Welcome to Brothers in Arms. You guys supported me with Bond Of Brotherhood to an extent that blew my socks off. It made writing this story an exciting but scary experience, as I was so worried I would get it all wrong and disappoint. It's written now though, so all I can do is wait to see what you all think of it.

Jenjoremy has signed up to beta again — Chuck bless her. SandraEngstrom2 and Gredelina1 also deserve thanks again for all their help and support. They spent most evenings on Skype with me helping me get the ideas down on paper. I can't thank them enough.

I'll stop waffling now and let you read…

Chapter One

'Get Dean to Bobby's. Get Dean to Bobby's. He'll be safe at Bobby's.'

The thoughts reverberated around Sam's mind, spurring him on. He needed Dean safe. He needed to get him somewhere he couldn't do another damn fool thing.

'Like save your life'? a voice whispered.

But that was not all he'd done. He'd saved Sam, brought him back, but it was at the cost of his own life, and that didn't do a thing that could be counted as good for Sam.

"How was I supposed to live with that?" Dean had asked. How was Sam supposed to live with what Dean had done? Even after he'd broken the deal and saved him—he would save him—he had to live with the knowledge another of his family had made that sacrifice for him. What was Dean thinking believing Sam could ever be worth that? Sam would have to watch him continually now to make sure he didn't do anything else so damn stupid.

It didn't occur to Sam that what he was planning was equally as stupid as what Dean had done. For him, it was the only solution. He would save Dean from himself and then deal with the fallout when it was time.

"Sam," Dean said quietly from beside him.

Sam's hands tightened reflexively on the steering wheel. "Yes, Dean."

"Where are we going?"

"Bobby's," Sam said curtly.

"Oh. Okay. Makes sense I guess. Ellen and the others are there, too."

Ellen. Sam felt a pang of pain at the mention of her name. He desperately needed to see her and Jo. He couldn't though. There was something more important he needed to do.

They were in Sioux Falls before Dean spoke again. "How do you feel?"

Sam looked incredulous. "How'd you think?"

Dean grimaced. "I mean physically. You did take a bullet to the chest."

In truth, Sam ached. The broken ribs from Jake's attack and the gunshot wound were healed, but he still felt pain in his chest, as if there was a heavy weight there. If he wasn't himself, he would say it was heartache. His logical mind told him it was trauma, some internal injury from what had happened. The one comfort he had was that it wouldn't be there much longer.

"I'm fine," he said.

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, Dean," Sam said tiredly.

Dean heaved a sigh. Sam knew he was being difficult, but he couldn't help himself. There was too much that needed to be said, and he couldn't say a damn word of it. He didn't have it in him. He was too far gone.

Sam steered the car onto Bobby's property and through the junked cars to the house. He pulled to a stop and just sat for a moment without moving.

"It'll be okay, Sam," Dean said. "They need to see you."

That was probably true, but he couldn't see them. "I'll be in a minute," he said. "You prep them so Bobby doesn't try to take me down when he sees me." It was a believable story. Apparently good enough to fool Dean, as he opened the car door and climbed out.

"It'll be okay," Dean said again.

Sam nodded. "I know."

Dean closed the door and walked towards the house. Sam watched him go, just for a moment, and then changed gear. The wheels spun as he slammed a foot down and reversed. He yanked on the wheel, turning the car away from Dean, and rode off as fast as he could through the stacked cars. Through the rearview mirror he saw Dean running after him, but he didn't slow.

He thought he heard Dean shouting his name as he roared through the iron arch that marked the entrance to Bobby's yard. He felt a little bad about leaving this way, but he had more important things to worry about than hurting Dean's feelings. Soon he would hurt all of them a lot more.

The ride back to Wisconsin took long enough that dusk was falling again when he crossed the state lines. He wasn't sure of the day or how long he had lain dead in that cabin, but he supposed it didn't really matter.

His mind kept presenting him with images of his family as he had last seen them; Ellen smiling across the bar as he left for a hunt. Ash and Jo arguing over something stupid in the kitchen as the coffee brewed. Dean chasing the car.

He pushed each image away as quickly as it came. He couldn't think about them or what he was going to do to them now, especially Ellen. Dean would get her through it. If there was anyone better prepared to help them all, Sam didn't know who it could be. Dean had spent years training and perfecting the knowledge that he would need. And they would know why he did it. They would know because they would expect nothing less from him. He was a hunter and a brother. He would do what he had to do. He would save, because that was what he did.

He had to pass the cemetery where it had all happened on his way to where he suspected Dean had made his deal. As he drove by, he thought of another face he had seen recently: his father's. It was probably a hallucination, an adrenaline surged vision that his brain had used to give him strength and support just when he needed it. There was a possibility though, the smallest chance, that it had really been him. The gate had been open. The demons had been rushing out. If anyone could have dragged himself out, it was John Winchester.

Sam could only hope it was real.

It was obvious he'd found the right crossroads at first try as the center was still scuffed. He took a can of red spray-paint from the trunk and drew in a perfect devil's trap, big enough that the demon would arrive into it. He stepped back, checked his work, and then knelt and uncovered the small tin Dean had used, cursing as he did. It was the same one John had used when making his deal. Sam had dug it up after and stowed it in the trunk. It had been sentimental nonsense, but he hadn't wanted someone else to find it and wonder what had happened to the man that made that deal.

Dean had used his driver's license as his image for the summoning. Sam stowed it in his pocket and replaced it with his own fake Fed badge. He placed the tin back in the hole, kicked the dirt back over it, and stamped it down. All he could do now was wait. The demon would come, he was sure. It would be curious and ready to gloat.

He didn't have to wait long. A slow handclap came from behind him and he spun to see the demon a few feet away. It was in the form of a woman with long, black hair that cascaded down her back and deep red lips. Sam stepped back automatically, not wanting to be close to the foul thing, even though he knew more intimate closeness was to come.

"Another Winchester," she purred. "It's my lucky day."

Sam stood stony faced, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I have to say, it's good to see you up and alive again," she said. "How does it feel?"

"Every day's a gift."

She laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet. How's Dean? Has he been hit by dealer's remorse yet? That usually comes on pretty strong within a few hours."

"Dean's fine," Sam said stolidly. "He's going to be fine."

She laughed. "Sure he is. Keep telling yourself that, Winchester. It'll help you get through the next twelve months."

Sam glared at her. Dean probably did have remorse. Now the shock had worn off, he would see just how stupid he had been thinking Sam was worth it. Did John have the same regrets as the hounds came for him? Did he curse Sam's name as the hounds tore him apart? Possibly. Probably. Almost certainly. There was nothing Sam could do about that now though, nothing but hope what he had seen in that cemetery was real—Please let it be real.

He could do nothing for his father, but he could do something for Dean. That was why he was here.

"I want you to break the deal," Sam said. "Give Dean his life back in exchange for mine."

She raised an eyebrow. "Wow. I did not see that one coming. Oh, wait, yeah I did. Winchesters, you're all so damn predictable. Daddy sold his soul for his Sammy. Sam came back and royally screwed his brother over, and then Dean—God knows what possessed him to do it—sold his soul. Now Sammy wants to save Dean. It's like a merry-go-round of stupidity in your family, isn't it?"

"Break the deal," Sam growled. His heart pounded in his chest. It wasn't from fear for himself. He knew coming out here that he was coming to his death. He would break the deal and that would cost his life, but it would be worth it. It was what was supposed to happen. His heart was pounding with the fear that she would refuse him.

She sauntered to the very edge of the devil's trap, the tips of her black stilettos nudging the paint. "No."

It wasn't like Sam had expected this to be easy. She wouldn't be a demon if she let things go without a fight. "Maybe this will persuade you," he said smoothly, reaching round to the back of his pants and pulling the colt. He leveled it between her eyes. To her credit, she didn't jump back or show fear, but she did step back slowly, lazily, as if she knew he wouldn't pull the trigger. She was wrong. He would.

She stood in the very middle of the trap and raised her arms at her sides, presenting herself as a target. "Well, I can't deny it's persuasive, but my answer's the same. No."

Sam clicked off the safety. "Break the deal."

"No."

"I will shoot you."

"You really won't," she said confidently. "You won't because there's still something you want from me, isn't there?"

Sam lowered the gun slightly, aiming at her throat now. "What do I want?"

"Come on, Winchester. I know you're not particularly loquacious, but even you can string together a few words for this. Dean's worth it, right?"

Sam drew a deep breath, released it, and spoke in a low, menacing voice. "Deal with me. I want Dean off the hook and me on. I don't want time. I just want it to be over." That was important. Ellen, Jo, Ash, they were already doing their grieving. If he died now it would be easier for them than if they had time to accept his return just for him to die again. It wouldn't help Dean much, because he had already seen Sam's resurrection for himself, but there was nothing Sam could do about that.

"You mean it," she said. "You'd give up this new lease on life and go to the pit for him."

"He did it for me."

"Yes, but you actually have something to offer the world. You save lives. What does Dean do except wipe the nose of sniveling children dealt a bad hand in life?"

"He saves lives, too," Sam said. "He just does it in a different way."

She clucked her tongue. "Listen to you. I'm practically tearing up at this show of love." She swiped a hand over her cheek as if wiping away tears. "Unfortunately, the answer's the same. No. I won't deal with you."

Sam dropped the colt back to his side. "Why not?"

"Because…." She sighed. "Because we all have a boss. I can't deal with you. It's forbidden."

"Forbidden?" Sam laughed harshly. "What kind of demon are you? Do you always follow the rules? Are you that much of a coward?"

"I'm a demon that likes my life," she said. "I don't screw with the rules because I don't want to be stuffed back into the deepest levels of Hell for a Winchester. Besides, I really don't have a choice in this. Like I said, it's forbidden."

Sam shook his head. "You're pathetic."

She scowled at him. "When I say forbidden, I don't mean it's a bit naughty to do it. I mean it's actually impossible. I have to have Hell's backing for every deal I make. That's just the way it works. I could say the words, seal it with a kiss, but you'd stay alive and Dean would still be counting down the days to the hounds. It. Is. Forbidden."

"Then break the deal," Sam said. "You made that deal. You've got to have the power to get rid of it."

"Stupidity, thy name is Winchester. I don't hold the contract. As soon as that sweet deal came through, it was snatched up by the boss. There's no getting it back and there's no breaking it while they hold it. My boss is badass."

"Who is your boss?"

She scoffed. "Like I'm going to tell you."

"Forbidden is it?"

"Actually, yes it is."

"That's a shame," Sam said. "You just became expendable." He raised the gun again.

"No! Wait!" She gasped, showing the first actual sign of fear since Sam arrived. "I'll tell you. Don't shoot me."

Sam smiled grimly. "Well?"

"Promise you won't kill me?"

"I promise."

She narrowed her eyes. "Ellsworth. He's the one you need."

"Thank you," Sam said. He locked eyes with her, wanting to see it happen, wanting to see her die for what she had done to Dean. He pulled the trigger. The bullet hit her in the center of the forehead, making her head fly back and a spray of blood shoot out behind her as the energy crackled through her. She dropped like a stone and Sam walked forward and bowed over her. "I never was good at keeping promises."

He shoved her away from the center of the trap, retrieved the tin, and carried it back to the Impala. He threw it onto the backseat as he climbed in behind the wheel. For a moment he was okay, calm even, and then the true weight of what had just happened settled over him and he began to punch and pummel the steering wheel and dash, shouting curses. He did it until his knuckles burned and his arms ached, and then he fell forward over the dashboard, exhausted.

"Dammit, Dean," he moaned.

So… What did you think of the first chapter of Brothers in Arms?

This story was a rollercoaster of a ride to write — I did it all in just over a month — and I can't wait to share it all with you.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx