The Cat
K Hanna Korossy
The first time, he was too young to realize how close he'd come. Even when the windows of their home blew out and Dad caught him up and carried him away from the burning house with baby Sammy wailing in his arms, all Dean could think was Mommy! Four-year-olds had no sense of mortality, only loss.
It wouldn't be until the second time he carried Sam out of a fire that it really hit him, how they'd cheated death as kids.
But it wasn't for himself that Dean trembled in the aftershocks.
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The best way to get Sam to do something was to tell him it was impossible.
Dean hadn't meant his words to be a challenge: I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it. He should've known when Sam lifted his chin and declared, Watch me, that he'd find a way.
He would never know for sure if his brother'd had any inkling he was trading another life for Dean's.
It was a price he'd never wanted to pay…but Sam was so friggin' happy to have him back. Dean just swore on the grave of the guy who'd died for him that the life he'd bought wouldn't be in vain.
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What's dead should stay dead.
Not literally, that's true. The machines had been keeping him alive, and the reaper Sam told him about obviously hadn't sealed the deal, again. But after what the demon did to him back at that cabin, and then with the semi almost finishing the job, Dean knew he'd pretty much been gone.
Until Dad somehow swapped his life for him.
His life hadn't been worth one other person's, let alone two. Let alone John Winchester's.
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Turned out there were worse things than your loved one giving his life for you. Like your loved one trying to take it away.
It wasn't Sam behind his little brother's sneer, but his face was still the last thing Dean saw as Meg tightened Sam's finger on the trigger. Dean's last thought when he hit the water was Sorry, Sammy.
He almost couldn't believe it when he woke again, sputtering and weak in Jo's arms.
This time he knew what to do with his…third? fourth? chance, and he quickly set off to save Sam.
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He didn't remember the next time. Or the hundred times after that. Wouldn't have even known he'd died if Sam hadn't told him.
Dean could see the truth of it in Sam's eyes, the damage done by witnessing Dean's death over and over. Sam clung to sanity with the same determination he clung to Dean with those first few days after.
It was the first time Dean had felt pure relief at cheating death…and pure selfishness at having made the deal that counted down the days until he didn't come back.
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Officially, of course, he died a month later in an explosion in a police station.
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The hellhound's attack was as bad as Dean had imagined. Sam screaming in the background made it infinitely worse.
It was the last thing he could remember when he crawled out of his grave. Memories of Hell would come later; all that filled his mind at that moment had been find Sam.
Sam had changed, though, and Dean would later wish he'd been able to return sooner. And a few months later, wondered if he should've come back at all.
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He saw Lucifer-in-Sam kill him in the future…but of course, that never happened...right?
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The heart giving out in his aging body was the second time he'd experienced a heart attack, and it hurt just as badly. There was a peace that came with old age, though, even the artificial old age that came from losing a bet to a witch, and Dean could think of worse ways to die as he gasped out his final breaths.
It didn't surprise him too much when he woke up alive and thirty-one again.
Surprised him a lot more to see the depth of relief in Bobby's eyes, and the honest-to-God tears in Sam's. And maybe…maybe life wasn't always a curse, after all.
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The blast of the shotgun didn't hurt nearly as badly as having seen Sam lying dead beside him.
Heaven turned out to be just a different version of Hell. Yeah, maybe Sam was right and it'd been twisted to manipulate Dean; wouldn't be the first time the angels had pulled that one on him. But there was just enough truth there to stab deep.
He wasn't exactly glad to find himself waking up in a blood-soaked bed…but wasn't it a bitch that living had turned out to be the lesser evil?
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Life with Sam, at least. Because life without Sam…
He'd agreed to this. Hadn't promised in so many words because Sam couldn't make him promise the impossible. But he'd agreed to let Sam go and try to move on without him. Dean had met his little brother's eyes in Stull and silently released him. And with a look of peace, Sam had fallen into the Pit.
They said cats had nine lives. Dean had lived even more. But, ironically, it was this one, with his heart still beating and his lungs still moving air, that destroyed him the most.
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Then Sam returned.
And Dean came back to life once more.
The End