Blood and Trust
Standard disclaimers apply. This is a sister fic to "Better Left Unsaid." It's not necessary to have read that to read this one.
Dean circled the heavy boxing bag slowly. It wasn't often he felt the need for any extra physical activity, but this was the only way to clear his head, and his thought had reached critical mass. The first punch hit the bag, the smack of his knuckles against the canvas echoed in the empty hall. He tested its weight once more. He got a rhythm going and the thoughts started seeping into his consciousness.
After everything they had been through, everything they'd fought together for…
Punch after punch, his anger swelled. How could Sam be so stupid? How could he let himself get used like that? How could Sam let him down when he needed Sam the most? How could Sam betray him like that?
Dean hit harder, not feeling the sting against his skin. He would regret the choice of not taping up later, but for now, it was a nice outlet for his emotion. The sting resonated straight through his bones.
Family should mean something. Family meant that when you need help, you got it. It meant never choosing a DEMON over your own brother. It should mean you should never have to apologize for being so wrong, because where family was involved, there should never even be a choice!
Flecks of blood spattered on the canvas, but Dean didn't notice. His hits had become fierce and he grunted with each strike of his fist.
Dean would never be okay with what Sam had done. How could Sam think an apology was just going to make it all go away? That after everything he had done for Sam, saying sorry was going to cut it?
Pictures of all the sacrifices he had made for Sam over the years passed through his mind. All of the meals he made, all of the things he had taught him as the older brother, even all of the times he had come to Sam's aide. He would have done ANYTHING for Sam. He would have done anything to keep him safe, help him be happy. Maybe he didn't always know the best way to make that happen, but at least he'd always had his best interests at heart!
Dean yelled with his hardest punch yet, and the bag surged back, violently testing the steel tethers holding it to the ceiling.
He'd given his very soul to save his brother's, and this was how Sam repaid him? True, if the roles had been reversed, he would have been furious. He imagined as bad as it was with his father, it could only have been worse if Sammy had made the deal, instead. He'd practically raised Sam. He never even considered accepting Sam's death for one second. Even as Sam betrayed him, he couldn't bring himself to regret his decision to bring Sammy back.
Dean's fury was starting to cool and though he was numb to the pain, he could tell that his knuckles were tattered too much to continue for much longer. Flecks of blood had become large drops that soaked into his shirt and we starting to gather on the ground around him.
He couldn't imagine what it would be like trying to carry on without Sam, he didn't want to think about it. He suddenly realized how grateful he was that he was able to make that deal. He didn't know what he would have done if the option hadn't be there.
For the first time he wondered what it must have been like for Sam, trying to carry on alone without a choice, thinking that he was a freak. Dean had always thought Sam was the level-headed survivor, the one that could do it alone and find something to live for. If it had been him… Dean dropped his fists and stilled the bag. He laid his forehead against it, trying to push back the thoughts he knew he couldn't fight any longer.
His choice… to give his soul for Sammy's life had been a sacrifice, true. But it had been selfish. Probably the most selfish decision he wish he'd never had to make. As much as he wanted to believe he did it for Sam, he couldn't hide from that voice that screamed inside his head now. He had done it because he couldn't live in a world where his brother didn't. He couldn't continue on by himself, he wasn't strong enough. He wasn't strong enough to endure burying his brother. His blood.
Maybe, he thought sadly, maybe Sammy wasn't strong enough, either. The truth he'd been running from all this time had finally caught up to him. Of all the things Sam had been through that led him to betray Dean, the one thing that mattered the most was the one thing Dean was responsible for.
A tear spilled over his cheek, and he stood up, knowing what he had to do.
~*~
"Dean! What happened? Why didn't you call? I could have helped you!" Sam was on his feet the second he caught the sight of blood on Dean's shirt.
He instantly regretted his decision not to bring a change of clothes to the gym. "Sit down Sam, I wasn't on a hunt."
"Dean, what happened to your knuckles, then?" Sam sat, but he stayed on the edge of the seat.
The look of concern in Sam's eyes renewed Dean's conviction, but also his sadness. Dean looked at his knuckles and took the sight in. He'd stopped the bleeding before he'd left, but he hadn't really thought about how bad they looked. "Boxing," he said with a small smile and a scoff.
"What did you box? Barbed wire?" The snark didn't extend to his tone.
"Listen, Sam, we have to talk," Dean pulled a chair up next to Sam's.
"Sure, what's going on?"
Dean looked down at his knuckles again and steeled himself. "I have some things to say, and I want you to let me finish, no matter what I say. Can you promise me that?"
"I…" Sam started with some trepidation, but resignedly, he said "yes, I can do that."
"Can do what?"
"I can promise," Sam said impatiently, not wanting to put off whatever fresh torture was coming.
"Can promise what?"
"Dean, I promise I'll let you finish without interrupting."
"Good. Now listen, I've been thinking and thinking about us and how thoroughly you betrayed me. And how the trust is gone."
Sam hung his head, but didn't say a word.
"And I was thinking about how I went to hell to keep you here, to keep fighting for the good guys."
Sam swallowed and his eyes glistened with shame. He nodded, and bit his lip, knowing that he deserved this. He was glad his head was down. He didn't want Dean to see how badly he felt, he knew he needed to hear everything that Dean needed to say no matter how deep it cut.
"And then I thought about how I left you alone. I thought about how I forced you to do what I could not do."
Sam looked up, confused.
Dean's voice softened a bit. "When I left you, I left you with no choice but to carry on alone. I left you to stay here in this world, the only one of our family left and knowing that you were the only one in the family that couldn't make a deal to change that. Sam, when you died," Dean's voice broke, so he took a second, swallowed and continued. "When you… I couldn't do what you did. I don't know what I would have done if I couldn't have made that deal."
Dean looked Sam directly in the eyes. "Sammy, I never once regretted what I did to save your life. In spite of everything, I would never take that back. And I hope to God I never know what I put you through for it." Another tear slid down Dean's cheek, and he swiped at it. "In my darkest of dreams, I can't picture doing what I made you do alone. And I guess I can never pretend to know what you went through because I won't let myself try to imagine it. I'm so sorry, Sammy."
Sam didn't realize he was crying too, until a tear wet his arm.
"Sammy, we're brothers. You're the only family I have left, and I will be DAMNED, if we don't find a way to rely on each other again. I'm sure I don't know what the future has in store for us, but I know that if we don't remember what it means to be family again, I'm sure we'll fall. And I never want to imagine losing you again, especially to that son-of-a-bitch Lucifer."
Dean took a knife out of his jacket. He examined the blade for a moment.
"Blood, Sam. Blood is where it started," he looked at Sam.
Sam's eyes were set, understanding.
Dean slit open his left palm with the knife. Sam took the knife and mirrored the gesture.
"And blood is where it will end," Sam said, taking Dean's hand firmly, blood and tears mixing.
"No more secrets," Dean asked, searching Sam's eyes.
"Never. No more secrets," Sam said, feeling lighter than he had for years.
"I don't know about you, but I am really sick of people talking about our destinies as if they're set in stone," Dean said, as airily as he could manage, with a cautious smile.
"Tell me about it. Clearly, they underestimate the Winchester family," Sam said with a laugh.
"Damn straight," he slammed his right hand on Sam's shoulder. "Damn straight, brother."
A/n: Thanks so much for reading! I started this as a companion fic to Sam's feelings in "Better Left Unsaid." I was listening to Adema's song "Trust" and I know it's about a different kind of relationship, but it really hit a lot of brotherly trust issues, too. I don't know about anyone else, but it really, really bugs me when Sam and Dean hurt each other. I am sick to death of the blame and the hurt, and I don't think they'll ever be able to divert the apocalypse if they don't support each other. And personally, nothing kills me more than watching them spiral in distrust and this "can't avoid your destiny" crap. So… yeah, I hope this temporarily helps mend your hearts for a bit, too. And if you need to cheer up with something ridiculous, you can read Unlikely Evil, my crack-fic. Shameless plugging over. =)