Spoilers/Warnings: Uses a character from 'Home'
Summary: Sam has a choice to make
The motorcycle courier arriving at the door of their motel room, less than an hour after they'd chosen the place at random, was unexpected, but discovering the man had been entrusted with a parcel by Missouri somehow explained the inexplicable.
"How did she…?"
Dean rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Dude, think about what you're saying. Now, open it already and see what she sent us."
Sam dropped onto Dean's bed and slid a hand under the pillow, fingers carefully searching out the razor-sharp hunting knife.
"It's addressed to me, Dean."
Supremely aware of his brother leaning over his shoulder, hot breath gusting across the nape of his neck, Sam sliced away the tape, lifted the lid and blinked.
Dean's phone rang, and Sam's eyes fluttered shut as Dean leaned across him, chest plastered along Sam's back, to snatch the offending article off the bedside table.
Dean stayed pressed against Sam, so that Sam could hear Missouri's voice.
"Hey, Sweetcheeks, put your brother on the line, and don't be messing with anything in that box unless I tell you to."
Pouting, Dean slapped the tiny phone into Sam's open hand and settled in close to 'overhear'.
"Strictly speaking, Sugar, you're not supposed to read for yourself, so you're gonna pick a card and I'll read it for you, okay?"
Sam stared at the battered deck of cards in the bottom of the box and said nothing.
"Sammy? Sweetheart, do what Missouri tells you, hon. Open the pack, shuffle, and pick one. I'll do the rest."
Hardly noticing that Dean had taken the phone from his suddenly unsteady fingers, Sam slid the cards from their frayed cardboard box and shuffled them, the laminated squares feeling slick and somehow alive in his hands.
"Cut them, Sugar, and tell me what you see."
Sam twitched at the sound of Missouri's voice, only then realising that Dean was holding the phone to his ear with one hand while the other was resting on his shoulder. Too close!
He watched, nerveless, as his hands cut the deck, turning up the chosen card.
Missouri sighed in his ear before he had a chance to say a word.
"I thought that might be it." The words were muffled, a thought mistakenly voiced aloud. "You have a choice to make, Sam, a big one. You have to choose between the sacred and the profane. Life or death, him or her, forward or back. It's down to you, Sam. It's time to choose."
Sam stared at the card in his hand, eyes tracing the entwined limbs of the very naked, very male Lovers. The rest of the deck slid from numb fingers as Sam finally saw. And chose.
A turn of his head brought his lips into contact with Dean's. A shared, shuddering breath hung for a second between them before they both groaned and pressed in closer.
Missouri hung up before Dean's cell phone hit the floor. Her part in this was done now.