Dean looked toward the door when it opened fifteen minutes later, and Sam let himself back into the room. He had taken off his boots and made himself comfortable on his bed to watch television until he came back. He saw the apprehension on Sam's face and wondered if it was for him or the story Sam was about to tell.
"You wanna join me over here so we don't have to shout to talk?" Dean asked sitting up and adjusting his pillows so he could lean back against the headboard as Sam stopped in the middle of the room not sure what to do. He muted the television and waited for Sam to grab a pillow off his bed and sit down on the other side of his bed and settle. "Okay, where did I leave off?"
"You were about to give up," Sam filled in thinking back on the words from the day before. He needed to remember to ask him what he meant about changing if he did not by the time he was done.
"Yeah. I don't even want to think about how close I came to that. If I had started torturing souls, I know I could never forgive myself and I would probably have been lost for good. I could never come back from that." Dean's voice got quieter at the end as he turned away from Sam for a moment so he could reign in his emotions to continue. "A demon snuck in to see me and said he could get me out of there and to not give in. Just the idea that there might be a way out helped me hold on to that seed of hope for just a little while longer."
"You're kidding right? Why would a demon help you?" Sam blurred out in shock before he could stop himself.
"No idea, but he didn't do it out of the kindness of his heart. I'm sure he was only looking out for number one and had an ulterior motive for doing it. He was one arrogant, three piece suit wearing, English douche bag, but he came through. Said he was the King of the Crossroads Demons who goes by the name Crowley. He stole a dead body for me to use to…"
"Wait, dead body? You possessed…A dead body?" Sam gasped, not understanding Dean's words. "Why would you need to do that?"
"Look, how 'bout letting me get through this and then ask your questions?" Dean huffed. "It'll make it go easier and faster."
"Okay, sorry," Sam mumbled trying to wrap his head around the fact Dean said he possessed a dead body. If he could do that could he possess a live one too? Was his brother a demon now? Is that what he was trying to tell him?
"Anyway, I couldn't get out of there in the Hell manifested body, so he found another one and did a spell that put my soul into the other body. At least it was a dead one, because I made it clear to him, I wasn't possessing some poor live victim, even to get out of there. Damn bastard had to kill me to do it," he muttered in disgust. "When I woke in the other body, Crowley gave me the coordinates to where my body was, the spell so I could transfer my soul back into it, a change of clothes, a cell phone, and he gave me the credit card I've been using to pay for things. Said it would be good for a month. He used his pet hellhound to lead me to a hell gate that deposited me in a national forest in Kentucky. I still can't believe he had a pet hellhound. I hitched a ride to the nearest town and stole a car to head west. I found where my body was buried, and it was nice Sammy, you did good there. I dug it up and did the spell putting my soul back into this body. I buried the other body there. I found an internet café and tracked your cell to find you and here we are," Dean huffed. "You need to know Sammy, what happened to me in Hell, it did change me, how couldn't it, but I'm still your brother and I care about you."
"Changed you how? I saw what holy water did to you…" Sam trailed off as he looked at Dean. "Christo," he said and watched as Dean's eyes seem to darken slightly for a moment but did not turn completely black.
"What happened?" Dean asked curious to know.
"They…They changed a little, darkened some. Are you a demon?" Sam asked not believing he was asking the question.
"Not completely. My soul did start to change, but I still have some humanity left too. I guess you could say I'm a hybrid. Holy water feels like a bad sunburn, it hurts like hell to smoke out and I really don't want to do it again if I can help it. I can see a demon's true form in their meatsuit, seems I can heal, and I'm stronger than before. That's it so far, but I guess that's enough. I hope you can accept me as I am now."
Sam bit his lower lip and let everything sink in that Dean told him. His brother was some hybrid demon because of him. How was he going to live with that? This was all on him and he couldn't do anything to change it. He jerked away when Dean reached a hand to touch his arm.
"You know, why don't I give you some space for a little while?" Dean said getting up to slip on his boots, not taking time to tie them. "I know it's a lot to process Sammy." Dean headed out the door, leaving Sam sitting on the bed watching him leave and not stopping him.
Sam could kick himself for letting Dean leave like that. Why did he pull away from him? Sam cussed himself for being so insensitive to Dean's ordeal and the suffering he had gone through. It had been for him, all of it, and he just made him feel like shit. He knew Dean tried to hide his hurt, but he saw it before he left. He clenched his jaw and cussed his actions, thinking Dean had endured the worst possible torture all for him and he just rejected him.
The weather outside was sunny with an occasional fluffy cloud passing over the sun dimming the brightness for a few minutes. Dean walked by the Impala and looked around for a moment seeing a grassy area off to the right of the motel and strolled that way. He was acutely aware of all the sounds around him, taking it all in, even the rumbling and roar of the vehicles on the road in front of the motel.
There were picnic tables sitting randomly around in the grass with a few tall trees giving shade. He took a seat at one of the tables and leaned back putting his elbows on the top, closing his eyes and just breathing the air, taking in every scent he could smell. He listened to the birds chirping, squirrels chattering, music filtering in from vehicles on the road, the closing of doors at the motel, and snatches of conversation from people. So much of this he had taken for granted before, and now even the little things stood out to him.
He looked up through the tree branches and watched a breeze rustle the leaves as rays of sunlight found their way down to the ground. Dean's eyes were drawn to several Monarch butterflies that were flitting around and landing on flowers planted in beds along the edge of the grass. It was so calm and relaxing he could almost forget what was going on between him and Sam. Both had their stories to tell and both had been changed by what each went through in the past, five months for Sam, and fifty years for Dean. He didn't blame Sam for rejecting him after he found out what he was. What was going to happen now, he didn't know, but hoped Sam could see past it and accept him.
Sam was shaking by the time he walked down to the laundry room and went inside. He leaned against the washer and drew in some long, deep breaths to calm himself. He opened the machine and began to pull the clothes from it and moved the cart to a dryer. He filled it and put in the quarters to start it. Sam repeated the steps with the other washer and checked the time when they would be done.
He pulled his cell out to check if he had any text but did not. Sam did not know how long Dean's walk would be and it just made him feel all the more tense and nervous. He should have stopped him and gotten this over with, but maybe Dean was right, he needed a little time to process what Dean had told him. He took his time in the laundry room standing there watching the clothes roll around in the dryers trying to get his mind to calm and see Dean for who he was, his brother.
Dean was drinking a bottle of water when Sam let himself back into the room. Thinking a drink sounded good, he got a tea from the fridge and sat back down on the bed. He could feel Dean's eyes on him, but he did not say anything as he waited for Sam to sit back down.
"It's your turn Sammy," Dean told him in a calm, steady voice. "What happened to you after I died? Why didn't you stay with Bobby?"
"After Lilith let the hellhounds in and they attacked and killed you, she tried to kill me but couldn't. I don't know why or how, but her powers didn't work on me. She was as surprised as I was and I started to attack her, but she smoked out and disappeared. I'm so sorry Dean, that I couldn't save you…I would have taken your place if I could have…" Sam's voice quivered as he fought the tears. "Hell, I tried to. I summoned crossroads demons for weeks, I tried, but no one would deal with me. They said they had the right Winchester and I was off limits. I couldn't stay at Bobby's; it was too hard. Everything reminded me of you and the walls just seemed to close in on me. I left and for the first week or two after that…I was drunk most of the time…I mourned and grieved for you…I was ready to end it but got word Lilith was still topside and I started hunting her. I wanted to end her for what she did to you, I still do," he growled angrily. "I still have visions like I did before you…left and I learned how to pull demons from victims with my mind and send them back to hell. I know it sounds freaky, but I've saved a lot of possessed people Dean. At least the ones who bodies weren't already dead because the demons rode them so hard, they didn't survive. I was still out there saving people, hunting, trying to carry on without you. That's what I was doing when you found me, following a lead on Lilith. My five months seems like nothing now compared to your ordeal."
"Is that all?" Dean asked giving him an opening to tell him about the other stuff he knew about.
"Yeah," Sam said looking down at his hands as he worried the hem of his shirt. "It was only five months for me where it was a hella lot longer for you. I tried to lay low." He felt guilty not telling Dean the rest, after Dean was honest with him, but could not bring himself to do it. Dean had been through so much and if he told him about the blood and Ruby, Sam was sure he would not take it well. After all his suffering, to learn Sam had been having sex with a demon and drinking her blood might completely destroy their relationship. He was not sure Dean would want to stay with him if he knew.
"I think I'll go find a bar and get a drink," Dean told Sam thinking he needed the space this time. He did not understand why Sam was hiding things still after he was open and honest with him. He decided not to push Sam for fear he would take off. He would bide his time and watch him closely. At least Ruby was out of the picture and could not manipulate him anymore or feed him her blood. Again, Sam did not stop him from leaving and Dean wasn't sure if that was a bad or good sign.
Dean got in the Impala and pulled from the parking lot to head toward a small town that was a few miles away. He just wanted to drive a bit and calm down. He figured there had to be a bar somewhere opened now since it was afternoon now. He drove on autopilot as his mind mulled over Sam's reaction after he finished his story. Was he rejecting him? Did he see him as a monster?
It was not long before Dean was cruising down what looked like the main street of the small town and finally spotted a bar sitting back from the other businesses. It had a gravel parking lot and the building was made of weathered wood. He pulled into the lot and parked among several other vehicles and a couple of motorcycles and got out.
Dean pushed opened the door and stopped so his eyes could adjust to the dimness of the room, somewhat surprised to find it was not necessary anymore, before moving on in and taking a seat at the bar. He glanced around at the other patrons who ignored him and did not see any trouble as the bartender headed his way.
"What can I get you?" he asked wiping the spot in front of Dean before laying a napkin down.
"Beer and shot of Jack," Dean ordered licking his lips with anticipation wondering if the whiskey and beer would taste the same.
"Coming right up." He sat a shot glass by the napkin and reached for the Jack Daniel's behind him to pour a shot and then reached into the cooler for a beer that he sat on the napkin, as he gathered the payment. "Enjoy."
"Thanks," Dean nodded looking at the drinks for a moment before picking up the shot glass and tossing it back. He closed his eyes as the intense burn started at the back of his throat and slowly ran down it to his stomach. He followed it was a sip of beer and sighed contently. Yep, it still tasted just as good. He waved to the bartender for another shot and took his time with this one. Dean did not want to get drunk since they were not through talking. He wanted to be clear headed enough to hear Sam's story.
The pool tables were empty, and Dean took his beer to one and sat it down so he could rack the balls. He wanted to see if he was rusty after fifty years or would it all come back to him. He grabbed a pool cue and placed the white ball at the end on the felt table. He chalked the cue and leaned over lining up the shot. Dean took his time as he moved the cue back and forth until he hit the ball sending it racing toward the triangle of balls. There was a loud whack when the ball hit the others and Dean glanced around to be sure no one was watching. He needed to learn to control the extra strength he had now, he thought as several of the balls dropped into cups around the table. He moved to take his next shot and paid extra attention to how hard he hit the white ball this time.
"Want a game?" a young guy asked stopping at the table.
Dean looked up at the guy and figured why not. "Sure, why not?"
"Want to make it a little more fun and bet on it?" he asked pulling a pool cue from the rack on the wall.
"I don't know, wouldn't feel right taking your money."
"You think you're that good?"
"I have played a few games over the years."
"Fifty says I can beat you."
"It's your loss. I'll even let you go first." Dean took his beer and stepped back from the table as the guy set the balls in the rack and centered them. He took the white ball and moved to the other end of the table and prepared to shoot.
Dean studied him carefully and could tell he knew what he was doing but did not think he was that good. He watched the ball smack into the others and break up the triangle.
"Looks like I'm striped," the guy said moving to take his next shot. He got two more balls in before missing a shot.
"Okay, guess it's my turn," Dean said. He moved around the table looking at the solid balls working out his shots. One by one each ball went into a pocket. He smiled as the last ball went in and looked to the downfallen face of the guy he was playing. Words filled his mind, 'how am I going to explain losing the grocery money, especially when we need diapers and formula,' and Dean looked at the fifty laying on the corner. He could not take the guy's money, it wasn't right. "You know what?" Dean said. "I can't take your money, I think you need it more than I do. Go on to the store; get your groceries," Dean told him laying another twenty with the cash before walking away toward the door, his steps feeling just a bit lighter.
"Hey, thanks man," the guy said in disbelief. He picked up the money deciding to do what Dean said and headed for the door too. He was not going to make this mistake again. He had a family that needed him and was not going to let them down.
A/N: The brother's stories have been told and each are dealing with them in them own way. How long can Sam keep his secret from Dean? Thank you for taking this journey with me. I do like reviews. NC