More Than Enough
Author: Tara aka LovinJackson
Summary: Tag to 4.17 - It's A Terrible Life. Sometimes what matters the most is right there in front of you.
Disclaimer: Supernatural is owned by Eric Kripke. Not me … although that totally isn't fair.
A/N -1: It's been a while but it feels good to be back again. It's not the story I was hoping to bring you first off, that is still under construction (honestly, I am working on it. I actually have a small chunk written lol) but when my great friend Nana56 asked me to write a tag for the latest episode of Supernatural "It's A Terrible Life" I couldn't refuse her hehe So this story is for her *hugs* I cant wait to meet you in a few weeks, my friend!! I hope you like this.
I wanna thank Angelustatt for putting up with my 'whining' over this piece and every other freaking piece I write lately. This probably wouldn't have been finished as soon as it has without her. Mum? Sorry we didn't get to do the combined correcting session … I needed to get this out there … that said, all mistakes are my own. It hasn't been beta'd and I went over this myself.
Okay, I'll stop rambling and let you read …
More Than Enough
Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero. ~ Marc Brown
He was probably insane. The world was going to shit financially, people were striving to keep their jobs no matter how soul destroying and mundane they were and here he was walking away from that.
But it didn't matter. He had never remembered feeling so justified as he had when he had taken that crowbar and smashed his phone to smithereens. All those people in their identical yellow polo-shirts staring at him like he had lost his mind could go along working in their dead end jobs, barely surviving. If they were content to do that then good for them but Sam Wesson wasn't settling for that any longer.
The elevator was right in front of him as he walked towards his freedom, head held higher and heart a little lighter. He stopped in the middle of the carpeted hallway outside of his former workspace and stared at the elevator doors, a lone business man – big boss guy … if he remembered correctly - was standing there waiting for the carriage to come and collect him.
The ghost – and that still sounded as weird as it did natural – was dead. He had killed it in time and he was pretty sure that it didn't present a threat anymore but Sam was sure that he would never look at elevators the same again. The security guards blood still felt warm on his skin despite having scrubbed himself clean as soon as he had arrived home that night.
Sam walked closer, the tall bald man turning, acknowledging him at the sound of his footsteps. The man smiled and nodded his head towards the elevator as the light dinged on and the doors slid open. "You heading down, son?"
Sam shook off his hesitation and smiled and nodded himself. "Yeah … thanks," he added as the man held his arm across the doors to keep them open for them. Sam stepped into the elevator, swallowing hard as he looked at the doors closing from the inside.
The elevator began its descent, rocking its two occupants forward with the motion. Sam's mind drifted back to the night before, to how right it had seemed when he had been with Dean, fighting that ghost.
Dean had shut him out last night, ordered him out and most likely gone back to his corporate little lifestyle. Sam couldn't ignore the facts. He hadn't had those dreams for nothing. It wasn't just a coincidence that it had been Dean Smith in his dreams when he'd previously never met the man before in his life. The natural instincts were as confusing as the dreams but they had to mean something and Sam couldn't just sit on that and waste his life away.
The elevator rocked to a sharp stop and snapped Sam out of his racing thoughts. His hand went to the elevator wall and his wide eyes looked up at the floor number display. It was happening again. Maybe they hadn't killed the ghost properly? Maybe they had screwed up.
"Calm down, Sam. You're perfectly safe."
Sam's attention whipped to the other man in the small elevator. "What?"
"You did good, son. Better than I expected, I'll be honest." The man was standing there, calm and satisfied even. His hands up and open in an almost placating gesture.
"What?" Sam asked again, eyes narrowing in distrust and confusion. He pressed himself up against the wall. Had they been caught in their activities the night before? "Who the hell are you and what the hell do you mean. If this is about work then you're a bit late … I just quit," Sam warned. Had this guy stopped the elevator? But Sam hadn't seen him even go near the buttons.
The man took a step forward, looking up to the ceiling wistfully for a second before looking back to Sam. "I guess you could say this is about work," he surmised.
"What is that supposed …" Sam's sentence was cut off when the man cleared the remaining distance between them and touched a finger to Sam's forehead.
The man stepped back and everything changed, Sam's perception of all around him spun in and out and he blinked a few times to steady himself. He was still standing in the elevator, the bald guy in the suit was still standing there looking smug but everything was different.
The parts that were missing, the parts that hadn't made sense, that had kept him feeling out of place and hollow were uncovered. Memories assaulted him, memories of Dean, of his brother, of growing up with that steady presence returned in a flood like they had never been hidden. Dad's lessons, hunting with his family, leaving for Stanford, Dad's harsh words and Dean's broken eyes all fit back into place. Jessica, Madison, Dad, Dean, and Bobby … Hell ... Ruby … everything was back where it was supposed to be and it made him feel a little dizzy.
Sam dropped the bag off his shoulder and looked down at the sickly yellow polo-shirt and tan pants. He brought up his hands and ran them down the clothing in confusion.
"Doesn't really agree with your complexion."
Sam was reminded that he wasn't alone and his gaze snapped up to meet that of the man in front of him. Sam stood straighter and pushed off the wall, standing strong. He surged forward, his fingers flexing around the thick throat as he used his weight and muscle to pin the man to the other side of the elevator. "Who. Are. You?" Sam asked through clenched teeth, leaning into the man's space.
"Think about it, Sam."
The man's eyes were large and blue and old, ancient even and then suddenly the touch to his forehead came back to him, memories of that same action at the hands of another came to him and he pulled back a little in understanding. "You … you're an angel?"
"Zachariah," the man agreed with a nod and a smirk. "I knew you would get it, demon blood or not you've never been slow, Sam."
"What the hell is going on? Haven't you guys done enough already?" Sam asked, not letting up on the pressure he had pinning the angel to the wall.
Zachariah pushed back against Sam and with little effort Sam moved back, stumbling slightly before righting himself. The angel straightened his host's suit a little but kept his gaze on Sam. "As I told your brother, Sam, I'm not just any angel. I'm Castiel's superior. Mind yourself."
We were friends … more like brothers.
His own words from the previous night filtered through his mind and Sam took a step back. His brother. That's what had been missing. That had been the big hole that had left him empty during the last three weeks. But if Sam were honest with himself? The emptiness had been going on for a lot longer than three weeks. They hadn't really been acting like brothers since Dean had come back from Hell. Sure, they had gone through the motions and they still joked and teased and argued like brothers, they still loved each other but there was a difference. Dean's words to him during the sirens hold now held clarity for Sam as well.
Last night they had worked a case together, they'd researched and fought the ghost and had each others backs the whole way. There was no secrets, no angels, no demons, just two people enjoying each others company while saving lives. It hadn't been that way for a long time. Maybe Dean was right. He missed them.
"My brother …"
Sam's glare got hotter. The last time the angels had anything to do with them Dean had ended up in hospital. "Am I supposed to believe that?" Sam snapped, running a hand through his hair, glancing down at his shirt again. What the hell was he wearing? "And what the hell was this anyway?"
"This was a test … a test you both past with flying colours by the way. You both needed to see what was most important."
"What you think is important you mean?" Sam flung back at him, frustration turning into anger. "We aren't puppets you can just pull strings on."
"The fact that you continually go against our wishes in regards to your … talents is a clear example of that. This wasn't a game, Sam. This was a reminder of what you both are and what you both need to remember," Zachariah told him, coming to stand in front of him again, his gaze piercing. "Your brother is so convinced that he doesn't have what it takes and you're so convinced that you don't need him."
A short laugh burst from Sam's throat. "What? You're playing ghost of Christmas past now? Showing us how it could be?"
"In a way … only this was real. You've been living the life of every other normal clueless Joe and yet you both found your way to the hunt, you enjoyed it … you worked well together."
"And you needed to screw us around to tell you that?" Sam scoffed.
"No, Sam…" Zachariah said, giving Sam a knowing smile. "…to tell you that." The angel tapped his vessels head and took a step back. "Make use of this lesson, Sam."
With a rushing sound of wings, Sam was left alone in the small elevator as the lights lit back up and the car started moving down again. Sam's gaze darted around. As many times as he experienced the angels appearing and disappearing routine it was always a bit of a shock when it happened.
He'd been living a whole other life for three weeks. He was still trying to wrap his head around that idea. It had all been a bit jumbled with his real memories back but the more time went by the more he remembered of his last three weeks ... the more he desperately wanted to see his brother.
Sam patted his pockets down; trying to ignore the dreadful uniform he was wearing and found his cell phone. He growled in frustration when he got no reception. He was in an elevator and he should have expected it. Shoving the phone – which wasn't even actually his – back into his pocket, Sam paced the small area, his heart racing with what ifs. Dean was okay. He had to be right?
The angel had said that they had both passed the test but what did that mean exactly? Had Dean quit like he had just done? Had he actually had a change of heart? Sam rolled his eyes at himself and the angels and life. He wouldn't know until he could get out of this freaking elevator.
Dean paced … and paced in front of the elevator doors. Sam was in that elevator. He was sure of it. Sam will meet you downstairs. That's all Zachariah had said to him before he winked and did the typical disappearing act.
He'd tried to call Sam on a phone that he didn't recognise as his own. The phone was something more like what Sam would have and he had started to wonder where the hell is actual cell phone was which lead to him wondering where the hell his car was. He had been driving a … a Prius. If his car wasn't somewhere safe someone was going to be paying with the life.
Dean looked at the expensive platinum watch on his wrist. It wasn't him. None of this was him and yet he seemed to assimilate into this life easily. It was unnerving even if he had been stripped of all his memories and placed into this life.
The elevator had been stuck on the same floor for entirely way too long for Dean's liking. He brought his attention back to the light above the elevator door and huffed a sigh of relief when he realised it was moving again. "Finally."
He needed to see his brother.
As soon as the doors to the elevator opened, Dean moved forward. A yellow blur blasted out, colliding with him in a frantic rush. "Whoa … whoa, Sam?" Dean gripped Sam's arms, catching the younger man's attention.
Sam eyes widened in recognition and mirrored Dean; bring his arms up, fingers clutching at Dean's suit jacket. "Dean?"
"Yeah … you?"
"Yeah …" he confirmed and then paused and looked down at himself. He stood back and picked at the suspenders and tie, glancing up again. "As okay as I can be with the corporate torture."
Sam laughed short and quick in acknowledgement of Dean's clothes. "It could be worse." He indicated his own clothes. "How did you know I'd be coming down here?" he asked, confusion still present, almost vibrating off the younger man.
"Our friendly angel messenger service," Dean quipped. Zachariah was Castiel's boss and he hadn't actually done anything to hurt them, in fact he had done more to enlighten him than the people closest to him, but at the same time Dean was sick of being dicked around by angels, by demons, by Sam … the list was growing and his trust was fledging and he wouldn't be lying if he said he'd been anything but comfortable until he had seen Sam for himself. "Zac told me you'd meet me downstairs … I was almost going to come up and get you myself. What happened? What took the elevator so freaking long to get down here."
Sam's brow arched and his lip twitched in irony. "Our friendly angel messenger service."
Dean's eyes hardened. The angels' threat to Sam regarding his powers and the fact that the kid continued to use them was always on his mind. He didn't feel comfortable with the angels talking to Sam, especially ones he wasn't familiar with … Castiel's boss or not. "He came to see you?" he almost growled. "What did he want?"
Sam glanced around him all of a sudden, looking almost self conscious and causing Dean to do the same. "Dean, we should get out of here. We don't belong here."
"I won't argue with that." Dean turned and walked in sync with his brother at his side, trying to act casual as other people he had vague recollections of smiled at him as they passed.
He'd been working with some of the people in this building for the better part of three weeks but he hadn't really connected with anyone. It was all politeness and smiles and generally going through the motions, but none of it was real. He wondered briefly if that was how people in general went about life. He'd never had a lot of friends growing up; they moved around too much to make friends. It hadn't even been worth it to try and he'd always had Sam … Sam and Dad, and it had been enough.
Sam had always been a different creature, making connections with people they met through their travels, always wanting to be normal. Sam had changed now, even more so since he had been to Hell, but Dean couldn't help but wonder how this experience had been for Sam. Not so much how he had been feeling at the time because Dean remembered the conversation with Sam in his apartment about how his life meant more and how he hated his job and all the rest but how Sam felt about it now that he remembered everything.
Dean exited through the rotating glass doors behind his brother, feeling almost giddy with happiness, or excitement, or whatever the hell is it was, to be with his brother again, to be himself again. Dean had already admitted that he missed his brother … he missed being brothers, but that sentiment had been slapped back in his face.
The previous night, while hunting with Sam, Dean had felt a moment or two of the same kind of buzz he used to get before his life became revolved around sacrifice and hell and demons and angels and the apocalypse. He'd felt that same connection with his brother that he hadn't felt in a long time, the same connection that he had been pleading for. Sam had felt like his brother again, reminding Dean of how much he missed that all over again.
Both boys stopped outside the door and looked out into the busy street at the bottom of the Sandover building. People were walking the street, some moving past them to get into the building and Dean for once wasn't sure what to do.
"Where's your car?"
Sam's voice brought him out of his thoughts and Dean looked up at him. He automatically shoved his hands in his pockets and brought out the keys in his pocket and stared at them.
"The car? Those … they aren't your keys."
Gripping the keys in his hand, Dean jerked his head to the left. "Come on," he said without further explanation. With the knowledge that Sam was following his lead, Dean set off in the direction he knew he had parked the car that morning … the underground parking lot beneath the building.
The occasional squeak of tyres and their own footsteps were the only sounds echoing through the parking lot. Dean looked for a car that was his, only now it just seemed vaguely familiar. What the hell had he been thinking? Whammied by angels or not … Dean shuddered.
The small silver car came into sight and Dean pressed the remote central locking key, watching as the lights blinked indicating that the doors were now unlocked.
"No … no way …"
Dean glanced over his shoulder to see that his brother had stopped a few feet from the car. Turning on his heel to face his Sam, he rested one hand on the car's roof. It was then that Dean noticed the missing glint from his ring finger. The silver ring he never took off was gone, just like everything else that identified him had been taken. It felt wrong not wearing it and he had the sudden urge to reach up and check for the amulet that always hung from his neck but he didn't. He knew it wouldn't be there. Attention back on Sam, Dean twirled the keys around his finger impatiently. "What?"
Sam pointed to the car, his finger directing Dean's vision to the back of the car. He glanced back up and rolled his eyes as Sam barked out a laugh.
"A Prius?" Sam questioned, a hand placed to his belly, his lips twitching, pleading to break into a smile. Sam's attempts to refrain from smiling did nothing to hide the obvious amusement Sam found in this new development. "Really?" Sam bit his lip in a useless effort to control the impulse to laugh again. "It … uh … it suits you, Dean."
Dean glared at Sam, then glared at the shiny silver frame of the Prius and then glared back at Sam once more. "Yeah, yeah … laugh it up, Banana Republic. You're the one that has to squeeze those freakishly long legs into the passenger seat."
"Yeah, he's fine, Bobby." Sam spoke into the cell phone while keeping an eye on his brother through the glass. Dean wasn't wasting anytime hoeing into his double bacon cheese burger. Even from behind the dirty glass of the city diner, Dean looked like he just might inhale the whole thing. "Yeah, I am too. Sorry we …" Sam's apology for worrying the man was cut off for the second time since he'd called the older hunter.
"I know, I know … we'll tell you more when we get there. I should probably get back in there and make sure he actually remembers to chew," Sam half joked, shaking his head. "Yeah, three weeks of being a health freak doesn't agree with him."
It made Sam wonder what exactly Zachariah had done to them during his little 'test'. They hadn't just had their memories wiped for the duration but new ones put in place. Dean's natural instinct to eat only foods that would clog his arteries had turned into a man that wouldn't even have a beer and had a fear of carbohydrates. In a way Sam guessed it only brought the point home harder. No matter how different their lifestyles had been, they had still found their way to the hunt and they had still found each other.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm still here," Sam answered, Bobby's voice calling him back to the present. "Listen, thanks, Bobby. We'll see you soon, okay? Take it easy." Sam nodded in response to Bobby's voice. "Will do. Bye."
Sam ended the call and slipped the phone back into the pocket of his tan pants. He ran a hand through his hair and then stretched a little, working the kinks out of his back and neck from being in such a small space. The Prius was not built for excessively tall people.
Dean finally looked up from his love affair with his burger and met his gaze through the glass window. With a single look, Sam knew he was being ordered inside. Dean was impatient for news. The older man had wanted to call Bobby himself but his need for fuel had won out and he'd had agreed for Sam to make the call while he replenished his system with Dean Winchester style sustenance.
Sam walked back into the diner and continued on to their booth, almost falling down in the seat, trying not to kick Dean's legs with his own as he situated them underneath the table top.
"Wha' id Bobby 'ay?" Dean asked his mouth full of beef and cheese and bacon and god only knew what else.
Dean looked smug and continued chewing. It was almost disturbing how much he looked to be enjoying that burger. After one big swallow, Dean followed it up with a long drink from his glass of beer. "Oh you have no idea how good this is," he moaned contently.
"I'll take you're word for it, dude." Sam took a bite from his own burger and shrugged. It wasn't any worse than he'd had before but it certainly wasn't the best he'd had either.
Dean shook his head, freeing a hand to wave it in front of Sam, obviously not accepting Sam's dismissal of the heavenly food. "Salads, Sam, Latte's, diets … how do people live like that?"
"They live quite fine, actually. In fact they probably live a lot longer …" he trailed off and looked up as a smiling waitress lowered another large bowl of fries down in front of them, earning a wink from his over food sensitized brother. Once she left, Sam took in the sight before him.
Dean reached out and scooped up a handful of fries and dipped them into the ketchup he'd obviously poured on the small plate while Sam had been out on the phone with Bobby. He crammed the bunch of fries in his mouth and chewed as he met Sam's stare. The action kind of reminded him of Ruby, back before he had known she was a demon when she had informed him that the fries tasted like deep fried crack. Sam shook his head, he didn't need to be thinking of her right now, although he would have been lying if he hadn't been wondering where she was and what she was thinking right now. Had she'd known where they were or had she been kept from the truth like Bobby. It didn't matter. That could all wait because for the first time in a long time he didn't have that urge, that need to see her, to have her and what she was offering. It was like he'd been through a withdrawal that he didn't remember.
"So what did Bobby say?" Dean asked with his mouth less full than before.
Sam shifted in his seat and scooped up a handful of fries for himself and dipped them in his brother's sea of ketchup. "He said that we scared the living crap outta him," Sam told him before shoving the fries into his mouth. He finished his mouthful and then continued. "He's been looking for us, tried every trick he knew and then some and came up with nada …"
"You think Zac was shielding us or something?" Dean asked, pulling his plate of ketchup closer to himself while placing the bottle of ketchup within Sam's reach … Dean's way of telling him to get his own ketchup.
"I dunno … maybe? But he has some good news."
Dean's eyebrows rose in interest and he took another small bite and swallowed quickly. "Oh?"
"Yeah … he has the Impala."
Dean lowered the burger, his attention finally successfully been pulled from the food and Sam acknowledge that if anything was going to do that it would have been his beloved car.
"He has my car? Is she okay?"
Sam rolled his eyes but nodded. "She's fine and that's not all … all of our stuff was there too."
Sam nodded. "Everything … as far as Bobby could tell. He went through a lot of it when he realised something was wrong."
"Wait …" Dean held his hand up, his other hand still not letting go of the half eaten burger. "How the hell did the car get to Bobby's?"
Sam shrugged. "Bobby doesn't know for sure. He walked outside one morning to find the Impala there right outside his door, packed with everything we own. My money is on the angel. Bobby wasn't impressed."
"That makes two of us," Dean agreed.
"Three of us." They had practically been kidnapped for three weeks. Good intentions or not. "Anyway, I told Bobby we would head straight there."
"I need my baby back."
"What are you gonna do about the Prius?" Sam was still laughing about the little car and even more so over what he had found programmed into the car stereo … Dean really had been a corporate douchebag. Sam snickered and then sobered quickly when his shin exploded in pain.
"What? Can you do that?"
"Why not? The car is registered to Dean Smith."
"You're not Dean Smith." Sam pointed out.
Dean grinned. "Since when has that stopped me before?" He took another bite from his almost completely devoured burger.
Dean wasn't wrong. They lived their lives under fake names, using fake cards and fake insurance.
"Besides, it's kinda owed to us."
"Sam sat back and scoffed. "And since when has this type of lifestyle ever given a rats ass what's owed to us? I think the fact that we have the fate of the world on our shoulders is a great example of how fate screws us over."
Dean was quiet for a long moment. His green gaze fixed on Sam's blue-green one. The intensity of emotion in those eyes directed solely on him was making him uncomfortable and he was about to ask Dean if everything was okay when his brother smiled. It wasn't a big one, or an enthusiastic one. It was tired but genuine for the first time Sam had seen in a long time.
"There are fate's worse than ours, Sammy." It almost sounded like Dean had come to some peace about that. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
Sammy. It had been a real long time since Dean had used that name for him and Sam was surprised at the kind of emotion it tore from him. This time there would be no requests for Dean to not call him that. He wanted to hear that name from his brother's lips. He wanted to see that softness in Dean's eyes. The sure, confident and caring look in Dean's eyes that told Sam that everything would be alright had disappeared a long time ago. He'd just seen a glimpse of it and now he wasn't sure what to do with it. It caused hope to surge through him, more than Ruby ever had.
"Besides, we still have each other. Apparently even when I don't know you I can't get rid of you," Dean teased in conclusion.
"I'm afraid you're stuck with me, Dean."
If Sam had learnt one thing through this experience? It wasn't that he was meant to be a hunter, it wasn't that he was good at it. He had learnt that something had been missing for a long time. His relationship with Dean had been fraying under the pressure of the war, the apocalypse, new relationships. Change was scary and dangerous but there was one thing that wouldn't change. Dean was his brother. He missed them and maybe … just maybe, if they worked together they could stand a chance. It had taken him a little longer than Dean to get to that conclusion but he was there and whatever happened from this point on? They were going to deal with it together. Sam would make sure of it.
Sam let go of the breath he'd been holding when Dean broke the second silence he'd lapsed into in the last few minutes with a soft smile and a nod, his eyes dropped back to burger. "Good. I suppose I can handle that." Dean took the final bite from his burger and chewed.
"There are worse fates than that." Sam added, parroting what Dean had said only just before.
Sam dodged the few fries that came flying his way but he couldn't keep the smile from his face. Things weren't perfect, far from it, but right now Sam felt at home with his brother and in return felt at home within himself. And for now? That was more than enough.
A/N-2: And there it is. My first episode tag. Was it okay? Did you like it? I would love to know what you think :)
So, Nana56, this was written purely for you ;) A present for being such a cool person and an awesome friend ;) I can't wait to meet both you and the hubby ;)
Okay, so like I said at the beginning … I am still writing my next Brotherhood Fic for anyone who is actually interested. And I keep saying that but it will turn up eventually. I promise. That WILL be my next story ;)
Hope everyone has a great week! For me? I'm that little bit closer to my holiday and my supernatural convention *waves at Angelustatt* 17 days til we meet the boys, mate :P almost 15 days til you visit :D I can't wait *hugs*
Take care, everyone