Fic: When In Lebanon (Sam/Dean) Part 2 of 3

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*****

Sam dreamed how it would all happen. Using the bear, it would work, it had to, and they’d be happy. He’d finally be able to persuade Dean to retire. In his dream they’d even moved away from the bunker, turning it over to their mom and new-Bobby. He woke up to reality with his brother thrashing next to him in the bed like he was drowning in the middle of the ocean.

“Dean, c’mon wake up,” Sam said, shaking Dean’s shoulder.

Dean kept thrashing for a few more seconds and then seemed to give up. Like he’d gone limp and was doing a deadman’s float, face-down in the water. He also wasn’t breathing. Sam sat up in a panic. He shoved at Dean’s shoulder more violently.

“Dean! This isn’t fucking funny, c’mon wake up, now!” Sam shouted, continuing to panic.

He was just about to start doing the beginning steps of CPR when Dean’s eyes slowly opened and he took a hesitant breath, like he was afraid he’d still be breathing water.

“I’m up, I’m up, why are you yelling?” Dean had the audacity to ask.

“You were thrashing like you were drowning, and then you went limp, you weren’t breathing. It was almost like you drowned in your sleep.”

“Don’t remember it,” Dean said, his eyes closing against the fear Sam couldn’t hide in his eyes.

“Was it Michael?” Sam asked, hesitant to even voice the question, to say the name out loud in the quiet darkness of his room.

“Probably…hope not,” Dean mumbled, pretending to go back to sleep.

Sam sighed and flopped over, he checked the readout on his phone, only ten minutes until the alarm was set to go off, he disabled it. Decision time, either tell Dean why and where he was going, or make up a story and tell him the truth afterwards. Usually the latter was the go-to choice, but after yesterday, and this thing just now with Dean maybe dying in his dreams—it seemed like he had to take the chance to be truthful. Maybe it might even affect the outcome.

“I’m flying to Chicago today, I’ll be back tomorrow,” Sam said. “It has to do with something I think can help us with the Michael situation.”

“You weren’t going to tell me,” Dean said, turning over in bed, facing away from Sam.

“No, I wasn’t, because I was figuring you’d try to stop me, or talk me out of it.”

“Just like me going up to Donna’s cabin, not telling you why. I get it, so why tell me now?” Dean rolled back over, landing on his back, staring at the ceiling,

“Because of yesterday, and what just happened this morning. I’m feeling like honesty’s the best policy. It’s the bear, according to the ledger we picked up along with all that stuff from the pawn shop, it’s used as a stand-in for human sacrifice.”

“And we’re out of options for Michael, so you’re already onto dark magic, which of course means Rowena. Where are you meeting her?”

Dean was good, always so good at putting the big picture together. “Yeah, I’m meeting her in Chicago today. She’s bringing the Big Book, she has a couple options that might work.”

“If this bear thing means we can somehow do a dark magic spell without killing anyone, then I’m all for it,” Dean said.

“Seriously?” Sam asked, alarm bells went off in his belly, it must be a whole lot worse keeping Michael locked down than Dean had let show. Of course, Dean would put as much effort into keeping his struggle hidden than the actual struggle itself.

“Yeah, if it’s not going to boomerang and hurt you, then why the hell not? It’s not like we’ve turned up any other leads, and I promised you I wouldn’t go and lock myself inside that box, right?”

“You did, and I didn’t give you credit, I assumed you’d just say no to trying something like this. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a normal situation, right? So, I can’t do what I normally would do. Yeah, give me some credit, I know I’ve got to give you a lot of leeway to solve this. Just promise me, don’t make any deals or sacrifice yourself, okay?”

“Promise, been there done that, we’re doing things differently now.”

“Still saving each other’s bacon though,” Dean said.

“You better believe it, when it’s fine quality bacon like this,” Sam said, grabbing Dean’s ass and pulling them together under the covers. “I have fifteen minutes before I need to leave for the airport.”

“Well then, we better figure out a good way to give you something to remember me by,” Dean growled. “Don’t want you hooking up with Gabriel’s leftovers now do we.”

“Don't talk about her like that, she’s helping,” Sam said. “And I don’t think about her in that way at all.”

“She could make you do anything,” Dean said. “You know how powerful she is. I don’t like you seeing her alone.”

“Dean, we owe her, like it or not. And she’s still helping, even though she doesn’t need to, give her some credit. And you can come with if you want to, you just have to fly.”

“It’s only like ten hours in the car,” Dean said.

“I already bought the ticket, non-refundable,” Sam said.

“It’s not really our money, who cares?” Dean asked.

“I need to meet her today, that’s what we arranged,” Sam said.

“Tell you what, I’ll fly if I can sit next to you,” Dean said. “Otherwise I’m driving and I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re right, you should be there for this, since it’s about you. I’ll text her, see if she can meet us here instead.”

Sam: Change of plans, would it be possible for you to come here?

Rowena: That’s easier actually, Dean going to be gone I assume?

Sam: No, I told him. He’s on-board, wants to be in on the convo

Rowena: My how you two have grown up these days, it’s disgusting really

Sam: When can you get here?

Rowena: Around five pm I think, just in time for cocktails.

Sam: Dean says he’ll make you a Witchy Woman

Rowena: ??? I’ll try anything once

Sam cancelled his plane reservation and snuggled back under the covers with Dean who’d almost fallen back asleep after suggesting the cocktail choice.

Dean’s hands moved in slow circles on Sam’s back, almost lulling him to sleep, but awakening a need that he hadn’t realized he had. Being honest about his intentions had something to do with it, he needed to be honest with his body too. He rolled Dean over onto his back and covered him completely with his own body. Dean groaned with the feeling of their bodies aligning so naturally, clicking into place like they always had.

“Do you have any idea, Dean?” Sam murmured, kissing Dean’s ear and nipping at his neck.

His brother didn’t say anything but spread his legs wide and let Sam press them together even closer. His hands never stopped their caressing gentle touches, the skin on Sam’s back hummed and burned, delicious and alive with the feeling. Sam leaned over and grabbed the lube off the bedside table and warmed some up in one hand, coating his fingers he pressed them in, one at a time, teasing and slow, until Dean writhed desperate and silently begging.

“Would do anything for you,” Sam murmured, kissing Dean deep and hard, emphasizing the control he had over Dean in that moment. “Want to give you everything, Dean.”

Again Dean didn’t answer, but he flipped them over and inched up Sam’s body, raising himself up and then slowly sinking down on Sam, bringing him inside where he belonged. Dean held him there for the longest time until Sam was desperate to move, held him with his body, clamped down tight, and his eyes, the silent conversation they shared was everything. Sam didn’t want to miss a moment of that.

Finally Dean began to move, in slow, almost languid rolls of his hips. Sam let him have it this way, because Dean was actually taking what he needed. If Dean needed slow desperate sleepy sex, then that was what he was going to get. Sam’s hands held onto Dean’s hips, caressing the bone under his soft skin with his thumbs, pressing in hard to leave his mark. Dean hissed with the feeling and gripped Sam tighter deep inside, rippling waves along Sam’s length. The feeling made Sam groan with pleasure, Dean had so much control in this position, it was amazing.

“Sammy, don’t ever want to stop,” Dean said in between panting breaths.

Sam’s eyes roved over Dean’s face, capturing all the nuances of bare emotion and expression that Dean usually kept hidden. “So then don’t, keep going, I’m with you.”

Dean groaned and bowed his head, moved his hips faster, pressing himself against Sam’s belly for the friction. Sam reached down and gripped Dean with one hand, wrapping him up tight, pulsing his hand in time with Dean’s thrusts. Dean never faltered, never changed to a faster tempo like Sam expected, he just went on and on, desperate, and sleepy and relentless.

They usually finished faster than this, Sam could tell that Dean needed more, he needed this extra time to take his pleasure, or maybe something else. “I need…” Dean gasped out, struggling to get the words out past the spiraling pleasure.

Sam tightened his hand on Dean, twisting at the head slightly when Dean pressed into his grip. “I’ve got you, Dean.”

Dean’s hips stuttered and ground down onto Sam, releasing between their bellies, hot and sudden. Dean clenched hard and tight all around Sam where he was still moving deep inside. Sam struggled to thrust one, two more times, releasing with a relieved sigh. They lay there in a daze together for a long time, Sam still inside Dean, still holding Dean in his hand as he gradually went soft again. Dean’s hands moved in Sam’s hair, petting and tugging it gently. Sam didn’t want to move or think or do anything.

“Don't ever want to get out of this bed,” Dean said, laughing when his stomach growled loudly.

“I have energy bars in here if you want one,” Sam offered.

“Bite your tongue,” Dean said, an automatic response, he never ate Sam’s energy bars, it was a principled stand based on his contention that you had to eat real food when you had a kitchen.

“Pretty sure you already did,” Sam said. “I’m getting up though, I have to get prepared for Rowena. Batten down the hatches, hide all the good stuff, you know.” Sam escaped Dean’s clutches to stand up from the bed.

“Oh god, I’d already blocked that out that she was coming today. Guess we don’t want her finding us in bed like this.”

“What do you think, does she know about us, Rowena?” Sam asked.

“Given the comments she’s made over the time she’s known us, what Crowley probably told her and what she’s seen us actually do for each other, yeah, she knows,” Dean said.

“And still she teases anyway, like she doesn’t know I’m yours,” Sam said.

“She teases about a lot of stuff, it’s just how she communicates,” Dean said. “I try to ignore it mostly.”

“Mostly—except for when you’re bitching to me about her,” Sam said.

“Yeah, you gotta keep your pet witch under better control or something, man. Otherwise she can’t be in the Scooby gang.”

“She probably would have loved doing that, the whole Scooby-doo thing,” Sam said.

“Would she have even known what it was though?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know if she’s really caught up on her 70’s kids tv shows, good point,” Sam said.

***

They used the bear, oh hell yes did they ever.

Rowena arrived with her satchel filled with spell ingredients just as Dean had mixed up the Witchy Woman cocktails. Both Sam and Dean were a little bit woozy from the blood loss fro the spell preparations so they only had one each.

“Are we doing this tonight then, boys?” Rowena asked as she drained the last of her cocktail.

“Yeah, it’s a little time sensitive now,” Sam said.

“Oh really, what’s changed?” Rowena asked.

“He’s gettin’ to me, in my sleep,” Dean admitted. “Sam says I drowned this morning.”

Sam squeezed Dean’s shoulder, glad that his brother was able to be honest about how much they needed Rowena’s help. Hopefully that’d keep her on their side long enough to get this done. That and him just basically outing them with that confession, now she definitely knew.

Rowena smiled, sly and very amused at both of them. “Ah, you two, I hope you never change.”

Dean lifted his glass in her direction and then clinked it to Sam’s. They finished their drinks, smiling around the rims at each other. Yeah, she knew.

“So where’s the bear of the hour, eh?” Rowena asked.

Sam stood up and pulled a towel wrapped bundle towards him. He carefully unwrapped it, uncovering the bear.

“Where are those special gloves?” Dean asked.

“I’m not touching it,” Sam said, mildly irritated to be interrupted while he had the chance to see it,

“I’m gettin’ them, don’t touch that thing,” Dean said, striding out of the room.

“Has it ensnared ye then, Samuel?” Rowena asked, nodding towards the bear.

“I…I wouldn’t say that exactly. It’s not a compulsion, well, not always. But it doesn’t get far away from my thoughts.”

“Then there’s more than one reason to do the spell right away,” Rowena said, unpacking some of the items from her bag. She waved a silver stiletto in his direction then pointed it at the bear. “The spell should remove the hold the wee thing has over you—in theory.”

“What has a hold over you? The bear, really you have a thing for that thing?” Dean asked, appearing at Sam’s side and handing him the magic-proof  gloves.

“That thing is going to save your ass from Michael, show it a little respect,” Sam said, reaching out to touch the bear. Dean snatched his hand away.

“Use the gloves,” Dean said with a low growl of command.

“Yes, sir, of course, sir,” Sam said with a mock salute. He pulled the gloves on, one by one, instantly pining for a touch of its worn fur. It had been so long since he’d felt that softness, hours and hours, he barely remembered it now.

Rowena smiled at the two of them and then cleared her throat to get their attention. “Now, the blood you two have given, is for purposes of this spell known as the Blood of the Vessels. The spell translates to specify that it is vessels who have both said yes. It’s important that for the spell to work that the blood was freely given from beings who have given their permission to be possessed by an angel.”

“Any angel?”

“Yes, angels are apparently not at all picky. Once they’ve heard a yes, it’s a yes for all time, for any and all angels.”

“So our blood is going to make the bear into a vessel. What is this, the transitive property of angelic consent?” Sam asked.

“Yes, exactly, it should be enough to convince Michael that the bear is a vessel, so he’ll possess the bear instead of Dean, or you,” Rowena said, pointing the sharp, thin and very shiny silver stiletto at each of them in turn. “And finally there is this beauty. It’s believed to be created from a piece of an angel’s blade, it’s been passed down through many witch families over the years. I’ll use it to direct Michael’s grace into the bear.”

“What’s that smell?” Dean sniffed as she waved it in front of his face.

“It had to be pre-treated with holy oil and prayers. I’m guessing you’re only recognizing the holy oil,” Rowena snarked.

Dean scowled and took a few steps away, grumbling to himself.

“Let’s get going shall we? Dean, you sit over here, I’ll hypnotize you so you can get inside your head to let Michael out, best to be seated for that, eh?”

Sam stood next to the ritual bowl with the containers of their blood and the lined-up measurements of the various herbs and other ingredients for the spell. He watched Dean across the table as Rowena approached. He could see the fear and worry on Dean’s face. “It’s going to work, Dean.”

Dean looked at him and nodded, he then turned his attention fully to Rowena as she dangled a shiny charm in a hypnotic rhythm in front of his eyes. Her low tones were soothing and also rhythmic, Sam had to shake himself out of the torpor that rolled up over him like a warm blanket right out of the dryer. He concentrated on the bear instead, holding onto it he could feel the thrum of its power even through the gloves. He unbuttoned the container in the belly to get it ready for its role in the upcoming spell.

“While your brother attempts to pull the angel out, let’s get the container filled-up and ready, shall we?”

Sam had to work at it for a moment, but he yanked his hand away from the bear and nodded to Rowena. He was feeling anxious to get this over with, it had to work, he had to save Dean. Because his brother was not ending up down on the bottom of the sea locked up in that damn box for all eternity with an archangel.

Rowena stood next to him, so tiny and still commandingly powerful. She made a series of complicated movements with her hands that he couldn’t quite follow and murmured some words in a language he felt might be Latin but were probably something far older. She elbowed him and he poured the containers of their blood into the ritual bowl. There were more hand movements and words spoken more loudly this time, again she elbowed him, so he dumped the ingredients in, one by one from right to left. Herbs and bones and various animal parts, a handful of grave dirt and a few other things he didn’t want to examine too closely.

Rowena produced a small flame in one hand, which she sent drifting into the ritual bowl, it lit the atmosphere above the blood into a purple haze and then it all collapsed into a glistening deep carmine red. It pulsed with the power of several heartbeats in time with Sam’s own. She elbowed Sam again, and he hastened to pick up the bear and hold open the container in its belly.

He joined her in chanting the phrase ontziaren odola until she had poured the last of the disgusting mixture into the belly of the bear. He kept chanting the words as he buttoned up the double fastenings and held the bear against his own belly. As they waited for Dean to let Michael out, Sam had to keep chanting the words. After he had filled the bear with their blood, it felt heavier and heavier, weighing almost as much as a cat who’s sat on your lap for too long. Sam’s hands shook as they ran over the buttoned up double enclosure in the bear’s belly. His fingers twitched and danced away from the fur, he couldn’t let himself indulge, not in the middle of this, not while Rowena and Dean were here and could see what the bear meant—what it could do, did do to Sam. He managed to set the bear down on the table in front of Rowena where it needed to be for the next part of the spell. His hands ached at their emptiness.

Rowena was calling to Dean, in some language that seemed to write itself in the darkened air between them, the words writhing and pulsing with her breath. Dean was shaking, his hands gripped around the edge of the table, knuckles gone white with pressure, his jaw tight with pain and concentration. Dean was deep into his own mind, he had to be close to opening the door he’d kept locked for weeks. He had to let Michael out. Rowena’s words flowed between them in a steady stream, Dean’s head buffeted back by their onslaught and his face changed, morphing into the familiar sly smirk of the archangel.

The very moment that Michael surfaced, before Michael could do anything, Rowena stabbed the bear right in the head with the stiletto blade. The angel grace swooped out of Dean’s body, yanked right out of his eyes, nose and mouth and into the belly of the bear in a gush of blue light, making it glow much too brightly for them to even be able to look at the thing.

Rowena drew the stiletto out of the bear’s head and waited. Nothing happened after a few tense moments, she poked at the belly of the bear with the tip of the stiletto, but still, nothing happened. The bear just laid there glowing at them with the contained grace of an archangel, it’s stitched-up face expressionless just as it was before. The new hole in its head glowing blue with angel grace.

“God-damn, we fucking did it,” Dean said and then he fainted. Sam caught him before his head could hit the floor.

****

Part 3