My Brother's Reaper

Brotherly Lies

- Most of the dialogue is word for word lines from the episode. I do not own anything -

The engine of the black Chevy Impala roared throughout the darkness of the night, the open road was all Dean saw as he approached his destination. Pulling up to a dirty crossroads, Dean buried a small box containing the items to summon a crossroads demon and waited. After shouting frantically, hoping to get the demon's attention, she finally appeared before him.

"Dean. It is so, so good to see you. I mean it. Look at you. Gone and got your family killed. All alone in the world. It's too sweet. Excuse me, you're gonna have to give me a moment. Sometimes you gotta stop and smell the roses," The demon spoke with a mocking tone in her voice as she circled Dean.

"I should send you straight back to hell," Dean replied with a threatening glare.

"Oh, you should. But you won't. And I know why."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Following in Daddy's footsteps. You wanna make a deal. Little Sammy back from the dead, and-let me guess- you're offering up your own soul?"

"There are a hundred other demons who'd love to get their hands on it. And it's all yours. All you got to do is bring Sam back. And give me ten years- ten years, and then you come for me."

"You must be joking"

"That's the same deal you give everybody else"

"You're not everybody else. Why would I want to give you anything? Keep your gutter soul. It's too tarnished, anyway"

"Nine years," Dean started to negotiate with the crossroads demon, dropping down his time frame.

"No."

"Eight."

Laughing, the demon continued to make Dean lower the years, "You keep going, I'll keep saying no."

"Okay, five years. Five years, and my bill comes due. That's my last offer- five years or no deal."

"Then no deal," She said while pretending to lean in to seal the deal.

"Fine," Dean turned around and began to walk away from the scene.

"Fine. Make sure you bury Sam before he starts stinking up the joint."

Dean couldn't believe what she had said. He spun around to face her and took a few steps in her direction, "Wait."

"It's a fire sale, and everything must go."

"What do I have to do?"

"First of all, quit groveling. Needy guys are such a turnoff. Look... Look, I shouldn't be doing this. I could get in a lot of trouble. But what can I say? I got a blind spot for you, Dean. You're like a... puppy. You're just too fun to play with." Sighing, she finally caved in. "I'll do it."

"You'll bring him back?"

"I will. And because I'm such a saint, I'll give you one year, and one year only. But here's the thing. If you try and welch or weasel your way out, then the deal is off. Sam drops dead. He's back to rotten meat in no time. So... It's a better deal than your dad ever got. What do you say?"

Dean knew that this was the only way to get Sam up and running to normal capacity again. He leaned in, crossing over the personal space boundary lines, and sealed the deal with one simple kiss.

Sam sat up slowly on the plain mattress he was laying on. He knew he was going to have to pretend he doesn't know what's going on when Dean comes back. Hopefully he's convincing enough. Sam started to gently poke at the skin of his forearm, just to make sure it's all real. His fingers never went through his skin or failed to feel anything, so he is truly alive, to some extent. He stood up, and approached a nearby mirror, turning his body to examine the wound. He winced in pain as he touched the prominent scar etched on his lower back.