Title: Let's Start Over

Author: Amber Balzer

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: K+-T

Timeline: Somewhere around seasons 7 and 8

Description: "Sam Winchester, the... Boy with the demon blood."

First impressions can last a lifetime. So how do Castiel's first words to Sam Winchester affect him, even if it's three years later?

A/N: Here I am, more Sam Winchester feels... Always kinda wondered how Castiel's first words would effect Sam, even a long time later I felt like they would leave some sort of an impact on him. So I wrote a fic. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Kripke's playroom. Just decided to play around a bit.

Castiel, angel of The Lord, shoved open the motel room door, angrily grumbling under his breath as he tried to empty his full hands. "Hello, Mr. Grumpy..." Dean's voice said from the couch.

Cas rolled his eyes, shoving the bags onto the counter and kicking the door closed with his foot. Why was he always the one making the grocery runs?

He plopped down on the couch next to Dean, handing over an apple pie with a sigh. Dean's wide grin was to be expected.

Castiel frowned at Dean's choice in entertainment. On the TV was what appeared to be a little less than what qualified as a porno, but near close. "Are you going to be out here all night?" Cas complained, glaring at the television.

"Prob'ly," Dean answered, hardly paying attention. The couple on the TV shared a kiss that made Cas look away, disgusted. "If it bothers you go somewhere else."

Cas grumbled irritated comments under his breath. It's not like there were any other places in the motel to retire to... The motel room only had a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and a bedroom. "Where's Sam?" Cas asked, with the intention of helping the younger Winchester with something a bit more productive.

Dean shrugged in response, eyes not leaving the TV. "Bedroom, I think. Said somethin' about a headache."

Cas scowled, standing and walking towards the door on the opposite side of the motel room. "Dean, I do believe you need to reevaluate your ideas of entertainment."

With that, he gently pushed open the bedroom door and let it close behind him. The bedside lamp was on, the lightbulb emitting a low buzz as Castiel's eyes landed on Sam.

He was asleep, laying on his side with one hand under the pillow and the other next to it. A few stray chunks of his hair and fallen into his face. He looked altogether peaceful.

Until Cas saw the tight grip his exposed hand had on the sheet. And the sweat beginning to line his face and hair line. They hadn't gone on any hunts recently... What was he dreaming about?

Cas didn't want to intrude on his privacy, but, for some strange reason, he felt the urge to. As if something bad would happen if he didn't. Like that tingle when there's someone watching, he just felt... Off. Out of place.

So he stepped up to the side of the bed, kneeling down and brushing aside Sam's chocolate-brown hair. A small sound of distress escaped Sam's lips, and that was when Castiel decided to press two fingers against his forehead. He was encountered with his own face, mid-sentence. This was in that town, a while ago... "...is an abomination."

Had he said that? Yeah, he had... About Sam.

Sam Winchester, an abomination? Why-

His thoughts were interrupted when the scene changed. To his and Sam's first meeting. Back then, he couldn't see it. But now...

Cas had grabbed his hand, gently, and the emotion flaring behind Sam's eyes... His expression of pure astonishment and excitement. But then Cas spoke. "Sam Winchester, the... Boy with the demon blood."

And then it faded away. And Sam's face fell, the excitement withering to ashes. The way his form slumped over physically, the way his emotion crumpled within seconds. All that caused by one little sentence.

And Cas hadn't even cared to notice.

Cas had forgotten since then, since three years ago. He'd forgotten about his and Sam's first meeting, and how he hadn't noticed what he'd done. How he hadn't noticed that he'd destroyed Sam's sense of hope with the snap of his fingers.

Sam had been full of excitement because he had believed for so long, because he was finally meeting an angel. A real life, honest to God angel. And Castiel had crushed it. That first impression, the thing that would hang on him forever... Destroyed.

Expectation: "Our father is proud of you. You've believed for so long and made up for all of your sins."

Reality: "You've believed and tried so hard, but none of that matters because you've sinned. Because you made one little mistake."

And Sam's faith, his belief- Castiel had grabbed it and stomped on it, then burned it and made it completely unrecognizable before shoving it back into him.

And that was never going to be forgotten.

Sam was never going to forget that the first thing an angel had said to him had been an accusation of his sins.

Even after he'd tried so hard to make up for them.

Castiel was shoved out of Sam's memories as the younger man woke up, and guilt began taking over the angel's features. Sam Winchester, called an abomination by the same angel who had destroyed his hope at even an attempt to get into heaven... All because Castiel had been too heartless to realize that, despite it all, Sam was stronger than anyone else he'd ever encountered. Not physically, maybe, but emotionally...

Loving and never betraying his family, even if they hurt him as he was growing up. Trying to save his brother from hell even if it meant his own life. Taking a childhood "curse" and trying to save people with it. Saying "no" to Lucifer, then signing a contract to eternity in the cage with the devil himself, an eternity of pain, endless pain and suffering and agony... His heart filled to the brim and spilling over with things that the people around him didn't deserve, but that he gave them anyways... And the first thing that had been said to him by the person he'd waited so long to meet, by the person who could praise him for the good he'd done...

Was an accusation for doing something wrong that he thought was right.

An accusation for doing something that he thought could make up for the microscopic amount of evil he'd done.

Sam Winchester was even more righteous than the righteous man himself.

But now, because of Castiel, he thought he was worthless. He thought he was evil. He thought he didn't deserve heaven. Or love. Or anything else that he really, really did deserve.

And there's no taking back words once they've already been said.

While Castiel was frozen in shock, Sam had noticed him there and furiously wiped the tears away. "Cas," he mumbled. "I... wasn't expecting to see you there..."

Castiel didn't know what to say. "Sam..."

Sam blinked furiously. "Don't worry 'bout it, Cas, I'm fine, I-"

"I did this to you," Cas whispered, shaking his head. "This is my fault."

"N-no, Cas, it's not..." Sam began.

"I called you an abomination. And I- our first meeting, Sam, I ruined it..." Castiel shook his head, so angry at himself that he found it difficult to keep his bearings. But when he saw Sam with tear stains on his cheeks and pain in his eyes, he had a little something to help him do so. "You were so excited and I ruined it."

The youngest Winchester looked over at him, having given up trying to wipe his tears away and letting it all just flow out. Castiel couldn't shake the thought that this was because of him. This strong, righteous man was broken- no, shattered. His soul separated into millions of tiny pieces. He'd been dropped and broken, then picked up and glued together, then dropped again. And again. And again. And he was never going to be the same again. "I tried so hard, Cas..." He whispered, voice breaking as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried unsuccessfully to hold back a sob.

Castiel surged forward, pulling Sam towards him and grabbing him in a strong embrace. "I thought if I tried hard enough, that- that I... I would be worth it, that I would have the chance to be a good person, but..." Sam let his forehead fall onto Castiel's shoulder. "Every time I tried to do something good I made a mistake, and-"

"You are worth it, Sam," Castiel interrupted.

"No. Cas, I'm not..." Sam's voice was shaking slightly.

"Yes, you are," Castiel interrupted again. "You've done so much good in the world. You're strong, you're kind and loving, and you never ask for anything in return. Never."

"But, Cas, I've made so many mistakes that I-I haven't- that I can't make up for, and-" Sam's words were spilling out now, rushed by the sobs he was trying to hold back that kept catching in his throat. "Every time I do something wrong, I get yelled at, I-I get accused, and ev-eryone hates me for it- when I do something good, I don't get praised, or-or thanked, and no one even cares that I did a-nything 't all, and I'm only recognized for the things I do wrong, and I..."

Sam's voice broke then, the sobs taking over as he just gave up talking, gave up trying to say anything. As he let everything he'd been holding in just pour out. Castiel rubbed small circles onto Sam's back, the feeling of awkwardness that would usually be there nowhere in sight. Because this was Sam.

And this was his fault.

Sam wasn't even trying to hold it back anymore. He wasn't even trying to be quiet. He needed comfort, and he knew it. Cas glanced up as the door swung open to reveal a rather panicked Dean standing there, who froze upon seeing the scene in front of him. Cas could only imagine what was going through his head. "What the hell?" He mouthed.

Cas shook his head. "Later," he mouthed in reply.

Dean's eyes widened as he put two and two together. He went to speak but Cas gave him a stern look. Dean gave a hesitant nod, eyes lingering on Sam's form for a few long seconds before he stepped back out of the room and quietly closed the door behind him. Sam was trying to talk again. "Cas, I-I-"

Cas placed a finger on Sam's lips, silencing him. "You are worth it, Sam Winchester," he repeated for a third time, locking Sam's gaze in his and not allowing him to speak. Sam stared at him with disbelieving, bleary, and wet eyes. "You are worth it because you are the strongest man I have ever known. How many people do you think are capable of enduring nearly two hundred years of torture by Lucifer himself? How many people could fight a fight that they know will get them killed? How many people could let themselves be tortured and beaten at every corner to save the world but ask for nothing in return? I only know of one. You, Sam."

Sam blinked, trying to come up with a protest but finding nothing. Another tear slid down his cheek and he choked back another sob. "D-do you... Cas..."

Castiel silenced him again. Knowing what he was asking. Knowing that it would take a long, long time to convince Sam that he had done more good than harm. Knowing that everything that had been said to Sam in an attempt to shove him down could never be taken back.

But also knowing that they could do it. Knowing that they could convince Sam to keep living. Knowing that there was a way to figure this all out, and he was going to find it.

Cas stood, slowly, and gestured for Sam to do the same, standing across from him. Sam stared at him, tears still streaming down his cheeks, sniffles and small sobs still being heard. But he needed to do this.

Cas grabbed Sam's hand in the same gesture as he had three years ago, candy blue eyes meeting beautiful hazel-green. Castiel gave a small smile. "Let's start over," he said softly, looking at the floor before meeting Sam's gaze again. "Hello, Sam Winchester..."