There were a few things in life that Dean Winchester was positive of at this moment in time.
One was that he wanted that damn First Blade in his hand. The second was that Samuel Winchester was a complete heartless bastard.
"Sam." He growled, his eyes on his prize as Sam pinned him to the wall, looking more worried than Dean had seen him in years.
"Knock it off." His brother snapped at him, but Dean barely spared him a glance, his whole being focused solely on the blade. His blade. "Dean." Sam hissed and the older Winchester hissed, trying to push the freaking giant off of him.
"Let me go!" he howled and even to his own ears, his voice sounded like some else's.
"Why? So you can get another kick as you power up? Nice try." Sam told him and there was a click as Dean fought against the metal cuff around his left hand. Normally, this wouldn't pose as much of a problem considering he could just pick it. Unfortunately, his mind wasn't thinking so clearly and he opted for just trying to rip it off.
"Let. Me. Go." Dean growled, an animal like sound coming from the back of his threat "You selfish, heartless, son of a bitch." He finished with a wave of hatred. Sam didn't reply at first, instead walking over to attempt to clean up the blood on Dean's wrist from him fighting against his restraints.
"I hate you." The older of the two told him flatly "I wish I had let you die. I wish I had let you die the first time and the time after that and the time after that. I wish I didn't have to bring you back. Why can't you just leave me alone?" he howled and Sam seemed to freeze for a fraction of a second. Through the fog, Dean knew it really hadn't gone over like that, but he didn't care.
"That was all it was about growing up, you know that? You. Always you. Watch out for Sam. Take care of Sam. Make sure Sam is okay. Go check on Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam. And I never gave a damn because I adored you. I tried to shield you from just about everything. Then you were gone and you know what I realized? Nothing. I had nothing that actually defined me because I wasted my entire life on you. You think I wanted to be this? All the time?" he let out a cold laugh and a hint of satisfaction came when he felt Sam freeze, his hand shaking for a fraction of a second. Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, pushing him back so that Sam could look him straight in the eye, searching to see if there was truth in his words.
"I hate you." He repeated with a chilly smile and Sam let him go, looking slightly dazed. Like everything he had ever known had just crashed down on him and caught on fire. "After everything I did for you, you let me fall. You drinking demon blood and starting the apocalypse? I never once left your side. I may have lost faith in you, but I stayed there and gave you a chance to earn it back. I screw up once and you disown me. You call me selfish? Me? Crowley is kinder to me than you are. He understands me better too. Better than you. Do you know how degrading that is? To have a demon tell you that you hate yourself more than anyone he has ever seen? Hmm, I wonder what drove me to that? I'm sure it wasn't my twisted father and perfect little brother. According to them, I can carry the whole God damn world on my shoulders." He smirked, his eyes falling back onto the blade. God, he needed it.
"Shut up." Sam told him and Dean let his eyes drift back towards him. The blood had completely left his face and honestly, he looked as though he wanted to be sick.
"Sorry, am I getting to you?" Dean chuckled and Sam gave him a tortured look, but didn't respond. "Why don't you just kill me? That's what you want, isn't it?"
"No." Sam answered stubbornly, his face masking as he stood up again, wiping blood off of him.
"Then why am I here? You can't keep locked up forever."
"You'll come down from this." Sam said softly and Dean arched an eyebrow.
"Who said I'm on anything? Maybe this is just me being sick of you. Don't doubt what I say, I really hate you." He said calmly and there was a snap as Sam suddenly seemed to lose his edge and punch him in the face.
"I say." He hissed "I say that that stupid blade is screwing with your head and this isn't you. Is isn't you because I know you better than any damn demon, so I swear to God, if you don't snap out of this…" He trailed off, leaving the threat to hang and for Dean to curse as he grasped his gushing nose with his free hand.
"Bitch." He hissed and something about that word seemed to cause almost physical pain to the younger. "You're just like him, you know that? Always hitting when things don't go your way."
Sam stared at him blankly, looking positively petrified at the last statement, but didn't say a word. They weren't ready to go there, not when Dean was like this. Sam certainly didn't want to know if he was referring to their father and if that statement held truth to it. If it did he didn't think he could live with the guilt and horror.
The next few hours were torture for both Winchesters. Dean screamed and kicked, glowering and fighting to get free, to obtain his blade. Sam solemnly restraining him as he ignored the cruel words of his broken brother being thrown at him like grenades.
"It is almost over."
"Sixteen hours." Sam whispered, looking up at the angel who had suddenly appeared "He killed Abbadon and… I almost let him go after Metatron and Godreel." He gave a wry laugh "Imagine If I had."
"It is almost out of his system." Cas promised, looking sternly at Dean from the other side of the room. He hadn't been happy when he learned of his friend's choice to bare the mark of Cain, he knew it could turn him into a demon, and a powerful one. Luckily, Sam seemed to have stopped him before he went on killing.
"He held it for maybe fifteen minutes." Sam said faintly "One person dead. Just one."
"It is a powerful blade Sam, more powerful than most items I have ever seen."
"He's going to want it back."
"We won't let him." Cas assured him calmly "I will somehow have it destroyed if that is what it takes."
Sam nodded weakly, looking over at his brother tiredly. Dean had stopped fighting now, slowly sinking into the ground with exhaustion marring his face, simply claiming his hatred whenever he had Sam's attention now through weak gasps of breath.
Walking over to him, Sam wiped more blood from his wrists, bandaging once more with a sigh.
"Will you stop ripping these off? You're going to cut a vein or something." He murmured and Dean glowered at him.
"Get away from me." He snapped "Maybe if you're lucky I'll die from blood loss."
Sam didn't respond, putting the already red towel to the side as he checked his brother for further injuries he may have inflicted on himself.
"I hate you." He snarled again and Sam narrowed his eyes, mashing his teeth together at how that still stung, no matter how many times the bastard said it.
"Yeah? Well I love you, so tough." He grumbled, feeling incredibly childish. No doubt if Dean was in his right mind he would have gagged and called him a girl. They usually didn't say those words out loud. When Sam was little he could remember Dean saying it to him once or twice.
"Dean, Jacob Wiley's parents tell him that they love him every day!"
"Oh yeah? Bet you I tell you more."
"Not uh!"
"Sure I do, let's see how many times you can count it."
Sam hadn't realized until a couple days later, but Dean did tell him more than anyone else did. Through the way he made him lunch, to how he stuck up for him and kept the bullies away from him. Almost everything he did was a love you. Dean had never needed to say it.
"Don't touch me." Dean replied instead and Sam backed away, sitting next to Cas warily as he stared at his brother's pulsing form.
"It will pass." Cas said again gently and Sam nodded, his lips pursed in pain.
One hour. Two. Three. Four.
How long did they have to wait?
Five. Six. Seven.
Would it ever wear off?
Eight. Nine.
"Sammy?"
"Thank God." Sam breathed as he stumbled out of his seat and scrambled towards his brother. Dean looked tired and confused, his one hand limply by his side as the other hung from the metal cuff.
"Happened?" Dean mumbled and Sam clicked the cuff off, gently trying to rouse Dean enough to get him to a bed.
"Blade had you freak out a little." Sam told him softly, trying not to notice this was the first time in a long time he hadn't smelled alcohol on him.
"Did I hurt you?" Dean asked and Sam froze suddenly unsure of how to answer that. "Sammy?"
"I'm fine Dean… Just… You know I don't want you dead, right?" he asked and Dean gave him a sleepy look of confusion.
"Uh…Yeah Sam. I know."
"And that I didn't mean a lot of those things I've been saying?"
"Okay."
"And that I really am grateful for what you do for me? Well, not all the time, but-"
"Jesus Sammy." Dean frowned, struggling to stay awake "What happened? Are you alright?" he asked and Sam licked his lips, looking at his brother for a moment before easing him into the bed.
"We need to get rid of that blade." He said instead and Dean looked alarm.
"Sam, what happened?" he asked again, but his eyes were already closing. "Tell me later, okay? Promise?" he asked, but Sam didn't respond. He didn't know if he could promise that.
Some things were better left unsaid.