I haven't written a multi-chapter fic since the end of season 5. Apparently devastation brings it out of me but this one has been much harder to write than Sound of Madness was. I can think of many possible reasons for that but won't bore you with it. So, here's how it goes. I'll post a chapter a week, same night every week (time could vary a bit) until the whole fic is posted. I haven't completely finished the fic yet but I only have a couple more chapters and a whole lot of polishing. If all goes as planned, the last chapter should be posted the week before Supernatural returns from hiatus.

For those of you who always support me: thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Prologue

I've been waiting for this moment

It's time for the battle

Even if I never make it

Take me home

I might never get my story

Carved in stone

But I will rise again

The fight is to the end

Sam struggled down the stairs of the bunker, Dean's body in his arms as heavy as the weight in his heart. How he had made it back to the bunker, he couldn't recall. He could only slightly remember the faces from the homeless encampment and how someone had called out to him, asking him what had happened to Metatron….or Marv, as they called him.

"THE SON OF A BITCH KILLED MY BROTHER!" Sam had screamed at the crowd and they had parted to let him pass. The rest of the journey was a blur.

As Sam headed toward Dean's room, his arms began to tremble from the strain. The bathroom was closer so Sam pushed open the door with his foot and carefully laid his brother on the cold tile floor.

Cold like his body.

Sam smothered a sob as he removed Dean's bloody jacket. Dean's stillness in death made Sam wonder if he was possibly at peace now. The First Blade had been a heavy burden, piled upon years of more burdens than any one human should carry. Could there ever be peace for a Winchester? If Castiel had succeeded in Heaven, could Dean find peace there? But what if Metatron had won? Sam had no idea of knowing what had happened after Metatron disappeared and until now, he hadn't given it much thought. All that mattered was Dean. And Dean was dead.

Sam wet a washcloth under the sink faucet and began to weep when he realized he'd made sure the water was warm because Dean would probably bitch if it was cold.

"Dean, I'm so sorry," he whispered as he gently washed Dean's battered face. After the last traces of blood were gone, Sam gathered his brother into his arms and carried him to the bedroom he'd been so excited about finally having and laid him on the bed.

Memory foam…..it remembers me.

Tears filled Sam's eyes again as he remembered how happy Dean had looked at that moment. They'd finally found a home, a place for Dean to nest, and now Dean was gone.

Sam lost track of how long he stood gazing down at his brother's body but he finally retreated back to the main living area, shed his jacket and poured himself a drink. As he sat in the dark, attempting to drown his sorrow, he thought back to all the things he'd said to Dean the past few months.

No, Dean, I wouldn't. Same circumstances, I wouldn't.

You can't stand the thought of being alone.

You want to work, let's work. If you want to be brothers…

How could he have been so stupid? He'd wanted to think he wouldn't do the same things Dean had done if it came to deciding his brother's fate. He'd wanted to think he was better than that, better than Dean, better at making the right choice.

To hell with the right choice.

Sam tossed back the last of his drink. There was only one choice to make now and he knew it. Either Crowley was going to get Dean out of this or Sam was going to make sure the demon died a horrible death. One thing for certain, Sam was not going on without his brother.

To be continued...

Thanks for reading! Comments are always welcome! See you next week!