A Dent

By Carol M.

Tag to Episode 5.1 Sympathy for the Devil

Starts at the tail end of the scene at the end between Sam and Dean in the hospital parking lot.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, only like to play with them.

Note: This is my first Supernatural fan fiction. I've written for a few other shows in the past, but it's been awhile. Something about this show screamed at me to delve a little deeper. I don't think the rift between Sam and Dean can be healed in one conversation or even in one event. I think it will be healed little by little throughout the course of the season. I 'm really excited to see what the writers will ultimately come up with. In the meantime, this is my attempt to at least get the boys talking and take a small step in the right direction. Hope you enjoy!

A Dent…

"I just don't think I can't trust you," said Dean, the words shooting out of his mouth like a bullet.

He watched as Sam visibly took the shot, his brother's face cringing. Instantly, almost as a reflex, Dean felt regret. Every instinct in his body told him to comfort his brother. It's what he had been doing his entire life. Taking care of Sammy. He didn't want to hurt him. He couldn't. Even now, despite everything, that protective gene still lingered inside him. But it was like an invisible force was preventing him from moving towards him. In his heart of hearts, all he wanted was to go up to his little brother, give him a playful jab in the gut and pretend like none of this had ever happened. But it had. And he just couldn't forget the hurt.

Dean turned away and walked to his car, feeling Sam's eyes on his back. He shook it off and got in, slamming the door behind him. He sighed, his hand coming up to rub his tired eyes. He expected to hear the car door open and feel the weight of the car shift as Sam got inside. But there was nothing. He looked up in the rearview mirror and saw Sam still standing behind the car, a pathetic kicked puppy dog look on his face that Dean did his best to ignore.

"Dean," whimpered Sam.

Dean cracked the window, irritated. "Sam, just get in the car."

Sam didn't budge. He just stood there, looking lost and alone.

"Dean, I'm sorry man."

"Dude, you getting in the car or do I have to run you over?" That damn protective instinct was taking over once again. Damn it.

"I'm pathetic Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, I swear to god, man…

"Just go ahead and run me over. You'd do the world a favor," said Sam, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze locked on the ground.

"Fine, whatever," said Dean. He could play this game. He put the car in reverse and gunned it, backing up to within an inch of Sam before coming to a screeching stop.

Sam took a stumbling step back in shock.

"You done?" said Dean, aggravated. "Get in the car!"

Sam looked down in defeat and ambled towards the car. He got in and shrunk down in the passenger's seat, slamming the door listlessly behind him.

Dean stared straight ahead, not looking at his brother. He couldn't look into those damn sad eyes again. "Let's just go back to the hotel and get some sleep."

He once again screeched the car into action, pulling the rest of the way out of the parking spot and then burning rubber out of the hospital parking lot. He flipped on his tape deck and Metallica's Enter Sandman blasted through the speakers. Dean tried to lose himself in the roar of the engine and the sound of the music and forget, even if just for a few seconds, all of the things that had happened over the past couple of weeks.

Unfortunately, his brother had other plans.

"You and Bobby should have killed me," said Sam.

Dean turned down the music. "'What?"

"You should've killed me," said Sam.

Dean wasn't in the mood for the pity party. He really wasn't. "Yeah, maybe we should have," he said sarcastically before turning the music back up.

Sam retaliated and turned the music back down. "You should've killed me the first time you ever caught me drinking demon blood. Hell, you should've just let me stay dead when you had the chance. Then none of this hell fire, seal breaking, end of the world crap ever would've happened."

"Dude, I really didn't bring enough booze for a pity party, okay. And whaddaya mean none of this would've ever happened?" said Dean, the need for escape suddenly replaced with the need to defend himself.

"If you hadn't have made that deal, you never would've gone to hell, I never would've been alone and desperate, you wouldn't have broken the first seal," said Sam.

Dean's jaw cranked up so type he nearly chipped a tooth. "Oh, oh, I get it, all of this is my fault, right? Because I'm so selfish to keep my little brother alive and not want him to die…and then I left him alone…and because I'm so weak, I couldn't make it in hell without turning into a monster and jump starting the damn apocalypse!"

"That's not how I meant it," said Sam.

"Sammy, every single day I regret what I did in hell. Every single day. And there won't be a day that goes by for the rest of my damn life, whether I live for another six days or sixty years that I will not remember and regret everything that happened down there. I know what I did, man, believe me. I screwed up and that's on me. And I live with that!" Dean looked down at his hands. "Try too."

Sam shrugged. "So you screwed up. You just said it yourself Dean, you turned into a monster in hell. The great Dean Winchester who hunts and fights evil turned evil himself. Why? Because you're human! You're not perfect. You're not an angel or a God. You're just a guy, man…capable of making horrible mistakes," said Sam, tears starting to well up in eyes. "So why can't you forgive me for doing the same thing? Why can't you forgive me for turning into something ugly when everything around me was falling apart?"

Dean pulled the car off to the side of the road in a screeching stop. He looked over at his brother, his hands shaking. "Because it isn't the same thing man! I never betrayed you! Never, not once! I may have started the end of the world dude, but I never lied to you. I always had your back. Always!" Dean swallowed hard, fighting tears of his own.

Sam inhaled sharply as the tears started to flow. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought that maybe for once, that I was stronger than my big brother. That I knew better than you and that it was up to me to save you, like you've always done for me! I've never had that, Dean. I thought that the ends would justify the means and that you'd eventually realize that I was just trying to be the hero and make you and dad proud."

"That's crap," said Dean.

"Dad never took the easy way out. Whatever needed to be done, he did, no matter what. Hell, how many times did you almost die because of things he did? How many times did he put a demon before you or your life?"

Dean gave him the death glare. "Don't you talk about him like that, man!"

"Even now, you defend him! I was just doing what I thought was right at the time. I was trying to save the world. And you know what, Dean, I was wrong." Sam nodded to himself, the tears flowing freely. "I was wrong," he said softly. "Why do I have to be perfect? How come I can't screw up? Why is it so easy to just write me off?"

"Sam."

"Dean, I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry for that more than anything, hell, more than even possibly ending the whole world. I'm sorry. I don't want your trust, I don't even want your forgiveness. I just want a chance. The chance to make all this up to you…not to mention Bobby and God and the rest of the world. I want to be something that you and dad would be proud of again. Hell, Dean, I want to be something I can be proud of again."

"Sam."

"But I don't think I can do it without you," said Sam.

Dean sighed heavily.

"Do you still love me, Dean?" asked Sam, his face taking on a look of fearful anticipation.

"Dude, that's just creepy," said Dean.

Sam nudged Dean in the arm. "I'm serious bro. You know what I'm saying."

Dean looked at Sam briefly and then looked away for a long moment, his eyes blurrily focused out the window as tears threatened to spill out. "Course I do," he whispered so softly it was almost under his breath.

"Then give me the chance to make it up to you. Just a chance. If I mess up, I'm gone, Kill me. Hell, I'll kill myself. Just one chance. I deserve that much," said Sam with a hint of hope in his tone.

Dean sniffed softly and looked straight ahead. He couldn't bring himself to look at his brother. Not yet. He still wasn't quite there. "I'll think it about it," he said.

Sam visibly relaxed into his seat, a small smile flashing across his face.

Dean gunned the engine to life and pulled out onto the road. His hand reached for the radio knob. "But I will say this, you touch my radio again, we're done forever," he said, his gaze focused on the road ahead.

Sam chuckled softly and wiped at the drying tears on his cheek.

Dean turned the music all the way up and sped down the highway.

That's all folks!