Sam was having trouble remembering things. Like Dean. The one thing he thought he would remember for the rest of his life, Dean, but Dean is getting hazy, even though Sam knew he hadn't been here, wherever he was, for long at all. Although he couldn't even be sure of that. Time ran differently here. Morgan saw to that. Made sure that it felt like you had been here forever and for no time at all. It made Sam feel dizzy when he thought about it. Like his brain was trying to scramble itself inside his skull. But Morgan would always appear and sooth with her voice, a voice like honey, smooth and rich and covering Sam. He would try to fight it, try to stay fixed on the image of Dean but Dean would always disappear and Morgan would smile a triumphant smile and leave Sam to his own devices again.
Sam was trying to remember how he came to be back with Dean. He could remember going to Stanford, harsh words being thrown like weapons between him and his father, watching Dean out of the corner of his eyes when Sam told John he was leaving. Watching his brother visibly crumple. He could remember that. He could remember searching for John. Could remember burning John's body. But couldn't remember how they came back together. Memories hung at the back of his mind but try as he might, they were never within his grasp and it scared Sam. The one constant in his life was slipping away like water through his hands. Even simple memories took ages to conjure.
It was when Sam was trying to remember the last time he saw Dean that Morgan appeared in front of him.
“Sammy.” She smiled. Sam couldn't help himself from smiling back as Dean slipped from his mind.
“You look pained Sammy, are you not feeling well?” She asked, snaking her hands under Sam's and pulling him to his feet. Once again, Sam was struck by the girl's strength.
“I was trying to..” Sam started. Morgan took a step forward, her small feet hit Sam's and she leant forward, pressing her chest into Sam's.
“Trying to remember?” She asked. Sam shook his head, and blinked.
“I...uh...can't remember.” He pressed two fingers into a temple and rubbed a small circle into the skin. He hated this. Hated not knowing what was going on, the uncertainty of everything. He thought back to Morgan saying she had waited to play with him for so long. But she had done nothing except talk. Talk to him, coating her words with a sweetness that made Sam want to fall asleep and never wake up.
“It's ok Sammy.” A small flash of irrational anger at her use of the nickname that...Dean gave him pulsed in his mind before her hand fell onto his cheek and he forgot the anger.
“It'll get easier. I promise. Then you and I...we can play. And Sammy, I have been wanting that for so long.” She stood on tiptoes. Sam felt heavy, leaden, like invisible bonds held him down and unable to step away from her, no matter how much he wanted to. “I know what you are Sam. I know what you can become.” She whispered against his mouth. Her breath was hot and sweet and Sam licked his lips.
“Do you want that Sam? Do you want to play with me?” Sam closed his eyes.
“I want...” Dean. “Yes.” Morgan reached out and trailed her hand across Sam's forehead, swiping his unruly hair out of his eyes. The triumphant grin on her face left him feeling cold and empty.
Sam shut his eyes again and when he opened them Morgan was gone.
“Hurry Dean.” He whispered into the empty room.
“So how do we kill this bitch?” Sophie glared at Dean, her childish face wrinkling with the admonishment. He grinned an apology before looking back at Bobby.
“Iron. The Fey are allergic to iron.” Bobby was leaving through a massive tome spread out across his knees. The book, when Bobby had pulled it from the back of his truck and slammed it down on the table in the motel room, had spat out billows of dust from between the pages and had smelt of old books, the heavy mouldy paper smell of the reference sections of libraries that Dean and Sam had spent so many hours. The thought of Sam was like a punch to the gut and Sophie slipped off her chair and hauled herself into his lap, almost as if she sensed his desperation. She snuggled her head into his chest, tucking it under his chin and stuck her thumb into her mouth. Bobby looked wide eyed with a hint of amusement at the desperate look on Dean's face. But instinct took over and Dean wrapped an arm round her and hitched her closer and more securely on his lap.
“You really should take her home Dean.” Bobby suggested. Sophie lifted her head from Dean's shoulder and glared at him.
“No. I want to help Dean get back his Sam.” She stated, still glaring at Bobby. Dean smirked at Bobby over the top of her head.
“I'll take her back when we're done.” He said. Sophie seemed to settle again and stuck her thumb back in her mouth.
“Parents be wondering where she is Dean.” Bobby warned before shutting his mouth firmly at the vehemence in Sophie's eyes.
“Nobody's looking.” She said through a mouthful of thumb. Dean tightened his grip slightly and nodded at the book on Bobby's lap.
“So, any iron, or does it have to be some kinda consecrated holy crap?” He said. Bobby read a couple more line of the text before he answered.
“Just iron. Which is the good news.” Bobby wrinkled his nose and pushed the peak of his trucker cap upwards. Dean froze, his fingers stilling in a particularly stubborn knot in Sophie's hair.
“What's the bad news?” Bobby grimaced slightly and Dean wanted to punch something. Because being constantly on edge since Sam got taken, has taken its toll, its making him jumpy, desperate and aggressive.
“Doesn't kill her. Just makes her weak enough to be...co-operative.” Bobby shrugged a little as he said the word.
“Co-operative?” Dean arched an eyebrow. Sophie shifted on his lap, her breath hot on his neck. Dean stilled himself, not wanting to upset Sophie or to tip her onto the floor by standing up to pace.
“The Fey don't give up their...conquests, without a fight son. You're gonna have to fight for Sam.” Dean looked Bobby straight in the eyes. Bobby seemed to nod, a tiny movement, understanding that Dean would always fight for Sam, no matter what he was fighting, Dean wouldn't just let Sam be taken and not fight. To the death to get him back.
“Conquests? Sam isn't some conquest.” The word made Dean feel sick. Didn't want to imagine what the hell Morgan was doing to his brother. The bitch had no right to touch what was rightfully his. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, he didn't know where the thought that Sam was his kept coming from, and it was disturbing, illicit and made Dean want to kill something. Again with the violence.
“I know that Dean. Morgan evidently feels differently.” Bobby tried to placate him. Dean lifted Sophie up into his arm as he stood. Sophie whined a little but Dean hushed her as placed her down on one of the beds in the motel room.
“Right. So what do we do now?” He asked. Itching for a fight. Because it had been far too long since he had been able to reach out and touch Sam, just to make sure that he was still there. Been far too long since Sam had rolled his eyes in Dean's direction. And goddam it he wanted his brother back.
“We go get Sam back.” Bobby said. And the words coming out of Bobby's mouth made Dean want to hug him.