Aftermath, Winchester Style.
Sam let himself quietly into the room. The adrenaline rush inspired by his confrontation with the crossroads demon, sorrow over killing yet another innocent human being, and the gut wrenching panic over hearing that Dean's deal might be even more iron clad than he had previously thought, had left him shivering and nauseous. Despite emptying his stomach (and what felt like the rest of his internal organs) in one agonising attack, he had still to stop a few more times to bend helplessly over the grassy verge as he desperately retched and dry heaved bile and even a little bit of blood. Waking up Dean and having to explain where he had been in the middle of the night, were therefore nowhere on his list of priorities for the rest of the night. Given how his life had been of late, however, it was not really a surprise to find his brother very much awake and pacing the carpet.
'Where have you been?' Dean had been awake long enough to be seriously worried and with memories of their fight in the car fuelling his worry into rage, the volume and power of his question was sufficient to make Sam take a step back. Trying not to groan aloud, Sam focussed his best innocent puppy dog look at Dean 'Just stepped out for some air, Dean'.
'Stepped out for air - for nearly two hours? Without your cell? And with my car? Tell me the truth, Sam!' The last part was nearly a bellow and Sam winced wondering if there were any neighbours' ready to bring down the management and possibly the police on them. He knew one of them needed to stay calm but the ever-present nausea and the heartsick gut punched feeling enveloping him, overwhelmed his logic. His emotional controls were all over the place and a large part of him felt that if he shared his burden with Dean, his big brother would be able to somehow make it all better. That is after all what Dean had always been able to do – keep him safe, make him feel as if Dean's mere presence was enough to keep all disasters at bay. Right now Sam desperately needed to feel that security again, however delusional and irrational his logic told him such security actually was.
'I summoned the Crossroads Demon' he admitted miserably, 'and I killed her'.
His confession was followed by a moment of complete silence, as Dean struggled to process both the implications and his own visceral emotions. Terror at Sam's actions and their possible consequences, relief that Sam was still alive and standing in front of him, blended with fears over whether Sam was still 100 percent Sam or not, all conspired to mentally force him to his knees. There was also anger, arising not just from the force of his worries but also from resentment that Sam not only couldn't let him live out his last year in peace but also seemed determined to burden him with old fears of an evil destiny that he thought had died with the Yellow Eyed Demon. The terror, fear and anger won out over his relief, manifesting in cold calm rage. 'What the hell were you thinking Sam? Or is killing innocents your new hobby?'
Sam flinched at his brother's words. 'I was thinking that I'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive and your soul out of hell, Dean. I was thinking that if trying to trap the Crossroads Demon could be seen as welching on the deal, making it null and void, then killing her should have instantly meant that the deal was off and status quo should have been restored.'
'Status Quo?' Dean couldn't believe his ears and the fiery red edging his vision wasn't helping. Slamming his brother against the nearest wall helped a bit but his voice was still shaking with rage when he repeated 'Status Quo Sam? You mean where you drop dead again? Is that what you were hoping to achieve by sneaking out in the middle of the night without even a note to let me know of your plans to commit suicide?'
'No!' Sam denied though his voice lacked conviction. Shoring up faltering defences and strength, he attempted to explain himself firmly and quickly, before Dean decided to convert his obviously fratricidal thoughts into action. 'I was trying to threaten her into giving up your deal, Dean. But she said that your contract was not in her hands but in those of her boss. I don't know whether she was lying – I mean, you keep reminding me that demons lie – but I couldn't take the chance that she was bluffing. This way, the Crossroads Demon is dead – if the deal died with her, then the death of an innocent is worth it to me. And if the deal did not die with her, even if she told the truth for once, killing her should get her boss' attention.' Taking a deep breath, he added more softly but no less firmly 'And if killing her was understood to be a violation of the terms of the deal then that was fine with me as well.'
Dean froze for a moment and then hastily backed away from his brother, knowing that any attempt to continue this fight at this time would result in his losing all control over his emotions and actions. Neither actually killing Sam (however satisfying an option at present) nor breaking down in tears (also a surprisingly attractive option) would help. He needed space and distance to compose his thoughts and subdue unruly emotions. He needed a Sam-free zone, his car, loud music and open road. Not even bothering to let Sam know that he would be back – after all the kid hadn't mentioned that he was trying to get himself killed, now had he – he turned, picked up his keys and opened the door, all in one fluid motion. He was almost through it when a defeated whisper of 'Dean' stopped him in his tracks. That particular tone, made up as it was of despair and defeat, had always had the power to drain him of all anger and draw him back to his brother's side. Today however, it failed to do more than stop him for the moment, unable even to make him turn and face Sam, forget about comforting and reassuring the younger man.
Recognising the need to speak quickly, Sam tried to get his most important points across to a brother too angry to listen to him. 'I don't take killing innocent people lightly, Dean, but as you once said the things we are willing to do for those we love is sometimes scary. I lost my mother to some powers and a destiny that I never chose; my father's soul when I didn't obey his orders to kill him – because Dean he would still have died but he would have taken the demon with him and been saved from going to hell as part of a deal to save your life later from that same demon - and I'm losing you because I chose to put my principles above the principles of hunting – don't hesitate at the kill. I'm through with losing and I need this message to go out unambiguously to whoever is listening – I willexact the cost of going through with this deal from every supernatural being in heaven and hell and every point in between – and I will keep on doing so, till I get some higher power – demon or angel – to break the deal. And I am not going to let you or anyone else stop me.'
Long after the deal was broken, Dean would remember the echo of Sam's words and the conflicting emotions they evoked in him - fear for his brother's life and soul, anger at Sam's recklessness, shame at hurting so badly the only family he had left, and the reluctant pride in Sam's strength, courage and determination. But what he remembered most of all was the overwhelming warmth of being loved and cherished, as he had never felt before. All his life he had known and accepted that he would do anything, sacrifice everything for Sam; that day he accepted for the first time that the same was true for Sam, that what Sam would not do for anyone else, he would do unhesitatingly and unconditionally for Dean.
While neither speaks of it openly, Sam remembers the day he killed the Crossroads Demon as one of the worst days in his life; and Dean remembers it as one of the best.