Summary: Coda to WIAWSNB. If every dark cloud has a silver lining, maybe the dark clouds are worth it.

Disclaimer: Not mine… but I have a plan.

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Worth It

"But it wasn't real, Dean."

Dean nodded slightly. "I know." He leaned back against the table and raised his head, a look of devastation on his face. "But I wanted to stay." His eyes briefly met Sam's, but closed as his voice softened in the admission. "I wanted to stay so bad."

Sam swallowed at the desperate tone in his brother's voice. Dean sounded so lost – so un-Dean like, that Sam wasn't sure how to respond.

"Ever since Dad," Dean's eyes lost their focus as his mind recalled the pain of the last few months, his voice betraying him as he continued. "All I – all I can think about is how much this job has cost us. We've lost so much. We've… sacrificed so much."

"All those people are alive because of you." Sam needed to get through to his brother. He had never in his life known Dean to give up and he couldn't bear to see even a hint of defeat in his brother's eyes. "It's worth it, Dean. And it's not fair, and I know it hurts like hell, but it's worth it."

When Dean raised his eyes, there was still enough pain in them to tear a hole in Sam's heart. Dean had told him some of what had happened in his wish world, but it was obvious that he had wanted to live in that reality, even when he discovered it wasn't reality at all. He nodded slowly.

"I hear ya, Sammy. It's just…" his voice broke and he just shook his head, lowering it until Sam could no longer see his face.

Sighing softly, Sam rose from the bed and quietly took the two strides to his brother. He placed a hand around the back of Dean's bowed neck and squeezed gently.

"It's worth it, Dean."

"I know." Dean slowly lifted his head, not even trying to hide the moisture in his eyes. He raised one side of his mouth in a feeble attempt at a grin and Sam gave his neck another squeeze before dropping his hand, thankful for his brother's effort.

"I just," Dean's voice broke again and he coughed before taking a shaky breath, clearly trying to control his emotions. His eyes flicked to Sam's for a moment, before closing tightly, forcing one tear drop to fall onto his cheek. "I'm just so damned tired, Sammy."

Sam wasn't sure if Dean was referring to his current condition or his over-all view of their screwed up life. Either way, he could tell his big brother was at his breaking point. That was something he'd thought he'd never witness and it scared the hell out of him.

For the moment, Sam decided to go with the former. Dean had been through hell, emotionally and physically after his altercation with the djinn, and, truth be told, he really did look like shit.

He nodded and patted his brother's shoulder. "You should get some rest."

Sam was scared before, but Dean's reaction to his suggestion made his heart stop.

"Dean?"

Dean's skin had paled at Sam's words and his breathing suddenly became eratic. The worst part was the look of sheer panic on his face. Dean's hazel eyes shifted, looking from Sam to some point beyond him then focused inward as his breathing became increasingly harsh. Sam tightened his grip on his brother's arm as Dean began to sway, sweat beginning to bead on his pale skin.

Grabbing him around the waist, Sam quickly maneuvered his brother toward the bed and forced him down on the edge seconds before his knees gave out. He wasn't sure what scared him more; the fact that Dean was allowing himself to be manhandled without even token resistance, or the distant, empty look in his brother's normally expressive eyes.

Squatting down in front of the older man, Sam ducked his head in an attempt to make eye contact. "Dean?" He reached up and placed a hand against his brother's neck, trying to avoid the painful red welt where the djinn's needle had plunged into Dean's vein. Dean's skin was cold, and Sam's concern notched up a bit. "Dean? Come on, man, you're kinda freaking me out here. Dean?"

Sam held his breath, only letting it out when Deans's eyes slowly made their way to his face in an eerily similar repeat of the scene in the warehouse. The familiar hazel orbs slowly regained their focus and he blinked, finally noticing his brother's concerned form kneeling in front of him. "Sam?"

Dean's voice was barely a whisper and he had to clear his throat before continuing. He seemed to suddenly notice he had changed locations, his brows scrunching in confusion. "What…"

Sam sighed in relief and finally allowed himself to take a deep breath. "Dean? You with me?"

"Huh? Yeah." Dean came back to himself quickly and Sam lowered his hand to his brother's knee, his dark eyes still studying Dean's face. "What happened?"

Sam let out a relieved chuckle and shook his head. "Hell if I know, man. You tell me."

Dean swallowed, his eyes losing focus again momentarily. "Get some rest."

Sam barely heard the whispered words.

"What? Dean?" His hand tightened around his brother's leg and he gave the jean-clad knee a shake. "Don't do this to me, man."

"That's what everyone kept saying to me in… back there." Dean looked at Sam with an odd expression that was part sadness and part relief. "You, Mom… everyone kept telling me to get some rest." He laughed softly and shrugged a shoulder. "Well that and asking me if I'd been drinking."

Sam smiled in relief and pushed himself off the floor, sinking onto the edge of the bed next to his brother. "Probably easier for the Djinn to control the fantasy if you were relaxed."

Sam could still see the pain and sadness on his brother's face as the memories of his wish life pressed down on him. If he had a wish of his own, it would be that Dean could have that life for real. Nobody deserved it more. "I'm sorry you had to go through that Dean," he said solemnly.

"I'm not."

Sam couldn't help the surprised grunt. "What?"

Dean shrugged again, this time wincing at the soreness in his shoulders. Being strung up by your arms for any long period of time really did a number on the joints and Sam winced in sympathy for his brother's physical pain as well as emotional.

But Dean just continued, his voice soft. "I'm not sorry. Truth is, I'm kind of glad it happened." At his brother's confused expression, he took a deep breath and tried to explain. "I was forgetting her, Sam. I mean, yeah, I have her picture and I can look at it and remember what she looked like, but I was forgetting her… her smell… her voice… It was like she was hardly even real anymore. I couldn't remember her…."

Sam's heart clenched at his brother's confession. Sam loved his mom, but he'd never felt as if he'd lost her – not really. He didn't have any memory of her. Sure he had the stories that Dean and Dad had shared about her and, like Dean, he had her picture so he would always remember her face, but he had never actually lost his memories of her. He never really had any of his own to lose. Not like Dean. Sam did know how hard it was when the memories of someone you loved and lost started to fade. He just couldn't imagine having to live with that pain for twenty-four years.

"Dean, you were four years old…"

Dean nodded. "But now," he continued as if his brother hadn't spoken. "Now I can hear her voice." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "I can even smell her perfume." A sad smile formed on his lips. "Lilacs." He opened his eyes and turned his head, letting his tears fall openly as he shared his memories with his brother. "She smelled like lilacs, Sammy. She was so beautiful."

Sam swallowed and blinked against the moisture in his own eyes. Leave it to Dean to force his way past his own pain to bring a little comfort to his little brother. He returned Dean's watery grin. "Then I'm glad you got her back, Dean. Whatever you went through, maybe that was worth it, too."

Dean nodded and this time the smile reached his eyes. "More than worth it, Sammy."

End