Skin White As Snow.
Sam was alone. He had no body again. Instead of going back to Amelia, the hatred carried him forward and out. He no longer kept contact with any other hunters or Kevin. Sam was utterly and painfully alone.
Ever since Dean died, revenge and overcoming loathe pushed him, angels stopped contacting him and demons left him alone. There was no sign of Crowley anywhere. He longed for the day when he would once again encounter Cas, whether it be on a hunt or in his sleep, so he could slash his throat out with the angel blade he picked up from Megs body.
For five years Sam hunted the angel, Castiel, to avenge his brother's death. The night they went to retrieve the angel tablet, Cas, the one angel Sam knew he could trust, turned on Dean and killed him, slowly and painfully. Sam ran in just in time to hold his brother in his arms. He ran his hand through his hair and wiped the tears from his face. Sam should've never had to witness his big brothers last breaths release from his lungs and watch the light gently liberate from his eyes. Sam picked him up and sat him in the back seat of the Impala and sobbed for hours on the drive to where he was first buried. He buried him there in hope that he would come back again. He kept that hope for 3 years, but the hope slowly vanished and he finally accepted the fact the Dean wasn't coming back.
It was January 24th and a thin layer of snow covered the grounds outside the motel room. The morning local paper lacked jobs to keep him busy so Sam laid on his back staring at the ceiling. Occasionally, he would turn his head over and gaze at the empty bed beside him imagining an exhausted Dean who just finished a job. The cheap mattress began to hurt his back. He sat up, brushed his hair back with his fingers, yawned, and made his way to the mini fridge next to the table. "Awesome." He said under his breath as he starred at the empty 12 pack. He lazily opened the door and slipped on Dean's jacket. When he stepped outside the piercing cold shocked him and made him rush to the car. The snow on the door handle dampened his hand causing him to dry it off on his jeans when he sat down. He double checked his pocket to make sure he was carrying the angel blade and drove off.
When Sam returned, something didn't seem right. The lights were off in his room. He gripped the blade and stepped out. Quietly shutting the door behind him and one foot at a time, he approached the door. It was slightly agape. He took a long breath and pushed it open and at the same time quickly checking behind the door. Hand still grasping the blade, he scoped the room. "Sam." A gruff voice emitted from the back corner. Sam knew almost instantly from the voice that it was Cas. His hatred stormed through his head as he whipped out the blade.
"Sam, listen to me. I didn't mean to kill Dean."
"Shut it!" Sam flicked on the light.
Finally, Sam thought. He was finally going to kill the monster that took his brother. He found him so hideous and at this point, he didn't give a rat's ass about anything he had to say about Dean's death. If it wasn't his fault why'd it take him 5 damn years to tell him?
Cas started to move towards Sam. Sam took a step forward and lifted the blade higher. They both stopped. Cas showed so much sorrow and pain in his face. He lowered his head and began to cry.
"Sam, it wasn't me. I didn't…" he choked on the ball in his throat, "I didn't want to kill Dean. Sam, I'm so sorry."
"It was you! You killed Dean. His blood is on your hands!"
Sam ran to Cas and lashed the blade down his face. He fell back and hit his head on the wall. The bright white beam of glowing light in the slice mixed well with his blood. Sam pushed the blade into his gut and Cas groaned in pain.
"Sam. Please. It was Naomi," he coughed up blood, it spattered on Sam's face, "she was controlling us but she's gone now. I had no choice, I tried to fight it".
Hearing this, Sam stopped. He didn't know whether to believe him or not. Before Dean died, they were both skeptical about Castiel. Maybe, Sam thought, he's telling the truth. Sam put his hand on Cas' head and lifted it up slowly. He starred into his deep blue eyes and wondered. This was Cas, the angel who's saved his ass more times than he can count. Why would he just turn? Sam suddenly heard the sound of fluttering wings behind him and snapped his head around. It was Anna, standing beautifully at the door.
"Sam, stop!" Cas and Anna must have gotten closer in heaven, because she looked like she was about to cry when she saw what I've done.
"Anna? I thought you were dead." Sam was in shock. Cas was, too, but his pain was so overwhelming he couldn't show it.
"Sam… He's right. I'm so sorry about Dean, but it wasn't his fault. After he realized what he did, he bawled for days. Please believe me. Put the blade down."
Sam looked down at the blade covered in Cas' blood. Silent tears ran down his face as he looked over at Cas. He just spent five years hunting the wrong angel not knowing the truth. Sam caressed the side of Cas' face and dropped the blade.
Hands shaking he looked at Anna, "Heal him!"
"I'll try." She spoke doubtfully as she cried.
Sam once again looked at Cas, the life draining from his eyes. "Hey," he said slapping his face, "stay with me, okay?" Cas looked up at Sam, "I… I'm sorry, Sam." Blood dripped out of his mouth and he took a few quiet, unsteady breaths but then stopped… just as Anna reached down to heal him.
Sam's eyes widened as he stared at his work. He shook Cas by the shoulders, "No! Cas!" The blue in his eyes faded and his skin matched the snow outside. Anna fell to her knees and sobbed over Cas' lifeless body. Sam stood up and with his hands both on the top of his head he screamed. Five years he wanted to kill Cas, but know that he's done it, all he wants to do is kill himself. If he would've just listened sooner or maybe if Anna came earlier, he would still be alive. It wasn't Cas who killed Dean, it was Naomi. The hatred was quickly switched out with crushing guilt. No words could ever describe how sorry Sam felt for Cas. What if Dean knew it wasn't truly Cas and Sam just hunted and killed his best friend. The pain was too much. He couldn't handle it. This was it. He reached the top of the mountain and the only thing for him to do now is jump off. Sam stormed out the door without looking back. He opened the trunk and grabbed the nearest pistol and raised it to his head. Tears washed down his face and sob after sob escaped his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Cas…" He closed his eyes and whispered, "I'm coming, Dean." And once again, Winchester blood covered the ground.