There By the Grace of God We Go:

"Maybe if you actually took the time to get to know him a little bit you wouldn't think he was anything like Lucifer!" Sam slammed his open palm on the table.

"He's the Devil's kid! I sound like a freaking broken record. How many times do I have to remind you HE'S LUCIFER'S SON!" Dean smashed a beer bottle over one of the garbage cans.

"Oh, yeah! You think I don't know that? You think that I don't know about Lucifer's evil? ME?!

Really, Dean?! I SPENT 120 FRIGGIN TIME LOOPING YEARS IN HELL WITH THAT BASTARD!" Sam's nose was bleeding now he was so worked up.

Dean drew back like he'd been slapped. That was the first time Sam had ever actually outright confessed the actual "time" duration in the Cage to Dean.

"You...What?" Dean swallowed, feeling his legs turn to jelly beneath him.

"No, okay...Really, no. I'm not doin' that now. You hate Jack? Fine. Just don't kill him until I get back." Sam shook his head, wiped his nose, winced, and pulled on his jacket all at once.

"Where are you going?" Dean suddenly deeply regretted this fight and it was barely even over.

"I just...I need some air. Okay? I'll be back in a little while. And I know, don't touch your car. Don't worry about it. I'll take one of the bikes." Sam tossed his head, snatching up his wallet and storming toward the stairs.

"Sam?" Dean's voice was already apologetic but Sam was evidently too upset to care.

"I'm serious. Don't do anything to the kid, got it?! If you really want to have a problem with me, you do just that." Sam slammed the door behind him.

Dean stood in the echoing wake of his little brother's words. He felt his stomach clench. They'd had thousands of fights. Obviously, they were brothers. But that felt different. Sam was more hurt than he should have been from just a normal argument.

Dean settled into the silence wondering where Sam was. He thought about calling him but realized that would probably piss him off more. Then he started to worry if he'd flashback like he used to when they were younger and the Cage was mentioned. Dean felt near to tears then. Oh, God. What had he done?

Just then he heard Jack's voice cry out.

"No!"

Worrying a demon had gotten in to try to make off with the Nephilim, Dean stormed guns blazing into the kid's room.

"Whoa-oh, hey! What the-?" Dean flinched when he saw the boy was just having a nightmare.

Dean stood there looking down at the thrashing young hybrid. There was an instant and uninvited flashback. Of Sam, about 22-years-old, thrashing like that in the throes of many nightmares that followed Jessica's death.

Dean felt his hand go out to comfort the kid as if he was Sam.

"Hey...Hey, uh, kid. Wake up. It's not...It's cool." Dean touched Jack's flailing hand. All of the sudden, he was yanked into the most graphic, horrific dream that had ever been.

"Of course I can do blood magic, idiot! I invented it. Michael's as good as a jailbreak. Maybe that'll finally, you know, call it square. And you can have Dean back. Granted, you'll watch me torture him forever and ever and ever-have to get even with you, you know, since I can't get out ever again. But you won't be alone and he won't have to know it's because you asked to get off my rack. He woulda did the same, I'd bet if the stories I heard about his little tour down here are true.

I have to have consent from you, Sam. Red tape and all that! And if you refuse, well, that's gonna cost you...Like, climb into my next fun little rat trap and let me turn your bones into jelly kinda cost ya." Lucifer snickered, wearing Sam's face now. The dream was clearly from Sam's perspective, even though Jack was the one dreaming.

"You can be rid of this pain, boy. As my real vessel, Dean's blood is definitely powerful enough to do that. You and Dean are blood brothers, so yours works to call out to his. But angel magic needs consent. No need to suffer alone forever. Don't you want to see your brother? Because you know, if you don't, that's fine. It's just...we'll be sure to make you pay for it." Michael purred from a corner, desperate. Dean felt Sam's blistered eyes move to Michael.

Sam swallowed. Dean was trying to reach him, keep him from doing this.

"What the hell is wrong with you guys? You stupid or somethin'? Asking me to do that to my brother? It's not like you'd keep your end of the deal anyway. You'd keep torturing me too. No way in Hell I'm letting you magic Dean down here! This rat trap, how do I play?"

Dean was snapped out of it. Something about his hand on Jack's hand had comforted the baby Nephilim and he'd been roused from the nightmare into a different dream he didn't let Dean see.

Dean stared at the sleeping half-angel kid for about 20 minutes before he stumbled out of the room in shock.

Was that...That couldn't be real, could it?

How the heck would Jack have dreamed about the Cage otherwise?

Dean went into the study. He poured a stiff bit of whiskey.

An hour went by with Dean slowly getting skunked. Finally, he could take no more of it. He called Sam.

"What?" Sam's voice was waspish even in the grainy reception of the phone.

To Dean's shock, he heard the sounds of a bar behind Sam.

"You good to drive?"

"What's it to you?

Ouch.

"Because I need you to come home."

"Oh, you need me to come home. What so are you like my parole officer now? Forget it-I'm…"

"Sammy...Please come home." Dean let out a cracked sob around those words. Sam paused, listening.

"Wait...Are you okay?! Did something happen?" Sam's voice had immediately softened.

"Not..not exactly. But...Look, man, I'm sorry about...Please. Please just come home, Sam. I need to talk to you and I can't do it over the phone." Dean coughed, took a long swill of the drink.

"I'm at Mickey's down on 9th. I'm about 20 minutes out. Can it wait that long?" Sam sounded nervous.

"Uhuh, look there's no trouble here. The kid's fine. Everything's good. I just...Please...I need to ask you something and I...I really am sorry about earlier...I didn't…"Dean is crying now, God help him. Sam made a soft sound of realization over the phone.

"This is about what I said right before I left?"

"Kinda...yeah, kinda."

"Okay, I'm coming."

Dean paced the entire time he waited. Finally, the door to the stair cage opened. Sam slinked in like a teenager caught out past curfew.

Dean turned to face him, choosing not to hide the fact he'd been crying. Sam paused at the landing, studying him as if he was weighing his response to that. His face was pinched with sudden regret about their fight.

"It...Probably wudn't fair to drop a bombshell like that on you that...uhh...gruffly. I'm sorry, man." Sam pushed his hair out of his eyes, laughing nervously.

"Mm…"Dean nodded to the table. He could barely stand up.

They sat down together, Sam's eyes wide with worry. Dean swallowed, tapping his knuckles against the table.

"If I ask you a loaded question, you gonna be straight with me?" Dean looked up, trying to keep a straight face. He felt like screaming. Sam nodded, uncertain.

"Okay, so I...When you left, the kid had a nightmare. I thought demons got him. So, I went in there to see what he was making racket for. I tried to wake him up. When he touched me, I saw what he was dreamin' bout." Dean swallowed. Sam's jaw dropped.

"Oh, God...If he overheard me, then...?" Sam's lips were trembling. Dean nodded, slowly.

"Sam...In his dream, he was you. Lucifer and Michael were trying to make a deal with you. Lucifer could use blood magic to get Michael out but suck me in there. He said he'd stop torturing you if you gave the needed consent to like use your blood for the spell or whatever…"Dean talked extremely quietly and gravelly. The mist in Sam's eyes was already confirming his fear, but he had to hear him say it to know it was true.

"Is...Uhh...Did that...Did that really happen?" Dean swallowed and shoved his fist to his mouth.

Sam was crying now. Tears, splashing down his face. He nodded ever so slowly.

"I would never….I'd never agree to that. I swear. That place...What they meant to do...It was too horrible, Dean. Too horrible…" Sam gulped. Dean let out a shaky breath, getting dizzy.

"And when were you gonna tell me? Tell me...that you...um...that you did that?" Dean was clinging to his shot glass so hard now he was cracking it.

"Listen, Dean….I...uhh…"

"Tell me the truth, Sammy." Dean looked up ever so slowly, face resigned to the answer.

"I...I wasn't. It ...I didn't want you to know about it. I never wanted you to know anything about that...That place." Sam looked away, cupping his mouth in his hand.

"God! What the hell have I done? What if Jack saw other things? Opening my damned stupid mouth, I shouldn't- I shouldn't have…"Sam was shaking now.

Dean reached over and turned Sam to look at him. He was crying again too, and couldn't talk for a second.

"You weren't going to tell me that you saved me from the Cage?" Dean swallowed. Sam cringed.

"Please don't...Don't get like pissed or whatever. If you knew...you couldn't change it and-Well, you'd just feel bad about it and I…" Sam bowed his head. Dean tilted his face back up by his chin. Finally, Dean, exasperated, stood up.

"Come here…"His voice was barely audible. Sam tried to look away from him again,

"Come here, Sam."Dean's voice was a little louder now. Finally, Sam got up and went into his brother's arms. He laid his head on Dean's shoulder and cried like a baby at the memories that were bleeding back.

Dean nodded and pulled back after a while, taking Sam's face in either hand.

"You...You saved me. You never told me, but you did. Sam, what are you crying for, huh? Shh, please don't cry. I'm sorry...If I'da known that...So many things I've said to you since...I'd never have...Sam?I'm sorry, little brother, really…"Dean kissed his brother's forehead. Sam flinched, and whimpered, but leaned into it anyway. Dean thumbed his tears off.

"I...Whoa...Dude, I'm never...I'm not gonna ever know what to say to that...Never gonna get my head around it." Dean cringed. Sam nodded.

"Well, then don't. If I had to do it again, I would. It's...you know, I'm okay. It's just, Jack. I don't...He doesn't have to be like his Dad, Dean. He doesn't." Sam bowed his head, tears splashing into Dean's palms.

Dean nodded.

"Okay, I...If you...after everything...think you can help the kid, then fine. I won't say nothing else. Come on...Please...I could keel over, man. Why don't we watch TV? Until one of us dozes off from our wretched drunken ways…"Dean wrapped an arm around Sam...leading him rag doll limp to their den where he'd set up an old TV.

Neither one fell asleep. And Dean couldn't get out the words I love you...I'm sorry you suffered like that. Thank you. But his heart said them. Sam understood. He leaned against his brother's shoulder in complete silence for hours, never once regretting what he'd done. And just like that, fight or no fight, against Hell and Heaven and Fate itself, they were just brothers again.