Chapter 1 Options

[Guest_aot_predestined_*]

Sam had gotten into a habit that he wouldn't dare admit. When he and Ruby would stand in front of a Devil's Trap, a black-eyed demon hissing profanity and slurs through gritted teeth, he would conjure images of Dean to help him get to the place he needed to get to. At first, Ruby had been frustrated by his lack of success.

"It's in you Sam," she'd encourage, though he almost always got annoyed with such claims. To accept that it was in him accepted a plethora of other issues that he just didn't want to deal with. So when he finally found it inside of himself, it came not with Ruby's goading, or even his own almost neurotic need to succeed at a task, but rather the memory of holding his brother's dead body in his hands. He remembered everything about it. The hardwood floors, the wet clammy feeling the blood made after it soaked through his jeans and his shirt. The gradual loss of heat that permeated out of Dean's body into the universe. How it felt, how he looked. Everything about that night had been burned into his memory, and he relived it every night. And it was here that he found the extra motivation to push him over the edge into that place where he could conjure the right amount of anger and control to literally squeeze the demon out of the host's body.

The first time he had done it, successfully, without killing the human, he actually found himself wanting to celebrate. And that had frightened him.

"It's something to be happy about Sam," Ruby had insisted. Her now black hair pulled back behind her ears, her eyes trying desperately to read his feelings.

"Even though I saved her something about it just feels wrong. I can't explain it," he had said. And then, he turned his head and remembered that he was talking to a demon. "Not to you, at least."

But by now, he knew the routine. Knew it well. Knew the process of trapping, pulling the power from deep inside his body, the image of his dead brother flashing before his eyes before he'd rip the demon out of its body. It was the habit he kept furthest away from the world. That even after Dean's death, he had needed him for something. Had needed his memory.

Because that's all Sam Winchester had now of his brother. Memories. Pictures and images and feelings that flushed through his body at night. And when they hit, he'd clam up, furrow his brow, anger rising in his pupils. And Ruby would know. She could tell the mannerisms, the drastic change of body language. All sure signs that he was in a mood, that he was in a place. And that place was the memory of his dead brother. And she knew not to push him, or even tap him when he was there. Because he was like a rabid animal during those moments. She learned the first time and didn't need to be reminded.

It had been innocent enough. Traveling together, on the trail of a demon. Had been easy to just pose as a couple and stay in a hotel. Their cover story. Sam had fallen asleep and Ruby, not needing sleep since...she was a demon...had just stared into the darkness, her thoughts her nighttime companion. And then he had started to make noises. Almost mewing sounds. And it had perked Ruby's interest. It had been a long time she she heard those sounds come out of something she wasn't killing. And out of something bordering on compassion but mostly curiosity, she had come near him and reached out.

And the touch had felt good. But then his eyes had snapped open and it wasn't his brother. And the massive disappointment had infuriated him to the point that he had told her to go, to get the fuck out. So she stayed away a few days, and then meandered back into his life with a stilted apology and a bitter cynicism that convinced Sam that he needed her for what they were doing.

And that's how Ruby had learned to let Sam be when he was having memories of Dean. To not even ask about them, because even though she remembered what it was to have tastes of humanity, she didn't remember it enough to understand the bond Sam had with his brother.

And so, for Sam Winchester, that's how he spent the first months after his brother's death. Regret and remorse, a pain inside of him so strong that he could only think of his brother for moments at a time before it got to be too unbearable. And, of course, doing something that he knew his brother would not approve of. But in his mind, he was doing good. In his mind, the pros outweighed the cons. And in his mind, the lines he was crossing were all in the name of a better good. But, on any given night, as he put his head against his pillow, he knew, without a doubt, that he'd jump back across that line if he got to spend one minute with his brother. All that mattered. All that had mattered. All that would ever matter.

[Ithiel Dragon]

It probably shouldn’t have surprised Dean too much that his first few hours back on earth had been just as chaotic as his last. The universe sure had a sick sense of humor, unfortunately, Dean wasn’t finding anything particularly amusing right now.

After all, there wasn’t really anything funny about having to claw your way out of your own grave. Waking up in complete darkness. The stench of wet earth and decay overpowering, choking. Trapped in a pine box barely much bigger than you and no room to move. Dean had never been claustrophobic before but after today he’d probably have to add that to the list of his greatest fears. Right below watching Sam die and his fear of flying…

Sammy.

His last memory as the hellhound was ripping him to shreds was of his brother, pinned helpless against the wall by that bitch Lilith while Sam screamed his name desperately. He remembered his brother’s screams more clearly than he did his own, and that was how he’d finally forced his body that felt too weak to do anything to move.

Breaking open his own casket and holding his breath against the crushing avalanche of dirt that came rushing in on top of him. Digging is way up. Fighting to free himself. His lungs screaming for air even before he was half way, his heart pumping acid through his veins from the effort, and his arms barely obeying his commands even knowing if he wasn’t able to do this he was as good as dead. Wouldn’t that be just fucking hilarious? Alive now just to die in his own grave…

Yeah, something, somewhere, really did have a fucking bad sense of humor.

Sam… Sam…

He repeated his brother’s name over and over, even when he felt ready to pass out from lack of air. Every time his body felt like it just wanted to give up and roll over and die again, he pictured his brother’s tortured face and he fought harder. It worked. Because somehow he was suddenly grasping at open air rather than more dirt. Pulling himself free of the earth and taking tortured breaths of fresh air, coughing out the dirt that had managed to get into his throat and lungs.

Dean wasn’t sure how long he’d laid there on top of his own grave, gasping like a fish out of water, body trembling with exhaustion. But finally he managed to force his eyes open even though the sunlight practically burned his eyes out of his sockets. Like he’d never seen it before. He wasn’t sure how much more time passed before he found the strength to stand, turning around in a circle and staring at his gravesite where it looked like a bomb had gone off or something.

What the hell… More questions. As though he didn’t already have enough. Where the hell was he? How the hell was he alive? Why wasn’t he in hell? But above all, where was his brother?

Sam… he had to find Sam…

He’d started walking. He didn’t have much choice to do anything else. Sweating, and covered in grave dirt, at least that was something he was used to. His throat dry as a desert, still coughing up bits of dirt and god knew what else, and the blazing sun overhead feeling like it was scorching his skin, but he kept walking.

Finally he came up on the gas station, just a little mom and pop shop in the middle of nowhere, but it was like an oasis in a desert as far as he was concerned. It was closed, but Dean felt absolutely no guilt breaking into the joint. Going first to the fridge, thirsty for water in a way he’d never felt in his life. Draining one bottle in seconds before cracking open another and doing the same again, though it felt like nothing would satisfy the burning thirst he felt.

Hunger clawed its way up from his stomach next, but when he caught sight of the newspaper with the date on it he forgot about almost everything else. September… it was September, four months since he last remembered. Since he had been torn to pieces by a rabid hellhound and his brother… Had Sam even survived?

Fear rose up almost choking him but he pushed it down for now. Sam had to be fine. He had to. Damn it. Because Dean was here after all. He wasn’t in hell where he was supposed to be. Who else could have gotten him out but his brother? Who else would have cared enough? He ignored the voice in his head that whispered if Sam had gotten him out of hell then why wasn’t his brother here?

More questions… one at a time…

Too bad more only kept coming. From the shock at seeing his body without any signs of the fact he’d been torn to ribbons by a demonic pit bull, to the handprint literally branded onto his shoulder, to the thing… force… that had blown past him, and nearly made his eardrums explode along with all the windows in the gas station all he had were questions and no fucking answers to any of them.

Calling Sam’s last cell number had been a dead end, and again Dean had to squash down the panic that tried to rise in him at what that might mean. Calling Bobby produced little better results, the older hunter at first not recognizing his voice, then threatening to kill him if he called again… Scratch off that Bobby might have had anything to do with the fact he was no longer rotting in hell.

Fear, adrenaline, and desperation to find out what had happened to his brother kept him going when his body felt ready to give in or pass out or something. Grabbing a map and hotwiring the car in the gas station’s parking lot Dean’s goal was as clear in his mind as Sam’s face, and all that kept him going. He had to find his brother, that was all that mattered…

[Guest_aot_predestined_*]

It was early on a Sunday morning when Sam's eyes popped open and he stared directly into the low morning sun that glared at him through the barely open hotel blinds. He rolled overly quickly, pulling the covers up to shade himself, blinking until the stinging went away. After a few moments, he pulled he covers back down and looked around the room. Ruby was gone. But nothing strange there. He oftentimes woke up with her gone and hadn't given it any attention. His throat tasted like dinner from the night before and he smacked his mouth noisily against itself, needing water -- if only he knew it was sympathy pain.

He reached out to the nightstand where he kept a glass of tap water and brought it to his lips. It was lukewarm, like everything else in the room. Late summer in the Midwest was still boiling. He peeled the covers off of his body and continued lying on top of the sheets, his body wet with heat and sweat.

He felt Dean particularly strongly this morning. And didn't know why. Couldn't know why. Every time his eyelids shut, he saw images. This is never going to stop, he thought to himself as he watched the idle twirl of the ceiling fan. Dusty and old-fashioned, it spun on its axis casting down a light breeze that made the very top of his skin cool but everything else was still sizzling. Why he insisted on sleeping under the comforter was still a mystery to him. He crawled out of bed, the sheets clinging to his body wrinkling and pulling up from around the edges of the bed, his bare feet touching the carpet and rubbing against them. He was naked except for a pair of boxers, the heat of the night before too strong to go to bed in night clothes. And as for his travel companion, discretion had gone out the window.

She had seen him in far more compromising situations for him to be embarrassed about a little skin. She sure as hell wasn't. The air was thick, and he felt cramped in the room. More sympathy pains. After walking across to the blinds and angrily squeezing them shut, he made his way to the bathroom. Standing at the sink, dipping his hands under the cold stream of faucet water. Bringing hand fulls of water to his face, splashing it against his skin and then watching the beads run off of it.

He lifted his eyes to the mirror, to look himself in the face, and saw a resemblance of his brother. They didn't look that much alike, hardly ever being recognized as brothers, but every now and then he'd see something in his eyes, and it would all pour back. He leaned against the porcelain sink, his body weight resting against his hands which gripped the edge.

"Never gonna get any better," he mouthed to himself, just barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

"It will."

His eyes gravitated toward Ruby's figure, who was standing behind him in the doorway. That was something else Sam Winchester had gotten used to, traveling with a demon. Having her come in and out of his world with no sound. Whether she used the door, or just...appeared. The habits of demons, at least this demon, were stealth, so he had learned not to be overly surprised if she ever appeared, anywhere.

"Don't talk to me about him," Sam warned, reaching for a towel to dry his face with.

"I'm just saying...it gets better."

Sam's fist clenched around the hand towel as he spun on the balls of his feet and took a menacing step towards Ruby. "Don't," he hissed, his teeth clenched together, his lips barely apart. Ruby stood her ground, not moving, letting her smaller frame take up as much of the doorway as she could. She wasn't in the mood to back down from Mr. Angst King this morning, so she didn't. But as their bodies stood near one another, there was a bolt of sexual chemistry that startled Sam. He blinked, breaking his eye contact from Ruby, and pushed past her, the bare skin of his side coming in contact with the bare skin of her arm.

"What'd you find out?" he mumbled, reaching for his clothes.

She began to talk, her arms crossed, her back leaning against the door frame. But Sam was having trouble listening. Because he was feeling guilty about the touch, any touch, every touch. At first, he justified the sexual tension by telling himself it was hormones. He hadn't slept with anyone since...just...since. And it was a natural hormonal thing. Ruby's host was attractive, and she had been there. But the world of wrong had been hovering above his head. He'd cringe when he'd think about what Dean would think about that particular aspect of traveling with Ruby, and not be able to think it through long enough before he'd angrily push the thoughts out of his mind.

But secretly, when Ruby wasn't looking and he'd steal glances, he'd be able to justify it all to himself. The world of wrong, the line of taboo, the existence of boundaries had been something that he had crossed before. With Dean. Maybe he was just flawed that way. He had demon blood pumping through his veins. Was it such a leap to think he was capable of deviance? It wasn't. Since losing his brother, Sam had picked up one trait of Dean's that he carried around with him like a backpack full of cinder blocks. A detrimental lack of self-esteem, all grounded in his inability to save his brother. So no, it wasn't a leap in his mind to think he was capable of deviance. He just had to pray that if he did enough good, one day he could wipe the slate clean enough to be able to live with himself.

"So are you ready?"

The voice came back to him like a snake. His eyes came up from the floor, to Ruby's face. "Let's go."

[Ithiel Dragon]

The drive from Illinois to the salvage yard in South Dakota, where Bobby lived, normally took about twelve hours, however Dean made it in about ten. Dean wasn’t even really sure how he made it without being pulled over… or wrapping his ‘borrowed’ car around a tree, without falling asleep at the wheel in exhaustion. Adrenaline could only keep him going for so long, after all, and after the first six hours the trials of the day were all starting to take a toll on his newly resurrected body.

Thoughts of Sam… and lots of stops for coffee… was about the only thing that kept him going. Memory of his brother’s tortured face, Sam’s screams louder than his own as his brother was forced to watch him die…

I’m not going to let you go to hell… How many times had Sam told him that? Promising to save him. Dean wondered if he’d ever really believed it. Even in the end, when they’d been so close to killing Lilith. Before she’d gotten the drop on them… Fuck… he should have known. Somehow he should have known…

Sammy…

He didn’t blame Sam for not saving him. No. Never. Dean had made his choice at the crossroads. He’d known exactly what he was doing, what his fate would be, and he’d made the deal. If he had to make the choice all over again… it wasn’t really a choice. He’d still do it. Give his soul in exchange for his brother’s life, without thought. At least he’d gotten one last year with his brother. At least he had the chance to know…

Dean squashed that line of thinking brutally. He just… couldn’t think about that right now. There was too much… else… he had to deal with right now without thinking about that. But every time his thoughts began to wander they traitorously wandered in ‘that’ direction. Memories of strong arms and surprisingly soft lips. A warm voice whispering reassurance and love into his ear…

The reunion with Bobby could have gone better, but Dean had to admit it could have gone a lot worse too. The older hunter might not be in his ‘prime’ anymore, but that didn’t mean that Bobby was a pushover. It had taken cutting open his own arm with a silver knife and getting doused in the face with holy water before the older man believed it was him, and to be honest he would have shed a whole lot more of his own blood if he’d needed to convince him. That man had been like a father to him, to them, since their real father had died.

Thankfully it hadn’t come to that.

The relief Dean had felt when Bobby said that Sam was alive, the last time he’d seen him, unfortunately was short lived. To be honest he wasn’t surprised his brother had gone off alone. He could remember all too well the hours he had spent drowning in his grief staring at his brother’s corpse before he’d chased Bobby away. Refusing the older hunter’s help. Needing to be alone with his pain. He could understand, but he still didn’t like it.

He liked even less when the things Bobby told him about his brother began to add up in a way Dean didn’t like one damn bit. Between how his grave had looked, to the brand on his arm, to the presence he’d felt back at the gas station… a deal… Sam must have somehow made a deal to get him out of hell.

“It’s what I would have done…”

A bitter cold began to flow through his veins like little shards of ice was running through his body instead of blood. The crossroad demon’s words coming back to haunt him when she’d offered to give him one year only, still it was a better deal than their father had gotten. Dean could still remember the horrible fear and grief he’d felt, literally minutes after waking up from a coma, their father dying… If Sam had made a deal to get him out of hell, why hadn’t the younger man been there? What if the deal he’d made wasn’t as ‘good’ as Dean’s had been…

As desperate as he was to find his brother he still took Bobby’s advice of a shower and getting himself cleaned up. Though he flat out refused the older hunter’s next suggestion that he take just a few hours to rest before they go looking for Sam.

“You need to rest, boy. You look like death warmed over, pardon the pun.” Bobby said, but the older man’s concern hadn’t swayed him one bit. No. He’d rest once he found Sam. Once he knew his brother was safe. Not before.

It really was a good thing he knew his brother, almost better than Sam knew himself. Knew younger man being a major in the closet Star Wars nut, would use that name, and they were able to track down where his brother was by his cell. Illinois… Right where he’d popped up. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. God, Sam, what did you do?

“I’m driving.” Bobby insisted once they finished packing up one of his cars, and for once Dean didn’t protest. After about an hour of driving sheer exhaustion finally won out over his stubbornness and he drifted off to sleep. Too bad he wasn’t exhausted enough not to dream.

Every once in a while Bobby glanced over at the sleeping young man beside him. Worry etching in every line of his face. Every time Dean flinched or made a soft tortured sound. The older man debating whether or not to wake him, god only knew what nightmares were crawling around in the boy’s head now, but he needed sleep…

Finally he decided if it looked like the dreams were getting too bad, he would definitely wake the younger man up, if not he’d just let him get the rest he obviously needed. Dean didn’t wake up once during the entire drive. That was almost worrisome enough on its own.

When they finally pulled into the parking lot of the little no tell motel that Sam was supposed to be staying at, Bobby finally shook Dean awake. The boy came to looking more than a little startled and wide eyed, as though he had no idea where he was, but thankfully Dean seemed to remember the second the older calmly said, “We’re here.”

[Guest_aot_predestined_*]

The last outing had went as expected. Trap and kill -- the demon at least. As was usual, now that he had gotten the technique down, the host had been saved and was now in the local ER recovering, hopefully blocking out most of the memories from being possessed for as long as they had been. And now, they were back in the motel. A moody Sam sitting in a chair, leaning his weight back against the two rear legs, and a frisky Ruby pacing around in her unmentionables talking about the progress he was making. Droning on and on like she always did when he made some leap in his development.

"Are you even listening to me?"

He averted his eyes away from her, hating the nagging sounds that were coming out of her mouth. Traveling with a woman was a far cry from traveling with Dean. And he much preferred being with Dean in every single way. While Ruby was vastly different than a normal woman, she still had tendencies that got under his skin that he just tried to deal with. But it was hard sometimes, like now, when she'd parade around in nearly no clothes and expect Sam to just ignore the sexuality in the room.

"You aren't saying anything new."

She stopped her pacing and watched Sam for a few moments before he gave her a warning look. She finally just plopped back on the bed, twisting her body so she could at least continue her conversation. But the distant look in Sam's eyes indicated to her -- at least -- that he wasn't there. He was off thinking about his brother again. And Jesus, she was tired of that elephant. That annoying repetition that they dealt with almost every single day. Whether she did something to remind him of Dean, whether Dean was brought up in the kind of music that was on the radio. It was like Sam couldn't separate anything from that guy. And she wasn't that fond of him in the first place, so to have him be a constant presence in their time together, even though he was rotting in the ground, had been annoying as hell. But she couldn't do that. She needed him, at least for now, to tolerate her. And if she started on about Dean, she'd lose him.

And that's when she remembered. They were here...near where Dean was buried. And that must be why he was acting extra bitchy tonight.

And it was. He tried to avoid coming close to the grave site because he was inexplicably drawn to it. To stand over the ground where his brother's body was and just talk to it. Not about anything in particular. He even kept the shame of using his powers away from him, as if Dean wouldn't know, wherever he was, as long as he didn't tell it to the ground. And as always, those visits ended with him on his hands and knees, his forehead pressed against the dirt, tears streaming down his face.

Why'd you leave me...why couldn't I save you...always saved me...I couldn't save you...

"You'll go tomorrow," Ruby offered.

He was oftentimes filled with this urge to end Ruby, right then. But he knew he couldn't. He was on a journey now, and if he didn't have a Virgil for the unlit path, he'd surely get lost. But that didn't stop him from throwing enough hate at her to make her regret every opening her mouth.

"Just order a fucking pizza and keep your mouth shut." He stood up abruptly, kicked the chair back, and walked into the bathroom, slamming the door in the process.

Ruby rolled her eyes and picked up the phone. Before the call connected, she mumbled a few choice phrases of her own at the younger...well, now only Winchester boy. "Could snap your stupid little mortal neck you ass -- yes, hello, I'd like to order a..."

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean made a face as he and Bobby walked down the hallway of one of the sleaziest motels that he’d ever been in, and that was saying a lot, considering some of the dumps he and his brother used to spend the night. It was one of those places you expected to see as a backdrop in bad porno film. Complete with tacky mirrors on the ceiling and come stains on the sheets. He rolled his eyes at the little red hearts with numbers on them on the doors. Someone must have thought they were cute or something when they designed them. Like it would somehow soften the blow of what exactly went on behind those doors inside the rooms you could pay for by the hour.

What the hell was Sam doing in a place like this?

But his brother was here. That was all that really mattered to Dean right now. It had been surprisingly easy to get the room number from the manager. All they needed was fifty bucks and Bobby pretending he was an outraged father who had tracked his son down to this sleazy joint, giving the manager his brother’s description, and that was it, no questions asked.

Dean had a feeling similar scenes happened pretty often. So the guy hadn’t even batted an eyelash before going back to his office and television sitcoms. What did he care anyway? His brother had already paid for the room for the night in advance.

As they stopped in front of the door with the little red heart with the number on it that matched the one the manager gave them, Dean felt his stomach clench and his heart speed up a little. He knocked. Holding his breath. Almost afraid of what they would, or wouldn’t, find.

However the last thing he was expecting was a chick in her underwear answering the door rather than his brother asking them where the pizza was. What the fuck?

“I think we have the wrong room…” Was all Dean could think to say, barely keeping the bitterness and disappointment he felt from his voice. Damn it! The manager must have written the wrong number down in his log or something and now what the hell were they supposed to do? Go knocking door to door until one of them opened and his brother was on the other side? Not that Dean wouldn’t do that if it came to it but…

And then suddenly someone stepped into doorway behind the woman, and in that moment everything else in the world could have burned away in hellfire for all he cared because he was looking into his brother’s eyes. His brother’s image that had literally given him the strength to dig out of his own grave no longer a mere memory but standing in front of him real and alive.

He couldn’t really describe what he felt right then, but he knew it was similar to the first time he’d laid eyes on Sam after he’d made the deal to bring his brother back from the dead. Seeing his brother for the first time living and breathing, not cold and dead, and feeling like he had come back to life too. The same intense relief that made him weak and gave him strength at the same time.

“Hiya Sammy…” Dean finally said softly. There was so much more he wanted to say, but right now, it was all he could manage.

[Guest_aot_predestined_*]

The sound had driven him out of his self-exiled state in the bathroom, hearing the knock on the door, and then the confusion from Ruby. His senses perked as he felt something wrong with the entire situation and exited the bathroom with his guard up. But "something wrong" hardly prepared him for the gravity of what he saw standing in the door way. And when he finally made the final few steps before that image came into his frame of sight, the color flushed out of his face and the air was drug out of his lungs, with a hook and a chain.

Dean...

Can't be...

He could only think in fragments. Short, jittery fragments that bounced around in his head, unsure of where to go, unable to leave his mouth for lack of air and nerves and fear and oh god...everything. His brother, his dead brother, stood in the doorway next to Bobby, this unimaginable distance between the two of them. His eyes broke away from Dean, to Bobby, looking for validation, looking for the truth, looking for answers. But, unlike the bond he and Dean had, a simple look from Bobby could not explain the world away.

And so months of nightmares, months of fear, months of a desperate need to want his brother back eroded in reality. Because that's what his life was, one stilted fucked-up reality after the next. And the reality of the situation was that Dean was dead, and whatever stood in the doorway couldn't be Dean. Wasn't Dean. Oh god, why can't it be Dean?

"Hey Sammy..." came the soft reply, out of Dean's lips, which looked no worse for wear as Sam's eyes locked on them for a moment. It had his voice. It had his rhythm...it had his everything...but it couldn't be him.

Dean took two steps forward, approaching for a contact, Sam was sure. But in his head, he was bracing for an attack. His body tensed and his hand, by his side, wrapped around the small knife he kept at his belt-line. He was going to have to kill something that looked just like his brother -- and his life continued to sucker punch him in the liver.

The third step brought him close enough, so pure instinct, pure raw instinct and this neurotic fatalism that said this couldn't be what he wanted, this couldn't be what he prayed for, this couldn't be Dean made him react. He pulled the knife out with a sharp, measured movement, and lunged, his eyes locked on his target, his feet pushing himself forward.

And the first touch he and Dean shared, after Dean crawled out of the grave, was in violence. His right hand high in the air, the knife elevated to plunge down, their bodies intertwined as he used surprise and force to push what looked like Dean against the wall. And finally, he found the will to talk. Somewhere in the bleeding gut that was killing him right now, that wanted nothing more than to drop the knife and wrap his arms around his brother. Wanted nothing more than to smell his skin and hear his voice against his ear. Wanted nothing more than for it all to go away...for it all to be like it was...

But he was taken off guard by Bobby jumping into the mix, wrapping his older arms around the young man and pulling him abruptly off Dean, a few steps backward, pressure and a scuffle, pulling against him, trying to be free to get this constant reminder...constant craving out of his mind.

"Who are you?" he yelled, his voice catching in his chest, maybe due to overwhelming emotion, maybe due to Bobby's tight grip which kept him from flinging himself back at Dean. But that's when he saw the most familiar look on Dean's face that he could. His face contorted from that raw emotional place it had been, into that argumentative big brother look, that Sam had seen so much, and had grown to love, even if it meant he was getting scolded.

But even in the familiarity, he wouldn't let himself believe it could really be his brother. Because the implications of that were so heavy, and so much that something so big couldn't be wasted on him. The world couldn't be that good to him. He didn't deserve it.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Shocked didn’t exactly cover the expression on his brother’s face. The expression ‘you looked like you’ve seen a ghost’ was more fitting, and should have been funny except it wasn’t. Not right now.

Sam said nothing to his greeting. Just staring at him, and Dean couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. Couldn’t stop himself from moving forward. Drawn forward, he would have said against his will, except it wasn’t. Truth was he wanted nothing more than to be closer to Sam, to touch him, prove to himself that he was real...

Ignoring the girl he stepped past. Ignoring Bobby. Ignoring the voice in his head that was whispering a warning…

Maybe he should have listened to it because for the second time in the same day Dean found himself having to defend himself against someone he loved. The person he loved most, to be exact. Bringing his arm up to stop his brother from plunging a knife into his throat. Even though it felt like the younger man had stabbed him in the heart as Sam slammed him hard back against the wall. Knocking all the air out of him in a rush.

“Who are you!” His brother’s words stunned him even more than getting attacked without warning by his brother. Of course Sam had to recognize him, but the younger man was acting like he didn’t know… that Dean was alive… If Sam had done something to bring him back, how could he not know?

Thankfully Bobby’s reflexes were good and he was able to pull Sam off of him though Dean could tell it took a lot of effort on the older hunter’s part.

“What you didn’t do this?!” Dean finally managed to shout back in surprise once he caught his breath. As Sam struggled to break Bobby’s grip so he could attack him again, and Dean could only stand there in utter confusion. Wanting nothing more than to wrap his baby brother up in his arms and hold on tight but knowing he couldn’t without getting stuck with a knife was one of the most painful moments of his life.

“It’s him Sam! I’ve already been through this. Its really him.” Bobby was saying. Trying to talk Sam down. To get him to listen. To prove to his brother he was real.

[Guest_aot_predestined_*]

An accusation thrown at him took him off guard, but he was in defense mode so he brushed it aside.

"Do what?" He yelled, still pulling against Bobby. What could he have done to cause any of this? Because that's the impression he was getting from Dean. That his frustrated face read a mix of anger and relief, but he couldn't tell which took up more of it.

His struggle against Bobby gradually eased off, as the words penetrated his buzzing head. Buzzing for so many reason. He was staring at his dead brother, for one. And then a flood of questions started pouring through his body, all of which demanded answers immediately. But there were no answers for Sam, other than the one that he read in his brother's eyes. The one that told him it was true. That Bobby wasn't lying. That it was him.

He started to shake, his body trembling under the weight of the revelation. Like seeing something you want so much actually materialize in front of your eyes, and you not knowing what to do with it. And in that moment, only two things existed in the world. Sam and Dean. The brothers were back. Ruby by the door wasn't there. Bobby, his body hovering over him, wasn't there. The smell of day old clothing and food containers wasn't there. The tackiness of the hotel room, made all the more awkward by this intrusion of people whose opinions he cared about...wasn't there.

Just he and Dean. Like it should be. Dean mouthed some words that he couldn't understand. Couldn't focus long enough to know what they were, or what they meant. All he knew is that he needed his big brother's arms around him. So he lunged forward, this time not out of violence, but out of this desperate need to be near Dean. To hold onto him, to grab a hold and not let go, like some junkyard mongrel whose jaw gripped tight and wouldn't release.

They crashed into one another, Sam's head and hands knowing exactly where to go, his arms wrapping around Dean's frame, his head resting against Dean's shoulder. And like that, everything didn't matter anymore. If only for a minute, everything became right in the world. Because honestly, how could anything not be alright when they were like this.

But it had to end. They couldn't stay in a stasis bubble for the rest of their lives, much to Sam's chagrin, so they pulled apart. And cold reality began to creep back into the world.

"So are you two...like...together?"

He remembered, for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, that Ruby was in the room. And his nerves shot back up. Oh Christ...this could end badly. He looked over at her, trying to remember what it was she had said. Together? Oh...that was a simple question with a simple answer. Just like the meaning of life and why there's evil in the world.

But in front of Ruby, in front of Bobby, a surge of fear and shame crept back into his heart.

"Uh...what?" He blinked a few times, trying to form words. "No...he's my brother." He glanced back at Dean and couldn't tell what he was thinking. If he was thinking that they were so much more than that. If he even remembered it. If he even cared about what had happened before he went to Hell. It all seemed somewhat unimportant right now. After all, he was back from hell. And...hopefully, they had plenty of time to sort that out.

But Ruby was playing along. She knew that if Dean realized who she was, that Sam would have to answer questions a lot faster than he would want to. And she was bitter. How had he come back? She didn't even know the answers to that. Not yet. But she'd sure as hell find out how. Because, secretly, she had been fucking glad Dean had died. It was a barrier standing in the way of Sam using his powers that she didn't want to have to deal with. And now that it was back...yeah...routines would have to change.

But they'd change at their own pace. And if she didn't play this right, things could happen in a way that would ruin all the work she put into Sam over the past few months.

"Oh...got it, I guess," she said, noticing the way Sam was panting and the way he had crashed into Dean and noticing all of these pieces of this puzzle that were slowly sliding into place. "Look...I should probably go..."

And she had given Sam an out. And he knew it, and was grateful. Because even though his mind was racing, he knew that he couldn't let Dean know what was going on. The consequences would be too much for him right now.

"Yeah...yeah...that's probably a good idea." He glanced back at Dean who was giving him a look that was far too light for what was going on right now. But he didn't care how Dean looked at him. As long as he was there to do so.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean couldn't help but watch every expression that flashed across his brother's face. He could see exactly when Bobby's words started to reach the younger man. Disbelief warring with hope, anger warring with confusion. It hurt to watch. Oh god it hurt. But the second he saw belief enter Sam's eyes the elder brother found himself fighting back tears.

"I know… I look fantastic." He said, barely above a whisper, his voice breaking a little over the words. Trying to joke. Trying to make the situation somehow lighter, because that's simply what he'd always done when emotions ran too high. Because he didn't know how to deal with them any other way.

But then suddenly Sam's came to him, his brother's arms wrapping so tightly around him it almost hurt and he was clinging to the younger man just as tightly. Closing his eyes and letting everything else fall away because nothing else mattered right now. It was just him and Sam.

Sam's arms around him. His brother's head on his shoulder, his breath in his ear. His brother's warmth soaking into him, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it against his chest. His brother's smell just like he remembered, filling his senses.

He was finally home.

Unfortunately, as much as he might have wished it, they couldn't stay like this forever because the world unfortunately kept turning around them and they were not alone. So they pulled apart, almost at the same time, though neither of them seemed able to look away from the other at least until the woman at the door spoke. Asking if they were 'together'.

The question had Dean doing a double take. Not because of the question really, he'd lost count how many people had assumed they were gay, hell, practically every time they got a motel room. But this was the first time since…

He was glad that Sam was able to answer that because Dean was having a hard enough time fighting down a blush he really didn't want to have to explain to Bobby of all people. Trying not to think about how he and Sam had been 'together' as he looked between Sam and… the scantly clad chic that his brother had been shacking up with. As if realizing for the first time what it meant. Feeling his stomach twist a little with that knowledge, he covered up his grimace with his patented shit eating grin as his brother proceeded to show the 'lady' out.

Dean stood over by the window next to Bobby while they waited for the woman to leave, and the more his mind worked the darker his thoughts got. He couldn't possibly be… jealous. It's not that he expected his brother to remain chaste after he went to hell, after all but… and following right on that train of thought was the possible reasons why, or more accurately how, he'd busted out of the pit and his stomach twisted more. Sure Sam had seemed surprised to see him, but that didn't mean he still hadn't done something stupid to bring him back. Like make a deal. Or worse… Hell, maybe it was just so fucking out there Sam had been so surprised because he never expected it to work.

To say the least Dean wasn't in a very 'happy' place when his brother finally joined him and Bobby, pulling his socks and shoes on as he finished dressing. Dean hated the feelings of fear and uncertainty that were coiling around inside of him like snakes. Ruining what should have been a happy reunion, but he couldn't stop thinking about what his life might have cost… and finally he couldn't stop himself from blurting out almost those exact words.

"So tell me, what did it cost?"

[Guest_aot_predestined_*]

Closing the door behind Ruby had been a massive relief moment for Sam. She left, with no seemingly indication that she was anything other than some cheap hook-up. That, Dean would understand. That, Dean could relate to. That wouldn't cause Dean to ask questions. Knowing that it was Ruby, recently body-swapped, would bring up a world of questions. And he really couldn't have any more questions right now.

How was he back? How could this be possible? Could he be sure that Bobby had verified Dean's existence?

Okay. At least with that last question he knew the answer. Bobby was the most knowledgeable hunter he knew; and as such, he knew he would have made sure every test he could think of to verify Dean's reality would have been done. It was really him.

His eyes turned away from the door back to Bobby and Dean. Bobby -- probably the reason he wasn't clutching at Dean and begging him to never leave him again. The reason he was keeping at least a bit of his masculinity for himself, after all, neither Dean nor Bobby would appreciate him throwing his emotions out on the floor like a woman. But that's what he had wanted to do. That's what his instincts had been to do.

But he was in an awkward place, holding up this facade with Bobby in the room, while all the while not wanting to let Dean know how completely miserable he had been without him. The weight of the amulet, that he had tucked under his shirt, weighed on him for the first time. The constant reminder that Dean had been gone. But he wasn't gone anymore. He was here. And what did that mean...for them?

He took a seat at the bed and awkwardly fumbled with his shoes, trying to fill his activities with something other than an overly obvious need to reach out to his brother.

"So tell me, what did it cost?"

He blinked deliberately, taking in the question. Good, he thought after a few moments, Dean clearly still thought the girl was...just a girl. Keep it that way. In the brief second before responding, he felt a flash of guilt. He was lying to Dean. But...he...had to...and too many thoughts and feelings and emotions were going on right now. Take them one at a time, and right now, he can't handle telling Dean the truth.

He plastered on a casual look across his face, one that did not read -- Oh hi, I'm seeing my dead brother for the first time in months -- and said, "The girl?" Pause. "I don't pay Dean."

Whether it was inappropriate joking, whether it was a mood lightener, or whether it was nothing more than nervous ramblings, he hoped that it could be over. All talk about the girl...about Ruby. Because he was guessing that she was walking out of the hotel lobby right now, pissed the hell off. And he didn't want to have the only two people who were constants in his life angry at him. Constant. He looked Dean up and down, trying to hide his intentions. Dean was back. He was constant again. His constant.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean didn’t appreciate the joke. Not in the least.

Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about how his own deal had played out. What it had cost him, them, to bring Sam back. One year. Just one year. The countdown hanging over his head from the second he’d sealed the bargain with that damn kiss.

Every day. Every hour. Every minute. Every second… bringing him closer to hell. All that time frantically helping Sam search for a way to break the contract, without killing his brother in the process due to the fine print. Finally going after the demon bitch herself, going in guns blazing and getting their asses handed to them. The hellhound ripping him to shreds, dragging him down to the pit…

Now he had to watch the same thing all over again? Except it wasn’t his head on the chopping block anymore, it was Sam’s?

“Not funny, Sam. To bring me back. What did it cost?” Dean clarified, unnecessarily in his opinion.

Fuck. He didn’t want to do this now. Not when all he really wanted was to go back to that moment they’d had their arms around each other, holding on tight, and nothing else in the world had mattered except that they were together again. He wasn’t even sure he could handle hearing his brother’s answer right now without something breaking inside of him. But at the same time he just couldn’t stop thinking about it. Imagining having to watch helplessly as his brother was ripped apart by hellhounds…

He had to know.

“Was it just your soul, or was it something worse?” Because they were Winchesters, and it could always be something worse…

[Guest_aot_predestined_*]

"You think I made a deal?" Sam was getting annoyed. Why couldn't they just let bygones be bygones and celebrate with a festive round of...alcohol fueled petting followed by awkward silence for a few days.

"That's exactly what we think," Bobby answered. Sam looked between the two men, both of their arms crossed in a defiant, almost angry pose. What the hell? Isn't this a time for celebration? They were acting as if it was the end of the world -- again.

And that's when his big brother's voice filled his ears with words that immediately set his soul on fire, as if his libido exploded in his chest. A growl, an angry insistent, take-charge growl.

Don't lie to me.

The words had surprised him. He didn't think Dean would want to know.

'Why are you pushing this issue Dean? It doesn't matter. You're still dying in a few weeks. No, I don't...feel that way.'

'Don't lie to me,' he repeated, his eyes staring into Sam's like he could unlock every secret he had. And more. And that's how one of the conversations went, just weeks before Dean's death, when he and his brother had explored uncharted territory in directions he never thought possible.

The last time he had heard those words...memories made it hard for him to focus..."I'm not lying," he said, trying to look confident. Trying to look honest. Trying not to let his facade crack and all the secrets to spill out on the floor. Because the fact was, he was lying. About everything. Lying to himself that he hadn't fallen on the ground, his hands wrapped around Dean's waist, sobbing like a child that he was back. Lying about Ruby. Lying about all that had happened. The regrets, the mistakes, the powers, the abilities. The progression.

He only hoped that being in Hell for four months had clouded Dean's judgment. Because before it happened? Dean could tell. He could stare right at him, with those same green eyes, and just know.

Know it all.

[Ithiel Dragon]

Dean’s eyes narrowed dangerously when the younger man denied making a deal. He had to be lying… he just had to be. He knew his brother better than anyone. Knew all his tells, and he could tell Sam was lying to him now.

“So what now I’m off the hook now and you’re on, is that it? You’re some demon’s bitch boy? I didn’t want to be saved like this.” He all but growled, his voice raising a little with every word. Growing more angry with every word he spoke.

Then suddenly Sam was in his face, literally lying right to his face, and something snapped inside of him as he grabbed his brother by the front of the shirt angrily. Even as being so close like this made him think about a different time he’d held his brother like this. A different kind of heat sparking between them. Though the image of him crushing his mouth passionately against the younger man’s suddenly superimposed itself over one of him holding Sam’s bloody corpse.

He couldn’t go through that again…

“There’s only one way this could have gone down, now tell the truth!” He yelled, fear eating away at him as he shook his brother roughly as though he was ready to beat the truth out of him if he had to. But then Sam was shoving him away, admitting how he’d tried to make a deal, but how no demon would bargain. How he’d tried to open the devils gate, risking letting hundreds more demons loose in the world just to free him. But nothing had worked… and every word his brother spoke Dean felt his anger draining away, being replaced by a cold numb feeling when Sam apologized…

“It’s ok Sammy.” Dean whispered, swallowing hard, suddenly not able to look at his brother. He should be relieved that Sam hadn’t been able to make a deal, and he was. But…. “ You don’t have to apologize, I believe you…” and he did. That wasn’t the problem anymore.

Nothing was said by any of them for a few moments. The silence weighing heavy, finally broken by Bobby.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m gladdened that Sam’s soul remains intact. But it does raise a sticky question.” The older man said, and Dean wanted to laugh. A sticky question, yeah, understatement of the year Bobby.

“If you didn’t pull me out then what did?” Dean finally voiced the question he knew they were all thinking.