Ain't No Me
Summary (excerpt): "If it'd been me making the sacrifice, you'd be free to have the normal life you always wanted. There's the difference, Sam; you can be happy here without me."
Disclaimer: I don't own them. Just play.
*~.~*
The ride back to the bunker was long and silent. Sam slept for most of it, and when he wasn't sleeping, he was pretending to sleep. Dean knew the difference. He knew it meant Sam didn't wanna talk, and that was fine by him. For now at least.
When they did get back, when they were both inside and grabbing their bags to take them to their rooms, Dean had had enough of the silence. He needed to talk. So he started talking.
"It's not about makin' the right choice, Sammy," he started. Sam stopped and turned to him. "It's trusting me to make the choice that's keeps you breathin'. That's always gonna be the one I choose, and if that means you can't trust me... If you're telling me that I can't be your brother, then I guess I should just check out now because you're the only reason I keep going at all. If you don't get that...if you don't care...then I have no damn reason left on this planet to stick around."
"Dean-"
"No, Sam. Don't tell me that I don't get it," he interrupted. "I get it. I do. What I don't get is when the hell you started caring more about what's best for the hunt than what's best for the family," he said. Then he laughed. "You used to get so angry...when me or Dad would do something stupid like knowingly almost get ourselves killed just to ice a ghost or whatever. You'd get so mad and you'd start your fight with him about how he cared more about the hunt than he did us."
"But I was wrong," Sam defended, his jaw working to hold back the feeling of guilt in that statement. "Dad cared about us."
"Yeah he did. That's why he...sacrificed himself to keep me alive," Dean said, attempting to hide the emotion it caused him to say it.
"Did you forget how much that hurt you?" Sam asked. "Because I remember how much it killed you inside to know that."
"And I know how much my deal to save you pissed you off, too," Dean replied. "I mean, come on, man. We sacrifice ourselves so much, all the time. Not even just for eachother? We've dedicated our whole lives to saving everyone else's asses. Is it really so much to ask for something in return?"
"You mean sacrificing the greater good of the world in order to keep me alive?" Sam asked incredulously.
"No, Sam," he shook his head. "Not sacrificing you just to get rid of some of the crap part of it. It ain't worth it to me. No one on this planet is worth more to me than you." He watched his brother look down and shake his head dismissively. "Ya know, maybe that doesn't mean anything to you anymore," he smiled sadly. "Maybe you're ready to die, first chance you might get to sacrifice yourself for somethin' big. But you know what? I'm not ready to let that happen. I won't ever be ready to let that happen, and if that makes me less of a brother to you, I guess I gotta settle for the demotion, because no matter what you are to me, Sammy, no matter what you wanna call me, it won't ever change the fact that I love you more than anything else in the whole world. So I guess I'm just screwed," he said quietly. "You say you can't trust me, but hell, Sam, I can't even trust myself. Not when it comes to you." Sam met his eyes then. "That's always been a problem for me. Or at least I used to think so. I used to think it was a weakness, something that held me back. And ya know...maybe it is. I'm a gigantic screw-up. I know it. But I wouldn't change anything I've done. Not one single damn thing. And I know that that's selfish as hell, and messed up and scary to think, especially after everything and everyone we've lost in the process.
"It's messed up because it's not just you that I'm saving you for. It's me, too. I can't do this alone, Sammy. I can't be here if you're not. We been to this rodeo so many times. Both of us. We don't work without the other, job or no job. I ain't gonna go off and live the apple pie life again, 'cause that ain't me and faking happiness doesn't make you any less dead inside. So goddamnit, Sammy, if you can't see what I'm trying to tell you... The only alternative to keeping you alive, for me, is a gun in my mouth. It's always only ever been that. And screw you, by the way, for makin' me promise to stick around after you jumped into the pit."
"The problem, Dean, is that you're so willing to sacrifice you, but you'll never let me be the one making the sacrifice," Sam told him. "Just...admit to me that if it had been you that went through the trials, if you were the one standing there in the church, at death's door, you wouldn't have stopped, no matter what I'd said to you."
"Because I'd have been leaving you here safe," Dean argued. "If it'd been me making the sacrifice, you'd be free to have the normal life you always wanted. There's the difference, Sam; you can be happy here without me." He turned away then, grabbing his bag from the floor. Sam stared after him, unable to bring himself to respond. "Don't worry about it," he said quieter. "Once I clean up the mess I made, I'll be outta your hair for good," he said without looking back, then headed toward his room.
Sam stood there stubbornly unwilling to let go of his previously stated terms, yet feeling guilty as hell about everything his brother had just said to him. But it wouldn't change anything. He couldn't let it change anything...
*~.~*
When it was all said and done, Abaddon dead and Crowley back in his place as King of Hell (at Dean's begrudging compromise since he had pretty much saved them a few times during this mess), Metatron destroyed by his own kind, Gadreel stripped of his wings and sentenced to live out the rest of his days as a human, and Heaven restocked with all of its feathery douche-bags, Sam discovers just how literal Dean had been.
TBC...
AN: I am willing to post the next chapter without waiting, if I get enough feedback tonight.
PS: It's gonna hurt.
Also, please check out fandom-con dot com. We've got cool stuff going on and awesome raffles- new one starts the 10th :)