Disclaimer: I don't own the supernatural characters.
Warnings: Harsh language, violence, some physical violence but nothing too graphic, thoughts of self-incrimination.
Author's Note: Not quite sure where this one came from. Not even sure if I like it or not but … it is set just after The Darkness is released. Let me know if I should continue or not.
UNFORGIVEN REMEDY
Sam Winchester was drunk.
He was sitting at the kitchen table of the Men of Letters bunker, contemplating getting himself something to eat, because it felt like he hadn't eaten in what felt like forever, but brought the half-filled glass of whiskey to his mouth instead.
It was the first time, in a very long time, that Sam had allowed himself to relax since learning that his brother had gotten the damn Mark of Cain in order to defeat Abaddon – the last Knight of Hell – who had been determined to take over Hell and wreak havoc upon the Earth.
But now, finally, after months of heartache, frustration and tears, Sam had been able to save his brother. The Mark of Cain was removed and now Dean was free; no chance of him becoming a demon again, no chance of him giving into his dark side and turning evil; after all of these years, Sam had finally done the impossible and had saved his beloved big brother.
That, in itself, was more than enough reason for Sam to celebrate with a couple of drinks. But, as usual, freeing Dean from the Mark had come at a terrible cost. Not only had Sam gotten Charlie – a young, sassy, vibrant young woman whom both Winchesters had come to love like the sister they never had – killed, but Sam had released a terrible force upon the Earth … the Darkness.
Once again, Sam had set something evil loose upon the world. As if he hadn't learned his lesson the first time when he had released Lucifer and almost brought about the promised apocalypse. Now, he had released something far more devastating upon the Earth; something far more dangerous; something that was so destructive that God himself had deemed it necessary to lock it away and basically throw away the key.
But Sam had managed the impossible. He had not only found the key, but Sam had managed to unlock it, freeing the Darkness into the world when he had removed the Mark of Cain from his brother's arm. The Mark had been the key; and removing it had unlocked the door to a cell that should never, ever been opened. But once again, Sam Winchester had done the impossible and had doomed the world to annihilation once again.
Sam had gone against every rational thought, every instinct – even Dean telling him once Charlie had died to forget this crusade Sam was on to free him from the mark, to leave it alone – because Sam had wanted to save his brother just one damn time.
He had failed Dean when he couldn't Dean out of his deal to go to Hell for Sam. He had failed Dean when he had trusted a demon over his own flesh and blood brother, becoming addicted to demon blood, his vengeance to kill the demon Lilith, who had dragged Dean's soul to Hell, the hell hounds she commanded ripping into Dean's body right in front of his eyes while Sam could do nothing … nothing to stop it, or to save Dean like he had promised, vowed to do; not realizing that killing Lilith was the final seal to unlocking the cage which had set Lucifer free.
He had failed Dean when he had returned from Hell soulless and let Dean get turned into a vampire just so he could get information on the Alpha vampire; almost killing his surrogate father – Bobby Singer – in the process of trying to stop Dean from returning his soul into his body.
Thank God Dean had succeeded and Sam had failed. He never, ever wanted to walk around without a soul ever again. He was too dangerous, too unpredictable.
And then, of course, the ultimate failure and betrayal of when he hadn't looked for Dean when he had been sent to Purgatory after killing Dick Roman – leader of the Leviathans – forcing Dean to put his trust in a vampire, rather than be hurt and betrayed by his little brother once more.
Of course, there was a more valid reason as to why Sam hadn't looked for Dean, other than he had 'hit a dog and met a girl' but Sam would never, ever reveal the real reason why he had quit hunting; why he had stopped looking for his beloved brother.
The memory of that time was enough to cause Sam to shudder with shame and revision. Nope. There was no way in hell Dean was ever going to learn the truth … not from Sam anyway.
Then Sam had failed to shut the gates of Hell – because his big brother had begged him to stop – but if Sam hadn't of been such a coward, if he had only finished what he had started, then Abaddon wouldn't have arrived on the scene and Dean wouldn't have had to get the Mark of Cain in order to defeat her … so, in a round about way, Sam had failed his brother on that score to.
Although, since Abaddon jumped into their time-line from the past, and if Sam had succeeded in closing the gates of Hell, did that mean that Abaddon would still have come into their time or would she have been sucked back into Hell just as the gates were closing?
Sam didn't know for certain, and it hurt his head to consider all of the ramifications that time travel could cause or incur. But, it didn't matter; Sam still accepted the responsibility, the blame, the guilt, the failure for Abaddon and for his brother having to obtain the Mark of Cain.
And then, there was the fact that while possessed by the angel Gadreel, he had used Sam's body to kill another good friend of theirs; a young prophet who had looked to the Winchesters for his safety and survival and Sam had just … killed him.
Well, Gadreel had killed him if you wanted to get really technical, but Sam still counted that as one of his failures toward his brother. Because if he'd been stronger, maybe he could have stopped the angel from killing their friend – Kevin Tran – he could have evicted the angel from his body. But Sam hadn't been strong enough. He was never strong enough to be able to protect the ones he cared about.
And that's part of the reason why Sam had been so determined to save his brother from the Mark. For once in his miserable existence, Sam was going to do the one thing he'd always vowed to do, but he'd never been able to succeed in doing; he was going to save his brother, no matter what it took, or what it cost him. He was going to save Dean.
And he had. Finally, after everything, Sam had succeeded in saving his brother.
But the cost had been too high.
Charlie … It should been you up there, Dean's icy cold voice resounded within his mind. And in that moment, Sam wished that it had been him up there. Charlie didn't deserve to die just because she had reluctantly agreed to Sam's plan to help free Dean from the Mark.
Charlie hadn't deserved to die for the book – the Book of the Damned – that had eventually been the book that had an ancient spell to remove the Mark from Dean's arm; the book that a powerful family – the Styne's – had wanted in their possession and who had ultimately tracked Charlie down and killed her in order for them to obtain it; the book that Sam had tricked Dean into thinking had been destroyed, but had quickly swapped it out for another book while Dean's back was turned.
Charlie had died because of him; Sam had no illusions or doubts about that. Kevin had died because of him; their Mum had died because of him. And if Sam really looked at it, scrutinized over it, he was sure that his Dad and Bobby had died because of him as well.
And then there was Ellen and Jo, who had died in a suicide mission of finding the Devil and shooting him point blank in the face in order to avert the impending apocalypse … the same Devil that Sam had freed from the cage in the damned first place!
Sam swept his arm across the kitchen table in a fit of rage, the glass and bottle he had been drinking out of being swept onto the floor, shattered glass raining upon the floor, Sam's breaths coming out in heaves of pent up furry and frustration.
Why the hell couldn't he do anything right?
It should be you up there …
You're a monster Sam, a freak, a blood sucking vampire …
You walk out that door and don't you ever come back …
When this is over … you lose my number … understand? …
Why did you do it Dean? Why did you sell your soul for me? … Because I couldn't live with you dead …
I just … I don't know if I can trust you anymore …
I was wrong … we're not stronger together, we're weaker …
It should be you up there …
C'mon son, you're not gonna kill me, are ya? … Sorry Bobby, it's nothing personal …
Benny's been a better brother to me than you ever have … he's never let me down …
Dad said that I had to save you and if I couldn't … I might have to kill you Sammy …
Phrases and voices from the past invaded Sam's mind, like a re-run of his epic failures, playing and resounding within his mind.
Sam had thought that after he went to Hell, locked in the cage with two very pissed of arch-angels – Michael and Lucifer – that he had atoned for his sins … not completely, but just a little. He had been the one who had set Lucifer free, so it seemed fitting that he should be the one to put him back.
And he had. Sam had jumped into the pit, Lucifer on board, pulling Michael and his half-brother Adam down with him. He had suffered horribly, the events in the cage causing his fragile mind to shatter into a million pieces, his hallucinations so powerful that he couldn't tell what was real and what was not. He had almost been driven to the brink of insanity; to the brink of death and if not for Castiel – an angel of the Lord, Dean's guardian angel, the one who had rescued his brother from Hell all of those years ago – he would have succumbed and he would have died.
Maybe Castiel shouldn't have saved him … the boy with the Demon Blood …
Sam knew that no matter what he did or how hard he tried, he could never atone for his sins. Not completely.
Dean had forgiven Sam for his past failures, mistakes, in that church, Sam about to complete the last trial which would have closed the gates of Hell forever. Dean had forgiven him …
There is nothing, not past or present that I would ever put in front of you. You have to believe that … I need you to see that! …
It should be you up there …
Benny's been a better brother to me than you've ever been …
… I might have to kill you Sammy …
Sam shook his head, knowing that after everything he had done, he would never be able to atone for his sins. He would never be able to wipe the slate clean and start over … as much as Dean had forgiven him and told him that they could start over, Sam knew that he couldn't. He'd done too much bad to be given a chance of redemption.
He told himself that he did what he had for the greater good, that his intentions had been pure, noble, and good; but it was all lies. His so-called "good intentions" always led to things being so much worse. People died because of his "good intentions". And Dean … every time Sam failed and fucked up royally, he could see pieces of Dean being shredded away. His belief and trust in Sam, in their brotherhood being stripped piece by piece every time Sam screwed up, bringing the world closer to annihilation and the ultimate end.
The only person who has made more mistakes than me, is you …
Sam chuckled bitterly at that thought; words that Castiel had spoken had never been more true. Yes, Sam had made many mistakes. And he had no doubt that he would make many more. But the thing that bothered him the most was that he seemed to never learn from his mistakes.
What was that saying … once is a mistake, the second time is a choice?
Sam honestly hadn't chosen to release a new evil onto the Earth. He hadn't. He had been more than prepared to sacrifice his own life, his own sorry excuse of an existence in exchange for removing the Mark from his brother, but, instead, he had released something evil. Another type of evil, even worse than Lucifer this time, and Sam honestly didn't know if he had to strength to fix what he had broken this time.
It should be you up there …
… I might have to kill you Sammy …
You're a freak … a monster … a blood sucking vampire …
Sam's bitter chuckle turned into a sob; so many regrets, so much guilt, shame, remorse. When did it end? When would Sam learn his fucking lesson?
It should be you up there!
SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW
Dean Winchester sat upon his bed, the memory foam mattress that he loved so much, sculpted and curved around his body comfortably, staring vacantly at the wall, half a bottle of beer clasped in his hand, contemplating everything that had occurred within the last twenty-four hours.
He'd tried to kill his little brother.
As much as he had denied Cain's claim that Dean's story would end how Cain's had begun, by killing his brother; as hard as Dean had vehemently declared that he would never hurt his brother, standing strong in that one true and only belief that he could never harm his Sammy.
No matter what Sam had done, how much he had disappointed, betrayed and hurt Dean, Dean had known that he could never, would never resort to killing his brother – even though Dad had told him to 'save Sammy or kill him', even though while Sam had been possessed by the demon Meg, begging Dean to kill him because he felt something evil growing inside of him – Dean hadn't been able to do it … hadn't even considered the possibility of ending his brother's life, because as far as Dean was concerned – especially when it came to Sammy – there was always another way.
And now … Dean had tried to kill his little brother.
Dean wasn't sure if it was because of the Mark twisting his brotherly instincts, needs and desires, or if it was because of Charlie's death – which was Sam's fault because he had gotten her involved with his stupid crusade of trying to save him by removing the Mark of Cain from his arm; or maybe it was a combination of both … but whatever the reason, Dean had suddenly ignored years of instincts – brotherly and Hunter alike – and had decided that taking both Winchester siblings out of the playing field – Dean would kill Sam and Death would take Dean far away so that he could never hurt anyone – by killing the one person whom he loved and adored above anyone else.
He had raised that kid; he had sold his soul to bring Sam back from the dead because he couldn't live without him. Hell, he had done impossible things, made horrendous deals all so he could get his brother back, so he wouldn't be alone. Because if Sam was dead, then Dean had failed his one true and only mission, to protect Sammy, and Dean couldn't live with that failure, wouldn't live with having failed the only good thing in his wretched, fucked-up life.
But now …
Close your eyes … Sammy, close your eyes …
Dean had almost killed his baby brother, Cain's prediction almost coming to fruition and Sam … Sam had just knelt there, nothing but love, pride and understanding shinning within the depths of those puppy dog hazel eyes, calmly awaiting his death as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
If it hadn't of been for the pictures that Sam had brought with him and his big brother instincts screaming into life at the last second as Dean was about to strike his brother down, but had killed Death instead, Dean knew that he would have gone through with striking his brother down; no guilt, no remorse, just like a fucking robot who was doing what they had been programmed to do.
Dean didn't know who was more surprised when he had taken a swing at Death and killed him, him or Sam. But before Dean could properly sort through the reasons why he had spared Sam's life, a sharp, intense pain hit his arm, taking him down to his knees by the intensity of the agonizing pain … and then, just as soon as it had begun, it was over. The Mark of Cain was removed and Dean's deadened feelings and emotions flared back into life, relieved that he hadn't killed Sam, horrified that he had even considered that to be a possibility.
But now the Darkness was free. And apparently Dean had some kind of "connection" with the Darkness … just like he'd had a "profound bond" with the angel Castiel who had freed him from Hell.
And look how well his so-called "profound bond" had turned out. Dean had believed a bunch of douche bag angels instead of helping his sick and traumatized sibling – because who wouldn't be a little traumatized to see their big brother being ripped apart in front of them by an invisible force? – letting them fuck with his mind and emotions so much that Dean had thrown away the only possession that had meant any significance to him; the amulet Sam had given him.
To this day, Dean still felt tremendous guilt for that action and how gullible and stupid he was to let a bunch of "dicks with wings" come between the bond and brotherhood that he shared with Sam.
Dean was scared.
He was scared about the "connection" he had with this Darkness because as it had been proven time and again – the bunch of dick angels with wings and the Mark of Cain – it was all too easy for Dean to be manipulated by them, to easily dismiss his brother, failing to see that Sam was crying out in desperate need as Dean lost faith, trust and belief in Sam and their brotherhood.
Dean had almost killed his baby brother …
Sammy, close your eyes …
Dean, feeling so exhausted and despondent, his belief and hope scattered round him as he dropped the amulet in the trash and walked out of the motel room without uttering a word or looking at Sam in any way.
And then there was …
… I choose the king of Hell over you … maybe I was just tired of having to yank your lame ass out of fire, since forever … maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn't for you … your very existence sucked the life out of my life …
God, demon him was such an ass! And he'd tried to kill Sammy then too.
You would think that after all of this time that Sam would just stay away from him. Almost killing Sam was getting to become a regular occurrence these days. And what if the Darkness, because of the "connection" that they shared managed to do the impossible; twisted and manipulated Dean's mind so much that he actually killed his brother for real this time?
Dean shuddered at the thought, the half-bottle of beer in his hand gone with two quick gulps; the familiar sting of tears burning in his eyes.
Why Sam was still here, why he had even bothered to save him was a complete mystery to Dean. Dean had lost faith in that kid so many times, almost losing the will to go on, but Sam had clung in there, had fought his way back into Dean's heart, had never given up on him the way that Dean had given up on him and healed him from the Mark of Cain, the very first curse, even after Dean had almost killed him.
Dean closed his eyes, the guilt of his actions, of his words, washing over him, almost rendering him incapable of being able to breathe.
How could he have tried to kill his kid brother? How could he have said such cruel things to the one that he had dedicated … lived his whole life for?
Granted, he'd been under the influence of the Mark while saying such heartless and cruel things, blaming Sam for their mother's death – which he had never blamed or thought Sam responsible for their mother's death in any way, shape or form previously – trying to kill him with a bloody hammer when he had died and the Mark had brought him back as a demon.
But that was no excuse. He should never have said those things to his brother; he should never have even thought those things. This was Sammy, the kid he he'd raised … yeah, sure Sam had made some mistakes – Dean had made plenty of mistakes himself – it was just unfortunate luck that his brother's mistakes were epic in scale, bringing about the possible end of the world.
Dean had forgiven Sam for most of that crap, he had. It was just hard sometimes when the kid kept making the same mistakes over and over.
Dean couldn't even get mad at Sam for helping to release the Darkness when Sam had removed the Mark, because Dean knew that if their positions had been reversed, Dean would have done the exact same thing Sam had done. So to get mad at Sam for saving him … would be kind of hypocritical of him, and Dean Winchester was no hypocrite!
Dean knew he had hurt Sam's feelings tonight when he had wanted to have an early night and not go out like his brother had wanted, but Dean honestly didn't know if he could sit through an entire evening with Sam, trying to act normal and that everything was okay when all Dean really felt was deep guilt and remorse for the abhorrent way that he had treated his brother.
He'd almost killed his brother … his Sammy … his baby brother … and that knowledge made Dean feel sick to his stomach. Sam may have forgiven him for those things and brushed it off as nothing, but Dean would never be able to forgive himself for that.
His emotions were too close to the surface, too close to breaking though the carefully crafted barrier that he had erected to fool everyone into thinking he was all right, when in reality he was falling to pieces.
If Dean had taken Sam up on his offer, he would have cracked, his emotions would have come spilling out, he might even have blubbered like some girl in a really cheesy click flick movie … it wouldn't have been pretty … so Dean had decided to remain here, by himself, where he could deal with these emotions in typical Dean Winchester fashion by pushing them down, practicing his carefully crafted mask, making sure he had some kind of handle on his emotions before he faced Sam tomorrow.
Because, unfortunately for him, Sammy was the only one who could penetrate Dean's mask, his shield. Sam would know just by one look, one wrong misplaced smile or stuttered word that Dean was not all right; and then Sam would demand an answer, which would initiate a damn chick flick moment.
Dean's thoughts were interrupted by a loud shattering sound of glass being smashed or dropped, coming from the kitchen.
Sammy! Dean thought as he instinctively swung his legs over his bed, intent on getting to his brother as fast as he could. It may be that some intruder was in the bunker or it could be that his gawky, clumsy, oversized brother had dropped something.
Dean hesitated with his hand on the door knob, intending to fling the door open and rush to see what had befallen his brother, bitting his bottom lip nervously, glancing down the hallway worriedly, not wanting to confront his brother yet when his emotions were this close to the surface and he still felt so raw.
It was likely Sam had dropped something. It was difficult for an intruder to enter the Men of Letters bunker; difficult, but not impossible. Still, Dean didn't go running toward the kitchen, relaxing slightly when he heard his brother's muttered curses.
Sammy was okay. He was just drunk.
Dean couldn't help but chuckle to himself, knowing that at any moment now he would hear his brother stumbling down the hallway toward his room where he would, no doubt, crash for the night to sleep off his drunkenness.
Tomorrow, Dean decided, was soon enough to fix things with his brother.
DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW SW DW
Sam listed dangerously to one side. He grabbed hold of the table to brace himself but his hand slipped and Sam found himself falling. Straight down he went, in an ungraceful heap, right into the path of the shattered glass.
Sam felt small pricks of pain as some of the glass pierced his skin, but the alcohol numbed his pain, his senses, and his reactions. And he could only blink stupidly, wondering how the hell he had ended up on the floor in the first place.
Sam hadn't started drinking with the intention of getting drunk – blind drunk now if he was being completely honest with himself – he had wanted to have a celebratory drink with Dean because after all of this time, he had finally gotten his big brother back.
But Dean … as much as he had assured Sam that they were equally to blame for freeing the Darkness, and as much as Dean had said that he had forgiven Sam … Sam had seen the same look within those green eyes that he had grown up with, idolizing and worshiping as only a little brother could, that Dean had given to Sam each time that Sam had failed him.
That look of ultimate betrayal, pain, weariness that he had to fix yet another one of his brother's countless screw-ups, shame, humiliation, disappointment … and Sam thought he could detect a spec, a smidgen of hate in there, mixed in with large amounts of disdain.
When Sam had suggested that they grab a bite to eat and have a few beers, Dean had said that he was tired and had quickly retired to his room, but Sam had seen the flash of horror and disgust upon Dean's expression at having to spend an entire evening with Sam, talking in polite small talk when all he really wanted to do was to get as far away from Sam as fast as he could.
Sam had let Dean go, knowing with a sinking heart that his brother hated and despised him once again; that he hadn't forgiven Sam, nor would he ever and that this time … maybe Sam had pushed the limit too far, maybe Sam had finally broken the faith and belief that Dean once had in him, their brotherhood, their bond.
What was the point in carrying on if Dean had lost belief in him once again? It had been hard enough when Dean had thrown the amulet Sam had given him away, signifying to Sam that Dean no longer considered Sam his brother, no longer believed in him … in them.
Sam didn't think he could go through that again.
Sam hadn't given up then because he had to put Lucifer back in the cage, he had to stop the impending apocalypse that he had inadvertently started … plus Lucifer had said that he would only bring Sam back if Sam decided to give up. So Sam had no choice but to carry on.
And Sam knew that he wouldn't give up this time either. He had released the Darkness; he had to put it back.
But …
What if he could go back somehow … change one thing in his life, one instance to be able to turn it around so that he'd never walked down this path of self-destruction, never hurt the ones he loved over and over again, never betrayed the only person in his miserable life who had ever had his back, protected him and loved him with everything he had?
Sam wished he could change it so that Dean never had to feel misery and pain from the little brother he had raised and looked after for his whole life. He wished Dean never had to lose trust and faith in not only him, but in them … their brotherhood.
But the only being Sam had come across who could grand wishes was a jinn. And even then, it wasn't entirely a wish as such because you were put in a dream-state and would die in a few days as the jinn feed upon your life essence.
Angels could take you back in time … but Sam wasn't too confident that any angel would want to deal with the Winchesters, especially with him in particular because he was the boy with the Demon Blood. And Castiel … his friend … he no longer had the mojo to perform such angelic tasks as time travel or granting wishes.
But Henry Winchester, their grandfather, a Man of Letters, had used a spell in order to travel into the future, to his blood-line, to Sam and Dean. Maybe if Sam could tweak it a little … he would be able to travel to the past, prevent his naive self from taking the path that would lead to his damnation.
Actually, now that Sam thought about it, he was sure that he'd seen a spell somewhere in one of the books that he had scoured while looking for something that could cure Dean from the Mark of Cain … that could be just what he needed to make his greatest wish a reality.
Quickly, Sam stumbled to his feet, unaware that he was bleeding profusely from a large gash in his arm, renewed hope in his heart as he staggered his way into the library, coming across the first book shelf he could see as he began to rifle through the books.
He could fix this. He could fix all of this.
Dean wouldn't look as if he had the weight of the world upon his shoulders, looking far older than his actual age because he had seen too much, experienced too much, been hurt and betrayed by the one person he had trusted implicitly to always have his back, to always be on his side.
Dean could go back to being that care free twenty-six year old that Sam remembered when he'd come to collect Sam from Stanford to search for their missing father all of those years ago.
Sam's greatest wish for his brother could become a reality. And this time around … he could be completely sure that he had saved Dean, even if that meant saving Dean from himself.
