weary_head | (no subject)

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.

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Angua pulled Dean against her, hand tightening in his hair and shirt. "I know," she said, voice cracking until a few tears escaped her tightly closed eyes. What she knew was that if given the choice, Dean would go where Sam was. She couldn't be mad about that, they were family, more than family. She just wanted Dean here, to stay, and to not have his whole life fall apart because Sam was gone. She was afraid of what this would do to him, more than what it already had.

"I'll take care of you," she said into his hair. "It'll be okay, I promise."

"He needs somebody to look after him," Dean continued, even though she'd already given him a pass. He needed her to understand it. "He gets caught up in things, always has. I wouldn't leave you. But if I could bring him back here..."

Don't want to and wouldn't were completely different things, and Angua couldn't help the small sob that came from hearing it. She'd never wanted to let someone else mean so much to her, and here it had happened, in the most ambivalent place possible. She hurt when he hurt, and she'd do anything she could to keep him happy.

Though the crying was probably a mixture of everything, the exhaustion from searching, her sympathy and worry for Dean, her love for Dean, even losing Sam herself - he had been a very dear friend, had become like family to her.

"I'd bring him here, too, if I could."

"Yeah," said Dean, breath a sore lump in his throat. "I know." The hope that Sam might return wasn't enough to sustain him, not nearly enough, but what could he do? Rage and rail against something that didn't deserve it? There'd be time for that, but Dean's life wasn't just Sam's anymore. He had others to think of, so many others, and so he took a deep breath, and then another, holding himself together for a moment more.