Evil Ways

Dean takes the 25-hour drive home in one strive. Sam protests at first but he also knows that nothing can stop Dean when he is like this. And even Sam has to admit that he finds it hard to sleep at first, considering that they might have a real chance at getting Cas back. Sure, he is concerned about what they might be getting into. Chuck didn't hide the Amulets in the easiest of places to get to. But it's nothing they haven't done before. He just has to keep Dean on a tight leash, so they do things right this time.

-.-.-.-.-

Dean makes a fuss about sleeping when they finally reach Lebanon, but the moment his head touches the pillow, he's out. He sleeps for six hours. Six hours! During an important hunt. He's clearly gone soft.

He wakes up at midnight, so now his inner clock is going to be a complete mess.

Walking past Sam and Eileen's bedroom, he hears the familiar sound of Sam sawing logs. For a moment he considers walking in there, yelling something obscene, as he has done that so many times before, just to mess with his brother. But this is not a random motel out in nowhere. This is Sam's and his wife's private bedroom. Just considering walking in there feels like invading a level of privacy that neither of them have ever had before.

Instead, he goes down to the empty kitchen. This is the first time that he has been alone in the house. Well, technically, he isn't alone, but right here, right now, in this silent kitchen where he can't even hear any sounds from the quiet street outside, he feels alone. In the bunker, there would always be at least five different pipes humming or coughing or hissing. This house, however, works. Sure, the fridge hums if you really listen, and Miracle snores softly in her basket in the living room, but… It's quiet.

He considers not to do anything until Sam wakes up, but then again, he knows that both Sam and Eileen would tell him to get whatever he needs. So he makes a sandwich, once again praising himself lucky that his sister-in-law is a fellow meat lover.

He settles on the couch, and after another moment of complete silence, he turns on the TV. He would normally never watch the news, but he would like to try to catch up on the last four years.

Miracle joins him on the couch. Dean isn't sure if she's allowed to be on the furniture or not, but he's not going to tell on the good girl. He pets her head and tries to focus on the news station.

But the sound of the reporter's voice quickly fades into the background. Instead, he hears Chuck's voice in his head; 'One in Heaven, one in Hell, one in Purgatory and one in the Veil'.

-.-.-.-.-

Sam stayed up after demanding Dean to go to bed. His brother could be more stubborn than a mule. Luckily, Eileen had backed him up, and Dean had not yet been able to stand up to his beloved sister-in-law.

Sam took the chance to catch Eileen up on the result of their trip and to brainstorm their next move with her, including brainstorming on how to keep Dean from running straight into the first sign of danger he finds, blinded by the opportunity to get Cas back.

After a couple of hours, Eileen drags him to bed too. As he walks past Dean's bedroom, his hand resting on Eileen's lower back, he hears Dean's snoring. They have spent so many years together in too-small motel rooms, so even through the door, Sam can tell by the sound that Dean has dropped dead on his stomach, and despite all his bravado, he desperately needed some sleep.

Sam wakes up in the early morning hours. Normally when this happens, he will either just stay in bed and look at his beautiful wife, or if it is not too early, he will go for a run before making breakfast. Today, he can distantly hear the TV down in the living room, which must mean that Dean is already up.

He sneaks out of bed and down the stairs. He finds Dean on the couch with a plate on the outmost corner of the coffee table and the rest of the table filled with books. Miracle is sleeping next to him, leaning against Dean's thigh.

"What's this? The twilight zone?" Sam gestures at all the books.

"Hah hah, you're a real comedian," Dean deadpans. "Why do you have this many books anyway?"

"Why are you reading them?" Sam counters before sitting in the recliner on the opposite side of the coffee table. From this angle he can see that Dean has picked out all the religious texts from their small office.

"Trying to dig up some clues." Dean leans back on the couch, trying to look casual but Sam can see that the waiting and researching is bothering him.

Sam nods in understanding. "Yeah, I talked to Eileen about it last night. We think it would be best to go to Hell first."

Dean huffs: "Since when is going to Hell a good thing?"

Sam smiles. "Since we know the queen."

-.-.-.-.-

"Well, if this doesn't bring back memories." Dean runs the blade across his palm and lets his blood drip into the bowl. He grabs a dishtowel and wraps it around his hand. Last time they did this, he didn't need a towel, Cas had… Well, better not to think about it.

Sam prepares a match, striking it to catch fire. Before he continues, he checks the note that he has left for Eileen next to the bowl. 20 years ago, he would never have believed that one day he would leave his wife a note saying 'Went down to talk to Rowena', and actually refer to the Queen of Hell instead of some nosy downstairs neighbour. Well, technical Rowena is both nosy and way downstairs.

He holds the burning stick in one hand and touches the bowl with the other. Dean touches it as well. Sam lets the familiar Latin flow over his lips, and when he says the final word, he lets the match fall down on the contents of the bowl. Purple sparks immediately erupt, and the lights start to flash.

In a blinding light, they are one moment in the small, cosy kitchen and the next, they are in the cold, stone hallways of Hell.

Dean hasn't missed the intense stench of sulphur and burning flesh. 40 years of torture, from both sides of the rack, comes flying back, and he has to shake his head to dissipate the pictures that dance in front of his inner eye.

Only moments after they arrive, demons run into the hallway, surrounding them. Dean is about to pull out the demon-killing knife, but Sam puts a hand on his arm before he can reach for it.

The demons part to let a small man in an immaculate suit walk up to them. He looks at them before focusing on Sam. "Mr. Winchester."

"Hi Phil," Sam answers, surprisingly relaxed.

"Her majesty is in the tearoom." Without saying any further, Phil turns on the spot and starts walking down the hallway.

Sam follows, so Dean does the same. He walks close to Sam and hisses; "'Hi Phil'?"

"Yeah." Sam looks back at his brother. "I told you that I still visit Rowena."

"Yeah, but you didn't mention being first-name-friendly with the demons."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "Do we need to talk about your bromance with Crowley?"

"Shut up," Dean grumbles. "And Crowley was his last name."

"Right," Sam sighs. "Anyway, Phil is Rowena's personal assistant. And he's probably the only demon I'm 'friendly' with. The rest of them still want our heads on a silver platter, or any plate for that matter, but Rowena understands how to keep the balance."

They walk into a grand hall with black and dark-blue stone walls. In the middle stands a small, white table with white chairs around it. In one of the chairs sits Rowena in a long, purple dress.

Rowena looks up, and when she sees Sam, her face lights up. "Samuel! What a pleasant surprise!" Then her eyes fall on Dean, and the happiness is replaced by shock. "Dean? How-How are you here? What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Rowena," Dean answers smoothly. "And we were kinda hoping you could help us answer all those questions."

"Well, you boys are full of surprises." Rowena collects herself. "Come, sit down. Tell Auntie Rowena everything!"

-.-.-.-.-

After two cups of tea and some biscuits, that Dean first eyes warily, but which turn out to be delicious, they have finally told Rowena everything that they have found out over the last couple of days.

"Well, your appetite hasn't changed." Rowena sends Dean a chastising look, but there's mirth in her eyes.

Dean pops the last biscuit in his mouth and barely chews it before responding; "I've been dead for four years. I have a lot of catching up to do. Including food."

"Yes, it certainly is an interesting story." Rowena picks up her cup and takes a small sip.

"So, you don't know why or how I'm back either?" Dean asks, though he has already guessed the answer.

"No, surprisingly not. Which means… it must be someone or something awfully powerful to be able to keep it hidden from me."

"You don't think… Jack?" Sam asks.

"No, Samuel. I have talked to the dear boy a couple of times during the years, and he has been very clear that he would not interfere. We only meet for tea and these little nougat biscuits he loves so much and talk about the way of the world. In overall terms, you know. He's being very secretive and reticent about whatever he's doing upstairs. Every time I suggest spicing things up a little, you know, a little mayhem never killed anyone, Jack always says no. He's a good boy. And if he was going to bring Dean back to life, he might as well just have saved him when he died, no?"

Dean doesn't find much comfort in any of this, but maybe there's another thing that Rowena can answer for him. "So, I wasn't… I mean, I don't remember…"

"No, dearie," Rowena quickly answers, sending him a reassuring look. "You have not been spending your afterlife in my realm."

Dean appreciates how Rowena doesn't say 'Hell'. He nods his thanks to her. But then where has he been?

"How about the thing with the Amulets?" Sam asks.

"That is news to me too. It is always interesting with you lads around." Rowena leans forward. "And Chuck didn't mention where in all of Hell he might have hidden this piece of twig?"

"He just said in the darkest corner," Sam relays.

"But everything is pretty dark down here," Dean grumbles, looking around the dark walls.

Rowena purses her lips in thought. "Yes, but… some places are darker than others."

Sam leans forward with keen interest. "What are you thinking?"

"Are you familiar with Dante?" Rowena asks with a secretive smirk.

"The guy with the circles of Hell?" Dean makes a circular motion with a finger in the air.

"Yes, that guy," Rowena sneers with obvious distaste at Dean's way of saying things. "What the history books don't tell you is that Dante had some psychic abilities. His inspiration for The Nine Circles of Hell comes from these abilities and are somewhat accurate."

"Somewhat?" Sam asks.

Rowena smiles. "Hell might not be a circular tower block, but we do love to torment people for their sins. A part of Hell is especially dedicated to those who commits treachery."

Sam sits back in his seat again, as if hit by revelation. "The Ninth Circle of Hell, reserved for people who betrayed their loved ones or friends or country."

"Oh Samuel, you clearly inherited all the brains and etiquette in the Winchester family," Rowena coos happily.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. So where do we find this torture chamber for traitors?"

"Well, you've already been there. Think, boys. Who performed the ultimate act of treason?" Rowena looks back and forth between the brothers. "It is where Lucifer was imprisoned."

-.-.-.-.-

"Can't believe we have to go back there," Dean grumbles as they make the long walk down to Lucifer's cage. This place might be what Sam's nightmares are made of, but it is also the place that Dean lost Sam to for a whole year, longer even, because what came back was not Sam.

"I know," Sam agrees solemnly.

"Look at the bright side, boys. This time I'm not planning to betray you," Rowena quips.

"If you do, you won't be invited to Baby Dean's birthday," Sam smirks.

Rowena feigns taking offend. "You wouldn't dare. It couldn't possibly be a proper party without auntie Row."

Dean feels a stab of jealousy at Sam and Rowena's banter. Sounds like his nephew is more familiar with the witch who repeatedly tried to kill his dad than he is with his blood related uncle. Rowena has been there for birthdays, she has a nickname, maybe she pops by for Christmas and other holidays. Hell, she's just been there.

Rowena stops, and Dean almost tumbles into Sam's back because he's so caught up in his own thoughts. Rowena waves a hand, and fire breaks out in the torches sprinkled around the walls. It isn't until the warmth quickly spreads that Dean notices how cold it had gotten.

In front of them stands the empty cage. Dean suppresses a shiver at the memory of Lucifer possessing Cas. Dean had felt so stupid for not noticing. And he was so angry with Cas for doing it to him, to them.

Sam walks closer to the cage. Dean can tell by the way that Sam carries himself that he is a bit on edge, even though the cage is empty, and Lucifer is gone. And who can blame him when he had shared that small space with the devil himself. Sam starts walking around the cage, trying to look for something he did not see the other times he was here.

Dean walks around it in the opposite direction, studying every inch for a small piece of wood that could resemble an amulet of some kind. He is not sure what he is looking for, but something about this amulet has to stand out somehow. But it is all just cold metal.

They meet on the back of the cage, and Sam sighs; "Anything?"

It's a stupid question. Of course Dean would have said something if he had found something, but it's how they were trained. To report to each other. No matter how much distance Sam has tried to put between himself and their upbringing, there were habits that none of them would ever unlearn. "Nothing. Guess it's the same on your side."

"Yeah. Do you think it's inside the cage?" Sam frowns and swallows, peering through the bars.

Dean shrugs; "Maybe. I guess it's a pretty good place to keep it safe."

Sam's frown deepens. "No, it isn't."

"It's a cage that is almost impossible to get in to, it's pretty damn safe," Dean argues.

Sam turns to his brother, and he might as well have had a bright lightbulb over his head. "No, Dean, it isn't. Would you put a valuable artifact in the same room as Lucifer?"

"Hell no." Is his immediate reaction, and now Dean understands. "So why would God hide the Amulet with his son who betrayed him?"

"He wouldn't," Sam says decisively. He immediately moves back around the cage to where Rowena is patiently waiting for them. "It's not here. There has to be another part of this place where it could be."

"The only other place in this part of Hell is the torture chamber where we keep the traitors." Rowena gestures back to where they came from.

"That must be it, then," Sam says with a determined nod. "Can you take us there?"

Dean is immediately caught by a rush of panic. He grabs Sam's arm. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy cowboy."

"What?"

Dean wets his lips nervously, not sure how to express the urgent fear he's feeling. "Okay, listen. We've both been through a lot. I know your time in the cage wasn't summer camp, but… You've never been on the rack, man. You haven't seen, or felt, or…"

"Are you saying, you don't think I can handle it?" Sam asks, anger evident in his voice.

"No, that's not…" Dean takes a breath. "I'm saying I don't want you to handle it. I don't want you to go through that."

Sam looks away, shaking his head. He had almost forgotten how protective Dean could be, despite the numerous times Dean has sacrificed himself or pushed Sam away to keep him safe. It is aggravating, but surprisingly, Sam has missed it. It is, after all, the most constant indication of Dean's love for him that he has had in his life.

Sam looks back up with a small smile on his face. "No."

"No?" Dean looks surprised and a little unnerved by Sam's reaction, or lack thereof.

"No, you are not doing this alone," Sam states calmly. "And no, you are not going to remind me of my wife and kid at home, just to guilt me in to staying out of this. We are in this together, you and me. And we are staying that way."

Dean doesn't argue. His lips are tight and thin as he grinds his teeth while taking in what Sam said. Finally, he lifts his hands in surrender. "Fine. Whatever. Let's do it."

And that is probably the best reaction Sam could have hoped for. He then turns to Rowena. "You coming?"

"Oh no. You boys will be on your own. And if you really insist on going in there, you should probably know that no one has ever come out again. Not even the demons." Rowena's eyes are wide as she intensely tries to keep the Winchester's from going through with their plan.

"Not even the demons?" Dean frowns.

"Of course not, boy. Demons betray more than anyone else."

"Then who does the torturing?"

Rowena rolls her eyes. "How would I know? I've never been there!"

"We have to try," Sam insists. "Take us to the chamber."

Rowena hesitates for a moment before taking them back down the halls. They don't have to go far before she stops and silently gestures to the stoney wall. The entrance is just a hole in the wall, but it is so pitch black that they can't see what is beyond the threshold, as if a black curtain is separating them from what lays beyond. It is completely silent, no screaming or begging from beyond the threshold.

Sam and Dean stand shoulder by shoulder trying to get just the smallest glimpse of what they will face when they take two steps forward, but to no avail.

"This is it?" Sam asks, because it doesn't look like a grant portal to the ninth circle of Hell.

"This is it," Rowena confirms. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"We have to." Sam takes a breath and looks at Dean.

With a determined nod at each other, they step forward together.

-.-.-.-.-

The first thing Dean registers is cold. It is still completely dark, but icy cold. He turns around, expecting to see Sam next to him.

But he doesn't.

"Sam?" Dean whispers, afraid to alert anything that might be luring in the darkness. Still nothing. "Damnit... Sam!?"

"What?"

Dean is surprised by Sam's voice coming from behind him. He spins on the spot, and there he is. Except, it's not really Sam. It can't be. This is Sam, like, 20 years ago. Damn, he's young. So many battles and heartbreaks that hasn't tainted his face yet. For a moment, it is completely overwhelming. Dean can only think of a single word that escapes him on a barely audible breath. "Sammy?"

"Yeah, what do you want?" Sam is angry. His body is taut, and he is wearing a particular shade of bitch face that Dean hasn't seen for a very long time. One where Sam doesn't give a damn about Dean.

Dean takes a deep breath. "No. You're not real." Dean starts to turn away, but Sam's words stop him.

"Huh, whoa." Sam's face changes into an angry smile, a grimace that Dean absolutely hates. "Dad kicks me out and now I'm 'not real'?"

"Hey, that's not… Wait, did dad just kick you out?" Okay, that explains why Dean is getting a range of facial expressions that he would rather forget.

"Did you forget already? Dude, you were there!" Sam shouts.

"How could I forget!?" Dean barks back. "That was one of the worst days of my life!"

"Oh, yeah, let's make this all about you." Sam eyes are like lightning.

Dean feels like he's been slapped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's talk about how you let dad kick me out. Let's talk about how you didn't come with me. Let's talk about how you just left your 20-year-old brother all alone in the world, just because you were afraid of an angry, old man!"

"I'm not the one who left! I'm the one who was left behind!" Dean shouts back half-heatedly. Deep down, he knows it isn't true.

"I asked you to come with me! Dean, I begged you! And every day, I wished you would come for me. I prayed that you would choose me. But you didn't." Sam is tearing up now, probably a mix of anger and sadness coming through. "Until you did. But just to pull me back in. Because I was useful."

"Damnit, Sammy." Dean can feel his throat burning. It's true that Sam asked him to run away with him multiple times, but Dean didn't actually think that Sam wanted him to come with him when Sam finally took the leap. Sam had been so angry at everything, including Dean.

"You left me alone, Dean…"

It's true that he has always blamed Sam for leaving, but… Dean also blamed himself for not following. After everything that their dad put them through, Sam was the most constant thing in Dean's life. They always had each other's back. Until they suddenly didn't. Sam left, and Dean didn't follow, even though he knew he should. He knew that they would have been better off. And if he had followed Sam that night, maybe they would both have been out of the life for good. Sam would've been a major league lawyer married to his beloved Jessica, who wouldn't have had to suffer burning to death on a ceiling…

Dean just couldn't leave.

"I didn't know what to do, Sammy. In the real world, I mean. I couldn't become a lawyer or anything like that. I don't know how I could live, knowing what we know." Dean almost begs to make Sam understand.

"Right… So, I wasn't important enough to you to leave the life. Thanks, 'brother'."

-.-.-.-.-

Sam steps through the darkness and Dean immediately disappears from his side. "Dean?" Sam blindly feels the air where his brother just was, but all he feels is cold. "Dean!?"

"Oh, so now you're calling me?"

Sam turns around and there's his big brother, except… No, it's not him. His hair is shorter, and his face has fewer lines. He is wearing the don't-give-a-crap attitude he used to hide behind all the time. Dean still tries to hide behind it, but it has gotten more and more difficult the more they have become involved in apocalypse after apocalypse. "Who are you?"

Dean scoffs, shaking his head. "Damn. She really did a number on you, huh?"

"Who?" Sam frowns.

"Who? That demon bitch Ruby of course!" Dean barks.

"Ruby?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "What is wrong with you, man? Did she put some mojo on you or something. Would explain a lot!"

"What? What are you talking about?" Sam flares his arm in frustration. What the hell is going on?

Dean answers calmly but there's a deathly anger underneath. "Oh, I'm just talking about how you chose a demon over your own family."

Sam clenches his teeth. "We've already been through this. And you're not Dean!" He adds the last part, more for his own sake than fake Dean's.

"Right, keep telling yourself that. Maybe that'll make it easier to screw me over," Dean grumbles.

"I didn't screw you over!" Sam exclaims. "I did what I thought was right. I thought I was stopping the apocalypse!"

"Well, congratulations. You did the exact opposite."

"You were gone, Dean." Sam swallows at the memory of his brother being shredded to pieces by invisible hell hounds.

"So you go back to your apple pie life! Or go get your shit together at Bobby's! You don't shack up with a demon!" Dean yells.

Sam opens his mouth to answer, but he truly doesn't know what to say. They have had this fight before, both verbally and physically, but right now, it feels like they never worked it out. The way Dean looks at him with so much hurt, and disappointed, and worst of all, a little bit of disgust, makes Sam feel sick all over again. Despite being a grown man, he hates disappointing his brother. After Dean went to Hell for him, he teamed up with a demon. At that point, it had just felt like the only thing he could do to be strong enough to keep on going, alone.

"Dean, I… I didn't know-"

"I don't care! You should've known better!"

-.-.-.-.-

Dean runs his hands down his face. "Damnit, Sammy."

"And you wouldn't let me leave when it mattered."

Now the voice comes from behind him. Dean removes his hands, and the young Sam is no longer in front of him. Dean turns around, and there's Sam again, but this time older and paler. He looks like shit. All Dean's protectiveness towards his brother kicks in and he takes a step forward, ready to catch Sam if he falls over. "Sammy?"

"Once you got me back in the game, you really wouldn't let me leave. Not even when we could keep the whole damn world safe," Sam continues.

Oh, this is Trial-Sam. Dean should have known from how dead-on-his-feet Sam looks, and that's literal.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean asks despairingly. "What the hell is this?"

Sam crosses his arms. "Why don't you tell me? Why was it better to force an angel down my throat instead of keeping the entire world safe?"

"Sam, come on…"

"No, you come on!" Sam's pale face is stained red with anger. "Think about all the crap we have had to go through after the trials! Think about all the fights, and all the apocalypses, all the pain! Think about all the people that died!"

"Shut up!" Dean finally yells. Guilt is boiling up inside him. Guilt for tricking Sam into saying yes to Gadreel and guilt for all the people who have died because he was too weak to let Sam complete the trials. "Just shut up!"

"I wonder what's your problem, Dean." Sam ignores his desperate pleas. "Is it because you didn't get to sacrifice yourself? Do you have some kind of hero complex? Or maybe you're just so in love with the fight that you couldn't let it end!? Is that it? Maybe it wasn't so bad for you to get the Mark of Cain after all? It was a great excuse to keep killing."

"No, damnit. That's not it… That's not it at all." And that's the moment that Dean realises something. Words from a certain angel coming back to him. He takes a deep, defeated breath, trying to calm himself down. "You're right."

"Really? Oh, please tell, big brother." Sam rolls his eyes, heavy with sarcasm.

"I was angry that you took on the trials instead of me. And yeah, I would rather keep fighting than let you die. I would always choose you over the world. But it's not because of some hero complex, or because I like killing."

"Then what?" Sam flares his arms.

"Remember when I died? What you said?" Dean smiles wetly, not caring about the tears whelming up in his eyes. Right now, all he feels is love for his brother. "I don't want to do this alone."

-.-.-.-.-

"You know what. You're not real. I'm not going to listen to this." Sam turns around to leave, if that is even possible in this dark space, only to be met by Dean again. For a moment, Sam thinks he's found the real Dean, because the age and look is right. But he's pale. "Dean? Are you okay?"

Dean smiles sinisterly before spreading his arms. "Why don't you tell me?" Then he turns on the spot, and Sam instantly feels sick when he sees the red, glistening spot on Dean's back. "What do you think? Is blood my colour?"

"Dean-"

"You know, when we fight, we're supposed to have each other's backs. But even a rebar has my back better than you do." Dean laughs darkly.

"Dean, if I could have stopped it, I would. You know I would," Sam almost begs.

"Do I? Do I know that?" Dean walks closer, slowly, like he always does when he is confrontational. "When I went to Hell, you got all cosy with a demon. When I went to Purgatory you hooked up with dog-lady. Now you're living the American dream with Eileen. Maybe you're just better off without me."

Sam feels a pang at Dean's words. Because… they are somewhat true, and Sam has thought the exact same thing, many times. His life has always been less complicated without Dean. He could stand on his own two legs, make his own decisions. After a childhood and youth taking orders from his father, he hated to have anyone tell him what to do, even Dean.

But just because life was sometimes easier without Dean, it didn't mean that it was better.

"You're wrong."

"Oh, am I? Please do tell."

"You said it yourself. Almost 20 years ago." Sam smirks. A lot of their enemies have commented on their co-dependency over the years, thinking it was a desperation to not be alone. They were all wrong. They were not afraid to be alone. It just hurt too much when the other one was gone, like they lost a part of themselves. Because they are brothers, they protect each other, and they love each other. And without knowing it, they had put these feelings into seven small words; "I don't want to do this alone."

-.-.-.-.-

"I don't what to do this alone." The words echo in the emptiness, and suddenly Dean is standing in front of a new Sam. For a second, he thinks that it is yet another version of Sam that he has somehow betrayed, but suddenly the room lights up. That must mean…

"Sammy?"

"Dean?"

"Is it really you? Like, you-you?"

"Yeah, it's me."

Now that there is an unrecognisable light source, Dean can see his own breath. Looking at Sam, he can also see his breath and how Sam's lips have a bluish hue. None of the other Sam's had that. Thinking about it, 20-something-Sam only wore a T-shirt and flannel. No way that would be comfortable in this cold.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks carefully, something like shame in his eyes.

Dean figures that Sam has been through something similar to himself. They've been through these fights before, or some version of them, sometimes multiple versions. And they sting every single time. But they've made it through somehow and they will keep making through. "Yeah, I'm good. We're good."

Sam nods, clearly understanding what Dean is referring to even in so few words. "Good."

Dean throws his arms around himself and rubs his biceps, trying to generate a little bit of heat. "So now what?"

"I don't know. I guess it was some kind of test. Did we pass?" Sam starts looking around, and quickly his eyes fall on the light source. "Dean."

Dean turns in the direction Sam is looking and there is it. Hovering in nothing, a small arrow shaped piece of wood is glowing whitish blue. It has to be the Amulet.

Dean carefully walks closer. "Do we just take it or are they going to send a giant boulder rolling after us if we do?"

"This isn't Raiders, Dean," Sam admonishes but without any heat.

"Might as well be," Dean huffs. "Well, here goes nothing."

As soon as Dean touches the cold wood, the white light explodes, and he has to cover his eyes. He vaguely hears the surprised exclamation from Sam before the ground disappears under his feet.

-.-.-.-.-

Sam and Dean stumble out the hole in the wall, landing on the cold, hard floor in front of Rowena's feet. She jumps back with a small, surprised sound. "Boys!"

The guys grunt and slowly get to their feet. Sam moves a hand to the back of his head, feeling a small bump from where he landed, but luckily no blood. "What happened?"

"You tell me!" Rowena shrieks. "You just walked in there a second ago and now you're sprawling all over my feet!"

Sam turns to Dean, eyes wide with excitement. "Did you get it?"

Dean holds out his hand, showing the small Amulet. The glow has faded, but the wood still seems luminescent. Sam and Rowena gather around him to have a look at their price. Dean turns the piece in his hand, and on the other side there is a small, glowing symbol, looking like broccoli, or maybe… an angel.

Sam carefully takes it from Dean's palm, surprised by how light it is. "It just feels like wood."

"Oh, but it isn't." Rowena's eyes are wide as she studies the Amulet from a distance. "It oozes power."

"Well, that's one down, three to go," Dean states matter-of-factly.

"One more thing before you run off," Rowena says, finally looking away from the Amulet and gesturing at the black portal. "What happened in there?"

Sam and Dean exchange looks. Sam recognises that Dean is definitely not going to talk about it, but in the years since Dean's death, Rowena has become a confidant to Sam, so he wants to fill her in, at least in overall terms. "We were shown parts from our life where we felt like we betrayed someone."

"Someone? Each other?" Rowena quickly surmises.

"Yeah…" Sam admits.

"How did you get out?" Rowena is smart and kind enough to not ask any details.

"I honestly don't know," Sam says. "I was just talking to this thing looking like Dean, and suddenly I realised that…"

When Sam doesn't continue, Dean unexpectedly picks up, his voice low but incredibly fond. "That other things are more important."

Sam sends his brother a soft look that Dean can't hold.

"Makes sense…" Rowena seems unfazed.

"It does?" Dean asks.

"Well, think about it." She looks at Dean as if he were a caveman. "You two are fiercely loyal to each other, despite everything you have been through. And if anything is going to trump betrayal, it must be loyalty. That would also explain why the demons never came out. Not exactly the most loyal beings."

Sam perks up. "And Lucifer weren't loyal, so he would never have gotten hold of the Amulet."

"You can say a lot of bad things about Chuck, and being a cunning, little bastard is one of them," Dean growls, "But there's lots of loyal people out there. So why has no one else ever come out?"

Rowena muses for a moment. "Maybe because there were two of you? You have both betrayed each other, but you are also fiercely loyal to one another. And that takes two. People don't usually go to Hell with a buddy in tow."

"Who knows?" Dean shrugs. "Except, we do know one thing." Dean turns to Sam. "Chuck lied. The Amulets are not just laying around in four dark, dusty corners. That son of a bitch…"

"Figures," Sam sighs. They should have pushed Chuck harder for the details. But they can't do anything about it now. He's probably gone underground by now. "Anyway, we got what we came for." Sam turns the amulet between two fingers. "Let's get back home."

"Well, that is just typical of you boys. Just taking what you want and leaving poor, little me behind," Rowena sighs, but there's no heat behind the words and her eyes smile at Sam as she pulls him into a hug. "You boys be careful. And don't forget to visit soon."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A/N: Want to see an illustration of the Amulet in this chapter (And future chapters)? Find the story at AO3