The Mystery Which Binds

By: Coffeemaniac

A/N: Season 7. Takes place between The Born Again Identity and Party on Garth. Bobby is dead and the boys don't know that his spirit is attached to the flask. Reviews and Comments are welcome and appreciated.

Alone by: Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.

Part 1

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

It took a while for Dean to convince Sam that leaving Castiel at the Northern State hospital under Meg's watch was okay. Sam felt guilty having his nightmare shifted into the angel, but Dean didn't. Cas broke the wall that Death had put in place to protect Sam. There may have been some cracks in the plaster but the wall might have remained if Cas hadn't interfered. So, Dean didn't feel guilty and he made a decision for all of them. Meg would stay with Castiel while Dean took Sam to Rufus' cabin for some much needed recuperation time.

Frazzled and feeling unbalanced, Dean needed to regroup while Sam needed to sleep, eat and get his strength back. The time Sam spent in the psychiatric hospital had been filled with hallucinations, a ghost hunt and a battleground with demons. It was more than anyone should have to deal with, especially in his weakened state.

Dean started the drive from Indiana to Montana determined to go straight through. He wanted to put distance between the hospital and his brother, he wanted to leave the trauma in his rear view but after twelve hours or so Sam argued and cajoled until Dean admitted he needed to sleep. It added six hours to the trip but at least they made it alive.

Dean didn't feel safe until they reached the cabin. Between the Leviathan and the demons at the hospital, he felt like public enemy #1, and with Sam at only half-strength, he worried every moment while they were on the road.

When they finally reached the cabin, Dean salted the doors and windows, and painted enough warding symbols to keep out everything including Big Foot and Ted Bundy. He ignored Sam when his brother said that he was overreacting. Dean already knew that he was in full-blown protective mode and he couldn't stop.

Rufus's cabin lacked some amenities like dependable electricity and good plumbing. But, it had running water for showers, even if the showers were cold, propane connections for the stove and refrigerator, and a fireplace for heat.

Calling it rustic gave it a lot of charm that didn't really exist but there were beds, a couch and a small television. The TV only broadcast random channels but it was better than nothing.

The wood floors and wood walls were scratched and dented. The ceiling sagged from too much rain and snow over the years. Dean was fairly sure if he pulled a wall out then they would be inundated with creepy crawlies and mold. But all of that didn't matter because it was a relatively safe roof over their heads. Something they both needed.

Or maybe it was only Dean. But, Sam's hallucinations had almost killed him. And then demons had come to the hospital to finish the job. If they hadn't lucked into finding Cas, Dean would be burning his brother's body now instead of locking down Rufus's cabin. So, if Dean needed extra security then Sam could suck it up and deal with it.

Sam being Sam didn't do that, of course. He stubbornly refused to be treated like an invalid. He hated every nice thing that Dean tried to do for him. Dean responded by ignoring his brother's complaints.

It took complete exhaustion for Sam to finally surrender. He stumbled, swooning like a femme fatale and landed on the couch. Dean didn't know which one of them was more surprised. Sam looked up from where he sat, all wide eyed and reminding Dean of a little kid.

"Sleep?" Dean said

"Yeah, I think so."

Sam settled into the nest that Dean had built on the couch and fell asleep.

Twenty three hours after arriving at Rufus' cabin, Sam's cell rang which was odd because they changed phones on a daily basis. It was also odd because the only person they kept informed of their new numbers was a hunter named Garth Fitzgerald and Dean had already told Garth they were taking some time off.

The ringing woke Sam up so he answered with a bleary "hello" then waved at Dean as he greeted Lee Chambers. Lee was a hunter. A few weeks earlier he had run into trouble tracking a couple Vetala. Dean and Sam had rescued him and in the process, Dean had befriended Lee's young daughter.

"Are they all right," Dean asked while Sam was still on the phone. "Krissy?"

"They're fine, Dean. Pipe down a minute."

After that, Sam spent the next several minutes talking to Lee and writing notes on the back of a magazine. When he finally hung up, Sam rubbed his face and stood up. He still looked pale.

"This is a little unbelievable even by our standards," Sam said.

"Then I can't wait to hear about it."

Dean sat down on the end of the couch and drank from Bobby's flask.

"He says the crossroads demons are creating some kind of entertainment center where they specialize in wish fulfillment."

"What kind of entertainment center? Sounds like porn."

"Everything sounds like porn to you. Entertainment center is probably the wrong term. It sounds more like those pizza chains that have all the games and stuff for kids."

Dean grinned. "Plucky's."

Sam scowled. "Yeah."

"Didn't we already do this with that place? Grant wishes, people die."

"Yeah, but this is different. It's for adults and the big wish costs your soul."

Dean shook his head. "How would that even work?" Before Sam could answer, Dean continued. "And how does Lee know about it? For that matter, where did he get your number?"

"He says he was registering Krissy for school and on his way home, he overheard some demons talking. He followed them and got this story."

"He just happened to hear demons talking?"

"Yeah, I thought that was odd too. But, he sounded pretty convinced. Right place, right time, I guess. Anyway he's trying to get out of hunting because of his daughter, so he flipped it to us."

"Doesn't sound right. How did he get your number?"

"Garth gave it to him."

"Damn it, I told Garth to leave us alone for a few days."

"You did?"

Dean shrugged.

"You didn't have to do that," Sam said.

Dean shrugged again then moved on. "Okay, so they build these little "deal factories" and the adults play games for wishes. I guess it'd be rigged so they win, right? So, they can get down to the deal."

"Probably."

"But, they don't exist yet?"

"According to Lee it's still in the planning stage. He doesn't know where they're supposed to start building either."

"Could he give us less to go on?"

Sam smiled. "He thinks he knows the name of the architectural firm that's handling it."

Sam scooped his laptop off the kitchen table and brought it back to the couch. He scooted into the back corner and put his feet on the coffee table before resting the device on his legs.

Dean watched him, not liking his sluggish movements or his pasty complexion.

"You know this could probably wait another day," Dean said.

"We don't know that."

Sam spent the next several hours clicking away at his computer. Somehow, he managed to connect to the internet even out in the wilds of Montana. Finding Griffith and Associates Architectural Firm was the easy part. After that it was a matter of breaking into their online records for some kind of thread that might lead to plans for an adult arcade. Sam accomplished that and then switched over to the City of Keuka in upstate New York where the building permits had been filed.

Dean managed to get him to stop long enough to eat a can of Hormel chili but then Sam went back to his research until finally, he couldn't force his eyes to stay open any longer. When he went to make a pot of coffee, Dean stood in his way.

"Seriously, man, you have to sleep."

"Dean, we need to know…"

"It'll still be there in the morning. You look like death so I know your mind isn't clipping away at a good pace anymore. Just sleep for a few hours so you don't miss anything, all right?"

Sam frowned and shifted like he was going to argue but Dean knew his brother. If Sam thought he might make a mistake then he'd stop. Sam gave up the coffee and settled into his nest on the couch. A few minutes later the soft snores buried in an old pillow told Dean he had done the right thing.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Several hours later when morning broke through the trees around the cabin, Dean lay on the cot near the fireplace and thought about making coffee. He heard Sam groan from the couch. Then his soft voice disturbed the silence of the morning. Dean was sure he hadn't meant to be heard.

"I hate this," he whispered and sighed.

"Hate what?" Dean asked.

"Being sick."

Dean knew it was true. Sam despised feeling ill and had for as long as Dean could remember.

"Do you remember when I threw up in the Impala?" Sam asked.

"You mean when you were little? Like five or something?"

"Yeah. My stomach hurt and I couldn't tell Dad."

Dean rolled on to his side. "Why couldn't you tell him? He was right there."

"He was in a bad mood. I remember he kept sniping at you so I just kept it to myself."

"No you didn't," Dean said, wryly, thinking about the first time he heard the words "projectile vomiting."

Sam chuckled. "Dad made you clean it up."

"He helped. But, it was worse for you. You were so sick and he buckled you into the front seat because he was afraid you'd wander on to the freeway. You kept saying that the smell hurt your tummy." Dean laughed as he pictured his tiny brother trying to hold his nose between pudgy fingers to block out the vile odor.

"And he wouldn't stop, remember?" Sam said. "He had to get to that next hunt so he made you sit in the back with me. It seemed like we drove for hours and all he did was bitch at you for not telling him that I was sick."

"Yeah, well, Dad was like you. Goal oriented. Of course I would have told him you were sick if you had told me."

The memory of finally arriving at a motel ran through Dean's mind. Dad picked Sam up and carried him into the room. He put him in a warm shower, gave him some liquid medicine, dressed him in pajamas and put him to bed. Then he went out to the trunk and grabbed some canned soups and plastic bowls. He came back in and gave them to Dean and told him to make sure that Sam ate.

Dad left after that and didn't come back until the middle of the night.

"So, what's wrong with you, anyway?" Dean asked, letting the memory fade, as he put his feet on the floor.

"I'm fine."

Just like that the moment passed and Sam returned to stoicism. He stood up, padded off to the bathroom then returned to the kitchen to make coffee. Dean waited until the bathroom was open and went to take a lukewarm shower. They hadn't quite managed to get the water heater working properly.

Dean spent the next few hours trying to figure out Dick Roman's next move. He played with the information that Frank Devereaux had provided, writing down scenarios then seeing if they fit Leviathan behavior. Sam continued looking into Griffith Architecture and studying building plans. When he flipped the laptop closed and sat back, Dean set down the photos he'd been studying.

"I don't know," Sam said. "Nothing matches. I mean, I'm no expert on video arcades but there would have to be a lot of electricity, right?"

"Yeah, there would. Maybe there's nothing to this. Lee could have gotten it wrong."

"I think we should go there. To Keuka. Talk to people. See if they've had any unusual client requests. Heck, just see what they're working on up close and personal."

"Do you know how far it is to upstate New York?"

"So what? We're not working anything here."

"Other than Bobby's murder, you mean," Dean said, a ping of anger running up his spine.

Sam rubbed his eyes. "We're not getting anywhere with that. I want to find Dick Roman too but right now? I just don't see how we're doing that."

"But, this maybe from Lee Chambers? That's what we want to pursue?"

"The source is solid. Griffith Architectural exists. What's it going to hurt to look into it?"

Dean sighed. He didn't want to split their time, especially on something so flimsy. He would rather have Sam working on getting well. But, they didn't have any new leads on how to kill Leviathan or take out Dick Roman. Sam was obviously getting antsy and Dean didn't think he'd rest anymore.

An hour later they had the car ready to go and were heading towards the I-90.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Two hours into the trip Dean pulled off the freeway and into a convenience store parking lot. He intended to drive well into the night and wanted coffee and snacks. Sam had his nose buried in his laptop and didn't notice the change until they were turning off the exit on to a side road that led to the store. He looked up and around and rubbed his eyes.

"Hungry," Dean said as he parked. "Need anything?"

"Juice," Sam answered. He closed his computer and set it aside before climbing out of the car. He stretched and then pointed towards the bathroom.

"'kay," Dean said before heading inside.

Sam followed the restroom signs around to the back of the building. He passed the women's room door first, finding two soccer mom types standing outside chattering at each other about having to wait. He continued to the men's room which was not occupied and pushed the door open. Just as he took one step inside something collided with him from behind and he stumbled into the block wall. He caught himself with both hands then spun around to face whatever had shoved him. He only made it halfway before hands dug into his shirt and threw him next to the urinal. He just missed the porcelain and landed in a heap between it and the sink. Scrambling around, he found the two soccer moms, black eyes staring back at him. The blonde grabbed his leg, yanking with demon strength to drag him back into the middle of the bathroom floor. The red head delivered a sharp kick into his side that had Sam curling up even as he scraped his feet against the floor trying to stand up.

He didn't have any salt or holy water on him. His jacket with his supply of both was laying in the backseat of the stolen Ford they were driving.

The red head growled as she kicked out again. Sam gripped her ankle before the blow hit and twisted sending her wheeling into the door jamb. The blonde was momentarily distracted by her companion and Sam shoved out with a hard jab, kicking her square in the face. She cocked her head, looking more surprised than hurt despite the blood streaming from her nose. With both hands she grabbed Sam's shirt and dragged him up only to slam him hard into the closest wall. Her small stature saved him from hitting his head but the momentum knocked the breath out of him. His legs gave out and he sank towards the floor. Both of the women drew knives out, the red head lifted her arm and Sam flung his own arms over himself hoping to block as he kicked towards her.

A moment later the sound of screaming forced Sam to shuffle his way towards the wall. He looked up in time to see Dean drenching the two demons in holy water. Dean spun clockwise as he slit the throat of the blonde then drove the demon killing knife into the chest of the red head. The red head collapsed in a rage of sound while the blonde choked as their host bodies died with them.

Dean held his hand out and pulled Sam up as they clasped grips.

"You all right?" Dean asked, sounding breathless.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good."

Dean stayed in Sam's personal space as he examined his face and put a hand against his forehead. Sam scowled as he knocked Dean's hand away and stepped back.

"I said I'm all right."

"What the hell just happened?" Dean said, still looking unhappy.

"I don't know. They were standing outside the women's room when I passed and then they jumped me."

"Why?"

Sam shrugged as the new bruises started throbbing. He winced silently then said, "I don't know."

"It's weird they'd jump you out here like this. They usually stay clear unless…"

"Maybe they know where we're going."

"But, how did they find us?"

Sam shrugged. He didn't know.

"Come on. Let's get some distance," Dean said. Sam agreed. He didn't want to be caught with two dead bodies.

"How'd you even know to…" Sam started to ask.

"I didn't," Dean said. "I was looking for a quiet place to make a call."

As they reached the car, adrenaline drained out of Sam leaving his limbs shaking and weak. He collapsed into the passenger's side of the car, feeling sweat trickle down his neck. The injuries were nothing, barely worth acknowledging, except for the chorus of pain shooting through his torso.

"Sammy," Dean's voice broke through his focus. He could tell it wasn't the first time his name had been said.

"I'm okay," he said.

"Yeah, I can see that." Dean's dry answer sounded like an accusation.

"I've been in a lot worse shape than this, Dean."

"Not when you're just coming off hell visions or after being at death's door."

"I'm a little weak, okay, but I'm fine. I've been tossed around by demons before. Nothing's broken, no concussion. Just let it go."

"I don't like getting ambushed, Sam," Dean said as he pulled out of the parking lot. "How'd they know where we'd be? Why would they care?"

"A location spell isn't that hard to do. I don't know why they'd bother though. There's no reason why they should know what we're working on."

"Unless it's a trap. What if Lee's information was planted? Maybe they wanted him to contact us."

"Then why jump us here? Why point us to New York just to try and kill us at a random rest stop? For that matter, how would they even know we were going to stop there?"

Dean just shook his head. He didn't have any more answers than Sam did. As they entered the freeway again, Sam fished his laptop out of the backseat.

TBC