Soul's Weight - Chapter 3
Masterpost ~ Chapter 2
Chapter 3
It’s been months of searching now. Bobby’s called every one of his contacts to see if the amulet has happened to turn up anywhere. Dean’s made so many trips to check out possible leads he’s starting to lose track. A couple of psychics that were supposed to be good at finding lost objects, one in Philly and one all the way in Seattle, a hoodoo woman near New Orleans who was renowned for being able to find the object of your desire, all bust, no help at all. Bobby’s running out of names to suggest, and there’s nothing left in Dad’s journal that’s at all helpful. A rising sense of panic and frustration starts to overwhelm Dean now, knowing that his brother is stuck in the Cage without him, and that Lucifer and Michael must be even angrier that he escaped somehow.
Dean tries not to think about it, that those angel dicks are taking their frustrations out on Sam. But it’s inevitable that he replays everything the angels had done to both of them while he was there in the Cage. And it must be even worse, because Dean’s not there but Sam is, alone. Sam’s been in Hell longer than Dean had been at this point, and Dean won’t let himself think about his brother breaking down and giving in like he did. There’s no way he’s letting himself think that Sam would pick up the knife and start torturing or if they’re even offering that as an option for him to choose. Dean hopes with everything he’s still got that Sam can hold out longer than he had been able to. He remembers the solace they were able to give to each other in-between the torture sessions and now Sam doesn’t even have that to rely upon. He’s not there for Sam like he should be. The more time goes by, the more the guilt starts to become a heavier and heavier load for Dean to bear.
The only comfort Dean has is that he can tell that Sam isn’t dead, he’s convinced himself that he would know that, just know it somehow deep inside, like he had after Cold Oak. Of course he’d had Sam’s dead body lying in front of him for proof, but still, he did not feel the same way, an empty cold place in his chest, a tugging, pulling absence was the way he described it to Bobby when he was begging for him to help find some African Dream Root. It’s the only solution he’s been able to come up with after all these months.
The way Dean figures it, since Sam isn’t dead, then he’s still alive and presumably able to dream, since humans can’t live without dreaming. Dean remembers dreaming during his short time in the Cage and his longer time in Hell. The question is whether or not he’ll be able to get past the Cage itself into Sam’s dream world. There isn’t anyone to ask, no rule book on using African Dream Root to enter a human’s dreams who is trapped in a Cage constructed by God to contain an archangel. Unfortunately. So all he has is a glimmering of hope, a twinge that says that it might possibly work.
Bobby finally agrees even though it’s such a gamble to take the stuff, there’s likely a risk of Dean getting trapped again in the Cage, even if just in a dream state, “Dean as connected as you two always were, I wouldn’t count you out for being able to get through to him, alright let’s find some of that crap.”
Dean has to drive around to several of Bobby’s contacts before finding some African Dream Root for sale, but get it he finally does, and then he finds the closest motel room, bringing in both his and Sam’s duffels. He knows that taking the potion truly is a long shot, and a big risk, but it seems at least worth trying. It’s the only thing he can to do to try to save Sam, as far as he’s concerned there isn’t anything else worth doing.
Dean has to make himself go through Sam’s duffel bag again to find his hairbrush, which is one of the hardest things he’s had to do yet. It was difficult enough the first time, he’s embarrassed just remembering crying and breaking down at Bobby’s house, and assures himself that isn’t happening again, there’s too much hope in him right now for that. As he unzips the duffel, an even fainter scent of Sam rises from it this time as he starts to rustle around stirring up the neatly folded clothes. Months and months have gone by and that Sam smell is almost gone. He touches the rubbery dildo again and smiles to himself picturing Sam using it. He reaches back in and finds the hairbrush which sure enough has long strands of Sam’s brown hair wound through the bristles.
Teasing out enough hair into the palm of his hand he picks up the cup with the dream root concoction, gets comfortable on the edge of the bed and adds Sam’s long brown hair to the cup. It sizzles a little and then there’s nothing for it left to do but drink, so he does. The taste is as vile as he remembered, and he suddenly finds himself falling through a staticky barrier backwards for a long while until he lands on the bed , body still buzzing and sizzling all the way through.
Sitting up and looking around he wonders why it didn’t work, but then he notices the differences. It seems to be a slightly different motel room, this looks more like the last one he and Sam had stayed in, the night before Detroit, all that time ago. And the bathroom door is closed, he can hear the water running and see a strip of light coming from underneath. His hopes rise as the water clunks off and he can hear someone moving around.
The door opens suddenly and a completely naked Sam walks out. “Oh, I didn’t know you were here, sorry.” Sam gulps in surprised embarrassment and shoots back into the bathroom to grab a towel coming back out as he wraps it around his waist.
“I wasn’t here.” Dean says as matter-of-factly as he can manage after seeing his brother in all his naked glory. “This is your dream, and I came to visit, used African Dream Root to get here. Hi Sam.”
“Dean, it can’t be you! I’m in Hell in the Cage right?”
“Yeah, as far as I know that’s where you are. But you’re still alive enough to be dreaming so here I am.”
Sam doesn’t know what to say, he’s embarrassed that Dean’s in his subconscious dreaming mind, with all the un-tethered thoughts running around, who knows what he’ll see. But all of that is overwhelmed by the fact that it’s Dean and he’s here and he’s missed him so much he almost couldn’t feel anything anymore. “You’re here, I can’t believe it’s really you.” Sam crosses to him and pulls Dean in close, hugging him hard and rough and desperate, who knows how long Dean will really be here. Or how long before Michael and Lucifer figure it out and get rid of him by waking Sam up.
Dean looks up at Sam, who isn’t letting him go, not for anything and Dean totally understands, he’d be doing the same damn thing if he was the one stuck in here without Sam, “Sam, uh I’m here for a couple reasons, besides just coming to see you. I need to tell you that it was all true, what Lucifer and Michael showed you about uh, how I feel about you. And I realized that you might not know it since things are so strange here in the Cage.”
Sam looks down into Dean’s eyes, searching to see that truth he’s been hoping for, and yeah there it is, couldn’t be plainer, Dean can’t hide it from him anymore now that he knows where to look, “You were right, I didn’t think it was the truth, thought I’d made it up to make myself have something to feel happy about in here. So thanks for coming here to make sure I knew. And, uh I feel the same way, but you already knew that right?”
Dean smiles his heart-breaking one-sided smile, “I was pretty sure, but not 100%, so uh, good to know.”
Sam hugs Dean close again, moving his hands up and down Dean’s back, almost massaging him “You’re really here with me, really here.”
“Yeah Sam I’m here. Cas could only get one of us out, and he picked me, and Bobby and I have been trying everything we can think of. I’m not giving up, not ever, you gotta hang in there for me.”
“I’ll try Dean, I’ll really try.”
“We’re stuck though, we have another thing to try that Cas actually suggested, but we need the amulet, you know the one I threw away, I know it’s a long shot, but you didn’t happen to dig it out of the trash in that motel room, and keep it did you?”
Sam looks like he’s about to cry, struck with the sudden tearing memory of his brother throwing it away (which had really felt like he was throwing them away), giving up on him like that, “Yeah, of course I did. It’s at Bobby’s”
“I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t let that thing just go, weren’t as stupid as me throwing away something that meant so much. Where at Bobby’s Sam, where is it?”
“You know those owl figures in the living room? I hid it in the one on the right.”
“I’m sorry you know. I can’t really ever say how sorry I am that I did that Sammy. “
“I know Dean, I forgive you.” Sam leans down and presses a light kiss to Dean’s lips, just a kiss of forgiveness, nothing else. Dean closes his eyes and leans into his brother, making a quiet hmmm of happiness accepting the unexpected grace of his brother’s forgiveness.
“Thanks Sammy. This dream root stuff should be wearing off soon. Anything else you want to tell me?”
“Besides get me the fuck out of here? Or to tell you I miss you like breathing? Something like that?”
“Yeah, well right back at you.” Dean leans up and kisses Sam with a question on his lips, “Think it will be like this when you’re out Sammy?” Sam opens his mouth to answer and Dean takes advantage swooping in with his quick agile tongue, wrapping it around Sam’s and pulling off to suck and bite gently at his lower lip.
Sam can barely bring himself around enough to answer through the haze of pleasure and happiness and right-ness of finally getting to kiss his brother, even if it is just in a dream, “Guess we’ll have to see. Hope so. It’s kinda up to us isn’t it?”
“You’re right it is up to us. I don’t know if it’ll help, but hold on to that Sammy, maybe it will help you hang on in here a little longer. This is going to work, I know it. Thinking I’m going now, bye Sam, don’t ever forget that I love you, I’ll see you soon.”
“Bye Dean, I love you too. Thanks.”
Dean winks out, passing back through the static and fuzz and falling upwards this time and is back in his still buzzy feeling body, lying sprawled out on the motel bed with a raging headache and his lips tingling with the memory of his brother’s kiss. He takes a few Advil, drinks a big glass of water and calls Bobby, “yeah it worked, you were right, he kept it, he says it’s in one of those brass owl statues in your living room, the one on the right.”
Dean hears Bobby banging around and a clear metallic ringing sound, then Bobby’s triumphant, “Hah! Got it! You coming back here or what?”
Calculating how long it will take, Dean answers, “I’ll be there in a day and half.”
“I’ll be waiting. Drive careful kid.”
“Thanks Bobby.”
Dean packs up quickly and gets on the road headed towards South Dakota as soon as possible. He listens to Sam’s iPod just to keep that feeling of connection going just a little bit longer. He doesn’t let himself think too much about what went on in Sam’s dream, he can’t, there’s too much to make his head spin and he needs to concentrate on driving. The thing is though, the thing he keeps going back to is a feeling, this ringing sensation that’s going through his whole body, as if he’s a bell that’s been struck just perfectly right. He’s vibrating with right-ness, and it’s all from that kiss in Sam’s dream, as if everything is set right now, and that’s making his hopes rise. Dean smiles to himself and leans back into the Impala’s seats “Get me there quick Baby, we’ve got us a Sammy to find.”
Dean arrives sooner than he’d thought, but it still feels twice as long as it should, the same gottagettoSamgottagettoSam internal chant starting up once again. He pulls up to the familiar crowded yard and is out of the car before the engine’s even fully stopped and is on the porch, hand on the door knob , walking in before the headlights have fully dimmed.
“Bobby, I’m here, where is it?” Dean calls out as he steps into the house, searching the cluttered room for any sign of Bobby.
“’m in here boy, hold your horses.” Bobby hollers from the kitchen.
Dean rounds the corner, feeling so on edge, as if something big is about to happen, which is weird because he’s just here in the same old house he’s spent so much time in. But then there he is, at the sink, turning, smiling gruffly and reaching into his pocket. Bobby holds out the amulet to Dean. Dean’s eyes go wide and he reaches for it quickly, that bell-ringing right-ness going off again as his skin touches the warm metal. He holds it up so he can see the detailed little face he’s missed so much. “uh thanks.”
Bobby’s face warms up and softens as he sees the emotion Dean is trying to hide “No problem, glad we finally found it. Ready to call him?”
“Castiel, we’ve got it, can you come tell us what we’re supposed to do with it now?”
“Hope it doesn’t take him too long, don’t know how long I can really wait after all this.”
“I know, I’m sure he’ll come as soon as he can.” Bobby offers Dean a beer out of the refrigerator and they sit down at the kitchen table to wait. Before they’ve had a chance to even take a sip of beer, the familiar whooshing of wings startles them and Cas stands near the stove.
Without so much as a hello, Castiel launches into his information download about the amulet, “You are supposed to use the amulet to make a Petition of Intercession. It will only work if you are pure of heart and sure of purpose. That was what Joshua told me. It seemed to be the most important thing. Are you pure of heart Dean?”
“How the hell should I know? Is there a test I can take or something? Oh and hello by the way.”
“Usually that just means you’re not lying about why you’re using the object or spell or whatever.” Bobby adds, without rolling his eyes.
“Definitely not lying here, and I’m sure of my purpose, getting Sam the hell out of the Cage and back here with me where he belongs.”
Bobby raises his eyebrows at that last bit but wisely doesn’t say anything. Dean doesn’t notice that his words have maybe been a little bit too honest and revealing. And as usual most of it goes right over Cas’ head.
Castiel looks at Dean intently, no more than usual, “Then the first step is to hold the amulet in your hand and state your reason for wanting to find God. Make it as succinct and clear as possible.”
“How do you think I should put it Bobby?”
“Cas, is this like with demon deals, where the language has to be precise otherwise there’s consequences?” Bobby asks.
“The only consequence is that if the language is unclear, you will not get an answer.” Castiel pronounces.
“No pressure then, okay, here goes nothing.” Dean quickly finishes his beer, stands up, arranges himself, takes in a deep breath, holds the amulet in his right hand and clearly states. “My reason for wanting to find God is to ask him to release my brother Samuel Winchester from Lucifer’s cage.” Dean winces in anticipation of a heavenly lightning bolt or some dramatic touch, but nothing happens. “Did it not work? Wasn’t I clear enough?” Dean asks with no small amount of desperation in his voice.
“Patience Dean, there’s a protocol for asking and answering, there are many layers your message is being passed through and back again. Here it comes.”
A fluttering whoosh, and a new person is standing in Bobby’s living room, a young woman with long brown hair wearing a smart black pantsuit, ignoring the other two, she says straight to Dean, “Dean Winchester, your request has been received, are you prepared for your answer?”
“Cas, am I?” Dean stage whispers loudly to Cas.
“Yes Dean, say yes, quickly.”
“Yes I am prepared for my answer.” Dean says all in a rush.
“God requests your presence at this address on Monday at 2pm, local time.” A fluttering whoosh, and she’s gone, leaving behind a small printed card in Dean’s surprised grasp.
“What’s it say Dean?” ask Bobby, wondering what all the quick in and out of the messenger angel could mean.
“It’s an address in Santa Barbara, California.” Dean says flatly.
Bobby raises his eyebrows in surprise, “Guess you’ve got some driving to do, what’ll it take, a day or two?”
Dean looks up at him, asking with a plea in his voice, “You’re not coming?”
Bobby shakes his head and smiles at Dean, “Don’t think I’m invited, right Cas?”
Castiel nods in agreement, “You are correct, only Dean, as he was the one to make the request.”
“Awesome.” Dean groans sarcastically.
“You are not pleased? Dean, you have been granted an audience with God.”
“Shit, is that what she meant? I thought it was a, well, I don’t know what I thought. Bobby, what the hell am I doing?”
“What you boys always do for each other, anything and everything possible or impossible to save each other.”
Dean rubs the back of his neck and says sheepishly, “Guess we do that a lot.”
Bobby gives Dean a patient smile, “Yeah you do, sometimes it’s pretty damn entertaining, but a lot of times it just gives me heartburn.”
“Sorry ‘bout that Bobby, but you know how it is with me and Sam. It’s my job taking care of him.”
“That too I guess.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Dean, I know he’s your brother and your responsibility, but I ain’t blind. Any fool can see you two love each other way past what’s normal. Of course you’re going to do this, what else can you do, he’d do the same damn fool thing. Just be careful, wouldja?”
Dean’s not sure how to respond at first, Bobby stating everything so plainly like that, he’s unsure of what exactly Bobby’s seen to make him think they’re more than normal brothers. He decides to be honest, pure of heart even, “Yeah, you’re right Bobby, and I’ll be as careful as I can.”
Bobby grins, proud as any father could be “You do that, and you call me soon as you know anything.”
“Will do.”
“Dean, tell Sam something for me, I no longer consider him an Abomination.” Castiel adds abruptly.
“Uh, okay Cas, sure. Any advice on meeting God? Is there some protocol or anything I have to do special?”
“No Dean, the only thing you must do is to speak truthfully, He’ll know otherwise, and it will not help make your case.” Cas looks somewhat wistful, he was looking for God for quite a long time, and now it is Dean instead who will be finding Him after all.
“I’ll tell Him hi from you, ‘kay Cas?”
“Thank you Dean.” Cas nods almost imperceptibly and then disappears in a whoosh of feathers.
“I will never get used to that as long as I live.” Dean grumbles.
“So. you leaving right away?”
“Yeah, I want to get as far towards Salt Lake City by tonight as I can. Thanks for everything Bobby, I’ll let you know what happens one way or the other.”
Bobby clasps Dean on the shoulder, “I have a good feeling about this Dean, I’ll see you and Sam soon.”
Dean loads up quickly and takes off in the Impala, amulet safely tucked in his pocket. He’s not wearing it, it doesn’t seem right somehow, but he’s not letting go of it either. The trip seems to go by faster than he would have thought, and all of a sudden he’s crossing from Nevada into California just after passing through a quiet morning Vegas. Not far now, maybe five hours and he’s still got a couple days until he really needs to be there.
It’s strange being in California again, after so many years of avoiding it so completely. He remembers all those trips to monitor how Sam was doing at Stanford, bitter taste of defeat and rejection coloring everything. There’s so much beauty here, he recognizes as he drives through the edge of the Mojave Desert, and he’s cut himself off from it so he wouldn’t have to revisit those deeply buried feelings. He and Sam built something for themselves, over the ashes of Sam’s life that he lived here separate and apart from Dean, and that shifting, unknown layer between Sam’s life with him, and without him is never comfortable to think about.
“It figures with my luck that God lives here.” Dean chuckles to himself.
Santa Barbara is sunny and nice and boring, oil derricks twinkling off in the distance off the coast, and so many motels to pick from. He chooses one that’s on the other side of the freeway from the ocean, much cheaper that way, and settles in for the night with some great-smelling takeout from the Mexican place down the street. A single this time, to save a little more money, and he feels uncomfortable without that extra bed in the room, like there isn’t a space for Sam, no open invitation to return.
First things first though, he settles in on the one bed with a pen and his journal, intending to sketch out the case he’ll be making to God for why Sam should get a free pass out of the Cage. Listing all the reasons why it’s unfair that his brave brother ends up suffering to keep the whole world going, when God could have stopped the whole thing himself.
- Sam is a good person, he always tried to do the right thing
- He always had faith, in God, in me, in the hope that we could stop the Apocalypse
- Sam never forgave himself for starting the Apocalypse
- He was manipulated and tricked by Azazel and his minions his whole life
- He admitted his failures and tried to make amends for them.
And when it comes time to write the last one, he hesitates, because he’s not sure how God will take this. Of course if God knows everything, then he already knows this, but writing it down, admitting it to the blank piece of paper is something altogether different. But he does it, because this is Sam, and there’s no point holding back, because he’s everything, the only reason Dean’s got left.
He fills in number six, pressing very hard on the pen, practically inscribing the words into the paper.
6. I love him. I sold my soul for him. I’d do it again.
Dean laughs at himself for being so emotional about a few words written down, but it’s the real deal, and he knows it for sure now. No hesitation. No more regrets. When he gets Sam back, they’re going to be together, like they always should have been, and just the barest thought of that is enough to make him feel a curl of desire begin deep in his belly. Sam will be his, all his. And he’ll be Sam’s too, which just the thought of makes the feelings of lust and desire quadruple. He struggles a little with it, like he has what seems like practically his whole life. Just sitting there wanting his brother, feeling this overwhelming desire and yes, he’ll admit it, lust, is so strong, but it is not the only feeling, not the most important one.
He’s also going to be complete again, when Sam is at his side like he’s supposed to be. That’s what’s been wrong all these months without him, feeling like half of his heart and soul just weren’t there. Walking around dazed and just off balance because the person he’s used to sharing the world with was gone. Knowing that Sam was continuing to be tortured this whole time is something he tries not to think about too much, because it isn’t like there was anything he could do about it. Picturing what Sam’s been going through, all alone makes Dean feel a little crazy and out of control, like he wants to obliterate something with his bare fists.
Dean reads over the short list he’s written, going over everything to see if he’s left out anything important and closes his eyes for awhile, just to picture his brother, whole, alive, smiling at him from the passenger seat where he belongs; and doesn’t wake up until the next morning, face pressed into the journal, pen still clutched in his hand.
Chapter 4