A fanfic in honor of the November 19th anniversary of Carry On
Prologue
“Dean.”
His brother turned around, a look on his face that Sam could
not remember ever seeing; so free of worry and stress was it. His eyes crinkled
in the corners as he looked at Sam, clearly delighted
to see him.
Sam could barely move. He could hardly believe he was
finally here. That he was seeing his
brother again, in the flesh.
Well…maybe not in the flesh.
Dean reached for him, pulling him in and Sam just melted into his brother. Dean had hugged
him many times and he’d felt the safety, the protection, yes, even the love –
had known it was there. But this was different. This was like sinking into it,
being enveloped and submerged in the essence of Dean’s love. Dean’s love for
Sam.
Sam took a deep breath and just…breathed it in.
Finally. I’m home.
Chapter One
Sam closed the book he’d been reading and dropped it on the
sand by his feet, contemplating the prospect of moving. His stomach rumbled and
he looked down at it and then up at the cabin. The outside scenery looked a lot
like Rufus’ cabin. The inside though was different. It had floor to ceiling
windows and an open verandah area that opened out from the living room whose
other three walls were floor to ceiling bookshelves. He could see Dean in the
open plan kitchen no doubt making lunch.
He smiled, thinking that his brother was even better at
reading his mind here in heaven than he’d been on earth. He looked out at the
gently undulating sea and sighed with content. He didn’t know how long they’d
stay here; once they left the bridge, they’d just driven, both savoring just
being with each other. They didn’t talk much. Just drove and took turns staring
at each other as if one might disappear if the other wasn’t vigilant.
Then out of nowhere, they’d come upon the ocean; the one
they’d always been promising each other they’d go to.
Bare feet in the sand
Sammy. Bare feet in the sand.
Sam laughed quietly to himself, recalling that Dean tended
to put more than his bare feet on the sand. Skinny dipping was his new favorite
thing it seemed and since the sand effortlessly rolled off those hard to reach
places, there was apparently no reason why Dean shouldn’t indulge. He’d take a
lap in the infinity pool that had materialized on their second day at this
place and then run down to the beach to frolic in the water while Sam shook his
head indulgently and made him toast and scrambled eggs for breakfast.
He’d cooked for DJ for most of his son’s life, yet cooking
breakfast for Dean was something of a different pleasure. He hadn’t realized
how much he’d missed it until he had it again. Dean would come in, just as the
toast popped, a grin on his face, dripping water all over the hardwood floors.
He’d sit his bare ass down on the kitchen stool and chew his
toast with his mouth open while Sam poured him coffee wearing bitch face number
ten. Dean would give a pleased grin when he saw Sam’s face but there was not
much talking before they’d gotten some coffee in them.
“Lunch, Sam.”
He looked up to see his brother approaching with a tray. He
had on a pair of sweats but was shirtless and bare foot. A gun holster was
still strapped to his thigh and for some reason, it wasn’t incongruous at all.
Dean set a tray of burgers and fries in front of Sam’s daybed, with side of
salad in the same motion as he withdrew his gun and turned.
He hit the giant dragon bird that had been swooping down
straight in the heart and the thing imploded, disappearing into a black hole
which closed up behind it. Dean twirled his weapon and holstered it before
grinning at Sam.
“That was a big one.”
“Yeah, and did you see the fire it was trying to breath?”
Dean shook his head, still grinning.
“You let it get close.”
Dean shrugged. “I had it. Saw it in my peripheral vision.”
Sam leaned forward, scooping up a French fry and dipping it
in Dean’s home made sauce before putting it on his tongue and savoring the
taste.
Like deep fried crack.
The thought didn’t come with a pang. Ruby was too many years
behind him. He wasn’t that guy anymore. Just to make sure, he looked up at a
still grinning Dean and smiled. “Where’s your
plate?”
Dean sat down at the foot of Sam’s day bed and shrugged. “I
wasn’t hungry. Had a heavy breakfast.” He patted his stomach and smiled at Sam.
This morning Sam had decided to make a short stack of
pancakes and a plate of bacon for Dean. He’d been too distracted, watching him
eat to eat much himself. He guessed that’s why he was hungry and Dean was full.
His brother reached down and picked up the book that Sam’d
thrown down. “What’s this?”
“The Knights of the Round Table…you remember you used to
read it to me?”
Dean nodded, looking uncharacteristically pensive. The Dean
in heaven tended to grin a lot more than he had on earth. “I remember you
telling me about it, when you were going through the trials.” He bit his lip,
“Sammy, I mean you know-”
“I know. I know Dean. I promise.” He smiled at his brother,
reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I know.” He whispered.
Dean looked down at the book, reading the cover. “Roger
Lancelyn Green. Hmm, hey maybe you should check if he’s here.”
Sam cocked an eyebrow. “Here?”
“Yeah, like in heaven. Y’all can geek out together on book
writing or whatever. Knights.”
Sam straightened. “Hey, that’s actually a great idea.”
“Well don’t sound so surprised. I have them occasionally.”
“But…I don’t wanna bother him.”
Dean dropped the book in his lap. “Hey, if anyone can write
a polite note asking to geek out over something, it’s you.”
Sam threw the book at him. “You’re an idiot.”
Dean grinned. “You love it.”
Chapter three
Dean was out on a boat, in colorful shorts, slippers and a
vest, fishing. Sam watched him from the verandah, smiling indulgently as he’d
found himself doing a lot lately. He reached out and his laptop was in his
hands. Putting it on the table in front of him, he googled Roger Lancelyn
Green.
Thank you, Jack.
For a moment he felt a pang, missing his first son who he
hadn’t seen since he’d disappeared after Chuck was vanquished. He’d felt him
though, now and then, through the years, when getting through the night was
particularly rough; when he’d wanted to just give up and give in, eat a bullet.
Even with his second son to love and raise, living had sometimes been such a chore.
He bent forward, reading about the author. According to
heavenly google, he was currently traveling through his stories, living them in
real time and talking with his characters.
“That sounds like a good time if they don’t decide to run
you through with a sword.” Sam murmured to himself.
“Who run you through with sword?”
He jumped, looking up to see Dean leaning over him. “Shit
man, where’d you come from?”
Dean smirked, pointing at the sea. He held up his hand where
he had two large fish dangling. “Caught us some supper and I think I saw the
lochness monster.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, it was kind of circling the boat but then it just
disappeared.”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “We going hunting?”
Dean bit his bottom lip, thinking. “Nah. I mean he wasn’t
hurting anyone.”
“Yet.”
Dean nodded. “Yet.”
“Okay cool.”
“So what are you doing that’s gonna run you through with
swords.”
The ‘over my dead body’
was implied in the set of his shoulders.
“Um, well I looked up Roger Green.” Sam turned the laptop so
that Dean could see.
“Huh…”
“Yeah.”
Dean looked at him, “So I guess you wanna go off and join
him.”
“No…I mean…” Sam shrugged.
Dean smiled. “You can go if you want.”
“I thought we were just gonna talk to him.”
“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, “But I won’t stop you if…”
Sam grinned. “Yeah, not going.”
“But you can if you want.”
“I know.”
Somehow they were in a staring contest and Sam wasn’t gonna
blink first. His eyes began to water but still, he refused to blink until Dean
did.
They both blinked at the same time.
“Why even do our eyes get watery. Aren’t we like, spirits?”
Dean asked.
Sam quirked an eyebrow at the non sequitur. “Yeah well…why
do we get hungry? Why do we sleep? I guess it really is mind over matter.”
Dean laughed. “And now you’re about to go down that rabbit
hole ain’t ya?”
Sam shrugged one-shouldered, “Eh, maybe later. I’m actually
gonna see if I can get in touch with Roger Green. I’m actually curious about
why he would chose to have his heaven populated by his characters.”
“Dude. King George and the knights of the round table. Who
wouldn’t want to hang out with those guys?”
Sam smirked at him. “Sooo…you wanna go check it out?”
Dean gave him a look. “Rude. You can’t just go barging into
people’s heavens Sam.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s why I’m sending an email
first.”
“Yeah? And what’s he gonna do? Refuse?”
“Yeah I mean…if he wants to.”
“Or we could you know, just like…spy on him.” Dean waggled
his eyebrows.
“Dude no.”
“Dude yes!”
“How even would we do that?”
“Isn’t that the fun part for you college boy? Figure it out.
I’m gonna go gut these fishes.”
Chapter Four
Sam finally gave in and called Ash. If they were gonna set
up some sort of spyware, there was probably no one he knew who could help.
I wonder if there are
many spies in heaven. After all, they have to do some questionable shit.
Sam shook his head. He and Dean had also done a lot of
questionable shit and here they were. While he waited for Ash to get back to him
he decided to google spies. His jaw dropped open when his eyes happened upon
one name.
“Dean!” he shouted.
He could hear the clatter of running footsteps and then Dean
was skidding into the living room, gun in hand. “What’s happening?”
Sam gestured to him, “Come and see this!”
Dean glared at him. “You were screaming at me to come see
something on your laptop? Really?”
Sam waved that away. “Come here!”
Dean sighed in a very put upon way and shuffled over to bend
down and peer at the screen. “Delphine Seydoux?”
“Yeah! Remember her? From that time with the boat and the
Nazis?”
“Yeah, when Lucifer almost killed you in Cas’ body. I
remember.”
Sam gestured to the screen excitedly.
“So…what? Delphine is around?”
“Yeah.”
“And you were looking for her because…?”
“I was googling spies,” Sam murmured, blushing a little.
Dean gave him a sidelong glance before shaking his head.
“I’m not even gonna ask. But just so you’re prepared, probably none of your
serial killers made it up here.”
Sam hit him on the arm. “I know that, Jerk.”
“But you were still thinking about googling weren’t you?”
Sam glared at him. “Anyway, I’m not making much headway with
the whole spy on Roger thing. So I emailed him, just to see if he would
answer.”
“Did he?”
“Not yet.”
“Hence why you’re googling spies and serial killers?”
“I didn’t google serial killers!”
“Mmm hmm.” Dean straightened up, holstering his weapon and
walking away. “I’m gonna go outside. Saw something animal like in the garden.”
“Is it a hunt?”
“I don’t know yet.” Dean opened the screen and went outside.
Sam watched him a bit, anxious even though Dean couldn’t really be hurt on one
of his dream hunts. Yesterday they’d spent the afternoon letting zombies chase
them all over the beach before Dean cut off their heads. It was like a very slow
game of tag; not that they’d played tag much when they were kids. Sam thought
he much preferred the zombie version. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d
laughed so much.
“Sam!”
It was his turn to scramble out of his chair and go running.
He skidded to a stop when he saw Dean, a golden retriever in his arms and the
biggest grin on his face. “Look who showed up.”
Miracle looked up, his mouth open, teeth on display as if he
was grinning at Sam. “Hey there.” Sam felt a pang as he met Miracle’s eyes, the
early days of grief coming back to him in vivid detail. The despair. The
debilitating black hole of sadness he’d been living in. He didn’t think he’d
have survived those months without miracle to take care of.
“Hey buddy. How are you?” he reached out and scratched the
dog under his chin. “Long time no see.”
Miracle licked his hand as if he understood exactly what Sam
was feeling.
His eyes shifted and he met Dean’s, smile faltering slightly
at the understanding he found there. His brother reached out and pulled him in,
enveloping him in that essence of his love and allowing Sam to just sink into it as they squashed the dog
between them.
Miracle barked in annoyance and they both burst out
laughing.
Chapter Five
“I’m an idiot.”
“Yeah you are.”
Sam threw a sock at Dean. Dean dodged it, grinning widely.
“Why have you finally realized you’re an idiot?”
“I’ve been acting like we’re back on earth. Like I have to physically hack into this guy’s feed.”
“And you really don’t?”
“No, I don’t. All this crap around us, it manifests because
we want it to.”
Dean looked around, nodding. “True. True.”
“Which, side-note, I have to say that I am blown away by
your imagination when it comes to finding new creatures and ways to kill them.
Like…dude.” Sam shook his head.
Dean grinned. “Thanks. I think I’d have made an excellent
writer.”
“Ha! Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“You’re just jealous my imagination is better than yours.”
“Sure Dean.” Sam smirked. “Anyway, so I tried something. You
wanna see or not?”
Dean came around to stare down at Sam’s laptop. “Sure.”
“So what I did was, I envisioned an app; kind of like Find
My Friend that iPhone used to have?”
“Uh huh?”
“Yeah so then I downloaded it and…typed in Roger Lancelyn
Green.”
“And, lemme guess; you found him?”
“Yes! I did. So then, I asked to friend him so that we could
talk and he responded.”
“What?”
“Yeah.”
Sam hit a few more buttons and the screen came to life. A bespectacled
bald gentleman came onscreen, his face serious, sitting on a bench in front of
a wall of books. He smiled when he saw Sam. “Hello there again.” He called.
“Hey Mr. Green. This is my brother, Dean.”
“I said you can call me Roger.”
“Yeah.” Sam squirmed a bit in his seat, like he did when he
was particularly excited. “Roger. This is Dean.”
Dean waved. “Hello.”
Roger waved again.
Sam was blushing as Dean watched him with a cocked eyebrow. “My
brother used to read me your stories and uh…I just uh…I wanted to say thanks, y’know?”
Roger smiled. “You’re very welcome. Would you like me to read to you? Although I have to
warn you, my characters might decide to drop by as I read their parts.”
Sam kind of skipped in his chair. “Yes please, sir.”
Dean snorted, shaking his head and moved away. He didn’t go
very far, just enough to be out of the frame. He took a seat on a stool that
appeared, at an angle that helped him to see the screen while not being seen.
He looked from Sam to the screen as Roger read the story, hearing the clash of
iron on iron as everyone from King Arthur to Lancelot showed up. The sounds of
lovemaking as Guinevere and Lancelot made love.
“Ask him how come he doesn’t mind that they’re doing it
right in front of him.” he hissed at Sam.
Sam turned to give him a side eye. “Ask him yourself. Why are
you hiding over there?”
“I’m not hiding.”
Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the screen.
“Yo! Sam! Ask him!” Dean hissed.
Sam sent him the middle finger and leaned forward, blocking
his view.
Dean pushed his stool closer, pushing at Sam to move. The knights
were sitting around the round table and Sam barely noticed as Dean moved him. They
watched together as the story came to an end and Roger looked up. “That’s the
end of that tale. Maybe I can tell you another one, some other time.”
“Yes please.” Sam said at once. His voice was unusually
high. Dean turned to look at him and saw that Sam was no longer an adult but a
four year old boy.
“Sam!” he croaked with fear and realized his voice was also
quite high. He looked down at his eight year old self in horror. Sam turned to
smile at him.
“Dean!” he leaned forward and put his head on Dean’s chest.
Dean automatically wrapped his small arms around Sam. “Read me another story.”
Dean looked helplessly at the screen where Roger was still smiling
softly at them. “Shall I tell you about how King George fought and vanquished
the dragon?”
“Yes please,” Four Year Old Sam said, folding himself even
more snuggly against Dean and sucking his thumb.
Roger began to read.
Leaning his cheek against Sam’s soft hair, Dean settled back
in the sofa that had appeared beneath them, and listened to the story.
Epilogue
Dean woke up, still wrapped around Sam, but fully grown
again. The sofa beneath them seemed to have stretched enough to accommodate their
six foot plus frames. Sam stretched, wiggling and mumbling as he struggled
awake.
Dean watched fondly as he finally opened his eyes, rubbing
them as if he was still four.
“So…that was weird, huh?”
Sam blinked at him and then smiled. “Roger Green read us a
bedtime story.”
“Yeah. I guess he did.”
Sam sobered. “Was that the first time anyone ever read to
you?”
Dean looked away. “Course not. Mom used to read to me all
the time.”
Sam just stared at him.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re feeling sorry for me.”
Sam didn’t bother to deny it. Just blinked once and looked
away. He stretched, his long frame curiously clad in the same pajamas as his
four year old self. He got to his feet. “I’m gonna go cook you breakfast. What do
you want? Pancakes?”
“Pig in a poke?”
Sam glared at him.
“Too soon?”
“Always.”
“Alright, I’ll have toast, bacon and Lucky Charms.”
Sam smiled. “Coming right up.”
He walked away and then stopped, came back and kissed Dean
on the cheek, before pulling back and looking him in the eye. “I love you,
Dean.”
Dean watched him walk away. Once Sam disappeared around the
wall to the kitchen he looked back down and smiled. “Love you too, Sam.”
