Summary: It had meant everything to him. Amulet fic. Written for SPN Quote Fic community on LJ.
Prompt - Sam: "That necklace mean something to you?" ~2.07 The Usual Suspects
In Memory Of
He remembers the way his brother had thrown the trinket away, how he'd dropped it into the trash can by the door on the way out of the motel room. He remembers the deliberate way the scarred fist had hovered over the plastic bin and let the pendant hang down, swinging, then the black leather thong had slipped through loosened fingers, and the brass head had landed with a dull thud on the bottom of the receptacle.
He'd done this, all the while knowing that Sam had been watching, no, making sure he'd been watching his brother throw away their bond, their love, their trust.
Sam remembers that Christmas, years back, when he'd given Dean the necklace. Dean, not Dad. Dad, he'd felt at the time, hadn't deserved it. Dad had lied to him. Dad was never home, if dirty motels could even be called home. Dean…Dean had always been there for him. Dean had told him everything. Dean had been everything.
And that's what the necklace had meant to Sam, everything.
That's why he'd kept it when Dean died. The second time, anyway, or the hundred and second time, depending on which deaths you counted. He'd worn it as reverently as one wears a cross, or a tattoo saying, "In memory of." Because it had meant that to him, a reminder of what he had to work for, what he had to strive to be, what he had to have faith in. For four months, he'd worn it.
And then Dean had come back. And the necklace had gone back to where it belonged; the golden amulet shining on Dean's broad chest.
For years, it had been their secret, their way of saying things no grown man lacking ovaries would utter, and it had meaning only for them. It had worth only for the two of them, until suddenly, it was more than that. Castiel wanted it to find God; it was actually special in a completely different way, in a way that could help them end the Apocalypse.
He remembers when Dean had finally, reluctantly, handed the necklace over to the falling angel, warning him to take care of it.
He remembers how it had felt when Dean had given the symbol of their trust, their love, their everything, to Castiel. He remembers how it had felt when Dean had discarded it on their return from Heaven, deliberately, as if intending to wound Sam.
It had hurt, it had. He'd felt betrayed, yet was conscious of the many ways he had himself betrayed Dean. It had hurt, burned an aching pain into the very depths of his soul, his very being.
But still, he'd picked it up. He'd picked it up out of the garbage, out of the rest of the trash, because he had felt something, because it had meant something to him. He'd kept it, even to the very end when he'd let Lucifer in and felt his world end, because it had meant something to him; it had meant everything to him.
And now, he remembers, as he pulls the necklace out of his jacket pocket and looks at it, he remembers everything he'd used to feel about the trinket and realizes it doesn't mean anything to him anymore.
So he shrugs and chucks it with the handful of old receipts he'd found in his other pocket, sorting it apart from the spare ammo which he can still use, sweeps the pile of junk straight into the trash bin.
It means nothing to him now.