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The Cure

By mandancie


The Cure

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

A special thanks to AlElizabeth for beta'ing my story

A/N: It took me a long while before I could get over what happened during the season 9's finale. The only thing that I could think of was; To cure a demon. After watching the promo for the 10th Season, I so hope that this happens.

Spoilers: Up to Season 10. If you haven't seen season 9's finale, there will be spoilers in this story.

Summary: Sam has spent the last few times trying and failing to save his big brother. Well now he's determined to get it right.

The Cure

Sam has been busy. Getting things ready. He knew there were items that were needed. It took him a couple of hours to get the eight needles that he needed. He left the bunker. He knew he would have to hurry. Where his brother was, wasn't going to hold him for long, but maybe it will for a little while. The dungeon held Crowley for several months, so maybe it will hold Dean.

Sam drove the Impala to his destination and got out of the car. He walked into the building and could hear the low playing of an organ in the back. It sounded so serene. Sam walked towards the back of the cathedral to the confessionals. He went inside one of them and sat down.

It didn't take long for the shade to open up.

"How can I help you, my son?"

"I don't usually do this," Sam said. There was a slight chuckle in his voice though the priest knew he really wasn't laughing.

"It's alright, my child," the priest soothed. "Just tell me what's on your heart."

For the next twenty minutes, Sam spilled his heart out to the priest. His tear-streaked face looked tired and utterly exhausted. The priest sat quietly and listened to everything Sam said.

"And do you think this will save him, Sam?" the priest asked. During the course of them talking, Sam had given the priest his first name.

"It has to Father," Sam's voice was raw, but determined. "I can't just sit around and do nothing. I have to. Please."

"I don't know what you expect me to tell you, Sam."

Sam felt his heart pounding in his chest.

"Please, Father."

"Sam," the priest turned slightly towards the window. "There is nothing that I can say. There are no magic words that just make you holy. Just ask forgiveness. And He is just to forgive."

Sam put his head down, fresh tears streaked down his face. After a moment, he lifted his head and looked through the shaded window.

"Thank you, Father."

"Take care, my child."

Sam got up, wiped his face and walked out of the confessional. The drive back was very somber. There was a lot on Sam's mind.

Could it really work? Can he really do it? Can he really come back?

That and so much more rambled around in his head. But he knew one thing for certain; he was not going to give up. He's done it so many times before, but not this time.

Once he got back to the bunker, Sam walked straight to the bathroom where the eight needles were. He decided that he would draw up the blood first and have it already set so he wouldn't need to stop for anything.

Now that all was ready, Sam made the trek to the 'dungeons'. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face thinking back to all the names that Dean would put to things. The BatCave. The Dungeons. Oh God, did he miss his big brother. If all worked he would have his brother back again, then just a few more hours.

Sam opened the door to see the demon sitting at the table, handcuffed to the chair.

"Well, well, well," it said. "Look who decided to grace me with his presence."

Sam steeled his heart. Even though it may look like Dean and even sound like Dean, Sam knew that deep down it wasn't but could be… soon. If everything went accordingly.

Not saying a word, Sam began to get everything ready. He laid the now filled needles on the side table checking each one. Once he was finally satisfied with everything, Sam grabbed one of the needles and walked over to the demon that was now his brother. Sam looked at the demon that was once his brother, gripped the side of Dean's, head tilting it. And plunging the needle in his neck releasing the content inside. The demon grunted in pain.

Sam looked at the demon and asked a single question. "What do you call me?"

"A burden," the demon answered.

Sam walked out of the room leaving the demon alone in the room again. After an hour, Sam came back and grabbed the second needle. Walking towards the demon, Sam noticed that there was still no change. The demon still wanted his head.

"You're nothing but a coward," the demon grunted. "Fight me like a man. Why have me tied up?"

Sam ignored the ranting even though it broke his heart to hear it. That voice has always soothed him, but now it was nothing calming about it. Not yet.

Again, Sam plunged the needle in the demon's neck. He then looked the demon in his eyes and asked again, "What do you call me?"

"A waste of space," the demon yelled out and then spat in Sam's face.

Sam stood up, pulled the familiar blue handkerchief out of his back pocket, wiped his face and turned and left the room.

This went on for five more hours. Sam would walk into the room, plunge the needle in the demon's neck, ask the same question, when answered in hurtful, harmful words, he would then turn and walk out coming back the next hour.

On the seventh hour, both Sam and the demon were wearing down. Sam was tired. It was actually taking more out of him than he originally thought. He actually felt like he did when he had tried to cure Crowley, but he knew that with this one he couldn't stop. He had to keep going. He had to see it through.

Sam slowly walked through the doors and saw the demon with its head down. He walked over to the last two needles. He picked one up and walked over to where the demon was. Just as before, Sam put his hand on top of the demon's head to move it to the side, but this time it was different. There was no resistance. A small glimmer of hope came across his eyes. He was so tired, but he hoped that his tiredness wasn't making him see things that weren't there. Very carefully, as delicately as possible, Sam lowered the needle under the skin of the demon and plunged the contents in its neck.

With hopeful eyes, Sam looked at the demon and asked the same question again.


A pair of coal-black eyes looked up at hazel ones. The demon blinked. It looked about as tired as Sam felt. When it blinked, Sam could've sworn that he saw a hint of green in its eyes. Tears burning the back of Sam's throat, he asked the question again.

"What do you call me," his voice thick with tears. Maybe, just maybe…

"Just one," was the only thing that came from its mouth.

There was no harshness with that. Those two words were spoken in almost a soothingly calm manner. Sam just blinked and stood straight again. He turned to walk out of the room, but stopped once he got to the door. Instead of leaving, Sam turned and pulled the other chair out from the table and sat down and faced the demon.

So close, Sam thought. There's something different about it now. It. It's no longer going to be an 'it'. It's going to be him. Just one more hour. One more shot. One more, and the final incantation and it will all be over.

As the time ticked away, nothing was said between the two persons sitting in their respective chairs. At some point during the hour Sam could have sworn that he seen the demon looking at him. Almost sizing him up like he use to do. Sam allowed a small smile to grace his lips at the thought that in just a few minutes that ghost of a look of caring would be permanent.

As the alarm went off on Sam's watch, the same as it did to let him know that it was time to come down here, Sam stood up and walked over to the last needle on the table. But with the needle this time, he picked up the demon blade as well.

He walked over to the demon. It looked up at him and instead of waiting for Sam to move his head to the side, it tilted his head so to expose his neck where it been getting stuck for the past eight hours. Sam, like the hour before, carefully placed the needle under his skin and plunged the contents inside. He then made a cut in his hand and said the last of the exorcism and placed his bloody palm to the demon's mouth.

There was very little that happened. Sam then knelt down in front of him and asked the question again.


He sounded so tired and drained both physically and emotionally. He looked down at the man kneeling before him and tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Sammy," a familiar voice rang out. "What do you mean?"

Sam looked pleadingly at his brother sitting in the chair, praying that it worked.

"What did you always call me?" Tears welling up in his eyes.

With a smirk on his face, Dean looked at his brother that was on his knees.


Without even thinking about the fact that Dean was still handcuffed, tears streaming down his face, Sam got up and wrapped his arms around his now cured brother's neck. His brother was back. Dean was back. He did it. Sam did it. He found a way to save Dean. And now Dean was back.

Dean, as much as he could move his hands, which wasn't much since he was still handcuffed to the chair, gripped the sides of Sam's shirt. He could feel his baby brother shaking against his chest. He wanted to wrap his arms around his brother and tell him all would be okay, but with his hand restriction it made it impossible.


Sam's grip tightened just a little. Only his truly big brother would say his name like that. And now his big brother was back with him again.

"Unhook me, Sammy."

That was when he realized that Dean was still handcuffed to the chair. Sam let go of his brother and began to take off the handcuffs. Once the last cuff was off, Sam stood up. Dean looked up at his baby brother and stood in front of him.

"Sammy," Dean gripped Sam's shirt. Not hard, but just to keep Sam standing in front of him. "You did it. I'm back." Sam smiled though the tears streamed down his face. "I meant what I said before. I'm proud of us. I'm proud of you. Especially now, since I know that you were lying." Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

Sam put his head down. Dean let go of Sam's shirt with one hand, put it behind Sam's neck and pulled his baby brother into a proper hug. Dean heard the faint sound of 'jerk' being mumbled in his neck. Dean chuckled at that while holding his baby brother in his arms.

He was back, and he had his brother by his side. Now, what force could take him away?


A/N: I really hope you enjoyed my one-shot. Please leave a review and let me know what you think of it! :)

Many hugs and kisses to you all! :)

Mandancie :)

Please follow my Mandancie page on Facebook! :)

Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, mandancie
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