AN: Set just after 10x03, but like…right after. Dean's just gotten back from being a Demon and things between him and his brother are…well, tense. It doesn't help that Sam gets kidnapped by fairies.
"Sam Winchester, welcome."
Sam's eyes snap open at the sound of a cheerful voice that's way too close to his left ear. He instantly tries to move, the feeling of being strapped down an unwelcome, but very familiar feeling. It takes him all of two seconds to realize he's bound at his ankles, his chest, forehead and both wrists by thick, dark brown straps of leather. Memories of the Cage flash through his head and he instantly panics, struggling harder against the binds strapping him down. Within a minute, he knows it's no use so he should probably save his energy to fight whoever did this to him. He stops moving, but the panic is still there, racing through him. He takes a deep breath. Then, another one. He's had enough panic attacks to know that he has to focus on something else, anything other than his inability to move. He blinks, trying to get his slightly blurry eyes to focus as his eyes drift straight up above him. He makes out a ceiling that's made entirely of glass. The sunlight beams down from above and needless to say, the experience is less than pleasant.
His sensitive eyes instantly react to the harsh light and he winces, trying to turn his head away from the offending light and realizing, once again, that he can't. Sweat falls down his face and he settles for squeezing his eyes shut to hopefully stop the world that had once been blissfully still from spinning around him. After a little while, he's not sure how much time passes, he hesitantly opens his eyes and is relieved to find the brightness isn't nearly as painful and everything around him is no longer fluttering, but now perfectly still. He glances around the large room before his eyes lock on a girl, with long, flowing, ringlet curled brown hair and bright blue eyes. Not angel bright blue, but definitely a color that screams non-human. That, paired with her pointy ears make Sam realize he's in some deep shit. He looks her over. She's dressed in a gown that extenuates her…um, better features and in any other circumstance, Sam would he blushing and awkwardly trying to start a conversation by now.
She never takes her eyes off of him. Even when someone walks up to her, muttering in her ear and glancing at him, seemingly worried. The woman merely holds up a hand and shakes her head briefly before she moves closer to him. Floating, actually, he realizes, as her feet never touch the floor. Her movement causes him to realize that they aren't the only ones in the massive room. It's more of an arena, he realizes. For the first time, he can actually see beyond her. He sees rows and rows filled with…fairies. All of them. Some have bright colorful hair paired with what are considered regular features and others have ears that remind Sam of an elf paired with normal, human features.
"Hello Sam, are you feeling any better?" Her voice is angelic, soothing and he finds himself relaxing even though he knows he shouldn't. He doesn't say anything, clenching his jaw. She seems to read his mind because she continues, "We're not here to harm you, boy. We just want to help." He relaxes even further back against the table, despite very instinct telling him not to. He knows what she is. What she's doing to him.
Fairies, surprisingly, aren't as rare as most hunters tend to think. There are different types of Fairies. Ones that intend to hurt humans, their culture molding them into believing that humans must be stopped. Others are the exact opposite, wanting to help humans in every way possible as they believe they are the guardians of the human race. There are countless other kinds of fairies and he just hopes he's not dealing with the psychotic ones, the ones that live off human flesh to maintain their youth. Glancing again at the fairy that came up to him, he realizes she looks about his age, if not younger.
"Do you know what I am, Sam?" She asks, hovering at his side with her arms down at her side, her hands clasped in front of her.
"You're a fairy." Sam finally supplies, voice rough and he briefly wonders how long he's been here, wherever here actually is. "Just don't know which type you are."
"You're smarter than most humans, I'll give you that," She gives him a blindingly white smile and he fights to remind himself that just because she's pretty does not mean she's safe. Case in point, the fact that he's strapped to a table. "Again, we're not here to harm you. We just want to help you. You've lost your way, Sam Winchester, and I intend to help you get back to where you belong."
As he lays there, he waits for whatever's going to happen to happen and as he does, he finally notices what should've been his first clue – their wings. The fairy closest to him has golden wings, patterned with light blue and light green, matching her eyes exactly. His mind races as he remembers reading about these types of fairies. He can't believe he hadn't noticed it before – the color and shape of their wings are what make them stand out. Magotine fairies tend to stay close to home, with their own coven. Their soul purpose is to help those who can't help themselves. They typically keep out of mortal business, unless someone cries out for help.
Calls for help usually aren't actual calls. They're more of a… distress signal going off when someone is deeply hurt or affected by something. When this happens, the fairy world goes into disarray and causes all types of mayhem. Magotine fairies are happy creatures until this happens and they become saddened by the burdens of others. They typically use a spell of some sort to help the human in need, but in some rare cases, they travel to the human world and find the lost soul. They help them, supposedly, and once they do, they go back to their world and wait for the next human they can help.
The fairy finally reaches Sam and places a light hand on his left shoulder. A calm washes over him and the panic he felt before is suddenly gone. He should probably be worried about that, but her effect on him is too overpowering. Her voice suddenly booms, causing him to jump a little, "Bring in the brother."
Sam's eyes follow where she's looking and finds more rows of fairies. He's on a large platform, hovering in the air. He doesn't have time to think of the logistics of that before, at the end of a very long aisle, large wooden doors open wide and then there's Dean, accompanied by two…giants. The floor shakes with their movement and Sam's eyes widen as they shuffle his brother inside, throwing him none to gently in the middle of the aisle. Sam yells to try to warn his brother, or tries to, but realizes he can't talk. He glares at the woman beside him and she must realize he's panicking again because her once featherlike touch on his shoulder has tightened. Not to the point of pain, but enough for her to cause him to relax once again. The giants bow, muttering a phrase in a language Sam realizes isn't meant for human ears, before leaving, the wooden doors slamming closed behind them.
"Stand up, Dean Winchester." The woman from beside Sam says, coolly. Not unkindly, but with an air of authority. Her hand isn't as firm as it was a minute ago and now rests softly on his shoulder.
Even from where Sam is, which is several feet away, he can hear Dean huff and puff as he moves, the chains at his wrists and ankles clamoring loudly as the fairies on either side of the aisle and those in the seats in the raptors start muttering. He eventually manages to get to his feet and he shuffles closer. It takes a few minutes until he's merely a few feet away from the guard that is directly in front of the platform that Sam's on. He never takes his eyes off the girl by Sam's side, even when he comes to a stop, eyes narrowing, "Sam, you good?"
Sam opens his mouth, mouth moving, but no sound comes out other than wheezing. His wide, panicked eyes meet his brothers as he mouths Are you ok and Dean's hands clench and his chains rattle, because it's so typical of Sam to get kidnapped by freakin' fairies and the first thing he asks is about Dean's welfare. Even if they're technically nothing, but partners now, not brothers. Dean swallows at that thought, because yeah, that will never not sting. He starts to move forward, wanting to see for himself if they hurt Sam, but the guards send him looks that make him quickly decide to stay put. He settles with a sharp look, I'm good. You?
It's almost ridiculous how just that one simple look settles Sam down more than the fairy's hold on his shoulder.
"Unfortunately, he can not talk right now, but believe me, he will soon be able to. Do you know what brought you both to my court today?" She removes her hand from Sam's shoulder and he shudders violently, something washing over him that is too intense to even try to come to terms with.
Dean's worried eyes fall on him, but, despite them not being in as sync as of lately or whatever you want to call it, Sam sends him a everything's fine, nothing to see here look, which Dean immediately shoots back a disbelieving yeah, right look.
"I'm guessing for a tea party?" Dean asks, smugly, glancing around at the arena, "I mean, what else would you use this arena for, princess, other than sit around and eat tea and crumpets. I mean, I assume you Tinkerbells-"
"How dare you speak to the queen like that!"
Dean's head snaps to the left as his right cheek stings from the impact of a…Sam's eyes narrow to try to see what it is that his brother was just hit with.
"Did you just…slap me with a friggin' branch?" Dean exclaims, as if insulted that she used a branch to inflict the damage and not because she hit him in the first place. He glares at the fairy that had moved from her place in front of the Queen as guard to stand up for her queen. Sam huffs a laugh, thankful that it's airless so he doesn't get a glare from his brother.
"Anna, please. It's ok." The girl, the Queen, says calmly, "please."
Anna, a tiny blonde haired fairy that barely comes up to Dean's shoulder, merely sighs and clenches the branch in her hand as she starts to move back. Before she does, she fakes like she's going to wack Dean again. Dean flinches a little, not much, but it's enough to put a smirk on the fairy's face. She quickly falls back in line directly in front of the Queen, holding the branch at her side like a weapon.
"No, alright, I don't know why we're here. What do you want from us?" Dean demands, impatiently. Already, he can feel the mark calling for blood. Calling for him to break out of the flimsy chains and slaughter the fairies.
The smile the queen shoots him is kind, which is all kinds of creepy considering he'd just mentally been planning her entire kind's demise. "We summoned you here. We want to help. You and your brother have been through quite a lot, yes?"
Dean glances at his brother, but Sam won't meet his eyes. He clenches his jaw, remembering what he'd done when he was a demon all of two weeks ago come rushing back. The mark on his arm heats up a little at the reminder of just how off the rails he went. He'd almost brained his younger brother with a hammer, of all things. He tries to hide it, but his face still twists with pain at the memory, "You could say that."
The queen nods, as if she expected that response. She glances at Sam, seemingly very sad. "It's been hard," she looks back at Dean, sympathetically, "on both of you. I wanted to give you a chance to talk. Without barriers." She waves her hand in front of him and Dean suddenly feels lighter, more himself. He looks down and the mark is…gone. He can't help it, he gasps, looking back up at her with wide, and to his embarrassment, tear filled, eyes, "How…why?"
She smiles at him softly, knowingly, clasping her hands in front of her. "Because I too have a sister I would do anything for…and, just like you, I lost my way." Her eyes take on a distant look before she shakes her head. She turns to Sam. "Now, Sam. I'm going to remove the barrier that's not allowing you to speak and you're going to talk to your brother. You're going to tell him what you need to. Do you understand?"
Sam merely blinks, but she takes it as an agreement, because suddenly he groans.
"You…heard me." Sam say, voice rough.
She nods, but glances at Dean who looks confused.
"Heard him? Heard him how?" As grateful as he is to finally feel like himself for the first time in months, something about this situation doesn't sit right with him.
"Can you…can you let me sit up?" Sam asks, with barely concealed panic, before she can respond to Dean's question. Dean immediately moves forward but is stopped by the guard. He snarls at them, but stops when Sam mutters out, "Please."
"Sammy, it's ok. I'm going to get you out of here, alright?" Dean says, moving backwards from the guard to get a better view of his brother. To the Queen, he asks, "He ain't goin' anywhere, can't you at least let him sit up?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that."" The queen says solemnly, looking as if it pains her as much as it pains them.
Dean's hands curl into fists, he knew this was too good to be true. He demands, "Why the hell not?"
"I wish I could, but I can't. Fairy magic is unyielding in this regard, I'm afraid. It has already begun."
"It? It what? That doesn't explain jack shit-" Dean growls, but Sam cuts him off.
"Dean. She can't let me go until I atone."
Dean blinks, uncomprehendingly, "Atone? Atone for what? You haven't done anything wrong." He instantly comes to his brother's defense, because if anyone needs to atone, it should be him. He's the one that murdered all those people. He's the one who nearly killed his brother. He should be up there, strapped to a table, not Sam.
Sam's eyes look toward the ceiling, looking as if he'd rather face a hundred demons than say what he knows he has to.
"Sam," the queen says, gently, as if reminding him of something. Dean nearly moves again, but one look at the blonde haired fairy glaring holes in his head keeps him where he is.
Sam swallows, might as well bite the bullet. "I don't know if you remember it, but…before you were a demon…you died." Dean looks down, of course he remembers that, "I carried your body out of that warehouse where Metatron- and put you on your bed. I was…" he sighs, "messed up. I-" he stops himself, the feeling of mourning his brother washing over him. He tries to move his head to avoid showing the emotions fluttering over his face but can't so he closes his eyes.
"His sorrow was so deep we could feel it in our world." The Queen supplies, reaching out a hand to calm Sam but stops herself and her hand falls. "Humans aren't like fairies. They feel more deeply and honestly than we ever could hope for. Sam's anguish over losing you, rattled us more than anyone in the one thousand years I've been Queen. We'd never heard someone so anguished. So hurt. He cried out for help. For anyone willing to save you."
Dean clenches his jaw so tight that it starts to ache. He remembers more now about this type of fairy. "But you didn't? You knew my brother was hurting and you just-"
"We tried," the Queen interrupts, "we couldn't break through the barrier between our world and yours. It was unusual indeed. We couldn't even summon him here, like we typically do when someone is hurting."
Everyone's silent for a beat, before Sam suddenly yells out as his body starts to shake. His head feels like it's going to explode at any moment. Blood starts to drip from his nose, from his eyes. He screams as the feeling of his entire body being squeezed by an unseen force takes over. His body arches off the table as continues to pour out of him, thicker and thicker.
"Sam!" Dean yells, moving to help his brother but once again the guard stops him. He fights them, listening to his brothers anguished cries rallying him. "What the hell is going on? Help him!"
"Sam is the only one who can help him." The queen states, but her eyes crinkle with worry when her eyes see the man's distress. "Sam, fight it. You clearly know what we are and what we do, so you know what must be done. Tell your brother why you must atone."
"I…" Sam struggles, blood now starting to flow out of his mouth and he gags a little, but manages to get his bearings, "I said…we weren't brothers."
Finally, after too damn long, the blood eases and Sam's body stops jerking. His body falls back to the table and he groans, exhausted from whatever just happened.
"Sammy…" Dean says, helplessly, the guards are pretty much just holding him up at this point.
"I said that we'd be better off as partners," Sam says, regret and guilt clear in his voice. He glances down at Dean with unshed tears, "you died thinking that I…thinking I hated you. Thinking I wouldn't save you."
Dean can honestly say getting hit with a sledgehammer would have been less painful than hearing Sam's admission. It takes him a second to catch his breath.
"That's what you have to atone for?" Dean exclaims before glaring at the Queen, "Listen, bitch, he doesn't have to atone for shit." He switches over to Sam, "Dude, I know you, alright? I know how you…I know you could never hate me, Sam and I knew it then, too. So, no, I didn't die thinking you hate me. Just the opposite. Is that good enough? Can you let him go now?"
"It's not me you have to convince." The fairy queen says, floating down off the platform and the guards push Dean back to make room. He stumbles, but remains on his feet. She drifts so she's floating directly in front of him. She gestures to the platform, "Go. Sit with him. He's his own judge and jury. You have to convince him that he's worthy. I wish you good luck." She passes by him and pauses in the aisle. She snaps her fingers and stairs suddenly appear, leading up to the floating platform.
Dean pushes away from his guards and doesn't hesitate to climb them, relieved to find the chains around his ankles have disappeared. He doesn't even care that the chains around his wrists remain. All he can think about is getting to his brother. He hurries up the stairs, nearly tripping several times in his haste.
"Sammy…." He says, worriedly, finally making it to the where Sam's strapped to a table like an animal. Fury nearly takes over as he takes a good long look at his injured brother. Needless to say, Sam's a train wreck. There's hardly any spot on him that isn't covered in blood. Dean rests a hand on his brother's neck and squeezes, "Sammy, come on, man, look at me."
It takes a second, but Sam eventually, hesitantly, looks up, eyes showing just how exhausted he is and filled with so much anguish that it almost takes Dean's breath away. He hadn't seen him look like that since Dean's deal came due. If that thought isn't a kick in the pants, he doesn't know what is. He squeezes the back of Sam's neck again, reassuringly, "Sammy…listen. I know. Ok? I know." He gives him a watery smile, hoping that this is enough.
He glances at the straps, but they remain where they are. He looks back and Sam still has the hauntingly broken look. Sam swallows, "Dean, I…" then, just as abruptly, stops. He closes his eyes, breathing heavily. "I'm fine. I'm good."
Dean shakes his head, briefly glancing around the arena before back to his brother, "No, you're not, but you will be. Dude, your life depends on having a chick flick moment. Or like, 5. So, just let it all out, alright? So we can get home and get Cas to patch you up-"
Sam opens his eyes, "Cas can't patch me up."
"If this is some self-sacrificial bullshit," Dean starts, but Sam doesn't let him finish.
"Angels can't heal fairy magic. At least, not this kind." Sam says, some of his words starting to slur and that kicks Dean into overdrive.
Dean blows out a breath, "Alright, we'll deal with that later. Now, come on, lay it on me. What's going on in that big brain of yours?"
Sam looks hesitant, but he sighs, as if defeated. "You gave up everything for me. Your childhood. Friends. A normal life without monsters-" At Dean's face, he rushes on, "don't deny it. I know what you did that week you supposedly went missing on a hunt. You were at a boys home and you gave it up…for me." Sam swallows as emotion takes over, eyes glossy, "I'm not worth all that. I'm not. All I ever do is let you down. Stanford. Purgatory. The Gates of Hell. Do I even need to continue?"
Dean would love nothing more than to scream or yell or punch his brother into realizing just how much he's valued, but he knows now isn't the time for any of that, so he pauses, trying to think of a way to help his brother before finally, "Man, we've been through more shit than most people could ever dream of, but there hasn't been one single time where you've ever let me down." Sam opens his mouth to protest, "No, seriously. There have been times where I've been…hurt or mad or whatever, but you're worth…." His brain protests, a little, but he powers through, because it's Sam. Sam tied to a table, bleeding and hurting in more than one way. He swallows past the lump in his throat, "You're worth everything, Sam. You're my brother. There's nothing past or present that I'd put in front of you, you have to know that."
Sam startles a little at the latter part of Dean's speech. He looks a little confused, his patented 'there's this puzzle that I've got to figure out' face clear as day. "You've…said that before, haven't you? That last part."
Dean nods, looking a little pale as he admits, "When you…when you were dying from the Trials. When I was trying to…convince," trick, Dean's traitorous brain supplies, "you to stay. To fight. To live."
Sam's face clears of confusion, leaving anger and hurt in its wake. "Right."
Dean takes a second to look his brother over. "I get it, you know. Why you're so pissed about that. I get it now."
Sam looks at him in surprise, "Really?"
"Yeah. I mean, I understood it before, a little, but I'd been just so damn happy you were back and healthy…," he shakes his head in disbelief, "Still. I had no right to do that to anyone, much less my kid brother. I know I haven't said it, Sam, but I…" His throat nearly closes up, but he keeps his eyes trained on Sam. "I'm so sorry. I know saving you also broke you. I'm not sorry you're here, I won't ever be, but…how you got back. That…that's on me."
Sam stares at him before finally, finally, lets out a shaky breath and tears starting to fall from his eyes. "Thank you, Dean."
Dean snorts, the tears he'd been trying to hold back finally falling, "For what?"
"For finally admitting what you did," Sam says bluntly, "owning up to it. I…I needed that. I needed you to hear me."
"I did…I do," Dean promises, "I swear, Sammy-"
"No!" Sam snaps, worried eyes floating around before finally landing back on Dean, "Don't. Don't do that here. If you break it…I don't know what they'll do to you."
"That's all well and good, because I mean what I'm saying. Fairy consequences be damned. I promise, Sammy. I won't ever take that choice away from you again. When it's your time…" God damn, these words were hard to say, but he means every single one of them, "I'll let you go. You deserve that."
Sam lets out another shaky breath and closes his eyes. Dean panics and moves to touch his brother when the straps that'd been holding him to the table suddenly disappear.
"Sam," He says softly, hands hovering over Sam's hurt body.
"He'll rest now," The queen fairy suddenly appears and Dean makes a move to defend himself. At that moment, he realizes he's no longer bound by shackles and reaches into the back of his jeans where his gun rests. "There's no need for that, Dean. Unfortunately, I do have to give this back, but…I think you can handle it now."
She snaps and Dean gasps, feeling a burning sensation on his arm. He looks down, still keeping the gun trained on the fairy and sees the Mark of Cain reappear. He looks back up and Sam's sitting up. He drops the gun, all attention on his brother.
"Sammy?"
Sam lifts his head from where he'd dropped it, obviously exhausted, and gives his brother a smile. "I'm good, Dean."
"I'm so glad to hear it." The fairy chimes in, a bright smile on her face. "Be good, boys."
Before Dean or Sam could say or do anything, she snaps her fingers. They land back in the map room of the bunker, both in seats. The boys look around, stunned by what just happened, before they finally look back at each other. Sam, covered head to toe in various amounts of blood and Dean, emotionally exhausted from almost losing his brother, again.
"I need a beer."
"I need a nap."
"And about a billion band aids, little brother." Damn, that felt good to say. Dean does that thing where he stands up and pretends not to watch Sam when he says something important. Sam smiles, a dimpled one, before snorting then groaning when that hurts. "Maybe I'll just wrap up like a mummy."
"We can do better than that, Sammy." Dean laughs, feeling lighter and happier than he has in months. Hell, years. "Cas? Get your feathered ass over here. Time to start earnin' your keep."
Xx
Ahhh it's done! Hope you enjoyed! I've actually had this story on my computer since 2019, can you believe that?! I'm so glad I found it and finished it. Let me know if you liked it!