Tag to 5.16, Dark Side of the Moon. Awesome, awesome episode. The boys are in such a bad place right now. I fear it's gonna get worse before it gets better, but even the Winchesters need a pick-me-up once in a while. That's what we're for, right? Not much, but…

My Screwed Heaven

"So," Sam cleared his throat, wincing as the sound echoed loudly inside the car. "We heading anywhere specific?"

They had been driving at least an hour, neither brother breaching the silence that had settled upon them since their return from Heaven.

Heaven. Sam couldn't even begin to understand what they had just experienced. Heaven was simply the reliving of a person's fondest memories? Like a DVR playback of times past? And he couldn't help but wonder how exactly those memories were chosen. If he was honest with himself, he would have to admit that that Thanksgiving, the time spent in Flagstaff were good times for him, but his best memories? Not hardly.

And what about the night he left for Stanford? Sure, he had found himself giddy with anticipation as the bus rolled into Palo Alto, but back in Ohio? At the old house they'd been renting? He remembered the fight with their Dad, he remembered the hurt expression on Dean's face, the fear of what he was about to do… even if he had felt a glimmer of excitement concerning his break away from the nightmare of their lives, it wasn't until much later, hundreds of miles from that memory, that it could even remotely be construed as good.

So, those memories? Not exactly in his top ten. But he knew he'd never be able to convince Dean of that. Right now his brother was hurting in so many ways that Sam knew it would be impossible to get him to listen to any excuses he had to offer.

It came down to family. Sam meant what he'd said, they just didn't look at family in the same way. Sam saw it as a way to move forward – Dean saw it as something to hold on to. Of course, Dean also saw it as the one thing that could cut you deeply. And, Sam had to admit, from his brother's perspective, the wounds just kept on bleeding.

He watched his brother's profile, sighing quietly at the tense hold of the older man's jaw. Dean wasn't ready to talk, and Sam knew from experience, he wouldn't be able to force his brother into it until he was ready. He leaned to the left a bit, his eyes raking the dashboard, noting the dial on the gas gauge leaning far to the left.

"We're gonna have to stop for gas soon," he offered. "Maybe get something to eat?"

Dean's eyes flicked to the gauge and he nodded slightly. Sam swallowed, thankful that he had been heard – at least Dean wasn't completely shutting him out.

Of course, that wasn't really Dean's style was it? Dean was never the one that cut ties. He was never the one that left. No, that was always left to the other people in his life. His mind replayed the scene with Mom in Zachariah's trap. Her accusation that it was Dean's fault that people always managed to leave him had cut his brother to the bone.

"Everyone leaves you, Dean. Mommy, Daddy, even Sam… maybe it's not them. Maybe, it's you."

Sam winced, remembering the slump of his brother's shoulders as the image of their mother – the person Dean held on the highest pedestal – berated his worth. Is that really what his brother thought of himself? Did he really believe himself unworthy of being loved?

"That wasn't really Mom."

Dean clenched his jaw, swallowing hard at his brother's soft words. "I know."

"I think everything – the memories, Ash, Pamela… everything was some kind of manipulation to get to you."

Dean kept his eyes on the road, but the muscles in his jaw twitched, telling Sam he was listening.

"I don't know if it was Zachariah, or.. or even God himself, but Dean, you have to know that those memories – even though they were good memories for me at the time, were in no way what I would choose as my heaven."

Dean snorted a laugh that held no humor. "Right."

"I know there's no way I can convince you," Sam shrugged. "Not right now anyway, but as much as I wanted to get away from Dad and hunting, I never wanted to get away from you."

Dean shook his head slowly. "You did a damn good job of it anyway."

Sam took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I would have taken you with me if I could. But you know as well as I do that you would've never come."

"That's because I knew where I belonged, Sam."

"And I didn't. I just knew I didn't belong there. Not then. I knew I didn't want that life."

Dean laughed softly again. "And how did that work out for you?"

"It made me appreciate what I had," Sam admitted honestly. "Dean, if I would've stayed, I would've never had the chance to realize just what was important."

"And what's that, Sam?" His eyes swept to the right, glancing at Sam, but quickly averting back to the road.

"This." Sam swept an arm between the two of them. "Us. What we're doing. What we're fighting for. It's important, Dean. It's probably the most important thing anyone has ever done."

Dean chuckled, one side of his mouth turning up into a grin. "Delusions of grandeur much, Sammy?"

Sammy.

The word was music to Sam's ears.

"Let's face it, Dean. The world's fate rests on our shoulders. We're fighting Heaven and Hell. It really doesn't get more epic than that. We can't run from it, hell we can't even die to avoid it. It sucks, and I wish we could just ignore it, but…"

"We can't." Dan finished for him. "This is our fault."

Sam nodded in agreement. "And we have to fix it."

"Or die trying." Dean shook his head wearily. "Again."

Sam didn't like the defeated sound still prevalent in his brother's voice, but at least Dean was talking now. He'd take what he could get.

"Or die trying.," he forced himself to agree.

"You're right," Dean said softly after a few moments of silence. "It sucks."

"Yeah," Sam shrugged. "But I'll pretend it doesn't if you do."

"So, Heaven can wait, huh?" Dean chuckled and Sam felt a little bit of the despair that had been riding his brother slip away. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now. It would have to be.

The End