First one! Right at freaking 999 words too, haha I knew this snapshot thing was gonna be hard for me!

After the other night, I just had to write this.

05. Regret

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"Hello, Dean."

Dean sat up, took in the sight of the angel that had invaded his dream. "Hey, Cas." It was good to see him, and he almost smiled.

Castiel turned fully to face Dean, his blue eyes piercing. "I'm here about Sam."

Shit. "Yeah? What about him?"

"You shouldn't have spoken to him the way you did, Dean. He is far beyond wounded and lost right now, and he needs you, Dean. He needs his older brother."

"That's nice. Maybe he shoulda thought of that when I was trying to help him before." He coughed, looked up and held the angel's gaze. "Anything else?"

Cas' eyes narrowed, cold. "I thought you were a better man than that, Dean."

"Everyone has a breaking point, Cas. Guess I've reached mine."

He shook his head once, reached out to touch two fingers to Dean's forehead. Faster than he could've blinked they were in another hotel room. "Where-"

"Shh." Castiel pushed him forward, hand firm on his shoulder. "I was not allowed to show you before, as it was in their best interests to keep distance between you, to keep him on the path that would lead him to break the final seal. But I can do as I will now, and there are things you need to see, Dean. Things you should've known all along."

Anything else he might've said stopped there, a sound both familiar and foreign effectively slicing through his thoughts. It was a sob, an almost frantic muffled sound and even though he hadn't heard him cry that hard since he was a kid, he'd have known that sound anywhere. His eyes snapped to where Sam sat against the foot of the bed, his head in one hand and Dean's pistol in the other, his shoulder's shaking.

He started forward, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"You can't touch him, Dean. Watch."

He would have hardly been able to look away. He saw Sam's thumb smooth across the grip, saw the glint of light off the amulet that hung against his chest. He was intent on Sam, on the way his breath hitched with another sob, the way it almost sounded like his name. He was too focused to notice her show up, and he jerked just like Sam did when she stroked her hand through his hair.

"Sam. C'mon, Sam, we're so close! Look, I'm not good at comforting you, I know that, and I know you hate it when I talk about him but you're doing this for Dean, ok? You can do this, Sam!"

He twitched just a little away from her touch, his eyes dark and pained when he looked up. "It doesn't matter, Ruby. Even if we catch her, what then? It's too late. I'm too late. I should've killed her before but I didn't. I couldn't. And doing it now won't…" His voice broke. "He's gone. And nothing changes that. And I can't…" He swallowed hard, shook his head once. "I just can't. It's too much."

She bit her lip, looked hesitant. "Sam, there's a way for you to be stronger, alright? I just haven't told you because I didn't think you'd have the stomach for it. It's not exactly something you'd usually accept."

"Ruby, stop-"

"You could bring him back."

That got his attention. "Cut the bullshit."

"It's not bullshit, Sam. If you do this, if you work, if you get strong enough…I think you could bring him back. You can be stronger than us; I know you can do this." Before he could think better of it she pulled her arm up, sliced it open before his eyes. Sam pulled back from her just a little, horror and revulsion stirring in his eyes. She sighed, rolled her eyes. "Do want him or not?"

He looked away. "I do this…you swear to me I can bring Dean back?"

"Yes."

"Sammy, don't." His own voice cut the silence, rough and thick with the pain clenching at his chest.

Sam shuddered once, lowered his head to meet the gash on her arm. He almost gagged on the taste at first, Dean could tell, but he dropped the pistol, grabbed her arm in both hands and forced himself to drink deeply.

Over his shoulder, Ruby grinned.

"Sam!" He felt Castiel's hand on his back for a moment, warm and solid, and then he was jolting awake in a different hotel room, panting, a cold sweat cementing his shirt to his chest.

He flailed for the light, got it on the first try. He licked his lips, his chest still heaving. He could taste salt, and it didn't surprise him. Not after what he'd just seen. "Sammy?" His voice shook on the word, and he took a deep breath to settle himself back into the present. The bitch was dead. He'd killed her with his own hands. They'd killed her.

"Dean?" He sounded so small, and Dean's heart ached at the sound. He swung his legs over the bed, rubbed a hand hard over his face before looking up to meet his little brother's eyes.

"I…" He stopped, really looked. Cas had been right about everything. Sam was looking at him now like he was 5 all over again, and Dean was about to tell him the secrets of the universe. He sighed, ran a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Sam…I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" Sam sat up on the edge of his bed, faced him. "What's wrong?"

Dean shook his head, stood up and wasn't surprised when Sam mirrored his movements. He pulled him into a fierce hug, felt whatever soul he had left crack at the way Sam held onto him tight enough to bruise.

He buried his face against Dean's shoulder, and he could feel his breath shaky, unsure. "Dean?"

He tightened his grip, let out a heavy breath it felt like he'd been holding for a year. "It's ok, Sammy. We're gonna be ok."

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It's more rushed than I would've liked, and it was so hard to cut it off there. I may end up semi continuing this scene in another snapshot…