The title is in reference to the Metallica song because I think it's so fitting for the brothers, especially with the rift that has grown between them. No matter what has happened they are brothers first and foremost, and I think they need some reminding of that.

This is the first time I've used lyrics in a fic so let me know if it works.

Disclaimer: I don't own them.

Nothing Else Matters

Sam sat on the bed of the dark motel room in silence, thinking. He'd been doing a lot of that lately. Dean had gone out about three hours ago. He vaguely wondered when he would be coming back, or if he would be coming back.

It used to be if Dean went out it was only for an hour or two, unless of course he picked up a girl. That may have required a little extra time, but a lifetime of keeping tabs on each other when their father had been on hunts leaving them by themselves was a hard habit to break, so Dean would usually call to let Sam know he'd be a while longer.

Dean would usually tell Sam where he was going and ask him if he wanted to come. Since it was usually to a bar, Sam typically declined, choosing instead to do research for whatever hunt they were on, earning a scoff from his older brother and a comment like, "You're such a girl." Sam would roll his eyes and inwardly laugh at his older sibling. That was Dean. That was then.

Now Dean would just leave without saying anything or Sam would just get an "I'm going out" thrown at him as Dean walked out and shut the door. It just reminded Sam of how messed up things were between them now, and how it was his fault. He had screwed up royally and what hurt worse than not being able to forgive himself was Dean not being able to forgive him. Sam could live with not being able to forgive himself, but he didn't know if he could live without Dean forgiving him.

Yet he knew he didn't deserve forgiveness. Some things can't be forgiven, and he was pretty sure that bringing on the end of the world had to be number one on that list.

He had betrayed his big brother, the person who had given everything to protect him his whole life without a complaint or a second thought. He had chosen a demon over him, choosing to believe in one of the things they had grown up to hate and fight, who was inhuman and manipulative, over the man he used to think could do anything when they were kids.

At the time he kept telling himself it wasn't true that he was stabbing Dean in the back. He told himself that a lot of things weren't true. Deep down, he knew better. He had been stupid and selfish. He had brought about Hell on Earth, opened the door for Lucifer himself. How messed up was that? And every step of the way Dean had tried to warn him, but Sam convinced himself he was doing what was right, that his intentions were good - despite downing the demon blood and lying and using the powers the bastard demon who had destroyed his family gave him - because he would kill Lillith. He would make her suffer for making him watch as Dean had been ripped to shreds. He would stop the Apocalypse. Instead he had started it.

He had just wanted to take Azazel's poison and use it against him. He couldn't rid his blood of it so he had decided to make something good of it. He had accomplished the opposite. He had played right into what they wanted. Azazel would be proud. The thought made bile rise in his throat.

"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! I'm a whole new level of freak! And I'm just trying to take this - this curse... and make something good out of it. Because I have to."

Maybe his intentions were good at first, but he just couldn't see how anymore. He may not have known his actions would free Lucifer, but deep down he had known what that road was paved with, and the road to Hell was paved with good intentions.

"Slippery slope, brother. Just wait and see. Because it's gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends."

"I know what you did to that demon, Sam. I can feel what's inside you. If you think you have good intentions, think again."

A chill ran down his spine. He had hurt and betrayed everyone he had ever cared about. And if it wasn't for him, none of this would have happened. If it wasn't for him his mother would still be alive, his father would still be alive, Dean would have gotten to grow up normal. Why did it have to be him? He had asked Azazel, Ruby, and even Lucifer the same question. The answer had been the same:

"It had to be you."

So this really was his destiny after all. A couple of years ago his so-called destiny was distant, undetermined, and somewhat unreal. As afraid as he was of what he could supposedly become after learning what his father had told Dean: "He said I might have to kill you, Sammy," he had thought he could change it. Once again, that was then. Now his course of action had made his worst fear true; he had become something evil, and he had let it happen. All he had ever wanted was to be normal and he let himself truly become a freak. No. Worse: a monster. He was no better than the evil things he and Dean had hunted all their lives. Gordon and the others had been right all along.

"You're not human, Sam."

He thought of how disappointed his father would be in him. Maybe his father wouldn't have let him go this far. He thought about what their father had told Dean: save him or you have to kill him. His Dad knew what Sam could become. Had he always known? Maybe his father would have killed him before it had come to this. Dean couldn't do it. He had said he would rather die.

Sam wondered if Dean would be so hesitant now. Sometimes it truly felt like Dean hated him. He could sense his brother's disappointment and resentfulness towards him. It practically rolled off of him sometimes. Sam couldn't blame him. He deserved it. He had betrayed Dean, and when he had needed his brother the most.

"You were the one that I depended on the most. And you let me down in ways that I can't even..."

His whole life Dean had always been there for Sam, and Sam had abandoned him, trusted Ruby over him. How could he have done that? He had always trusted Dean more than anyone, trusted him with his life, and he went against his brother's wish and teamed up with a demon and used his abilities.

That was bad enough without adding the demon blood into the mix. He knew it was wrong, but it had been necessary to strengthen his powers in order to kill Lillith. That was a lie he had told himself. It had made him feel powerful, and for once in his life, stronger than his older brother. Their whole lives Dean had called the shots, and when Sam had assured Dean he knew what he was doing, to have Dean tell him he was wrong, it pissed him off. It made him want to keep pushing, because why couldn't he call the shots for once? Why couldn't he be right? With the blood he felt invincible, ready to take on anything. It was all in his head. It was just what had kept him coming back for more.

He'd been mad at Dean for not trusting him, but now he knew that he had given him no reason to. At first he had told himself he didn't tell Dean because he was trying to protect him. That was another lie. Sam had liked his little secret, made him feel tough, but he was also ashamed of what he had done and didn't want to see that shame through Dean's eyes. Dean had just been trying to look out for him like he always had.

To top it all off he had managed to free Lucifer from Hell, and if that wasn't horrifying enough now he finds out he is his chosen vessel. Lucifer had told him he would say yes and let him in. Sam didn't believe he would, but the more he thought about it the more it seemed it was possible. He'd been weak before. He couldn't let that happen. He may be a monster, but he couldn't say yes to Lucifer. The fate of the world literally hung in the balance, and by saying yes, he automatically damned everyone. And he had already hurt the ones he cared about enough. He had hurt Dean enough.

He had to prove that there was still good in him, that he could still make the right decision and make his brother proud. He had told Lucifer he would kill himself before he said yes to him, and Lucifer had told him he would just bring him back. Sam didn't put it past the Devil to bluff about that, but it was the only shot he had left. Lucifer would not take him.

Coming back from his thoughts, Sam absentmindedly wiped away the wetness on his cheeks, unaware of when he started crying. He took a shaky breath and steadied himself. He knew what he had to do.