Sammy's bitter musings – spoilers for 'no rest for the wicked' - slight implied wincest. I don't own =(
You see it in his eyes. His emeraldjadegrassgreen eyes. Terror. Unadulterated and limitless. And you lie to yourself. You tell yourself that it's fear for you. For what will happen to his baby boy when he's gone. You force feed yourself sugar coated poison, so bittersweet that it chokes you, but you force it down. Because it's telling you that it's not your fault (but it is). That it was his own decision, his own sacrifice (but what choice did he have?). That you couldn't have done anything to stop it (but you'd tried, God help you, you'd tried). But try as you might, it takes a real expert to believe the lies your own mind tells you. So you think about the truth instead. How everyone believes that the Winchesters are in love. Not just brotherly or platonic or even sexual. It's a 'you're more myself than I am' love. It's an 'I need you like I need air to breathe' love. It's an 'I'd do anything for you' love. 'I'd even die for you'. You cringe as you think those words too loudly in your mind. Almost as if he might hear them over the deafening silence and the snarling in his head. You shy away from those words because, despite what everyone thinks, they are not a proclamation of an everlastingneverdying love. No. Because they are selfish. The bond that you share, as brothers, as lovers, as best friends, as partners in crime, as soulmates, as colleagues, as hunters – it's all that, and it's so much more. And knowing what you know is terrible. You know that he did this – he sacrificed himself – but not for you. That would've been bad enough. But no. he did it out of pure and absolute selfishness. Because he couldn't live without you. So he did the most selfish thing he could've done. He'd sentenced you to an eternity without him. You almost want to hate him for that. Screw that, you do hate him for that. Because now you have to live; you have to let him die; he has to die knowing that you loved him more. Your love was the purest, most altruistic love there ever was. What you never told him was that when you'd threatened the crossroads demon, she'd offered you a deal. Your soul in exchange for his. But you could never be that selfish.
You see it in his eyes. His emeraldjadegrassgreen eyes. Terror. Unadulterated and limitless. And you know that it's not fear for how his baby boy will cope alone. No. It's a selfish fear. A fear for his own life. A fear of the Hell hounds at the door. A fear of what unimaginable tortures will await him in Hell. So you watch, face impassive, as those hounds of Hell rip him to shreds. And, sure, you cry. Oh Hell, you cry an ocean for him. But you can't comprehend how he could've been so selfish. And you can't stop yourself from thinking: maybe he deserved to go to Hell.
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