Dean could hear every single word from outside the bunker's kitchen. Sam's utterance of 'Dean's in trouble' made him think. It was bad enough that he thought he was weak. His brother didn't have to rub salt in the wound. Sam's never ending hope was most of what kept Dean going. If Sam gave up now... It wasn't like his brother to be Mr.Truthful but these words held honesty. They were like a punch in the gut to him.
Even his own brother didn't believe in him anymore.
He pushed away from the wall where he was leaning, not able to follow anymore of the conversation. Dean stumbled on his second step and fell to his knees. The impact was jarring, and painful, and dammit, he should've let Cas perform his Houdini crap on him. But he wasn't going to let anything deter his short little trip to his own room. He could do at least that much without any help, should be able to.
Dean shifted near the wall and used it as leverage. The action of using his hands made his body sing wih pain and his tortured ribs do a full scream. His head swam and the lights suddenly became too bright. His vision went in and out of focus and Dean finally pulled himself upright. He half walked, half stumbled the rest of the way and crashed onto his bed. Might've let out a groan. Definitely did not whimper.
But when he was finally in bed, he found himself unable to sleep. Did he want to? Yes. Did he feel like it? Hell, yeah. Could he?
Cain's words were still attacking him. Dean felt like he was drowning. He sat up, very slowly, and sat down beside his bed. Sam had always called that position the 'ass-buster' but Dean loved it.
Has it never occurred to you? Of course it had.
Have you never mused upon the fact that you're living my life in reverse? He didn't want to know.
My story began when I killed my brother and that's where yours will inevitably end. Dean wanted to scream at this point. Scream that that will never happen. Scream that he will never hurt a hair on the brother's head who he had been given responsibility of. That he would never dream of hurting Sam. He realised that he already had. With Lucifer and Kevin and Gadreel and now, the Mark.
First, first you'd kill Crowley. And then you'd kill the angel Castiel. And then.. Dean finished the sentence with the Cain in his head.
Your brother.Dean vowed that he'd never do that. Ever. He looked around to see that everything was becoming a kaleidoscope and the voice in his head was getting louder and louder and LOUDER and it just won't stop saying how he'd kill Sam and Cas and most importantly, Sam and the Mark started burning along with his lungsand Dean didn't know what to do but somewhere far away someone was telling him to breathe but Dean couldn't.
He couldn't stop thinking and flashed back to words once said years ago- I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing and he desperately wanted those words to come true because he couldn't live with he knowledge that someday in the near future he might kill his own brother. No options, at all. His vision was starting to blacken around the edges and he was aware of someone screaming at him and it was probably Sammy, the same Sammy who he'd murder someday and he must've said something out loud about how he doesn't want to kill Sam because suddenly he was wrapped in huge arms and the burning in his lungs got worse than the burning in his arm and the pain in his ribs became too much. The last thought he had before passing out was how wrong Cain was.
*povchangehere*Sam was thinking about getting a shower before going to sleep and after Cas left he sat ther in the kitchen for a while. He stood up to keep the first aid kit back where it belonged and pushed in all the chairs. Switching off all the lights he closed the door. Before going to the shower, he stopped by Dean's room. He expected Dean to stay true to his word and actually sleep for half a week but the sight that greeted him was not what he was expecting.
Dean was sitting in a very uncomfortable position by the bed and his knees were drawn to his chest. His eyes kept flitting here and there and generally remained unfocused. The bright light of the room made the bruises and cuts on his face stand out more. At that second, he looked like a very roughed about twelve year old.
But it was the way his lower lip trembled that made Sam approach his brother, albeit a bit cautiously.
"Dean? Hey, look at me." There was absolutely no reaction and Sam tried again, a bit forcefully.
"Dean, look. At. Me." Dean was starting to hyperventilate and his breaths were coming in short, loud bursts of air.
"Breathe, alright? Come on Dean. With me, one, two," Sam counted but nothing changed. His brother's eyes got larger and more desperate but were still not obeying.
"Goddammit, Dean. Breathe, will you?" Sam was running out of patience and time.
"Breathe! IN, OUT! Come on." The last couple of words was barely a plea and he heard Dean mumble something.
"I don wanna kill y..you," The words were slurred but Sam didn't care. If this was what Dean was worried about, that was easy. It would never happen. But then again, he hadn't been up there with Cain and lord only knows what shit he drilled inside his brother's head. Before he knew it, he was hugging Dean. A few seconds later his brother sagged in his arms and his breaths became more even. He lifted his very heavy, unconscious brother carefully and placed him on his bed. He shut all the lights and paused in the doorway. Dean looked so peaceful like that, he couldn't imagine his brother as a murderer.
Dean didn't have to worry about killing Sam because that was impossible. He'd never do it. Sam was everything to Dean and vice versa. So there was no reason to worry. Right?