A Conversation with the Future
Dean had never felt so tired. He had been running on adrenaline from the time Sam had…Even now, he couldn't bear thinking or reliving when Sam had died without it causing his heart to literally ache. He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. As exhausted as he felt, he couldn't sleep. After they had closed the Devil's Gate and had killed the demon that had plagued their lives, Dean had felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from him. He and Sam had watched as their father emerged from Hell to rescue them both then disappearing into a flash of blinding light. The wordless moment between them had been bittersweet, but, for Dean, it had also been cathartic. He had been carrying the burden of their father's secret for so long. Telling Sam about it hadn't completely freed him from the responsibility that had come with it. In his eyes, failing to save Sam from Jake was his greatest defeat. No amount of rationalizing could ease what he had felt was a dereliction of his duty, to take care of Sam, to protect him, to make sure he was always safe, to save him. It had been his job from the moment Sam had been born, cemented on that night when he had carried Sam out of their burning house, watching it, his mother, and his dreams die in the flames. Having their father save him from the demon had been the closure Dean had needed. Their father had smiled and had placed his strong hand on his shoulder. Only then did Dean allow himself to fully exhale again. In his father's eyes he had seen and felt his approval for his choice. Dean had done his job and had done it well.
When Sam had confronted him about what he had done, Dean had felt the tension return. Though it heartened him to hear Sam declare that it was his job to take care of Dean, that there was nothing he wouldn't do for him and that he would get him out of the deal no matter what it took, Dean knew that there would be no "get out of Hell free" card for him. Dean was pretty sure there wouldn't be a way for Sam to get him out. He didn't think the crossroads demon would agree to any kind of deal to save his soul. She had made that crystal clear and, for him, ironclad. In his mind, the Winchester family had cashed in all the deals they were going to get. He was okay with that. He didn't want Sam to sell his soul for him. He was at peace with what he had done, but he knew Sam never would be. Dean knew that he would have to work on bringing Sam to some kind of acceptance before he clocked out of this world.
After the battle, everyone had felt wasted and they had agreed they would all head back to Bobby's. Essentially everyone, except for Bobby, was homeless. Ellen had lost everything when the Roadhouse had been burned to the ground and Sam and Dean weren't relishing checking into another dingy motel. Bobby had offered his home to them and they took it with gratitude. On the drive there though, Dean could sense Sam's determined mind cranking away, anxious to get there so that he could pore through Bobby's books and begin researching a way to get Dean out of the deal. Thankfully, the ordeal of the battle had taken its toll on Sam and he had finally fallen asleep. Dean was able to drive in silence, alone with his own thoughts.
As soon as they had arrived, everyone had headed to a room to crash for the night. Dean had feigned going to bed, but once he heard Sam snoring away, he got up and stepped outside to sit in one of Bobby's lawn chairs. He took in a deep breath of the cool night air then stared up into the night sky, wondering if their dad was up there, watching them, happy and free. It brought a smile to his face thinking that maybe their dad had finally found peace. He'd be willing to take their dad's place in Hell to give him that peace. Their father had earned it.
As Dean allowed the still, night air to ease his mind and body to, hopefully, bring some sleep to him, he heard someone rustling inside the house. He turned to where the noise had come from and hoped that it wasn't Sam. As much as he hated thinking that, he really needed the space to just not think about anything for a little while. He then heard the footsteps head towards the backdoor. When the door opened, Bobby walked out with two bottles of beer in his hands. He handed Dean one bottle then took a seat in a nearby chair.
"What the hell are you doing up?" Bobby asked as he settled into the chair.
"I could ask you the same thing," Dean teased as he twisted the cap off his bottle.
"When you get to be my age, sleep is optional," Bobby quipped back as he took a swig from his beer.
Dean smiled and paused for a minute then gazed out into the night, looking at nothing in particular as he took a draw from his beer.
"You couldn't have stopped me," Dean said abruptly.
"What?" Bobby asked, taken slightly aback.
"You couldn't have stopped me from saving Sam, for making that deal. Even if you had stayed, I'd have probably clocked you and made the deal anyway. It's not your fault."
Bobby looked at Dean and couldn't help feeling tears well up in his eyes. He had wondered whether it would have made a difference if he hadn't left Dean. It had never occurred to him that Dean would go so far to get Sam back. He understood now never to underestimate the lengths to which these boys would go for each other.
"I really was an ass to you. I'm sorry. You've always been there for us and you didn't deserve that." Dean trailed off then took in a breath.
"Nothing to be sorry for, Dean. You were hurting in the worst way. I can understand that. More than you know," Bobby revealed. "I just wish –"
"That I hadn't thought so little of my life?" Dean said with a slight smile.
Bobby stalled for a second because he had so much as told Dean that when he had found out what Dean had done.
"I was desperate. I'd have done anything, made any deal, died on the spot if it had meant having Sam alive again. It was all I could think about. I wasn't thinking about what would happen to me. Not really. But I've had time to think about it and I'm okay with it."
Bobby's eyes grew wide with disbelief at Dean's statement.
"Dean Winchester, how can you POSSIBLY sit there and tell me you are okay about going to Hell?" Bobby said, unable to hide the anger and dismay in his voice.
Dean stared into the night sky.
"I've done a lot of bad, Bobby. I've killed…" Dean trailed off, shaking his head, unable to say what he was thinking.
"And you think I haven't? I've been alive a lot longer than you so I've done my share of bad. I've killed a hell of a lot more than you have. It's part of the life we lead. It doesn't make you deserve going to Hell," Bobby insisted.
Dean didn't seem convinced.
"That time we came to your place and Meg arrived. I told Sam to exorcise the demon, knowing it would kill her."
"You were doing mercy, Dean. She was already broken. The demon was the only thing keeping her alive. No one wants or deserves that life. She thanked you, remember?"
"I know, but I saw the doubt in your eyes, in Sam's eyes. You didn't think I was doing the right thing. You both thought I was killing an innocent."
Bobby looked into Dean's eyes and couldn't deny it. He had to admit that he had been worried about Dean's decision then, but later he had understood that it had been the right thing to do. It had been the humane thing to do. Dean had known that.
Dean cast his eyes away, not waiting for an answer he already knew.
"Then after it was driven out of her, all I could do was ask her about whether the demon was telling the truth about Dad. Sam tried to remind me, but I didn't care about what she was going through. I just wanted answers. I had no compassion for her. It made things…easier."
"Dean, that's not true. You were on a mission to save your father, it only stands to reason that you'd want to know where he was. She knew she was dying and understood that."
Dean then shook his head, "Did she?"
Bobby couldn't answer him because he didn't know the answer. Only she did.
"It's not just her."
Dean heaved a sigh.
"I've been feeling this..." Dean paused, then laughed. "I can't believe I talked to Gordon about this, that I even trusted him…but the problem is, he was right."
Dean swallowed and sighed again.
"I've been feeling this darkness inside of me and it's like I'm getting swallowed up in it. At first, I thought it was because I wasn't handling Dad's death very well, but truth is I've been feeling this way since before he died. I tried to deny it was there, but I felt it with Meg. I felt it when I killed that other demon spawn. They were both human. They didn't deserve what happened to them, to die…and the killing…it came so easily. I didn't even flinch," Dean said, recalling when he had told that to Sam and how it had scared him, still scared him. "When I killed a vampire, I enjoyed it. There was no remorse there. I found out later that the vampire wasn't even killing people."
Dean stared out again into the night sky again as if seeking some kind of answers there, as if hoping his father would tell him what to do.
"Hunting isn't about saving people anymore, Bobby. It used to be," Dean said, his voice betraying his weariness. "Saving people meant something. Knowing I was helping people made things bearable, kept me believing in the work, but lately, I don't anymore…I feel like I'm no better than the monsters we kill."
Dean bowed his head.
"The demon said that my soul was too tarnished, that even they didn't want it…" Dean took in a shaky breath.
"Dean, you can't believe –"
"Demons lie, I know, but…Bobby…" Dean took in a deep breath. "It felt true."
Bobby couldn't see Dean's face clearly in the semi-darkness, but he could hear the resignation in Dean's voice. The acceptance in it frightened him.
"People have died because of me. Good people who shouldn't have been sacrificed," Dean continued, his voice cracking with strain. "Layla, Marshall Hall…"
Dean shuddered, "Dad…Sam…I couldn't save them. They died because of me."
Bobby was amazed at the depth of responsibility Dean was carrying for the lives that had been entrusted to him.
"Dean, you can't save everyone and your dad's death was his choice."
"But he did it to save me, Bobby."
"Because he felt you were worth saving, Dean."
"Was I? I let Sam die."
oooo
Sam woke up groggily and looked around the room. He had remembered that they had all decided to crash at Bobby's to get some much-needed rest after the last battle. He looked over at the bed next to him and Dean wasn't there. The bed hadn't even been slept in. Sam knew that Dean had been running on adrenaline, but he also knew that it would wear off eventually despite Dean's seemingly inhuman ability to withstand pain. All of the bruises, as well as the gash on his forehead from battling the yellow-eyed demon would make themselves known with ferocity soon.
Sam stood up and stretched, feeling his own share of pain and soreness. He walked out to the living room and started heading towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. It was then he heard the voices. He inched towards the back door and listened.
oooo
"Dean, you didn't let Sam die. You couldn't have stopped it," Bobby insisted.
"That's what I'm talking about. I should have stopped it, but I didn't…I was too late…I failed him, Bobby."
Bobby looked at him, disbelief on his face, wondering how Dean could take the blame for what had happened to Sam. Bobby thought to himself, "you have no idea how important you were to your dad and to Sam all these years, do you? How in the hell am I going to convince you that you kept them alive?"
"When the djinn had me in its fantasyland, I was so happy because everyone was alive, living the lives they should have had, getting everything they deserved and…I just didn't want it to end, but more for them than for me," Dean said wistfully, at first. He then swallowed hard. "It took me awhile, but I figured out that I was a disappointment to everyone, a loser. I was a mechanic, a drunk. I hadn't amounted to anything. Worse yet, Sam and I didn't get along because I had done so many lousy things to him. I'd hurt all of them so much. Then it hit me…if Sam and I hadn't lost Mom and shared hunting, we never would have been close. Sam would have been what he should have been, a lawyer, married Jessica and I would have ended up a pathetic loser. Maybe even dead."
"It was a fantasy. It wasn't real. You're not that Dean."
"Yeh, I know it wasn't real, but it made me see that I didn't belong in that family. The ideal Winchester family doesn't have Dean Winchester in it. Would have been better off without him in it."
"Dean, it's not the family you had and harsh as it is, you did lose your mom and you and Sam did go into hunting and you two are close. In the real world, in this world, your family never would have made it without you. You protected them. You saved them by loving them and being the best damn hunter I've ever had the pleasure of knowing."
Dean smiled shakily, but it quickly disappeared.
"Thanks, Bobby, but I can't help thinking that I'm turning into that loser only this time, instead of being just a mechanic, I'm becoming a cold-blooded killer. And killers go to Hell, Bobby."
Sam stiffened at hearing Dean's words and couldn't stay silent any longer. He opened the back door and stepped out, startling Bobby and Dean.
"You're not a killer, Dean. You don't deserve to go to Hell and I'm going to make sure that you don't."
"Sam –" Dean said.
"No, Dean, you are not going to Hell and that's that."
Dean knew better than to continue arguing with Sam. He knew that determined tone in his brother's voice. Nothing he could say would change Sam's mind so he stayed silent and let Sam rant. Dean knew it wouldn't be the last time he'd hear it.
"Okay, Sam," Dean said, smiling for Sam's benefit, but Bobby knew Dean was just humoring him.
"I think it's about time we got some sleep and start fresh in the morning," Bobby interjected to break the awkward moment.
The two brothers nodded and headed up to their room. Dean turned his head for a moment to look at Bobby and Bobby could see Dean's sad eyes, the resignation in them. Then Dean turned back away. It brought a chill.
oooo
Dean still couldn't sleep. He lay on the bed until the sun started to peek through the curtains. He then got up and knowing that Sam would worry, left him a note to let him know that he was just out for a drive.
He stealthily left the house and climbed into the Impala. When the engine roared to life, it was the only time Dean had wished she had been a quieter economy car. He didn't want to wake anyone up. As he drove through the town, he found a café that had just opened to greet early risers. He parked the car, got himself a large cup of coffee and started walking towards the town square. He found a bench and sat down. Dean allowed himself to enjoy the small town peace that filled the air. It had been a brutal year and last night had marked the end of a 24-year legacy both he and Sam had been carrying. Dean felt relief for the very first time. He knew the feeling wouldn't last. There was still a war to be fought and demons to put back into Hell, but in a way he was looking forward to the battles ahead. He was a hunter, would always be a hunter, and would die a hunter, if he was lucky. Facing the Hellhounds was a fate he was planning to avoid. He was going to die on his own terms and if that meant cutting his time short with Sam then it would just have to be that way. He was going to put all his energies into killing every evil son of a bitch he could. If he got taken out, so be it. He wasn't going to be dragged into Hell by its pit bulls. Not even for Sam.
Dying. Dean found himself still a little disbelieving of that fact. In a year's time, he would be gone from this earth. The only trace of Dean Winchester would be smoke and ashes. His only legacy would be Sam. But he was good with that. What he had told Bobby had been the truth. He was okay with what awaited him. It didn't mean he wasn't afraid. Not of death, death had been something he had been prepared for since he was a teenager, but Hell, that was a different story. Never in his life up to this point, had he ever considered that he would be facing Hell. He admitted that knowing it existed, that even demons feared it, made denying it hard to do. He wasn't afraid of much, his greatest fear had already been realized, Sam's death, but he had brought him back. All Dean needed to do now was to make sure he protected Sam for just a little bit longer. He had to make sure that Sam lived. He had a lot of work to do to prepare Sam for life without him and he wasn't kidding himself, he already knew that Sam would fight him all the way, but he knew he had to try.
"Mind if I share this bench with you, son?"
Dean looked up as his thoughts were interrupted by the gentle voice of an elderly man.
"Sure, go ahead," Dean offered politely, even though he felt a little uncomfortable about having to feign a conversation with the old man, he also felt it would be rude to just leave.
"Lovely morning, isn't it?"
Dean thought to himself, "here it comes".
"Yeh, it is," Dean agreed, planning to keep his answers short and sweet.
"You're new in town," the elderly man said.
"We're visiting a friend," Dean replied.
"Ah," the man said. "Oh, where are my manners, my name is Samuel. Samuel Devon."
Dean's eyes widened for a second, as if hearing someone else named Sam was a completely foreign idea. He then inwardly berated himself for being silly and chalked it up to sleep deprivation.
"Dean," he replied back and shook Samuel's extended hand.
"Nice to meet you, Dean," Samuel said. "You seem surprised at hearing my name."
"Oh, sorry, my brother's name is Sam."
"Ah, I see. Is he with you too?"
"Yeh," Dean said, as he took a sip of his coffee.
Samuel noticed Dean's haggard expression and the gash on his forehead.
"If you don't mind me saying, son, you look like you've gone to Hell and back."
Dean couldn't help snorting slightly at the statement, and nodded in agreement.
"You also look like a man with a lot on your mind. Trouble sleeping?" Samuel observed.
"Yeh, I guess you could say that."
"You staying long?"
"No, probably will hit the road today."
"So where you heading?"
Dean paused for a moment. He knew he couldn't tell this old man the truth, but he also had a strange feeling this particular man would understand if he had. He couldn't explain it. It was just a feeling. Dean then shrugged the thought off.
"Nowhere in particular," was all Dean offered.
"Ah," Samuel said. "So other than your brother, do you have any other family?"
Dean noticeably bowed his head as his shoulders slumped. Even with the yellow-eyed demon dead, he still felt the losses that had come with that final defeat. Even with Sam brought back, Dean could still remember the raw devastation he felt when Sam had died in his arms.
"No, no, I don't."
"So, your brother's all you have then."
Dean just nodded and Samuel nodded with him.
"I had a brother too."
Dean didn't know why, but hearing Samuel tell him that he had a brother suddenly perked his interest when just a moment ago, all he wanted was to be left alone. Maybe there was a part of him that just wanted to hear a story about two other brothers. Maybe hear a run-of-the-mill story about how they grew up together, had families, and just grew old watching each other's grandchildren, a life that he would have given anything to have had with Sam.
"He died when he was 28. Too young," Samuel said, his voice cracking with emotion, his eyes wet with tears. "He died saving my life."
Dean stiffened, not expecting to hear Samuel tell him about losing a brother, let alone a brother who had sacrificed his life to save him. The raw grief of losing Sam was still fresh enough to recall and feel and it reared again upon listening to Samuel. Dean doubted that the pain would ever go away.
"I'm sorry," Dean said respectfully.
"Thank you, son," Samuel said. "No matter how many years go by, it still hurts to remember and it reminds me how much I miss him. I almost killed myself after it happened, came pretty darn close to drinking myself to death for a while there, but I knew he wouldn't have wanted that, that killing myself would have been an insult to what he had done for me."
Dean nodded in understanding. Samuel took in a breath and had a distant look on his face.
"He was a policeman. Best cop in the county. He so loved helping people. It was his whole life. Our father was a policeman and Dylan, well, he just took to it like it was in the genes or something. Not me though. I went to the other side of the law. I became a lawyer," Samuel smiled wryly.
Dean smiled, but it faded quickly. His Sam should have become a lawyer too, saving lives that way instead of being on the road, killing demons and spirits with him.
"Were you close?" Dean asked.
"Yeh, we were," Samuel said with a warm smile from the memory. "Dylan was my big brother, always felt he had to protect me, you know? Especially after our father passed. We had lost our mother when were young children. We counted on each other…" Samuel trailed off.
Dean reacted wide-eyed again in surprise at the similarities of Samuel's life to his own with Sam. He could understand the kind of bonding that comes from loss.
"If it's too hard –"
"No, no, it never gets any easier, mind you, but I want to talk about him. I'm ashamed to say that I haven't thought about him in a long while. He'd say that was a good thing because he belonged in my memories, but I can't help feeling that I've allowed myself to forget him and I shouldn't. Not ever."
Samuel rubbed his hands together.
"I had been working on this case. I was a young upstart, full of bluster and confidence I really didn't have. I thought I was invincible, thought I was going to save the world, you know? But I got on the bad side of a mob boss back in the day. I sent one of his cronies to jail for murder. He didn't take kindly to it and put out a contract on me. Dylan was worried about me and wanted to put me under police custody, but I said that I could take care of myself, that I wasn't his baby brother anymore and that he couldn't tell me what to do," Samuel bowed and shook his head. "He told that if I was going to be pigheaded and not let him put an officer on me, then he'd just have to protect me himself whether I liked it or not. We half laughed about it, but I knew he was dead serious about making sure that nothing happened to me. He was stubborn that way…and I…I was a fool…"
Samuel took in another long breath.
"One night we were out walking together after having a few drinks at a local tavern, having a good time as brothers are want to do…" Samuel trailed off, his face lined with the pain of the memory. "Then suddenly out of nowhere there were shots everywhere. I've never been so scared in my whole life, but not Dylan. He just got down to business and knew exactly what to do. It was all instinct for him. He called for back up then shoved me behind him so he could shield me. I was so dazed, I didn't even protest. Unusual for me, let me tell you…then…then…"
"It's okay, Samuel, you don't have to –"
Samuel took in a ragged breath, looking as if he were going through that night all over again. Dean could almost see it being relived in Samuel's eyes.
"Two bullets hit him square in the chest. I mean, I could have sworn I felt them go into him, but he barely staggered back. He kept repeating for me to stay behind him and he kept on shooting. I don't know what kept him going."
"He was probably thinking about you. Keeping you safe. Making sure you didn't get hurt," Dean offered as an explanation, knowing that it was coming from an understanding that he felt about Sam and what he had done for him. It was what had kept him going, bringing back Sam. He had remembered that when he had made the deal with the crossroads demon, he was completely single-minded, almost on autopilot. Nothing else mattered except bringing Sam back.
"Dylan finally got the guy, but by then…it was if he'd known that he had done his job and that he could let go…" Samuel said, his voice cracking from the strain of trying to keep tears back, but failing. "He dropped the gun, slumped back towards me and I caught him in my arms. He told me that what happened wasn't my fault, that it was his job to protect me. He told me to watch out for myself because he wouldn't be around to get me out of trouble anymore…He said it like a joke, you know? That was his way, always with the jokes so I wouldn't be scared, but he was right. I'd never feel safe like that again. He made me promise him to live on without him…I begged him not to leave me…but I knew he couldn't. It was probably the only time he couldn't do what I asked of him."
Samuel began to sob softly and Dean felt compelled to put an arm around him. He understood now that facing dying and going to Hell wasn't just about him. He had made a choice, but it didn't just affect him. Like Dylan, Dean would be leaving Sam behind and alone to pick up the pieces of his life after he was gone, but worse than Samuel, Sam would have to live with knowing that he was in Hell. Not in some peaceful place.
"I'm sorry, son."
"It's okay."
"I left the city, came here and never left. I never married. I never had kids. I survived, but I stopped living the night Dylan died…it just didn't feel right to…" Samuel said his eyes had a faraway look in them. "He was the best brother a man could ever have. The only thing he cared about was protecting me from all the bad in the world and I took him for granted. Once he was gone, I didn't care what happened to me. I may have promised Dylan to live on, but I couldn't live life without him."
Samuel looked up at Dean, an expression of wisdom on his face.
"Keep your brother close, Dean. You're all he's got now. Don't underestimate how much he needs you. I did," Samuel said. "All you have is each other and time can be cruel. You think you have your whole lives to spend together, but you never know what will take it away. Don't waste it on the small stuff that don't mean anything."
Dean nodded. Samuel wiped the rest of his tears from his face then took another breath.
"Well, best get home," Samuel said as he rose to his feet. "Thank you, son for letting an old man cry on your shoulder and give you unsolicited advice."
Dean just smiled.
"Can I give you a ride?" Dean offered.
"No need, I don't live far, but thank you again."
Dean nodded.
"It was nice to meet you. I can tell you're a fine young man and that you care about your brother. I can see it in your eyes and in your heart. He's lucky to have you protecting him, but do an old man a favor?"
"Sure, if I can."
"Let him protect you too. It's what brothers do."
Dean nodded in understanding then watched Samuel walk away. He took Samuel's words to heart. Sam had pretty much said the same thing last night about protecting him. Dean realized that Sam needed to feel needed by him. He turned towards the car, but took another look back. Samuel was gone. "Spry for an old dude" Dean thought to himself.
He drove back to Bobby's with coffee and pastry for breakfast for the others. As he passed them around, he caught himself staring at Sam. Sam looked back puzzled.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Nothing." Dean replied. "Hey, I met this really nice old man in town, a Samuel Devon. Do you know him, Bobby?"
"Samuel Devon?" Bobby asked, a look of doubt on his face. "You sure he said he was Samuel Devon?"
"Well, yeh, Bobby, I'm sure. Why?"
"Because Samuel died over a year ago."
Dean was surprised at first. He must have been really off his game to get fooled by a spirit, and yet, he was glad that he had been. Samuel had made him feel a lot better about the future. Could Samuel have picked up on his feelings, like some spirits do, and realized that Dean would have benefited from hearing his story? Dean wasn't quick to dismiss the idea because meeting him had made him feel better.
He was still facing Hell, but he now knew that he didn't deserve to go there and that he didn't have to face the prospect alone. It wasn't fair to Sam to shut him out because he was a part of it. Dean still had a job to do, to protect Sam. No matter what was going to happen in the future, he didn't want Sam regretting the time they had spent together even if it was only for a year.
Every moment had to be cherished because it could probably be their last together and they had lost so much. Sam will have lost so much after he was gone. Dean had taken for granted that Sam would be fine, that he would survive losing him, but after watching him struggle so hard to try to find a way out for him, he realized he'd been wrong. Samuel had made him see that Sam needed to believe there was a way out for him. If Dean took that away from him, it would make the defeat that much harder for Sam to overcome. Still, that knowledge warred with the cold and hard reality that Dean couldn't let him find a way out for him because Sam would die, if he did and Dean already knew that was something he could never live with, could never survive. He knew now, he had to live for Sam for as long as he could and give Sam whatever he needed. He had to hope it would be enough to leave him with that legacy.