Disclaimer: Don't own the boys
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"I can't trust you Sam," The words stuck in Dean's throat as he walked away.
The word trust, in the vocabulary of the Winchesters this was defined under: Someone who holds your life in their hands. A word reserved for family or friend who has your back in the tightest of spots. A word with a meaning deeper than just trust.
When it was said it meant more than having your back protected from what came at you from the dark. In the life style such as Dean and Sam's, trust was vital for survival and remaining intact mentally.
Didn't trust him…that was new. Sam's mind was slow to wrap around them. He'd heard them said countless times before, but never towards him and said by his brother. The boy he grew up with, the man he depended on threw thick and thin.
He'd screwed up. He had walked out. He had been the enemy. Sam sighed inwardly to himself. He had brought the world down onto itself, he had brought the end of the world.
Sam didn't feel any emotion. Of coarse he regretted. Of coarse he felt his stomach bottom out at the though. Of coarse he was a whirl wind of angst. And of coarse emotions of sorrow, hatred for himself for his decisions, disappointment, and hopelessness, repeatedly battered against his very soul and swallowed him up and yet insisted on spitting him out.
But Dean was right. There was nothing Sam could do. There was no redemption for the man who brought destruction to the world.