There's No Forgetting
They had walked in silence on the pier back to the car. Dean had owned up to remembering his time in Hell, all four months of it. Sam had wanted to bear the burden with Dean, but Dean wouldn't share and after he had explained why, Sam couldn't hold it against him. Dean had been right. Though Sam couldn't even begin to imagine what Dean had seen and gone through, he had to believe that it had been horrific enough for Dean to protect Sam from it. It hurt Sam that he couldn't help Dean, but he understood and respected his brother's decision.
Sam had been amazed at how well Dean had been holding up considering the nightmares he'd been having. Sam understood why Dean had been resorting to alcohol, but he was worried about what would happen to Dean when the alcohol stopped working, when there would be nothing strong enough to deaden the pain. Still, despite all that he had gone through, Dean had emerged from Hell seemingly stronger and more determined than ever, as if all the other baggage that had weighed him down before had been lifted. He couldn't imagine how suffering in Hell could have done that. If anything, Dean should have been even more burdened from what he had experienced, but he wasn't.
Sam had watched with relieved delight as his brother took joy from the simplest of things such as eating a large pretzel at Oktoberfest or the wished sandwich, even if later Dean had paid the price for his wish going bad. He enjoyed watching Dean flirt as he always had with beautiful women like Jaime, and just now, as he caught him waving and smiling at Audrey with her teddy bear. Sam watched in wonder at how Dean had managed to keep himself whole, to care so much about the humanity around him, knowing that those memories of Hell were going to stay with him forever, that, as Dean had said, there was no forgetting. Dean could have come back haunted, damaged in ways unimaginable, but he hadn't, at least not in ways visible to Sam or that Dean would share with him. Sam wondered how long Dean could keep it up, but Sam was determined to be by his side through it all.
Knowing the truth now, Sam felt a twinge of guilt for resenting Dean after hearing Uriel's challenge to him. He had assumed that Dean was just being stubborn again, treating Sam like a child who was breakable or who couldn't handle himself. He had always hated that, but hearing Dean tell his side, made him realize how wrong he had been.
Sam had been worried lately about his negative thoughts. It had seemed he was more inclined to think the worst of a person or a situation than of the best. He had never been that kind of person before and he wondered if tapping into his powers was changing him in ways that he wasn't realizing. But how could they? He was helping people. It made him feel great to save more people than killing them. There couldn't be anything wrong with that, could there? Then Dean's words about how Ruby was probably telling him what he had wanted to hear so that he would tap into his powers had come back to haunt him. Dean had been right. She had pointed out how much his powers could help people preserve their lives when her knife couldn't. She had told him that he was doing a good thing by saving the hosts. It didn't seem wrong to believe her then, but hearing Dean say it accusingly to him, it did sound like a trick, a way to convince him to use his powers and it gave him pause, especially when Dean had told him that it had been Castiel who had led Dean to learn the truth that night and that he had wanted Dean to stop Sam because if Dean couldn't, they would. It had given Sam a chill. That was until he had met Uriel and had seen the true natures of the angels.
Sam had felt so desolate after Dean's death. So much so that all logical reason had left him. When Bobby had insisted on following protocol, salting and burning Dean's body, Sam couldn't allow it. His heart couldn't finalize Dean's death like that. He still had hope that he would find a way to save him some how, to bring him back, but after months had passed and he still hadn't found a way to save Dean and the longer Dean's body rotted in the grave they had buried him in, the more distraught Sam had become. He had disconnected all communications with Bobby and the world outside of his own pain, drowning himself in alcohol to deaden his own nightmares. All he could envision was exacting payback on Lillith for doing this to Dean, to him. It was when he had been at his lowest that Ruby had suddenly resurfaced in another woman's body. In thinking back, Sam had to admit that it had been really coincidental timing. He had been so messed up then, he hadn't even made the connection. She had to prove herself to him before he had finally accepted, but it didn't take much convincing. Her presence had eased the memory of Dean's death and his deep-seeded failure at not saving him. Fighting demons with her, being taught to use his powers by her allowed him to forget. More importantly, she had helped him live on without Dean. She had said all the right words, even used Dean's memory to convince him that he had to move on. At least he had been given the mercy of forgetfulness for small pockets at a time.
Dean could never erase what had happened to him in Hell. He could never forget.
As they returned to their motel room, Sam watched as Dean packed, seemingly unfettered by the memories and continued to be amazed. He couldn't ignore the rift that was between them. Much as both of them had tried to bridge it, four months apart, living separate lives, no, check that, Sam had been living a separate life, rebuilding it as best as he could hunting with Ruby. Dean, on the other hand, had been tortured unmercifully in another realm of life, if you could call that a life. Suffering pain that couldn't be quantified.
Sam felt guilty that though he was glad that Dean was out of Hell, he felt he had been "shackled" once again to his big brother, feeling forced into rejoining Dean in the hunt as if nothing had happened, that no time had passed because it had always been that way, that it was expected of him somehow, that there was no Sam, alone, just Sam and Dean. Sam resented that Dean had assumed it as well, bossing him around again as if he had never left. Just as he was finding his own place in the world, as empty as it was, even with Ruby by his side, he had been given a reunion that he didn't necessarily want.
Sam didn't like feeling it, but there it was. More unsettling was a jealousy that he didn't want to feel. Dean had been graced by God and lifted from Hell by Castiel. Sam had prayed to find a way to save his brother, but no help came. Why Dean? An unrepentant sinner by all definitions. Why not Sam? Why wasn't he just happy to have Dean back instead of feeling like he had been insulted?
Dean looked over and had seen Sam's face crinkle with a kind of confusion for a second and thought about asking him what was wrong, but stopped himself. Dean didn't want to bring up another opportunity for Sam to try to convince him that he could help him. He knew Sam couldn't, hoped his explanation would be good enough to satisfy him. Yes, there was a selfishness that he just didn't want to relive the details. Horrific didn't begin to cover it. He didn't think Sam would object to that point because even though Hell was just a concept to Sam, as it had been for Dean, more than a year ago, his only point of reference being the movie Hell Raiser, which Ruby had confirmed had been a pretty accurate depiction, Sam would never presume to force Dean to tell him everything in fine detail. But it wasn't all about sparing himself the details, it was also about Dean just not wanting to subject Sam to those images, to make him feel guilty for something that wasn't his fault. Telling him any part of his experience there would be forcing something onto Sam that Dean truly believed Sam didn't need to carry in his own head.
"You ready?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded as he hoisted one of the bags over his shoulder.
"Hey?" Dean said. "You okay with what we talked about? I mean –"
Sam looked over and his face softened.
"I'm okay, Dean."
Dean just nodded.
They had hit the road, the silence deafening between them. Dean hated that he had lost the easy rapport with his brother. Sure, they had gone through times before when anger and recrimination kept them silent, but it didn't usually last long. One of them would break the iciness and they would be back again, a team as they had always been. Since coming back, since the initial hug that Sam had given him, a distance had formed between them. Dean had remembered what he had blabbed under the influence of the yellow fever, that he knew Sam couldn't be all that happy to spend 24/7 with him and he knew the four months he'd been gone, though he knew was painful for Sam, must have been freeing as well, no one telling Sam what to do, how to hunt. Dean didn't know how to give that back to him, not now, not with the Apocalypse looming uncertainly. Dean wanted to have his brother selfishly close, his protective instinct still there, and Cas's words worrying him, that Sam might be closer to a darker future because he had given into his powers. Dean wanted to be there and stop him if things got too far.
Dean had begun to notice also that lately, no matter what he said, it seemed that Sam was taking it personally, acting defensive. He wouldn't necessarily voice it, but Dean knew his little brother well and had felt it in how Sam reacted without saying a word. There was some pent up anger and resentment there that he didn't have a clue as to how to fix. After defeating Samhain, Sam had seemed…arrogant, happy that they had saved the town, but also, confident that if it hadn't been for him, everyone would have been killed. Dean couldn't dispute that, proudly proclaimed it to Cas later, but in his gut, he felt a twist of anxiety. Sam didn't used to care about getting credit for what they did. Dean had complained about that more than Sam had, but now, it was almost like Sam was trying to prove himself, not just to Dean, but to the angels too.
"Sam?"
"Yeh?"
"Be honest with me, okay?"
"Okay," Sam said hesitantly.
"How does it feel to use your powers?"
Sam stopped to think for a second as if weighing his choice of words.
"Well, it hurts like hell for one," Sam lightly joked then became serious. "It feels good to save people instead of killing them. It doesn't always work, but when it does, I feel like I'm doing some good."
Dean listened and watched Sam as he spoke and only felt sincerity.
"Look, Dean, I want you to know that I understand that you don't want to talk about Hell," Sam said. "You're right. Nothing I could say could make that better. I can't even begin to imagine what you must have gone through and I don't blame you for not wanting to relive it. I wish I could help, but I know I can't."
Dean felt a warmth return between them and it felt good. He wanted to keep it forever.
"I meant what I said back there, Sam. No more lies. If you could help, I'd tell you, but you have to know, no one can help. It's a scar that will never heal. I just have to deal."
Sam nodded.
"I don't know how you do it, man. I mean, I know you have the nightmares and I know that the drinking helps, but how do you keep fighting, stay together. I don't think I could…when you died I…"
"To be honest, I don't know. All I know is seeing you okay helps, it helps a lot, having Bobby around helps. And if you repeat this, I'll deny it, but I'm starting to get used to the idea that maybe there's a plan for me, that there's a reason Cas pulled me out of the pit. I'm still not all choir boy about it yet, but having Cas around isn't freaking me out as much. Now, that Uriel, he's another story."
Sam laughed and it felt good. It felt like when they were kids and Dean could make him feel better with just a word or a simple act of kindness. He wanted to keep feeling that way with Dean forever…but something cold inside of him was telling him that nothing would ever be the same between them again and that scared him.
FIN. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed it!