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smalltrolven

The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time


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smalltrolven

fic: Hidden In The Right Place (Sam/Dean, NC-17) Chapter 7 of 11

Back to Chapter 6

`~*~’

“Here’s to being human again,” Raya said, lifting her wineglass up to toast.

Dean clinked it with his beer bottle, and Sam with his water glass. The brothers sat on one side of the kitchen table, legs pressed up against each other, hip to knee.

“I appreciate your cooking very much, Dean. Food has not tasted the same since I became a demon, so this is my first real meal in a very long time,” Raya said, cutting another piece off of her steak.

“Have you thought of who you’re going to free from Hell?” Dean asked, uncomfortable with accepting any praise from his former captor.

“There were souls in Hell that hadn’t turned into demons yet, they were in a separate section from where we were, even when there were just the waiting lines,” Raya said.

“So just go pick someone out of there then,” Dean said.

“No, it has to be an innocent soul, remember?” Sam said.

“There were souls of people I knew when I was human, I can think of several that were undeserving of Hell,” Raya said.

“Raya, you were just a full-on demon, I think maybe your judgment on innocence might be a little skewed,” Sam said.

“How about that first guy we met, from when we first tangled with the crossroads demon, name was Evan something,” Dean said. “He’d made that demon deal just so his sick wife could live. Pretty good bet he’d count as an innocent soul.”

“Yeah, trapped in Hell because of a demon deal made for good intentions, that’d probably count,” Sam said. He left the kitchen and came back, walking quickly holding their father’s journal.

“Evan Hudson was his name. Raya can you find someone in Hell by knowing their name? When I went in to free our friend Bobby, I just randomly found him, but I had to search for a while.” Sam sat back down at the table next to Dean, sliding the journal over to Dean with his finger pointing at Evan Hudson’s name written in Dean’s own handwriting on the page for crossroad/demon deals.

“There is an index, a record that is kept, of which soul is where in Hell. I know the keeper of it, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Getting in and out, will be harder now that I’m human again,” Raya said.

“Rogue reaper,” Dean said.

Raya looked at him blankly.

“You need to find a reaper, one of Death’s servants that’s gone a bit rogue, they have a spot they can sneak into Hell that doesn’t set off any alarm bells,” Sam said.

“Did Crowley know this?” Raya asked, sounding very surprised.

“Maybe, we weren’t sure, but he did kill the reaper that led me into Hell when I did the Trial,” Sam said.

“Reapers used to be angels, or something like that, but they’ll do it for a price,” Dean said.

“I can pay any price,” Raya said without hesitation.


“Ajay asked us to owe him a favor, what do you think they’d ask from Raya?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged and grimaced a little. “Who knows, with Bobbie in charge now, things might have changed. Maybe there aren’t any rogue reapers around.”

“Last time we had to get the information out of a crossroads demon to even find the guy,” Sam said.

“I knew all the crossroads demons, one of them will eventually talk,” Raya said, confident in her connections.

`~*~’

“Here are the Enochian words you say after killing a hellhound, and then freeing Evan Hudson’s soul. Two separate things, see?” Sam said, handing Raya a paper he’d written everything down on.

“You spelled it out for me phonetically?” Raya asked.

“Wasn’t sure how good your Enochian would be,” Sam said.

“Probably not nearly up to snuff as yours is,” Raya said with a sly grin.

That grin meant she’d known about what had gone on with him in the Cage all those years. How his Enochian would be the equal of any angel’s.

“Hope there’s only one Evan Hudson down there,” Raya said to fill the silence Sam’s introspection had left in the conversation.

“Ask him whether he remembers us or not, that’ll tell you if you’ve got the right one,” Sam said.

“Why won’t you give me the Enochian words for the last Trial?” Raya asked.

“We want to be there when you do it,” Dean said from the hallway.

“Fine, I’ll be back soon,” Raya said in a loud voice she aimed at Dean. She leaned into Sam’s space and whispered, “You better talk to him while I’m gone.”

Sam glared at her and didn’t say anything, because he wasn’t going to, and he wasn’t going to explain himself to her with Dean listening.

Dean handed her a set of car keys, “The truck should be fine to get you to the crossroads and beyond. You remember what I taught you?”

“Yes, your driving lessons were very fine, Dean. I feel I am ready for the wide open roads of the US of A.”

Dean rolled his eyes at her and watched her leave. “Good luck, Raya. We’ll be seein’ you soon.”

“Bye, Raya. Kick it in the ass!” Sam yelled as she slipped through the door to the garage.

“We should have just killed her when she was a demon, what if she screws this all up going down there?” Sam asked, thinking about how it could all go so wrong so fast.

“Screws up Hell? How is one former demon going to affect anything down in that place? They’ve got enough craziness going on to keep them busy for eons,” Dean asked.

“I’m just worried about the Balance thing that we’re supposed to be paying attention to, Heaven is so depleted, and Hell’s so unmoored without a leader. It was left up to us to do that, remember?” Sam asked, glad to have figured out a way to introduce the topic in a way that probably wasn’t suspicious.

“Sammy, big picture questions like that are way above my pay grade, I’m just concentrating on keeping you balanced, so how about some dinner while we binge the rest of ‘Breaking Bad’?”

`~*~’

Dean whipped up a quick spaghetti and meatballs (with a green salad of course) and brought it to Sam’s room. The man cave idea had been great, but he hadn’t even gone back in there since they’d smashed the free pawn shop tv. Sam’s flat screen was back to being the best in the bunker. Sam had obviously tidied his room up, the bed was neatly made, extra pillows were ready for them to sit up against while they ate and watched. Sam stood by his desk, side-lit by the glow of the tv screen, he seemed to get more beautiful every damn day. How was that even possible?

“You think Evan Hudson was the right choice? What if he was an awful person? We only know the one thing about him and his wife, he could have been a really bad guy otherwise,” Sam asked.

“No way man, someone like that, they’re not like a wife-beater or something on the side too. Selling your soul, it’s a big damn deal,” Dean said, going quiet at how own memory of it, how sure of his decision he still was now, even after everything that had followed.

“I can imagine,” Sam said, looking at him like he used to back when they were kids, and Dean could do no wrong in Sam’s eyes. Dean had missed that worshipful look, but it meant something even more important now. Because they weren’t just kids, and Sam was still everything to him.

“Is that spaghetti and meatballs I’m smelling?” Sam asked as he climbed onto the bed next to Dean after he’d started up their Netflix account.

“Yeah, and a salad too,” Dean said, handing him his plate once he’d settled down.

Sam’s fingers lingered over his on the edge of the plate and Dean felt that electric zing of connection again. He wondered if that was ever going to stop happening, or if he’d ever get used to it. He hoped not.

“What is it?” Sam asked, almost too quiet to be heard over the gunshots from the tv.

“Still…uh, not used to that zing when we touch,” Dean said.

“Yeah, it’s not something you can ignore,” Sam said, forking up almost half of his salad.

Dean watched Sam chew away at his greens, glad to see him eating, and mostly happy. “I don’t want to ignore it,” Dean said.

“Me neither, I hope I never get used to it,” Sam said.

“Funny, I was just thinking the same thing,” Dean said.

“Watch your show, you’re missing it,” Sam said, tossing his head towards the screen with a fond smile on his face.

Dean grinned back at him and dug into his spaghetti, twirling the strands. He felt Sam’s attention as he brought the fork up to his mouth. He wanted to tease him for watching him eat, but he couldn’t, instead he played it up, made it as sensual as possible.

Sam huffed and turned towards the screen, but left his shoulder against Dean’s for at least the first three episodes. After that it was all a blur, but they ended up under the covers, legs entwined and the tv off.

`~*~’

Sam woke up first for once, thankful that the awful prophetic dream hadn’t come again. He wouldn’t have been able to hide that from Dean. But being awake first, he finally had a chance to look at a sleeping Dean from close up. He took in Dean’s relaxed face and tousled hair, he couldn’t help caressing the side of Dean’s face. The zing as their skin touched woke Dean up and getting to see it happen from close up was the most beautiful thing Sam had ever seen.

Dean’s eyes slowly opened and focused on Sam. A small smile started to form and Dean mumbled, “ g’ mornin’, Sammy.”

“Sorry for waking you,” Sam murmured, his hand still lingering on Dean’s face.

Dean nuzzled his head into the crook of Sam’s neck and seemed to go back to sleep. “This okay?” Dean finally asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Sam said, he slowly counted to a thousand, wishing he could just stay here the rest of the day curled up with Dean, practically cursing himself for eventually having to pull away and be more closed-off.

As he slunk out of his room, he thought it would be a good excuse to help disguise his decision, Dean wouldn’t get suspicious because he’d assume it was their new intimacy freaking Sam out. Even though it was anything but that. Nothing had ever felt more right than having his brother in his arms, in his bed, warm and safe. Together.

`~*~’

Chapter 8


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