Debts

Sam rubbed his eyes in frustration and slammed the book closed with unnecessary force. He shoved it away across the smooth formica top of Bobby's kitchen table and leaned back in the rickety old chair. He had barely even begun to scratch the surface of the research Bobby had available on demons and mythology. The ancient tomes that lined every room of the older man's house beckoned with the promise of an answer to the current dilemma, but Sam was already starting to feel a sense of foreboding – like he may not be able to actually find a way to save his brother.

What if there really was no way? What if the pact Dean had made with the crossroads demon was iron clad and there really was no way to break the deal? How would Sam be able to live with the knowledge that his brother had literally given up his soul for him? That Dean was burning in hell so that he could live? How had Dean been able to live with the knowledge that their Dad had gone to hell for him?

Sam ran a hand through his hair and quickly pushed himself up from the table. He was not going to let himself think this way. There was still plenty of time to figure this out. He was not going to let his frustration or desperation get in the way of helping his brother. He just had to keep reminding himself to focus. Focus on the one thing that mattered.

A way to save Dean.

Bobby had kept his promise. Despite having become the unofficial director of the new war with the demons, he had helped Sam every chance he could. He had sent out feelers to other hunters for any information about crossroads demons and hopefully someone somewhere would know something that could point them in the right direction.

In the meantime, the Winchesters had been able to take out a few of these new adversaries, always coming back to Bobby's as a sort of home base. Sam had taken to loading up books and reading them in the car, well aware of the ticking clock that was his brother's life.

Although Dean had groused about Sam constantly having his nose in a book, the younger brother had simply smiled and reminded his sibling that it was his own fault for making such a crappy deal. That argument always effectively brought the grumbling to a halt, allowing Sam to go back to his task. He had only managed to go through a small percentage of Bobby's books, but he steadfastly kept at it. There was something in one of these books that was going to give them a way to break the deal. He had to keep believing that.

Another area of frustration was Dean himself.

Although Sam had never expected Dean to go all chick-flick and open up about what he was feeling concerning his new expiration date, he had expected Dean to at least show some interest in his own survival. But, so far, Dean hadn't offered to get involved, and had managed to steer clear of the subject by burying himself in work at the junk yard, claiming that someone had to keep Bobby's business running while the older man was trying to organize the hunters into a force to compete with the demon army.

Stepping out onto the porch, Sam took a deep breath of fresh air and squinted across the yard. He could barely make out his brothers legs sticking out from underneath an old pick-up, his foot tapping to the tinny beat coming from an old radio set on top of a pile of used tires.

Shaking his head, Sam made his way down the steps and across the yard just as Dean pulled himself from under the truck. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Sam waited while his brother hopped into the vehicle and started her up, grinning as the engine turned over and the old truck purred like it had just come off the assembly line.

"That should do it." Dean said proudly as he killed the engine and hopped down from the truck's cab.

"Great," Sam returned the grin. "That the last of them?"

Dean nodded as he bent to pick up the tools he'd been using. "The last for now. If anything else comes up, I can take care of it after we get back from our next gig."

Sam simply nodded, watching as his brother replaced the tools in their respective places in the large red tool box and wiped his hands on a greasy rag. Dean really loved working on these old cars. If they had not been forced into a life of hunting, Sam had no doubt that Dean would have been content working in a garage, his hands constantly stripping, rebuilding and coaxing life from metal parts. Dean may have never been book smart like Sam, but he was a genius in his own way. Give him an engine, or a piece of electronics and he could have it humming within minutes.

Sam had always been secretly amazed at his brother's ability to fix things. Hell, the fact that the Impala was running better than ever was nothing short of a miracle considering it had been nothing but a twisted piece of metal that even Bobby had deemed unworthy of saving. But Dean had brought her back to life piece by piece – just like Sam had known he would.

"Good. Then maybe you can give me a hand with some of this research?"

Dean stopped for a moment before turning, carefully avoiding his brother's gaze. He was well aware of what his brother was researching… what he had been researching ever since they had returned from Wyoming. "Uh, maybe later, Sammy. I've got a lot to clean up around here. Bobby'd kill me if I left the garage like this."

Sam's frustration raised its head again and he took a deep breath to reign in his temper. "Come on, Dean. There's hundreds of books, we need to –"

"I said later, Sam." Dean still hadn't met his brother's eyes and the finality in his voice broke Sam's last restraint.

"Come on, man! What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam closed the space between the two in three strides and roughly grabbed his brother's arm, turning the shorter man to face him. "Bobby and I are working our asses off trying to find a way to help you and you can't even give me a few minutes of your time? What? Do you want to die?

Dean's eyes finally met Sam's and he flinched at the flash of anger in the green depths. "Of course not!"

"Then help us!"

"I can't."

Sam's eyes widened at the response. "What?"

Dean pulled his arm from his brother's grip, the anger in his eyes suddenly replaced by sadness and something Sam could only label as fear.

"I'm sorry, Sam." The older man turned away and started for the safety of the garage, but Sam wasn't about to let this go. He had finally managed to reach something in his brother and he fully intended to push it for all it was worth.

Long legs working to his advantage, he was able to sidestep his brother and stop directly in front of him, one hand planted on Dean's chest to effectively block his escape. "Dean? Dean… talk to me, man."

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath before slowly raising his head and giving Sam a look of apology. "I'm sorry. I can't help you." He shrugged, his whole body screaming defeat. "I can't take the chance."

Sam wasn't sure why his brother was acting like this, but he was sure that the defeat that showed on Dean's face scared the hell out of him. Never in his life had he known his brother to give up without a fight. The fact that he seemed to be doing just that – and with his own life in the balance – made Sam's skin turn cold.

"Dean," Sam kept his voice low, trying to keep the fear from showing. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Dean lowered his head again and ran a hand across the back of his head. When he finally looked up, he stared at a spot behind Sam's shoulder, not able to look his brother in the eye. "The demon. It told me that if I tried to welch or weasle out then the deal was off." He brought his eyes to his brother's and shrugged. "You'd drop dead." He shook his head sadly before dropping his eyes again and staring at the greasy rag in his hands. "I can't take that chance, Sammy. I'm sorry."

Sam swallowed hard and took a step back, finally dropping his hand from his brother's chest. He nodded slowly as he accepted his brother's words, his heart in his throat as he considered the extent of Dean's deal. The demon had made sure Dean wouldn't be able to go back on the deal. It had known his brother was desperate and it had used that desperation to force him into an agreement that would effectively tie his own hands and leave him without any recourse to save himself.

Sam felt a knot of anger bloom in his belly. If that damn demon thought he was going to just sit back and let it take his brother without a fight, it didn't know shit about the Winchesters.

"Fine," he said in a hushed tone. He looked at his brother, registering the resignation on his face. "If we can't break the deal, then we'll just have to find a way to kill the demon."

"No, Sam." Dean shook his head sadly. "We send it back to hell, it's just gonna claw it's way out and come after us anyway."

Sam squared his shoulders and gave his brother a look of sheer determination. "I didn't say we were gonna send it to hell. I said we're gonna kill it. " He took a step forward and fisted one hand in Dean's t-shirt. He leaned down, making sure he held his brother's eyes as he repeated his promise. "I'm not going to let it take you, Dean."

Dean placed a hand over his brother's but didn't try to pull away. "How, Sam, huh? The colt's out of bullets. That's the only way we know how to really kill a demon."

"We'll find a way."

"Sam…"

Sam shook his head and pressed his fist against his brother's chest. "I meant what I said, Dean. I don't care what it takes. I'm gonna get you out of this. I'm gonna save you. Now are you going to help m e or not?"

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't find any words. He could only give his brother an apologetic look before dropping his eyes.

Sam simply nodded and let go of Dean's shirt. He took a moment to smooth the material before dropping his hand and taking a breath. "Okay. We'll keep you out of it. But I'm not giving up" His words brought a slight grin to his brother's mouth. He waited for Dean to look at him before returning the grin. "I'm gonna save you, Dean. And when I do, you are gonna owe me big time, dude."

The end.