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Keep This Secret: Part One
Masterlist
***
“I've been thinking about something,” Sam said.
Dean looked up from the massive tome about Hell he’d been perusing, which had many graphic depictions of known torture methods and absolutely nothing about its gates or any trials that could close them. He felt grateful for the distraction. He was not enjoying the trip down memory lane.
“What?” he asked. Sam was frowning. He looked even more serious than usual.
“Adam,” he said quietly.
Dean shut the book and pursed his lips. “Wow,” he said. “Shit, I haven’t thought about him in…” He shook his head. “Too long. Fuck.” He sucked his teeth. “We’re shitty half-brothers, huh?”
Sam smiled slightly, looking pained. “Kind of,” he said. “I mean…So much is always happening, and it was almost impossible to get me out of the cage, even…”
“Not to mention what happened after we did. Both halves of you.”
Sam nodded.
“So what brought this on?” Dean asked.
“Gilda.”
Dean frowned. “That fairy Charlie hooked up with?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh…why?”
“I remembered something.” Sam took a deep breath. “It was from when I was soulless. The thing is, even after I remembered what I did when I didn’t have a soul, and – “ He paused and swallowed. “And the Cage. I remember it – all of it – I mean, I can remember it. But I don’t really try to.”
“Sure,” Dean replied. “I mean, why would you want to?”
“Yeah.” Sam fell silent for a moment, then took another breath. “Anyway. Those memories aren’t always that close to the surface, if that makes sense. But, when we saw Gilda – you remember the last time we tangled with fairies?”
Dean froze for a second, then sat back in his chair, affecting nonchalance. “Sure,” he said. “My super fun abduction experience.” He grabbed the beer sitting on the table near him and took a big swig.
“Good times,” he concluded, banging the bottle down.
Sam gave him a brief frown, then nodded. “Right. That time. I was thinking about it, and I remembered something the leprechaun said to me.”
“Oh?”
“He said he could get my soul from the Cage.”
Dean nodded. “I remember that too. But you didn’t take the deal.”
Sam shrugged. “I figured it was bullshit,” he said. “Or not worth whatever he’d ask in return. And, soulless me wasn’t entirely sure he even wanted his soul back at that point.”
“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “I could tell.”
“Anyway, that worked out – as well as things tend to for us – and I never thought about it again. But now…”
“You’re wondering if he could get Adam out,” Dean finished for him. Sam nodded. “I mean…soulless you probably had the right instinct, don’t you think? Whatever he’d want for payment, it wouldn’t be good.”
“Probably not,” Sam agreed. “But – it seems like something we should at least look into.” His jaw set. “It’s not right, just leaving Adam in there. He’s our brother. And even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t deserve to rot in the Cage forever.”
Dean nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “And I guess we’ve got some time, while Kevin works on deciphering the trials. But, I mean – where do we even start?”
“Summon the leprechaun?” Sam said. “See what he has to say?”
“If we summon him, won’t he try and take all the firstborns again, or whatever?”
Sam shook his head. “Not if we don’t make a deal, I don't think. There’s risk, obviously, but…” He swallowed. “We have to try, Dean. I can’t stop thinking about Adam being stuck in the Cage. With Lucifer.” He looked at Dean with pleading eyes.
“Okay,” Dean said quickly. “Okay, man.” He glanced around the library. “Well, we’ve got all these fucking books. There’s gotta be a fairy summoning spell in here somewhere, right?”
***
“What’s his name?” Dean asked, an hour later. He was nose-deep in one of the books on fairy lore they’d found in the Men of Letters’ collections.
“What?”
“The leprechaun. What’s his name?”
Sam thought for a moment. “Um…when he was pretending to be human, he was going as Wayne. Wayne Whittaker.”
“Doesn’t really sound like a fairy name.”
“Not so much. Why?”
“This book has a few summoning spells, but you need the fairy’s name for it.”
“Makes sense,” Sam said. “All the lore I’m reading says names are a big deal to fairies. There’s power in them. That’s partly where the story of Rumpelstiltskin comes from.”
“Damn it,” Dean muttered. He shoved the book aside and opened another.
Hours later, they still hadn’t found a summoning spell that would work without the fairy’s name.
Dean slammed his book shut and rubbed his face. “God damn it,” he said.
Sam sighed and pushed his own book a couple inches away. He stared into space, brow furrowed.
“What about Gilda?” he said suddenly.
“What? What about her?”
Sam shrugged. “We know her name – I mean, I think we do. Maybe we should try summoning her. We helped free her from that LARPing creep who was siccing her on people. From what I’ve read, owing someone a favor is pretty important in fairy culture. Maybe she’d help us get Adam. Or at least find Wayne.”
Dean blinked. “Huh…” he said. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Sam smiled. Dean could feel his own spirits rising a little, just seeing Sam’s face brighten.
“I should do a grocery run,” Dean said. “Get some cream. Maybe it’ll put her in a good mood. Everything says they love that shit.”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Remember how much the watchmaker was buying?”
“Exactly.” Dean got up from the table. “Okay, I’ll get the cream. You go through the Men of Letters’ stores, see if they’ve got everything we need. Text me if there’s anything I can grab at the store.”
***
Sam finished the incantation. Almost immediately, Gilda appeared in the circle he’d drawn. She looked surprised when she saw them.
“Hello,” she said, confusedly. “You’re Charlie’s friends, aren’t you? Sam and Dean?”
“That’s us,” Dean said. He held out a mug of fresh cream. “Um, you want some refreshments?”
Her eyebrows went up, but she accepted the mug and took a small sip. “Thank you,” she said. “Is everything all right? I was just with you the other day.” She frowned, looking worried. “Is Charlie okay?”
“She’s fine,” Sam assured her.
“What do you mean, you were just with us?” Dean asked. “That was weeks ago.”
“Oh, yes.” Gilda’s faced relaxed. “Time moves differently between our realms. How silly of me.” She raised her mug at them. “I’m a lightweight.” She giggled prettily.
Dean grinned, charmed. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam shoot him a look, but he didn’t look back.
“Gilda, we were hoping you could help us with something,” Sam said.
“Of course,” she said immediately. “I am in your debt. I know you helped free me, even if Charlie did most of the work.” She smiled fondly, looking down.
Dean grinned wider. “Yeah, she did.”
“And,” Gilda continued, “I owe you an apology, for helping my former master attack you.” Her smile was gone, and she looked at them solemnly. “I am so sorry. If there is some service I can do to make it up to you, I would be very glad.”
“We know it wasn’t your fault,” Sam said quickly.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “But we do still need a favor.”
“Name it, please,” Gilda said earnestly. “If it is in my power to grant it, I would like to assist you.”
“Can you pull people out of Hell?” Dean blurted out.
“It’s our brother,” Sam said. “He’s stuck in this cage in Hell, with two archangels. We…we have to get him out.” Dean’s throat felt tight at the look of desperation on his brother’s face.
Gilda looked serious. “I know of the Cage you speak of,” she said. “I’m sorry, but it’s beyond my power to rescue him.”
Sam sighed. “Well, there might be a second option,” he said. “We met another fairy once. A leprechaun. He may be able to help us.”
“Do you know his name?” Gilda asked.
“No, or we would have just summoned him,” Sam said. “But he went by Wayne Whittaker when we met him. He was posing as a human – a UFO enthusiast.”
Gilda nodded slowly. “I think I know who you mean,” she said. She paused. “He…he is not a good fairy, as I am. Are you sure you want his help?”
“Hell no, we’re not sure,” Dean put in. “But we have to talk to him. See if we can strike a deal that’d be worth it.”
“I understand,” Gilda said. “I will take you to his castle, if you are determined to go there. Shall we leave tomorrow morning?”
“Our tomorrow morning, or yours?” Sam asked.
Gilda laughed, a sound like chimes tinkling. “Yours! I will be sure to track the time carefully. Say, dawn?”
“How about nine a.m.?” Dean said quickly. Sam rolled his eyes, but Gilda nodded.
“Very well,” she said. She drained her glass and handed the cup back to Dean and curtsied. “Thank you for your hospitality.
“Tomorrow morning, do we need to summon you, or…?” Sam asked.
“Oh, no,” Gilda said brightly. She glanced around the library. “I have been here. I can find my way back.”
“This place is warded – ” Sam started, but she shook her head.
“Not against me,” she said. “But I will need you to release me from the circle.”
Sam glanced at Dean, who hesitated but gave a quick nod. Sam smudged the circle with his toe. Gilda smiled at them and curtsied again, then vanished.
Dean looked at Sam. “Guess we better pack,” he said, a little grimly. They moved as one towards their rooms.
“You think that was a good idea?” Dean continued.
“I think we can trust her,” Sam replied. “She’s given us no reason not to.”
“Still,” Dean muttered. “She says she’s good, we’re just supposed to assume that’s true?”
Sam shrugged helplessly. “What other choice do we have?”
Dean made a disapproving noise. “The second we get back from Fairyland, we need to look into warding this place against those sparkly motherfuckers.”
***
That evening, Dean came into the library to find Sam hunched over at the table with a glass of whiskey in one hand. His chin rested in the other.
“Uh oh,” Dean said. “Don’t think I don’t recognize those brooding and pensive shoulders.”
Sam didn’t say anything. Dean felt slightly more alarmed. He quickly poured himself a drink and sat down across from his brother with affected nonchalance.
“All right, what’s up, mopey?” he asked.
“We should be going at dawn,” Sam muttered.
“What?”
“Gilda offered to take us at dawn. We should’ve said yes.”
“Hey, I need my beauty sleep. Anyway, it’s only like four hours later. What the fuck difference does it make?”
“Time differences,” Sam said, so softly Dean strained to hear him.
“What – between here and the fairy realm?”
Sam shook his head. “Four hours is…” He finally raised his eyes to Dean’s, and the pain in them made Dean’s stomach hurt. “It’s so much longer in Hell.”
Dean shivered reflexively. He took a quick drink, swallowing the memories as he swallowed the whiskey, burning as it went down his throat.
“I know, man,” he said. “Look, I feel shitty about Adam, too. But we’re doing something, okay? It probably wouldn’t get him out any faster, anyway.”
Sam sighed and nodded. “I just…we have to be careful, Dean.”
“Of the fairies? Yeah, of course. We won’t take the deal if it’s obviously crap, and we’ll look for tricky loopholes and shit that they might try to – ”
“No,” Sam interrupted. “Of us. We have to be careful. We get so wrapped up in each other’s stuff – ”
“Oh, don’t get into that codependent crap,” Dean groaned. “The way we were raised, it’s just – we are what we are, right? And look, I gave you an out. You could’ve gone back to Amelia.” His stomach lurched as a painful possibility occurred to him. “What, are you wishing you’d made a different decision?”
Sam’s face was so sad. “No, Dean,” he said sincerely. “I don’t wish that at all. I chose this. I want to be here with you.”
Dean’s insides unclenched a little as he nodded to Sam in acknowledgement. It was a relief to hear, especially when he was enjoying settling into the Men of Letter’s bunker with Sam so much.
“I just don’t want other people to get caught in the crossfire,” Sam continued. “I mean…I want to avoid it as much as possible. We should try and be careful. The way we get tunnel vision when it comes to each other. That’s why it’s taken so long for us to get to Adam.”
“Well, there was also saving the world a couple times,” Dean pointed out.
Sam nodded in agreement and downed the rest of his drink. He rose from the table.
“I’m going to try to get some sleep,” Sam said. He patted Dean’s shoulder as he walked by.
Dean felt a little warm as he watched Sam leave; from the alcohol, he figured. He knew he should try and get some rest too, but something in him didn’t want to go to sleep. He stayed up for another hour, drinking and surfing the Internet before finally heading to bed.
As he slept, Dean dreamed.
A bright white light shone around him from above. Suddenly he found himself in an unfamiliar room, mostly dark, with a stone table off to the side. He spun around wildly, slashing with his knife, but he stopped when he saw Sam.
Sam smiled. The familiar sight of it made Dean’s chest ache. It had been so long since Sam had smiled like that; since Sam had been himself.
But hands were pulling him towards the table. Dean started hacking with his knife again and firing off shots.
***
Promptly at nine a.m., Gilda reappeared in the bunker’s library. Sam and Dean were waiting for her, duffel bags slung over their shoulders.
“Good morning,” Gilda said with a pleasant smile. “Ready?” They nodded. She took hold of one of each of their biceps.
The bunker dissolved. There was a bright light and a sound like rushing air. When the light faded, they were standing at the edge of a dense forest. There was a castle about a quarter-mile away. It was dusk in the fairy realm, a startling contrast to their expectations. Sam and Dean looked around, getting their bearings.
“Does it look like you remember?” Sam asked Dean, smiling slightly. Dean didn’t smile back.
“I just saw the inside of some room,” he replied gruffly. He realized that Gilda was staring at him with wide eyes.
“You’ve been here before?” she asked.
“Yeah, some fuckers tried to abduct me from a cornfield. I mean – they did abduct me, but I was too much trouble, and they gave me back.”
Gilda’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no,” she said. “This is very bad.”
“What?” Sam and Dean asked together. In the distance, they heard the baying of hounds. Gilda grabbed their hands.
“Run!” she said, pulling them down a small dirt path towards the castle. Sam and Dean followed as quickly as they could. Despite the fact that they were much taller than she was, they found themselves short of breath as they tried to keep up.
Dean risked a look behind him to see large goblins with clubs emerging from the trees. There were dogs with them, scenting the air. The dogs barked and bounded after them.
Dean’s heart seized with panic at the sight of the dogs. He plunged a hand into his pocket, which he’d filled with salt before they left – maybe it would work on fairy dogs, too, or at least slow down the goblins – only to find it empty. He cursed and forced himself to put on another burst of speed.
“Sanctuary!” Gilda called, as they pounded into the castle’s courtyard. “Please, I claim sanctuary for the Hollow Forest!”
“Granted,” said a tiny voice, coming from a spot of light hovering in the air a few feet away from them. Dean glared at it, remembering his last encounter with a fairy like that. He tried to see if this one was bare-breasted, too, but it was too far away.
“I will fetch my lord,” the fairy continued. It vanished.
Dean groaned, bending over with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “I hate those things,” he growled.
“What just happened?” Sam asked Gilda. She looked distressed.
“Your brother has been claimed,” she said. “Marked as fairy property.”
“Excuse me?!” Dean interrupted.
“You were taken, from a land that was under an agreement? First-borns were to be sacrificed?”
“Something like that,” Dean admitted.
“If it was the leprechaun you described, you were taken for Oberon.” Dean stiffened at the name. Sam frowned at his reaction, but Dean didn’t meet his eyes. “Oberon is the great king of all of the fairy realm. His power is practically limitless. He will want to take you into his service. It was his enforcers and his dogs that were chasing after us.”
“Nuh-uh,” Dean said, shaking his head. “They sent me back.”
“And never came after you again?”
Dean hesitated. “Well…there was one of those little Tinkerbell-looking ones with nipples that I had to take care of. And then a redcap.”
“But we reversed the spell,” Sam said. “We sent the fairies back. And that was two years ago, and we haven’t had any run-ins since.”
“Two years in the mortal realm is not long for us,” Gilda said. “I expect that they simply had not gotten around to it yet. But they would have sensed you coming into our world.”
“Fuck,” Dean said, feeling his face pale.
“And what was the sanctuary thing?” Sam asked.
Gilda pressed her lips together. “It is an ancient law of fairy hospitality. For three days, we will be protected here. No one can harm us and they will not be able to give you up to Oberon. They will have to protect us if his hunters come calling, even. But we cannot leave during that time, and nothing prevents the lord here from telling Oberon to be ready when your three days are up. And we cannot harm anyone here, either, or the sanctuary is void.”
“Hear that?” Sam said to Dean.
Dean’s eyes widened. “Why are you asking if I heard that?” he demanded.
Sam sighed. “It’s just, you can be a little trigger-happy,” he said. “And you always want to fight everyone.”
Dean glared at him. “I do not!”
“Fine,” Sam said. “Just try to keep a lid on things, okay? I don’t want to offend someone and get you offered up to service Oberon before we even have a chance to try and come up with a plan!”
“Do you two ever have an actual plan?” came a voice from behind them. They whirled around to see the leprechaun they’d known as Wayne Whittaker. He pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against and looked at them with his head cocked. “As I recall, you – ” he glanced at Dean “ – were just wandering around a cornfield when we found you.” He looked at Sam and his expression turned sour. “And you have a lot of nerve, showing up here after you sent me away from the land of Indiana like that.”
“You were kidnapping people!” Sam said.
“Which I had every right to do, under the terms of the deal I had struck.” The leprechaun narrowed his eyes, gaze raking Sam up and down. “I see you have your soul back. Is that why you’ve become so much more foolish?”
“That’s kind of what we’re here to talk about,” Sam said. “We want to – we are considering making a deal with you. If you can get us what we want and if you want something we’re willing to give.”
The leprechaun raised his eyebrows and his face suddenly broke into a wide salesman’s smile. “A deal? Well, why didn’t you say so?” He clapped his hands on their shoulders. Dean made a face. “Come in, my boys, come in! You and your fair escort. Let’s make you comfortable.”
***
The leprechaun led the three of them to a small room hung with richly colored tapestries. Dean noticed that if he stared at the scenes on the tapestries for too long, the figures started to move. He quickly looked away.
In the middle of the room was a sofa and several armchairs around a low table.
“What should we call you?” Sam asked, as the leprechaun motioned to them to take a seat. He and Dean took the sofa, which was small enough that they were basically hip-to-hip.
Dean tried to give Sam a little elbow room – the dude was so damn tall that his elbows never fit anywhere – but gave it up after a few seconds. It felt kind of better to have his brother close, anyway. Dean was really not enjoying his return trip to the fairy realm. This Oberon issue was going to give him an ulcer.
Gilda sat in an armchair off to the side and the leprechaun took one across from the sofa. He smiled pleasantly at them.
“You knew me as Wayne, didn’t you?” he said in response to Sam’s question. “Let’s stick with that.”
“Is that your real name?” Dean asked. Wayne’s smile widened. He shook his head.
“So, tell me,” he said. “What is it you’d like to strike a deal for?”
“When we met a couple years ago, you told me you could get my soul from the Cage,” Sam said. “Was that true?”
“Yes, it was,” Wayne replied. Sam and Dean glanced at Gilda for confirmation.
“He would not lie about a trade he was hoping to make,” she said. “And he could not strike a bargain he was unable to complete.”
“But you already have your soul,” Wayne said. “That’s obvious to anyone with eyes.”
“Not that we’re agreeing to anything yet,” Sam said. “But our brother is still in there. Theoretically – could you get him out?”
“Of course,” Wayne said immediately. “Any other terms?”
Sam and Dean glanced at each other.
“Alive,” Dean said quickly.
“Body and soul,” Sam said. “We need both, not just one.”
“Oh, and Lucifer and Michael are in there, too,” Dean added. He grimaced. “You can go ahead and just leave them where they are.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Adam Milligan, alive and whole, with no angel tagalongs.” He glanced at Gilda. “Can you think of anything we missed?” She shook her head. Sam looked back to Wayne. “Could you do it?”
Wayne considered it briefly. “I could,” he said. “If the price was right.”
“What do you want, Bob Barker?” Dean said. “Don’t think we’re going to give you any of that fruit of the land crap.”
“Oh, no no no,” Wayne said, waving a hand dismissively. “I know you wouldn’t fall for that. And you seem like the heroic type, so I won’t be foolish enough to ask for something that isn’t a sacrifice of your own.” His eyes flicked back and forth between them, looking them up and down. A smile began to play about his lips.
“Ahhh,” he said. “I see something I want.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “Dude, we’re not gonna – I don’t know what you think we’re going to do, but – ”
“Hush, hush,” Wayne interrupted, his tone soothing. “I’m not going to ask you to do anything. But there is something I want to know.”
“What?” Sam asked.
Wayne’s eyes sparkled. “You two share a secret,” he said. “Some deep, dark truth. The same for both of you. I can see it – ” He pointed with two fingers at their chests. “Just there. But I don’t know what it is.” He narrowed his eyes. A greedy look flashed across his face. “I want it.”
Dean laughed. “That’s it?” he said incredulously. “Some secret?”
“Not some secret,” Wayne snapped. “A specific secret. Buried especially deep inside of you. You may not even be aware that you have it.” He glanced at Sam. “I think your brother knows, though.”
Dean looked at Sam, but his face was neutral.
“Will we remember the secret after we give it to you?” Sam asked Wayne.
Wayne laughed. “Of course! I don’t want the memory.”
“Will we be able to tell others later if we need to, or would it belong to you alone?”
Wayne sighed. “You should be a lawyer,” he said. The corners of Sam’s mouth tugged upward just a little. “No, it is this initial revelation of the secret which gives it its power. It’s a very rare and valuable spell ingredient. I know several buyers who would probably quickly get into a bidding war over it.” He grinned. “Any other questions?”
Sam and Dean looked at Gilda. She shook her head.
“How long do we have to decide, and figure out what it is?” Dean asked.
“I’ll give you a day,” Wayne said.
“What about Dean?” Sam demanded. “He’s supposed to be bound to Oberon, or something – “
Wayne rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. “One deal at a time, young men! We have three whole days to discuss that issue.” He rose. “I’ll call someone to take you to your rooms.” He turned away from them.
“Dude, this is great,” Dean said quietly in Sam’s ear. “We can tell him any stupid thing we make up and get Adam sprung!”
“I hope it goes without saying,” Wayne said, turning back to them, “that you cannot lie to me. I will know if the secret you present is not true.”
Dean huffed impatiently. “Okay,” he said to Sam. “But still, this is good! Way better than the crappy deals we’ve made before. No one has to die or go to Hell…”
Sam was frowning. “I guess,” he said. “I have a bad feeling this is going to come with a price we don’t want to pay. But I guess we always knew a fairy deal was going to be a risk.” He sighed. “If this is what it takes, this is what it takes.”
“You’re crazy,” Dean declared. “This is going to be so easy.”
***
“Why is this so hard?” Dean moaned.
It was hours later. They were in the room that had been given to Dean. Their rooms were right next to each other, but Dean had still complained. (“Shouldn’t castles have suites, with a little kitchenette or something?”) The room had blonde wood paneling and light blue wallpaper, a big window hung with cream-colored curtains, and a large bed in a shining brass frame. Vines with blooming golden flowers climbed the walls, filling the room with a sweet, mild scent. There was even an ensuite bathroom. Dean had scoffed at the décor – especially the flowers – but secretly he thought it was kind of bright and inviting. Nothing he’d want to live in permanently, but nice to visit.
Gilda had retired to a room across the hall, exhorting them to knock on her door if they needed anything. Sam and Dean had been talking since they’d said good night to her. They’d both revealed several embarrassing childhood and teenage thoughts and misbehaviors in the hopes that they had them in common, but nothing had been a match. Dean was pacing the room impatiently as he tried to think.
“I mean, Wayne said it was buried,” Sam said. He was sitting on the bed, back against the wall, one long leg outstretched and the other bent up. “It’s probably something we don’t even think about much.”
“Ugh.” Dean flopped onto the bed and lay on his back next to Sam. “This is ridiculous. How can we have a secret we don’t even know?”
“I have no idea. Anyway, he said you’re the one who might not know. Apparently, I do.” They both fell silent for a moment.
Dean sat up and patted Sam’s bent knee. Sam jumped, looking at him with a guarded expression. His startle threshold had been so low since the Cage, Dean had noticed. And that shit must be all at the surface right now.
“Don’t worry, man,” Dean said. “We’ll figure it out. We always do, right? Two of us against the world.” He snorted, leaning his head back against the wall and folding his arms. “Against the whole goddamn fairy realm.”
Sam was staring at him. After a moment, Dean looked back.
“What?”
Sam looked away. “Nothing,” he said. His face was carefully neutral as he swung himself with measured slowness off the bed. “Listen, I’m beat. I’m going to turn in. We can pick this up in the morning. Okay?”
Dean frowned. “Sure,” he said. “You okay, Sammy?”
Sam, who was already halfway to the door, turned back and looked at him, mouth slightly agape. For just a second there was something unreadable but unmistakably vulnerable in his eyes.
As quickly as the expression appeared, it was gone. “Just tired,” he said. “This has me all spun out. I’ll be okay after I get some sleep.” He gave Dean a smile that seemed forced, and then he was gone.
“Okay, I guess,” Dean muttered to his empty room.
***
Dean dreamed.
Sam was smiling. The familiar sight of it made Dean’s chest ache. It had been so long since he’d seen Sam smile like that; since Sam had looked like himself. But it was him, really him, not the soulless stranger with dead shark eyes Dean had been travelling with for months.
“Sammy?” Dean said, heart pounding.
“It’s me,” Sam said. “It’s okay. Lie down.”
Hands were pulling him towards a table, away from Sam. Dean lashed out with his knife, fired off a few rounds –
Dean awoke with a start, covered in sweat and breathing hard. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he saw that it was 8:07. Earlier than he liked to get up if he didn’t have to, but he wasn’t going to go back to sleep and risk falling into that dream again. With a sigh, he got up and padded into the bathroom. He downed a glass of water, then looked warily at what he thought must be the shower.
Half of the bathroom looked relatively normal: a modern toilet, a mirror on the wall above a white sink. The walls and floor were tiled in white and aqua. The fixtures were old brass. The faucet was shaped like a dolphin’s head, the water streaming out of its open mouth, and the handles looked like starfish, but otherwise, pretty standard. The shower area, on the other hand…
It looked like a tiny cove had been stuck into the bathroom. The tile ended and the walls became rock. The floor was sand, with an inch-deep pool of water which lapped gently in tiny waves. Green plants grew in small deposits of earth on the rock walls. On a little outcropping of rock were a few little glass bottles which, Dean was relieved to see, were labelled toiletries.
But there was no clear way to turn the thing into a shower. Dean undressed anyway and stepped onto the sand, hoping he could figure out when he got a closer look. He would feel like a freaking idiot asking Gilda how to work the damn bathroom.
When his feet hit the fine, soft sand, a stream of water started trickling from above. Dean blinked and took another step into the cove, and the water intensified into a cascade. Suddenly concerned about flooding the bathroom, he jumped back and checked the floor. But the sand at the edge was still dry.
Dean had to admit that sometimes, magic had its perks.
He stepped forward again. The water had stopped flowing when he’d moved away, but as soon as he was back in the cove, it started up again. Dean stood under the waterfall and let it run over him, making a pleased noise at the heat and pressure. He had morning wood, and the feeling of the water on his cock made his hips jerk forward a little, involuntarily, looking for more stimulation. Well, he could do that. He poured a little bit of conditioner into his hand and palmed the underside of his cock gently, sucking in a breath when he reached the sensitive head. He curled his hand around his length completely and gave it a slow tug. Dean let his eyes fall shut –
– and he saw Sam’s eyes, remembered that lurch of painful wanting from the dream. He’d missed the real Sammy so much back then… And then Dean remembered hands grabbing at him from all directions. His eyes flew open and he rinsed his hands off, grimly continuing with his shower and ignoring his erection. It’d go away on its own soon enough.
***
Part Two
***
“I've been thinking about something,” Sam said.
Dean looked up from the massive tome about Hell he’d been perusing, which had many graphic depictions of known torture methods and absolutely nothing about its gates or any trials that could close them. He felt grateful for the distraction. He was not enjoying the trip down memory lane.
“What?” he asked. Sam was frowning. He looked even more serious than usual.
“Adam,” he said quietly.
Dean shut the book and pursed his lips. “Wow,” he said. “Shit, I haven’t thought about him in…” He shook his head. “Too long. Fuck.” He sucked his teeth. “We’re shitty half-brothers, huh?”
Sam smiled slightly, looking pained. “Kind of,” he said. “I mean…So much is always happening, and it was almost impossible to get me out of the cage, even…”
“Not to mention what happened after we did. Both halves of you.”
Sam nodded.
“So what brought this on?” Dean asked.
“Gilda.”
Dean frowned. “That fairy Charlie hooked up with?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh…why?”
“I remembered something.” Sam took a deep breath. “It was from when I was soulless. The thing is, even after I remembered what I did when I didn’t have a soul, and – “ He paused and swallowed. “And the Cage. I remember it – all of it – I mean, I can remember it. But I don’t really try to.”
“Sure,” Dean replied. “I mean, why would you want to?”
“Yeah.” Sam fell silent for a moment, then took another breath. “Anyway. Those memories aren’t always that close to the surface, if that makes sense. But, when we saw Gilda – you remember the last time we tangled with fairies?”
Dean froze for a second, then sat back in his chair, affecting nonchalance. “Sure,” he said. “My super fun abduction experience.” He grabbed the beer sitting on the table near him and took a big swig.
“Good times,” he concluded, banging the bottle down.
Sam gave him a brief frown, then nodded. “Right. That time. I was thinking about it, and I remembered something the leprechaun said to me.”
“Oh?”
“He said he could get my soul from the Cage.”
Dean nodded. “I remember that too. But you didn’t take the deal.”
Sam shrugged. “I figured it was bullshit,” he said. “Or not worth whatever he’d ask in return. And, soulless me wasn’t entirely sure he even wanted his soul back at that point.”
“Yeah,” Dean muttered. “I could tell.”
“Anyway, that worked out – as well as things tend to for us – and I never thought about it again. But now…”
“You’re wondering if he could get Adam out,” Dean finished for him. Sam nodded. “I mean…soulless you probably had the right instinct, don’t you think? Whatever he’d want for payment, it wouldn’t be good.”
“Probably not,” Sam agreed. “But – it seems like something we should at least look into.” His jaw set. “It’s not right, just leaving Adam in there. He’s our brother. And even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t deserve to rot in the Cage forever.”
Dean nodded slowly. “You’re not wrong,” he said. “And I guess we’ve got some time, while Kevin works on deciphering the trials. But, I mean – where do we even start?”
“Summon the leprechaun?” Sam said. “See what he has to say?”
“If we summon him, won’t he try and take all the firstborns again, or whatever?”
Sam shook his head. “Not if we don’t make a deal, I don't think. There’s risk, obviously, but…” He swallowed. “We have to try, Dean. I can’t stop thinking about Adam being stuck in the Cage. With Lucifer.” He looked at Dean with pleading eyes.
“Okay,” Dean said quickly. “Okay, man.” He glanced around the library. “Well, we’ve got all these fucking books. There’s gotta be a fairy summoning spell in here somewhere, right?”
***
“What’s his name?” Dean asked, an hour later. He was nose-deep in one of the books on fairy lore they’d found in the Men of Letters’ collections.
“What?”
“The leprechaun. What’s his name?”
Sam thought for a moment. “Um…when he was pretending to be human, he was going as Wayne. Wayne Whittaker.”
“Doesn’t really sound like a fairy name.”
“Not so much. Why?”
“This book has a few summoning spells, but you need the fairy’s name for it.”
“Makes sense,” Sam said. “All the lore I’m reading says names are a big deal to fairies. There’s power in them. That’s partly where the story of Rumpelstiltskin comes from.”
“Damn it,” Dean muttered. He shoved the book aside and opened another.
Hours later, they still hadn’t found a summoning spell that would work without the fairy’s name.
Dean slammed his book shut and rubbed his face. “God damn it,” he said.
Sam sighed and pushed his own book a couple inches away. He stared into space, brow furrowed.
“What about Gilda?” he said suddenly.
“What? What about her?”
Sam shrugged. “We know her name – I mean, I think we do. Maybe we should try summoning her. We helped free her from that LARPing creep who was siccing her on people. From what I’ve read, owing someone a favor is pretty important in fairy culture. Maybe she’d help us get Adam. Or at least find Wayne.”
Dean blinked. “Huh…” he said. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Sam smiled. Dean could feel his own spirits rising a little, just seeing Sam’s face brighten.
“I should do a grocery run,” Dean said. “Get some cream. Maybe it’ll put her in a good mood. Everything says they love that shit.”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Remember how much the watchmaker was buying?”
“Exactly.” Dean got up from the table. “Okay, I’ll get the cream. You go through the Men of Letters’ stores, see if they’ve got everything we need. Text me if there’s anything I can grab at the store.”
***
Sam finished the incantation. Almost immediately, Gilda appeared in the circle he’d drawn. She looked surprised when she saw them.
“Hello,” she said, confusedly. “You’re Charlie’s friends, aren’t you? Sam and Dean?”
“That’s us,” Dean said. He held out a mug of fresh cream. “Um, you want some refreshments?”
Her eyebrows went up, but she accepted the mug and took a small sip. “Thank you,” she said. “Is everything all right? I was just with you the other day.” She frowned, looking worried. “Is Charlie okay?”
“She’s fine,” Sam assured her.
“What do you mean, you were just with us?” Dean asked. “That was weeks ago.”
“Oh, yes.” Gilda’s faced relaxed. “Time moves differently between our realms. How silly of me.” She raised her mug at them. “I’m a lightweight.” She giggled prettily.
Dean grinned, charmed. From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam shoot him a look, but he didn’t look back.
“Gilda, we were hoping you could help us with something,” Sam said.
“Of course,” she said immediately. “I am in your debt. I know you helped free me, even if Charlie did most of the work.” She smiled fondly, looking down.
Dean grinned wider. “Yeah, she did.”
“And,” Gilda continued, “I owe you an apology, for helping my former master attack you.” Her smile was gone, and she looked at them solemnly. “I am so sorry. If there is some service I can do to make it up to you, I would be very glad.”
“We know it wasn’t your fault,” Sam said quickly.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “But we do still need a favor.”
“Name it, please,” Gilda said earnestly. “If it is in my power to grant it, I would like to assist you.”
“Can you pull people out of Hell?” Dean blurted out.
“It’s our brother,” Sam said. “He’s stuck in this cage in Hell, with two archangels. We…we have to get him out.” Dean’s throat felt tight at the look of desperation on his brother’s face.
Gilda looked serious. “I know of the Cage you speak of,” she said. “I’m sorry, but it’s beyond my power to rescue him.”
Sam sighed. “Well, there might be a second option,” he said. “We met another fairy once. A leprechaun. He may be able to help us.”
“Do you know his name?” Gilda asked.
“No, or we would have just summoned him,” Sam said. “But he went by Wayne Whittaker when we met him. He was posing as a human – a UFO enthusiast.”
Gilda nodded slowly. “I think I know who you mean,” she said. She paused. “He…he is not a good fairy, as I am. Are you sure you want his help?”
“Hell no, we’re not sure,” Dean put in. “But we have to talk to him. See if we can strike a deal that’d be worth it.”
“I understand,” Gilda said. “I will take you to his castle, if you are determined to go there. Shall we leave tomorrow morning?”
“Our tomorrow morning, or yours?” Sam asked.
Gilda laughed, a sound like chimes tinkling. “Yours! I will be sure to track the time carefully. Say, dawn?”
“How about nine a.m.?” Dean said quickly. Sam rolled his eyes, but Gilda nodded.
“Very well,” she said. She drained her glass and handed the cup back to Dean and curtsied. “Thank you for your hospitality.
“Tomorrow morning, do we need to summon you, or…?” Sam asked.
“Oh, no,” Gilda said brightly. She glanced around the library. “I have been here. I can find my way back.”
“This place is warded – ” Sam started, but she shook her head.
“Not against me,” she said. “But I will need you to release me from the circle.”
Sam glanced at Dean, who hesitated but gave a quick nod. Sam smudged the circle with his toe. Gilda smiled at them and curtsied again, then vanished.
Dean looked at Sam. “Guess we better pack,” he said, a little grimly. They moved as one towards their rooms.
“You think that was a good idea?” Dean continued.
“I think we can trust her,” Sam replied. “She’s given us no reason not to.”
“Still,” Dean muttered. “She says she’s good, we’re just supposed to assume that’s true?”
Sam shrugged helplessly. “What other choice do we have?”
Dean made a disapproving noise. “The second we get back from Fairyland, we need to look into warding this place against those sparkly motherfuckers.”
***
That evening, Dean came into the library to find Sam hunched over at the table with a glass of whiskey in one hand. His chin rested in the other.
“Uh oh,” Dean said. “Don’t think I don’t recognize those brooding and pensive shoulders.”
Sam didn’t say anything. Dean felt slightly more alarmed. He quickly poured himself a drink and sat down across from his brother with affected nonchalance.
“All right, what’s up, mopey?” he asked.
“We should be going at dawn,” Sam muttered.
“What?”
“Gilda offered to take us at dawn. We should’ve said yes.”
“Hey, I need my beauty sleep. Anyway, it’s only like four hours later. What the fuck difference does it make?”
“Time differences,” Sam said, so softly Dean strained to hear him.
“What – between here and the fairy realm?”
Sam shook his head. “Four hours is…” He finally raised his eyes to Dean’s, and the pain in them made Dean’s stomach hurt. “It’s so much longer in Hell.”
Dean shivered reflexively. He took a quick drink, swallowing the memories as he swallowed the whiskey, burning as it went down his throat.
“I know, man,” he said. “Look, I feel shitty about Adam, too. But we’re doing something, okay? It probably wouldn’t get him out any faster, anyway.”
Sam sighed and nodded. “I just…we have to be careful, Dean.”
“Of the fairies? Yeah, of course. We won’t take the deal if it’s obviously crap, and we’ll look for tricky loopholes and shit that they might try to – ”
“No,” Sam interrupted. “Of us. We have to be careful. We get so wrapped up in each other’s stuff – ”
“Oh, don’t get into that codependent crap,” Dean groaned. “The way we were raised, it’s just – we are what we are, right? And look, I gave you an out. You could’ve gone back to Amelia.” His stomach lurched as a painful possibility occurred to him. “What, are you wishing you’d made a different decision?”
Sam’s face was so sad. “No, Dean,” he said sincerely. “I don’t wish that at all. I chose this. I want to be here with you.”
Dean’s insides unclenched a little as he nodded to Sam in acknowledgement. It was a relief to hear, especially when he was enjoying settling into the Men of Letter’s bunker with Sam so much.
“I just don’t want other people to get caught in the crossfire,” Sam continued. “I mean…I want to avoid it as much as possible. We should try and be careful. The way we get tunnel vision when it comes to each other. That’s why it’s taken so long for us to get to Adam.”
“Well, there was also saving the world a couple times,” Dean pointed out.
Sam nodded in agreement and downed the rest of his drink. He rose from the table.
“I’m going to try to get some sleep,” Sam said. He patted Dean’s shoulder as he walked by.
Dean felt a little warm as he watched Sam leave; from the alcohol, he figured. He knew he should try and get some rest too, but something in him didn’t want to go to sleep. He stayed up for another hour, drinking and surfing the Internet before finally heading to bed.
As he slept, Dean dreamed.
A bright white light shone around him from above. Suddenly he found himself in an unfamiliar room, mostly dark, with a stone table off to the side. He spun around wildly, slashing with his knife, but he stopped when he saw Sam.
Sam smiled. The familiar sight of it made Dean’s chest ache. It had been so long since Sam had smiled like that; since Sam had been himself.
But hands were pulling him towards the table. Dean started hacking with his knife again and firing off shots.
***
Promptly at nine a.m., Gilda reappeared in the bunker’s library. Sam and Dean were waiting for her, duffel bags slung over their shoulders.
“Good morning,” Gilda said with a pleasant smile. “Ready?” They nodded. She took hold of one of each of their biceps.
The bunker dissolved. There was a bright light and a sound like rushing air. When the light faded, they were standing at the edge of a dense forest. There was a castle about a quarter-mile away. It was dusk in the fairy realm, a startling contrast to their expectations. Sam and Dean looked around, getting their bearings.
“Does it look like you remember?” Sam asked Dean, smiling slightly. Dean didn’t smile back.
“I just saw the inside of some room,” he replied gruffly. He realized that Gilda was staring at him with wide eyes.
“You’ve been here before?” she asked.
“Yeah, some fuckers tried to abduct me from a cornfield. I mean – they did abduct me, but I was too much trouble, and they gave me back.”
Gilda’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, no,” she said. “This is very bad.”
“What?” Sam and Dean asked together. In the distance, they heard the baying of hounds. Gilda grabbed their hands.
“Run!” she said, pulling them down a small dirt path towards the castle. Sam and Dean followed as quickly as they could. Despite the fact that they were much taller than she was, they found themselves short of breath as they tried to keep up.
Dean risked a look behind him to see large goblins with clubs emerging from the trees. There were dogs with them, scenting the air. The dogs barked and bounded after them.
Dean’s heart seized with panic at the sight of the dogs. He plunged a hand into his pocket, which he’d filled with salt before they left – maybe it would work on fairy dogs, too, or at least slow down the goblins – only to find it empty. He cursed and forced himself to put on another burst of speed.
“Sanctuary!” Gilda called, as they pounded into the castle’s courtyard. “Please, I claim sanctuary for the Hollow Forest!”
“Granted,” said a tiny voice, coming from a spot of light hovering in the air a few feet away from them. Dean glared at it, remembering his last encounter with a fairy like that. He tried to see if this one was bare-breasted, too, but it was too far away.
“I will fetch my lord,” the fairy continued. It vanished.
Dean groaned, bending over with his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “I hate those things,” he growled.
“What just happened?” Sam asked Gilda. She looked distressed.
“Your brother has been claimed,” she said. “Marked as fairy property.”
“Excuse me?!” Dean interrupted.
“You were taken, from a land that was under an agreement? First-borns were to be sacrificed?”
“Something like that,” Dean admitted.
“If it was the leprechaun you described, you were taken for Oberon.” Dean stiffened at the name. Sam frowned at his reaction, but Dean didn’t meet his eyes. “Oberon is the great king of all of the fairy realm. His power is practically limitless. He will want to take you into his service. It was his enforcers and his dogs that were chasing after us.”
“Nuh-uh,” Dean said, shaking his head. “They sent me back.”
“And never came after you again?”
Dean hesitated. “Well…there was one of those little Tinkerbell-looking ones with nipples that I had to take care of. And then a redcap.”
“But we reversed the spell,” Sam said. “We sent the fairies back. And that was two years ago, and we haven’t had any run-ins since.”
“Two years in the mortal realm is not long for us,” Gilda said. “I expect that they simply had not gotten around to it yet. But they would have sensed you coming into our world.”
“Fuck,” Dean said, feeling his face pale.
“And what was the sanctuary thing?” Sam asked.
Gilda pressed her lips together. “It is an ancient law of fairy hospitality. For three days, we will be protected here. No one can harm us and they will not be able to give you up to Oberon. They will have to protect us if his hunters come calling, even. But we cannot leave during that time, and nothing prevents the lord here from telling Oberon to be ready when your three days are up. And we cannot harm anyone here, either, or the sanctuary is void.”
“Hear that?” Sam said to Dean.
Dean’s eyes widened. “Why are you asking if I heard that?” he demanded.
Sam sighed. “It’s just, you can be a little trigger-happy,” he said. “And you always want to fight everyone.”
Dean glared at him. “I do not!”
“Fine,” Sam said. “Just try to keep a lid on things, okay? I don’t want to offend someone and get you offered up to service Oberon before we even have a chance to try and come up with a plan!”
“Do you two ever have an actual plan?” came a voice from behind them. They whirled around to see the leprechaun they’d known as Wayne Whittaker. He pushed off from the wall he’d been leaning against and looked at them with his head cocked. “As I recall, you – ” he glanced at Dean “ – were just wandering around a cornfield when we found you.” He looked at Sam and his expression turned sour. “And you have a lot of nerve, showing up here after you sent me away from the land of Indiana like that.”
“You were kidnapping people!” Sam said.
“Which I had every right to do, under the terms of the deal I had struck.” The leprechaun narrowed his eyes, gaze raking Sam up and down. “I see you have your soul back. Is that why you’ve become so much more foolish?”
“That’s kind of what we’re here to talk about,” Sam said. “We want to – we are considering making a deal with you. If you can get us what we want and if you want something we’re willing to give.”
The leprechaun raised his eyebrows and his face suddenly broke into a wide salesman’s smile. “A deal? Well, why didn’t you say so?” He clapped his hands on their shoulders. Dean made a face. “Come in, my boys, come in! You and your fair escort. Let’s make you comfortable.”
***
The leprechaun led the three of them to a small room hung with richly colored tapestries. Dean noticed that if he stared at the scenes on the tapestries for too long, the figures started to move. He quickly looked away.
In the middle of the room was a sofa and several armchairs around a low table.
“What should we call you?” Sam asked, as the leprechaun motioned to them to take a seat. He and Dean took the sofa, which was small enough that they were basically hip-to-hip.
Dean tried to give Sam a little elbow room – the dude was so damn tall that his elbows never fit anywhere – but gave it up after a few seconds. It felt kind of better to have his brother close, anyway. Dean was really not enjoying his return trip to the fairy realm. This Oberon issue was going to give him an ulcer.
Gilda sat in an armchair off to the side and the leprechaun took one across from the sofa. He smiled pleasantly at them.
“You knew me as Wayne, didn’t you?” he said in response to Sam’s question. “Let’s stick with that.”
“Is that your real name?” Dean asked. Wayne’s smile widened. He shook his head.
“So, tell me,” he said. “What is it you’d like to strike a deal for?”
“When we met a couple years ago, you told me you could get my soul from the Cage,” Sam said. “Was that true?”
“Yes, it was,” Wayne replied. Sam and Dean glanced at Gilda for confirmation.
“He would not lie about a trade he was hoping to make,” she said. “And he could not strike a bargain he was unable to complete.”
“But you already have your soul,” Wayne said. “That’s obvious to anyone with eyes.”
“Not that we’re agreeing to anything yet,” Sam said. “But our brother is still in there. Theoretically – could you get him out?”
“Of course,” Wayne said immediately. “Any other terms?”
Sam and Dean glanced at each other.
“Alive,” Dean said quickly.
“Body and soul,” Sam said. “We need both, not just one.”
“Oh, and Lucifer and Michael are in there, too,” Dean added. He grimaced. “You can go ahead and just leave them where they are.”
“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Adam Milligan, alive and whole, with no angel tagalongs.” He glanced at Gilda. “Can you think of anything we missed?” She shook her head. Sam looked back to Wayne. “Could you do it?”
Wayne considered it briefly. “I could,” he said. “If the price was right.”
“What do you want, Bob Barker?” Dean said. “Don’t think we’re going to give you any of that fruit of the land crap.”
“Oh, no no no,” Wayne said, waving a hand dismissively. “I know you wouldn’t fall for that. And you seem like the heroic type, so I won’t be foolish enough to ask for something that isn’t a sacrifice of your own.” His eyes flicked back and forth between them, looking them up and down. A smile began to play about his lips.
“Ahhh,” he said. “I see something I want.”
Dean’s eyes widened. “Dude, we’re not gonna – I don’t know what you think we’re going to do, but – ”
“Hush, hush,” Wayne interrupted, his tone soothing. “I’m not going to ask you to do anything. But there is something I want to know.”
“What?” Sam asked.
Wayne’s eyes sparkled. “You two share a secret,” he said. “Some deep, dark truth. The same for both of you. I can see it – ” He pointed with two fingers at their chests. “Just there. But I don’t know what it is.” He narrowed his eyes. A greedy look flashed across his face. “I want it.”
Dean laughed. “That’s it?” he said incredulously. “Some secret?”
“Not some secret,” Wayne snapped. “A specific secret. Buried especially deep inside of you. You may not even be aware that you have it.” He glanced at Sam. “I think your brother knows, though.”
Dean looked at Sam, but his face was neutral.
“Will we remember the secret after we give it to you?” Sam asked Wayne.
Wayne laughed. “Of course! I don’t want the memory.”
“Will we be able to tell others later if we need to, or would it belong to you alone?”
Wayne sighed. “You should be a lawyer,” he said. The corners of Sam’s mouth tugged upward just a little. “No, it is this initial revelation of the secret which gives it its power. It’s a very rare and valuable spell ingredient. I know several buyers who would probably quickly get into a bidding war over it.” He grinned. “Any other questions?”
Sam and Dean looked at Gilda. She shook her head.
“How long do we have to decide, and figure out what it is?” Dean asked.
“I’ll give you a day,” Wayne said.
“What about Dean?” Sam demanded. “He’s supposed to be bound to Oberon, or something – “
Wayne rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner. “One deal at a time, young men! We have three whole days to discuss that issue.” He rose. “I’ll call someone to take you to your rooms.” He turned away from them.
“Dude, this is great,” Dean said quietly in Sam’s ear. “We can tell him any stupid thing we make up and get Adam sprung!”
“I hope it goes without saying,” Wayne said, turning back to them, “that you cannot lie to me. I will know if the secret you present is not true.”
Dean huffed impatiently. “Okay,” he said to Sam. “But still, this is good! Way better than the crappy deals we’ve made before. No one has to die or go to Hell…”
Sam was frowning. “I guess,” he said. “I have a bad feeling this is going to come with a price we don’t want to pay. But I guess we always knew a fairy deal was going to be a risk.” He sighed. “If this is what it takes, this is what it takes.”
“You’re crazy,” Dean declared. “This is going to be so easy.”
***
“Why is this so hard?” Dean moaned.
It was hours later. They were in the room that had been given to Dean. Their rooms were right next to each other, but Dean had still complained. (“Shouldn’t castles have suites, with a little kitchenette or something?”) The room had blonde wood paneling and light blue wallpaper, a big window hung with cream-colored curtains, and a large bed in a shining brass frame. Vines with blooming golden flowers climbed the walls, filling the room with a sweet, mild scent. There was even an ensuite bathroom. Dean had scoffed at the décor – especially the flowers – but secretly he thought it was kind of bright and inviting. Nothing he’d want to live in permanently, but nice to visit.
Gilda had retired to a room across the hall, exhorting them to knock on her door if they needed anything. Sam and Dean had been talking since they’d said good night to her. They’d both revealed several embarrassing childhood and teenage thoughts and misbehaviors in the hopes that they had them in common, but nothing had been a match. Dean was pacing the room impatiently as he tried to think.
“I mean, Wayne said it was buried,” Sam said. He was sitting on the bed, back against the wall, one long leg outstretched and the other bent up. “It’s probably something we don’t even think about much.”
“Ugh.” Dean flopped onto the bed and lay on his back next to Sam. “This is ridiculous. How can we have a secret we don’t even know?”
“I have no idea. Anyway, he said you’re the one who might not know. Apparently, I do.” They both fell silent for a moment.
Dean sat up and patted Sam’s bent knee. Sam jumped, looking at him with a guarded expression. His startle threshold had been so low since the Cage, Dean had noticed. And that shit must be all at the surface right now.
“Don’t worry, man,” Dean said. “We’ll figure it out. We always do, right? Two of us against the world.” He snorted, leaning his head back against the wall and folding his arms. “Against the whole goddamn fairy realm.”
Sam was staring at him. After a moment, Dean looked back.
“What?”
Sam looked away. “Nothing,” he said. His face was carefully neutral as he swung himself with measured slowness off the bed. “Listen, I’m beat. I’m going to turn in. We can pick this up in the morning. Okay?”
Dean frowned. “Sure,” he said. “You okay, Sammy?”
Sam, who was already halfway to the door, turned back and looked at him, mouth slightly agape. For just a second there was something unreadable but unmistakably vulnerable in his eyes.
As quickly as the expression appeared, it was gone. “Just tired,” he said. “This has me all spun out. I’ll be okay after I get some sleep.” He gave Dean a smile that seemed forced, and then he was gone.
“Okay, I guess,” Dean muttered to his empty room.
***
Dean dreamed.
Sam was smiling. The familiar sight of it made Dean’s chest ache. It had been so long since he’d seen Sam smile like that; since Sam had looked like himself. But it was him, really him, not the soulless stranger with dead shark eyes Dean had been travelling with for months.
“Sammy?” Dean said, heart pounding.
“It’s me,” Sam said. “It’s okay. Lie down.”
Hands were pulling him towards a table, away from Sam. Dean lashed out with his knife, fired off a few rounds –
Dean awoke with a start, covered in sweat and breathing hard. He ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his eyes. Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he saw that it was 8:07. Earlier than he liked to get up if he didn’t have to, but he wasn’t going to go back to sleep and risk falling into that dream again. With a sigh, he got up and padded into the bathroom. He downed a glass of water, then looked warily at what he thought must be the shower.
Half of the bathroom looked relatively normal: a modern toilet, a mirror on the wall above a white sink. The walls and floor were tiled in white and aqua. The fixtures were old brass. The faucet was shaped like a dolphin’s head, the water streaming out of its open mouth, and the handles looked like starfish, but otherwise, pretty standard. The shower area, on the other hand…
It looked like a tiny cove had been stuck into the bathroom. The tile ended and the walls became rock. The floor was sand, with an inch-deep pool of water which lapped gently in tiny waves. Green plants grew in small deposits of earth on the rock walls. On a little outcropping of rock were a few little glass bottles which, Dean was relieved to see, were labelled toiletries.
But there was no clear way to turn the thing into a shower. Dean undressed anyway and stepped onto the sand, hoping he could figure out when he got a closer look. He would feel like a freaking idiot asking Gilda how to work the damn bathroom.
When his feet hit the fine, soft sand, a stream of water started trickling from above. Dean blinked and took another step into the cove, and the water intensified into a cascade. Suddenly concerned about flooding the bathroom, he jumped back and checked the floor. But the sand at the edge was still dry.
Dean had to admit that sometimes, magic had its perks.
He stepped forward again. The water had stopped flowing when he’d moved away, but as soon as he was back in the cove, it started up again. Dean stood under the waterfall and let it run over him, making a pleased noise at the heat and pressure. He had morning wood, and the feeling of the water on his cock made his hips jerk forward a little, involuntarily, looking for more stimulation. Well, he could do that. He poured a little bit of conditioner into his hand and palmed the underside of his cock gently, sucking in a breath when he reached the sensitive head. He curled his hand around his length completely and gave it a slow tug. Dean let his eyes fall shut –
– and he saw Sam’s eyes, remembered that lurch of painful wanting from the dream. He’d missed the real Sammy so much back then… And then Dean remembered hands grabbing at him from all directions. His eyes flew open and he rinsed his hands off, grimly continuing with his shower and ignoring his erection. It’d go away on its own soon enough.
***
Part Two