Soul's Weight - Chapter 2
Masterpost ~ Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Dean awakens in the Cage, and groans at the familiarity, it is a whole lot like the Hell he experienced before, he can feel his body, but it isn’t exactly the same as being a living human being Topside. Reality in Hell is more fluid, more open to interpretation and right now his senses tell him he is alone in his own body, Michael is no longer in there with him, and all he can see is an indistinct grayish white glow at the edges of the seemingly infinite horizon. He stands up slowly and turns around to see if there is anything else, and there he is, his brother is collapsed in a heap, not too far away. Dean runs to him and crouches over his body, shaking him awake.
“Sammy, wake up, are you okay?” Sam groans and opens his eyes slowly, and smiles when he sees it’s just his brother waking him up. Then he remembers where he is and his eyes fly open into wide panic, “Dean, are we there?”
“Yeah, guess this is the Cage. Michael’s not on board any more, how about you?”
“No Lucifer as far as I can tell. That’s a good thing I guess.” Sam stands up with Dean’s help as they loosely hold each other’s shoulders, not wanting to lose physical contact in this strange place.
Dean looks up at Sam, trying unsuccessfully to put on a hopeful expression, “Maybe in here they don’t need vessels.”
“You’re right, We don’t need you in here.” Lucifer’s snarky, wheedling voice booms out behind them.
Sam and Dean whirl around to see where the voice is coming from, Dean of course can’t stop himself before he demands, “Fine, then let us out.”
Lucifer and Michael laugh mercilessly, both appearing in their former incarnated vessels, their handsome young father that Dean and Sam met in the past and the blonde man Dean unsuccessfully shot in Carthage with the Colt. “That is not something that is up to us. You avoided your destiny so this must be the result.” Michael intones with a ringing finality.
The angels disappear, which doesn’t mean that they’re gone, just not visible to Dean and Sam. They sit down together, leaning against each other for support, “Dean is this anything like how Hell was for you?”
“No, except for the way my body feels there but not really there, it’s different in just about every other way possible. At least we’re not all beat up from that fight.”
Sam keeps looking around in all directions, “Do you think they’re really gone, or are they just not visible?”
“Oh I’m guessing they’re here, where else can they go right? But looks like we’re lucky, we get a break from the angel monologuing for a while, those dicks are worse than demons, I swear.” Dean moves closer to Sam so that their hips and thighs touch, hoping that it helps Sam feel safer, he can tell he’s starting to get closer to the edge of freaking out.
Sam smiles over at Dean, and puts an arm around him, squeezing his shoulders gently, thanking him for his words and the physical closeness, “Guess that’s something. Hey Dean, listen for a second, just in case something happens, I have to say this. Thank you for coming for me in the cemetery. You didn’t have to do that. But I’m really glad that you did. I don’t know if I could have actually done it without you being there.”
At first Dean can’t answer, stuck in thinking to himself about his panicked drive to Stull, that need to just be there with Sam at the end, no matter what happened, the imperative chant that’d taken over his body gettoSamgettoSamgettoSam, “Of course I came Sammy, what the hell else was I supposed to do, just give up? Us against them all, right? I’m not happy that I’m stuck in here, but I’m glad that you’re not in here alone at least.” Dean grins up at him, and returns the shoulder squeeze, hoping that Sam gets it, that he’s not ever abandoning him, there’s no other choice for him to make.
“You think Cas and Bobby are working on how to get us out somehow?” Sam notices that they aren’t letting go of each other’s shoulders, still holding each other pretty close. He knows he sure doesn’t want to let go in this strange place so he doesn’t mention it, since Dean’s probably feeling the same way but would never admit it.
“Probably, but I doubt there’s any way to open up the Cage without letting the angels out. I hope they leave us in here, I don’t think they be stupid enough to take that risk.”
“I would’ve if it was you stuck in here.” Sam answers quietly, knowing that his brother won’t want to hear this.
Dean rolls his eyes and huffs, “Yeah me too, probably a good thing we’re both in here, huh?”
“But Dean you promised me you wouldn’t if I jumped, you promised you wouldn’t try to get me out!”
“I know I did, but c’mon Sam, you know there’s no way I wouldn’t have tried anything and everything to get you out. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything else. You know that right?”
“Yeah, I guess I just hoped you’d let me go and try to live a life somehow with Lisa and Ben like you promised me you would.”
“I’m sorry that I promised you that, I shouldn’t have. That Lisa and Ben thing was just kind of a daydream, a fantasy really, I couldn’t ever just stop being a hunter, it wouldn’t have been right to take the risk involving a family in all this crap.”
“But I saw it in your dream Dean, when we drank that dream root crap. I saw you and Lisa together, talking about Ben. You looked so happy, I guess I just wanted you to have a chance to have all that.”
“Sammy, that wasn’t ever what I really wanted, it was just one of a million possible random dreams of mine that you could have ended up in, it’s not like it was ever my deepest wish or something I swear. It could have been strippers or those twins from Des Moines, remember them?”
“Ugh, how could I ever forget? You told me that story so damn many times, and the brain bleach never worked.”
“I’m not apologizing, you needed to be educated on that stuff, it was my duty as a big brother.”
“Oh that’s what you were doing, I see now. Well now we have nothing but time, I guess I get to hear all your stories over and over again. Promise me you’ll make up some new ones?”
“I’ll work on it. Sam, it’s gonna be hard to stay sane in here, it’s so blank, like there’s nothing. At least in Hell there was stuff to look at or focus on, no matter how awful it was.”
“We’ll just have to keep each other entertained somehow, wish I’d brought some cards.”
“Oh do not worry about that, we will find plenty to keep you occupied.” Michael’s voice reverberates as if it is coming from everywhere all at once but they still can’t see him. “We have decided that we will keep you apart for a time and see what will work.”
“No! Please don’t! Dean hold on, hold on to me, don’t let go, don’t leave me!”
“Sam, I can’t, can’t hold on. Sam!” Dean’s voice is cut off abruptly as he is pulled away by invisible hands and then winks out of existence as soon as he’s not in contact with Sam. But Sam can hear Dean screaming in pain, after a while it switches to screams of absolute terror which cut off abruptly, leaving only a vibrating silence. “Dean! I’m here!” Sam shouts over and over until he’s hoarse, he hopes that Dean can hear him wherever he is.
Dean suddenly reappears just after Sam’s completely out of any voice left to keep shouting. He’s in a crumpled heap behind Sam panting and breathing noisily. Sam whirls around and passes his hands over his brother’s whole body, checking him for injuries, it’s just blood everywhere, but no visible injuries he can find. “Oh God, no, you can’t be, Dean are you alright?” Dean just groans when Sam cradles him in his arms. They stay like that for a while, but Sam’s legs fall asleep from the strange position he landed in, he goes to rearrange them and Dean stirs back to consciousness, grabbing tightly onto Sam’s arms. “Sammy, you’re here. Thought you were gone. Saw them kill you.”
“No Dean, I’m here, nothing happened to me. You disappeared and I heard you screaming, then you reappeared. Whose blood is all this, if you’re not hurt?”
“Yours, they ripped you apart in front of me Sam. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t, I just couldn’t stop them.”
“Oh God, Dean, that’s…” and Sam doesn’t finish because now it’s his turn to disappear. Dean falls to the floor without Sam’s support. Dean can hear him screaming endlessly and can’t do anything but shout in frustration, knowing that they’re probably doing the same damned thing to Sam. All he can do is yell as loudly as possible, hoping that Sam will hear him, “Sam, it’s not real, I’m okay! God damnit Michael stop it, leave him the fuck alone!”
Michael’s voice reverberates from everywhere and nowhere, in that flat, unreadable, yet harsh tone Dean’s heard before, “That’s not how it works Dean. You’re both in here with us, and we’ve got nothing better to do with our time. Lucifer is more creative than I’d remembered. Excuse me I have to get back to Sam.”
Dean begs, shouting in desperation, “No! Come back, take me instead!”
Lucifer’s disembodied voice answers this time in a teasing tone, “Dean you’ll get your turn again, be patient.”
Sam’s screams eventually stop, and then he reappears, blood-covered just as Dean was. Dean rushes to his side and realizes that this is just the beginning for them, Lucifer and Michael will spend the rest of eternity tearing them apart. “Sam, Sammy c’mon, you gotta come back to me.” He begs his brother as he holds his unmoving bloody body in his arms.
“Yeah, I’m here Dean.” Sam barely manages to gasp, not yet opening his eyes.
Dean runs his hands up and down Sam’s body, just as their father’s training ingrained in him, it’s a reflex, comforting in its automatic thoughtlessness, he pats Sam’s cheek gently, “Hey, look at me. Whose blood is it Sam?”
Sam opens his eyes reluctantly, “Yours. It’s yours Dean. They did the same thing to me that they did to you. This isn’t going to stop is it?”
“Don’t think so, it’s just starting, we’re just going to have to get through. I would have thought being stuck with angels in Hell wouldn’t have been as bad as being with Alastair. I swear they’re worse than all the damn demons put together. We’ll just have to hang in there together.” Dean pulls Sam in closer, disregarding the stickiness and the coppery metallic smell of the blood.
“I can, if you can.” Sam bravely teases and smiles up at Dean, but doesn’t feel even close to as brave as he sounds. False bravery may be the only thing they have in here. Fake it ‘til you make it and all that.
“It’s a deal.” Dean answers, knowing that they’re lying to each other about the possibility of getting through all this, but what else can they do really, not like there are any escape plans to be made. That’s the whole point of the Cage after all, a place made expressly to hold one of the most powerful beings they’ve ever encountered.
They fall asleep for awhile, still wrapped up together, legs entwined, arms holding each other close. It isn’t a peaceful sleep, but it’s at least some rest. Then Dean disappears again, and the whole cycle starts all over. They lose track of how many times and how many different ways the angels rip them apart and put them back together again, the torture is endless and becomes almost mundane, boring in a way. Whenever they’re left together they hold on to each other tightly for comfort, it’s all they have in the nothing world of the Cage. No hunger, no thirst, only pain, separation and brief times when they’re wrapped up together as closely as possible.
Michael appears standing over them “We’re doing something different this time, Lucifer and I are bored, you two won’t fall apart the way we want. Perhaps this will work.” He leans down and touches the center of both of their foreheads and a purplish light glows from the spot where his fingertips touch their skin.
The purple light grows brighter and more solid looking until it joins together in-between them forming a twisting writhing conduit. All of a sudden Dean can feel himself moving out of his mind and into another’s, it must be Sam’s, because all he can see is himself, everywhere he looks, the greatest hits of his life as seen through his little brother’s eyes. Dean can see himself looming large even as an eight year old, scooping a little Sammy up and swinging him around in the bright sunlight. He can see himself a little older, treading water in a crappy motel swimming pool, waving his hand and encouraging Sammy to jump in and learn to swim. He sees himself a little older still grinning down and holding Sam close as they light fireworks in a darkened field.
Then the visions change, colored by an older boy’s perception of his big brother as something more than just a brother. The visions are tinted with an unrequited desire, small observances of an older teenage Dean getting dressed, his body so strong and beautiful, or tinted with jealousy when he sees how he looks coming in from a night out, lips kiss-bitten-swollen, hair mussed and eyes glowing. Over and over again, getting stronger and stronger, Sam’s desire for his brother practically becoming another character in their story together until the night Sam leaves for Stanford, and then the visions become grayed over, nothing seems as vivid or important, a few flashes where Jess almost reaches a similar level of clarity, but until that night when he’d broken into Sam’s apartment, none of the visions of Sam’s memories that flash through seem to matter as much.
As soon as Sam’s memories include Dean once again the brightness returns, even through the searing pain of losing Jess in such a horrific manner, that bright knowing vision of seeing his brother as the most desirable person in the world is how Sam’s been seeing the world all these years as they’ve traveled together. The visions continue up until the cemetery in Stull, where he had held Sam and told him he loved him before they jumped together, and the way that memory looks, even though Lucifer had been in Sam’s mind at the time, that vision of himself telling Sam he loved him is the most beautiful thing he’s seen out of all of it, out of Sam’s whole life.
“Is that the only time I’ve ever told Sam that I love him?” Dean’s asking himself incredulously, how could that possibly be true? And did Sam just see the same thing from me? He must have because all of it, that’s how I’ve felt all these years. How is it possible they’ve kept it from each other all this time. All these questions go unanswered though as Dean gasps when the purple light abruptly winks out and falls back hitting the ground, still tangled up with Sam.
They turn to look at each other at the same time, their eyes widening as they realize what they’ve just seen, wondering if the other had seen the same thing, terrified at what the other will think or do or say. And then there isn’t that chance, not even a chance to avoid thinking or doing or saying anything because Dean is suddenly gone.
Just gone from Sam’s arms.
And Sam’s alone with Michael standing there looking down at him with actual surprise on the angel’s chiseled face. “Where’d you take him? Bring him back right now!” Sam demands.
“I did not take him anywhere, and neither did Lucifer. Dean is no longer in here with us.”
“What do you mean? He’s just gone? Where the fuck is he?”
“I do not know.” Michael blinks out of Sam’s vision, and now Sam is utterly alone in the nothingness of the Cage. Left to deal with the loss of his brother’s presence and the overwhelming glimpse of the inside of his brother’s mind, knowing that Dean had the exact same look inside his. Seeing all the fears, resentments and endless wanting love that Dean has for him, punches through him and warps his sense of reality even further. Now that Dean is gone, it is all he has. But really all he has is the regret and the wonder at how they have felt this way about each other all this time and kept it hidden.
Sam isn’t sure if this is the worst torment the angels have come up with yet. Could they have manufactured all that somehow? Is it even a little bit true? And he can’t even ask Dean because he’s not there anymore. He lets himself hope that Dean is really, truly out of the Cage somehow. Hoping that Dean is out, and maybe alive, on Earth and living a life tortures Sam so much to even entertain that it is true, that it is possible, that he almost loses all sense of his self.
Sam’s never felt so alone in his whole life.
Dean awakens in the Impala, feeling like he’s been run over by a tank, slowly opening his eyes and seeing the familiar heaps of cars in Bobby’s yard. It seems to be early morning, by the light, and the fog, and even though he’s a little dizzy, he manages to make it up the back steps into the kitchen, calling out, “Hey Bobby, you here?”
“Jumping Jack Christ, it worked!” Bobby practically tackles him with a hug, Dean still unsteady on his feet.
“Whoa, whoa, what worked? What’s going on? Where’s Sam? He in here somewhere?”
“Cas got you out Dean, he did it!” Bobby can’t contain his whoop of joy at seeing Dean whole and alive and he hopes Dean won’t ask about Sam again for a while, let him enjoy it for a second at least.
“That’s great, but where the hell is Sam?” Dean demands, pulling out of Bobby's hug and stepping back.
“Still there.” Bobby answers him, looking to see if the reaction will be as bad as he expects.
“Still where, The Cage?” Dean asks in a hollow voice that betrays that yes it’s that bad, maybe worse.
“Thought you’d be happy to be out Dean.” Bobby answers with that useless hope that he's stubbornly held onto that Dean would ever value himself highly enough.
“I am, don’t get me wrong, I am, but Sam’s there, without me, and Bobby, he won’t be okay if I’m not there.” Dean protests desperately.
“Don’t worry Dean, we’ve got a plan.” Bobby tries to placate him.
A fluttering whoosh of wings is heard and some papers blow off the kitchen table. “Dean, you are here.”
Dean punches Cas in the chin, immediately shaking his hand out “Shit I always forget. God Damn you Cas!”
“Dean, are you not happy? I got you out.” Cas asks, tilting his head slightly in confusion.
“Cas you left him there! How could you do that? Sam’s still there.” Dean’s furious, how can Cas not know that this is the important thing, the only thing that matters to him.
“I know Dean, I was made to choose.”
“You chose to get me out instead of Sam?” Dean paces back and forth in front of Cas, feeling unhinged in his anger.
“Yes Dean, of course I did.”
“Why? You know I can’t, can’t do, can’t be, why Cas?” Dean begs, sounding as broken to himself as he can ever remember. And he is, he knows he is broken, useless without Sam, and knowing where Sam is, that he's all alone makes it about a million times worse.
“Because I knew you could do the next part of what’s required. I was not as sure of it with Sam.”
“What next part?” Dean stops in front of Cas and throws up his hands dramatically, not getting what the hell he’s talking about.
“You’ve got to find God.”
“Haven’t you already tried that?” Dean rolls his eyes, Cas has got to be kidding with this right?
“Yes, I have, but you have not. I am told that it will work if you have the right tool. Where is the amulet?”
“What the one I used to wear, that you borrowed when you were on your God Hunt?” Dean unconsciously feels his chest where the amulet used to always be.
“Yes, that is the one.”
“I thought it didn’t work, that’s what you said.”
“I have new information, that it didn’t work, because it was made only for a human to use.”
“I don’t have it. I threw it away that day when you gave it back to me.” Dean turns away, his shoulders falling in defeat. He can’t face them, can’t tell them about one of the things he regrets doing more than anything else in his whole life.
“You what?!” Cas and Bobby both yell in unison.
Dean still can’t turn around and face them and speaks quietly, head bowed, “I know, it wasn’t smart, but yeah, I threw it away, I lost faith in me and in Sam after being in Heaven and seeing what we saw there, and Joshua told us that God told us to stop looking for him, that he wasn’t going to help us and then you’d given up on finding God too Cas, and I just tossed it.”
“Did Sam see you throw it away Dean?” Bobby pulls Dean’s shoulder, turning him around roughly, demanding an answer through gritted teeth.
“Probably. We never talked about it, why?” Dean shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, and utterly failing. Bobby seeing right through him as usual.
“Dean, you know that probably just about broke his heart right?” Bobby asks sadly.
“Yeah, I know, you don’t need to rub it in. Not much I can do about it now though is there?” Dean finally looks at Bobby, pleading with his eyes to stop talking about this, it’s hurting too much to even think about it.
“Sam wouldn’t have left it there Dean. It meant too much to him.” Bobby pats Dean’s shoulder and softens his voice, seeing how much this is tearing Dean up just thinking about it, he sighs, imagining how busted-up Sam must have been.
“What, you think he’d have picked it up?” Dean looks at Bobby with a spark of hope.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping. And if he did, where would he have put it?”
Dean thinks about it for just a second, there aren’t many hiding places Sam would have had, “His duffel bag, or in the Impala, either of those places.”
“Guess we’ve got some searching to do. First, let me fix you something to eat.” Bobby moves over to the counter and starts rustling around finding some food for Dean.
“Okay, that sounds good, I’m starving now that I think about it, thanks Bobby.” Dean then turns to Cas, looking at him with a silent question.
“I cannot assist you Dean. This amulet is not visible to me for some reason. Here are the horseman rings though, I picked them up on the way out of the Cage, they may come to be useful again at some point. Call for me when you have located the amulet.” He places the rings in Dean’s hand, nods and then with a whooshing wing sound and plates rattling, Cas disappears. Bobby and Dean roll their eyes at each other, each of them knowing they’re thinking the same thing, that they’ll never get used to Cas’ abrupt manner of exiting.
After breakfast, where Bobby pointedly doesn’t ask him how his stay in the Cage was, instead he tells him about how Adam is doing and where he’s living now, Dean takes the stairs up to their room, the one that Sam and he always stay in when they’re at Bobby’s. Their duffels are there, one on each bed, like Bobby was just expecting them to turn up at any moment. He smiles to himself thinking of Bobby holding out hope like that. He approaches Sam’s gingerly, and opens it slowly,
A faint scent of Sam rises from it as he starts to rustle around stirring up the neatly folded clothes, even the dirty clothes are folded neatly for chrissakes. He unfolds everything, checking all the pockets, feeling for hidden places that Sam might have made in the duffle to hide something in. His fingers touch a rubbery feeling cylinder and he pulls it out, but nope, not a hairbrush as he’d thought, but instead a rather alarmingly large black dildo. Dean can’t help himself saying out loud in his leering teasing voice that hadn’t been used in a long time, “Sammy I had no idea you were into that sort of thing.”
But no amulet that he can find anywhere in the bag.
He tries to hold back the tears that he can feel building up, that everything Sam ever had is right here in this one bag, which just seems so colossally unfair, and Sam’s not even here to bitch at him about going through it. He’s not ever going to be unless they can find the amulet and find God. He suddenly feels so far away from Sam, so he gives in and takes off his shirts, replacing them with one of Sam’s tees. He stands up and takes off his jeans and boxers and pulls on a pair of Sam’s faded black knit boxers. The scent memory of Sam assaults him then, he’s surrounded by it. All he can do is let himself sink down into the pile of Sam-scented clothes and breathes it in as he cries, missing his brother, grieving the loss more now that he knows what they could have been to each other, desperately mourning the fact that he’d ever given up and thrown the damn amulet away in the first place. Finally the tears stop as he talks himself into trying, they haven’t looked everywhere. He can’t give up yet.
Dean repacks the duffel, pulls his jeans and over shirt back on, washes his face off in the bathroom and comes back downstairs slowly and finds Bobby at his desk, “Not in the bag, guess the car is next, you helping or what?”
They spend the day tearing apart the Impala, going through every last hidey-hole and secret compartment. It hasn’t been this cleaned out and empty in a long time, not since when Dean was rebuilding her after the semi-truck accident. It’s almost full dark when Dean’s done in the back seat, as he’s getting out he spots the plastic army man wedged in the ashtray and touches it thinking about how it had been the trigger to stop Michael and Lucifer. He starts to tear up, the weight of the worry about what’s happening to his brother hitting him hard. Dean touches the army man and whispers “Don’t give up Sammy, please.”
Dean wipes his eyes and takes a deep breath before unfolding himself from the back seat, “Don’t think it’s in here Bobby.”
“Yeah, that woulda been just too damned easy. Guess we’ll have to use other means to find the damned thing, I’ll go start up a list of possible names for you to go check out.” Bobby hauls himself up off the workbench stool and goes back through the yard and into his house.
Dean stays outside to tidy up and get the car ready to leave in the morning. When he’s all done, with a bag of trash from the Impala to throw into the big bin, and almost a load of laundry’s worth of clothes dug out of various spots in the car he heads out into the open yard and looks up into the clear, starry sky. There’s nothing that reminds him more of Sam than looking up at the stars at night. He turns around and gets up onto the hood of the Impala, lying back on the windshield in the usual position.
It doesn’t feel right being there without Sam, but he still feels closer to him, can almost hear him pointing out the various constellations and telling their stories for the millionth time, can practically feel Sam’s big warm shoulder braced against his.
“I’m not giving up Sam. Not ever, you hear me? I’m gonna get you out.” He yells into the empty yard, feeling instantly foolish. Of course Sam can’t hear him, but Dean means it, he’s not giving up, not when there’s still any chance of getting Sam out.
Chapter 3