“He’ll be down in the dungeon, Dean,” Castiel says from behind him. Dean takes off running, pelting down the hallways and stairs bursting through the filing room to his brother’s body, limp and deathly still on the floor in the middle of the devil’s trap. Dean is at his side and has Sam scooped up into his arms in seconds, feeling for a pulse. “Cas, he’s not…he’s not breathing; his heart isn’t going. Help him!”
Castiel strides into the room and places two fingers onto Sam’s forehead. Sam gasps and goes limp again in Dean’s arms and Dean feels for a pulse. “Got it. He’s got a pulse again. Thanks, dude.”
“Sam, come back. Whatever you did, it worked. It’s gone, Sam, it’s fucking gone,” Dean says, brushing the hair off of Sam’s face. Sam’s eyes finally open after a few minutes of Dean pleading and rocking him. He stares at Dean like he doesn’t recognize him for a long moment, which scares the shit out of Dean. “Sam, it’s me. It’s Dean. You did it, Sam. The Mark’s gone,” Dean says all in a rush. Sam shakes his head weakly and looks over at Castiel.
“Thank you,” Sam says in a quiet voice.
“I am glad that the Lion’s Mane worked this time, I’ll leave you two for now,” Castiel says, exiting quickly through the passageway.
“So you did the Lion’s Mane, huh? You must have picked a better spot than I did, since it worked,” Dean says. “Gonna tell me, or do I have to try and guess?”
“I’ll tell you. But you probably won’t believe me. Can you feel it, Dean? I can feel both of the ways it all happened,” Sam says, sounding a little in awe.
“Yeah, now that you point it out, I can. That’s pretty weird. Like that time with the Titanic when Cas made sure we remembered.”
“Exactly. We’ve got both of the timelines in our memories. So you can remember both having the Mark, and not having it, right?”
“Yeah, and dying by Meta-douche stabbing me, and watching Gadreel take him out. Guess which one I prefer?”
“Me too. C'mon, help me up,” Sam says, trying to sit up on his own and being unable to. It’s a little frightening how weak he is.
“Whoa there, Sasquatch, let me hold you up. We’ll get back upstairs, okay? Let you lie down for a while.”
“Let me see it. Please, I gotta see it, Dean,” Sam says, panting with the effort into the side of Dean’s neck.
“See what? Oh, my arm. Yeah, of course,” Dean pushes up his sleeve over the crook of his elbow and holds out the blankness of his forearm for Sam to look at. Sam grips his wrist and pulls it up to his mouth, kissing at the unblemished skin.
“It’s really gone. I mean, in a way, it was never there. I can’t believe it worked,” Sam says in a mumble against Dean’s skin, unbelieving even though his lips are still on the evidence of his success.
“This gonna be a new fetish of yours or somethin’?” Dean teases, pulling Sam along the hallway towards the stairs.
“Possibly. That and making you call me Sammy at every opportunity,” Sam says with a laugh. Dean joins him as they reach his bedroom door.
“Hey! What are you guys laughing at in the middle of the night? Some of us are trying to get some sleep,” a voice says from around the hallway corner.
The brothers look at each other in surprise. “Kevin!” they yell in unison, rushing around the corner to see their friend standing before them in rumpled pajamas and more rumpled bed hair.
“You….you’re alive,” Dean says, instantly regretting how stupid this must sound to a Kevin who has never died as far as he knows.
“Yeah,…uh, last time I checked, still breathing. Thanks though, I guess. I’m going back to bed. ‘night,” Kevin says in sleepy confusion. He’s stopped by being completely enveloped in Sam’s arms, holding him to his chest in an awkward hug. “Sam…hey…what’s wrong?” Kevin asks, when he hears Sam choke back a sob.
“He’s just…we’ll explain it all tomorrow, okay? G‘night, Kev,” Dean says, prying Sam’s arms off of Kevin and leading him back to his room. Kevin watches them leave and shakes his head, muttering Winchesters, I’ll never figure these guys out.
Once they’re back in Dean’s room with the door closed, Dean finally asks, “So, why did it work for you? Was it your powers, or did you just pick a better place to try to change stuff?”
“Listen, about my 'powers” Sam makes sarcastic air quotes. “I’m not sure how that even happened, or if I could ever do it again. I mean, I think it’s there all the time, but it’s not something I can consciously tap into. So, no, not as far as I know, not related to my powers.”
“So where did you go in the past?” Dean asks.
“I…uh went back to the first conversation where I told you anything about Amelia. And I told you all of it, how bad it got for me, when I thought you were dead. How I’d almost ended things. My guess was that it would be a small enough change that it would be allowed to happen and that it would change all that followed, because you’d know me better.”
“And so I wouldn’t be such a giant douchewheel to you about not looking for me in Purgatory. That was great thinking, Sammy. I guess that was how I managed to tell you through code what was going on with Gadreel.”
Sam is so proud of himself that he doesn’t flinch at the nickname, and he’s even happier when he sees the grin that Dean gives him.
“Now that you mention it, that was where my 'powers” came in handy. I don’t think I’d have been able to kick him out of my body without using them, since he hadn’t healed me all that much yet.”
“I still can’t believe Kevin, though. Just poof! He’s back, and never was gone. What a trip! Wonder if he’ll believe us?”
“We’ll have to write it all down for him, so he can add it to the Winchester Gospels as an addendum,” Sam jokes.
“It’s really gone. I can’t believe it,” Dean says, sinking down beside Sam on the bed. Sam strokes his blank forearm and Dean shivers, remembering how that used to feel when the Mark was there.
“So, you gonna unpack or what?” Sam asks as he looks around Dean’s room. It looks so strange without any of his stuff spread around.
“Yeah, later. Think we need to have some make-up sex,” Dean says.
“Oh, really?” Sam asks in a murmur that he must know is sexier than anything Dean’s ever heard. And given the look on the little shit’s face, he knows exactly what his words are doing.
“Yeah, really. Get undressed. Now,” Dean says, trying to take back control, and finally getting to let himself, because he doesn’t have to worry about the Mark taking over and hurting Sam somehow.
Sam grins and pulls Dean down on top of him, kissing him thoroughly. Dean pulls back to catch his breath for a moment, breathing his brother’s scent in deeply. He holds the side of Sam’s face and just looks at him, at his hazel eyes going dark with need. “You did it, Sammy. I’d given up hoping, and you fuckin’ did it.”
“Dean, I need you,” Sam says against his lips, kissing him with wild passion.
There’s a flurry of clothes being removed and lube being located in Dean’s packed duffel bags. Finally Sam’s lying there, spread out and waiting, cock jutting and ready, and all Dean can do is stand there and drool looking at him. “God, look at you,” he says, rubbing the lube to warm it.
Sam’s eyes close briefly at the praise and open with renewed lust. “Look at yourself, baby. C’mon already,” Sam says in a low purr.
Dean kneels onto the bed and leans to kiss his brother gently, but Sam holds his head and doesn’t let go, ravaging his mouth to show his need. He finally breaks away and kisses his way down Sam’s torso, licking around each nipple and the tattoo that is back and was never gone.
“It’s here, it was always still here, but it was gone and you had that scar, and you never got it replaced, but here it is,” Dean says in wonder.
Sam’s hand reaches up to rest over Dean’s tattoo, “You never said anything about it before.”
“I’m sorry, I should have…should have made you go get another one, or something,” Dean says in a rush, sitting back on his heels and looking ashamed.
“Hey. Yeah. You should have. But I’m over it, no more sorries tonight, please. I need you, Dean. Now,” Sam says with a slight ring resonating around the ‘now.’
Dean’s eyebrows raise as he looks at Sam, realizing that everything is maybe mostly fixed between them, and his brother has some powers that they’ll have to figure out. But he puts that out of his mind, to be fussed over later. Sam’s insistence on now isn’t something he really needs to be commanded to do. He bends and nips at the tender skin on the inside of Sam’s hipbone. Sam yelps in surprise and Dean smiles, knows he’s got him right where he wants him.
“Need you too, you know,” Dean says, breathing hot and heavy along Sam’s length.
Sam tosses his head on the pillow and groans in answer.
“Never stopped…always wanted this,” Dean says, blowing steadily on the tip of Sam’s cock.
Sam nearly squeaks in frustration, “Stop teasin’. C’mon, Dean.”
Dean chuckles and takes the rosy head between his lips, swirling his tongue around and under, dipping into the slit. He moans at the familiar flavor he’s missed. “Taste so good, Sammy.” After a few bobs of his head up and down, he pulls off and begins kissing and licking his way down behind Sam’s balls. He carefully sucks each one, reveling in the taste, and flicks his tongue on the sensitive spot right behind them.
Spreading his legs wider and pulling them up so Dean has room, Sam moans and slurs Dean’s name and several insistent incomprehensible words when Dean’s tongue begins licking at his hole. He gets louder and less coherent the more Dean licks and pushes his tongue inside. Finally, lubed fingers replace his tongue and begin working in and out of him in a familiar motion. “Missed that, huh, baby?” Dean purrs, kissing at the stretched rim where his fingers are moving in and out.
No answer is forthcoming from Sam, just some noise that vaguely sounds like begging. He feels Sam’s hands on his head pulling at him, insisting that he come back up and kiss him. They groan into the kiss, reveling at the flavor of all of Sam in their mouths combing with the taste of them together once again after much too long. During the kiss, Dean begins pushing into Sam slowly, much more slowly than he usually does. It’s been so long. He doesn’t want to hurt Sam. And he wants to remember this, what feels like a homecoming. Finally he’s all the way inside, deep inside Sam, where they’re connected, at the root and basis of them. Sam holds his head between his two giant hands and says, “I told you, it couldn’t have you. You’re mine, Dean. Mine.” The last mine rings and shimmers in Dean’s ears and heart, filling him up with the fullness he’s been missing in the Sam-shaped part of his soul. He feels his brother moving in there for good and forever.
Dean pushes in and out of Sam in a slow rhythm that’s making both of them whine a little in the back of their throats, the waiting, the wanting for completion pushing them both to speed up. He finally pushes himself up and reaches one hand down to stroke Sam’s cock in time with their movements. Sam tips his head back, closing his eyes and straining to hold back.
“Come for me, Sammy,” Dean says in the voice of command that he saves for when it matters most. Times like now.
Sam shouts out a loud noise that sounds like yes and fuck and Dean all at once as he comes hard between them, tightening up all around Dean, holding him even closer and deeper inside. Dean can barely move, but he feels Sam pulse and clench at him, pulling him over to meet Sam in long-awaited bliss. He collapses on Sam, and doesn’t move for a long time, feeling his warm come all around him, inside of Sam where it belongs.
Time passes and they hold each other, together and finally safe, and one. But Sam needs to breathe, so he wriggles enough to dislodge a now-softened Dean and rolls him gently to the side. He gets up slowly and steps to the sink to wet one of their t-shirts to clean up with. When he turns to come back to bed, he sees Dean staring at him like he’s never seen him before.
“What’s wrong, Dean?” he asks, stepping quickly back to the bed.
“Sorry. Nothin’s wrong. Just thought I’d never see you like this again,” Dean admits, his heart so open and raw like everything’s just been taken out and put back in again. Sam’s fixed him and sewn him up like he always does. “Thanks, for fixin’ me, Sammy,” he says.
Sam sits down next to Dean’s hip and washes him gently and carefully. He holds Dean’s soft cock in his hand, just holds it gently, possessively. “You didn’t need fixing, Dean, we did. And you’re welcome,” Sam says.
Dean marvels at his brother’s words, mouth hanging open unattractively as he thinks about what Sam means. Then he smiles slowly, accepting Sam’s meaning, knowing that everything’s been rearranged in the best sort of way possible. Sam throws the shirt towards the sink and curls up next to him, pulling the blankets up and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder.
“Always thought we deserved a do-over,” he murmurs into Sam’s hair as they both drift off to sleep.
~The End~Back to Masterpost