It's ironic, the same life he tried to take a few hours ago is now the life he'd give anything to save. Post 10.03 'Soul Survivor' someone whispers some Enochian and the last trial is over. Hell is closed but Sam is dying.

Chapter I

"Dean!" Sam's voice carried through the men of letters' bunker. "I'm back. Got your food! Are you in your bedroom? Wanna eat there or come to the kitchen?"

Dean sighed, he took one last quick look at the picture in his hand. A much younger version of his brother laughed with a much younger version of himself. Things had been fucked up then, but they still managed to laugh. They hadn't laugh, really laugh, in so long. Hell would do that to you, take away your will to laugh. And... they both had been in hell for what it had felt forever. He missed the time when he could hug his brother and tell him everything was going to be ok. He even missed more the times when he would believe it.

"Maybe it was the fact my mother would still be alive if it wasn't for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life." The words he had spoken earlier echoed like screams had echoed in hell. Torturing him, clenching his heart into tight spams and sucking all the air out of his lungs.

After all the demons and angels had put his brother through, he had said that to Sam. His brother hadn't asked to be Lucifer's vessel! He didn't want any of this, it wasn't his fault. Their mother, the way their father raised them, the horrible things they had seen and done since such an early age. It wasn't on Sammy, he knew that. But he also knew Sam blamed himself, so it had been easy to torture him when he wanted. He didn't mean it. Even as a Demon, he knew they had both been carefully engineered since Cain and Abel to be puppets of the angels. They had lost practically everything, everyone. Dean had been dealt a hard one, but Sam… He had been Michael's vessel and the angels were pricks. But Sam had been Lucifer's and the demons… well, they were demons. Even after throwing himself in the pit, he still felt guilty. He knew Sam specially felt guilty for whatever crappy cards Dean had been dealt.

"Dean? Are you awake?"

And what did his brother do after he just stabbed him in where it hurt the most and then finished it off with a hammer to his head? He went to buy him his favorite food! That's Sammy for you.

"Coming!" He screamed getting out of his bed and walking towards the kitchen.

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"Wow!" He put on his brightest smile as he rummaged through the bags his brother had brought. "Cheese burger, fries, three kinds of pie. What have I done to deserve such a feast?" He teased while his brain explained to him. "I psychologically tortured you and then tried to kill you."

Sam chuckled. Dean was surprised to notice it was an actual happy chuckle, not forced or tragic, actually youngest Winchester turned to get a glass from one of the shelves and opened a bottle of whiskey with his good hand before replying. "I'm just happy that you are here and you are alright, man." He said as he poured a hefty measure of the amber substance. He looked up and gave his brother a quick smile before downing half of the glass in one sip. "Cheers."

Dean had already taken a bite of his cheeseburger. He wasn't all that hungry, but he could pretend for Sammy. In Sam's mind a hungry Dean was a healthy Dean. So Dean made sure to eat whenever Sam looked at him with concerned eyes. "Hmm.. this is amazing!" He wondered if his smile looked as natural as Sam's. But he knew Sam wasn't faking it, he could tell a mile away when Sam faked anything.

Sam drained the rest of his glass in one long glup, scrunching his face when the alcohol hit him. "Ahhh..." He hissed.

"Look man..." He started, he had to say something.

"No Dean," Sam stopped him, pouring himself an even bigger helping now. "We are alive, you are ok, I am ok, we are together and that's all that matters." He took another big sip and looked at Dean with his patented pretty-please-big-brother-that-I-so-much-love-puppy-dog eyes, the stare that Dean had never been able to say no to. "That is all I really care about. That is all I wanted and prayed for in the past few months. The rest," he shook his head and finished his drink, "water under the bridge. It doesn't matter."

An involuntary smile crept on Dean's lip, it felt more natural and relaxed than anything had felt in a long, long time. "You are right, little brother. You and me, together against the world, right?"

Sam smiled, toasting at him with yet another drink in his hand. "Yeeep," his speech slurred just a bit.

Dean couldn't help an amused smile. Sammy was already tipsy.

Sam took another sip. "Sssssaving people, hunting things! Showing those son of a bitchessss that we are no one's puppets! Telling them that they can just ssssuck it!"

Dean laughed, it wasn't a pre-hell laugh, but it was still a laugh and he'd take it.

And of course, just because it was the Winchesters and no laugh lasts, all of a sudden the floor shook. The shelves trembled, pots and pants reverberate and hit against each other, and half of the kitchen crashed to the floor with loud thumps. Dean's years of conditioning kicked in and he ran beside his brother, trying to cover him with his body. Sam had several inches-high and wide- on him so he ducked his head and covered his brother with his good elbow instead.

"Kah-Nuh- Ahm-Dahr" Echoed on the walls "Kah-Nuh- Ahm-Dahr" The enochian continued and they both somehow knew it was an angel talking, or probably just whispering from very far away.

It was Sam that first recognized the line. He swallowed hard. "The trials!" He said.

Dean's eyes opened wide in fear as he looked at his brother's hand that by now had started to glow.

"Aghhh..." Sam screamed in pain, his non glowing hand cradling the lighten one, sweat covered his forehead and he went several shades paler as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

Dean threw himself beside him and cursed. Sam had cured a demon and some freaky angel had known. The trials were over, the gates of hells were closed, and his brother was a dead man.

"Sammy!"

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