A/N: Damn it. Another. But shit, in light of tonight's episode this whole return of the darkside!Sam plot, plus some other fan's comment that Dean could have to choose between saving the world and saving Sam.
Thus, the angst was born. But don't think this is going to be a regular thing again.
No Slash.
WARNING: Major, major angst.
Music: "Goodbye My Love" or "Remember Us" from the 300 OST.
Finished and Free
When they've driven back the demons – killed some and exorcised others – they know they've run out of road. Dean crawls to Sam, laying a hand on his brother's chest and lingering, curling inwards to fist the shirts. Dean pulls himself up, closer, by that fist. He drops his head down, rests his face in Sam and smells that old dying: sweat, dirt, ash, and blood. His body slumps, torso on his brother and legs limp on the ground, and he rolls his head to one side. He watches the floating particles like black snow in the air; he doesn't know if they're bits of earth or demon or fire.
He can hear his brother's heart, dragging beneath him.
"We did it," Dean says. "Sammy."
"Dean."
Sam doesn't try to move; he knows he'd fail. He keeps his eyes shut against the sting.
"Thank you," he says.
Dean doesn't answer. He knows what it's for, and he has nothing to say for himself because it was nature – saving Sammy's soul.
Sam begins to move his left hand, Dean closes his eyes listening to his pulse, and a new noise joins it: metal against ground. Sam pushes his hand up a little, against his own hip, and Dean knows what it is before he looks.
The gun is still clean.
They lie still together for a moment. Dean looks at the gun, and Sam doesn't look at the sky. Dean unclenches his fist, slides his hand down Sam's torso and around the gun barrel. Sam holds onto the grip, and Dean's hand pushes into his, fingers spread out to bend and rest over his brother's hand. They hold the gun together, and Dean can feel the open cuts. He doesn't look anymore, but he takes time, paying attention to the skin: dry, worn, callused, scarred. Tender.
Dean's left hand moves up into Sam's hair.
"Sam," he says, disentangling his hand and the gun from his brother.
Sam doesn't speak, breathing through parted lips. Dean pulls Sam's head back, by his hair, slow and gentle.
"Don't you let go of my hand. Not 'til we get done crossing."
He shoots.
And again.