Lightbearer, 4/5

[mangacat201]

Author: Mangacat(201)
Pairing/Characters: Sam, Dean, Lucifer
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2546

Disclaimer: Of course they belong to the Krip of all people… sheesh. And yeah, that money trail passes me by so thoroughly…  

Warnings: SPOILER for season FOUR, post 4.22 Lucifer Rising.

 A/N: sorry guys, had to break up the last part again. But I will post it later today.

part one  -  part two  -  part three


 

When he woke up again, it was from the soothing rumble ceasing and the car pulling to a stop in front of a ramshackle little building. The light was slowly fading as the sun sunk behind the horizon and Dean had slid out of the passenger’s seat before he was properly awake so there was only the bang of the door serving to make him jump. He looked over at Sam, who wore a contemplative expression, but a lot of lines had faded from his face with the tension less pronounced in his countenance. Sam threw a cursory glance at him and smiled slightly at seeing him awake, before he opened the driver’s door and got out of the car. He scrambled after the tall man and stretched his arms out to be picked up. Sam lifted an eyebrow, but complied and hefted him out on his hip, before fetching some duffle bags from the trunk. He bunched his hand into the material of Sam’s shirt and noticed Dean coming out of a door to the far right. He followed him with his eyes down the row of doors until the other man stopped in front of one and swiped in a key card to open it. He felt Sam jostle him slightly when he adjusted his grip around his body before they followed Dean into the room. When he looked around the room, there was nothing special about it, but it looked clean and if the colours were a bit muted from age and wear, at least there was nothing broken or awfully mismatched about the interior. Two beds and a couch as well as a rackety table and two chairs and another door on the far side. A slight thud startled him and he turned to find that Sam had let the bags slide to the floor, and both of the brothers were wearing slightly stunned and crinkled expressions as if they’d realized something. He turned back to the room and then back to the men again that uttered a faint ‘uhm’ when he finally realized that… two beds and three of them. His eyes widened, but Dean sprang into action before anyone could say something and walked over to the couch muttering under his breath. The man fumbled around a bit until a latch gave and the bottom sprang out of the couch, revealing a narrow mattress. He observed Dean scouring the room until he found some additional bedding in the closet beside the bathroom door.

“I think that’ll do for tonight, alright?”

Dean looked at him as if for permission when he really didn’t know what to say. He looked at Sam, who shrugged.

“Sorry, but we’re not exactly used to travelling posh. Hopefully we’ll be there by tomorrow evening.” Wherever there actually was.

He nodded and felt a big yawn worming its way up from his belly, despite having slept the whole afternoon, but his mind still shied away from the images that were etched into his mind too clearly.  

“I’ll get something to eat.”

With the words, Dean was out of the door.

“We should probably get you washed up and inside your pj’s so you can go to bed after dinner.”

He nodded again, but caught the last golden orange beams floating through the window over the couch and turned back to Sam.

“Can I watch the sun set first?”

The smile on the other man’s face turned soft and he answered:

“Of course you can.”

He clambered up on the couch immediately and peeked through the blinds with rapt attention while Sam busied himself around the room with whatever it was that he had to do. When the last rays of the day vanished a single tear trickled down his cheek unattended. He blinked rapidly when he felt a thumb brush over his skin and glanced up at Sam, who in turn looked out of the window into the falling night before he poured a line of fine white crystals all along the ledge of the window.

“Just a precaution, really… do you want to change now?”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

By the time he’d scrubbed and brushed and changed into his night clothes – without Sam’s assistance this time – the door opened and admitted Dean, who was accompanied by the most delicious fumes. He got to munch on pizza and decided that it was almost as good as pie, but only almost. When he told the brothers about his conclusion, Dean laughed out loud and pointed a Sam with a telling wriggle of his eyebrows. After they had put the trash away, he sat down on the bedding in front of the couch and watched the two men going about their own routine for the night. He could see that their movements around each other were ingrained so deep that even the discordant tone between them wasn’t able to break up the familiar pattern. On the other hand, he felt as if the disharmony between them had considerably lessened. Something must have given way during the time he was out and the thought let calmness wash through him like a soothing balm. He knew that as long the two men stood together like they were supposed to, nothing would happen to him and with the certainty in his mind he snuggled down into the blankets and closed his eyes.

 

The light had been out for quite a while and the breathing of the other two inhabitants in the room had long since evened out to a slow and steady rhythm. Sleep however eluded him. Not because he wasn’t exhausted and his body yearned for more rest then a fit of panicked unconsciousness, but every time he closed his eyes the darkness clawed at him and images of unprecedented terror crept over his vision. He shied away from the pictures and tried to shut them out, but the consciousness of their origin made him feel all kinds of bodily reactions he hadn’t known up to this day and no matter how tightly he wrapped the cocoon of blanketing warmth around him, the cold and dread wouldn’t dissipate. Finally he gave into the yearning for contact and protection and untangled the sheets around his body. He peeked out from under the blanket to the slightly moving mounts on the two beds and debated for a moment until he slipped out and padded over to one of the beds. He wasn’t sure what to do now, so he just stood there and stared at Sam’s face that was slack with deep sleep. He observed the angular features, the slow dip of cheek bones, the tilted tip of the nose, and reached up to touch his own, feel the structure of his physical features like he hadn’t considered before. He wondered what it was that made him so different from all the others, when his outside appearance made him blend with the crowd fine enough, just like the man in the bed before him had something that made him different. Just like the man in the other bed had something that made him different, too.

 

He didn’t get the chance to muse any more about it since Sam’s forehead crinkled with a tiny frown, dragged from sleep slowly by the weight of his stare. He waited for the man to open his eyes, but when the lashes drew up slowly the sight made him step back with a gasp of apprehension. Sam blinked the sleep out of his eyes after a second and he instantly doubted his own perception since everything was perfectly normal. He completely missed the hand snaking out from beneath the covers and nearly jumped out of his skin when it poked him gently in the side.

“Hey there, can’t sleep?”

He nodded reluctantly, and the hand beckoned him by holding the covers open for him to slip in. He clambered up to the bed and lay down on Sam’s left arm, his head pressed against the flat planes of his chest that was only covered by a thin t-shirt, his hand fisted tightly in the dark material. With the reassuring throb of the steady beat that was one of the first things he’d ever heard with his own ears, he finally succumbed to sleep.

 

~*~

 

Waking up seemed to be one of the things he’d done most since his physical existence begun, but he found it a different experience every time. This time it was the absence of the heady sunrays that had caressed him in his sleep just moments before. He turned around in the heavy embrace of warm arms and blinked up at the source blocking his light and recoiled, rolling back against Sam’s broad chest with a bated breath. Dean loomed over him like one of the avengers, eyes dark and hard, but his face grave and blank, unreadable. The light that spilled around his form made the marks of angelic power visible, but did nothing to hide the inevitable darkness that was buried shallowly under the surface of the bindings of grace. It made the man a beautiful and terrifying sight to behold until he blinked and Dean was back to his ordinary outside appearance, his eyes showing a hint of concern and the strain around his mouth softened to a mere whisper of tension. He addressed him with a low whisper.

“I’m sorry, I…”

“It’s ok, come on up, let’s get you started before Sammy wakes up and needs the bathroom all to himself.”

He noticed then, that very slight tremors where running through Sam’s frame – still invisible to the eye – and that his skin was feverishly hot and clammy. He crawled out from under his arms slowly and Sam turned and huffed out a breath, but didn’t wake up. He scrambled into Dean’s waiting arms and the man picked him up with a little more casual ease than his brother. Moments later, he found himself in the bathroom, his head pressed against Dean’s cheek, words mumbled sharply into his ear.

“Listen, I don’t know if you really are what you are… or something more… or something less. But whatever you end up doing; make sure that no harm ever comes to him, you hear me?” He nodded breathlessly, knowing exactly what Dean meant. “You have to promise, promise me, whatever happens, he’ll be save.”

“I swear.”

He looked Dean in the eye and tried put all honesty he could muster in his gaze, because whatever happened really, he would protect these men that had taken him in despite the tales ingrained in their minds and had shown him kindness and humanity. He would do whatever was in his power to keep them safe. The other man seemed satisfied with his response and nodded quietly, before setting him down to start their morning routine as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

 

Sam took the first turn at the wheel when they left even though he and Dean changed a look over it that could just as well have been a screaming match, but Dean conceded and rode shotgun in the morning telling him all about the landscapes and states and streets they passed on their way. They stopped early for lunch however and when they were ready to leave again, Sam slumped down into the passenger’s seat without a word. He noticed that the tall man was pale and a bead of sweat was trickling down his brow, his shoulders hunched as if he was waiting for a blow. He got distracted by Dean rambling on about cars and music and ‘things you need to know about taste, you know’, but after a few hours more he felt Dean’s anxiousness shine through when they couldn’t ignore the visible tremors, the blood drained features, the laboured breaths and the little distressed sounds of pain that Sam was desperately trying to keep under wraps. Sam appeared to be caught in a fitful slumber, and his brother’s more and more frequent glances did nothing to alleviate his worry.

“What’s the matter with Sam? Why is he hurting so much?”

Dean turned around with a pinched expression and he could hear the strain in his voice when he said: “Sammy’s just a little bit sick; it’s bound to happen, ok? He will be alright.”

Dean sounded like he wasn’t sure he could believe that himself. He looked at the older brother in anguish, since he didn’t know what was causing this ailment for Sam, but he resolved to find out on his own when Dean wasn’t about to share any details. He took the large hand between his small fingers and when he touched the sweat-slick skin the truth opened up in front of him like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Everything finally clicked into place, well, at least most of them did. With a gasp he withdrew his hand and swivelled around to Dean.

“That’s… he’s all… he needs…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence due to the violent swerve Dean did to bring the car to a stop on the side of the road before rounding on him. He felt the uncomfortable sensation of the other man’s hands gripping his shoulders like a vice and shaking him so he could hardly understand Dean’s words.

“No, we are so NOT doing that you hear me? Never in a million years.”

He was completely stumped by Dean’s violent reaction since he only wanted to heal Sam and ease his pain.

“But he needs help.”

“I know, but not... not this. Don’t you understand this is how the whole mess started out and I won’t have it? I can’t do it, not again, ok?! We will find another way.”

He found anguish and concern and genuine hurt in Dean’s eyes and accepted that the man had his reasons, which was why he nodded even if his very instinct told him to act differently. He didn’t, however, want to forgo what little comfort he could give Sam, so he snuggled up to the man, keeping his big hand clasped in his small fingers and smashing his face against his biceps. He sniffled slightly, but no salty wetness left his eyes this time, when Sam’s other hand came up and patted his head awkwardly.

“It’s alright,… I’m going to be ok,… promise.”

He didn’t answer, but kept on breathing slow and steady as if he could make it easier for Sam like this. For the first time, he regretted the limits of this existence, but he would have to abide the rules just like everyone or everything was forfeit, that much he knew. He’d just have to come up with a way to get through to Dean and make him face the truth. He didn’t pay attention to anything else from then on, not the deep rumble of the sleek black car flying down the empty roads, not the piercing rays of sunlight, not Dean’s troubled presence, just his steady, calm breaths and the hope they would help Sam somehow. After some time he felt the coiled tension ease and the shivers cease a bit, and he let out a relieved sigh when the car rumbled to a halt and the engine died as Dean turned the key.

part five