Don't Fear the Reaper

Panic Room

You couldn't stand it anymore. Your head in your hands, you sat there, listening to the screams and moans coming out of the panic room in Bobby's basement. The wooden stairs dug into your back, but you didn't care. All your brain could focus on was the pain and torment coming from the other side of the iron door. You wanted to cross it, to take Sam in your arms, to heal him, but you weren't sure you could.

A hand falling heavy on your shoulder surprised you, and you tilted your head up, looking up into a pair of green eyes, full of the same concern and worry you were feeling. "Y/N, come on, let's go for a walk." Dean told you, holding his hand out to you.

You could only stare at it, not sure you wanted to take it. If you took it, you were agreeing to a talk with Dean. A talk that neither of you had brought up since Sam had iced those Demons, and then Famine less than a week ago. Both of you had been too busy, Dean with cutting the ring off of Famine's finger, while you had gone over to an overpowered Sam, trying to talk him down from his high. His power was deep enough, strong enough, that it swirled around you, and it could have probably killed you in seconds. But he had held it back, looking you in the eyes, his normally multi-faceted hazel eyes almost black with the power he held.

Once Dean had the ring and Cas, the four of you quickly gathered your items, and left the town, heading straight for Bobby's. And here you were, days later, waiting for Sam to come off of his blood addiction. 

"It won't bite." Dean teased, breaking you out of your thoughts. Just then, Sam let out a torturous scream, and you took Dean's hand, needing to be anywhere but there. You felt horrible, as if you were letting him down, but his pain was eating you alive.

Dean pulled you to your feet, pulling you up the stairs, straight out the door, and over to the Impala. Letting go of your hand, he went to the backseat of the Impala, while you stood there, nervous and unsure. You felt a little guilty, feeling relief at the quietness the outside provided you. Dean came back around, handing you a beer. You looked at it, before taking a sip. It tasted better this time than the last, and you took another sip. 

"Yeah, it gets better once you get used to it." Dean said, noticing you were actually drinking it. The two of you stayed quiet, enjoying the relief, but you were still tense, ready for Dean to bring up his questions he had before. "I know what you're thinking. But what we're doing, it's the best for Sam. It worked before, and it will work again. It's just horrible waiting, and you feel as if you're letting him down." 

You nodded, relieved that he had gone that route. You looked at Dean, really looked at him for the first time since you had gotten back to Bobby's. He had changed his clothes, but his black t-shirt and jeans were wrinkled, giving away the fact he had slept in them. He had circles under his eyes, and he hadn't shaved since you had arrived back at Bobby's. You could tell he was hurting, maybe not as much as his brother, but it was still hard on him. Surprising both him, and yourself, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him, hugging him. You could count the amount of hugs you had participated in on your hands, and they still felt awkward and uneasy.

You could tell Dean felt the same way at first, but then he relaxed, pulling you to him, resting his chin on your head. "I know you like him, and it's hard for you to see him like this. But he will come around, he always does." Dean comforted you.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as he pushed you back a little. "Now that our break is over, why don't we go see how our guy is doing." Dean suggested, and you nodded, wondering why he hadn't brought anything else up.

He led the way back into the house, and you made your way straight down the stairs, wanting to check on Sam. Dean followed behind you, staying a step behind as you went to the iron door. It was quiet, and you were worried for Sam. Sliding open the peephole, you saw Sam laying down on the cot, unconscious. 

"Dean, he's out!" You exclaimed, wondering if that was a good or a bad thing. Dean came racing forward, and you moved to the side, so the both of you could look inside.

"Damn it, I can't tell if he's breathing." Dean muttered, before stepping back and unlocking the door. You waited, chewing on your lip, until Dean opened the door, and you rushed inside. The Iron weakened you, just the tiniest bit, but otherwise you felt nothing else from being inside. Dropping to your knees, you settled next to Sam's head, pressing your head to his chest.

"Dean, he's not breathing!" You said, your eyes wide with fright. He pressed his fingers to his neck, and you waited, forgetting to breathe.

"He's got a pulse, but it's weak. Damn it Sammy, this worked before." Dean said, as he ran his hand along his mouth in frustration. "I have no idea what to do." Dean told you, looking completely lost.

You thought hard. It wasn't your area of expertise, but there was a chance that you could help Sam, maybe even fix him. But if you did that, you were outing yourself right in front of Dean. Maybe even signing your death warrant.

You looked up at Dean, the foreign feeling of tears pricking your eyes. He looked back at you, his eyes mirroring yours and you knew. There was no way you would let Sam die, even if there was chance you could resurrect him later. 

"Dean, I need you to listen to me. I know you've noticed I'm not like normal people. And I can explain later. But right now, there is a chance that I can save Sam. Please, just let me work. And then you can do whatever you think you need to do. I will answer whatever questions you have. Agreed?" You sat there, breathing heavily, knowing this was it. You were being completely honest, putting yourself out there like you hadn't done since the middle ages. 

He stared at you, the gears in his brain whirling as he thought. Giving you a tight nod, he held onto his brothers hand. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on each side of Sam's head, letting yourself feel what he felt. The rush of emotions, the amount of pain he was in had you reeling back, almost letting go. But you held on, tightening your grasp, wading through all the pain and hallucinations that were in the front of Sam's mind. Slowly you made your way past them, to where Sam was hiding in the back.

"Sam?" You called out. It was always weird to you, being in someone else's mind. As a Reaper it was a normal procedure, but you always felt like you were intruding. Sam's mind was a similar version of Bobby's house, which didn't surprise you. From what you understood, it was one of the constants in his life, and it was usually places like that that resonated in your mind. 

He was laying on the window seat, his long legs hanging off the seat, his body bent at a weird angle. "Sam!" You exclaimed, rushing over to him. Hearing your voice, he stirred, before his beautiful eyes opened up and locked onto yours.

"Y/N? Where are we?" He muttered, his voice hoarse. His face was pale, his hair dull, his eyes glassy.

Crouching down next to him, you placed your hand on his cheek. Your hand was small in comparison to his size, and if you had time you would have smiled. "We are in your mind. You're not doing well, you're leaving us, and Dean and I are worried." You explained.

"Y/N, but if you did this, Dean must know." He said, sitting farther up, your hand sliding away.

You gave him a sad smile. "Not yet. I just told him to wait, then we could hash things out. The important thing is getting you back to us. Then whatever he decides, I will deal with it." You said.

Sam nodded, before standing up and pulling you to your feet. He pulled you to him, your second hug in one day, a new record for you. This hug was different than the one you shared with Dean. You felt a current running between you and Sam, and you felt your body melt into his. You could have stayed there all day, if possible. "Sam, we need to get you back." You told him.

He didn't move, except for tightening his arms around you. "And how do we do that?"

"I'm going to give you some of my spark. Hopefully it will cure the addiction, and heal you. But I've never tried this before." You admitted, and he took his hand, tilting your chin back.

"It will work. Because I want to get back out there, to you." He said, before lightly pressing his lips to yours.