“The Road So Far.”
Previously, in the Metallica Chronicles…
Just when his fingers touched the handle, when he could hear Dean break through the trees, there was a gunshot –
Once.
Twice.
Sam screamed, his voice lost in the sound of the third gunshot.
Someone else screamed too and Sam looked down at himself to see blood soaking his front, spilling to the ground. Shock was making him slow, stupid… was that his blood?
Dean was there but it was all wrong, a mistake, because Dean was too pale and there were red shadows creeping over them… trying to hide him from Sam.
“Sammy? Oh, God. Sam.” Dean lifted Sam up, tried to pull him against him until Sam’s low cry made him stop.
A part of Sam’s mind recognized that it was his torso that had been shot, three dead-on shots. Sam tried to focus on Dean though, even while he swayed.
If that was that, if Sam only had a moment, he had to focus on his brother.
“I…” Sam almost couldn’t say it, everything was beginning to fade with the pain and he couldn’t control his tongue, the blood was filling his throat.
“I was coming home, De,” Sam said, a gurgling croak of words that only someone who knew Sam inside and out could comprehend.
Only Dean could understand what he said, what he meant.
Sam had tried, he tried so hard. Sam didn’t mean to leave him, leave Harry, he didn’t.
Sam had only wanted to get back to his brothers because that’s where home was.
*****
Sam meant too much to only be remembered by a brief blip of time, even shorter than the time Harry had his parents for.
Sell his soul? Easy.
Harry wasn’t afraid of Hell, he couldn’t even properly wrap his mind around the idea of it. What was hell? Pain? Fine. Harry was hurting anyway.
Ten years of happiness for some pain after he died was an easy trade, not even a question.
*****
Dean knew just how to do it and what he was going to ask for.
Standard contract: ten years of life to spend with both of his brothers and then Dean would head straight to Hell.
Dad did it for Dean, Dean would do it for Sam.
“I want to make a deal,” Dean drawled, forcing himself to sound casual, confident. No need to show the bitch how desperate he was.
“Nobody’s going to give you ten years. Not when little bro is trying to beat you to the punch.”
*****
The deal Harry hoped to make was quickly becoming less of Harry getting as much time as possible with his brothers and twisting to become Harry trying to keep them from losing each other.
Harry spoke on impulse, more desperate than he had ever been in his life. “You tell me what I have to offer for him to be left alone and I’ll do it.”
*****
“You tell me what to offer and it’s yours,” Dean said, laying it all out there.
Dean didn’t save Sam, but he’d be damned if he screwed up with Harry. Harry didn’t need to clean up Dean’s mistake, not like how Dean had always cleaned up after his dad.
It wasn’t going to be like that, Dean wasn’t going to let it.
*****
Six months? That… that was nothing.
He thought ten years, would have settled for five… six months though?
It didn’t matter, not really. The demon knew he was going to accept, he knew was going to accept.
Truthfully? If it weren’t for Sam… it didn’t matter. It didn’t. Six months or six days made no difference at all.
As long as Sam lived, it didn’t matter.
“Fine.” He held his hand out to the demon. “Deal.”