Thank you so much Jenjoremy for the wonderful beta job, and Gredelina1 and SandraEngstrom2 for all the help.

The response to the story so far has been fantastic. I am seeing so many brand new names and old friends reading. Thank you all so much for the support.

Chapter Six

Dorothy stood in the middle of the library, her bag over her shoulder and her expression solemn. "I am sorry, Charlie, but I must do this," she said.

Charlie frowned. "But Sam…"

"Is your friend, and I understand why you have to go with Dean, but I need to return to Oz to save my own friends." She lowered her eyes, as if unwilling to see Charlie's reaction. "You could come with me."

Charlie bit her lip. In any other instance, the offer would have been too much to refuse, but things weren't right. She couldn't leave Dean to search for Sam alone, no matter how much the offer of an actual quest, with heroes and villains and magic, tempted her. Dorothy had her friends to save and Charlie had her family.

"I can't," she said regretfully. "Any other time, I'd go with you in a heartbeat, but I have to save Sam."

"And if he is—" Dorothy started to speak but Charlie cut her off. "Then Dean will need me more than ever. And I'll need him, too."

Dorothy nodded, as if she had expected the answer. "You're a good person, Charlie, a hero."

"Not like you, Sam and Dean," Charlie said quickly.

"There are all kinds of heroes." Dorothy picked up the strange key from the table and made for the stairs.

"Wait!" Charlie said.

Dorothy hesitated and turned, her expression hopeful. Charlie crossed the distance between them and pulled her into a hug. Dorothy returned it hesitantly. When they broke apart, Dorothy was smiling.

"If, no, when you make it back, look me up, okay?" Charlie asked.

Dorothy tugged a lock of Charlie's hair. "Sure thing, Red. And if you change your mind one day, you know where I'll be."

There were footsteps and Dean came into the room, the Impala keys swinging from a finger. "You ready, Charlie?"

"Dorothy's leaving," Charlie said.

Dean looked puzzled for a moment, and then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "You're going to need some cash to get by. Things cost a lot more than when you were around last."

"She's going back to Oz," Charlie amended.

"Oh." He stuffed his wallet back in his pocket and said, "Well, good luck with that."

"And to you," she replied. "I hope you find what you are seeking and that it ends well for you."

Dean nodded stiffly. "It will." The tightness in his eyes contradicted his certainty of the statement.

Dorothy walked up the stairs and Charlie followed. Just because she wasn't going with Dorothy didn't mean she would pass up the chance to catch a glimpse of Oz.

Dorothy inserted the key in the lock and turned it slowly. The most amazing sight met Charlie's eyes: the actual yellow brick road, lush green hills, and in the far distance, The Emerald City. For a fleeting second, she wanted to step through the door and onto the yellow road. But she heard Dean move behind her, almost as if he knew what she was thinking, and she banished the urge. She had responsibilities here, family that needed her, and she would never rest there knowing that Sam might be lost here.

Dorothy stepped through and the door and turned back, a question in her eyes. Charlie shook her head and allowed the door to slowly swing closed, hiding the amazing sight. She had wanted a quest, and she couldn't think of a better one than to save Sam.

They made the four hour drive to Lawrence in under three. Dean seemed to become more tense the closer they got. Charlie thought it was a combination of the stress of their situation and the proximity to the place where everything had gone wrong for him when he was just a child. It might also have something to do with the angel in the seat beside him wearing his brother's face.

It was strange for Charlie to look at Sam and it not be him looking back, and she knew that it had to be even harder for Dean. For a moment she wondered what they would do if they couldn't get Sam back. Would Dean leave Ezekiel in Sam's body or would he make him leave so they could lay Sam to rest? She quickly shoved away the thought and sent up a plea to the universe that it would disregard the possibility she had put out there.

By the time they drove through the city limits, Dean's fingers were so tight around the steering wheel that they were white. Charlie wished she knew what to say to him to offer support or comfort, but there was nothing she could think of. She couldn't even find a way to comfort herself.

Dean pulled up in front of the small two story house and cut the engine. He didn't move to get out of the car, though; he just sat staring straight out ahead of him.

"Dean," Charlie said tentatively. "Do you want me and Ezekiel to go in?"

He shook his head. "No. It's okay." He lowered his voice and muttered something, and Charlie thought he was reminding himself of why they were there and what was at stake.

He opened his door and unfolded himself from the seat. Charlie copied him and met him at the sidewalk. She looked back and saw Ezekiel had hesitated a few yards back. She frowned at him and he looked weary as he came to them. Charlie was pretty sure angels didn't get tired, so she figured it was the situation he was done with more than the journey.

The door opened then and Missouri Mosely was revealed on the threshold, her arms folded across her chest.

Dean drew a shaky breath and started up the path to her. Her scowl quickly morphed into a look of sympathy as she got a good look at him. Charlie knew what she was seeing—a man on the precipice of despair and defeat. It was the same thing she saw when she was looking at him.

"Oh, child," she said. "Look at you." Dean raised his head slowly and she stepped forward and held his shoulders. "We're going to fix this, honey. You with me?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

Missouri's eyes moved to Charlie and she smiled. "Good to see you again, Ms. Bradbury."

Charlie smiled slightly. "Hey."

"Come on in," Missouri said, stepping back to allow them access.

Dean walked inside and Charlie trailed him.

"You, too, Mister," Missouri said firmly, and Charlie looked back to see Ezekiel hesitating midway along the path.

He walked up to the door and past Missouri into the house. Dean went straight through to the living room and dropped onto one of the heavy fabric couches. Charlie sat beside him and shifted closer so they were shoulder to shoulder. Ezekiel stood by the window and looked around the room speculatively.

"Sit!" Missouri commanded him.

With a pinched and annoyed look, he sat down on the lone armchair. Missouri perched on the couch opposite Dean and Charlie and leaned forward. "Okay, I have some idea of why you're here and what you need, but first there's something we need to talk about."

Dean nodded. "Okay."

Missouri took a breath and said, "Ten years, Dean Winchester! Ten years, and you didn't think to come to me once? You don't think I could have helped with any of the problems you had going on? I could have told you that Ruby was no good; I could have told you what that damn fool Castiel was doing with the souls; I could have seen what Sam was doing with the blood!"

"Blood?" Charlie asked.

"Later," Dean said quietly then spoke up for Missouri to hear. "We would have come, Missouri. We would have been with you in a heartbeat if we weren't scared we'd get you killed like we did Pamela."

"Poor Pamela," Missouri murmurred. "May she rest in peace."

"She does," Dean supplied. "We saw her."

"I see that," Missouri said, and Charlie realized she was reading his thoughts. Was she reading Charlie's, too? It wasn't like she was hiding anything, but still…

Missouri clucked her tongue and Charlie quickly redirected her thoughts to why they were there.

"I appreciate you wanting to protect me, Dean," Missouri said. "But I could have helped you. Besides, I'm an old woman. I've had my life. I would have helped you anyway."

Dean smiled sadly. "We know. That's why we didn't come."

Missouri's mouth pressed into a thin line and she said, "Well, that's all in the past now. I can see you've got a lot going on in the present to deal with." She turned her eyes on Ezekiel and frowned. "What's your part in all this?"

"I am an angel," Ezekiel said.

"I can see that much. What I want to know is why you answered Dean's prayer. What was in it for you?"

"The chance to help someone," Ezekiel said.

Missouri pursed her lips. "From what I hear, angels aren't known for their philanthropy." She nodded at Dean. "That Castiel does his best, but even he started out wanting. So, what did you want?"

Charlie looked curiously at Ezekiel. She was wondering the same thing now. What could have made him essentially give up his freedom to help the Winchesters? It couldn't have been much of a life, hiding down deep in Sam's body, healing without being detected.

"I did, do, want to help," Ezekiel said. "There are many kinds of angel, each with their own strengths, weaknesses and roles. While I was a soldier, as all angels are, I was primarily a guardian, as that suited my strengths. I was created to help, I was supposed to help, so when I heard Dean's desperate prayer, I went to offer him aid because I was created to."

Missouri nodded slowly. "Okay. Good. Just as long as we're all working to the same goal." She drew a deep breath. "Okay, Dean, tell me exactly what you need."

"We think Sam's dead," Dean said in a hoarse voice. "At least, we're hoping he is. I wanted to know if you can get through to him somehow. Make sure he's okay. Tell him we're coming to get him."

"And how are you planning to get him?" Missouri asked.

Dean shrugged. "However I can."

"Another deal?" she asked, her mouth turned down at the corners. "You can't do that, Dean, not to him or yourself."

Dean looked up, locking eyes with her. "I won't do anything that Sam wouldn't do for me if our positions were reversed."

Like that was comforting, Charlie thought. If he made that deal with Crowley…

She caught Missouri's eyes and redirected her thoughts in a hurry again.

"No!" Missouri said harshly. "Dean Winchester, don't you dare!"

Dean frowned. "Dare what?"

"Dare make a deal with that abomination Crowley. There are other ways. I can help you, but you have to promise me you won't make that deal."

"Other ways?" Dean asked.

"I help a lot of people," Missouri said. "Some owe me favors. Powerful beings in our world. Promise me and I will help you."

Dean nodded. "I promise."

Missouri eyed him speculatively for a moment and then said, "Okay, let's get to it."

She stood and went to a cupboard. From out of it, she pulled a battered cardboard box. She set it on the large table on the other side of the room and lifted the lid. Charlie stood to get a better look. It was a Ouija board, though obviously much older than the one Dean had used.

"My family has been using this talking board over 150 years," she said. "We've all had a touch of the shine, even those of us that don't use it. I don't use the board so much now, as I can speak just as plain without it, but some people like the prop. We're not using it a prop this time. We're using it because I need a siphon." Her face became grave. "There are, as I am sure you know now, so many souls in the veil, and some of them are screaming out. If I was to open myself to their communication alone, I would be drowned by them all, unable to make sense of it."

Dean came to the table and sat down. Charlie took the seat beside him and they watched Missouri as she set up the board with the old planchette, polished by so many years of fingers pressed against the wood. Ezekiel stood over them, expression neutral. It was so strange to see that on Sam's usually expressive face.

Missouri sat down and brushed her hands over her hair and then clasped them in front of her for a moment before she rested them on the planchette.

"Do we need to…?" Dean started, awkwardly gesturing to the board.

"No, honey. You both just need to stay quiet and try to keep calm no matter what you hear. It's going to be hard enough to do this without having your panicked thoughts battering me."

Dean nodded and Charlie made a concerted effort to calm her mind. It was hard, though, because so much rode on this.

Missouri closed her eyes for a moment and then spoke into the silence, her fingers pressed down on the planchette. "Sam Winchester. I am looking for Sam Winchester." She grimaced a moment and then shook her head. "No, Winchester. Sam Winchester. Has anyone seen him? Does anyone know him?"

Charlie tried to keep her thoughts focused on the room around her and not her hope that Sam would answer at any moment.

"Irv?" Missouri asked, and Dean stiffened. "Slow down. I can just about hear you. That's better. Have you seen him?" Her brow creased. "Oh. I see. Okay. Anyone else?" She shook her head. "That's okay."

Charlie looked away from Missouri and focused on the heavy drapes at the windows. They were floral and dark, and not nearly interesting enough to keep her mind on instead of what she was hearing from Missouri, though she was trying her hardest.

"We will," she heard Missouri say in a strained tone. "I'll make sure. Thank you."

There was the sound of wood scraping and then a heavy sigh. Charlie looked back at Missouri in time to see her pushing away the planchette and covering her face with her hands.

"Missouri?" Dean said. "Are you okay?"

She slowly lowered her hands and nodded. "Yes. I'll be fine. It's just so much."

Dean bit his lip and Charlie guessed he was fighting the urge to ask his questions. She had to admire his restraint, as it was killing her not to demand answers about Sam, even when she could see Missouri was struggling. It had to be a hundred times worse for Dean.

Missouri took a few deep breaths and seemed to calm slightly.

"Sam?" Charlie prompted, and then held her breath as she waited for an answer.

Missouri looked at Dean as she answered. "He's not there."

Dean groaned and bowed over the table, his hands covering his head.

"I found someone called Irv Franklin," Missouri said. "He told me he knew you both, that you were once friends, and he has been searching since you tried the board last time. There's no sign of him."

"But that's just one man," Charlie said. "He couldn't have searched everyone in half a day."

"It was more than half a day for him," Missouri said. "The veil is another plane, the same way Heaven and Hell are. Time moves differently there." She considered for a moment, as if deciding how much to say. "It's more than that though. It's Sam himself. He didn't hear me. I was searching specifically for him and found Irv because they are connected. I didn't find Sam. I would have found him if he was there."

Dean groaned quietly and Charlie laid a hand on his back. She felt tears welling in her eyes and when she blinked, they burned a path down her cheeks.

This was it then. Charlie was never going to see him again, never speak to him, never laugh, sigh, cry, with him. He was more than dead. He had stopped existing altogether. Sam was gone.

Missouri sucked in a breath. "Gone?"

Charlie nodded and raised her haunted eyes to Missouri's confused ones. "Yeah. Apparently, Sam's soul has been damaged beyond repair. We figured there were two options: he was dead or his soul had been ruined for the final time."

Inexplicably, Missouri smiled then. "You were wrong."

Dean's head jerked up so fast Charlie thought it had to hurt. "What?"

"It's just not possible," she said.

"How do you know?" Charlie asked, as Dean peered suspiciously at Ezekiel who looked confused.

"Because I know souls. I've spent most of my life enveloped in them. I know what's there and what isn't. Also, because I know Sam, I believe in him." She leaned back in her chair and tapped her fingers on the tabletop. "It's like the sun. You can feel it, you can see it, but only sometimes. Sometimes all sign of it—at night—is gone, but you still know it's there somewhere."

"That's because it's somewhere else," Charlie said. "That's science."

"You call it science, I call it faith. I know Sam's somewhere, because I know."

"You can see him?" Dean asked hopefully.

"No, but I know he's out there somewhere."

"Is this possible?" Dean asked Ezekiel. "I mean, you can't feel him…"

"I cannot," Ezekiel said. "I don't know if it's possible. I have never been immersed in the world of human souls. I just know they are usually found on Earth or in Heaven or Hell."

"So he's not in his body," Missouri said. "I can't tell you anything about that. I can tell you he's not gone though."

"How do you know, though?" Dean asked again.

Missouri was silent so long Charlie was almost sure she wasn't going to explain then she said, "I know because you're here and sane, Dean."

Dean laughed harshly. "You call this sane? Damn, I'm not even sure I'm here."

Missouri patted his hand. "I know you and Sam spent some time in Heaven together."

Dean nodded. "After Walt and Roy took us out. It didn't make the greatest hits reel."

"Yeah, Dark Side of the Moon," Charlie supplied and then fell silent under Dean's withering gaze.

"And you and Sam shared a heaven of collective memories?"

"Yes," he said slowly.

"And did anyone explain how rare that was?"

Charlie gasped. Ash had told them special cases, soul mates, shared heavens. Sam and Dean shared a heaven. It all clicked into place. Sam couldn't be gone because Dean was still there.

Missouri nodded at her, satisfied. "Even if Sam was so damaged he couldn't live, his soul would survive through Dean. He would take the strain onto himself, too, helping Sam."

It all made sense to Charlie. In that time Dean had told her about—when Sam had been going mad with insomnia—he had probably kept Sam going long past his time by merely existing strong as he was.

"Me and Sam are a special case?" Dean said tentatively.

"Yes," Missouri said emphatically. "Sam's soul cannot fail completely, because yours is still whole and strong. You're saving him just by being."

Dean's eyes widened. "Okay. Wow. So, what do I do next? If Sam is still out there somewhere, I have to find him, but how do I do that?"

Missouri's look of triumph faded to be replaced by sadness. "I don't know, but I will. Trust me, Dean, we'll find a way to get him back." She hesitated. "Trust in yourself and Sam. Trust the bond."

Dean nodded slowly. "Okay. If it means I'm getting him back, I'll trust anything."

"Good," Missouri said, satisfied. "Now, I'm guessing none of you have eaten anything for a while."

Charlie shook her head. "I don't think Dean's even drunk anything but coffee since the dream root."

"Dream root?" Missouri asked, and then winced. Charlie assumed she was seeing what Dean saw when he'd gone tripping through Sam's dreams, or whatever it was that Ezekiel had provided for him. The only thing Charlie knew about it was that, whatever it was, it had Dean crying out in his sleep like he was being tortured. "We'll come to that another time," she continued, casting Ezekiel a sharp look. Ezekiel looked blandly back at her.

Missouri stood and bustled out of the room into the kitchen. "Charlie, you mind lending me a hand?" she called back.

Charlie followed her through the hall and into a neat kitchen. Missouri was setting a tea kettle to heat on the stove and began to root through the fridge. She pulled out a loaf of bread and packages of ham and cheese. "You make the sandwiches and I'll fix the tea," she said.

Charlie fought back a grimace. She wanted coffee, caffeine to jolt her system. She'd slept the night before, but Dean hadn't, and since then he'd been through the emotional wringer. He would need all the help he could get.

"Don't you worry about that," Missouri said. "I've got Dean taken care of."

Charlie shrugged and set to work making a platter of sandwiches for them all to eat. While she worked, Missouri hummed, seemingly perfectly at peace. Charlie wondered how she could be happy given what was happening to them.

"I take what I can and make of it what I will," Missouri said cryptically. "Just like you do."

Yep, mindreading was a pain in the ass, she thought, and then quickly muttered, "Sorry," in case Missouri had caught that thought, too. "How do you do it?" she asked as Missouri poured water over mugs of what looked like grass clippings. "Hear all this and pretend you can't?"

Missouri hesitated a moment before answering. "Most of the time I block it out unless it's needed. It's just that, right now, I am trying to be as open as I can be in case I can sense something of Sam, or if Dean hears something. He might not recognize it."

"Hears something?"

Missouri stirred the tea slowly, looking thoughtful. "You've spent quite some time with Sam and Dean now, haven't you?"

"Some," Charlie said.

"Then you've seen how they talk to each other."

"Yeah…" Sometimes harshly, other times gentle, depending on the need. Usually suited to what the other needed.

"And you've seen how they don't talk?"

Charlie grinned. "Yeah. They're the kings of avoiding the issue—Dean more than Sam."

"Yes, but I meant their nonverbal communication more than that. When they are hunting, they instinctually know what the other is doing and thinking a lot of the time. When they're dealing with something they can't handle emotionally, they still know how the other is thinking and feeling enough to support each other. That's their bond."

Charlie frowned at her. "Do you mean they can read each other's minds?"

"No, that would be too obvious for even Winchesters to miss. It's more like they're sensing each other outside of what we might call 'normal' abilities. They just know each other."

Charlie remembered how Dean had refused to believe Sam was gone when Ezekiel first said he was, and then when Dorothy ventured the idea that Sam had died. It was more than denial. It was like he knew in his heart that Sam was still there.

Missouri set the mugs down on a tray and carried them through to the living room without another word, though she had surely heard Charlie's musings. Charlie finished making the sandwiches and carried the platter through to the living room. Dean had moved from the table to the couch again, and he and Missouri seemed locked into an argument.

"Really, Missouri, I'm not drinking this. It looks like the leavings from a lawnmower."

"I know you won't refuse me my hospitality after everything I have done for you," Missouri said firmly.

Dean sighed, and for a moment Charlie thought he was going to continue to refuse, and then he took a breath and took a large gulp of the drink. He grimaced and said, "That was…"

"Good, right?" Missouri said.

"I think it must be an acquired taste," Dean said, picking flecks of herb from his tongue.

Charlie wondered how much of the stuff she was going to have to force down so as not to offend Missouri. She held out the plate of sandwiches to Dean, and smiled, encouraged, when he took one. She took her own and sat down beside him. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until she started eating. She figured Dean would be, too, so she handed him another sandwich, but he didn't take it.

"Dean," she said gently. "You need to eat…" She trailed off as she caught sight of him blinking drowsily. "Dean?"

"What did you do?" Dean slurred. "What did you give me?"

"What you needed," Missouri said, unabashed. "A little Agrimony, some and yerba santa, and a peppermint and Rose combination for flavor."

Dean's hand dropped back to his lap and his head tilted down as his eyes closed.

"Oh, and a healthy dose of Ambien," Missouri added.

Dean began to snore quietly.

"He's not going to be happy when he wakes up," Charlie said.

Missouri looked unconcerned. "As long as he wakes up ready to fight, I don't think it matters. He's going to need all the strength for this he can get."

So… Soul mates, huh? I've never done this in a story before with Sam and Dean, and it's been fun to explore. Hope it makes for interesting reading.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx