…He walked along the street, seeming to glide over the rough pavement. People unconsciously moved aside as he passed, like ripples heading away from the curved sharpness of a shark’s fin. No-one looked at him as he passed – one glimpse of his face was enough. It was neither kind nor unkind and not remarkable, even though his jet-black, shining hair looked like it should belong to a much younger man, but there was a dark light in it, which people didn’t want to see or remember. He held his silver-tipped cane in his right hand and every so often he shook it slightly and anyone near him would shiver, hunch down and scurry away as if the bitter wind had got up again.
He was thinking about the Balance. It had shifted, ever so slightly, but enough so he could notice it and it troubled him. It had happened before, of course – there was nothing new in this particular universe – but then Heaven and Hell hadn’t been so …unstructured… back then. His mouth turned down as he thought of Crowley. Such a mean little spirit, he thought, but dangerous, like a terrier once it got its teeth locked into your leg. He smiled at the thought but the smile vanished almost immediately as he contemplated the horrible mess Heaven was in. Castiel had a lot to answer for, he thought. Crowley could very well become more than a nuisance without Heaven and its angels to keep him in check, which led him back to the Balance again... He sighed, but then his nose picked up a faint aroma from somewhere ahead on the block. Bacon dogs, he thought almost gleefully, and cheeseburgers. They reminded him of why he liked being here on Earth, and of someone – someone who could maybe, just maybe, be useful to Him again. But first, some ‘crap food’ as the man he was thinking of would have said. His smile was wide and terrible to look at as he powered away, his feet not quite touching the ground now in his haste…
Dean was sitting alone in a bar. Someone was eying him up from further down – he could see her in the wide mirror behind the bar and she looked attractive in the dim light: shiny, dark hair, laughing eyes and a wide smile, maybe late-twenties, but he wasn’t interested, not tonight. He just wanted some time to himself to sit and think what he could do about Sammy. He turned away just enough to discourage any conversation and ordered a whisky to go with his beer. Sam was worse, no doubt about it. He knew his brother wasn’t sleeping, not much anyway, and sometimes he looked like he was about to keel over. He couldn’t let him do the third trial, yet what choice did he have? He wished with all his heart that he’d ignored Sam and just gone out and found another hellhound to kill so he could do the trials instead but things had gone too far now. He was interrupted in his painful thoughts by feeling the pressure of a hand on his right shoulder. He sighed inside and turned around, ready to give the woman the brush-off as nicely as he could, when he looked into the eyes of Death…
‘Hello, Dean,’ he said, sitting down on the stool next to him. He placed his cane carefully between his knees, looked up and gave Dean a wide smile but it wasn’t pleasant, Dean thought, it was …predatory.
‘What do you want?’ he said shortly, looking back at his whisky,
‘Careful, Dean,’ Death said softly.
Dean felt a chill on his spine from the sudden cold radiating out from Death. No good pissing him off, not yet anyway, he thought, and he looked back into Death’s eyes. ‘Sorry, I’ve a lot on my mind now, and seein’ you again, can’t be good news.’
‘Well, as it happens, I might have some good news for you, well good news for your brother, which amounts to the same thing,’ he said.
Dean looked at him with new interest. ‘What do y’ mean?’ he asked, trying but failing to keep the anticipation out of his voice.
Death smiled briefly and it was a warmer smile, more human this time. ‘I know you’re worried about the trials damaging Sam and you’re not sure he’ll manage the third one. Deep down, you’re worried if he’ll even survive them…’
Dean’s face displayed his misery for a moment before he put his game face back on. ‘So, you can help then? And what’s the price this time?’ he asked quietly.
‘I need a favor, and in return, I might be able to help Sam, give him some of his strength back before the third trial. Believe me, he’ll need it,’ Death said.
‘So you know what the third trial will be?’ Dean asked eagerly.
Death nodded his head. ‘I do,’ he agreed, but he held his hand up just as Dean started to speak. ‘But I’m not going to tell you. You’ll have to wait for Kevin to decipher it – or someone else.’
‘What does that mean?’ said Dean, his voice rising. People in the bar were starting to look around at the sudden increase in volume.
‘Calm down, Dean,’ Death said coldly. ‘You’re drawing attention to us and we don’t want that, do we?’
Dean took a deep breath. ‘More cryptic crap!’ he said bitterly. ‘What do I have to do so you’ll help Sammy?’
‘That’s better,’ said Death, smiling faintly again. ‘I need you to pull a soul out of Hell for me – someone you know in fact.’
‘Sam’s already pulled Bobby out,’ Dean said as he looked away. ‘That was the second trial.’
I know,’ said Death patiently, ‘but I’m talking of someone else…Your grandfather, in fact.’
‘That sonofab*tch!’ said Dean, his voice rising again. ‘He can rot in Hell for all I care!’
‘No, not Samuel Campbell, I’m talking about your paternal grandfather, Henry Winchester,’ Death said.
Dean’s eyes opened wide. ‘Henry couldn’t be in Hell, no way!’ he said.
‘I’m afraid he is. Crowley has put a notice out on everyone who’s ever helped you. You and Sam are on his personal hate list and he’s intercepting souls while Heaven is in disarray.’
‘He’s using your rogue reapers!’ Dean accused him. Why can’t you sort them out?’ he said, leaning towards Death.
Death pulled his face back as Dean invaded his personal space and glared at him. ‘You forget your place, Dean, and who I am! You’re less than a microbe to me and I could swat you easier than you could crush an insect under your heel – better still, I could make it so you’d never even existed and you dare to threaten me!’
Dean saw faint spots of red appear in Death’s chalk-white cheeks and his eyes were glittering. He felt he was looking into Eternity and he tried to pull his face back but Death wouldn’t let him move or look away.
‘The only reason you’re still semi-sentient is because I have a use for you,’ he said slowly. He held Dean’s gaze forever and then looked away. Dean sagged back on the stool, exhausted and sick to his stomach. He looked at his watch. Only ten minutes had gone by since he last looked at it so he could only have been here with Death for a couple of minutes, yet he felt he’d lived his whole life and more in this bar, looking into Death’s eyes. He lifted his whisky glass with shaking hands and tried to take a swallow but the whisky was frozen solid at the bottom of the glass.
‘Now, the bargain,’ said Death in his usual soft tones. ‘I want you to rescue Henry Winchester and then he can go to Heaven and everything will be right again, and in return I will help Sam – agreed?’
Dean nodded. He still felt drained. ‘But how am I supposed to get into Hell?’
‘I will have one of my reapers visit you tonight to take you there and bring you back, but the rescue is up to you. You’ve just got time to drive back to your …place first,’ Death said and he got up to leave, using his cane to help him stand.
‘Wait!’ Dean said and Death turned back to look at him. ‘How do I get past Crowley and all his grunts?’
‘That’s up to you, Dean,’ and he showed his teeth. ‘But I’ll give you this,’ and he brought a small black sickle out of his coat pocket and handed it to Dean. ‘This should help. I’ll leave it to the reaper to explain anything else you need to know,’ and he walked out of the bar without looking back.
Dean lifted a finger to the barman to order a double which he drank in one gulp and then he left.
Dean drove back to the base – his and Sam’s home now, he corrected himself. It still felt strange, thinking he had a proper home for the first time in oh, about thirty years, but that’s what it was. A place to go back to, somewhere to live in between jobs, not having to exist in scuzzy motel rooms or to sleep in his Baby… His face lightened as he thought of her. All Sam needed now was a dog, he thought and he smiled now, glad to be going back to see his brother, but then his mouth turned down as he thought about how he was going to explain this to Sam. He wouldn’t like it, not one little bit, but it had to be done…
He got back about two hours later. It was late and when he went in, everywhere was in darkness. He switched a single light on and by its dim glow he went to Sam’s room and knocked quietly. There was no answer and he opened the door a little so he could see in through the crack. He could just make out Sam asleep in bed. He looked to be out for the count so he closed the door and went to his own room. He turned the bedside light on, threw himself on his bed and laced his hands behind his head while he waited for the reaper to appear. Time to tell Sam all about it later when he knew what was happening…
Dean thought he must have turned the light off and drifted off to sleep because he woke up with a start in the dark. He sat up and looked at his watch and saw it was two in the morning. When was this reaper going to appear? He could see a faint outline of light around the door frame now that his eyes had adjusted to the dark and he didn’t bother with the light. He swung his legs off the bed and went to open the door but his hand passed right through the handle! He lifted his hand up and looked at it wonderingly but then his face changed and he looked back at the bed. His body was lying there, still as death…
He tried a few times to open the door but nothing worked. ‘Wish you were here to show me the ropes, Bobby!’ he muttered as he went back to the bed and sat down on the end. He knew he could sit down on his body as he’d just slide through it but it seemed wrong somehow.
‘Damnit, being dead is slowing me down!’ he shouted and he got up and walked back over to the door, shut his eyes and walked right into it. He felt a slight sensation of his skin prickling but then he was through into the hallway. He wandered through into the living room and saw someone sitting there, facing away from him. She turned around smiling and he saw it was Tessa!
‘Hello, Dean,’ she said, getting up and walking over to him. She held his hand as she kissed his cheek and he smiled back at her.
‘Hi, Tessa! I suppose I should’ve guessed it’d be you, huh?’
‘Well, the Boss knows we have history. I guess he thought I’d be a bit more …invested in bringing you back safely,’ she said.
‘Well, I’m glad about that,’ he said, grinning down at her. ‘So, what now?’
‘Well, you can see you’re already dead,’ she said. ‘Time to go, Dean! The clock’s ticking. I’ll explain the rest on the way.’
He pulled away from her. ‘Er, what about Sam? I need to tell him what’s goin’ on with us,’ he said.
‘No time now, Dean! We’ve a tight timeframe to work in, and anyway I can’t return you now until it’s all over.’
‘But, he’ll just think I’ve died!’ he said.
‘He probably won’t even wake up before we get back, Dean! Don’t worry nothing will happen to your body for now.’
She tugged his hand again and he walked with her through the wall…
Sam was having a nightmare about the second trial. He was in Hell, looking for his grandfather, Henry Winchester, and every corner he turned, he’d see Henry’s face. He’d grab hold of his arm to lead him out but then Henry would start laughing crazily and his eyes would flash black or red. Sam would drop his arm and back away, then run off to the sound of Henry’s laughter and the whole process would be repeated over and over and over again...
Then the scene changed and Crowley appeared in front of him. ‘Ah Sam, welcome to my humble home! I believe you’re looking for Henry Winchester? Well, here he is!’ He beckoned to someone behind him and Henry strolled forward. ’Hello, Sam!’ he said and he smiled but there was something not quite right about it. It looked like it had been painted on rather than a natural smile. Still Sam lifted his arm, ready to shake hands with Henry but then Henry’s eyes flashed red and his grin changed to a scowl as Sam’s hand dropped and he stepped back, shaking his head in denial.
‘What, no greeting for your grandfather?’ Crowley said in mock surprise. ‘You do surprise me, Sam! But you’ve got plenty of time to get reacquainted down here. We want you to be our guest for a long time – long enough to appreciate Henry again. He only took oh about twenty years down here to turn into a demon, but then he wasn’t a hunter like you. You’re made of sterner stuff, but then again, you’re already well down that path with all the demon blood you used to drink! It will be interesting to see how long it takes you, won’t it? My guess is it’ll be about the same time as your grandpappy and once you’re part of our family I’ll let you visit your brother…’
Sam roared, ‘no!’ and sat up in bed, sweating. He felt sick and disoriented and looked at his watch. Only 3am and he probably wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep now. He got up for a glass of water and saw Dean’s door was closed and he remembered it had been open a little earlier, when Dean went out for a drink – so he was back then. Suddenly he felt the need for company; he needed to hear another voice, especially the concern he knew he would hear in his brother’s.
He knocked gently on the door, and called, ‘Dean,’ softly but there was no reply. He opened the door a fraction and in the dim light from the hallway he could see that Dean was lying on top of the bed with his hands interlocked behind his head and his legs bent slightly at the knees. He didn’t move at all at Sam’s interruption so he closed the door and went back to his room. Sam whiled away the next few hours trying to read, unsuccessfully. Once it was full daylight he got up and went back to Dean’s room. He knocked again and there was still no answer but this time he opened the door and went in.
‘Dean? Sorry, Man, I just wanted to talk to you,’ he said as he walked over to the bed. Dean hadn’t moved at all – his hands were still behind his head and he hadn’t got into bed – and his eyes were still closed. There was a faint half-smile on his face.
‘Hey, did you have a heavy night?’ Sam asked him, gripping his shoulder. Sam could feel a chill in his fingers coming up through Dean’s shirt. He leaned back and exhaled sharply. Dean still didn’t move and Sam leaned forward and lowered his head. He gripped both of Dean’s shoulders and winced at the sudden chill he now felt in both hands. He shook him gently at first, then harder.
‘Dean, c’mon, wake up, damnit!’ Dean’s head moved just a little from side to side with the force of Sam’s shaking but he still didn’t wake up. ‘C’mon, Dean, please!’ he said again, uncertainty creeping into his voice now. Hesitantly he reached out with his fingers and felt Dean’s neck. He recoiled involuntarily and shook his head in denial at the icy coldness of Dean’s skin.
‘No… It can’t be! You can’t be de…’ he said as he tried to suck air into his chest, which felt suddenly constricted as if he had been plunged into freezing cold water. His breath was hitching as he tried to calm his heart which had just decided to join forces with his lungs against him and his hand was shaking as he gently put it back on Dean’s neck to check a second time for a pulse. There wasn’t one. He lowered his head to Dean’s chest but he couldn’t hear a heartbeat either. Sweat dripped from his face as he put his hand over Dean’s mouth but he couldn’t feel him breathing, and lifting his eyelids he saw Dean’s eyes were gray-misted, out of focus.
He slumped to his knees on the floor next to the bed. ‘Dean…’ he started to say but he couldn’t continue. He bowed his head as his eyes filled with tears and fell onto the side of the bed. He stayed like that for a while and then he looked up at Dean and tried to smile at him, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. He lifted Dean’s head gently, pulling first his left arm out from under and then his right arm. He laid them both carefully at Dean’s sides and then he straightened his legs out. Dean’s body was just starting to stiffen up now. He knelt down again and picked up Dean’s right hand. Dean’s smile was still there and Sam was glad of it.
‘I guess you just went in your sleep, Bro,’ he said. ‘…I never could have thought… I mean, it’s what every Hunter wants, right? … But not now, it’s way too soon…’ He started crying again.
‘Was there something wrong with you that didn’t want to tell me about?’ he asked, his voice cracking. ‘I’ve been so wrapped up in the Trials lately…’ He paused and lowered his head for a few moments and then he looked up at Dean again. ‘Thanks for always being there for me, Dean… I’m sorry I haven’t always been there for you… You’ve been the best big brother anyone could ever have…’ He lifted Dean up and hugged him, hard, and then he laid him down carefully and placed his hands across his middle. He got up and covered Dean carefully with a fresh sheet and walked to the door. As he was about to leave the room he turned back and said, ‘I’ll find out what happened to you, Dean, I promise… and if anything or anyone has done this to you, I’ll take care of it, that’s a promise!’ He left the room, wiping his face again and closed the door softly behind him…
Dean could feel the wall resist him slightly but then he was inside it and could see the paneling surrounding him and even passing through his body. He felt he was solid but his eyes told him otherwise. He could feel Tessa’s hand slipping out of his as his footsteps had slowed and he looked up to see her looking back at him. She seemed about to say something but then she smiled at him – a deep, concerned, completely human smile – and he felt none of this mattered. He just needed to trust her, so he smiled back faintly, gripped her hand firmly again and walked alongside her, matching her footsteps.
Soon the wall vanished and they were in a wasteland. Everything was shades of ochre – yellow through to deep oranges and browns – from the sandy floor to the stunted trees growing in twisted, fantastic shapes either side of the sunbaked, dried path, up to the sky, which was a deep dark lemon color shot through with clouds the color of silted mud. Near the horizon there was a smudge of deepest orange which might herald the sunrise. The place was a desert, he could see that now, and they were the only two people in it…
‘What’s this place?’ Dean asked Tessa.
‘Don’t you know?’ she asked him, surprise in her voice. ‘You’ve been here before, so I’ve been told.’
Dean shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think…’ he started to say but she stopped his words as she reached up and kissed him for a long moment. Images he’d never seen before whirled around his head and he gasped and swayed as she released him.
‘What did you just do to me?’ he asked.
‘Just helping you to remember,’ she said innocently.
‘I’ve never heard it called that before,’ he said, looking at her steadily and she colored and turned away. He looked around.
‘Is the sea somewhere near here?’ he asked, turning around on the spot to see if he could see any landmarks in the distance.
‘Yes, it’s ahead of us,’ Tessa replied, pointing along the path to somewhere that was out of sight for now.
‘…I think I might know this place,’ he said, hesitantly, ‘if we can get to the sea…’
She smiled at him. ‘Well, that’s where we’re heading’ and they carried on walking…
Dean’s watch still read 2am and he realized it must have stopped when he left his body.
‘Damnit! This is just a piece of junk now,’ he said.
‘Don’t worry, it will start working again when you go back, Dean,’ she laughed.
He stopped and looked at her curiously. ‘What’s goin’ on, Tessa? Isn’t it about time you told me why I’m really here?’
She stopped as well and turned towards him. ‘The Boss told you what we’re trying to do here, Dean.’
‘Well, yeah, but why me?’ he asked. ‘I mean, one of you guys could go in an’ sort things out, couldn’t ya? Or Death? – He went into Lucifer’s Cage to get Sam’s soul back.’
‘It’s not that simple, Dean,’ she said.
‘It never is,’ he said, ‘but try me,’ and he grinned at her. She couldn’t help but grin back at him.
‘Well, after Bobby was rescued by Sam, Crowley moved Henry to a secure place, one where we can’t get to.’
‘But Death can go anywhere!’ he said.
‘Normally, yes, but Crowley found a spell which stops him. It’s a one-time only spell and it covers a very small area, but it’s protected against anything, well almost anything,’ she said.
‘So that’s where I come in,’ he said, slowly. ‘You can’t do it so I have to. But why me? I can’t handle Crowley and all his grunts alone. Why don’t you ask the angels? It’s their job to make sure souls are in the right place, ain’t it?’
Tessa hesitated. Dean could see she was trying to look for the right words. ‘…Since your angel friend, Castiel, killed all those angels in Heaven last year, everything is in …disorder. The Boss felt He couldn’t …trust them with this job. He knows you and respects you…’
‘Yeah, right!’ Dean interrupted.
‘He does, Dean!’ she replied. ‘The Boss wouldn’t say that, of course, but you and Sam sent Lucifer back to his Cage, freeing him from Lucifer’s control, and then there was that test at the hospital, when you sent that young girl off to Heaven… Even when you put that spell on Death when you tried to make Him kill Castiel, he was secretly amused at your …”impudence and nerve”, I think He said to me later.’
‘Well, you could’ve fooled me!’ said Dean. ‘It felt like he almost killed me when we were in that bar earlier.’
‘Dean, if He wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be here now – well, you would be but you get my meaning! He was just teaching you a lesson, but that doesn’t alter what He thinks of you… Anyway, it was also necessary to have someone who’s been here before because that means there’s no problem with me bringing you back now, and this is a secret way into Hell that no-one knows about, except Death and I, and now you as well.’
‘What, not even Crowley?’ he asked, disbelief plain in his voice.
‘Not even Crowley,’ she said.
‘I still think there’s more to this than you’ve told me,’ he said, staring at her.
‘Maybe,’ she shrugged, ‘but I’ll tell you when you need to know, Dean.’
‘Well, there’s still the problem of me gettin’ past Crowley and all his grunts.’
‘You don’t have to, Dean! This isn’t meant to be a suicide mission. We know where Crowley will be for the time it takes you to rescue Henry and the weapon The Boss gave you will help you get past any demon.’
‘How?’ he asked.
‘The sickle makes you the same as me while you’re holding it, and more! We are both invisible to demons – they can’t see or hear us or read our thoughts – and they can’t possess us as long as we keep holding these blades,’ and she raised her sickle in the air. It was similar but not exactly the same as Dean’s. He reached over and touched it, raising his eyebrows at her. She shrugged again and handed it to him. He looked at it intently, turning it over and over. The metal was the same he felt, but he couldn’t say why he thought that, yet the finish was subtly different – again, nothing he could pinpoint, just something he felt in his gut. The markings, they’re like, well like …”runes” flashed through his mind. He looked up and could see her smiling faintly.
‘Yes, I sent that thought to you,’ she said inside his head. ‘You can hear me and I can hear you, when you want me to,’ she said.
‘Well, what am I thinking now?’ he said in his head. He smiled at her and framed the thought, ‘you’re hot, Tessa!’ but he tried to keep it hidden from her.
She turned pink. ‘I don’t know but I can guess!’ she thought back to him, and he could see inside her it was the truth.
He relented and thought, ‘sorry, I was just thinking how good you look,’ back to her, and she relaxed.
‘The sickles kill demons too,’ she said to him in her mind.
‘Well, OK then, let’s get goin’,’ he thought to her. ‘I’d like to get back before Sammy finds out I’m dead,’ and he strode off towards the still-hidden sea…
…Sam was sitting at the table, his head in his hands. He’d been sitting there like that for an hour with a cold cup of coffee hiding underneath a film of brown skin beside him. He’d tried using a talking board to see if he could contact Dean but he’d had no luck. He’d also tried using a summoning spell to see if he could raise Dean’s spirit that way but again it was a no-show. He racked his brains but there was nothing else he could think of, except maybe…
He leaned forward, put his hands together and closed his eyes.
‘Cas, I need your help now. It’s about Dean and it’s urgent. It’s not a trap – I promise. You can hide the angel tablet away; I’m not interested in it. Just come, please? I don’t know where else to turn?’ He opened half an eye but no-one was there. He sighed and went to make himself a fresh cup of coffee. He’d have to decide what to do about Dean soon. Should he bury him, or burn him? Somehow, after everything they’d faced, they’d never discussed that. He guessed it was because it seemed like tempting fate. His instinct was to bury Dean, hoping somehow he could be brought back to life but he didn’t want to do what he wanted to this time, he wanted to do whatever Dean would have wanted. He owed him that and so much more. He drank his coffee and got up and walked to Dean’s room. Maybe just being near him would help him work out what to do. He opened the door and saw Cas sitting there, at the side of the bed. He had folded the sheet back and he was holding Dean’s right hand. He looked up at Sam who was shocked to see Cas’ face was stained with tears and his eyes were reddened and swollen. He didn’t say anything to Sam, he just turned his head back to Dean, who lay there as peacefully as before. Sam knew he’d interrupted a private moment so he left the room without a word and closed the door. He went back into the kitchen and poured two large whiskies. He downed his in one swallow and then poured another one for himself while he waited for Cas…
Dean and Tessa climbed to the top of a slope and over the rise they saw the sea stretching away from them, sparkling in shades of tangerine and apricot in the orange glow which was now brightening just above the horizon even as they walked down the other side. The sand was bone-white, fine and soft here and they skidded as they stepped down. Tessa gasped as she stumbled on a stone and she started to fall but Dean reached out and grabbed her and they were suddenly pressed against each other.
‘Steady!’ he said, to her. He could feel her heart racing and her face was flushed as she looked up at him.
‘I’m OK,’ she muttered, but she stayed close to Dean for a while. They separated reluctantly and Dean held her hand as they walked down. She didn’t object; she moved closer to him. At the bottom, Dean lifted his right hand to shade his eyes against the sun now lifting above the sea in a yellow-orange haze. A long way down the beach he could make out a building and although it was dwarfed by distance, the shape of it leaped out at him and joined with the memory Tessa had returned to him.
‘I remember this!’ he said. ‘I came here about six years ago, when Sam was possessed,’ he said. ‘I met someone in that place down there. It was a bar… He helped me...’
He looked around and saw Tessa was sitting on a big slab of rock, looking out to sea. She didn’t say anything and he went over to join her.
‘What’s up?’ he asked, sitting down next to her.
‘Oh, just that I haven’t been here for a long time. I’d forgotten how beautiful it can be,’ she said. She was resting her chin on her hands which were clasped together. She turned to look at him and her dreamy expression surprised him.
‘Do you ever feel you just want to leave everything behind – go away and never come back?’ she asked. He was about to make some throwaway remark but he could see she was serious.
‘I used to,’ he admitted. ‘When Dad told me I might have to kill Sam, y’ know, if he turned evil? Well I wanted to take off, shut it all out, pretend me and Sammy were just normal folks. But you can’t. It’ll always find you out ‘cause what you’re runnin’ away from is usually inside you.’ Her gaze sharpened for a moment and then she smiled.
‘That’s what the Boss tells me,’ she said. She made a good job of mimicking Death’s voice: ‘responsibility can’t be denied, you know’ and then she switched back to her own voice. ‘That’s what He says, and I guess you’re both right.’
‘Who’d have thought it, me and Death agreeing on something,’ he said, smiling at her.
She lifted her hand to his face and leaned forward to kiss him. Dean felt her soft, warm lips and he responded to her touch, opening her mouth and thrusting his tongue inside. She pushed her tongue inside his mouth and he could feel her shiver but she leaned further into him until she was pressed up hard against him, wrapping her arms around his neck while he caressed her. He felt her shiver with pleasure again and his excitement rose too. He helped her to undress, kissing her all the while, and then she reciprocated. They held each other close, feeling, exploring every inch of each other’s bodies, and then Dean laid her down gently on the rock. He knelt down over her, kissing her softly, then harder, pulling away then returning, stroking her all the while. He saw the desire in her eyes, which he knew must be mirrored in his own and felt her reach up to touch him. Her eyes sparkled in anticipation and they made love.
‘There’s no such thing as time here, Dean,’ he could hear her in his mind, briefly. They made love for seconds or for centuries – they couldn’t tell which afterwards – and they opened their minds to each other so they could share their pleasure fully. Neither one wanted it to end, but even here they couldn’t escape who they were and eventually they had to return to the present. In mutual unspoken agreement they brought it to a climax as the tide was almost lapping at the rock. Lightning seemed to flash through their minds as their feelings and pleasure and exhilaration exploded within each other, made all the more powerful by their sharing, and then everything went dark. They held each other silently, clinging together against what they knew lay ahead…
…Sam was waiting at the table for a long time before he heard Cas come out of Dean’s bedroom. He was surprised he didn’t fly straight to the kitchen but when he saw Cas’ face he realized why. It was gray and for a second he looked very old, even ancient. It wasn’t anything about his face – that was just the same on the surface – it was something underneath, Sam decided. Cas walked slowly over to the table. He picked up the glass of whisky and downed it in one and then he walked back to where the whisky bottle was and brought it back to the table. He placed it unsteadily in front of him and slumped down into the seat. He sat staring at the bottle and then he poured a glassful of whisky and swallowed that too. He never uttered a word, he just stared straight ahead.
Sam cleared his throat. ‘Cas, thanks for coming… I’m sorry it was a shock for you… I just didn’t know how to tell you…’
Cas stayed silent.
‘Cas…’ Sam started, but Cas turned his face towards him and Sam flinched at the anguish and anger mixed on his face. The anguish he could understand but the anger? – That seemed directed at him.
‘What did you do this time, Sam?’ he asked bitterly. ‘What did you make Dean do to try and save you?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ said Sam defensively. ‘I haven’t asked Dean for anything…’
Cas lowered his head and placed the heels of his hands over his forehead. ‘Let me take a wild guess… You did the Second Trial and it’s injured you more than you were prepared to admit to Dean, and now he’s gone and done something very dangerous, maybe even stupid…’ He looked over at Sam again and there was a disdain in his expression that he’d never seen before.
‘Cas, I have no idea…’ he started to say, but he realized he did. Part of him knew exactly what Cas was saying to him. ‘Look, Dean may have guessed I’m worse than I told him but…’
Cas cut across him. ‘Of course he did! You can’t keep that a secret. You wouldn’t let him kill a second hellhound to retake the First Trial and now, well he’s desperate to save you. He’d do anything; you more than anyone should know that!’
’What do you mean?’ Sam asked.
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? Dean sold his soul for you once before and he died just to try and find a way to bring your soul back from Lucifer’s Cage, remember?’ There was a biting edge of sarcasm to his voice which made Sam flinch. He lowered his head and looked at the table.
Cas’ voice softened. ‘If only you’d talked more to your brother…’
‘I didn’t think…’ Sam started to say. His voice was strained. ‘So what’s happened to him?’
‘I don’t know, and that’s a problem, maybe the biggest problem,’ Cas replied. ‘There’s nothing wrong with Dean’s body but he’s dead. His soul has been … ripped out as far as I can tell.’
‘Well where is he then?’ Sam asked.
‘I don’t know,’ said Cas. ‘I went up to Heaven but he’s not there. I’d have felt his presence... And I sneaked into Hell but he’s not there either. I have no clue where he is, so I can’t bring him back even if his soul is still intact.’ He looked over at Sam and he could see unshed tears glittering in Cas’ eyes. ‘He’s my brother too, Sam, and I can’t help him. He looked away but Sam saw tears fall down his face before he heard the beat of wings and Cas disappeared…
Sam sat at the table, staring straight ahead. Cas blamed him and he could see why. It was his insistence that he be the one to carry out the Trials. He knew how desperately Dean wanted to do them but he’d ignored him and just carried on. Even when he thought they were too much for him he still didn’t confide in Dean – not really. He must have been blind not to see the effect this would have on his brother.
‘I’m so sorry, Dean, to have driven you to this! Please come back,’ he said out loud. ‘I need you. Cas needs you.’ There was no answer of course but he prayed for Dean; he prayed that he would come back safely from wherever he’d gone to. One thing had been answered though. He knew he had to bury Dean, had to keep his body intact in case…
Dean and Tessa were sitting side by side, dressing.
‘What happens now?’ he asked her.
‘Well we go down to that building and make an entrance into Hell,’ she said. She touched his face. ‘I never dreamed it could be like that,’ she said.
He leaned over and kissed her. ’It was amazing,’ he said. He took her hand and kissed her again. ‘So are you, Tessa,’ and he pulled her into his arms. He held her there like that for a long time and then he kissed her and gently released her. He stood up and smiled. ‘We’d better go and get this thing done.’ He held his hand out to her and she took it and got up, reluctantly he thought. Her smile was uncertain as she walked with him down the beach to the bar.
It didn’t take them long to walk there even though the bar looked so far away. Time really didn’t seem to exist here he thought and his mind flashed back to the memory of making love with Tessa. It was something he’d never forget and he thought she wouldn’t either but he wondered what made her do it. Yes, they were attracted to each other – had been since the first time they met years ago – but she’d never given him any real encouragement and after all, she was a reaper and he was human. Maybe it was this place, or something to do with the question she asked him about responsibilities? Anyway, they had other things more pressing to think about, like saving Henry...
Dean pushed the door open and went in first. The bartender was in the same place behind the bar, polishing glasses, just as he was when Dean last walked in. Only this time I’m dressed, Dean thought, drily. He walked up to the bar and sat on a barstool. Tessa, who’d been walking silently behind him, did likewise.
‘Hello, Dean!’ he said, as cheerful as ever. ‘Do y’ want a beer? And your friend, the reaper – what’s your pleasure, ma’am?’
Dean looked at Tessa and she shrugged. ‘Two beers will be fine,’ he said. ‘Best beer I ever tasted,’ he said to Tessa when the bartender brought them over. He pulled on the bottle. ‘Just as good as I remember!’ he said with satisfaction. Tessa wrinkled her nose at the smell but she managed to take a swallow. Dean laughed at the foam on her upper lip and his efforts at wiping it off caused them all to smile.
‘Well, what can I do for you, Dean?’ the bartender asked, opening a second bottle for him. ‘Always a pleasure to see you but I don’t think this is a social call, is it?’
‘No, it ain’t,’ said Dean, slowly. ’Tessa, d’ you want to explain?’
‘We need to get into Hell to free a soul who’s trapped there. Crowley has him locked up and Dean is going to get him out,’ she said.
‘I see,’ the bartender said carefully. ‘Why aren’t you asking the angels to do that? It’s their job.’
‘Well, the Boss thinks that might be difficult with the …situation in Heaven ... and Dean is the man’s grandson so if there’s a problem, he might be able to help.’
The bartender shot Dean a sharp glance. ‘Explained everything has she?’ he asked.
‘Explained what?’ said Dean.
‘So you haven’t,’ the bartender said flatly to her.
Dean turned to look at Tessa. ‘What’s he talkin’ about?’
She looked uncomfortable. ‘Dean, there is another reason why Death asked you. She held her hand up as he looked angrily at her. ‘I meant all I said before. Death really does think you’re the best man for the job but if Henry has been turned into a demon or is on that path, he’ll need your help to save his soul, otherwise he won’t be able to go to Heaven.’
She colored under Dean’s look of disappointment. ‘You could’ve trusted me, Tessa,’ he said quietly. ‘I would have come with you anyway, for Sam’s sake and for Henry’s – he’s family.’
‘I’m sorry, Dean,’ she said, reaching out to hold his hand. ‘Death made me promise not to say anything until we were here… I wanted to tell you… Look inside my mind and see for yourself.’
Dean looked and saw she was telling the truth. ‘Any more secrets, Tessa?’ he asked.
‘No, that’s it,’ she said, smiling uncertainly at him.
He reached over and pulled her into his arms and she sighed with relief.
‘So, how do we get into Hell then?’ Dean asked them both.
‘If the bartender allows it,’ and she nodded to him, ‘we’ll cut our way into Hell from here.’
‘How?’ asked Dean, intrigued.
‘The sickles can work together to cut a hole between here and Hell. This world and Hell are right next to each other in this place. The hole will seal up after we go through but we can reopen it from the other side to get back.’
The bartender came out from behind the bar.
‘I’m not sure I can allow it,’ he said slowly. Dean looked up and saw his serious expression.
‘Why not?’ he asked.
‘I’m not supposed to get involved or take sides,’ the bartender said. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I hate Crowley – he’s a sneaky little sonofab*tch – but still…’
‘Look, Man,’ said Dean. ‘You helped me before and that b*astard has my grandfather tied up deep inside Hell, tryin’ to turn him into a demon. All we’re askin’ is for you to let us go through,’ and he spread his hands in appeal.
The bartender looked at him steadily for a while, then he turned to Tessa and said, ‘tell your Boss not to make a habit of this, Tessa. It won’t work next time, not even if you bring Dean back with ya.’
‘Thanks,’ said Dean gratefully.
The bartender smiled back briefly but then his face became serious again. ‘Don’t thank me until you get back. You’ve hard choices ahead of you, Dean.’ He turned to Tessa. ‘Look after him, girl.’ He hugged them both and then said, ‘now get outta here! I’ll have some beers on ice for when you get back, Dean!’ and he turned away and went back behind the bar.
Tessa lifted her sickle and said, ‘watch me; copy what I do,’ to Dean. She drew a complicated figure of eight pattern in the air and Dean did the same with his, next to hers. As he looked, a black line – a crack – appeared in the air in front of them, about seven feet off the ground, and then it rushed down to the ground. Tessa touched it with her sickle and made a motion to Dean to do the same and the crack widened top to bottom in a flash to become an entrance, devoid of any light, about four feet wide. Dean put his hand inside cautiously and it disappeared in the dark. Suddenly he grimaced and shouted out in pain and Tessa and the bartender looked at him with horror and fear in their faces, but then he drew his hand back and it was fine. He doubled over, laughing hard.
The bartender started laughing and Tessa joined in too.
‘Sorry, I couldn’t resist that!’ he gasped.
‘You’re such a child, Dean!’ she said.
‘I know,’ he replied, grinning at her.
Stepping in there for real wasn’t so funny though. Dean walked in without a backward glance but Tessa looked back and saw the grim look on the bartender’s face. She wished she hadn’t…
Sam had waited for another two days, hoping Dean’s soul would return but he didn’t. He’d tried again to summon his brother but it didn’t work and he’d pored over books in their library, looking for a way to trace a lost soul and reunite it with its body but there was nothing. He kept returning often to see Dean, trying to draw some comfort just from being near him, but each time he pulled the sheet back he could notice subtle new changes in Dean – he could see what death was doing to him inch by inch. The last time Sam had gone to see him, Dean’s face was like a waxwork and Sam realized he couldn’t see Dean any more. All he could see was the empty shell which was all that remained of his big brother and that thought was too painful for him to bear. For the first time he noticed a faint but unmistakable odor of decay coming from Dean’s body. He tried praying again to Cas to ask him if he’d found out anything but Cas didn’t answer so he went and sat with Dean one last time.
‘Dean, I can’t wait any longer for you to come back but I’m going to bury you nearby and I’ll keep a watch for you.’ He placed his hand over Dean’s. I’ll come and see you every day, Bro, I promise, an’ I’ll keep on trying to get you back this time.’
…Sam buried Dean out back under the few secluded trees behind their place. It took him a long time as he had no energy at all and even just digging a shallow grave exhausted him. No-one else was there. The only one Sam invited was Cas and he didn’t show. Sam still hoped Dean would return and having people come to the funeral would make it somehow more real and Dean’s return less so…
…Dean and Tessa found themselves in a deep gloom, shot through with irregular flashes of red. They did little to illuminate their surroundings, serving only to dazzle their eyes whenever they thought they were adjusting to the dark.
‘What are these flashes?’ Dean stopped and whispered to Tessa.
‘I think they mark souls turning into demons,’ she said directly into his mind.
‘So one of them could be Henry?’ he whispered again.
‘Yes,’ she said out loud. Dean didn’t say anything but his shoulders tensed. ’The light from the bar behind them, which had been growing steadily fainter as they traveled on, suddenly winked out.
‘The opening has sealed itself,’ Tessa said in his mind again. Dean stopped ahead of her as he waited to get his night vision back. Strangely, it seemed he could see a lot better now.
‘That’s because we’re right into Hell now,’ he heard her say in his head. ‘Before, we were just halfway between the two worlds.’
‘So, how do we find Henry?’ he whispered out loud.
‘I can take us to him,’ she whispered back, ‘but there’s no need to whisper, Dean, no-one down here can hear us.’
‘Well, lead on then,’ he said loudly, and he swept his hand down in front of her, inviting her forward. She smiled and walked in front of him.
‘I’d rather be back here watching you anyway,’ he said in her mind as she passed him, and she elbowed him casually.
‘Hey!’ he said, ‘that hurts,’ but he could see she was smiling inside her head.
They walked on. Several times they saw a demon walking towards them and they shrank back against the walls but each time the demon walked past without any indication of seeing them.
‘This looks like it’ll be a walk in the park,’ he thought to her.
‘Maybe, but let’s wait until we see what state Henry’s in,’ she said. He looked inside her and saw how worried she was, which sobered him.
Story Copyright © 2013 Spnfanforever