Title: In War There is Always Sacrifice….
Author: ME!
Rating: Teen or Pg-13, whatever floats your boat
Summary: When the war between good and evil begins, where will Sam and Dean stand when it all ends?
A/N: A special thanks to Jen because she helped me through sickness and health...and who through out countless hours of post episode ramblings helped this idea spark. This was actually written before the actual secert came to light...so let's just say this is AU...and I kinda snatched an idea from Charmed...so yeah...not claiming it as my own. Oh and please don't flame...this is my first real attempt at SPN...and remember flames are only good for torching bones. Oh and don't forget to Read and Review!
"Sam, move," Dean yells as he herds Sam forward. The slick ground of the soggy forest, makes their dash a little harder; the bloodthirsty creature chasing them makes it more urgent.
A few days ago they'd gotten wind of four mysterious deaths occurring in Jefferson City, Missouri. These deaths had been listed as an animal attacks, but when they had seen the autopsy photos they had known it was anything but. Neither of them had wanted to go back there, not when the last time they had come they lost not only their father, but also their only known hope of defeating the Yellow-Eyed Demon. But neither one of them could sit by and let more innocent people die.
"Damn it, Dean, I'm going as fast as I can!"
Dean makes sure to trail behind Sam, his eyes darting from Sam to their surroundings and then back to Sam, making sure that if anything heads towards his baby brother, he'll be the first to know. He gets his hand on Sam's back and pushes him, "Sammy, unless you want us to be that thing's lunch I suggest you move her lanky ass a little faster."
The thing roars and Sam speeds up. Suddenly he skids to a stop, Dean crashing into him.
"What the hell, dude?"
Dean looks around Sam and sees a second monster has appeared, bigger than the first.
"Looks like someone's got a momma and she's pissed."
Dean turns around to see that the first creature has closed what little distance was left between it and them. Both Dean and Sam pull out their guns and fire: Dean on the larger, Sam on the smaller of the two creatures. Sam fires round after round into the smaller one, finally getting a shot into its head. It falls to the ground unmoving. "Momma" throws back her head and lets out an unholy roar, causing both men to cover their ears. When its head lowers, its once milky white eyes are now solid black.
"Shit," Dean mumbles.
Sam and Dean raise their secondary guns and once more begin to fire as the remaining monster charges them. Sam's gun clicks as the clip empties, moments later it changes its path, seeing Sam as the weaker one.
"Sam," Dean screams as he shoves him out of the path of the creature and lets himself get the brunt of the attack. Sam watches helplessly as the creature sends Dean flying into the air, his body slams into a nearby tree.
Sam's heart stops as he waits for his brother to crash to the ground, body broken from the impact but there's only one impact. And then he notices that Dean's not moving from where he hit the tree, his feet are dangling nearly ten feet from the ground. Sam's heartbeat quickens to the point that it feels like his heart is trying to beat out of his chest.
Sam quickly runs closer to Dean; every scenario of why his brother is hanging there runs through his head, none of them good. Finally he gets close enough to notice the growing stain on Dean's chest, encircling the forearm thick branch that protrudes from his chest. And in that instance Sam feels as though there's a gaping hole in his chest as well.
Dean raises his head and looks from the branch to Sam. He tries to speak, but only manages to mouth, "Run," as blood seeps from his mouth. Sam's stomach twists as he's struck with a feeling of déjà vu.
"Dean," Sam screams as Dean's head falls downward. Sam's scream echoes and the creature tumbles away from an oblivious Sam as though violently pushed by an invisible force. It shakes its head and once more stalks its prey.
Sam reaches out to touch Dean, get him off the tree. He stops, his hand hesitates at the blood slick branch. He can't make himself go past the branch. Even now he fears adding onto the pain his brother must be feeling. He clinches his jaw as he silently begs Dean to move, flinch, hell, he'd even deal with Dean calling him Sammy but still he gets nothing but deathly silence. Because that's what it is. He's just watched his brother die. All the regrets rush him, making his chest feel tight. Now he truly is alone…..everyone he's ever loved has died….because of him. It has to end.
The creature closes in on Sam and almost appears to be smiling at what it's done. Sam's attempt to free his brother stalls as he hears the thing advance. He clenches his fists; his head begins to pound as he turns to face his brother's murderer. The pain in his head grows in intensity; this ache is different from that of a vision. This one doesn't come in sharp jabs as images flash before him. No, this time the pain pulsates and grows as though it's building in preparation of a catastrophic release. He feels a trickle of blood start to fall from his nose. As the creature rushes towards him his breathing quickens as he closes his eyes, concentrating on the pain, trying to control what before has been uncontrollable.
The monstrous beast jumps, ready to pounce on its prey. Sam opens his eyes and the creature stops midair. Sam stares at it hovering in front of him; at the monster that has cost him the only thing in the world he loves. The look of concentration vanishes as controlling his powers becomes as easy as taking a breath. The creature stares at him with cold emotionless inhuman black eyes and he stares back with vengeful hazel eyes. He feels not unlike Beowulf facing the monster Grendel.
A cruel smile graces Sam's lips as he flicks his head and the creature is sent flying into a tree, another flick crashes it into yet another tree, a sickening crack sounds as the creature's back breaks. Sam releases the beast from his hold and as it hits the ground a black cloud billows out of it. Sam raises his hand and the cloud appears to freeze in the air before it violently disintegrates. Sam's upper lip twitches once more with satisfaction.
There's an eerie silence on the air and Sam knows he's different now, more so than before. A new sensation coerces through his body. Every nerve in his body tingles with this new power….powers. He wipes away the trickle of blood from his nose, his lips curl into a sadistic smile, a deadly gleam coming to his eyes as he stares at the creature he has just killed. Now he can face the demon that's taken everything away from him. He's strong enough to seek his revenge. Without a second glace to Dean's lifeless body, Sam stalks away into the night, knowing exactly where he needs to be.
As Dean fights the darkness his vision is bombarded with a bright blue light.
That sure as hell can't be THE LIGHT because I know what dead feels like and this doesn't feel very much like dead, Dean thinks to himself as the light grows brighter.
"Come on, son, open your eyes," a voice calls to him. A voice he never thought he'd hear again.
"D-dad?" Dean's eyelids flutter, his vision blurry.
"That's right, Dean. C'mon, you have to wake up, Sammy needs you."
At the mention of his brother's name, Dean opens his eyes fully, sits up and looks around, the voice momentarily forgotten, "Sammy? Where is he?"
He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see his dad looking more alive and a little younger than he last remembers. His father smiles at him and his stomach churns because his instincts tell him something's very wrong. His dad rarely smiles, not since his mom died so now his dad's smiles warrant hesitation and with Sammy no where in sight, Dean's panic rises.
"What the hell's going on," Dean asks as he gets to his feet backing away from his dad, hand instinctively going to his chest where he distinctly remembers a branch being only moments ago. He expects to feel warm blood but instead his hand meets unmarked skin through the hole in his shirt. He turns to the tree he remembers hitting and sees the blood still dripping from the branch. He shudders momentarily. Yet again he's beaten death at its own game and yet again he feels like maybe he shouldn't have been so lucky.
He continues to look around. Dammit, Sammy where are you, he thinks to himself, as his eyes frantically search his surroundings for his baby brother, momentarily he forgets his not so deceased father. His eyes fall on the thing they'd been hunting, the thing that had thrown him into the tree. The thing's been killed and from the looks of its twisted, broken body, it's been killed violently and by much more than bare hand.
Could Sammy have done this? He didn't have anymore weapons…how could he have…oh god no.
Dean turns back to his dad and asks, "Ok, seriously, what the hell's going on?"
John walks to Dean, "Son, there really isn't enough time for me to explain everything. Just know that when I died…..because I sacrificed myself for you, I was made into a sort of guardian angel."
"Yeah, well, where's your wings?" Dean asks not caring that now wasn't the time to make smart ass remarks.
"Not all guardian angels have wings, Dean. Some of them are meant to protect those with special abilities, those who have the potential to have abilities and those who fight evil selflessly. I'm what is known as a Whitelighter. I was brought back to make sure that you and Sammy fulfill your destiny."
"Did you….fix me," Dean asks as he motions to his chest; his expression softens.
"Perks of the job, son," John says, a momentary twinkle comes to his eyes. The twinkle quickly fades and the stern expression returns, "Dean I can't explain it in detail, Sam needs you and there isn't much time."
Dean immediately puts his game face back on, "Dad, where is he?"
"He's gone, Dean. He thinks you're dead, that the Yellow-Eyed Demon caused it and…he's not himself anymore."
Dean steps closer, anger slowly builds, "What do you mean not himself?"
"When he saw you get hurt, he thought you'd died, that the Demon had finally taken everything he'd ever cared about away from him. That kind of emotion is powerful, son. So powerful that it triggered Sam's powers, powers that shouldn't have matured for years. Dean, you were the only thing on this earth keeping Sammy grounded, you have been since the day you carried him from that fire all those years ago. Now he's seeking revenge and if he succeeds, what I told you before I left will come to pass."
Dean clinches his jaw, "Where is he and how do I stop him?" He turns around, picks up his forgotten gun, and heads towards the car. John follows him.
"He's where we last faced the Demon and if you don't hurry, Sam will become what we hunt."
Dean stops and turns to face John. "No, not if I can help it." John grabs his arm and stops him. He spins him around so they meet eyes, "Dean, listen to me. Protect Sammy at all costs, son. All costs. It may be hard, but when the time comes you'll know what to do." And with that, he disappears in a flash of blue light.
Dean doesn't hesitate as he heads back to the Impala not really knowing whether or not it would still be there.
Dean sighs with relief as he makes out the shape of the Impala in the moonlight. When he gets to the Impala he grabs his duffle bag from the back, getting a new shirt before he throws it back into the backseat and jumps into the driver's seat. The engine roars to life and he's out of the woods and back on the road within minutes.
He can only guess that Sam has at the most an hour's advantage on him but that's still an hour that he's out of his sight. That's what bothers him the most. His brother is out of his sight because of his actions. If only he'd been more careful Sammy wouldn't be in the position he was in….and neither would he. He runs a hand through his hair. He didn't know how the hell Sammy is going to get to the Demon since he left the Impala behind but there is no telling the extent of these new powers and that scares him. He's only ever once admitted to Sam that this whole premonitions and grand demonic plan scared him and had it not been for the mind control, Sammy wouldn't have heard those words ever. No, he isn't afraid to tell Sam of what he knew….he is just afraid of how Sam would take it.
The last thing in the world he wants to do is hurt his brother, so as much as this secret has harmed him, he didn't and couldn't tell Sam. He kept it to himself, letting it eat away at him more and more each day. He covered his emotions up with grief at first but Sam wasn't stupid, he could tell something was up with him and if Dean was good at anything, he was good at lying. So he lied to Sam, hid his pain and misery behind jokes and smart ass remarks. He stayed strong for Sam, at least physically because mentally he was crumbling. He wanted so hard to protect Sam but he was so tired and it almost cost him his life and unless he got to Sam in time would cost him his family.
He floors it, not caring if there's any police out. He drives in silence because not even Zepplin can take his mind off of the task ahead of him. He has to get to Sammy before…well, he just has to get there. His father's words echo in his head. If he doesn't get to Sam before he get to the Demon then Dean will be faced with something he never in his wildest dream imagines: Hunting his own baby brother.
He has no clue what will become of Sam, what will make him become the hunted but he knows that when it comes to him and Sammy, his dad wouldn't lie to him. His dad had told him what could happen but Dean had never been sure how it would manifest. He grips the steering wheel tighter, so tight his ring begins to dig into his finger and the pain is a welcomed momentary distraction. Still yet, Dean isn't sure he can go through with anything. The one and only time he's ever hit his brother out of anger and not self defense still haunts him. The look of hurt and betrayal in Sam's eyes are forever burned into his memory. If it comes down to it, he will defend himself but the thought of having to defend himself against Sam pains him.
He'd practically raised Sam from an infant. When their dad was gone for days on a hunt, he took care of Sam, taking the role of father, big brother, protector and for 23 years he'd continued that, even when Sammy wasn't aware of it. Yeah, he'd told him of the times their dad had gone to Stanford to check on him, but he failed to mention that for every time their father went, he'd gone twice as many times and stayed twice as long. When he'd seen Sam with Jessica his heart swelled to see his brother so happy, something that he'd tried so hard to do continuously during their childhood. He'd watched and almost lived vicariously through his brother in those years. Sam was living the life Dean knew he'd never have, not because he couldn't but because he knew better. Sammy didn't need average-joe Dean, he needed hunter Dean. He needed the kind of big brother who could take down an enemy faster than he could tell you the latest sports scores.
Now he was wishing he was average-joe Dean because that Dean wouldn't be faced with the possibility of ending the life of the one person he'd loved more than life. Dean shakes his head. No, it wasn't going to get to that. He was going to get there just in time like he always has and rescue his baby brother. He got there just in time during the first fire, then the second, he'd always gotten there with just enough time to spare to grab Sam and run. He could do it again. Their dad said they had a destiny to fulfill and neither one of them could do that dead, so that had to mean he'd get there in time.
He knows he's close but still, Sam's closer. He can't let this end this way. He promised Sam that as long as he was around nothing would happen and by god he wasn't about to let it. He was still alive and he was still his brother's keeper.
He guns the engine once more and for the first time in his life, he prays for his brother's safety.
Sam stands a distance from the cabin. He sees a light in the window. He closes his eyes and concentrates and once more he feels that burning ache that's only grown stronger. For the first time since his visions started he can actually sense the demon. That's how he knew where to go. The closer he got to it the more intense the aching became but he welcomed it. He knows that tonight this will all end.
He opens his eyes and advances the cabin slowly and ignores the slight feeling of dread that came with being near this place again. Last time he had been here, a chain of events began that ended with Dean damn near dying and his dad being taken away from him. He pushes the feeling back and remembers that tonight he will avenge the death of all those he cares about…his mother….Jess….Pastor Jim and Caleb….his father…and now…now Dean. This would be for Dean.
He stands in front of the door and doesn't even try the doorknob. He flicks his head and the door is torn from its hinges. He walks into the living room to find it in the same shape it had been nearly a year ago. His eyes fall momentarily to the blood stains on the floor….his brother's blood smeared on the wall and the floor below….and his father's near the door.
"Alone, Sammy? I thought you were smarter than that," a voice taunts him.
He turns to see a darkened figure standing in the doorway, yellow eyes glaring back at him.
Sam glares as the darkened figure steps forward into the light to reveal a middle aged man. Sam's chest tightens for a brief moment at how much this man looks like his father; same eyes, same smile. But Sam knows the true demon has no solid form and for a brief moment he feels sorry for whomever this body once belonged to but that sympathy quickly passes as Sam realizes this man would be added to the long list of casualties this war had already claimed.
Sam stands his ground as the Demon steps closer, "So, where's your protector? I mean for the past year he's never left your side. Oh that's right, he won't be joining us tonight, will he Sammy? That brother of yours was really like a big obedient guard dog." The Demon pauses; a flicker of a smile crosses his lips, "Too bad I had to put him down. He got in the way like all the others. Although, I will say that as much as I enjoyed killing your father, who was definitely a thorn in my side for years, it was your brother I took the most amusement in killing."
Sam clinches his fists as the Demon continues, "I mean watching your mother and that girlfriend of yours burn…now that was entertaining….but watching your face when you found your brother impaled, priceless. Yeah, I promised your dad that I wouldn't kill Dean, but your dad was dumb enough to actually think I'd keep that promise. Of course I brought Dean back. I wanted to find a better way of punishing him for killing my children. And punish you for defying me this long."
Sam begins to shake as his anger builds, "Well, I'm not going to defy you any longer. Now it's time for you to burn." Sam flicks his head and the Demon is thrown across the room into a bookshelf. He stands, brushing himself off, "Honestly Sammy, with the powers I made sure you had, and I'd expect more from you." Suddenly Sam is the one thrown across the room. He lands hard and rolls until he collides with the wall.
"Get up Sammy! Did you know that when I pinned your girlfriend to the ceiling she was screaming your name. Oh it was such a horrible racket, but it stopped the moment I ripped her belly open."
Sam gets to his feet and sneers. Once more he flicks his head and once more the Demon tumbles, only this time, the vengeful look has returned to Sam's eyes and he advances on the Demon. Before he can get up, the Demon is once more thrown violently. This time his recovery is slower but as he gets to his feet Sam stops, glares at him, and pins him to the very wall Dean had been pinned to a little under a year ago.
The Demon continues with its taunts, "And your mother…she begged me to leave you alone. What is it with the women you Winchester men love? They just won't shut their traps."
A trickle of blood starts to fall from the Demon's nose. "Your father didn't beg for his life only for the life of his children. As gullible as he was, I respected your father's skill and dedication. Your brother, though, oh, how he became an issue. I should have seen it. All those years of protecting you and you never even thanked him. You abandoned him and yet he still protected you, even when you didn't know it. No matter what you did to him or said to him, he continued protecting you…like he lived off of it. Guess he died from it too. I was right, Sammy, you never needed him…not like he needed you."
"Shut up you evil son of a bitch," Sam says, his voice stern, void of any emotion.
The Demon smirks. He's breaking through Sam's exterior. He can basically taste the power coming from him now, so much stronger than before, but something still misses. There's still one final task for him to complete before he has become what he was destined to become.
"Yes, you are the reason he died tonight. For twenty three years he protected you and when the time came you couldn't even protect yourself long enough to keep him alive."
"Shut up," Sam screams, which causes the Demon to flinch as a crushing wave hits him.
Sam knows he's letting the Demon's words get to him. That's how the Demon works. He finds a chink in your armor and works his way in until you're powerless. The more the Demon talked the more doubt and guilt crept into Sam. The Demon was wrong. He had needed Dean. No, maybe it wasn't in the same way Dean needed him and their dad, but he still needed him nonetheless. It sounded silly but when Dean was around, Sam felt safe, secure, like nothing natural or supernatural could harm him. All those years, growing up with Dean as his protector had left Sam with a need to know Dean was there for him. Yeah he wanted to escape the life their dad had made for them, but he also wanted to make Dean proud of him. When he'd gotten the full ride to Stanford he had rushed home to tell Dean. He never expected Dean's reaction to be anger and disappointment. He's thought Dean would be proud of him, not accuse him of abandoning him. In that moment he'd shut that need for Dean off. The one person he'd wanted most in the world to be proud of him had turned his back on him. The next years had been rough. He'd gotten so used to having Dean by his side, protecting him, that when he no longer had it, he felt empty.
Then came Jessica. He'd fallen in love with her from the moment he laid eyes on her and for the short time they were together that emptiness was gone. Yeah, he had to lie to her, but he'd been raised to lie and as much as it killed him, he never told her about his family because in that moment, she was his family. Then once more, this bastard took his family away from him. But then, even after the harsh words exchanged years before, Dean rushed in, once more protecting him. No, he couldn't protect him from everything but he at least tried.
Sam looks at the Demon whom he has helplessly pinned to the wall. "You took everything I ever loved away from me! Why?"
"Because they got in the way. If I got rid of your mother…your girlfriend….your father…and your protector, then…then you were truly mine."
Sam steps closer and concentrates. He raises the Demon off the ground, but keeps him pinned to the wall.
"I will never be yours."
"That's where you're wrong. You became mine the moment I pinned your dear 'ol mommy to that ceiling and you will in one way or another always be mine."
Sam clinches his jaw. The Demon suddenly hisses with pain as blood begins pouring from his chest, much the same way it had with Dean when the Demon had attacked him. Retribution for a crime left unpunished.
Even as his blood begins to puddle on the floor, the Demon laughs, "You were my most prized possession. I knew you were more powerful than all the other children...knew you were the greatest leader, the soldier...the murderer...now, fulfill your destiny. Do what you were born to do Sammy. Kill me and become what I knew you always were..."
Sam doesn't let him finish. He angrily screams and the Demon bursts into flames, incinerating both Demon and Host. Sam watches with satisfaction as the Demon slowly dies. He ignores the smell of burnt flesh because he knows that now, it is truly over.
As the charred remnants of the Demon fall to the ground Sam gasps. The ache in his head comes back, but far stronger than before, pulsating more violently than before. He grabs hold of his head. It feels like that with each pulsation, a little more of him is lost.
Sam can swear he hears Dean's voice calling his name before his thoughts are clouded by darkness and a flash of yellow blinds him.
It takes Dean 45 minutes to finally get to the cabin. He can see lights on and his heart sinks when he sees that the door is torn from its hinges. He steps out of the car and places his gun in the back of his jeans.
He hears his brother scream and in that moment his big brother instincts override his hunter instincts as he races away from the car and rushes the door. He's frozen as he sees what appears to be a man pinned to the wall being burned alive. Sam is standing in front of him, unmoving. Dean can do nothing but watch as his brother murders this person. Flashes of memory haunt him as he realizes he'd been pinned to that very wall a year ago.
Suddenly Sam gasps and grabs hold of his head. "Sam!" Dean calls to his brother but stands his ground. Every fiber in him is screaming, begging for him to grab Sam, make sure he's ok, but something's wrong. Something's so very wrong.
Dean takes a step forward when Sam straightens back up, releasing his head. "Sam?" Sam doesn't move so Dean steps closer and reaches out his hand to take Sam's shoulder. "Sammy?"
Before his hand touches Sam, he turns around and what Dean sees causes him to stumble back a few steps. He looks into his brother's eyes and his stomach churns as eyes of demonic yellow not hazel glare back at him. And Dean knows he's arrived too late, he's failed, and the demon's won. Sam's eyes are the same as the Demon who had taken everything away from him: his mom, his dad, and now his brother. This is what their father had meant. This is what the demon had planned all along for Sammy. Sam was to become the demon's predecessor and something to be hunted.
Sam starts towards Dean and Dean takes another step back as he draws the gun he'd brought with him.
Sam smiles and Dean's heart begins to race as his mind tries to tell him that it's not his Sam smiling it's the thing that took him away. "C'mon Dean, we both know that won't kill me….not now anyways."
Dean tightens his grip on his gun and tries his best to put up his best front. Emotions are not something he needs to battle with right now. He needs to be cold, heartless….but oh god, that's his baby brother in there.
He takes a deep breath through his nose and replies, voice husky, "No, but it will hurt like hell." As he tries to pull the trigger his brain and his heart rage a separate battle. His brain is telling him that this isn't Sam; to kill him, end it all and avenge his family….but his heart is pleading with him; telling him this IS his family, his little brother, his Sammy.
This brief hesitation is all Sam needs to strike. He waves his hand and Dean goes flying into a wall, gun flying from his hand. Dean lands hard in to the remains of the already destroyed bookcase. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a momentary flash of blue and feels something solid in his hand, something not made of wood, but instead metal. Dean's heart sinks as his thumb traces the engraving of a pentagram. He knows what's in his hand and he knows what he's meant to do with it too. It's come to this far too soon for him.
He tries to stand but Sam flicks his wrist and he feels himself be pinned to where he sits, "Sammy, I know you're in there. Fight this, you aren't evil. You can beat this."
"Oh Dean, would you shut up! All you ever did was run your trap. Will you just shut up and realize that your Sam's not in here anymore," Sam taps his head, "Oh no, he's long gone because he was weak. I'm a new form of your Sam: stronger and more powerful than you ever imagined. Now, big brother, now I can protect others like me. All these years that thing," he points to the charred remains of the Demon, "reigned over us, taking away the things we loved, haunting us, raping our minds to make us submissive. No more! Now I can finally be the protector."
Sam starts to pace and takes a deep breath, "I can sense all of them Dean, every last one of the special children. Hell I can practically smell their power. There's so many of them, so much uncapped potential. Can you imagine the army I can build? If I find all of them, unite them, then we'd never have to worry about something like that thing coming after us. No one will stand in our way this time." He pauses and puts his hands on his hips, "Dean, you should be proud of me. You always wanted me to be something special. Now I am."
Dean feels the pressure being released from him and sees Sam's expression soften, which creeps him out considering those yellow eyes are still staring at him. Sam steps closer to Dean, "You are proud of me aren't you? I killed the thing that killed mom, Jess, Dad. Why aren't you proud of me?"
Dean tightens his grip on the cool metal, "Sammy, you killed an innocent man."
Sam shakes his head, "No, he wasn't innocent. He was a casualty of war! Don't you see! We're in a war, Dean, and he was a casualty. Hell, so were you. I'm still trying to figure out how you're here."
Dean smirks, "I have my connections."
Sam squats in front of Dean, "Dean, I'm glad you're ok. I want you by my side through all this. I need a loyal second in command and you can be that for me. I can't do this without you. This war can go for our side. We can get rid of all those whoever opposed us. Once they're all dead, we'll rule."
"Sam, no, this isn't you. This is that thing talking. C'mon Sam, you couldn't fight in a war, you have to stop before more innocent people die."
Sam shakes his head and laughs as he stands, "You don't get it, do you, Dean? We stopped being innocent the day mom died. We're impure, Dean, and those innocent people have persecuted my kind for too long. They will die for what they've done."
Dean sighs. His father's words begin to echo in his mind, "Protect Sammy at all costs, son. All costs. It may be hard, but when the time comes you'll know what to do."
Sam's expression flashes pain for a moment as he clinches his eyes shut. He holds on to his head and opens his eyes…his hazel eyes. He looks at Dean, eyes pleading, "Dean please stop me…don't let this thing go through with it…end-" Hazel fades into yellow. Sam tilts his head, "Sorry, moment of weakness won't happen again."
Dean knows what he has to do now. "Ok, Sam, I'll do it, but only because you're my little brother and I promised to watch out for you."
Sam smiles and starts towards Dean. He sticks out his hand to help Dean to his feet; "Knew you'd come to my rescue." Sam pulls Dean to his feet but doesn't see the glint of metal in his hand.
"What are big brothers for, Sammy," Dean sadly says as he raises the newly found colt and fires the remaining bullet straight into Sam's chest.
As the bullet enters Sam's chest, a shockwave knocks both men back away from one another. Dean lands roughly on the ground, but it's the growing ache in his chest that immobilizes him. If Dean ever had a devil and an angel on his shoulder, the angel would be screaming at him while the devil would be laughing. Dean closes his eyes, the colt weighing heavy in his hand.
Oh god…oh god I shot him. I shot Sam, Dean thinks to himself as his grip on the colt tightens painfully.
A scream forms deep in his throat as he sits up and throws the colt across the room. Tears begin to burn his eyes as he clinches his jaw, not daring to look at Sam's prone form, not wanting the image of what he's done burned into his memory as it was burned into his soul.
Dean manages to regain his motor skills further and gets to his knees, his head in his hands as he tries to gather himself. Things were never supposed to go down like this. His brain and hunter instincts are telling him to run away and cut his losses, but his heart and brotherly instincts are begging him to stay and give Sammy's body a proper send off. He can't abandon his brother not when-
Suddenly Dean hears a bubbling gasp and his eyes dart to Sammy to see the black smoke of the Demon leave Sam and violently disappear. It's the final curtain call. Sam coughs and gasps. Dean rushes him. He falls to his knees beside of Sam, protectively cradling him much like he had 23 years prior, only this time the fire's consumed them both. Blood is pouring freely from the wound in Sam's chest and it amazes Dean he's still alive considering the blood covering his once light blue plaid shirt. Dean's hand hovers over the wound, hesitating for a moment afraid to make contact, afraid to add to the pain he's caused. After another beat, he presses his hand to the wound trying to slow the steady flow. Hand rising and falling with each ragged breath Sam takes. Dean looks at his hand on Sam's chest and wills it to keep rising and falling.
"Oh god, Sammy, I'm so sorry," Dean pleads, emotion making his voice gruff and thick.
Sam swallows hard, his complexion paling, lips tinged with blood. "Not your fault. You did what I asked…what you….," he pauses, trying to gather what little strength he has left. "Dean…I'm proud of you. You were a good big brother…..you saved me."
His eyelids flutter as he fades. Dean's hold tightens, his hand rising and falling even slower than before. "No, Sammy! J-just fight a little longer. I'll get you help."
Sam's eyes open a little as he softly speaks, "Tired, Dean…..tired of fighting."
Dean's hand falls as Sam exhales.
Dean franticly shakes his head, "Please, Sam, don't leave me."
His hand doesn't rise.
He sits there, for once speechless. He pulls Sam to him, one arm wrapping around his brother as the other hand pulls Sam's head to his chest. Dean buries his face in Sam's hair and cries.
The war has ended and its lone survivor cries out in grief.
Dean begins to rock Sam's body. The outside world is no more to him. His little world, for the moment, only consists of him, Sam, and his grief. He doesn't notice the flash of blue behind him.
John looks down at him sadly, "Dean." Dean turns his face up to him and John frowns. Dean looks like a lost little kid, hands desperately grasping at Sam's peaceful form.
Dean's voice refuses to work at first, but finally he speaks. "Fix him, dad."
John's frown deepens, "I can't son. It doesn't work like that."
Dean shakes his head, pulling Sam's body closer to him, "No, you fixed me, now fix him!"
John puts his hand on Dean's shoulder, as he crouches beside his son, "I can't, Dean. I'm sorry, son, but he's gone….there's nothing left to bring back. You weren't dead when I healed you, there was still time. There's no more time for Sammy."
Dean pushes John away, anger overtaking grief, "No! This is your fault! You gave me the colt! You made me do this to him. How could you make me do this? I was supposed to protect him. You have to fix him. You have to bring him back, work your hoodoo on him. I can't…I…I-" He bows his head, tears falling to the ground, mingling with the blood already seeping into the wood. "I can't do this alone. I can't do this without Sammy. Dad, I'm sorry. I told you I'd protect him. I failed….I got him killed. God, dad, I killed him!"
John once more puts a hand on Dean's shoulder, "No, son, you saved him. This was your destiny."
Dean looks up at him in disgust, "What kind of fucked up destiny is that? I've protected him all my life only to be destined to kill him. Damn it, Dad, he was my brother! I loved him! That's not fair." The hand holding Sam's head starts to rub his hair like he used to do when Sam was little and would have a nightmare. It comforted him enough that he'd go back to sleep. Dean stops himself and gently lays Sam on the floor. Sam was gone now….there was no one left to comfort.
John squeezes Dean's shoulder, "Dean I know it doesn't seem fair but through you, Sam can fulfill his destiny. I wish I could explain it all, but I can't, not now at least Dean. I'm so sorry I had to put this on you, but you were the only one who could do it; the only one who could love Sam enough to end it…..and begin the next chapter in your lives."
With that John stands and with another flash of blue leaves, Dean doesn't see the slight smile that comes to John's lips.
Dean sits there for what seems like an eternity just staring at Sam's face. If he didn't know better, if he could block the dark red of the blood out of his mind, he'd believe Sam was asleep. For once, since this whole mess started, his little brother is at peace.
Dean stands and grunts as he takes hold of his brother's body. He carries him to the closest bedroom, lays him on the bed and walks back to the Impala. He yet again changes his shirt, keeping the blood stained one in his hand as he grabs what he needs and heads back in, and drops the shirt as he enters. He'd rather bury his brother with his mother but just like before he can't face his mother's grave, knowing the things he's done, the people he'd killed – sacrificed for the greater good. He can't face his mother's grave knowing that he's the reason his brother's dead. He tilts the gasoline can and soaks everything in the room. He hesitates on Sam before deciding not to pour it on him. He puts the can down and goes to Sam. He leans down and brushes the hair from Sam's face and kisses his forehead, tears threatening to fall once more as he pulls away.
"Goodbye, Sammy. I love you little brother. I'm…" Dean stops himself and leaves the room and tosses his lit lighter and sets the fire. Unlike his father's funeral pyre, he can't stand and watch. Without a second glance at the blazing cabin he gets into his car and drives away.
It's almost a half an hour later before he catches something out of the corner of his eye. In the passenger seat is Sam's laptop and phone. Dean swerves the car off the road and comes to a gravel slinging stop on the side. His breathing becomes heavier. He grits his teeth and hits the steering wheel, again, again, thrice before the tears overwhelm him once more. He lays his head on the steering wheel and cries.
It is several minutes before the tears stop. Dean's exhausted and he feels – knows he'll never cry again, never feel again….not without Sam. Now all he has to live for is the hunt. He closes his eyes and realizes he's slowly becoming Gordon Walker. Gordon had told him that in the end he'd kill Sam….god he never wanted that sick bastard to be right. He rubs his face. No, he couldn't let that happen. Neither his dad nor Sammy would have wanted that to happen to him.
He doesn't look at the passenger's seat as he grabs his phone and dials the first number that comes to mind, Missouri.
The phone rings twice before there's the familiar click of someone answering. Before Dean can speak he hears Missouri take a deep, shaky breath. "Oh, child. I'm so sorry. You come home, you here me? You come and let me help you." Dean doesn't answer and Missouri continues, "Child, you don't have to say anything. You've been through something…" She takes another shaky breath and Dean swears he hears a second voice.
Missouri comes back and her tone is changed, "Dean, we need to talk. There are things you don't know, things you wouldn't believe, but come here and all will become clear to you." And without another word, Missouri hangs up and Dean's once more alone. He puts the phone down and drives. He's got 4 hours of driving ahead of him and he's not slept in two days….and he knows sleep will not come to him for a long time. Throughout the years, few things he's seen have bothered him. Years of hunting have hardened him but every so often something he sees – does – haunts him. This will be with him for the rest of his life. His father died for him, his brother died by his hands. That's not something you get over with the help of a few strong drinks. Dean reaches down and turns the radio on.
"Fire of unknown origin took my baby away!"
He quickly turns the radio off and drives the rest of the way in silence.
Twelve hours later he pulls up in front of Missouri's house, a little worse for wear. Exhaustion had caught up to him midway and he'd had to stop. He tried to get a few hours sleep but the moment he fell asleep his dreams were riddled with images of Sammy….of his own hands soaked in his brother's blood. He rubs his hands down his face feeling rougher than normal stubble. He sighs, opens the car door and heads to the house.
He gets to the door and it opens before his knuckles can meet the wood. Missouri frowns as she hugs him.
"Come in, child."
Dean nods and follows her. He sits down and rubs his hands together. "Missouri…"
"He's at peace, Dean. Sam's proud of you."
"Don't say that."
"Dean-"
"No!" How can he be proud of me? I promised to protect him, told him that nothing bad would happen to him while I was around and I….I fucking kill him!"
"Boy, watch your language in my house;" Missouri says sternly, "You don't know the half of it."
Dean scoffs, "Don't know the half of it? I know enough. I know dad's a frikkin guardian angel who can save me but not Sam. I didn't deserve that. I've cheated death too many times. Sam should have lived but he's….I…" Dean let out a shaky breath through his mouth before clinching his jaw.
Missouri frowns and puts her hand on Dean's, "Like I said…you only know the half of it. Just like yours, Sam's story isn't over."
Dean shakes his head and stands, "Missouri, I killed Sam…I burned his body! There's no more story to tell, damn it! I killed my brother and he'll never forgive me. He can't and I'm alone…that's how this story ends."
"Not quite," a voice from behind him says. Dean slowly turns. His eyes go wide as he stares at the sight in front of him, something that 12 hours ago he knew he'd never see: A very much alive Sam.
"S-Sammy?"
Sam grins and puts his hands in his pockets, "Yeah Dean…it's me."
Dean starts to back away and says, "No, it can't be you. I-I'm being punished for what I've done." He storms from the room.
Right as he gets to the door, Sammy materializes in front of him with a bright blue flash. He puts his hands out blocking Dean.
"Dude, stop! It really is me."
"You're….you're-"
Sam smiles, "Yeah…I'm a white lighter, now. Guess what we were doing really did make a difference."
"Sammy, it can't be. I watched you die…burned your body. I don't deserve to get you back," Dean says as he pushes him away and momentarily hesitates when he realizes the body he pushed away was solid.
"It can't be you, Sammy. I don't deserve this, not after what I've done."
Dean turns from Sam's pleading eyes to leave another way. This time he is blocked by Missouri. She looks at him and sternly says, "Dean Winchester, listen to me. Will you please stop and realize what you're trying to walk away from? Child, you've been given something many only dream of: a chance to get back the family they've lost."
She walks up to him, takes his face in her hands and whispers to him, "You would be a fool to turn away the brother you sacrificed your entire life for. He is as real as you are and the only family you have left, so stop this because after everything, you deserve to be happy." She lets go of his face and silently takes her leave to the next room.
Dean closes his eyes. "Dean?" he hears Sam ask behind him. He takes a shuddering breath and faces Sam. Sam gives a hesitant smile, "Jerk…"
Dean sniffs, emotions calming as a small smile creeps to his lips as he replies. "Bitch."
Sam's smile broadens, dimples coming to his cheeks as he rushes Dean. For once Dean doesn't mind the obvious chick-flick moment and lets Sam envelope him in a hug. He can't help but laugh. For being the little brother, Sam towers over him and easily smothers him as his long limbs wrap around Dean's smaller frame. Sam joins in the laughter as he pulls away.
"Dean you're getting soft in your old age."
Dean playfully punches Sam in the arm, "Shut up, Sammy….at least I'm not my own night light."
Sam smiles, turns away from Dean and heads towards where Missouri went. Dean watches him with a smile, maybe his destiny wasn't to bury his family and fight the rest of his life alone. Maybe he was meant to fight with his family always by his side, never truly alone. Sam pokes his head back out of the door he'd just walked through, "Dean, you comin'? We've got plans to make. We have to figure out where to go next."
Dean smiles, "You know, Sammy, I'm still thinking Vegas."
And for the first time in Dean's 27 years, life is good.
The End