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The Wanting Comes In Waves

All Sam/Dean, All The Time


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Rankle & Gall - Part 6 of 7

Back to Part 5

“You boys are so lucky Sam! This place is amazing! All this art-deco is so beautiful. No way, a telescope too?” Jody exclaims as she strides through the main room of the bunker.

Sam chuckles as he leads her downstairs to the living quarters. “Yeah, we know. Here, down this hall is where you can stay. Pick a room. We’re in this one, so the rest are free, except for the one where we watch TV. And the bathroom is down the hall there on the end. It’s the only one, so FYI we’re all sharing. I’ll try to remind Dean so he doesn’t freak you out.”

“What, he a sleep showerer or something?” Jody asks with a raised eyebrow.

“No, uh, he doesn’t always wear a robe or well, uh… anything to the bathroom during the night,” Sam says, blushing a little when he sees her take in the visual he’s describing.

“Oh! Well, okay, yeah remind him then please. No free shows in the middle of the night thanks.”

“Yeah, he’d freak,” Sam says with a laugh.

“Sammy, who’re you talking to?” Dean’s voice floats down to them from the main room where they can hear him banging around.

“Dean, we’re down here!” Sam hollers up the stairs.

The tromping of Dean’s boots gets closer and then before she knows it, he’s swooping her up in a full-body hug, “Holy Crap! Jody!”

Dean sets her down and she looks up to see what she thinks is happiness on his face. “Thanks, uh, you only cracked one rib.”

“Sorry, don’t know my own strength these days, just glad to see you. It’s been too long. How’d you find this place?”

“Sam and I have been emailing back and forth about a visit,” Jody says, remembering all the first hesitant emails she’d gotten from Sam, expressing his worry about how Dean’s been changing.

“Hope it was encrypted,” Dean says, hard and suspicious, glaring at both Jody and Sam.

“Of course. Both ends, Dean, we learned from Frank,” Sam pats him on the shoulder, and looks at Jody. She nods when she sees the behavior Sam had described. Dean being so hard and alert but getting calmed by Sam’s touch.

Dean relaxes enough to shrug off Sam’s hand. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m about to go make some dinner, hope you like lasagna.”

“Oh god, really? Lasagna’s my absolute favorite,” Jody says with honest curiosity that Dean can actually cook.

“I’ll let you guys catch up.” Dean leans over and kisses the side of Sam’s head and leaves the room quickly.

“Oh, uh, sorry about that,” Sam says, blushing again and rubbing at the side of his head where Dean’s lips had just touched him.

“What? Him kissing you?”

“Yeah, uh…he’s been different lately. It’s what I was talking to you about, this Mark of Cain thing. It’s taken away a lot of his filters. Like the one where he worries about PDA.”

“Does it give him super strength too? Because that was quite a rib-crushing hug.”

“Uh huh, and it’s getting worse since he used the First Blade thing. Sorry, should have warned you or held him back.”

“No, it’s okay. Just, how do you keep yourself safe, Sam?” Jody asks before she thinks about all the personal details the answers to her question would encompass.

Sam stammers, going an even darker shade of red. “Well, uh…I…”

Jody puts up a hand in the stop position once she realizes how much she’s embarrassed Sam. “Hold on, I retract the question. I’m going to assume you’ve worked that out already, because you are not a stupid person and no matter how much you love him, you wouldn’t endanger yourself.”

“Right, thanks. Let’s just say that it’s handled. So, what we were discussing over email, I want to show you the ritual I need to do. It has to happen within the next few days, and I’ll need your help to do it. I can do most of it, but there’s some parts that I need a third person for, since Dean may or may not be willing or conscious.”

“What exactly are we talking about, Sam?”

“Well, here, it’s written in this notebook. The steps start here. Your parts are the ones with the asterisk in front of the instruction. Read it, and then hide it somewhere Dean wouldn’t think of looking.”

Jody glances through the list briefly, and looks up with him wide, scared eyes. “Really, Sam? It seems like this is going a touch too far, even for you guys. Especially without even asking him first.”

“It’s the only thing left, I have to do it. You’ll see after you spend a little time with him. He won’t listen to me about getting rid of the thing. I swear I wouldn’t ask it of you, but I can’t do it on my own, and I know I can trust you in a ritual when it counts.”

Jody looks down at her hands holding the notebook, at the neatly written words that will change everything for these boys, she thinks about what she’s done for them already, and what they’ve done for her, for Bobby, for the whole world. She looks up at Sam, meeting his eyes and says with as much encouragement as possible, “We did get him back through time didn’t we?”

Smiling back at her acceptance, Sam answers, “Yeah, we sure did, and this is maybe gonna be a bit harder to pull off. But there’s really no other option at this point. We need to free him from this.”

Sam is finishing up cleaning the disaster Dean left behind in the kitchen. “You really use every pot and pan making this stuff. I mean it’s awesome, but man, it’s a lot to clean up.”

Dean rolls his eyes at Sam’s complaints. “Just making sure you have something to do Sam, don’t want you taking me for granted.”

“That’s not going to happen. Not if you keep making me lasagna,” Sam laughs as he wipes off the splatters of tomato sauce from the stovetop.

Dean interrupts Sam’s laugh with an abrupt question. “Why’s she really here, Sam?”

Sam can hear the hard edge of suspicion in Dean’s voice and turns slowly to face him. “She just wanted to see us. See our place.”

“It’s like she’s checkin’ up on us or somethin’. She’s not our mom, she’s not Bobby,” Dean hisses.

Sam puts down the sponge and wipes his hands dry on a towel. He walks to the table and stands in the vee of Dean’s legs. He puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders rubbing them slowly in a calming gesture. “Dean, she’s our friend. She cares about what happens to us. That’s what normal friends do.”

“You’d know more about that than me, I guess. So you think these walls are thick enough?” Dean asks, looking up with a lascivious grin and waggling eyebrows. He takes advantage of Sam’s position and grabs his ass firmly and yanks him closer, burying his face in Sam’s shirt front.

“Don’t even bother pretending, Dean, I know you get off on the idea of someone hearing us,” Sam says, not able to help his response to Dean’s manhandling.

“So what if I do? I like knowing people know you’re mine,” Dean emphasizes the mine by squeezing Sam’s ass, hard.

Sam rubs himself into Dean, needing some friction already. Dean so demanding like this, always turns him on so easily. “Yeah, me too.”

“Oh ho ho, so he admits to it. Now we’re talkin’, c’mon.” Dean stands up and pulls Sam out the door of the kitchen. He holds Sam from behind and growls in his ear, “Tell you what, I’ll give you a choice, the shower or the observatory.”

“Right now?” Sam asks, groaning as Dean bites the side of his neck and palms his hardening cock through his jeans. He feels like his knees are going weak at all the stimulation and getting manhandled. Dean is like a freight-train, pulling him along towards the inevitable.

“Yeah, now. Right now,” Dean purrs, biting down hard on Sam’s earlobe.

Dean certainly knows where his spots are, always has. Sam holds onto enough sense to ask, “You gotta let me go long enough to get the stuff.”

Dean wraps his arms around Sam and holds him tight, pressing his hard length into Sam’s ass for emphasis. “We don’t need it tonight. I really got it under control. C’mon c’mon.”

“No, Dean, hold on,” Sam says, turning around in Dean’s arms, trying to catch his eyes, needing to see that it’s just Dean that he’s dealing with so far.

Dean lets go of him and steps back, folding his arms across his chest. “Never mind then.”

Sam reaches out to him, arms going around Dean’s neck. “Hold it, I want it too. I just don’t want to take the risk.”

Dean’s arms snake around Sam’s waist pulling him in close, he looks up at Sam with the sincerest expression. “I won’t hurt you Sammy. You know I won’t.”

“I know you wouldn’t, I trust you, but I don’t trust it,” Sam insists, not wanting to lose the intimacy that they’ve been sharing. The bond that they have during sex seems to be keeping Dean from tipping over into the darkness of the Mark.

“I’ve told you a million times, I’ve got a handle on it, these will be enough,” Dean insists. He lets go of Sam and reaches into his pocket, suddenly dangling their police-issue cuffs in Sam’s face.

“You think you do Dean, but you really don’t, not in the middle of it all,” Sam says, still holding onto Dean, staring at the silvery cuffs that have no demon holding sigils inscribed on their smooth, unblemished surface.

Dean’s face goes hard then, as Sam takes the cuffs, but now that his hands are free they don’t stop moving, roaming up and down Sam’s back, kneading his ass. “We either do it right now, with these, or you’re getting’ nothin’.”

Sam fingers the edges of the cuffs, deciding whether it’s worth the risk. It’s one more night until the ritual, and who knows what Dean will go out and do if he doesn’t go through with having sex right now. Dean’s hands wander to brushing at Sam’s hard cock and he finds himself clipping one of the cuffs around Dean’s wrist. “Fine, upstairs then.”

“Now we’re talkin’, get goin’,” Dean says with obnoxious glee, slapping Sam on the ass as the cuff jangles.

Sam whacks him on the back of the head as they walk up the stairs to the main room. “Ssshhh, she’ll hear us.”

Dean pushes at Sam’s ass from behind. “Move your ass. Now or never Sammy. Limited time offer.”

“Why are you in such a damn hurry anyways?” Sam asks, stopping on the stairs to look back at Dean.

Dean pushes by him and grabs his hand, yanking him through the room towards the observatory. “Just come on already, tired of waiting.”

Their clothes come off in the usual mad rush and then Sam needs to find someplace to secure Dean. After a little search, they find a sturdy metal wall fixture at about waist height that Sam fastens the cuffs to. Dean watches him closely as Sam leans over a chair and works himself open, fingers glistening with lube sliding in and out.

“Want to do that to you Sam, I miss it.”

Sam walks over to him and spreads some lube on Dean’s fingers, then turns and backs himself towards Dean’s restrained hand. He fucks himself down on three of Dean’s fingers, pushing himself down further each time.

“Dean stop, that’s enough,” Sam says as Dean’s deep scissoring gets too rough too soon.

“Want to be in you Sam, now,” Dean says in the voice Sam recognizes as half Dean and half Mark Dean and knows he needs to finish this soon.  Sam leans over bracing himself on the telescope railing, pushing his ass back into Dean. He reaches back to guide Dean’s cock into him.

“Ahhh, that’s better now isn’t it, Sammy?” Dean says, starting up a quick, breathless rhythm of thrusts.

Dean pounds into him, steady rhythm taking away his words. Dean’s hold on him inescapable even though he’s not the one restrained. With the extra strength that he’s got now, Sam’s no match for him. Which is admittedly part of the turn on. Even just using his cock on Sam is enough of a hold that Sam can’t resist. Sam comes hard at just the thought of it, the possible danger sparking him off faster than usual. But afterwards, Dean keeps going, speeding up even, and this is too much now. Way too much to handle. “Dean slow down,” Sam says, in as calm a voice as he can manage.

Dean doesn’t answer, he might not even hear at this point. Sam’s heart sinks, plummeting low as he realizes there’s no stopping him now. He just has to hold on until Dean’s through. He wills himself to relax, to go as limp as possible, maybe it will help signal Dean that he’s had enough. But it seems to make Dean just push into him even harder, each thrust like a punch to his insides, the pleasure that was there at first is long gone.

Then he hears the sound of breaking metal, and Dean’s hands are suddenly on his hips, holding him in place so that Dean can plunge in even deeper.  Sam tries not to panic that his brother is out of the cuffs and in the grip of the Mark now. The sharp broken metal of the cuffs are digging into his sides as Dean holds him too tightly, he can feel blood dripping down the outside of his thighs. “Please…Dean. Please stop,” he manages to say in a weak voice.

The sound of Sam’s begging seems to put Dean over the edge, he comes so violently he crushes Sam into the telescope railing that he’d been holding onto. Sam feels something breaking inside his chest, maybe his rib, if not his heart. The last vague thought he has is that all that better have been enough to satisfy the Mark, or they’re all screwed. And then even that disappears, as he’s gone into the blackness.

**Dean**

Dean wakes up alone in their room, naked in bed as usual. What’s unusual is that Sam’s not in the bed with him. But when he stumbles into the shower room, he catches sight of himself in the full length mirror on the back of the door. His hands are bloody and there’s some on his thighs too. He’s wearing broken handcuffs on each wrist.  He grimaces at the thought of where the blood came from, and takes a longer shower than usual. Sam must have really egged him on last night. He works on getting the cuffs off each wrist, not thinking about it anymore. It’s not until he’s mostly dressed in their room that he hears Jody’s voice screaming Sam’s name from upstairs. He drops his boots and tears up the staircase.

“Get back Dean,” Jody says in a menacing growl. She’s standing in front of the observatory nook, brandishing the sword that’s usually on top of the bookcase.

“What’s goin’ on Jody?” Dean asks, knowing that it must be related to Sam.

“Like you don’t know. I want you to just go back downstairs for me. I’ll take care of him,” Jody says, using her commanding Sheriff voice.

“Is Sam hurt?” Dean asks, feeling a blank redness deep inside, because he already knows this answer. The Mark had its demands, and it was fed last night.

“Yes he’s hurt you bastard. Just go, now.” Jody points with the sword at the staircase.

“No, let me help,” Dean says, advancing a few steps towards her.

“I think you’ve done enough here Dean, go,” she commands, slashing through the air with the sword to stop Dean’s approach.

He backs up slowly, down the stairs, his eyes not leaving the still form of his brother lying on the floor under the telescope. “First aid stuff is in the bathroom, on the shelves.”

~*@Jody*&~

Jody relaxes a little once Dean’s retreated back downstairs. She lets go of the sword and scoops up a blanket that’s on the chair in the sitting room and throws it over Sam as she kneels down next to him on the floor. She tries shaking his shoulder, with no response at all, then resorts to lightly slapping his cheek. “Sam, hey Sam. Come on buddy. Wake up.”

“Jody? What?”

“You’re okay Sam. Just hold still for a second.” She pulls the blanket over his waist and up to his shoulders. “I found you here this morning.”

“Why am I here?” Sam asks, looking confused to be on the floor. Staring up at the telescope and the skylight beyond it.

“There’s a lot of blood. I think I need to take you to the hospital or something,” Jody says, her heart hammering faster as she thinks about what injuries he could possibly have.

“No, no hospital, just help me into the bathroom, I can deal,” Sam says weakly, trying to push himself up to sitting, but collapsing again to the floor.

Jody rolls her eyes at the famous Winchester Stubbornness. “Really? You’ve passed out after sex in a pool of your own blood?”

Sam grimaces at her gentle sarcasm. “No, but I know what to do. Just help me up. And it’s not really a pool of blood. We both know what that really looks like.”

She stands up and sets her feet wide so that she can help hoist him up from the floor. She steadies him with an arm around the waist as he wavers, holding onto the telescope. “I guess I believe you now about the Mark.”

“Don’t blame it on Dean. It’s my own fault. Usually I restrain him with cuffs that have demon binding sigils. But he talked me into using our regular ones last night.”

“I don’t need details, Sam, I just need to help you. And it’s not your fault,” Jody says as she gets them down the short flight of stairs.

“It’s not his either, not really.”

“Now’s not the time for this, let’s just go get you cleaned up,” Jody says knowing that Sam probably needs to talk about this, but she needs to check his injuries more.

“No! No, Jody. I can do it. Please. I can’t ask you to do this. Just give me a few minutes. I swear I’ll yell if I fall or something,” Sam says as he pushes his way into the shower room.

“Okay. I’ll be in my room with the door open,” Jody relents, seeing how stubborn and desperate Sam is in this terrible moment. “I trust you to be honest if you need me, Sam.”

She backs out of the shower room, with a smile that she means to be reassuring but instead probably comes out just kind of sad.  Jody shakes her head as she walks back to her room. She had no idea it was really this bad. But now she knows she’s got to stay and help Sam do this ritual thing. And more importantly, she sees why he was asking her to keep it secret. Dean really doesn’t know what he becomes. That makes her shiver, a chill running down her spine at the thought of that inhuman power that Dean’s got, all bearing down on one person, Sam. Sam who is strong and big and tall, but still is just a human. And there’s no point in getting mad at Dean, even though she wants to open that door and go in and read him the riot act, cuff him and drag him off to jail for hurting his brother like this. He’s not in control, not like he thinks he is, and that’s the biggest problem here. For all of them.

**Sam**

Sam holds onto the row of sinks, slowly making his way to the shower. He reaches in to turn the handle, and gasps at the pain in his ribs at the stretch. This is a lot worse than it’s ever been before. There are clouds of steam billowing out of the shower by the time he comes back to himself enough to move under the water. He manages to hold in most of his cry of pain, hoping that it isn’t enough to bring Jody running. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about Dean coming in to check on him. This Dean doesn’t care. Not like he should, not like he used to.

He swears to himself as he washes his own blood from his body that he won’t give in to Dean’s demands without insisting on the right restraints that they know actually work. He splutters under the shower water, realizing that he probably can’t even risk that anymore. He got really lucky that it wasn’t worse than a couple of broken ribs, some gashes that might need stitches and a much sorer ass than usual. That means the ritual has to happen tonight if he can recover in time. Because Dean needs at least one round every night to satisfy the Mark, otherwise he’ll go out of the bunker and do something they’ll all regret even more.

He thinks about how this is going to kill Dean when he realizes what he’s done. That it might be too much guilt for him to bear. There’s been a lot of things over the years that he didn’t think Dean could get past, but he always has. This though. Hurting Sam in this way, in the act that usually is filled with only love and pleasure between them. Well, it might ruin him. Might ruin them.  Sam thinks to himself that all his hopes are riding on the result of the ritual being enough to stop that from happening. Because if after all this he still loses Dean, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to survive either.

Finally he feels cleaned up enough and the blood flow has stopped on its own. The cuts on his hips aren’t all that deep, and thankfully they don’t need stitches, just some bandages. There’ll be a lot of pain today, but it won’t be too much, not with what is on the line.  He shuts off the shower and leans his forehead against the tiles which cool quickly. He realizes he’s crying, not from the pain, but from the overwhelming worry. It’s all too much think of, if this doesn’t work…how far will he have to go to stop Dean…what will he have to do?  He shakes his head, water droplets flying in every direction, to stop himself from dwelling on that line of thinking.

He wipes his tears off on the towel, dries himself off and peeks out the door.  Jody hears him and comes out of her room with a stack of his clothes, she gestures him to come into her room. She sets the clothes on her bed and leaves to give him privacy.  This means she must have gotten the clothes from their room, - was Dean in there? Does he even know?  He pulls his clothes on as quickly as he’s able; the shirt is the hardest, because at least one of his ribs are definitely broken. He gives up trying, and wonders if Jody knows how to wrap broken ribs, or if he’ll have to ask Dean to do it.  Does he make up a story here, some random attack occurring outside of the bunker, while he was out on a supply run? Would Dean buy that? Sam doesn’t want to tell him the truth. Mostly because he doesn’t want to see Dean not react or show concern.

“Hey, Sam? You doin’ okay in there?” Jody asks, after knocking gently on her door.

“Yeah, Jody, come in.”

She comes in and sits next to him on the bed. “So I’m on board. Sorry it took something like this to convince me.”

“’s okay, I get it. It’s a lot to ask. I really have no one else though.”

“You’ve got me, for whatever you need. You boys are important to me. I couldn’t forgive myself if something bad happens and I could have done something about it.”

“Jody, I don’t know what we did to deserve a friend like you. Bobby sure knew how to pick ‘em. But I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too, Sam.”

“Does he know?” Sam asks.

“He saw you when I first found you upstairs. But I waved a sword at him, told him to leave and stay in your room. He didn’t look like he was too upset. I just got those clothes from your room for you, and he was just spacing out listening to music, didn’t say a thing to me. Honestly, it was a little creepy.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Alright, I’ve got to get myself together so we can do it tonight.”

“Do what tonight?” Dean asks, standing in the partially open doorway.

“Well, we were going to surprise you with your favorite meal, Dean, but now that you’ve heard about it … I don’t know,” Jody teases. Sam smiles at her, impressed that she was so fast on her feet and hoping that Dean will buy the only lie she could come up with on the spot.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear anything, you two carry on,” Dean rumbles, false note of teasing not matching the tight clenching of his fists.

Dean starts to leave, with a smile and wiggle of eyebrows that kind of breaks Sam’s heart a little at just how familiar it is, but underneath it is this cold calculating stare. Dean’s eyes not warmed at the thought of good food, but instead casting a suspicious glance between the two of them.

Sam stands and then gasps at the pain in his ribs.

“Sam, you okay?” Jody asks, hand going to his lower back.

Dean comes forward a step, pretty much growling at the sight of her hand on Sam’s bare skin. “Let me check him.”

She steps back at the sound of that possessive noise and lets Dean come close enough. He runs his hands over Sam’s body in the familiar rote patterns of injury check that their father taught them so long ago. He skips over the rib, coming back to it last like he already knows. Then he presses harder than he needs to. Sam gasps again, in agony this time, pushing Dean away. “Yeah, I already know it’s broken.”

“I’ll go get the stuff to wrap you up, back in a sec.” Dean disappears quickly out the door.

Jody asks, “See what I meant?”

“Yeah, he didn’t ask how it happened, it’s like he knows what he’s done, doesn’t care, but is handling it anyways,” Sam observes, wincing at the memory of the extra force Dean had used pressing on the rib.

Dean comes back with a muscle isolation wrap bandage and tugs at Sam’s arms. “C’mon lift ‘em up.”

“Jody, could you…uh, go?” Sam desperately wants her to leave, doesn’t want her to have to actually see all the evidence on his body again.

“Sam, I’m staying.”

Dean pulls the wrap around him once, heedless of his choked-off gasps of pain. “Okay, deep breath in and hold it, you know the drill Sammy.” His hands feel hot and sure smoothing the wrap around and around his ribs, making no comments on the scratches, bites and bruises that cover most of the surface of Sam’s torso. Sam holds his breath in and concentrates on his brother’s voice calling him Sammy at this point in time, and how unfair it is, - how usually it would make him happy, spark up that spot inside that only Dean can ever reach, how much he wants it to really be Dean saying it to him.

“Okay, all done. Uh…I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast,” Dean says in a low rumble as he turns and walks out the door.


Jody helps Sam into his shirt and leaves him behind to gather himself together and heads upstairs into the kitchen. She barely sets foot inside the room when Dean is up in her face, hissing at her. “I know you’re up to something. Just keep your hands off of him. He’s mine.”

She takes a step back, terrified by the look on Dean’s face. It’s so utterly not like him, he might as well be one of the monsters they hunt. She takes a deep breath and says as calmly as she can manage, “I know, Dean, I will. I promise, I’m not trying to take Sam away from you.”

“Like you even could,” Dean sneers, rubbing at the Mark on his arm.

Jody watches him rubbing that spot over and over like it’s a reflexive gesture he doesn’t even know he’s making, so detached from his own body. She tries to be soothing, “I know better, Dean, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried, but I’m watching you,” he growls, turning back to the counter where he picks up the large knife to keep chopping the green onions for the omelet he’s fixing for their breakfast.

After breakfast, Dean heads out to the garage, leaving a little window of time for Sam to talk to Jody without interference. They meet in her room with the door closed just in case. “I’ve got everything set, we’ll do it tonight,” Sam says, sitting down on the bed next to her.

Jody uncrosses and re-crosses her outstretched legs. “How are you getting him to cooperate?”

“It’s part of the spell, I have to give him this potion thing tonight that prepares him. It’s supposed to hold him in stasis as well as open him up to having the spell work. Something to do with what we would call chakras I think.”

“So, will you need help moving him once he’s out?” Jody asks.

“Yeah, we gotta get him down to the dungeon,” Sam says, dreading that task even more now that he’s got a broken rib.

“You have a dungeon here too?” Jody asks, looking over at Sam in surprise.

“Yep, it’s all demon-proofed and everything, it’s perfect for what we’re doing.”

“The summoning, you mean?” Jody asks.

“Yeah, it’ll keep him contained, as well as Dean until he’s fixed.”

“The only part I’m worried about is saying the words correctly.  What the hell is this language anyways?” Jody asks, holding the notebook up at different distances from her face like it will help make the words make sense.

“It’s, well, hard to explain. This is from Oz. Our friend Charlie brought me this spell from a witch friend of hers.”

“So you’re telling me that Oz, as in the fairytale land the Wizard of Oz takes place, is a real thing too?”

“Yeah, that was a surprise, let me tell you. So was meeting Dorothy, and I promise to tell you that whole story after this is over with.”

“Ooookay then. So is the spell gonna work here in our world?” Jody asks.

“Yes, according to Charlie’s friend. That’s what I’m counting on anyways. Dean would kill me if he knew I was depending on the word of a witch, he hates ‘em.”

Jody reaches across the bed and pats Sam on the shoulder. “It’ll work, Sam. Have faith.”

Getting Dean to drink the potion is much easier than he’d anticipated. Getting over his guilt for doing this without asking Dean is going to be a harder thing. But the ache of the cuts on his hips and the sharp pain of his broken rib remind him that there’s too much at stake, and Dean himself would not want things to escalate past where they’ve gotten to.

“So what’re we drinking to?” Dean asks, lifting up his mug to smell what’s inside.

“To surviving our first house-guest in a while.” Sam lifts his mug to clink with Dean’s. He’s disguised the potion in some hot chocolate with whipped cream. The taste of the chocolate and sweetness of the cream should disguise the herbiness of the potion. “That was a really nice breakfast you fixed for us, thank you. It’s been good having Jody here, I like having her around.”

“When’s she plannin’ on leavin’?” Dean asks, face going sullen.

“Why you want the place back to just us?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I do, she’s cool, but I like it when it’s just us,” Dean says.

“Drink up, then we can go watch the rest of Game of Thrones,” Sam says, hoping the cajoling will be the trick to get Dean to drink it all.

“This is good cocoa, tastes a little different,” Dean observes.

“Yeah, I put some mint extract in, thought it would cut the sweetness a little,” Sam says, watching Dean carefully to see that he’s consumed the rest of the drink.

Dean slams his mug down on the table and stands up saying, “Done, let’s go, I wanna see who Arya ganks next.”

Sam watches him collapse in slow motion as the potion takes effect. He manages to catch hold of Dean enough to lower him to the floor without smashing his head. The pain shoots through him when he moves so quickly, even with the pressure bandage on, the ribs are going to be an issue. Thank god and all the other deities that Jody is here.

“Jody!” Sam calls out, “Come on in!”

Jody appears in the doorway, “He’s out completely? That was fast.”

“Yeah, it took effect faster than I’d thought it would, so can you take his feet? Let’s get him down there and get started, because who knows how long he’ll really be out.”

In the dungeon, all the lights are on, and there are as many candles lit as Sam could find, both the ones for the ritual and others just for more light. He’s marked a smaller devil’s trap in paint off to the side of the existing one. That’s where they end up dragging Dean’s limp body, placing it in the center. Sam takes his outer shirt off and folds it up, placing it under Dean’s head. He undresses Dean from the waist up, and also places those clothes under Dean. He holds Dean’s slack face between his hands, memorizing the details one last time, just in case, then leans down to kiss him gently, whispering, “Hold on Dean, I gotcha.”

First Sam has to purify himself, so he also removes his remaining shirts. Jody unwraps the pressure bandage from around his ribs as carefully as possible. From the table he picks up a crystal pitcher filled with salted holy water that has sat out under a full moon’s light. That gets poured over his head and shoulders.  He splutters through the cool shock of the water and wipes the salty water out of his eyes. The salt stings like a bitch in the scratches Dean left on his torso last night. But it keeps him more alert, focused on the task. Next he lights the bundle of herbs: sage, rue, winter mint, yarrow and moonwort. He hopes they’re the right equivalents to what the herbs are in Oz. The herbs don’t catch at first, but then they burst into a flame that he breathes on, saying the first words of the ritual.

Omnizee, furstedfree, warnessthee.

Jody and he look at each other and kind of roll their eyes at how silly the Ozian words sound to their ears, but they both keep repeating the chant, their voices joining together into one that rings through the stone room. Charlie had sworn up and down that the pronunciation did not count too much, it was all about the intention, just like with most spell work. The herb bundle is burning nicely now, so Sam stamps it out in a large abalone shell and then smudges himself and the two devil’s trap circles with the smoke paying special attention to the area around Dean. He sets that aside and moves on to the next preparatory step.

Onto Part 7

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