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cydsa from part three
Dean lay on his back, staring up at the sliver of blue sky far above him, body aching in places he didn’t know he had places.
“Dean!” Sam skidded to the ground next to him, face wet with sweat and streaked with the blood of giants. “Oh shit,” he moaned, hands hovering over the gaping wound.
“Hey, Sam,” Dean heard his words slur and knew that the trauma to his body was taking him down.
“God, Dean, you look…” Sam’s hands shook as he ripped off his shirt, pressing it against Dean’s arm.
Dean hissed. “Ow! Shit, fuck, godammit!” He didn’t want to look down. “Jeez, this would be a good time for Cas to show up,” he groaned.
“Castiel has healed you?” Dean looked up to see Gabriel and Balthazar staring down at him. Gabriel’s eyes were wide in surprise. “He must think you’re a friend then.”
“Hey,” Dean waved his undamaged arm weakly. “Dean Winchester, Friend of Angels.” And then he saw the tattoo buried into his skin once more. “Well, shit.” He looked at Sam.
Sam stared at his own arm. The Blade of Hades stretched the length of his forearm once more in stark and terrible lines of black and gunmetal. The scrolling words twisted in front of Dean’s eyes and then stopped. “What the…” he said and squinted. “I can read it,” he said and looked up at Sam. “Do you know what it says?”
Sam’s eyes were stark, and reminded Dean of the Sam he’d found when he’d made his trip home from hell. The Sam who’d spent months killing and trying to make deals for Dean’s life and failing every time. “Yeah,” Sam said, his voice was quiet. “I know.”
“Hail Hell’s Boyking,” Dean read and then lifted his arm to Sam, forgetting the fact that he was bleeding to death two thousand years away from his birth. “Can you read mine?”
Sam frowned and then peered at Dean’s arm. “It says, “Chosen Defender of Heaven”,” Sam said. His mouth twisted. “Well at least you’re not getting a crown.”
Dean made a vague ‘up yours’ gesture but hissed again as the agony of the cut to his arm throbbed.
“Can I help you?” Gabriel asked as he crouched down next to Dean and touched a finger to his forehead. The instant relief from pain made Dean gasp. The wound vanished, leaving Dean’s skin unmarked.
“Thanks,” Dean said and sat up, Sam hovering at his side. “Appreciate the assist.”
“You’ve done what you set out to do,” Balthazar said and waved a hand to the carnage behind them. “While I know you acted in the best interests of humanity and our brothers, I would suggest a quick getaway.” He and Gabriel exchanged rueful looks. “Michael, for one, won’t be happy at what you’ve done.”
Sam checked his watch. “We’ve still got some time here,” he said. “I know that Cas and Crowley said a day, so I don’t think they’re going to be looking to bring us back any time soon.”
Gabriel tapped a finger to his lips. “Perhaps the best thing to do would be to hide you for the next few hours,” he mused. “I don’t want your reward for your service to the universe to end up being death by an angel sword.”
Balthazar waved to Dean’s arm. “Michael wouldn’t be able to kill him while he carried the Scimitar,” he pointed out.
“Hmm,” Gabriel’s gaze seemed to spear through them. “I think I’m going to have to break my most solemn vow and hide you in the Garden until it’s time for you to return to your own time.”
“Dude,” Dean breathed, “you’re gonna stash us in the Garden of Eden?” He could feel every molecule in his body lighting up. He knew that Sam was reacting the same way.
Gabriel didn’t look happy. “I’m not happy,” he said.
Balthazar’s face was a study in shock. “You’re going to disobey the Lord for the sake of these two humans?” he asked.
Dean felt obligated to defend himself. “Hey, we just saved your feathery asses,” he complained. “No need to be rude.”
Balthazar ignored him. “Gabriel, this disobedience could mean banishment, abjuration. You could be found apostate.” He sounded horrified.
Gabriel didn’t look at him. He was watching Dean and Sam. “How can I do less than what they have done?” he asked softly. “They risked everything to come back here, to this time and fight enemies they didn’t understand. They did it because they knew it was the right thing to do.”
Dean saw the flash of the angel who had defied Lucifer in Gabriel’s eyes then. It hurt, remembering the asshole who’d spend a thousand Tuesday’s inventing ways to kill him. The dickhead who’d almost removed Sam’s ability to produce children, ever. The brother who’d taken a stand against tyranny and died for it. And then left them a porno to explain how they could win the final battle. Dean hoped that somehow, whatever they had done here today, meant that he’d meet that guy again someday.
“If the Lord ever discovers what you’ve done…” Balthazar’s voice trailed off, and he squared his shoulders. “Well then, perhaps we should clear up this mess?”
Dean heaved a sigh. “Magical angel fire for two hundred dollars, Alex?” he muttered.
Sam snorted a small laugh, and Dean felt his mouth curve in a smile. They’d done it. They’d managed to take out nine half-angel giants and survive.
The possibilities of Lilith being the demon bitch of Dean’s worst nightmares was a consideration for another day.
“I can’t believe you’d risk everything for these two humans, these strangers,” Balthazar was still talking, and Dean wanted to tell him to shut up and that he’d saved an entire boat-load of them back in the future.
“They are imperfect and sinful, and yet they still chose to come back to save the rest of us,” Gabriel said. “Besides, we are now comrades in arms. We have fought together and won. I can do no less for them.”
“Huh,” Dean said, and let Sam help him to his feet. “Backhanded compliment aside, the break would be much appreciated.”
Sam slumped a little, and Dean looked at him sharply. “You okay there, man?”
Sam nodded. “Tired,” he said, and the weariness seemed bone-deep to Dean.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “The trials have done a number on you.”
“Trials?” Balthazar asked. His sharp face was curious but not unkind.
“We’ve been trying to close the gates of Hell,” Sam explained. “Lock up the demons forever.”
“Well, that’s ambitious,” Balthazar said. “So, no success then?” Hos tone was arch and a little patronizing.
“We had to stop before we completed them,” Dean said.
“Because?” Gabriel asked.
“Because it meant that Sam would die,” Dean replied, and his hand dropped to Sam’s thigh. “Nothing was worth losing my brother. Not even fucking over the demons.”
Gabriel nodded. “I can understand that.” He narrowed his eyes. “There’s darkness in you, Sam and it’s eating at your soul in small, painful bites.”
“Yeah,” Sam said and his eyes were dark and haunted. “Yeah.”
“I can help you too, if you would let me,” Gabriel offered.
Sam frowned. “How? I mean, this is serious shit.” Dean could see the earnestness in Sam’s face. Sam always wanted to prepare people for the fucking worst case scenario.
Gabriel snorted, an inelegant sound that made Dean think of the Trickster and game shows and Dr. Sexy and genital herpes. “Hello, archangel,” Gabriel reminded them, puffing his chest out a little. “There’s very little I can’t do.”
Dean thought that he might be right. “Can you fix him?” he asked. “He’s been so fucking broken for so long….” Dean’s voice cracked. He hated this emotional shit. He knew that he was tired, running on fumes after the fight, but Sam being healed, properly healed, was something he’d never hoped for. Not after Death had said it couldn’t be done.
“I can,” Gabriel said and motioned Sam to step closer. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to do delicate work, but I think I still have the knack.” His hands went to Sam’s face and Dean flinched. Watching someone else, anyone else, touching Sam always made him feel antsy.
“What have they done to you?” Gabriel murmured as he focused intently on Sam. “You have been savaged.”
Dean felt sick. He’d known that Cas and Lucifer and the Cage had done damage, but so much of it had been first hidden from Dean, and then put behind a wall that made everything seem fine. When it all turned to shit, and Sam had ended up in a hospital, Dean had been prepared to kill himself just so that he could march right back into fucking Hell and take Sam’s soul back, even if it meant that he had to die to get it right.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was a low moan, and Dean moved nearer, hand reaching out to touch Sam. He forgot for a moment that touching the tattoos together meant a supersonic boom that would hand his ass to him. He froze, braced for impact, but nothing happened.
The Scimitar gave a low, hot pulse in his arm, but otherwise, stayed quiet. “Huh,” Dean said, and looked at where his and Sam’s arms were touching. The lines of the tattoos swirled and curled and moved. Some of the lettering slid off Dean’s arm and oozed onto Sam’s. Sam’s tattoo did the same thing and then they were linked by skin. The weapons of Heaven and Hell were holding them together with script and magic, and Dean couldn’t move a muscle.
“Keep your hand on him,” Gabriel said. “You two share more than blood.” Gabriel’s eyes were almost white now, and Balthazar started looking alarmed. He stepped forward and put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, shuddering at whatever he was seeing.
Dean had no clue what was happening, but it was about Sam, so he obeyed Gabriel without question.
“Do you want the piece of your soul back?” Gabriel’s question startled Dean, and his gaze flew to Sam. Sam’s eyes were intent on him but he didn’t say anything. “Dean? Sam? I can put things back the way they should be, heal you both completely.” Gabriel waited.
Sam cleared his throat. “Whatever Dean wants,” he said.
And Dean wanted.
Dean wanted everything Sam would give him but he was never going to ask for it. “If Sam wants his piece or whatever back then that’s good with me, but I’m okay with mine in him.” He felt uncomfortable even saying it, like it was admitting that he wanted to put something in…and he just wasn’t going to touch that with a ten-mile pole.
“Leave it,” Sam said, and Dean stared at him. Sam smiled at Dean. “It’s safe with Dean.”
“You are such a fucking girl, Sammy,” Dean said but his mouth curved in an answering smile and he squeezed Sam’s arm.
“Says the douche who quoted the “Lord of the Rings” at me the last time we had a heart to heart,” Sam said, but his eyes were shining.
“You do understand what soul-sharing or soul-bonding is?” Gabriel asked.
Dean looked at him. “Cas muttered something, and Crowley laughed like a hyena, I wasn’t really paying attention,” he admitted.
“You will never be complete without each other,” Gabriel said.
Balthazar was making kissy-faces behind Gabriel. Dean was torn between laughing and hitting the asshole.
“Are you saying that he completes me?” Dean asked, and Sam glared at him, mouth pursed and at his most prissy.
“You are such a dick,” Sam told him.
“I’ve never had complaints,” Dean said, waggling his eyebrows. Then he flushed. That felt almost inappropriate.
“So we won’t be happy if we’re apart?” Sam guessed.
Gabriel shrugged. “Happy is an ephemeral concept,” he told them. “All I know is that the amount of love and loyalty it took to create this kind of bond,” he smiled a little sadly, “well, that’s something special, and I don’t think that the Lord or the angels would begrudge you anything.”
“Excuse me?” Dean put his hand up, the hand that wasn’t currently tied to Sam’s hand by a mystical sword tattoo thing. “Are you trying to tell us that God would be okay with us getting jiggy with it?”
“Oh my god,” Sam covered his face with his free hand. “How are you still alive?”
Gabriel stared at Dean. “You say we’ve met in your future?”
Dean nodded.
“I’m guessing that I probably tried to kill you,” Gabriel said.
“A couple hundred times,” Sam agreed. “It didn’t stick.”
“It didn’t stick?” Balthazar started laughing, and Dean beamed at Sam.
Gabriel opened and closed his mouth several times and eventually shook his head. “I’m going to have to do better,” he muttered. He looked at Sam. “How are you feeling?”
Sam blinked. “Better,” he admitted. “Pretty good, actually.” He tried to edge away from Dean but the inky black lines curled tighter around their arms. It looked like they were stuck this way until whatever the swords wanted to do had been done.
“I cauterized the part of your memories that was causing you the pain,” Gabriel told him. “I can’t believe that you are still standing, still functioning with all of that inside you.”
Dean felt a moment of pride. “Sam is a Winchester,” he said. “We’re made to deal with crap on an apocalyptic scale.”
“Well, call this a debt repaid on behalf of my brothers,” Gabriel said. “I did not mean to pry, but I know that Castiel has much to answer for with this.”
Sam nodded slowly. “Thanks, but don’t blame Cas. He was trying to do the right thing.”
Dean opened his mouth to object. His issues with what Castiel had done by removing the wall were his to deal with. Sam was a way more forgiving person than Dean. For now though, he really wanted to find a place to lie down and catch some shut-eye before Apocalypse Maybe was sure to start again. “So, Gabriel, dude, how about dumping us in your garden for an hour or five until we have to head home again?”
Gabriel’s mouth went a little tight. “There are rules,” he said.
“Of course there are,” Sam said, and Dean wanted to roll his eyes, but thought better of it. Progress and personal growth was an honest-to-god bitch sometimes.
“You must not eat…” Gabriel began.
“Of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil,” Sam said.
Gabriel stared at him as though he was an imbecile. “No, of course not,” he said. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Thanks to your forefathers, that particular tree is completely available to eat.”
“Oh,” Sam said and frowned. “So I won’t become like God?”
Dean glared at Sam. “Who wants to be like that asshole?”
“Dean,” Sam said.
Dean looked over at the angels. “Sorry,” he said, not sorry at all, “but your Father is a loser and has been a fucking dick of note to us. Several times.”
Gabriel and Balthazar winced and their shoulders hunched. Gabriel even gave a quick glance up heaven-wards as if he was expecting a lightning bolt any moment.
The tattoos chose that moment to curl back in on themselves and free Sam and Dean from their weird bonds. Dean noticed that Sam didn’t move away, so he stayed right where he was, pressed up against Sam’s side.
“Let me get you two out of here before you get us killed,” Gabriel muttered.
Balthazar nodded vigorously. “I think that is a most splendid idea,” he said. He stepped closer. “I suppose this is goodbye then.” He held out a hand. “Even though I don’t know what my future holds, I’m guessing that you’ll feature in it somewhere.”
Dean shook his hand. “Yeah,” he said and met Balthazar’s eyes. “I’m going to only say one thing, and if it’s the only thing you ever listen to, then this is it.” He waited for Balthazar’s nod. “Don’t trust Lucifer or Castiel.”
Sam’s eyes were wide with shock. “Dean!” he protested.
Dean waved him off. “I can’t just keep quiet, Sam. Not when he’s been so cool about helping us.”
Balthazar stared at Dean. “I thought Castiel was your friend,” he said.
“He is,” Dean said. “Doesn’t mean I trust him.”
Gabriel looked between them. “And Lucifer?” he asked.
“Not going to tell you anything more,” Dean said. “Just remember what I said.”
“Besides,” Sam interjected, “I’m thinking that Lucifer won’t be so much in the picture now that…” he trailed off and looked over at the piles of ash strewn across the canyon floor.
“Yeah,” Dean said. “So much for not changing too much history.” He had a feeling a shitload was going to be different in the time he and Sam would be heading back to.
“So, back to the rules of the Garden. There may be no touching the Tree of Life,” Gabriel said and his eyes flashed white. “Immortality was not meant for humans.”
“Not if you believe the Bible,” Sam said, and Dean poked him in his ribs. “What?” Sam asked. “Wasn’t it supposed to be live forever, have babies and fill the earth?” He looked at Gabriel expectantly.
“You two are going to be so much trouble,” Gabriel sighed.
Balthazar grinned. “I can’t wait.”
“I suppose that this isn’t goodbye,” Gabriel nodded to them. “Until we meet again in time.” Balthazar gave a jaunty finger wave, and Dean moved closer to Sam.
Gabriel tapped them both on the forehead, and the next moment, they were standing by a stream, surrounded by trees and plants and the sound of birdsong hovered in the air.
“Still a sneaky shit, that Gabriel,” Dean noted, rubbing at the queasy rolling of his belly. He turned in a
slow circle, taking in the scene. “Hey! This is nice.”
Sam nodded and knelt down at the water. “It tastes like sugar,” he said, after raising his cupped hands to his mouth. “Like cool, sweet something.” He shrugged and sat back on his heels with a laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
Dean grinned and squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “Good thing I speak Sam then.”
He headed towards a small cluster of trees that looked like they might be hiding a good spot to crash out in. He peered between the trees and was happy to see that the grass looked green and lush. “Come over here, dude, I think we should take a load off here until we get the boost back.”
Sam came up behind him and looked over his shoulder. “A good place for a nap,” he noted with a small smile.
Dean was counting Sam’s smiles. They came more often and much easier than they used to. Hopefully whatever archangel mojo Gabriel had done was going to be a permanent cure for Sam. Hopefully whatever they learned here would have changed some of the decisions they made in the future. Hopefully…Dean Winchester was not a man who had much hope anymore, but if it meant that Sam got a second chance….
“Check it out, Dean,” Sam shouldered past him into the clearing and reached up to tug an apple from a low hanging branch. “You ever seen fruit like this?” He held it out to Dean who took it silently. Sam watched him raise it to his lips and bite into tart, crisp flesh, eyes never leaving Dean’s face.
“’S’good,” Dean said around a mouthful of apple and offered it back to Sam. Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist and lifted the apple to his mouth, the fruit still in Dean’s hand. He deliberately bit down over the edge of the piece that Dean had taken, and Dean could feel his heart beat hard and fast.
It was as though the air was suddenly molasses-thick and everything around them was slow and sweet. Sam kept staring at Dean as his tongue licked at a spot of juice on the corner of his mouth. Dean swallowed hard and kind of forgot that he still had apple in his mouth. He coughed a little and snort-laughed until apple pieces came out of his nose.
“God, I swear, you are the worst mood-killer in the history of the universe,” Sam grumbled, patting him hard and unhelpfully on the back.
Dean wheezed a little and staggered over to a large tree. He flopped down onto his back, sucking at the air. “I’m fucking going to die in the Garden of Eden,” he gasped.
Sam was suddenly straddling him, knees on either side of Dean’s hips. “Mouth-to mouth?” he offered.
Dean practically choked on his tongue. “What the fuck?” He knew that his eyes were probably bugging out of his head, but this thing had never been spoken. He knew that whatever he and Sam felt for each other went beyond brothers. Inappropriately so. But he’d always thought that they’d never say anything about it, let alone do anything.
Right now, his dick was perking up real nice and begging that even if they didn’t talk could they please fucking do already?
“Uh, Sammy?” Dean tried again, but Sam just stared at him. Dean licked his lips, and Sam’s gaze tracked the
movement. It was suddenly a little too warm here in the leafy grove.
“Soul-mates?” Sam’s voice was low and intent. “You think about what that means, Dean?”
“Not really,” Dean said. “I leave the thinking to you, remember. I’m the action man.” He tried to smile but his heart was sitting in his throat.
“This thing I feel inside,” Sam said, and he had his serious face on, the one that meant Dean had better listen or else. “It started way before you went to Hell, Dean. Before I left for Stanford, even.”
“Sam…” Dean wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Sam to stop talking or to never stop.
“No,” Sam said. “This is the time and place where we get it all out in the open. And if it’s a mess then we leave it here and never say another word.”
Dean watched Sam’s eyes. They were the most startling feature on an already startling face. “Okay,” he croaked. He’d never been able to say no to Sam, not really.
“Okay,” Sam repeated, and then he just stared at Dean.
Dean grew a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Anytime, Sammy,” he muttered.
“I’m thinking that you should go first,” Sam said. He didn’t move though, and Dean wanted to squirm but then he realized that he was hard. Then Sam would know, and everything would be shot to shit in half a second.
“How about, no fucking way,” Dean said and glared at Sam. “You’re all about feelings all the time. You started this.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Emotionally constipated, I fucking swear.” And then he bent down and kissed Dean.
For a moment, Dean froze. It was nothing like he’d ever expected. Sam’s mouth was soft, slightly chapped, and very warm. Dean wanted to plunge inside and make himself right at home. So he lunged up and shoved Sam over and did exactly that. Kissing Sam was both terrifying and euphoric. It was perfect and forbidden and Dean couldn’t believe it was actually happening.
He pulled back, and Sam made a whining noise in his throat that made Dean’s dick hurt. “Don’t…” Sam whispered. “Don’t stop, please, Dean.”
“I…” Dean waited for Sam to look at him. “This wasn’t ever supposed to be a thing. I never meant for you to know.”
“You’re a moron,” Sam told him, but his words were soft with affection. “You’ve been the most important person in my life since the day you carried me out of the fire. I always knew.”
“Sam…” Dean couldn’t breathe. “You’re important, too important. I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Sam arched an eyebrow. “Like we’re not completely fucked up already?”
Dean snorted a chuckle. “Fair point,” he admitted. “But if we do this, I don’t care what you say, we won’t be
able to come back from it. We won’t be able to take this back.”
Sam lifted one hand and yanked on Dean’s ear. “Stop being an idiot,” he said when Dean yelped. “We’ve been heading to this forever.” He pulled Dean back down, and Dean allowed himself to drown in Sam’s mouth and arms.
*****
Time passed differently in the Garden of Eden, Dean thought hazily. He lay in Sam’s arms, feeling content for the first time in a very long time. Maybe the first time in his life. Sam’s hands brushed slow strokes down his back, and Dean wanted to tease him about being so touchy, but it honestly felt too good to give Sam a hard time.
“How long still?” Dean asked as he listened to the steady beat of Sam’s heart. He wasn’t sure how he’d survived any time without hearing it.
“I think we’re about out of time,” Sam said, and Dean could feel the ghost-soft touch of lips against his temple.
“Dude,” Dean protested, “I’m not a freaking girl!” He batted at Sam and smirked when he heard Sam’s low laugh.
“You can only say that if you’re not the catcher,” Sam told him.
Dean mustered up a glare. “You are an asshole,” he informed Sam.
“And yet you love me,” Sam said, entirely too comfortable with the “L” word. Dean’s stomach made several twisty circles.
“Maybe,” Dean hedged and felt Sam smack him lightly on the back of the head. Sam’s skin was warm and smooth against Dean’s cheek. He didn’t mind so much.
“We should get dressed,” Sam suggested, and Dean felt an immediate protest form. “I really don’t want to be yanked back to the future naked, do you?”
Put like that, it was a persuasive argument, and with only minimal grumbling, Dean washed off in the nearby stream and pulled on his clothes over damp skin.
Sam helped.
A little.
They kissed slowly, learning the curves and dips of mouth and tongue. Dean had never felt more in-touch with anyone. It was pretty terrifying but also utterly awesome. Sam wasn’t just his brother, his best friend, his responsibility. Sam was his lover, his soul-mate, his future.
Dean really hated introspection.
They sat down at the river bank, arms and legs entwined. The tattoos made lazy circles from Sam’s arm to Dean’s and then sliding back again. The words on the Scimitar and the Blade blended until they slid away and formed new ones.
Sam was the first one to notice of course. “Hey,” he lifted his arm and stared at it. “The sigils on the Blade have changed.”
Dean lifted his own arm and peered at the words on the tattooed blade. “Huh,” he said. “Mine says “Blood Bound”. What does yours say?”
Sam squinted. “Mine says “Blood Bound” too.” He looked over at Dean. “What do you think that means?”
The pop of air next to them heralded the arrival of an angel. Gabriel kept his eyes closed. “Are you decent?” he asked.
Dean scowled. “Would it matter?”
“Not really,” Gabriel admitted and opened his eyes to look at them. “Ready to go home?”
Sam frowned. “What do you have to do with it?” he asked.
Gabriel shrugged. “Apparently you need a little bit of a power boost to get back to your time. Castiel sent a message via Ezekiel who told Joshua who managed to reach me now.”
“So what does that mean?” Dean asked. “You act like a slingshot or something?”
“You’re a lot smarter than you look, Dean Winchester,” Gabriel told him. Sam sniggered, and Dean glared between them. There was an insult somewhere in there.
“You’re going to send us home?” Sam asked.
“I’m going to send you part of the way,” Gabriel corrected. “The spell that Castiel and Crowley cast will probably meet you around the middle ages, but after that you should be fine.”
“Probably, should, none of that makes me feel comforted,” Dean said. He glanced at Sam. “If I end up with my ass facing the front…”
“We are not using a tractor beam, Dean,” Sam said in exasperation. “The spell is complex and very specific. If Gabriel can help us get some of the way home then the spell will pick us up much easier.”
“I don’t know about that,” Dean was dubious. “Somehow things with Cas and Crowley teaming up tend to end badly for us.”
“You trusted them to send you here,” Gabriel pointed out. “Now, trust me to help get you home.”
Dean still wasn’t sure but unless there was some other miraculous solution, this was it. “Okay, what do I have to…?”
to part five
Dean lay on his back, staring up at the sliver of blue sky far above him, body aching in places he didn’t know he had places.
“Dean!” Sam skidded to the ground next to him, face wet with sweat and streaked with the blood of giants. “Oh shit,” he moaned, hands hovering over the gaping wound.
“Hey, Sam,” Dean heard his words slur and knew that the trauma to his body was taking him down.
“God, Dean, you look…” Sam’s hands shook as he ripped off his shirt, pressing it against Dean’s arm.
Dean hissed. “Ow! Shit, fuck, godammit!” He didn’t want to look down. “Jeez, this would be a good time for Cas to show up,” he groaned.
“Castiel has healed you?” Dean looked up to see Gabriel and Balthazar staring down at him. Gabriel’s eyes were wide in surprise. “He must think you’re a friend then.”
“Hey,” Dean waved his undamaged arm weakly. “Dean Winchester, Friend of Angels.” And then he saw the tattoo buried into his skin once more. “Well, shit.” He looked at Sam.
Sam stared at his own arm. The Blade of Hades stretched the length of his forearm once more in stark and terrible lines of black and gunmetal. The scrolling words twisted in front of Dean’s eyes and then stopped. “What the…” he said and squinted. “I can read it,” he said and looked up at Sam. “Do you know what it says?”
Sam’s eyes were stark, and reminded Dean of the Sam he’d found when he’d made his trip home from hell. The Sam who’d spent months killing and trying to make deals for Dean’s life and failing every time. “Yeah,” Sam said, his voice was quiet. “I know.”
“Hail Hell’s Boyking,” Dean read and then lifted his arm to Sam, forgetting the fact that he was bleeding to death two thousand years away from his birth. “Can you read mine?”
Sam frowned and then peered at Dean’s arm. “It says, “Chosen Defender of Heaven”,” Sam said. His mouth twisted. “Well at least you’re not getting a crown.”
Dean made a vague ‘up yours’ gesture but hissed again as the agony of the cut to his arm throbbed.
“Can I help you?” Gabriel asked as he crouched down next to Dean and touched a finger to his forehead. The instant relief from pain made Dean gasp. The wound vanished, leaving Dean’s skin unmarked.
“Thanks,” Dean said and sat up, Sam hovering at his side. “Appreciate the assist.”
“You’ve done what you set out to do,” Balthazar said and waved a hand to the carnage behind them. “While I know you acted in the best interests of humanity and our brothers, I would suggest a quick getaway.” He and Gabriel exchanged rueful looks. “Michael, for one, won’t be happy at what you’ve done.”
Sam checked his watch. “We’ve still got some time here,” he said. “I know that Cas and Crowley said a day, so I don’t think they’re going to be looking to bring us back any time soon.”
Gabriel tapped a finger to his lips. “Perhaps the best thing to do would be to hide you for the next few hours,” he mused. “I don’t want your reward for your service to the universe to end up being death by an angel sword.”
Balthazar waved to Dean’s arm. “Michael wouldn’t be able to kill him while he carried the Scimitar,” he pointed out.
“Hmm,” Gabriel’s gaze seemed to spear through them. “I think I’m going to have to break my most solemn vow and hide you in the Garden until it’s time for you to return to your own time.”
“Dude,” Dean breathed, “you’re gonna stash us in the Garden of Eden?” He could feel every molecule in his body lighting up. He knew that Sam was reacting the same way.
Gabriel didn’t look happy. “I’m not happy,” he said.
Balthazar’s face was a study in shock. “You’re going to disobey the Lord for the sake of these two humans?” he asked.
Dean felt obligated to defend himself. “Hey, we just saved your feathery asses,” he complained. “No need to be rude.”
Balthazar ignored him. “Gabriel, this disobedience could mean banishment, abjuration. You could be found apostate.” He sounded horrified.
Gabriel didn’t look at him. He was watching Dean and Sam. “How can I do less than what they have done?” he asked softly. “They risked everything to come back here, to this time and fight enemies they didn’t understand. They did it because they knew it was the right thing to do.”
Dean saw the flash of the angel who had defied Lucifer in Gabriel’s eyes then. It hurt, remembering the asshole who’d spend a thousand Tuesday’s inventing ways to kill him. The dickhead who’d almost removed Sam’s ability to produce children, ever. The brother who’d taken a stand against tyranny and died for it. And then left them a porno to explain how they could win the final battle. Dean hoped that somehow, whatever they had done here today, meant that he’d meet that guy again someday.
“If the Lord ever discovers what you’ve done…” Balthazar’s voice trailed off, and he squared his shoulders. “Well then, perhaps we should clear up this mess?”
Dean heaved a sigh. “Magical angel fire for two hundred dollars, Alex?” he muttered.
Sam snorted a small laugh, and Dean felt his mouth curve in a smile. They’d done it. They’d managed to take out nine half-angel giants and survive.
The possibilities of Lilith being the demon bitch of Dean’s worst nightmares was a consideration for another day.
“I can’t believe you’d risk everything for these two humans, these strangers,” Balthazar was still talking, and Dean wanted to tell him to shut up and that he’d saved an entire boat-load of them back in the future.
“They are imperfect and sinful, and yet they still chose to come back to save the rest of us,” Gabriel said. “Besides, we are now comrades in arms. We have fought together and won. I can do no less for them.”
“Huh,” Dean said, and let Sam help him to his feet. “Backhanded compliment aside, the break would be much appreciated.”
Sam slumped a little, and Dean looked at him sharply. “You okay there, man?”
Sam nodded. “Tired,” he said, and the weariness seemed bone-deep to Dean.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “The trials have done a number on you.”
“Trials?” Balthazar asked. His sharp face was curious but not unkind.
“We’ve been trying to close the gates of Hell,” Sam explained. “Lock up the demons forever.”
“Well, that’s ambitious,” Balthazar said. “So, no success then?” Hos tone was arch and a little patronizing.
“We had to stop before we completed them,” Dean said.
“Because?” Gabriel asked.
“Because it meant that Sam would die,” Dean replied, and his hand dropped to Sam’s thigh. “Nothing was worth losing my brother. Not even fucking over the demons.”
Gabriel nodded. “I can understand that.” He narrowed his eyes. “There’s darkness in you, Sam and it’s eating at your soul in small, painful bites.”
“Yeah,” Sam said and his eyes were dark and haunted. “Yeah.”
“I can help you too, if you would let me,” Gabriel offered.
Sam frowned. “How? I mean, this is serious shit.” Dean could see the earnestness in Sam’s face. Sam always wanted to prepare people for the fucking worst case scenario.
Gabriel snorted, an inelegant sound that made Dean think of the Trickster and game shows and Dr. Sexy and genital herpes. “Hello, archangel,” Gabriel reminded them, puffing his chest out a little. “There’s very little I can’t do.”
Dean thought that he might be right. “Can you fix him?” he asked. “He’s been so fucking broken for so long….” Dean’s voice cracked. He hated this emotional shit. He knew that he was tired, running on fumes after the fight, but Sam being healed, properly healed, was something he’d never hoped for. Not after Death had said it couldn’t be done.
“I can,” Gabriel said and motioned Sam to step closer. “It’s been a while since I’ve had to do delicate work, but I think I still have the knack.” His hands went to Sam’s face and Dean flinched. Watching someone else, anyone else, touching Sam always made him feel antsy.
“What have they done to you?” Gabriel murmured as he focused intently on Sam. “You have been savaged.”
Dean felt sick. He’d known that Cas and Lucifer and the Cage had done damage, but so much of it had been first hidden from Dean, and then put behind a wall that made everything seem fine. When it all turned to shit, and Sam had ended up in a hospital, Dean had been prepared to kill himself just so that he could march right back into fucking Hell and take Sam’s soul back, even if it meant that he had to die to get it right.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice was a low moan, and Dean moved nearer, hand reaching out to touch Sam. He forgot for a moment that touching the tattoos together meant a supersonic boom that would hand his ass to him. He froze, braced for impact, but nothing happened.
The Scimitar gave a low, hot pulse in his arm, but otherwise, stayed quiet. “Huh,” Dean said, and looked at where his and Sam’s arms were touching. The lines of the tattoos swirled and curled and moved. Some of the lettering slid off Dean’s arm and oozed onto Sam’s. Sam’s tattoo did the same thing and then they were linked by skin. The weapons of Heaven and Hell were holding them together with script and magic, and Dean couldn’t move a muscle.
“Keep your hand on him,” Gabriel said. “You two share more than blood.” Gabriel’s eyes were almost white now, and Balthazar started looking alarmed. He stepped forward and put a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, shuddering at whatever he was seeing.
Dean had no clue what was happening, but it was about Sam, so he obeyed Gabriel without question.
“Do you want the piece of your soul back?” Gabriel’s question startled Dean, and his gaze flew to Sam. Sam’s eyes were intent on him but he didn’t say anything. “Dean? Sam? I can put things back the way they should be, heal you both completely.” Gabriel waited.
Sam cleared his throat. “Whatever Dean wants,” he said.
And Dean wanted.
Dean wanted everything Sam would give him but he was never going to ask for it. “If Sam wants his piece or whatever back then that’s good with me, but I’m okay with mine in him.” He felt uncomfortable even saying it, like it was admitting that he wanted to put something in…and he just wasn’t going to touch that with a ten-mile pole.
“Leave it,” Sam said, and Dean stared at him. Sam smiled at Dean. “It’s safe with Dean.”
“You are such a fucking girl, Sammy,” Dean said but his mouth curved in an answering smile and he squeezed Sam’s arm.
“Says the douche who quoted the “Lord of the Rings” at me the last time we had a heart to heart,” Sam said, but his eyes were shining.
“You do understand what soul-sharing or soul-bonding is?” Gabriel asked.
Dean looked at him. “Cas muttered something, and Crowley laughed like a hyena, I wasn’t really paying attention,” he admitted.
“You will never be complete without each other,” Gabriel said.
Balthazar was making kissy-faces behind Gabriel. Dean was torn between laughing and hitting the asshole.
“Are you saying that he completes me?” Dean asked, and Sam glared at him, mouth pursed and at his most prissy.
“You are such a dick,” Sam told him.
“I’ve never had complaints,” Dean said, waggling his eyebrows. Then he flushed. That felt almost inappropriate.
“So we won’t be happy if we’re apart?” Sam guessed.
Gabriel shrugged. “Happy is an ephemeral concept,” he told them. “All I know is that the amount of love and loyalty it took to create this kind of bond,” he smiled a little sadly, “well, that’s something special, and I don’t think that the Lord or the angels would begrudge you anything.”
“Excuse me?” Dean put his hand up, the hand that wasn’t currently tied to Sam’s hand by a mystical sword tattoo thing. “Are you trying to tell us that God would be okay with us getting jiggy with it?”
“Oh my god,” Sam covered his face with his free hand. “How are you still alive?”
Gabriel stared at Dean. “You say we’ve met in your future?”
Dean nodded.
“I’m guessing that I probably tried to kill you,” Gabriel said.
“A couple hundred times,” Sam agreed. “It didn’t stick.”
“It didn’t stick?” Balthazar started laughing, and Dean beamed at Sam.
Gabriel opened and closed his mouth several times and eventually shook his head. “I’m going to have to do better,” he muttered. He looked at Sam. “How are you feeling?”
Sam blinked. “Better,” he admitted. “Pretty good, actually.” He tried to edge away from Dean but the inky black lines curled tighter around their arms. It looked like they were stuck this way until whatever the swords wanted to do had been done.
“I cauterized the part of your memories that was causing you the pain,” Gabriel told him. “I can’t believe that you are still standing, still functioning with all of that inside you.”
Dean felt a moment of pride. “Sam is a Winchester,” he said. “We’re made to deal with crap on an apocalyptic scale.”
“Well, call this a debt repaid on behalf of my brothers,” Gabriel said. “I did not mean to pry, but I know that Castiel has much to answer for with this.”
Sam nodded slowly. “Thanks, but don’t blame Cas. He was trying to do the right thing.”
Dean opened his mouth to object. His issues with what Castiel had done by removing the wall were his to deal with. Sam was a way more forgiving person than Dean. For now though, he really wanted to find a place to lie down and catch some shut-eye before Apocalypse Maybe was sure to start again. “So, Gabriel, dude, how about dumping us in your garden for an hour or five until we have to head home again?”
Gabriel’s mouth went a little tight. “There are rules,” he said.
“Of course there are,” Sam said, and Dean wanted to roll his eyes, but thought better of it. Progress and personal growth was an honest-to-god bitch sometimes.
“You must not eat…” Gabriel began.
“Of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil,” Sam said.
Gabriel stared at him as though he was an imbecile. “No, of course not,” he said. “That doesn’t matter anymore. Thanks to your forefathers, that particular tree is completely available to eat.”
“Oh,” Sam said and frowned. “So I won’t become like God?”
Dean glared at Sam. “Who wants to be like that asshole?”
“Dean,” Sam said.
Dean looked over at the angels. “Sorry,” he said, not sorry at all, “but your Father is a loser and has been a fucking dick of note to us. Several times.”
Gabriel and Balthazar winced and their shoulders hunched. Gabriel even gave a quick glance up heaven-wards as if he was expecting a lightning bolt any moment.
The tattoos chose that moment to curl back in on themselves and free Sam and Dean from their weird bonds. Dean noticed that Sam didn’t move away, so he stayed right where he was, pressed up against Sam’s side.
“Let me get you two out of here before you get us killed,” Gabriel muttered.
Balthazar nodded vigorously. “I think that is a most splendid idea,” he said. He stepped closer. “I suppose this is goodbye then.” He held out a hand. “Even though I don’t know what my future holds, I’m guessing that you’ll feature in it somewhere.”
Dean shook his hand. “Yeah,” he said and met Balthazar’s eyes. “I’m going to only say one thing, and if it’s the only thing you ever listen to, then this is it.” He waited for Balthazar’s nod. “Don’t trust Lucifer or Castiel.”
Sam’s eyes were wide with shock. “Dean!” he protested.
Dean waved him off. “I can’t just keep quiet, Sam. Not when he’s been so cool about helping us.”
Balthazar stared at Dean. “I thought Castiel was your friend,” he said.
“He is,” Dean said. “Doesn’t mean I trust him.”
Gabriel looked between them. “And Lucifer?” he asked.
“Not going to tell you anything more,” Dean said. “Just remember what I said.”
“Besides,” Sam interjected, “I’m thinking that Lucifer won’t be so much in the picture now that…” he trailed off and looked over at the piles of ash strewn across the canyon floor.
“Yeah,” Dean said. “So much for not changing too much history.” He had a feeling a shitload was going to be different in the time he and Sam would be heading back to.
“So, back to the rules of the Garden. There may be no touching the Tree of Life,” Gabriel said and his eyes flashed white. “Immortality was not meant for humans.”
“Not if you believe the Bible,” Sam said, and Dean poked him in his ribs. “What?” Sam asked. “Wasn’t it supposed to be live forever, have babies and fill the earth?” He looked at Gabriel expectantly.
“You two are going to be so much trouble,” Gabriel sighed.
Balthazar grinned. “I can’t wait.”
“I suppose that this isn’t goodbye,” Gabriel nodded to them. “Until we meet again in time.” Balthazar gave a jaunty finger wave, and Dean moved closer to Sam.
Gabriel tapped them both on the forehead, and the next moment, they were standing by a stream, surrounded by trees and plants and the sound of birdsong hovered in the air.
“Still a sneaky shit, that Gabriel,” Dean noted, rubbing at the queasy rolling of his belly. He turned in a
slow circle, taking in the scene. “Hey! This is nice.”
Sam nodded and knelt down at the water. “It tastes like sugar,” he said, after raising his cupped hands to his mouth. “Like cool, sweet something.” He shrugged and sat back on his heels with a laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
Dean grinned and squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “Good thing I speak Sam then.”
He headed towards a small cluster of trees that looked like they might be hiding a good spot to crash out in. He peered between the trees and was happy to see that the grass looked green and lush. “Come over here, dude, I think we should take a load off here until we get the boost back.”
Sam came up behind him and looked over his shoulder. “A good place for a nap,” he noted with a small smile.
Dean was counting Sam’s smiles. They came more often and much easier than they used to. Hopefully whatever archangel mojo Gabriel had done was going to be a permanent cure for Sam. Hopefully whatever they learned here would have changed some of the decisions they made in the future. Hopefully…Dean Winchester was not a man who had much hope anymore, but if it meant that Sam got a second chance….
“Check it out, Dean,” Sam shouldered past him into the clearing and reached up to tug an apple from a low hanging branch. “You ever seen fruit like this?” He held it out to Dean who took it silently. Sam watched him raise it to his lips and bite into tart, crisp flesh, eyes never leaving Dean’s face.
“’S’good,” Dean said around a mouthful of apple and offered it back to Sam. Sam grabbed Dean’s wrist and lifted the apple to his mouth, the fruit still in Dean’s hand. He deliberately bit down over the edge of the piece that Dean had taken, and Dean could feel his heart beat hard and fast.
It was as though the air was suddenly molasses-thick and everything around them was slow and sweet. Sam kept staring at Dean as his tongue licked at a spot of juice on the corner of his mouth. Dean swallowed hard and kind of forgot that he still had apple in his mouth. He coughed a little and snort-laughed until apple pieces came out of his nose.
“God, I swear, you are the worst mood-killer in the history of the universe,” Sam grumbled, patting him hard and unhelpfully on the back.
Dean wheezed a little and staggered over to a large tree. He flopped down onto his back, sucking at the air. “I’m fucking going to die in the Garden of Eden,” he gasped.
Sam was suddenly straddling him, knees on either side of Dean’s hips. “Mouth-to mouth?” he offered.
Dean practically choked on his tongue. “What the fuck?” He knew that his eyes were probably bugging out of his head, but this thing had never been spoken. He knew that whatever he and Sam felt for each other went beyond brothers. Inappropriately so. But he’d always thought that they’d never say anything about it, let alone do anything.
Right now, his dick was perking up real nice and begging that even if they didn’t talk could they please fucking do already?
“Uh, Sammy?” Dean tried again, but Sam just stared at him. Dean licked his lips, and Sam’s gaze tracked the
movement. It was suddenly a little too warm here in the leafy grove.
“Soul-mates?” Sam’s voice was low and intent. “You think about what that means, Dean?”
“Not really,” Dean said. “I leave the thinking to you, remember. I’m the action man.” He tried to smile but his heart was sitting in his throat.
“This thing I feel inside,” Sam said, and he had his serious face on, the one that meant Dean had better listen or else. “It started way before you went to Hell, Dean. Before I left for Stanford, even.”
“Sam…” Dean wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He wasn’t sure if he wanted Sam to stop talking or to never stop.
“No,” Sam said. “This is the time and place where we get it all out in the open. And if it’s a mess then we leave it here and never say another word.”
Dean watched Sam’s eyes. They were the most startling feature on an already startling face. “Okay,” he croaked. He’d never been able to say no to Sam, not really.
“Okay,” Sam repeated, and then he just stared at Dean.
Dean grew a little uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Anytime, Sammy,” he muttered.
“I’m thinking that you should go first,” Sam said. He didn’t move though, and Dean wanted to squirm but then he realized that he was hard. Then Sam would know, and everything would be shot to shit in half a second.
“How about, no fucking way,” Dean said and glared at Sam. “You’re all about feelings all the time. You started this.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Emotionally constipated, I fucking swear.” And then he bent down and kissed Dean.
For a moment, Dean froze. It was nothing like he’d ever expected. Sam’s mouth was soft, slightly chapped, and very warm. Dean wanted to plunge inside and make himself right at home. So he lunged up and shoved Sam over and did exactly that. Kissing Sam was both terrifying and euphoric. It was perfect and forbidden and Dean couldn’t believe it was actually happening.
He pulled back, and Sam made a whining noise in his throat that made Dean’s dick hurt. “Don’t…” Sam whispered. “Don’t stop, please, Dean.”
“I…” Dean waited for Sam to look at him. “This wasn’t ever supposed to be a thing. I never meant for you to know.”
“You’re a moron,” Sam told him, but his words were soft with affection. “You’ve been the most important person in my life since the day you carried me out of the fire. I always knew.”
“Sam…” Dean couldn’t breathe. “You’re important, too important. I don’t want to fuck this up.”
Sam arched an eyebrow. “Like we’re not completely fucked up already?”
Dean snorted a chuckle. “Fair point,” he admitted. “But if we do this, I don’t care what you say, we won’t be
able to come back from it. We won’t be able to take this back.”
Sam lifted one hand and yanked on Dean’s ear. “Stop being an idiot,” he said when Dean yelped. “We’ve been heading to this forever.” He pulled Dean back down, and Dean allowed himself to drown in Sam’s mouth and arms.
*****
Time passed differently in the Garden of Eden, Dean thought hazily. He lay in Sam’s arms, feeling content for the first time in a very long time. Maybe the first time in his life. Sam’s hands brushed slow strokes down his back, and Dean wanted to tease him about being so touchy, but it honestly felt too good to give Sam a hard time.
“How long still?” Dean asked as he listened to the steady beat of Sam’s heart. He wasn’t sure how he’d survived any time without hearing it.
“I think we’re about out of time,” Sam said, and Dean could feel the ghost-soft touch of lips against his temple.
“Dude,” Dean protested, “I’m not a freaking girl!” He batted at Sam and smirked when he heard Sam’s low laugh.
“You can only say that if you’re not the catcher,” Sam told him.
Dean mustered up a glare. “You are an asshole,” he informed Sam.
“And yet you love me,” Sam said, entirely too comfortable with the “L” word. Dean’s stomach made several twisty circles.
“Maybe,” Dean hedged and felt Sam smack him lightly on the back of the head. Sam’s skin was warm and smooth against Dean’s cheek. He didn’t mind so much.
“We should get dressed,” Sam suggested, and Dean felt an immediate protest form. “I really don’t want to be yanked back to the future naked, do you?”
Put like that, it was a persuasive argument, and with only minimal grumbling, Dean washed off in the nearby stream and pulled on his clothes over damp skin.
Sam helped.
A little.
They kissed slowly, learning the curves and dips of mouth and tongue. Dean had never felt more in-touch with anyone. It was pretty terrifying but also utterly awesome. Sam wasn’t just his brother, his best friend, his responsibility. Sam was his lover, his soul-mate, his future.
Dean really hated introspection.
They sat down at the river bank, arms and legs entwined. The tattoos made lazy circles from Sam’s arm to Dean’s and then sliding back again. The words on the Scimitar and the Blade blended until they slid away and formed new ones.
Sam was the first one to notice of course. “Hey,” he lifted his arm and stared at it. “The sigils on the Blade have changed.”
Dean lifted his own arm and peered at the words on the tattooed blade. “Huh,” he said. “Mine says “Blood Bound”. What does yours say?”
Sam squinted. “Mine says “Blood Bound” too.” He looked over at Dean. “What do you think that means?”
The pop of air next to them heralded the arrival of an angel. Gabriel kept his eyes closed. “Are you decent?” he asked.
Dean scowled. “Would it matter?”
“Not really,” Gabriel admitted and opened his eyes to look at them. “Ready to go home?”
Sam frowned. “What do you have to do with it?” he asked.
Gabriel shrugged. “Apparently you need a little bit of a power boost to get back to your time. Castiel sent a message via Ezekiel who told Joshua who managed to reach me now.”
“So what does that mean?” Dean asked. “You act like a slingshot or something?”
“You’re a lot smarter than you look, Dean Winchester,” Gabriel told him. Sam sniggered, and Dean glared between them. There was an insult somewhere in there.
“You’re going to send us home?” Sam asked.
“I’m going to send you part of the way,” Gabriel corrected. “The spell that Castiel and Crowley cast will probably meet you around the middle ages, but after that you should be fine.”
“Probably, should, none of that makes me feel comforted,” Dean said. He glanced at Sam. “If I end up with my ass facing the front…”
“We are not using a tractor beam, Dean,” Sam said in exasperation. “The spell is complex and very specific. If Gabriel can help us get some of the way home then the spell will pick us up much easier.”
“I don’t know about that,” Dean was dubious. “Somehow things with Cas and Crowley teaming up tend to end badly for us.”
“You trusted them to send you here,” Gabriel pointed out. “Now, trust me to help get you home.”
Dean still wasn’t sure but unless there was some other miraculous solution, this was it. “Okay, what do I have to…?”
to part five