tarotgal

Summary: Scenes of hurt/comfort from before
Sam figures about about Dean's care-giving kink...
and scenes set afterward.
Pairing: Dean/Sam | Rating: Various (G through NC-17)

Part 27. An After

Black oil paint drips from Dean’s hand as he draws the symbols on the door. He pulls out a lighter and sets the symbols on fire. The flame burns hot for a moment, tracing the design, and then it glows into the door. Dean quickly says the words that need saying. He doesn’t even have to pull out his dad’s journal any more to read them. He finishes before the glow dies away to black. Then he tries the doorknob.

It doesn’t turn. “Fuck!” Dean kicks the door.

It doesn’t budge, doesn’t even rattle in its frame. He gets a running start and rams his side into it. He kicks again. He pounds with both his fists.

Nothing makes a dent. Not even a scratch on the door. Dean touches his forehead to the wood, pants, scratches his fingernails at the door. “Sammy…” he whispers.

He’s never known spirits to keep a house locked up so damn tight. Weapons, brute force, not even a spell worked on it. Dean fucking hates witches, but right now he sort of wishes he had one on payroll. He needs to get in. He needs to get to Sam.

It was so stupid, in hindsight he gets that. But they’d done it a million times. One of them takes the top floors, the other the bottom. One takes the front yard, the other the back. One runs into the ghost and calls for the other. That was the routine; there’s nothing Dean would have changed there. But he should have gone into the house first instead of letting Sammy take the lead.

There was no telling what was happening to Sam inside. He’s only got the one shotgun, maybe a little salt, and his emergency knife. And he’s been in there seventeen minutes now. Seventeen minutes at the mercy of a ghost this strong… Dean didn’t even like to think about what that might mean. He’d know if Sam were dead… the doors would open, surely. And they were still closed tight.

The windows, on the other hand… Dean circles the house again. At each window, he rams the butt of his rifle at the glass windowpanes.

They don’t break.

He grabs at the frames, tries to pry them up with his knife.

They don’t budge. None of them budge.

But, through one, he can see Sam. Sam’s on all fours, head hanging down, arms shaking like they won’t support his weight much longer. He doesn’t look like he can get to his feet. But he doesn’t look hurt otherwise. Nothing Dean can see from this position at least. Could be he’s been hit. Could be he’s been possessed. Could be a whole lot of things.

A lot of things Dean can’t do anything about right now. Without taking his eyes off his brother, Dean considers his options. He could burn the house down; eventually the fire would eat through the house. But that much damage would make the house collapse with Sam still in it. He could leave and go for help. He could get a sledgehammer or a chainsaw or something more powerful than what he… had…

Dean closes his eyes for a second, feeling stupid. Then he retreats. He looks one last time at Sammy, and then runs for his baby. He slides into the driver’s seat, turns the ignition, throws it into drive, and pounds the gas pedal flat to the floor. Not wanting to hit Sam, he aims for a different part of the house.

He’s not prepared for the resistance when the car smashes into the house. It’s not the first time his baby’s found itself inside a house, but this one’s especially hard to get into. It’s like there’s some magical barrier pushing back. The back wheels spin, but then the car lurches forward. With a screech and a crunch, the impala breaks through fully.

And then everything seems to happen at once. The ghost rushes at Dean then explodes from a shot of rock salt. Dean throws open the door to see Sam there, on his hands and knees, with a gun tucked under his arm. “Finally felt like joining me?” Sam jokes. “The body’s in the basement. Now that you’re here, you want to give me a hand digging?”

Dean nods and tries not to look at the mess they’re going to have to dig the car out of before they can leave. But, before they free the impala and before they go down into the cellar to dig, Dean grabs Sam. With one hand on either cheek, he kisses Sam deeply. And Sam kisses back. In the middle of a wreck of an old house, with a ghost who could rematerialize at any moment, they kiss and Dean clings. He’s never going to let Sam go in anywhere first again.