Summary; Coda to season 2 episode "Heart." The parallels that can sometimes be drawn between actions and possibilities.

Disclaimer: I don't own squat.. but a girl can dream, right?

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Resolve

Dean leaned back, his hands gripping the countertop, his knees suddenly too weak to support him. His chest was tight, a vise tightening down until it was almost impossible to breathe. God, Sammy….

The sound of the gunshot still echoed in his ears, loud and painful in the small apartment. His eyes, burning with the empathy for Sam's decision, were glued to the doorway his brother had disappeared through only moments ago. The look of raw pain and grief on his brother's face was something he'd hoped he'd never see there again. It was the same look he had worn as they watched their father burn. It had almost killed Dean to see it then, just as it threatened to rip out his heart now.

His whole life, the most important thing had been for him to keep his brother safe. To keep Sammy from feeling the kind of pain he was feeling all to often. He was doing a bang up job, huh? Couldn't save his brother from any of this. Let him get close to her – hell he had practically pushed them together, thinking it was about time he got past Jessica and the pain of her death. Maybe, he had hoped, Madison would be able to get him through it. And she had. And now, he had to kill her.

When was life gonna give them a fucking break?

A more practical part of his brain spurred him to movement. Sam had asked him to wait in the kitchen, but someone had to have heard the gunshot. These walls weren't exactly soundproof, and even in a city the size of San Francisco, the sound of gunfire would be something that was noticed. The cops would be on their way. They had to go.

His legs still felt like jello, but he forced himself forward, slowing as he turned the corner into the living room. He didn't think the vice in his chest could get any tighter, but the sight before him proved him wrong.

Sam was kneeling on the floor, Madison's body cradled in his arms. His head was bowed over hers, his shoulder's shaking with his quiet sobs.

"Damnit," Dean breathed, wiping a weary hand over his face. God he was tired. His eyes noticed the silver gun lying on the floor by Sam's leg and he approached quietly, deftly reaching for the weapon. He held the familiar weight in his hand, unconsciously fingering the trigger, replacing Sam's prints with his own just in case. He could already hear the faint sirens as they responded to the calls, if they didn't make it out, well… he was already wanted for murder. He could at least spare Sam that.

He flipped the safety on and stowed the gun in his belt before laying a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder. His voice was soft, but urgent. "Sam, we gotta go."

Sam nodded and slowly lowered Madison's body to the floor. Dean was relieved to see her eyes were closed. She looked like she was simply asleep as his brother gently lay her down, her dark hair fanning around her still face. Sam looked to his right for the gun, instead finding his brothers hand reaching out in an offer of support. Reaching his own hand up, he allowed Dean to pull him from his knees and, with one last look at the woman he had let briefly into his heart, turned and followed his brother from the building.

The radio hummed quietly, neither brother bothering to turn the music up to a normal level as the Impala rolled down the dark highway. They had made a quick stop back at the motel to gather their things, and then hit the road, blending into the southbound traffic.

Neither of them had said a word. What was there to say? Sam was what he could only describe as numb. He knew he should be feeling guilty. He'd just killed a person. A real person who had just begun to mean something to him. He should feel a lot of things: guilt, despair, grief.. but he felt nothing. He could feel Dean's eyes on him. He knew his brother was concerned. But he couldn't find it in himself to really care.

That wasn't really true. He did care. He knew what he had done was necessary. He knew it was what Maddy had wanted. He understood her in a way that Dean never could. She didn't want to hurt anyone. She didn't want to be a monster. He got that. He felt the same way. He understood her and maybe that was why he had been able to do something he would have never in his wildest nightmares consider himself capable of doing.

But Dean couldn't understand. And Dean was in the exact same position. And knowing his brother was facing the same kind of pain was something he did care about.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

Dean tore his eyes from the road long enough to frown at his brother. "For what?"

Sam took a deep breath and it hitched in his throat. He had no idea if he could explain this to Dean, but he had to try. "I never… I realize it's not…" He ran a frustrated hand over his face and tried to get his jumbled thoughts in order. "I know I only knew Madison for a few days, but I really did want to save her. I really felt –"

"I know, Sam."

Sam shook his head at his brother's voice and turned in his seat so that he could see Dean's face illuminated from the dashboard lights. "No, Dean. Please. Let me say this. I cared about her, A lot. And what she asked me to do… man, it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I don't… I know it's not nearly the same, but I think I can kind of understand how hard this has all been for you. What Dad told you, what I made you promise…"

"Sam…"

"Dean, I'm sorry. I know what it felt like to pull the trigger. I know how I'm feeling right now, and I can only imagine what it would feel like to you if…" Sam sighed and turned back towards the window. He knew he wasn;t saying this right. He knew it was all coming out wrong. "But, I am gonna hold you to that promise, Dean. I have to."

"Sammy…" Dean's voice was soft, like he didn't have enough breath to speak and Sam quickly turned toward him,

"I know," he fought the tears that threatened to fall. "I know how hard this is gonna be for you –"

"No, you don't."

Sam held on as Dean pulled the wheel to the right, cutting off an SUV as he guided the Impala down an off ramp. He pulled onto a side road, eased the car to the shoulder and cut the engine. Without a word, Dean opened the door and stepped out onto the asphalt, slamming the door behind him.

Sam jumped at the sound. He watched in confusion as Dean took a few steps away from the car, bathed in the yellow beams from the headlights. Dean had his back to the Impala, but Sam could tell he had wrapped his arms around himself and he didn't think it was from the slight chill in the early spring air.

He sighed. Damn. He had only wanted to let Dean know that he understood.

Dean hadn't been able to kill him when he had been possessed by the demon. No matter what the damn thing had made him do, Dean hadn't been able to pull the trigger. He now understood how hard that had been on his brother. Knowing what he would have to eventually do was killing his brother. That was partly why Sam had needed to be the one to kill Madison.

She was a werewolf. They couldn't let her live. He knew that. He also knew that she was someone he had connected with, maybe even someone he could have loved. But her fate was sealed before they had even met. What they had shared had been wonderful, but it was only one night. He cared about her, he hated himself for what he had had to do. He would have given anything to give in and allow Dean to end it. Like his brother needed one more soul on his conscience. But, he had no doubt, that even though it would have killed Dean to do it, he would have done it to spare Sam this pain.

It had been Sam's choice. Partly, because it was what Madison wanted, but, partly because he had asked the same from Dean. And how could he expect his brother to carry out his promise if Sam couldn't do it himself?

Slowly he opened the door and climbed out of the car. The sounds of the vehicles back up on the highway hummed behind them, blending with the wind blowing softly through the trees of the wooded area to their right. He approached his brother, stopping as he rounded the front of the Impala. He thrust his hands into his packets and leaned back against the still warm hood of the car.

"Dean…"

Sam watched as Dean shook his head slowly, wincing at the broken sound of his brother's voice. "You don't get it, Sam. I know you felt something for her. And I know it sucked. I get that. But, you knew her for, what? Three days? You wanted to help her, save her. I hear ya, man. I live with that every single day." He turned and Sam could make out the tears shining in his eyes. "But it's not the same. You and Dad… you made me make a promise that I can't keep. You asked me to kill my own brother."

Sam looked down at the ground, no longer able to meet his brother's eyes.

"Damnit, Sammy, I practically raised you. I've spent my whole life protecting you, keeping you safe. And now… now you tell me I have to kill you? How can you ask that of me? How could he?"

Sam took a shaking breath. Dean was right. What he'd done for Madison, a woman he'd barely begun to know, didn't really compare with what they had demanded from Dean.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"No you're not. Neither was Dad. I don't blame you, Sammy. I don't blame either of you. But… you gotta understand, if it comes to that. If I do have to kill you…" his voice trailed off until Sam raised his eyes, once again meeting his brothers. "If I do have to kill you, I'm right behind you little brother."

Sam shook his head, his heart clenching at the thought of Dean taking his own life. "No, Dean," he whispered, not even trying to stop the tears from streaming down his face. "You can't. Please. If you die, the Demon wins."

Dean laughed, but there was no humor in it. The side of his mouth curled up in a sad smile as he stepped toward his brother, closing the distance between them in a few steps. "If it comes to that, Sam, it won't matter. If I'm forced to kill you, the demon would have already won."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. Dean was right. There was no way he could let the Demon win. Maybe it didn't have to happen that way. Maybe Dean had been right all along. Maybe there was a way for them to beat it. He nodded as his resolve steeled itself for the fight.

"Then we make sure it doesn't come to that." Sam's voice was soft, but there was a new confidence. They could beat it. They were John Winchester's sons. They didn't give up and they sure as hell didn't lose.

"Damn straight."

End