A/N: Characters and universe of Supernatural aren't mine. Quotations of the show aren't my words. Plot inspired by Misswhizzy on Tumblr. Be kind; I'm not new to writing, but this is my first SPN fanfic. Otherwise, enjoy!
That line, "time heals all wounds"?
It's bullshit.
He knew that already, of course. But it didn't stop him from being pissed at the phrase.
Though, admittedly, he was pissed at everything these days. He'd be pissed at the drive-thru kid before he even pulled up at the window, would mow into the girl almost before she could say anything. He could almost hear Sam beside him, saying, "Dude, chill out. She's just a kid. You're projecting."
Almost.
It was an unhealthy habit, he knew, imagining what Sam would be doing if he were here, what he would say. But it seemed to be a reflex, ingrained in him. It wasn't like he didn't do it before Sam…fell. When he'd leave Sam back at whatever shitty motel they were at that week to get food, and he'd go off on someone for cutting him off in traffic…even back then he would have heard that bitch's voice in his head, saying "Geez, Dean, they could have had a good reason."
Some would say that it was only his conscience. They may be right. Sam was always his conscience, always there to reel him back in when he got too caught up in the moment, whether on a hunt or at a bar hustling pool, with some sweaty lumberjack talkin smack about his baby. It would always be Sam to tell him, "He's not worth it, take the money, let's get out of here."
It's probably why they hunted so well together, Dean mused. They'd complemented each other.
Lisa didn't understand. She tried to, she tried damn hard. But how do you explain their life to someone on the outside? How do you explain, to someone who grew up with a home that to Dean, home was a person? How do you explain to someone that had family, friends and a life what it's like to have your family, friend and life fall into a pit with the Devil?
You can't. And Dean was never eloquent to begin with.
In the end it was Dean who'd called it quits. Sam's theory of an apple pie life didn't take into account grief so cavernous that it devoured everything it touched. He didn't want Lisa or Ben to get sucked into this hole that even he himself was afraid of.
So he'd just started to drive. It was easier. It was a cause he could get behind. He'd drive until he felt himself drift, sometimes longer, because damn it all, part of him wanted to get t-boned by a semi. But it never happened, and he'd find a motel to crash in. He'd toss his duffel in a chair, shower if he felt like it, but more often than not, he'd just pass out on the bed closest to the door.
Because he always asked for a double, even now.
And in the morning, he'd start it all over again.
Right now, he was stuck in traffic, something he tried to avoid by taking back roads, but sometimes it was unavoidable. Even though he had nowhere to be, he hated rush hour, because if he wasn't able to focus on what exit he was taking or where he'd turn next, he'd start thinking about Sam. And with that came the pain he worked so hard to keep on lockdown. He couldn't handle it otherwise.
But no, now he was at a standstill, in a seemingly endless stretch of cars, and he was getting jittery. He could only keep shit at bay for so long.
"It's okay, Dean. Everything's gonna to be okay."
And there it was.
Dean hurled a few curses into the emptiness of his car. He hated this. He hated this.
How had the kid done it, anyway? That's what got Dean. Sam had Lucifer inside him, not just some demon, and he'd been able to trap him. How? Sam had Meg in him for a week, watched as she killed somebody, and been powerless. How had he trapped a friggin archangel?
Add that to the list of things Dean will never know.
It was only since Sam fell that Dean realized the enormity of what Sam had done. Now he couldn't get it out of his head. Because he raised that kid, knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. When everything was happening, at the time, Dean really hadn't been thinking about what it was like for Sam, he was barely dealing with what it was like for him. But now…now Dean thought about it all the time.
"I've got Demon blood in me, Dean! This disease pumping through my veins, and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean!"
Dean had never understood how Sam felt about the demon blood. It seemed to affect him a lot more than Dean had realized. Dean had always seen what Yellow-Eyes did as something sick to do to a kid, but nothing to do with Sam himself. To Dean, Sam was just a victim of demonic manipulation, nothing more. But Sam had seen it as a flaw, a taint, as if it were his fault. And Dean didn't get that.
"Do we even know how far off the reservation you've gone? How far from normal, from human?"
Dean swallowed the acid he felt rise in his throat. During that fight, he was so frickin scared. When Cas had showed up and told him that Sam was still using his powers, Dean had been pissed, sure, but more than that he was terrified. Terrified of what it meant, what would happen to Sam because of it.
But he now realized that Sam hadn't known that. Sam only saw rage, and heard Dean's words as they cut through him like a knife.
Because Dean always knew how to hurt the kid, even if he didn't do it himself most of the time, he knew Sam's pressure points. And he knew in that fight he had crossed a line. But he had needed to get through to Sam, get him to listen, and to do that Dean had to cut a little deep. Right?
Dean didn't know anymore.
Because looking back, his actions probably helped push Sam further into Ruby's arms.
Ruby. Dean resisted the urge to punch a hole through his window at the thought of her. Manipulative demon bitch.
That was one thing Dean saw clearly now, now that he'd had time to think. He knew now that what happened…it wasn't Sam's fault. And he hated every minute that he had blamed Sam while he was alive.
How long had Dean lasted, after Sam had died at Cold Oak? A day, two? And Dean remembered the pain that drove him to run into the arms of a demon himself. It had taken only two days for Dean to sell his soul, because he couldn't take it anymore. Why the hell hadn't Dean remembered this when he'd jumped down Sam's throat about Ruby? Sam had four whole months without him. He knew now, they were screwed up when the other was gone, and they did stupid things.
He hated himself for spending so much time pissed at Sam. So much time that he now would never get back. And now...
Suddenly, it came to him.