Rock
K Hanna Korossy

It was something that they really should have been done years ago, but that they'd never gotten around to. And then they'd found the Tentacle Queen in the Men of Letters Rhode Island chapter house, and suddenly it seemed a lot more important they check out all the chapter houses scattered around the country, make sure none of them had similar surprises.

But of course then they'd found a way to go to Apocalypse-world after Mom and Jack, and everything else took a back seat. And after Michael took off with Dean, nothing else mattered at all.

Except that Sam suddenly had a lot of extra hands searching for stuff to do, and as Bobby pointed out, no telling what kind of resources were waiting in the chapter houses. Maybe even something that could get an archangel out of a host. So Sam dug up a list of chapter houses, assigned pairs of hunters to them, and breathed a sigh of relief when the bunker got a lot quieter.

Then he forgot all about it until after Dean was back and hiding in his room, and a team came back from St. Louis with crates of books and a few curious wooden boxes.

"Curse boxes," Dean declared dismissively after one look. Sam had taken the boxes to show his brother, both valuing Dean's experience and hoping to engage him. But Dean was already back to his Batman comic.

"I don't think so," Sam said thoughtfully. "These sigils, they're not shielding or warding signs. In fact, I'm pretty sure they're meant to protect what's inside."

"What, like treasure?" Dean said, looking up again with a glimmer of interest.

"Maybe." Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. "Dungeon?" The room was the best protected in the bunker and the safest place to open any questionable containers.

Dean paused, and just as Sam's heart started to sink, his brother set the comic aside. "Yeah, okay. Let's go, Pandora."

Right, that was reassuring.

At least Dean was leaning forward curiously as Sam set the three boxes down on the table in the dungeon. With Dean's discomfort at the bunker full of hunters, the trauma of what Michael had done to him, and dodging monsters who still thought he was Michael, Sam was lucky to coax his brother out of his room at all, let alone pique his interest.

Hopefully, he wasn't making a big mistake doing it this way.

Sam took a deep breath and sprung the latch on the first box.

Which was…empty. Lined with a scrap of satin, but anything else inside was long gone.

Dean blew out a breath next to him and took the next box.

In that was a key. Oversized, curiously carved, and blue. In fact, Sam couldn't tell what it was made from even when he picked it up and smoothed his thumb over it. None of the carvings seemed like pictographs or sigils, either. Frowning, he returned to the box, and found a sheaf of yellowed paper in the bottom, covered with spidery print in a language Sam didn't recognize. He was itching to figure it out, though.

"Looks like you're gonna be busy, Research Boy," Dean said with a grin. He also fingered the key. "What do you think it opens?"

"Something old," was the only guess Sam could venture. Stone keys often predated refined metal, and that was pretty darn old.

Dean set the key back in the box and gave Sam a side-eye. "You ready?"

Sam braced himself and nodded.

Dean reached for the box, hesitated. "You know, this could be another Lovecraft tentacle monster, or some kinda John Carpenter parasite or something. Last chance to keep it locked up."

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You think the Men of Letters locked up an alien infestation in a box they just left out on one of their shelves?"

"No, but a few years ago I didn't think a turducken sandwich could turn you into a mindless robot, either."

It wasn't a very good analogy, but Dean had a point. In their line of work, every spell they tried, every door they opened, every file they unsealed had mind-bogglingly bad potential consequences. It was kind of amazing they hadn't been bitten in the pursqueeter, to quote Dean, before this. What if this was the box that did it?
Then again, they faced mind-bogglingly big challenges. Lucifer threatened their world, and an apocalyptic Earth threatened their mom and Jack. Big problems like that usually took big risks to solve.

"Do it," Sam said quietly.

Dean needed no further prompting, flipping the lid open.

A chunk of what looked like quartz sat anti-climactically inside.

"Huh." Dean held his hand over it a second like he was feeling for vibes or something, then carefully lifted it out.

Sam watched him closely. "Anything?"

"Nope. Wanna try?" Dean handed it to him.

Apparently, it took two people touching the rock to activate it.

Sam was suddenly assailed with emotion: rage, helplessness, shame, terror, drowning. It was like a fire hose to the face, and Sam struggled to breathe as it rushed over him. Emotions he felt as his own, but…not. In fact, as he gulped in air and tried to stand his ground, he knew exactly where they came from.

Dean yanked his hand away and fell back hard on his rear.

The tsunami immediately disappeared, leaving Sam gasping and wobbly. He tightened his grip on both the rock and the table to keep from joining his brother.

Dean had his legs pulled up to his body and was rubbing his face with both hands. Putting distance between them, and Sam couldn't blame him even as he longed to make contact.

"Dean…"

"You felt it, too, didn't you." Dean's voice was muffled behind his fingers. "I'm guessing it works both ways? Because worrying about every freakin' person on the planet, that had to be you."

Oh. He'd felt what Dean was going through…and Dean had felt him. All the worry and fear that pressed down on him every moment. It was embarrassing somehow, to be that naked. But also…not.

Sam set the rock back in the box and reached a hand down to Dean. His brother looked at it, then at him, before grabbing on to Sam and letting himself be pulled to his feet.

Then he was back to avoiding Sam's gaze. "Don't freak out about this, okay? It's not always like that." He glanced sideways at Sam. "You just…caught me at a bad moment."

"Okay." Sam nodded, knowing this particular bad moment had lasted for months now. And he recognized what the pounding in his head had been, too, like someone throwing rocks inside his skull. That and the background screams. Sam had known Michael's presence was hard on Dean, but not how much.

"But, uh." Dean seemed to bite the bullet and looked him in the eye. "Thanks. All the other stuff, that was in there, too. You know, when you were looking for me." He patted Sam on the shoulder, gave the open boxes one last frown, and left the dungeon.

It took him a second to get it, but then Sam's mouth pulled up as he watched his brother go. Dean hadn't just experienced Sam's worry and weight of responsibility. The other stuff: that was Dean-speak for Sam's concern for him and determination and gratitude and love. If Dean had felt all that…well, maybe this had been worth it.

Sam thoughtfully closed the box, then the other two. He'd known Dean was struggling, although the depth of his pain had been a shock. But none of that was why Sam had immediately known what—who—he was feeling. It was the staggering amount of devotion and affection and pride he'd felt, too. And the strength and resolve it gave Dean.

And that was worth everything.

The End