Sam stood staring after Dean's retreating figure. He watched as his brother opened the driver's side door and climbed into the car. His mind refused to comprehend what his brother had just said. Slowly he walked to the Impala, opened his door and climbed in. Closing the door he turned his head, deliberately staring out the car window. Didn't Dean understand why he'd done what he did? Didn't Dean understand that he didn't know that Ruby was not on their side? Didn't Dean know how sorry he was? He then remembered Dean's voicemail and realized that it didn't matter anyway. He wouldn't be alive too much longer for Dean to distrust. What he couldn't understand was why Dean hadn't killed him before now. Not that he blamed Dean. He even agreed with him to some extent. He'd brought about the Apocalypse. He didn't deserve to live. Being killed by your own brother hurt but it was for the best. Sam sniffed as two traitorous tears trickled down his cheeks.
Dean drove silently, wishing he could take back this entire year. Wishing he could go back to finding Sam with Bobby and start all over again from that moment. How differently he'd do things! A sniff brought him out of his thoughts and he glanced toward his brother. Sam was facing the window and, from the reflection, Dean could see tears on his brother's cheeks. Dean sighed loudly. "Sam..." he started.
"Shut up, Dean," Sam said. His tone was bitter, dejected, and hopeless.
"Alright, that's it," Dean said. His patience gone, he pulled the car over and turned toward his brother. "I'm sick of this, Sam. I can't help how I feel. What do you want from me?" Dean demanded.
"Nothing. Just go on and do it, Dean. You were right. I don't deserve to live after what I've done. Just go on and do it already. Put me out of my misery. Hell, put yourself out of your misery having to be around me."
Dean's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "What the hell are you talking about, Sam?"
Sam laughed but it was harsh and humorless. "Your voicemail. Just go on and do it. You have Ruby's knife. I'd use that, just to be absolutely sure I die and stay dead. Salt and burn me. Don't just bury me and hope. I don't want to hurt anyone else ever again. I wish I'd never hurt you but it's too late for that now."
Dean's fear and confusion multiplied tenfold. How on earth could things have gotten this bad between us? Surely he knows I would never kill him! What the hell? "What the hell are you talking about, Sam?" Dean repeated. "I called you to apologize! How did you get that I'm going to kill you from my voicemail?"
Sam chuckled that same humorless chuckle that sent chills down Dean's spine. "That was some apology, Dean." Dean watched as Sam pulled out his cell phone, dialed up his voice mail, and hit speaker. The voicemail started immediately. He heard his own voice and all the color drained from his face as he listened, his stomach clenching. "Listen to me you blood sucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster and there's no going back." Sam disconnected the call and pocketed his cell phone again. He still hadn't looked at Dean. He suddenly heard something strange. A scrabbling sound then the familiar creak of the door opening. Then the sound of someone being sick. Looking around he saw Dean's door open and Dean leaning over, throwing up his dinner. When Dean was done, he stood up carefully and walked away from the car. Then Sam watched as Dean fell to his knees and let out a heart shattering scream.
Terrified, Sam threw open his door and got out. "Dean? What's wrong?"
Dean turned and stared at Sam and Sam was astonished to see the twin tear streaks on his cheeks. Sam had never seen Dean this upset before and he had no idea why. It was his voicemail message after all. Surely Dean knew what he'd said.
Sam shifted uncomfortably as Dean continued to stare silently at him. Oh my God, Dean thought. Those damn interfering asshats! No wonder Sam's been acting off. He's been waiting for me to kill him. Literally. Dean walked up to Sam and cringed when Sam flinched and unconsciously stepped back. "Sam..." he started again.
"Save it, Dean. I don't know why you're so upset but there's no reason to be. I know what I did and I know why you have to do what you said. Just go on and do it. I can't take this anymore. I destroyed the world. Hell, I destroyed us. I'm so sorry, Dean. If you can't trust anything else I say to you, please trust that. I am so sorry for everything." Sam turned and walked to the back of the Impala, popping the trunk open. Reaching in, he first grabbed the salt bag and the can of gasoline followed by matches. He set these items on the ground and then grabbed Ruby's knife and held it, handle out, to Dean. "Here. Go ahead. I won't fight or try and defend myself. Just do it quickly and be sure and salt and burn when you're done. Tell Bobby I'm sorry." He waited for Dean to take the knife and plunge it into him.
Dean moved so fast Sam didn't see it until he realized he was no longer holding the knife. Dean had grabbed the handle and had thrown the knife as hard as he could over Sam's head. It landed twenty feet from the Impala and gleamed in the moonlight. "What is wrong with you, Dean?" Sam asked. "I know the knife doesn't need to be clean but why on earth did you throw it?" Sam turned and started to walk back to retrieve the knife when he felt Dean grab his arm, forcing him to stop.
"Sam, look at me." Sam refused to even face his brother. He was struggling, trying to wrench his arm free so that he could get the knife. "Stop it!" Dean yelled. "Look at me, dammit!" Sam was so startled by Dean's raised voice he obeyed without even thinking about it. Dean's face was streaked with tears. Sam stared at Dean as Dean stared right back at him. Dean could see the hopelessness in Sam's eyes. The pure agony and defeat was apparent in his posture and his expression. Looking deeper he saw, really saw his brother's eyes for the first time since that night in the convent. They were just as they'd always been. He'd been too late to stop Sam from starting the Apocalypse. But maybe, just maybe, he wasn't too late to save them.
"Sammy," Dean said and the astonishment on Sam's face at his nickname startled Dean. When was the last time I called him 'Sammy?' Thinking back he realized it had been at least two months or more. "Sammy," he said again, "I don't know how my message got changed but it did. I called you and told you I owed you a serious beat down. I told you that I wasn't Dad. I told you we were brothers and that that doesn't ever change. I tried to tell you how sorry I was but the message cut off before I could say that. I could never kill you, Sam. You're my brother. I loved you the first time I saw you and I've loved you ever since. That has never changed. Am I mad? Hell yeah. Am I angry to the point of fratricide? Hell no. I raised you, Sammy. I could no more kill you than I could junk the Impala."
Throughout Dean's speech, Sam had been shaking his head in disbelief. "But...but I heard you. Hell you heard you! You said it."
"No, I didn't. The Angels had to have done it. Sam, they wanted you to start the Apocalypse. In order to do that they had to make sure we were working on opposite sides. They had to make sure we were separated. Hell Zachariah all but admitted he'd do whatever it took to get you to do what he needed you to. I guess this is what he meant. Please, Sammy, please believe me. I never said that. I never would."
Sam looked at Dean and saw the honesty in his eyes. He nodded once and watched as Dean let out a breath Sam wasn't sure Dean knew he'd been holding. Then Dean spoke again. "Just answer me one question. Why? Why did you trust her?"
Sam looked down and shrugged like he was a little boy again being yelled at for eating all of the Lucky Charms. "No, Sam. You owe me an explanation. Why?"
Sam looked up and stared at Dean. Sam's eyes filled with tears again and his lower lip began to tremble. "You...you were..." Sam stopped, unable to get the words out. He took a deep breath then forced himself to continue. "You were dead, Dean. I had to do it by myself. I needed you and you weren't there. You made that deal because you couldn't live without me. How did you expect me to live without you? I tried everything I could to get you back. Then Cas brought you back but I was still scared. What if Lilith came after you again? What if your contract was still enforceable? Don't you get it? I couldn't lose you again. I had to go after Lilith. I had to kill her. I had to make sure...make sure...I just...I couldn't do it again, Dean. I couldn't bury you again," Sam finished and by now he was openly sobbing. Sinking to the ground, Sam pulled his knees to his chest, buried his head in his knees, and sobbed.
Dean stared in shock at his little brother as Sam sat on the ground in front of him sobbing uncontrollably. Dean had never heard Sam so distraught and grief stricken, not even after Jess. He'd never seen this depth of grief, nor heard this much desperation in Sam's voice before. Thinking back on his brother's words Dean realized the desperation was Sam pleading for Dean to understand. To forgive him. To love him and, most importantly, to never leave him again. He suddenly remembered the Mystery Spot. That Wednesday when Sam had engulfed him in a bear hug for no apparent reason. The look on Sam's face had been heartbreaking. Dean knew something else had happened but when he'd asked all Sam would say was that he'd had a really weird dream. Dean had joked about it, never realizing what hell the damn Trickster put Sam through until much later.
Dean sank to his knees beside Sam and wrapped his arms around his little brother. He could feel Sam's whole body shaking with the force of his grief and he tightened his arms around him. He gently pushed Sam's knees down and pulled until Sam was practically in his lap. Sam lay in his brother's arms and listened to his brother's heart beating strong and steady under his ear. As Sam began to calm himself, he wrapped his arms around Dean whispering, "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry," over and over again.
"Shh, Sammy, shh, it's okay. It's okay little brother," Dean whispered. Then he said the words Sam had been desperate to hear since the convent, "I forgive you." At those words, Sam's sobs increased again and he tightened his arms around Dean. At last Sam loosened his hold and sat back a little. Dean looked at his brother. "We'll get through this, Sammy. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you away this year when you needed me. I'm sorry I pushed you to Ruby. I'm sorry I called you a monster. And I'm sorry I said I don't trust you. You're my little brother. We still have lots to work out between us but we'll fix it, Sammy. I promise you, we'll fix it."
"Just don't give up on me, Dean. Please," Sam said softly.
"Never have, never will, Sammy," Dean said and returned Sam's smile. "Now, let's head for Bobby's. We've got work to do."