No Going Back

Set right after 4.22-Dean always tried to keep his little brother safe, tried to protect him from being changed by the horrors and the injuries and the life they've had to lead but he couldn't stop the change that Sam did to himself.

Don't own 'em, just love 'em. Wish ta hell I worked for Kripke.

The wonderful thing about this site is the inspiration the writers here offer each other in terms of encouragement and bouncing ideas around to help to make the process of getting more out of our imaginations than we ever thought possible. This story would never have been written if it were not for the inspiration of two such writers. claire beaubien and her story "Hands" and staceycj and her story "Demon Eyes" They both took the ball to what might happen next for our boys and ran with it down two different paths and from their muse I saw a third road open up and tried my hand and going down it. That being said I fully acknowledge their inspiration for this. And as an aside to PlatinumRoseLady, Yes, there is a shower scene I wrote for your own enjoyment. Don't worry kids it's artistically done.

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For a million moments it seemed like Sam was frozen to the spot as the blinding bright light expanded from the hole at their feet and seemed to surround them. Dean couldn't get him to budge.

Dean tugged at his shirt again and again, "Come on Sam we gotta get out of here!" "NOW!" He yelled and the final pull got Sam off balance enough to jerk him around to face Dean and for a second it looked to Dean like there was an expression of rapture on his brother's face.

"Huh?" Sam's eyes blinked rapidly then focused. And his expression turned to fear.

Dean had seconds to think, He's back, before he pulled and shoved Sam in front of himself as they both ran out of the convent.

They made a bee line for the small car and Dean rounded the drivers side and was about to slide in when a quick glance toward the passengers seat showed Sammy's torso still framed by the open door hesitating to get in.

"Damn!" Dean ran back around the car and pushed and shoved his brother' gargantuan frame into the vehicle before slamming the door shut. He sprinted back around and dove feet first into the drivers seat. His right foot punched the peddle as he floored the car in a turf n' gravel spray half way up the drive before careening on two wheels to head out to the nearest anywhere that was farthest from here.

Once he felt himself breath again Dean spared Sam a few quick glances and what he saw did not look good. Sam sat silent in the seat next to him. Well, almost silent. He was making a low keening sound, the kind of noise wounded wild animals make and shivering like he was cold but there was a sheen of glistening sweat coating his face. Shock. Had to be. No telling what that demon bitch made Sam go through before I could kill her. Then Dean remembered. We could kill her, Sam had grabbed her so I could gank her. We offed the bitch... he was with me again. Dean turned to really look at his brother then.

"We gotta find a place to crash." Dean said to him but got no reaction from the shivering man. "Sammy! You with me? You don't look so good and we gotta find a place to let you lie down." Still nothing.

Dean sighed his worry into the darkness of the night and pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator of the already speeding car.

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The first gas station they stopped at Dean got out to fill her up and decided to check into the trunk for anything that might make their escape easier.

That's when he found the body.

He closed the trunk lid slowly and casually. A cold sweat suddenly shimmered over him as he ran a hand down over his face and looked through the back window of the car at the hunched back of his brother. Sammy, what did you do? Screw it, I know what you did. Dean thought of the face of the woman and her bloody torn throat. I know why you did it, you fuckin believed those lies that Ruby filled you with...well, hell. She screwed you six ways to Sunday, I wonder if you even believed you were savin' this civilian from something worse?"

He'd have to ditch the car. Take time they didn't have to salt and burn the corpse. Hell, better yet torch the whole car; get rid of any traceable evidence Sam might have left behind. Dean straightened his shoulders walked with purpose into the convenience store to pick up the supplies. If anyone asked about the two cans of charcoal lighter fluid but no charcoal he'd tell them the stock lie-they were going camping.

The unknown woman's final resting place was behind an abandoned mill where empty factory windows weren't the only mute witnesses to the fire-engulfed vehicle that was now her funeral pyre.

Sam had stood by watching the car burn. His eyes, Dean thought as he studied his brother for a reaction, reflected the flames eerily. And though Sammy'd stopped shivering in the warmth of the blaze, even to Dean it was too macabre a thought to have his brother's shocky body warmed by the pyre's heat. So Dean tugged and nudged his brother over the wooded hill and boosted their next car from a mall parking lot a quarter mile away.

He drove all night.

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Sam still hadn't said a word but the keening had stopped after they drove away in the new stolen car. And about two hours into the drive he'd fallen asleep.

Dean looked over and studied his brother's face. And his heart pinched. It was the same face he'd seen sleeping on the passenger's side of the Impala for years, hell, forever. He had to get Sam back. Had to get the Sam that was inside, back behind that face.

"Sammy..." Dean spoke softly as he remembered better days and an answering "Hummphhhh?" came from the big sleeping man. He's still in there, " Dean couldn't believe how ridiculously relieved he was just to hear that garbled response. He smiled and wiped a stray tear that had leaked from his eye he was convinced if you're still in there than its all do-able bro, he thought.

At about 8:00am Dean pulled the car into a typical no-tell motel.

"Hey," He said giving his brother's great shoulder a firm shake. "Time to wake up and go to sleep."

"Huhhhhhwhaaa?" was Sam's reply. Dean got out went around and opened Sam's door. He waited as his brother got out. He watched as Sam unfolded his impossibly tall form in slow halting stages from its compacted shape. When his brother was remotely close to standing unaided beside the car Dean gently guided his unsteady body inside the motel room to the far bed. And sat him down.

They had no duffels to unpack just the pair of new toothbrushes and tube of toothpaste Dean had purchased with the other "camping" supplies he'd bought at the convenience store.

With Sam sitting on the bed Dean took out a new penlight and flashed it first in one of Sam's eyes then the other checking for signs of concussion or further shock. At first Sam just squinted and didn't even try to bat the offending light away then with a move quicker than Dean would have given him credit for he grabbed the light out of Dean's hand and clicked it off. "M'alright". He said faintly but still didn't make eye contact.

Dean just frowned and went to put his palm on Sam's forehead. The clammy cold skin felt just like he feared it would.

"I need you to warm up Sammy take a long hot shower, I'll take mine in the morning you just get your body temp back up to the living."

Sam half snorted at that and slowly eased himself up off the bed and went into the bathroom. He didn't want to think right now he just needed to be on autopilot for the time being.

Once inside the small clean room he noticed the walls were painted that new color, Aubergnene, it was called he thought, though it looked like dark purple to him. It made the room feel dark. And dark was good right now. He took his clothes off slowly, purposely avoiding looking in the large mirror that filled wall between the cabinet and ceiling, His hands and legs refused to be co-coordinated, shaking and not being still as he tried to undress and carefully fold up the clothes to put them on the long counter of the sink cabinet. There would be no fresh clothes to get into tomorrow so he couldn't afford to just toss them on the floor. A weak smile graced his lips as he realized that recognizing that fact was a big thought for him to have right now and he grimly congratulated himself for processing that much.

He slid the showers glide door open and turned the water on high. Carefully gripping the safety bar he eased himself inside and closed the slider behind him. Steam rapidly began to fill the room. He ducked his head under the spray; even the showerheads were too low in most motels for him to just stand underneath them. He sighed a little as he reached his arms forward to brace his hands against the shower wall and bow his head lower letting the blessedly warm water washed over his hair, down his back between his shoulder blades and over his spine. The warmth it carried covered his butt and split into twin streams as it ran down his legs. He sighed again and turned around tilting his head back to let the water cover his face then pulled his head up, scrubbed his hands over his features to squeegee the water off and leaned back in under the spray again arching into it a little as it hit his chest and warmed the pumped up muscles beneath the skin. The medicinal spread of heat soothed as it bounced playful rivulets along the taunt muscles of his abdomen making rapids of warmth dash over the front of his groin and down his inner thighs before it slued its way along his legs and down into the drain.

But the moment the water soothed the tension away his legs betrayed him. He felt them buckle and shot his arms out to grab wall and railing and as he carefully guided his slide to the floor of the tub in a controlled collapse. The spray continued to hit him full on his chest and torso, he tried to get up but it was too much work, the pull of gravity had him in a mighty grip, it just felt so good to let the showers warm spray ease all the chill out of his bones. Sitting here would be just fine Sam thought muddily and closed his eyes to bask in the warmth. He was vaguely aware of Dean outside in their room moving furniture around. Maybe he's barricading us in, the thought of I should try to get up and help him, made a quick appearance in his fuzzy brain but just as quickly disappeared overruled by the lull of warmth and wet sounds of splashing spray on soft flesh, I'll just rest here a minute and then go help him...just a minute more...just a minute more was becoming his inner mantra then Sam's surroundings faded into darkness as his body and mind pulled in on itself and tried to heal.

He woke with a start at the sound of pounding on the door and someone calling his name.

"Sammy! Sammy! Get the hell outta there your steamin' up the whole room-shower hog. You alright? Sammy? SAMMY!!!

It's Dean. DEAN? Franticly he thinks how long was I in here? How did I get on the floor? And he puts all his effort into trying to stand. His big hands splay out on moisture slicked walls of the shower to gain purchase as his long legs fold up and push under him till he finds altitude without falling back down. He turns the shower off. "I'M ALRGHT! He yells back, "Its ok-quit yelling. Be out in a minute." He sounds like he's panting because the steam is so thick it makes it hard to breathe. His hands find the towel, which is too small (it figures) and which is damp to the point of almost useless to wipe him dry as he towels off hurriedly.

His clothes on the counter are in a similar state of cloying wetness as he struggles to pull up his boxers that stick and cling to his legs all the way up. Choosing to nix the fight he'd have with the T-shirt he exits the bathroom in a cloud of steam that coils around him like the smoke gun entrance of a rock star on stage.

"Great job warming yourself up Giaganto I'll bet nobody on this side of the motel has any hot water left" Dean joked then scowled as the steam behind Sam dissipated into their room revealing the big read wheel on his brothers chest where the hot water had beat unmercifully down on him. Dean moved quickly over to Sam instinctively reaching out to inspect the angry redness. "What the hell happened here?" He demanded looking up into Sam's eyes.

"Wha..." Sam looked down at his chest and winced as he touched the pink flesh. "I guess I kinda fell asleep...sorry."

Dean shoulders dropped and concern replaced worry in his eyes. "You fall?"

"What no...well... I slid... sorta." Sam answered sheepishly. "But I'm fine, I'm warm now."

Dean eyed the reddened flesh, "Yeah, lobster warm."

Sam found the strength to roll his eyes.

Dean shook his head, "Look, git in bed before your ass slides down to the floor and I have to try to pick it up." He moved to steer Sam the few feet over to the mattress's edge, but Sam groggily wind milled his brothers hands away and took the few wobbly steps over to the bed himself. As soon as his head hit the pillow he felt his eyes begin to close. The last thing he saw was his brother laying the salt line down around their beds and feeing safe at last Sam slept.

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The next morning Dean took his own shower and hunger became an issue. He wasn't going to make a run for food and leave Sam alone. Not after last night, maybe not ever again so as he stepped out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel he yelled to Sam to get up.

Sam mumbled his dissent into the pillow.

Dean grabbed his boxers and slipped them on taking his "T" from the back of the chair where he kept his cloths dry from the showers steam. He dressed rapidly as his sense of urgency for them to get moving increased.

Sam just rolled over.

"I mean it Sammy up and move now!" Dean's demand fell on deaf ears.

"Get your ass in gear, we'll eat on the way outta town."

More mumbles but no action just fueled Dean's fire. "SAM! I AM NOT KIDDING."

Sam did not take orders well. "NO." was the reply from the mound of blankets on the bed.

And that is when the damn burst for Dean.

He'd seen what his brother could do when left to his own devices and he didn't like the choices he made not one damn bit. He blamed himself. If he'd been there for Sam when he'd gotten back...If he'd been one hundred percent and not the broken dependant man that crawled out of the ground in Pontiac...he could have stopped Sam....might have turned him around from the path that led to this....IF ....IF... Dean hated that word, he hated that he'd become one of those people that had thoughts like 'would'of, could'of or should'of. NO, from now on he was hands on and Sam was not going to be allowed to veer into the path of danger again. His rage in that moment was based on fear, fear that he might fail Sam again as he ranted to the man in the bed, " This whole year I let you go your own way, let you make choices that I didn't like because I thought you should be treated like an adult, have your own space and all that bullshit. But no more Sammy, If I say somethin's Blue you better n hell see it as Blue and if I say it's Red that's what it is no question...."

As Dean raged on Sam pushed back the covers anger evident on his face.

"And if I tell you that you're listening to a lying, skank of a whore demon..."

That's when something inside Sam snaps; he is at once filled with both shame and rage and he launches himself off the bed at his brother but his head hits something hard and he bounces straight back down his ass hitting the bed hard.

Fuck, he thinks, I can't believe that Dean head butted me, as he rubs a hand across his forehead and jumps back up to get into his brothers face again.

But Dean's stance is all wrong; he's not braced and ready for bear. The look on his brother's face is not the wall of 'tear your ass a new one' anger Sam had seen before that stopped many a man in their tracks.

It was a look he'd never seen on his brother's face, not one he's ever seen when looking at him before.

It was fear. And sorrow.... and pity.

Sam stood there his face contorted in rage, hands held in tight fists at his side and watched as Dean ever so slowly stepped back and pushed the door to the bathroom open to reveal more of the wall size mirror.

Then Dean said in a soft broken voice, "Sammy" And nodded to the mirror for Sam to look.

What he saw froze him. His whole body stood huge and tense, the anger still coming off it in waves, but when he looked at his eyes they weren't his own anymore. They were solid cold black pits that stared back at him.

"Noooooooooo." He covered his eyes and moaned into his hands as his legs buckled and he felt his ass hit the bed once more. Everything that happened last night came flooding back and grief over what he'd done made him wither inside "Noooooooooo."

He heard the soft snick as the bathroom door eased closed. Dean was blocking the offensive image of his change from him.

When he felt Dean softly touch his shoulder he pulled back and almost snarled at Dean "Don't touch me!"

"Sam"

"Don't"...Sam kept one hand over his eyes to block Dean's view as he frantically glanced around the room. He saw the salt line Dean had spread around their beds. It's not enough he thought then a design on the floor caught his eyes. And he peered over the end of his bed to see a devils trap partially covered up by the comforter on the floor.

A devils trap. Dean had made a devils trap, that was the noise Sam heard.

When he slowly stood back up he bit the accusing words out at his brother. "You knew..."

Dean had been hanging his head but snapped it up fast as he answered, "I didn't. I did it to protect us, we needed to be safe last night."

"To protect YOU," Sam said with the last force he had, then softly, "from me".

"NO! No Sammy, no. And Dean strode purposefully over to the end of his own bed and kicked it aside revealing the rest of the devils trap that extended to encircle both beds.

"Wha..... Sam looked down at him with tears rapidly filling his eyes.

"If I wanted to keep you away from me I woulda built a Sasquatch trap" Said Dean up to his face.

Sam blinked back the tears that were rapidly forming in his eyes, "But...you... can't..." Sam choked out completing the line of this old tease of theirs that he'd heard from his brother a million times.

"That's right" Dean's voice softened, as they said in unison "Coz there's not enough wood in all the damn redwoods to keep you contained."

Sam gulped and ran his hands over his face to wipe the tears and Dean stepped over the Salt line and into the devils trap to put his hands on Sam's shoulder and the other on his arm and pressured him gently down to sit. And once again Sam's ass found itself resting on his bed again.

Dean sat opposite him and watched his bother cover his face in his hands and heard him speak to the floor, "What are we gonna do?" And Dean watched as Sam's shoulders tensed and fear crept into his voice as it broke, "What did I DO?"

To be continued

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