Yeah I know we needed to know why Dean and Sam are the Angel brother’s true vessels but I also wanted to see what happened immediately after the boys were zapped back to 2010.
The Song Is Still Playing
When Michael said Sam was home safe and sound, Dean expected to find his brother sitting on the floor dazed and confused, not curled up in a ball, unconscious, pale and barely breathing. Fearing Sam was going into shock he reached towards to the closest bed, a sudden fiery pain in his ribs halted him in mid-reach. Drawing in shallow breaths and wrapping an arm around his chest, he slowly reached out again and tugged the comforter and blankets down on top of his shivering brother. Evidenced by the pain in his ribs, Michael hadn’t been too concerned about any underlying trauma after healing their more visible injuries before sending them back to the future. ‘Again in my case,’ Dean thought, as he rolled Sam onto his back. Seeing no signs of blood around the large tear in Sam’s green and mustard yellow striped shirt, he quickly unbuttoned it and pulled up the torn and also blood-free t-shirt underneath. He sighed with relief; the only indication of the horrible stab wound was a dark red, blue and purple bruise the size of his hand. Tugging the t-shirt back down, Dean sat next to his brother and hauled him up so his head was lying on the older man’s thigh. Then he pulled the bedclothes over Sam before relaxing against the bed and letting his head fall back onto the mattress. “Freakin’ angels.”
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Unimaginable pain filled his stomach, he felt the rough texture of the rusty pipe in his hands, a coppery tasting liquid filled his mouth, trickled down into his lungs and it hurt to breath. Sam knew he was dying, skewered by an angel who he’d considered a friend; until she decided the best course of action to stop Lucifer’s plans was to kill him and failing that, his parents, along with as it turned out, an unborn baby Dean as well. Small gasps for air turned into pain filled coughs, squeezing his eyes shut and pulling his knees up, he curled into an even smaller Sammy ball. Expecting Hell to be noisy - screams echoing, the sizzling of roasting flesh, the chanting of demons and etc. - the silence of the place confused him. Sam wondered how long it would be before Alistair’s replacement dragged his ass off to begin inflicting unrelenting torture and torment. Heat penetrated his cold body and his shivering lessened, the agony in his gut gradually faded into severe stomach cramps. He groaned when the hard cushion under his head suddenly shifted.
‘Oh god, Dean’s in Hell with me!’
He tried to turn away when his shoulder was shaken slightly. “Sam?” a warm hand touched his forehead, “you’re okay, we’re back in the motel.”
‘Motel? Hell has motels?’ Sam cracked his eyes open then winced, wrapping his arms tighter around his middle as a sharp cramp shot through his stomach. Rolling his head, he looked up into two tired green eyes. “Dean?” He shifted, taking a long look down at his pipe and blood-free abdomen. “Anna…” his eyes skipped nervously around the room searching for the redheaded angel. “Where…how did…what happened?”
“As in Archangel?” Attempting to sit up, Sam groaned as his bruised insides objected and he ended up rolling onto his side instead. “Did you…are you?” he asked fearfully, glancing up through his long bangs.
“No, he was in dad.” Sam gaped and his eyes opened wide in shock.
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Dean’s head fell backwards onto the mattress, “freakin’ angels,” he said closing his eyes. Falling into a light doze, his mind replayed the awful moment when he saw his kid brother with his hands wrapped around a pipe protruding from his stomach. “Sammy!” his voice choked out, while his mind screamed, ‘THERE’S.A.PIPE…A PIPE!…STICKING OUT OF SAMMY’S STOMACH!’ The sight of Sam’s blood…in his mouth and on his lips, froze the blood in Dean’s veins. The look of pain and despair on Sam’s face burned into his brain and his heart broke at the ‘I’m sorry’ in Sam’s eyes before they closed and he slid down the corner post, limply falling over then lying motionless on the debris strewn floor. “Sam!” With Uriel still intent on killing him, Dean couldn’t even tell if his brother was still breathing. Then Michael showed up, wearing a John Winchester meat suit no less, deep fat fried Anna and sent Uriel packing. Yet did he fix Sammy like he was told to do? Of course not. While his brother lay in an ever-widening pool of blood, the dickless wonder…Michael - Archangel of the Lord, wanted to freakin’ talk. Bloodlines? Cain and Abel? God’s plan - no free will - only destiny. If he didn’t need Michael to heal Sam, and his dad to…you know…procreate Sam into existence, he would’ve killed the son-of-a-bitch right there.
The movement caused by his brother coughing and reflexively scrunching up into a tighter ball, woke Dean up. Checking the kid’s forehead he thought it felt warmer, he rubbed Sam’s blanket covered arm mainly to help keep himself calm after…after the pipe incident and if it warmed his brother up faster, then great. Sore ribs and a numb butt forced him to shift into a new position. Sam groaned. “Sammy?”
Dean was glad Sam was awake and pretty much coherent but it worried him the way his brother laid on the floor with his arms wrapped around his stomach, the possibility of internal bleeding flashed across his mind. Through long, chestnut brown bangs, wide hazel eyes stared up at him in shock. “After Anna k…after you di…” Dean cleared his throat, “after you were on the floor, Anna headed for mom and that’s when dad…Michael arrived - he crispy fried her with just a touch.”
“So Anna’s dead.”
“As a doornail. He sent Uriel away with a snap of his fingers then he knocked mom out with that two finger thing on the forehead.”
Nodding, Sam slowly pushed himself upright, “Dad said yes,” he sighed and leaned back against the bed, grimacing slightly as his stomach cramped again. “Did Michael spout the same crap as Lucifer? Wait, if dad was possessed by an Archangel how come he wasn’t a candidate for the loony bin?”
“Angels have one track minds, so yeah he did. Michael said unlike his brothers, he wouldn’t leave me a drooling mess when he was done wearing me,” he let out a short laugh, “which is what he did for dad, I guess. He also said he would do mom and dad a favor and scrub their minds; so mom could have her normal life…have us.” Dean scrubbed his hand over his face, “before he zapped us back to the future…”
Sam snickered, “sans DeLorean.”
“Yeah well, banana peels and beer aside, he said the whole Apocalypse was part of the grand plan designed by God. And since we are their and I quote ‘true vessels’ unquote, it is our destiny to say yes, so Michael and Lucifer can have their WWE planetary showdown.”
“Screw that and the angel it rode in on,” Sam replied tiredly, pulling the blankets up and closing his eyes, his head falling back onto the mattress.
“I hear ya.” He could tell Sam was spooked, truth be told so was he, but no way was he letting Michael wear him and no way in hell was Lucifer getting his mitts on his kid brother.
Thinking his brother had fallen asleep, Dean jumped when Sam said quietly, “mom and dad were so full of hope, Dean.”
The older man turned, bumping his brother’s shoulder to get his attention. “That’s why we’re never saying yes to those two bastards, Sam. To honor their memory, we’re gonna keep telling Michael and Lucifer, Zachariah…Raphael…Gabriel - hell, the whole heavenly choir - to shove it where the sun don’t shine. Cause if they want to have a family brawl fine, just have it somewhere else cause we ain’t playin’.”
Sam thought this over for a minute or so before saying, “okay.”
“Good,” Dean replied, unable to stifle a groan as he stood up. “Do you want the shower first?”
“Nah, go ahead. Just wake me when you’re done.”
great story, really shows how they must have felt after such a terrible experience, and I also loved how Dean takes care of Sam :wub: