Never Say Die
Summary: Sam's been thinking and he needs Dean to make a promise. set during season 2. post Playthings.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.
"Dean, I've been thinking about this." Sam said, using that 'I got a full ride to Stanford' tone that bugged the hell out of his brother.
Dean sighed, always the know it all. "And you've concluded…" Dean looked at his with a smirk, "Time's past due for you to get a haircut?"
Sam smiled, "So, I take it you'll be updating that cassette collection?"
"When hell freezes over and pigs fly."
"Exactly."
Dean grinned, god, he had really missed this when Sam was away at school. He didn't realize how lonely it really had been, until Sam came back. The last year hunting wasn't so much doing the job but…fun. Like when they were kids.
"Dean." Sam had the serious look on his face, and that always worried Dean. Especially now.
"Okay," Dean sighed, so much for the fun. "What genius conclusion have you come to Eisenstein?"
"You're right." Sam told him—admitted to him.
"Dude," Dean looked at him, mock-insulted, then grinned, "Of course. I'm older, and that means I'm always right."
"Dean, could you be serious for one minute?"
Dean looked at Sam, saw that he really did look like he had something serious to say, and turned down the music. "Yeah, Sammy, Okay…what?"
"About what you said. About what I could become."
"If you're back on that Sam I swear…You're not going to become damn anything except the acute pain in my ass you already are. Just drop it."
"I can't. Dean, this is important. You're right okay, I have to fight this. Whatever it is."
Dean nodded his head in agreement. "Damn straight…and you don't have to worry, I'm right here looking out for you."
"I know. That's why this is important. Dean, if I don't—
"Sam, c'mon, man please don't start this again."
"I want you to promise me Dean, if I do turn into something…something I'm not. You have to do it okay, you have to kill me."
"Sam, you're not going to. And you can't ask me to do that."
"I know." Sam said quietly. "But I am. Dean, you promised that you'd always look out for me; I need you to do this, okay. Please."
Dean ignored the request, all he could feel was his insides churning. What was he going to do if…No! He refused to even entertain the possibility that it could happen.
"You're going to turn evil, or into some kind of demon Sam." Dean forced a laugh, "God, you are way too much of a goody two shoes for that."
"We're talking about the possibility, Dean. And what happens if and when…we both need to be prepared for the possibility…
"The only possibility I need to be prepared for is that we might need to stop to buy salt before we burn Sarah Marshall's corpse."
"We have to talk about this Dean. What are you going to do? Just let me turn into some demon and kill innocent people? You can't let me do that Dean, I don't want to be a demon."
"You won't." He wouldn't let it happen…it couldn't because he didn't think he could survive it.
"I need you to Dean, I need you to promise me you will or…" And unspoken threat hung in the air.
"Or what?" Dean questioned.
"Or I'll do it myself." Sam told him. "I'm not turning into a monster Dean, you promise me that you'll do it for me…or I'll do it myself."
Dean felt his blood run cold at Sam's statement. He pulled over the impala, he couldn't drive and do this all at the same time. He could barely breathe and do this at the same moment.
"You don't mean that, Sammy."
"Promise me." Sam demanded. "Or I don't see another alternative, Dean."
It was sort of like suffocating on air. It was a new experience for him…like all the air was crushing in on him.
"Promise me that you'll save me Dean. That if I turn into a monster you won't let me hurt anyone. That you'll kill me before it ever happens."
Dean squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could will all of this away. How could he believe that Sam was good, and promise to protect him, and do everything he promised his dad, and more importantly, his mom—that he would always look out for Sammy—if he promised to kill him.
Dean nodded his head, refusing to look at Sam. Because he wasn't going to cry. And if he looked at Sam, begging him to protect him…he wouldn't be able to not cry.
"I promise."
He felt like he failed all of them with those two words. His dad, his mom, and Sam.
Sam nodded his head, satisfied with the answer he'd received.
Dean put the car in drive, and Sam spoke again.
"I need you to promise me one more thing, Dean." Sam told him.
Dean scrubbed a hand across his face in frustration…god, more than anything else right now, he wanted to find some evil son of a bitch to kill.
"What?" He replied, exasperatedly. Anything but terrified, anything but facing the reality that he might actually have to make good on his promise to Sam.
"Dean, I need you to be okay. When—
"If." Dean corrected sharply, "If, Sam."
Sam just nodded his head. "I need you to be okay, Dean. Promise me that you'll be okay after…if you have to do it."
Dean shook his head. "I can't do that Sam."
"Dean, you promised to do anything for me."
"I know. I don't care…you can't ask me to that and to…you can't."
"Dean, you're my brother…I don't want you to blame yourself. You need to be okay if this happens."
Dean forced a smile for Sam's benefit. "Don't worry Sammy…You know me. I'm always all right."
Dean looked away and turned up his stereo, determined to forget about everything they'd just talked about.
"You know," He said, "We're passing through Minnesota. What do you say we take a look at the world's biggest ball of twine?"
"You're…serious?"
"Like a heart attack. C'mon, we see the biggest ball of twine, and I hear they have the best apple pie in the continental US."
Sam sighed, "And the hunt?"
"Sarah Marshall isn't hurting anyone…she can wait a day or two. A hyper housekeeping ghost isn't hurting anyone…'cept maybe a few dust bunnies."
Sam grinned, and pulled out the map. Who knew…just maybe Dean would be right, and everything would turn out okay.