They both knew it was impossible. Killing the devil? Trapping the son-of-a-bitch in the cage that Sam had unknowingly released him from? No way.
Dean knew their number was up long before Sam was willing to admit it to himself. They couldn't make all the pieces of their plan fall together, stay away from angels, and evade the demons and Lucifer and get away unscathed. Not in a few short days.
But Sam…good ol' Sammy wasn't about to give up. Dean knew that he was only being so brave, so strong because he felt like he owed it to his big brother.
What Sam didn't know or refused to see is that Dean had already forgiven him. Yeah, sure Dean was hurt because Sam chose a demon over him but with all that Sam's life had been—surrounded by the evil bastards since the word "go," it had to happen sometime. Dean understood.
Still Sam kept going, providing the energy that they all needed to keep up the fight. Team Free Will and all that. But Dean had to stop and think—what chance did two brothers (one that had been to hell literally and the other who had been forced to live hell on earth), an old drunk and a fallen angel stand against the powers of heaven and hell?
Sam seemed to think they stood at least a snowball's chance and that was enough for Dean. So they suited up. Lock 'n load. All that clichéd bullshit that Dean repeated to himself over and over in his head to distract himself from what would happen in the days to come. Things that would distract him from the fact that Sam was going to say yes. He had to find something stronger, namely a bottle of whiskey, to help him forget even for a second that Sam was going to jump into that pit.
He couldn't deal with that. He'd done everything he could to protect Sam. And not just from angels and the devil and the apocalypse that was around them now, but from the ghosts, wendigos, vampires and every other hell-bitch that came their way. And even before Sam was old enough to hunt or to understand what hunting was, it had been Dean's job to protect him from scraped knees and bullies who picked on Sam for being the nerd that he's always been. Sam had always been Dean's responsibility and now Dean was supposed to watch him die…again…this time for good.
Dean pushes the bottle away from him, his buzz gone with that one single thought. He knew no about of avoiding the future or thinking about it before it happened would make it change. Within the week, his baby brother would be gone and there wasn't a goddamn thing he could do about it.
Dean Winchester knew what he had to do. He knew the endgame for this apocalypse thing and he knew what he had to do to get there. But there was something else he had to do. Something that was far more important. Something he could and would do right that very minute.
He walked to the edge of his little brother's bed and slowly sat himself down on the edge. Sam was successfully squeezing in a few hours of shut-eye, much to Dean's surprise. That didn't bother Dean though. Sam didn't really need to be awake just then. Dean had every intention of being there when the over-grown man awoke the next morning or in a few hours, whatever the case may be.
Dean lay down behind Sam and gently pulled the younger man close, not even caring what Sam might say if he woke up right then. Their relationship had always been secretive and normally Dean wouldn't have risked something like that when someone could easily interrupt them. But this was Sam and Dean would be damned again if he wasn't going to show his brother he loved him right before everything went to hell, quite literally.
He fell asleep like that. Just holding the only person in the world that he still believed in. Because he did—believe in Sam, that is. He loved him and would follow the boy to the ends of the earth, if Sam asked him to.
He woke to a Sam's oversized fingers running through his hair.
"That was kinda stupid, man" Sam half-whispers, running the pad of his thumb over Dean's cheek. It took Dean a minute to figure out what the fuck Sammy was talking about.
"Oh…well, I wasn't gonna sit there and watch you sleep like a creep, was I?" Dean retaliates playfully. He knows that he and Sam are both just trying to act like everything is normal. Like the world isn't about to end. "Besides…I don't know how many more times I'll get to do that. How many times I'll just get to hold you…ya know?" Dean adds as he sits up and swings his feet off the side of the bed.
He almost can't stand to look at Sam just then. He feels the real weight of what's going to happen finally hit him and he wants nothing more than to cry. But he can't cry. He can't sob like a bitch when it's his brother that's walking bravely to his own end. No, Dean's gonna tough this one out, for Sam.
The older Winchester might have been attempting to hide his sorrow from Sam but they were brothers and after all the time they'd spent together, Sam knew exactly what was going on inside Dean's mind. He grabbed Dean by the shoulder and gently leans him back so his head is sitting in Sam's lap.
"Come on…stop what you're thinking, right now, Dean. Don't think about what's gonna happen soon or what's happened before. Fuck all of it. The demons, the monsters, the angels, destiny. Fuck it all. Right now, let's just be us. Just be here." Sam cradled Dean's head and bent down to gently kiss his brother. "Well…let's be us until Bobby runs in here with some more bad news. Okay?"
"Okay Sammy…whatever you want." Dean settled back into his position next to Sam and they stayed like that until they heard Bobby shout something at them about them being "idjits" and getting their lazy asses down there.
And that was fine with Dean. That short break from the hell around them was all he needed. That moment with Sam was all he needed to fight those sons of bitches with a brave face. Because he and Sam were themselves, no matter what. They loved each other more than anyone would ever understand.
He knew he could go on, if not for himself, then for the brat that he had taken care of for as long as he could remember. He could do it for his Sammy.