His Heaven
A/N: Haha, I thought I would go into this. Because Sam wouldn't have a Heaven without Dean! That's just crazy talk. So I came up with this excuse.
I don't own Supernatural.
Sam had seen the hurt on his brother's face. And it had pained him too, suffocating his body with another slab of raw guilt. But there was nothing he could do to make it right. Because Dean wouldn't understand.
So there wasn't a point in telling him.
Sam sighed tiredly, rubbing a hand across his aching forehead as he peered out of the window of the Impala. They hadn't spoken with each other since they had parted ways with Cas after being resurrected from Heaven. And why would they? Not after what happened. Not after the hope of beating the Apocalypse had collapsed. Not after Sam and Dean's already fragile trust had disintegrated.
Because although he hadn't said it, Sam knew that Dean didn't trust him with the task of continuing to deny Lucifer his vessel.
And with all that had happened in the past few hours, Sam wasn't sure he could trust Dean with his part of the bargain, either.
Yet another hopeless stalemate, Sam thought miserably, warily glancing over at his brother staring straight and feigning focus, hands clenching the steering wheel incredibly tight.
Sam couldn't let his brother give consent, especially when it wasn't even Dean's fault. Dean didn't choose a demon's word over his own brother's. Dean didn't kill Lilith. And Dean certainly hadn't started the damn Apocalypse.
He scrunched his eyes shut, grimacing at his colossal mistakes. No, that was all on him.
And Sam Winchester would never agree to have his older brother's soul burn for someone else's past transgressions.
Like Hell that was going to happen.
His stomach twisted with dread as he dug in hands into the pockets of his jeans. Because as much of the thought of Dean consenting terrified him, nothing was worse than Dean's disappointment.
Nothing was worse than Dean doubting the strength of their relationship.
Nothing was worse than Dean doubting the love Sam had for his brother.
Sam knew because he was speaking from a current experience. And he didn't know what to do because he couldn't tell Dean. Because Dean wouldn't understand.
Because Dean had his Heaven, and Sam had his.
Dean's Heaven focused on his family. Sam had heard about it and witnessed it. He had seen their mother lovingly feed his older brother waffles. He had seen Dean comfort his mother in a clinging embrace. And he remembered one of the best moments of his childhood as Dean had explained to him the celestial vision of cheap fire crackers on Fourth of July and the sacred moment of shared amusement between the two of them.
In truth, being so close to Dean's Heaven had made him uncomfortable. And Dean had taken that the wrong way.
And of course, Dean had taken the absence of family in Sam's Heaven wrongly as well.
Sam sighed, twisting in his seat, so that he could get a better view through the window. It was dark, but light enough that Sam could still see the bristly texture of a forest of pines lining the interstate.
Was their relationship so damaged that Dean could no longer see? Sam bit his lip hard. He hoped not, for just the thought sent chills fingering down his spine.
He hoped it was only the sheer stress of being in Heaven while hunted by angels that had hindered his older brother's vision. But could he blame Dean if that was just how he felt? That Dean's ability to see Sam had become detached and guarded since the breaking of the 66th seal? That Dean just wouldn't understand but also couldn't?
Because Sam had known that Dean thought the absence of family from Sam's heaven was because Sam had little love for them. But in actuality, the absence of family from Sam's heaven was because Sam had too much love for them.
After all, Dean had his Heaven. And Sam had his.
Heaven was specific to its person's needs. That's why Ash had the Roadhouse. That's why Dean had his mother and a brother young enough to never betray him.
But Sam had his heaven. And his heaven knew he didn't deserve it.
Any of it.
And certainly not his big brother.
When Dean had questioned him about the Thanksgiving memory, Sam had quickly explained that it belonged in his Heaven because it was his first Thanksgiving, but Sam had hid the fact that in this memory he was literally on the verge of tears because he knew his family would never have this and Dean wasn't there.
Because Dean wouldn't understand.
Dean had grown more upset with the Flagstaff vision, and Sam had brushed it off as his first chance at normalcy, when in reality, Flagstaff was in his heaven because he was alone.
Sam had his heaven. But Dean wouldn't understand.
And how could he? Dean didn't start the Apocalypse. Dean wasn't the one that was forcing his brother to choose between the world and his soul.
Dean deserved Heaven. More than anyone Sam knew. And he deserved Hell. More than anyone he knew.
So Sam had his heaven. And Dean had his.
"Next town we'll get some grub and find a motel," Dean muttered, never glancing away from the road as they passed another exit.
Sam nodded slowly, his brow crinkling, "Sounds good."
Dean chose to remain silent after that.
Sam didn't like being in Dean's Heaven. He felt like he was violating something treasured and pure. He knew these memories were close to Dean. And Sam felt utterly vile having Dean see his Hell disguised as Heaven.
He shouldn't have been in Dean's Heaven. He shouldn't have been so close to their mother. He shouldn't have been one of the memories Dean cherished in secrecy.
Because Sam didn't deserve it.
Dean wasn't in Sam's heaven because Sam didn't deserve him.
But Dean was hurt; he didn't understand. And he didn't understand that Sam couldn't possibly bear to have Dean in his Heaven whether he felt like he deserved Dean there or not. Even just a memory of Dean in his Heaven, hit too close to the fact that Dean was dead not more than two years ago. Four agonizing months Dean was dead because of him.
And having any part of Dean in his Heaven, would feel too much like Dean dead all over again.
If Sam was dead, Dean needed to be alive. Dean couldn't be in Sam's Heaven. Dean needed to be alive on Earth, trying to live the life he had never been able to have.
And although Sam knew Dean might never understand Sam's logic of his Heaven, or even trust it, that didn't matter to Sam. Not really.
Because Dean had his Heaven. A real Heaven that could only come from someone who thought they really deserved it.
And that, that was heaven enough for Sam.