...Mightier Than the Sword
A Fan Fiction Archive
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Only for fun not for profit. I only wish I owned them
“Sam, Sam, Sammy,” Sam felt a slap across the leg. “C’mon kid, get up. Get up, we got work to do, Sammy.”

“Ugh,” Sam groaned, “all right, all right, I’m up.” Sam sat up groggily in bed and wiped at his eyes. As he moved to get out of bed, he looked over at his brother, shock colored his face, “What the hell, Dean?”
“Sam, we need to talk,” Dean began.

“Yeah, I’ll say. What’s going on? What happened to you? Did Cas do this to you? Zacariah?” Sam tried not to raise his voice but he was fighting the urge to freak out as he looked at his brother who looked the same as he did when he was twelve.

Dean, twelve year old Dean, smiled an shook his head. “No, Sam. Not Castiel or Zacaraih.” He looked around the room. “Don’t you remember this place?”

Sam looked around, “No, not really.” He attempted to pay more attention to the room but it didn’t strike a chord with him. All he knew was that it wasn’t the room he fell asleep in. “Why are you twelve?”

Dean looked up at him, “Good you remember that much. Check this out.” Dean reached for the black cord that hung around his neck and pulled the glowing amulet out from under his shirt.

“Dean, it’s, it’s glowing,” Sam said in awe. “Cas said,” Sam sat up and looked around the room. “Dean, Cas said that it glows in God’s presence.” Sam looked into his brother’s eyes, “Did God do this to you?”

Dean laughed softly, “Getting warmer, Sammy.”

Dean sat in a camp chair at the end of the pier; tackle box at his feet, fishing pole in one hand, beer in the other. It was a sunny, but brisk autumn day. The lake was calm, reflecting the beauty of the changing leaves.

“Beautiful place you have here, Dean,” said a soft voice to his right.

“Thanks,” Dean grumbled. He looked down and saw a glow coming from his chest. “I can’t really take credit for it. You made it, didn’t You?”

A soft chuckle came from his guest, “Well, they do call it God’s country.”

That brought a small laugh from Dean. “Can’t believe You quote beer commercials. I’m dreaming though, right? I’m not at this lake at all, am I?”

“Yes, you’re dreaming. That’s how I usually work. Appear in dreams. But you and Castiel had an ‘urgent need’ to find Me, so I made an exception,” God leaned over the water.

Startled, Dean nearly shouted, “Hey, You’re not --”

“The kindergarten teacher? No, not this time,” God leaned back and looked up at Dean. “I choose her because she was the least threatening to Castiel. And because she was sure to get your attention.” The person before him smiled. “More often I would appear like this.” The woman before Dean suddenly transformed into his near mirror image, only better; younger, no scars, no wrinkles, clear green eyes. “This appeals to all who take ‘you were created in my image’ literally.” God turned from Dean, “But you’ve seen this form as a demon and you no longer trust it so I’ve had to choose someone else.” God morphed again.

“So, Layla?”

“Yes, Layla was a person you associated with goodness and you trusted her.” God looked across the lake. “And you seem to like women better than men.”

Dean nodded, then, “Wait, ‘was’? Layla’s dead?”

“Yes, I’m sorry Dean, she died from the tumor about ten months after you saw her.

Dean felt the anger rise in him, “Why?! Why did you let her die? She should have been saved by LaGrange instead of me.”

God put up a hand, “Dean, if you weren’t saved, you and Sam would have never investigated Mrs. La Grange. She needed to be stopped.” Her head tilted and She studied Dean, “I’m so sorry you feel such guilt over Layla’s death. You couldn’t have prevented it. There is no cure for the cancer Layla had. Her suffering is over.”

“Her life is over,” Dean said bitterly.

“God? You’re God?” Sam’s brow was knit in confusion. “I thought you were Michael’s vessel. Now you’re God’s vessel?”

“Oh , Sammy, think how Dean would love to hear you say he’s God,” this version of his brother laughed. “No, Sam, Dean is not My vessel. I don’t require a vessel.” However, Sam was not convinced as he looked at his brother’s younger form laughing in front of him. “I mean that’s just what Dean needs to feed his ego. What is it you said about him? He thinks he’s My gift to women?” He laughed some more.

“Um, well, what is this then?”

God nodded, but continued to smile, “I am who I am, and this,” He said as He pointed to Himself as twelve year old Dean, “is the only person I know you trust, completely, no questions asked.”

Dean looked away from the form in front of him.

“Most people feel better after unloading their anger on Me, yet you still feel guilt,” Layla sighed. She put Her hand on Dean’s knee and pushed Herself up. An immediate sense of relief flooded Dean. “I want to thank you for bringing Sam back in. He needs you more than you know.”

Dean looked at Her in doubt. “Sam’s strong, he doesn’t really need me. I only wanted to change what I saw in 2014 and that was the only think I could think of.”

Layla laughed softly at him. “Even you don’t really believe that.” She opened the tackle box at Dean’s feet. “Sam needs you, needs you to trust him again, though I know that trust is something earned. Which is why I trust you. You have been tested so many times and you always prove worthy.” As She spoke, She tied a hook onto a line and lowered it into the water. “Haven’t done this in ages,” She sighed happily and looked up a Dean for a moment and saw him smiling.

“So, what’s the deal with You being a Woman?”

“What’s wrong with women? I thought you rather liked them?” Layla teased.

“Oh, I do,” Dean said hurriedly. “It’s just that, God is, well You are usually called Father or other guy names.”

“I am whatever I am needed to be,” She answered. “But, I ask that you have faith in Me, trust in Me. So,” She pulled in a fish, “I appear to you as someone you trusted.” She stood, threw the fish back in the lake, and watched it swim away. Then she looked around smiling, “This is a nice place you have here, Dean.”

“Remember, Sam? Remember when you were eight and did everything Dean told you to do? Remember trusting him that much?” Sam looked into the eyes of the Boy in front of him and all the emotions of the past came rushing forward. Sam felt like a frightened eight year old again.

Sam’s voice croaked, “Yeah.”

“Can you trust him again?” The look on the twelve year old Dean was so serious, that Sam was afraid, he didn’t remember seeing that look before. Then Dean rolled his eyes, now that was a familiar expression. “Sammy,” the Boy sighed, “You’re right serious Dean didn’t make too many appearances in your presence, but he existed all the same.”

“How do I know you’re not --”

“Sam, even a demon can’t make this thing glow, only I can.” He held up the amulet. “Can’t imagine why Singer gave it to you; though I am glad you gave it to Dean.”

Sam took a minute and looked around the room again. “Nebraska? This the hotel from that Christmas in Nebraska?”

Dean smiled, “Yep, Dean told you the truth that night and you believed him because he was your brother and kept you safe. He even tried to convince you of your dad’s invincibility.”

Sam smiled sadly and sighed, “I never understood his blind faith --”

“Blind faith, that’s pretty much what I’m asking for. Can you have faith in Me?” Sam studied the Dean before him. Faith in Dean or faith in God?

In the morning, Dean woke feeling better than he had in ages. As he stretched he no longer felt kinks in his neck or back. “Sam, Sam, Sammy,” Dean slapped Sam across the leg. “C’mon kid, get up. Get up, we got work to do.”

Sam sat up groggily wiping his eyes. “Whatever you say, Dean.”

Dean looked at his brother in astonishment. “Whatever I say? Sam, this job was your idea. You’re calling the shots.” He walked over to the bathroom. “But the day’s a wastin’. Make yourself useful and make me some coffee. Then you can tell me why you wanted to go to the Snake River.”

Sam smiled as he shook his head. Only Dean could put him in charge and boss him around at the same time.

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