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[weary_head]

Dean's body ached from the inside out, every last part of it wound so tight it was a wonder he had any strength left for walking, but walk Dean did. His feet had carried him to every part of the island at least twice, and now they'd brought him to the tree Sam had taken from the jungle and planted the last time Dean disappeared.

What, you made me into Arbor Day?

Sam hadn't smiled then, and Dean didn't smile now. Between Sam's screaming absence and Castiel's news, Dean wasn't sure he'd ever smile again. Not once, back home, not once had he taken Sam for granted, and on the island it'd taken all of a year to relax his guard, let himself reach for things that made him happy, and now his little brother was gone. Back to the worst of all possible futures, and Dean was as powerless to save him as a child.

He pushed his fingers over his eyes, holding back the panic as best he could. Sam was out there, fighting Lilith with only Ruby at his side, and Dean was in fucking Margaritaville. With a grunt of dissent, Dean walked forward, head shaking angrily from side to side. They hadn't been through all of this to be separated now.

The fistful of leaves tore easily away from the branch. Dean stalked north with his prize, to the place where the path split four ways. In times past, a left would have taken them to the baseball field where the both of them had played in a way they'd never been able to as children.

He punched rather than dug the hole in the ground.

When the last leaf was buried in the ground, Dean sat back on his haunches and waited. He didn't have anything left to barter with, even if a demon did come, but he had to know.

He had to know if this was truly done.

Comments

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Like a town crier was the sound of Dean returning. Every sound had Roger on edge, and when he looked out of his open door this time and saw the outline of his best friend, he tore off in that direction, guitar discarded onto his bed.

"Dean!" He called, unable to keep some of the relief from his voice. He was ripping into the sand in a way that was eerie, like bare hands into flesh, and Roger's brows met in the center of his forehead. "Dean, what are you doing?" His determination was the scrabble of the damned, and his mind went back to the conversation about being hellbound, ticking clocks. Robert Johnson. He still didn't piece it together.

"Hey!" He bellowed in a ditch effort to grab his attention.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean glanced up, too weary to register the shock of Roger's sudden presence. For a moment, he just looked at him, but Roger's eyes were the same blue they'd always been, and while his face wasn't unwelcome, it wasn't the one Dean had been hoping for.

He blinked at Roger slowly. "We didn't find him."

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Instead of sagging with sympathy, Roger's shoulders tightened another notch, but he didn't move to touch the other man. He knew how he would feel, how he had felt when people he loved disappeared, abd a reassuring touch on the fucking shoulder just didn't quite cut it.

"Im sorry," he said, stupid as it sounded. "What are you doing, though?" The hole was too small to be some kind of memorial or something.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean smoothed the sand over the hole and checked over his shoulder, but the path remained empty.

"This is how I got him back," he said, tilting his head back to watch Roger take that in. "The last time."

[loaded-wolf.livejournal.com]

Angua didn't know if she should give Dean space, or not. He'd certainly been opposed to every bit of comfort anyone had tried to give him over the past few days, he would hardly even look at her, and part of her wanted to distance herself in some form of self preservation. It would hurt less if it was her choice, right?

Except she couldn't, he was too important, and too much of her wanted to reach out, even if he refused it.

She'd let him leave when they got back, but she was scared and so she followed him. He was easy to find.

"Dean? What are you doing?" she asked, voice hushed.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Digging a hole," he answered quietly, and it wasn't the smartass reply it sounded like. Dean was digging a hole - for himself, for the happiness he'd gathered and was now threatening to smash, for the hope that when he turned around, Sam would be there again. All nearly lost and soon to be buried.

"He'd do it for me."

[loaded-wolf.livejournal.com]

"He's out there, and he might come back. It's happened, you'll be together again," Angua said, throat tightening enough to choke the words as they came out. She knew they were useless in the face of Sam being gone now, but what else could be said? She believed that the lives they lived here were separate from the ones back home, not just some forgotten blip in their timeline. Still, it didn't mean that Sam was gone forever.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"He's gonna get hurt," Dean ground out, terror he was trying to hard to hold at bay giving the words a rougher edge. "Things are - god." He pushed his hands through his hair, pulling them back when they trembled more than gave relief.

"More fucked than usual back home."

[babyviper.livejournal.com]

O-Ren had woven her existence in the search for Sam in and out, knowing she was faster, better on her own. She'd return only to the group of them when she needed reassurance that they were still there.

...no, maybe it was the presence of that kind of grief that would scatter her back into the trees. Her stomach twisted itself into knots, and she held onto her sense of order and sanity as tightly as she could. Maybe she'd go find Sweets, she thought. The last thing anyone needed was for her to have an attack.

But there was no denying the haunted look in Dean's eyes, so she turned into his shadow as best she could as he did-- something with the leaves.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

At his most alert Dean only found O-Ren when she wanted to be found. Even now, when he was actively looking for someone, it took him a moment to see her standing there and watching him.

"O-Ren," he said. She didn't look much worse for the wear, but he knew she had to be tired. "You should get some rest."

[babyviper.livejournal.com]

"So should you," she replied quietly, without much feeling. It was easier to let just a little bit of the numbness settle on top of everything else. Just don't get lost in it. "I'll sleep if you do."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean rubbed his hands over his face, only realizing how filthy they were when the dirt scraped against his cheek.

"Maybe in a little while," he said, and then, because she was just a kid, whatever else she was also, Dean said, "Thank you. For looking with us."

[little_moons]

"The fuck are you doin'?" I mutter. No accusation, no worry or anger or anything else in my voice. Just exhaustion, but nowhere near as much exhaustion as I can see in the set of his shoulders. I've been banging around the island for two days... with him, with Bobby and Ellen, with whoever the hell else I felt like I could be of help to at the time.

I'm tired. I wanna go home. I can't. Not yet.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Last thing I can do," Dean replied. There were plenty of others who could've asked the same question and gotten popped in the mouth for it, but Dean looked after Neil with nearly the same intensity as he did Sam.

Or had. God.

He looked up. Dean didn't think a demon was on its way, but if it was the last thing he wanted it to find was something important to Dean. Something that could be sacrificed.

"You should get out of here."

[little_moons]

"Fuck no," I answer simply, and just to prove he's not gonna change my mind, I drop into a crouch across from him. Fuckin' digging my heels in. Just try and make me go.

"What are you expectin' to happen?" I ask, arching a brow. Whatever it is, maybe I'm too stupid and too damn stubborn to be worried. Maybe I just can't leave him like this.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"Look around you, Neil." He didn't want to admit to it, as much for the folly of it as for the shame, but Dean knew Neil would work it out on his own.

"This is a crossroads. If there's a way to get him back, this is it."

[off-the-ceiling.livejournal.com]

Jess felt like she was wandering more than searching now, exhausted and a bit bruised up from pushing her way into places she was never meant to go and still wandering up and down paths looking, looking everywhere, waiting for that moment when she saw that familiar stance, those familiar hands, those familiar eyes.

It wasn't a surprise when she came across Dean instead; since the moment Sam had first disappeared, Jess hadn't really strayed far.

"Why isn't there something to shoot?" she said. "I could do that. I'm ready for that."

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"There's always something to shoot," Dean murmured, wishing he'd at least gotten some water before going to his luck with a tardy demon.

"Doesn't help."

[off-the-ceiling.livejournal.com]

"You sure?" said Jess. "Cause it feels like it would help." She didn't have a gun in her hand at the moment, but if she wanted one there it wouldn't take long. "You found something better?"

[devilwoman]

The last time Dean disappeared, Saffron had found Sam in the Hub and had gotten drunk with him. This time, Sam was the one who was gone and she found she couldn't drink, maybe because of before, when the situation had been reversed.

They'd been there for each other through some gorram tough times, and now she couldn't imagine him not on the island.

Saffron only had a vague idea of what Dean and Sam and their daddy and all them did where they came from, but she had a feeling whatever Dean was doing, burying something in the ground, had something to do with it. "What's the hole for, honey?" she asked, quiet, weary from the crying she'd been doing off and on for the past couple of days.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

"I don't know." The words were as weary as her own, threaded through with exhaustion and tight with tears Dean hadn't yet left himself shed. The hole was useless - he'd known that when he'd dug it, somewhere deep down.

Dean pushed the dirt from his palms. "You should get back to the Club. I won't - I don't think I'm coming in for a while."

[devilwoman]

"Don't you worry about the club. You come back whenever you're ready," Saffron replied. It wasn't that she didn't need him there, but it was more important for him to take whatever time away he needed. She'd figure something out.

For once, she didn't know what to say. Sorry wasn't going to cut it. Platitudes and optimistic statements that Sam might come back because Dean had done so twice seemed meaningless. So she simply crouched down next to him, reached one hand out to touch his lightly, letting him know she was there, and she cared.

[steel-singer.livejournal.com]

A crossroads, a hole dug in the ground, a hopeful person waitin' for the demon to appear to make the deal. Bobby didn't have to ask to know what Dean was doin'. It was the same thing he'd done before to bring Sam back, and Bobby still remembered openin' the door to find Sam standin' there, thankin' Bobby for patchin' him up like it had been no big deal. You stupid ass! he'd yelled at Dean, out among the junked cars in his yard.

He wasn't doin' no yellin' now. Wouldn't do anyone any good. So he just went and stood a little off to the side, where Dean could see him if he wanted to talk, and waited for the Crossroads Demon that was never showin' up.

[weary-head.livejournal.com]

Dean felt him there, that presence just within his range of sight, radiating disapproval and worse - pity. Those were Dean's assumptions, at least, when at last he raised his head from that hole in the ground.

"Not gonna shout this time?" he rasped out, too tired even to clear his throat.

[steel-singer.livejournal.com]

As angry as Bobby'd been at Dean the last time, he couldn't say he didn't understand it. Hell, if he'd known how back then, he probably would've done the same thing to bring his wife back. What he was feelin' for Dean right then wasn't pity, not at all. Definitely not disapproval.

"Not this time," he said, gruffer than usual, hat pulled low on his forehead. "Wouldn't do much good."