Season Four AU. Warning: Major character death.
In the end, it's always Sam.
Sam, dripping blood, in the middle of it all, surrounded by dead hunters and bodies of nameless people who'd been possessed one way or the other. Some of them had been angels, some of them demons. Now, they're dead.
Sam doesn't give a fucking shit. He's on his knees, jeans soaked through with mud, rain, and blood, arms wrapped around Dean and refusing to let go. His eyes are still open, staring blankly up at nothing. His body is so still and cold.
Sam is shaking and can't seem to stop. His doesn't realize he's crying until he tastes salt as well as copper in his mouth. And then he just presses his face into Dean's chest and falls apart.
Dean is gone.
Dean is gone again and, just like the last time, it's Sam's fault. Only this time, it really was by Sam's hand.
He killed his brother. He killed Dean. Dean, who never gave up on him, who raised him and kept him safe, who taught him how to shoot a gun and pick up a chick, who always sacrificed everything he had for him. Sam had killed him without even batting an eye.
He'd been so angry, so desperate. The demon blood in him had only been fueling that fury. And then there was Dean, trying to control him and order him around like he was a kid. Sam had lashed out and now Dean was dead in Sam's arms.
He'd give anything, anything, to take it all back. He's sell his soul a million times over, but Sam's pretty sure he doesn't have a soul anymore.
"Cas," he cries out, "Cas, I'm sorry! Bring him back. Please, just. Bring him back. I need him."
Castiel appears when he's called. His eyes are sad as he looks around, first at his fallen brethren and then to Dean. "The Lord gave humans free will. He gave you all Choice. Dean chose, you chose. Now, you must accept that."
"I'll do anything if you please just bring him back. He saved the fucking world for you, didn't he?"
Dean had, in the end, done just that. Sam had completely lost himself, killing anything and everything around him. Demons, angels, humans. It hadn't mattered. Nothing had breached his hard, blood-crazed shell of hatred. Until Dean had dropped like a stone.
Somewhere in there is my brother Sammy. And I'm not giving up on him.
"Please." Sam begged, voice cracking and breaking.
Castiel knelt down next to Sam, his clothes, that stupid white overcoat, instantly soaking through with blood and mud. He reached out, gently closing Dean's eyes, and then looked Sam in the eye. "I'm sorry."