Losing Sam, Part 3.8, Supernatural, Keeper!Verse, R

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: Losing Sam, Arc 3.8 (All Keeper Verse Here, including Arcs 1 & 2)
Rating: R
Word Count: 37,625 (total arc)
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean (long term established wincest), John, Dana (Dean's daughter) Missouri, OFC & OMC
Summary: Dean and Dana bring Bellius home, and Missouri has a few choice words for Dean. John and Sam spend the day together.


A/Ns & Warnings: This story pics up after arc 2 as written by shotofjack. It would never have happened without her. From the original concept to her beta, this fic owes a good amount to her. Expect a chapter a day until it is finished.




Dana was as close to collapse as she’d ever been as they pulled in to the house. Missouri was on the front porch with a cup of coffee and a pissed off expression. Her father pulled them into the garage, much better for unloading prisoners in broad daylight.

She could already feel the containment field, Its strength flowed out of the whole south side of the garage. Once she’d shored it up, even Bellius wouldn’t be going anywhere.

She sighed heavily and climbed wearily out of the car. Missouri joined them, her expression switching to concern when she got close. “Dana, are you okay?”

Dana rubbed her eyes and nodded. “Tired. Gotta deal with this first.” She waved a hand at the back seat and Missouri nodded. Dean got the door opened and pulled Bellius out. Dana circled the car and poked at the walls of the containment. “This is excellent, Missouri…really top notch.” She made an opening and helped her father drag Bellius inside.

She wanted to run the spell again, to push back her fatigue and deal, but she was set up for some seriously ugly blowback already and didn’t want to risk it. She raised a hand and sealed up the opening, then set about shoring up the field with psychic rebar and cinder blocks. By the time she was done, God himself would have had a time getting out of it.

She turned to say something to her father, but the room didn’t stop spinning when she did. She felt her father reach for her, then the overwhelming crush of darkness and pain.



John looked up from the breakfast he was cooking on the camp stove, not surprised to find Ally and Inda approaching. Sam hadn’t come out of the tent yet.

“Coffee?” He held up two cups as they got close enough.

“I take it Samuel made it without getting too hurt or lost.” Ally said, taking her cup.

“Showed up around 2:30. Said he’d had a nightmare.”

Inda nodded. “They have been getting worse.”

“They’ve always been bad.” John said, sipping from his own coffee. “He’s still asleep.”

Ally smiled. “No, he’s just hiding. Afraid we’ll be angry with him.”

“Well, breakfast is almost ready. Why don’t you two have a seat?”

Inda frowned at him. “You made us breakfast?”

“I figured you’d be down just as soon as you knew Sam was missing…figured a meal together wouldn’t hurt.” John chuckled. “You two sit, I’ll get Sammy.”

John went to the tent, ducking inside. Sam was sitting, wrapped up in his blanket. “Hey, kiddo. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“You’re going to make me go back.”

John spared a glance over his shoulder, then stepped all the way into the tent. “You don’t want to go back?”

Sam chewed on his lip for a minute. “I don’t want to remember more…not yet. I want to be with you. I want to go fishing and stuff. I don’t like the other stuff. I don’t like remembering.”

John nodded. He could completely understand that. “You’re the one who told me that those memories are a part of who you are.”

Sam looked up at him, his eyes big and green. “Just for now, Daddy. Just for today? Can it just be you and me today? Tomorrow. I’ll go back tomorrow.”

John brushed a hand over his cheek and nodded. “I’ll tell you what. Come out and eat breakfast with us and we’ll talk to Inda and Ally and see what they think.”

“Okay.” Sam said after a few minutes of thinking about it. “Okay, Daddy.”

“Good boy.” John took his hand and led Sam out. “You sit here Sam. I’ll get you some breakfast.”

“Good morning Samuel.” Ally said softly.

Sam looked shy, covering his lower face with his blanket. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“We weren’t scared, Samuel.” Inda said. “Concerned that you might have gotten hurt, but not scared.”

“I fell down the hill.” Sam offered. “Got my knees muddy.” He pulled the blanket away to show them his knees.

John handed Sam a plate and fork, then Ally and Inda. “Sam here is wondering if it would be okay if he took a break today, if he and I went fishing and hung out together.” John said as he sat on the tailgate and dug into his own plate.

Ally raised an eyebrow at Sam. “Is this true, Samuel?”

Sam blushed, but nodded. “I just want my Daddy today.”

Inda and Ally seemed to communicate psychically…John had seen it enough between Sam and Dana and Sam and Dean that he knew the signs. “Are you equipped for this?” Inda asked John after a few minutes.

John nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I can bring him up to you in the morning.”

“Very well then.” Ally smiled at Sam.

“Really? I mean really, really?”

John chuckled at how much he sounded like Dana.

“Yes, Samuel, really. You have worked hard and deserve a day of rest.”

Sam beamed, his smile wide and bright. “Eat up Sam, you’re going to need it. We’ll gear up and head out to fish when you’re done.”

John watched him shovel eggs and sausage into his mouth. He hadn’t expected this when he’d headed out to watch over him. Hadn’t expected to get this…how could he? He sighed and sipped his coffee, thankful for each moment of the next twenty-four hours.



“What in hell were you thinking, boy?”

Missouri’s voice in a hushed, angry whisper. It reverberated around in Dana’s skull. “No, obviously you weren’t thinking at all. I should walk out of this house and never come back. If it weren’t for that little girl I would. Can’t leave her here with the likes of you.”

“Not little.” Dana grumbled, pulling herself up from the pit of burning lava that was her insides into the blazing heat of Missouri’s anger, her father’s shame and the industrial strength blowback of all the nasty shit she’d pulled to get them to safety.

There was a cool cloth and Missouri’s presence soothing across hers. “Shh…easy, girl. You took one wicked fall…on top of what I imagine is some nasty recoil.”

“Didn’t want to.” Dana mumbled. “Didn’t want to, ‘Souri.”

“I know baby girl. I know. You should rest. Your Daddy’s getting you something for the pain.”

She’d had to pull out some nasty tricks to knock Bellius down after he’d dug his claws into her shields and started pulling on them. And she’d used Sam’s spell to keep going, only it wore off too fast because she didn’t have anything to anchor it with. She’d never tell her father how close she came to losing. She’d never let them find out that Bellius had shredded her first defenses like they were made out of spun sugar…or that the pain had been unbelievable.

She only knew that, when push came to shove, she hadn’t hesitated to throw the dark. Despite everything she told her father, despite her own fears. It seemed hard to believe that only a year before she’d worried about losing Sam to the darkness…and now…

Dana groaned, the thinking too much with her stomach feeling like jello and her head too big and hot and Missouri’s cold cloth blazing on her forehead.

“Bellius…got to…” It was unclear what they had to do, only that something had to be done.

Missouri pushed her back and wiped over her face. “Not now you don’t. That thing is tucked in safe and sound, ain’t going no where. You sleep.”

Dana didn’t think anything was safe and sound, not while there was an angel in the garage, trapped in some tricky barriers, not while her head hurt like it did…not when she was afraid of herself for the first time in her life.



John found his face hurting by about one o’clock in the afternoon. His cheeks ached from smiling. Sam was like a great big little boy. His joy at everything from digging up worms to the way the fish wriggled on the end of the line was more than he’d ever imagined.

“You hungry Sammy?”

Sam turned to him, his face suddenly gone serious. “Daddy?”

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “Ally calls me Samuel.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“You don’t. It’s always Sam or Sammy.”

John nodded. “Is that okay?”

Sam seemed to think about it. “I like when you call me Sammy.”

John smiled again. “Sammy it is. You hungry?”

“Starving!”

“I’ve got sandwiches and chips. John dragged the cooler closer and pulled out the sandwiches he’d thrown together before leaving camp. “Peanut Butter and Jelly or turkey?”

“Peanut butter!”

John tossed him the peanut butter and a bag of chips. If anyone had ever told him he’d find so much happiness just watching his son eat a sandwich on the side of a stream in the middle of nowhere, John would have thought they were crazy.

Sam’s pole twitched and he lurched for it, dropping his sandwich. “I got one!” John lunged for him, got a hand on his belt just as Sam would have gone face first into the water. Sam pulled and John held on and a few minutes later, Sam had a wriggling fish in his lap.

“That may be the biggest one yet, Sammy.” John said, helping him get the fish off the hook and into the bucket with the two others they’d caught. “Looks like a good dinner.”



“Dana, honey.” Dean rubbed a hand over her forehead and she rolled deeper into her pillow. “Come on, you need to eat something.”

She groaned and tried to pull the blanket over her head. “Dana. Sit up.”

Not that he blamed her. He remembered his own bout with the after effects of his dark spell, and according to Missouri, what she’d done was far worse. But Missouri had given him instructions to make sure Dana ate a good solid meal, and Missouri was angry enough with him, he didn’t want to risk making it worse.

“Where’s Missouri?” Dana asked through the blanket.

“In the garage, keeping an eye on our prisoner.”

Dana sat up grudgingly, groaning. Dean handed her the sunglasses with a wry smile. “I kept it light, some soup and crackers, a little tea.”

She groaned again and pulled away. “What time is it?”

“Nearly five.”

She nodded and took the tea. “Need another few hours. Then I can take over.”

“No, she said you should sleep the night. She said she was fine.”

Dana squinted at him. “Since when do you listen to her so good?”

“She told me Dana.” Dean dropped his gaze, shame coloring his face.

“Told you what?” Her voice was like ice.

He sighed and collapsed into the chair beside her bed. “She…showed me.”

Missouri hadn’t been gentle, forced him to look at the damage in Dana’s mind. Told him it was her sheer force of will that subdued the likes of Bellius. Showed him what Dana had done…what she’d been forced to do, to save his sorry ass because he wouldn’t listen to her.

She paled even further. “She had no business.” Dana cradled the cup to her. “I did what I had to. It had to be done.”

Dean shook his head. “I wasn’t thinking Dana. I forced you into that. I’m sorry.”

“Not so much.” She sipped at her tea and huddled under her blanket. “It…was almost…I knew what to do and I did it. Didn’t matter if it was black as sin itself Daddy. I just did it.”

She looked miserable. “We aren’t all that different.”

He knew she meant Bellius. Missouri had already pointed it out to him. He shook his head. “No, honey, you’re nothing like him.”

“He was nothing like him once too Dad. He was a goddamn angel…and look at him now. He’s…insane.” She shuddered, closed her eyes. “I saw…he’s all twisted up inside.”



“Sammy, hold the stick higher, you’ll burn it.”

“Like this Daddy?” Sam moved his stick and its precariously dangling marshmallow up a little higher in the flames.

“Just like that. And turn it slowly, don’t want to cook just one side.” John laid out graham crackers and bits of chocolate while Sam roasted his marshmallow. He hadn’t wanted to waste time with a run to town, but when Sam told him he’d never been camping or roasted marshmallows, there really wasn’t any choice.

Sam’s face was already a sticky mess from his first marshmallow, which John had roasted for him to show him how it was done. “Okay, that looks good, bring it here.”

Sam came toward him, all concentration on the end of his stick. “Set it down on the chocolate.” John lifted the other graham cracker and smooshed it down over the marshmallow, then lifted the s’more and handed it to Sam. “Go on. Try it.”

He eyed it suspiciously before tentatively opening his mouth and trying to find a way to bite it. Eventually he just bit down, marshmallow squirting out the sides and his eyes going wide.

“Daddy!” he exclaimed around a mouthful of s’more. “It’s really, really good!”

John laughed and nodded. “Told you you’d like it.”

John watched him eat with a joy he’d never experienced from Sam. They’d fried up the fish they caught for dinner, Sam marveling repeatedly that you could do that…catch a fish and eat it. John had never seen him eat the way he had since breakfast, like there was a hole inside him he couldn’t fill up.

“Can I have another one?”

“Sure. Want help?”

Sam shook his head and speared a marshmallow on the end of his stick. “I got it Daddy. You sit and watch.”

So John did. He sat in his chair and watched his youngest son roast marshmallows and wondered if his oldest son had forgiven them yet. If Dean could only see Sam, he would. No doubt about it.



Dana shuffled out to the garage, cradling a cup of coffee and wishing that her head would go back to its normal size. Her father was asleep and it was still dark outside.

Missouri looked up as Dana closed the door. “You should be resting.”

Dana sniffled a little and crinkled her nose. “I’m fine, you need a break.”

“You aren’t in any shape, young lady.”

“My mess, Missouri. I’ll handle it.” Dana shuffled closer. Bellius was awake, still encased in her enchanted chains and watching them.

“This is your father’s mess, not yours.”

Dana yawned and nodded. “He can’t handle it, so it’s mine.”

“That’s exactly my point. He should never have put you in that position.”

“I went willingly, Missouri.” She sighed. “I don’t know what to do.” She sank into the lawn chair and looked up at Missouri. “We can’t…kill it.” She gestured vaguely at Bellius. “He’s…no demon.”

Missouri sat next to her in the other chair and patted her hand. “He’s no demon, but he ain’t rightly an angel anymore either.”

Dana yawned, watching him watch her. “He’s not evil…he’s done evil things. There’s a difference.”

“Yes, there is.” Missouri agreed.

“So what do I do?” Dana looked at Missouri for an answer, but there wasn’t one. “I found a…ritual, like an exorcism. It would send him to hell. But maybe that’s worse than just killing it.” She sighed. “He’d only get darker and darker…” She sighed again. “Like me.”

She’d dreamed, even with the drugs in her, maybe because of the drugs in her, of falling and falling and when she finally landed she’d turned…dark and evil, worse than Sam had ever been. She’d dreamed of killing…of swimming in the blood of her victims.

“Oh, Dana honey, you’re not evil either. You maybe get mixed up…but you’ve got a good soul.”

Dana shook her head. “Bellius thought too, once.” She stood and took a few steps toward the containment. “It was just the one time, for a good cause. Saved a soul. The second time was easier. For less reason.” She cocked her head. Bellius mimicked the movement. “Always for the good of someone…always seemed like the right thing. Didn’t understand why it tarnished him…unfair…trying to help…”

She pulled back, suddenly realizing he was sucking her in. She shook her head and turned to Missouri. “Sound familiar?”

“He did a number on you, tore you up. You need to get some distance.”

Dana lifted a hand to her head. It was nothing like what Sam went through, but it was vicious. “Said Sam corrupted me, that I deserved the same…” Maybe more. After all Sam was who he was because of what was done to him. She was who she was by choice. She shook her head. “We should wait for Sam. Let him decide.”

“Your daddy isn’t going to like that.”

“He doesn’t have to. My mess, my decision.”



Morning came far too early. John barely slept, laying awake watching Sam sleep. There were no nightmares, no restlessness. He slept like a child. When the birds started their morning calls, Sam shifted, stretched and sat up, smiling brightly. “Daddy.”

“Morning Sammy. You sleep okay?”

“I slept good. I dreamed about us fishing and catching the biggest fish…and taking it home to Dean.”

“You dreamed about Dean?”

Sam nodded. “He misses us. Wants us to come home.”

“I bet he does.” John said, ruffling his hair.

“I have to finish remembering before we can go, don’t I?” Sam asked, a little pout on his face.

“Yes, Sammy, I’m afraid you do.”

“I know, sort of, what’s there. I mean, if I’m really still I can feel him and sort of remember. I know I won’t like it.”

John nodded. “I know, Sammy. I only know parts of what happened to you, and I don’t like it at all.”

“I love Dean.” Sam said, though his face scrunched up, like the thought confused him.

“And he loves you, more than life itself.” John responded. His heart clenched remembering Dean saying goodbye, how Dean just ceased being Dean when he thought Sam was going to die.

“I want to see Dean.” He pulled his long legs out of the sleeping bag. “I should go to Ally and Inda.”

John drew in a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll walk with you.”

Sam put his shoes on and climbed out of the tent, looking around the camp like he wanted to remember it.

As they neared the barrier, Sam stopped, a sudden look of panic on his face. “You won’t leave, right Daddy? You’ll still be here.”

“Not going anywhere without you Sammy.” John comforted.

“Okay.”

The barrier thinned and Ally stepped through, all smiles and gentle happiness. “How was your day, Samuel?”

“We caught fish and ate them, and we had marshmallows. It was fun.”

“I am glad.”

“I’m ready now.” Sam said, all seriousness. “I miss my Dean and I want to get better so I can go home.”

She smiled and held out her hand. “I am glad for that also, Samuel.”

Sam hugged John tight before he took her hand. “I’ll see you soon Daddy.”

“I’ll be here, Sammy!” John called after him as they disappeared behind the barrier. “I’ll be right here.”