Author's Note: This was written for the following prompt over at OhSam: "S09 AU: Every time Dean gets it in his head to tell Sam the truth or, heaven forbid, force Gadreel out of his brother himself, Gadreel conveniently zigs when he should have zagged, takes a nap, or just plain can't be bothered to to keep Sam's lungs expanding. Like his own personal "Mystery Spot," watching Sam suffer over and over again keeps Dean in line...until it doesn't. The boys work to rid Sam's body of its angelic life support, regardless of what the outcome means for Sam's health."

So, season 9 AU, set post 9x04. Charlie never goes to Oz and let's pretend that Kevin and Charlie have met during 9x04. I always felt like Dean should've come clean to Sam about what was going on with Gadreel way earlier than he did. Hence, this story. Fun fact, this story marks my 150th on this site! Time really flies. Thanks for all the support! Enjoy this story!

"If you should ever leave me

Well, life would still go on believe me

The world could show nothing to me

So what good would living do me?"

—Mandy Moore, "God Only Knows"

Dean can't keep doing this.

He can't keep looking his baby brother in the eye and continue lying to him. Lying about what happened after the angels fell, lying about the choices he made to save his brother, lying about how Sam isn't in total control of his body. Dean's lied to his brother before—many times before, some of them for the same misguided reason of keeping Sam safe—but he knows it never ends well. Now that Sam is alive and no longer in danger of dying, Dean has to come clean. The longer he keeps his mouth shut, the harder it will be for the truth to come out.

And the truth has to come out, one way or another.

Sam deserves to know the truth; Dean has to tell him.

"You are sure about this?" Ezekiel questions softly, brows furrowed in concern. "Should Sam reject me, I cannot guarantee his life." The way the angel so casually tosses that fact out makes Dean's shoulders tense. His big brother senses go off—the fear of losing Sam trying to trump his logic once more—but he forces himself to breath slowly and steadily.

"You said he was okay—" He jabs a finger in the angel's direction, accusatory.

"I said no such thing." Ezekiel interjects sharply, gaze narrowing. "I simply remarked that Sam's body was starting to help me with my efforts. That is by no means me saying that his body will survive without me."

The eldest Winchester weighs that fact, but comes to the same conclusion.

"I can't keep lying to him." Dean murmurs, because it's the truth and if the roles were reversed, he'd want to know whether an angel was possessing him. And after everything with Lucifer . . . no, he can't allow this to go on for a second longer than it has to. "It's Sam's body. He deserves to know. If he wants you gone . . . " The idea of Sam's lifeless eyes staring upwards fills his mind. He shudders but forces himself to keep talking. "Sam will have to make his choice. Hopefully, his body will be strong enough. If not . . ." He can't even finish the thought.

Ezekiel opens his mouth to say something else, but shuts it once more. Shrugging, he sighs softly.

"Very well," He replies coldly. "As you wish." He bows his head, eyes shutting. Then, Sam's head comes back up, eyes blinking back to their normal hazel color.

"Hey." His little brother greets with a grin. "I was just coming to talk to you. Kevin found something really—"

"Sammy." He interrupts, voice rough. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to figure out a way to ease into this conversation. How did you tell your sibling that you tricked him into being possessed? Hallmark didn't make an apology card for that. Sam will be furious—he might not speak to Dean ever again—but this is something that his little brother needs to know.

Regardless of what that means for their relationship, Sam has to find out and Dean has to be the one to tell him.

"Dean?" Sam's voice is tinged with concern and he takes a few steps towards his older brother. "Is everything okay?" He places a reassuring hand on his older brother's shoulder, those puppy dog eyes out in full force.

"I'm fine." He waves off his little brother's concern. "But I need to tell you something." He grimaces, biting his lower lip nervously. "It's about what happened after the angels fell."

"Yeah, sure." Sam yawns, big and loud, his eyes slightly watering. He sits down on top of the wooden table, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He blinks a few more times and manages to yawn instead. "Sorry. I just haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately."

They've been pulling some all-nighters with Kevin, researching various topics in the hopes of helping Castiel as well as trying to find more information on how to stop Metatron. So far, nothing they'd found had been particularly useful, but they kept trying. There had to be some sort of clue in these archives, something that they could use to save the day once more.

But, no, he has to focus on the task at hand. Telling Sam the truth—

His little brother's eyes drift closed for a few moments, before he jerks back awake. He's losing his battle with exhaustion, that much is obvious.

"It can wait a few hours." Dean finally decides, voice barely above a whisper. "Go get some sleep."

"What?" Sam echoes. "Dean, are you—?" He rises from the table, ready to protest further.

"It's all good." The eldest Winchester dismisses with a fake grin in place. Then, placing an arm around his sibling's back, he begins to guide Sam towards his bedroom. "Get some sleep, Sammy."

"Okay." Sam finally relents and it's a testament to how exhausted he is that he doesn't put up more of a fight. He tacks on, "If you're sure."

"I am." The older brother murmurs, opening Sam's door.

Sam's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

With a soft smile on his lips, Dean closes the door. Damn it all, this is going to be harder than he thought. If he tells Sam the truth, there's no question that his little brother will be furious. Furious, actually, will be an understated. Enraged, most likely. Pissed off, definitely. Sam will scream and shout and curse Dean out; he'll threaten to leave and ask why Dean would do such a thing.

And what else can Dean say for his defense? Sam's life had been in danger. Sam had been dying and the doctors were giving up hope. Dean had been desperate.

People always assume that as the oldest, he's the strongest out of the two. They're wrong. If Dean comes across as strong, it's only because Sam is there beside him, supporting him, picking him up when he falls. Sam is his heart, his soul, and his guiding force. Without Sam, there is no Dean.

And maybe that's twisted, maybe that's not healthy, but that's the way it is. Dean exists for Sam, because of Sam, all for Sam. He was raised as a hunter, yes, but the moment his mother put Sam in his arms, he became a big brother first. He meant every word he said to Sam in the church, there is nothing he would put in front of his baby brother.

Sam dying . . . that was simply unacceptable.

Dean made his choice and now he will face the consequences.

"Oh." Kevin mutters, nearly crashing into the older brother. "Sam asleep?" The prophet's eyes are nearly bloodshot and the eldest Winchester curses under his breath. Kevin's still a kid, for God's sake. He may be a prophet, may have seen way more than anyone his age should see in life, but he's still a kid.

"Bed for you too." Dean orders and Kevin blinks a few times, seemingly shocked.

"Huh?" He asks.

"Research can wait a few hours." Dean replies, moving Kevin towards his room.

"But I think I found—"

"Bed." Dean repeats, more forcefully this time.

"Uh . . ." Kevin hesitates for a few moments outside his door, before nodding his assent. "Okay, then." He opens the door. "Night."

"Get some rest, Kevin." Dean tells him quietly and Kevin nods his head before closing the door behind him.

"Awesome." The older brother sighs, wondering what he will do now. He'd been ready to tell Sam the truth, to deal with the inevitable fallout, but now he's stuck. There is really nothing he can do right now but wait.

Still, he resolves to help out on this research and moves towards the study. A few hours of decoding ancient texts will keep his mind off his problems.

It's a temporary fix, but it will have to do for now.

Oddly, the next morning, Sam is nowhere to be found.

Kevin is in the kitchen, eating a bowl of cereal while his eyes scan the latest Avengers comic—a gift from Charlie when she came to visit and found that the teen was staying with them—and he barely acknowledges the eldest Winchester.

"Where's Sam?" Dean finally asks, because something feels off. Sam never takes off without at least leaving a note, especially when he knows how worried Dean gets. What with him still healing after the Trials, Sam should know better than to just leave without so much as a word.

"Store." Kevin replies blandly, flipping the page in his comic. "Said you needed him to pick up some groceries?"

"Huh?" Dean mentioned that he needed to go get some groceries in passing, but he never meant for Sam to go in his stead. Grocery shopping is a chore, yeah, but Dean enjoys doing it. Something as mundane as grocery shopping helps ground him in this chaotic world. "How long ago did he leave?"

"You just missed him." The teen answers, eyes glancing up briefly from the comic. Then, as if sensing the distress rolling off the older man, he closes the comic. Brows furrowing, the prophet tacks on, "He seemed fine, Dean. If I thought he was sick or something, I would've stopped him."

It's an olive branch of sorts.

"Don't worry about it, Kevin." The older brother dismisses. "Just . . . let me know when he gets back."

"Yeah, sure."

Kevin looks at him expectantly, like he's waiting for Dean to explain his odd behavior. But that's a conversation for another time and without another word, the eldest Winchester turns around and heads for the study. An hour of reading would keep his mind off worrying and it might even give him something useful.

Yeah, that's all he needs—busywork.

Sam returns three hours later, arms loaded with groceries and Charlie in tow.

"Look who I found!" Sam calls as both his brother and Kevin enter the entryway. Footsteps echo in the hall and soon, a glimpse of red hair flashes by as she descends the staircase.

"Sup bitches!" Charlie exclaims, a dazzling smile alighting on her lips.

"Charlie!" Kevin shouts, a rare smile twisting his lips upwards.

"Hey there!" She hugs him tightly. Breaking apart, she looks up to meet his gaze. "Oh my god, are you even taller than me?"

The teen ducks his head sheepishly, chuckling softly.

Punching him playful in the shoulder, she adds, "Not you too! It's bad enough that I feel like a dwarf with Sam and Dean, but now you Kevin?"

"Sorry, Charlie." Kevin tells her and the redhead just beams. "What are you doing in town?"

"I just came to visit my mom's grave." She replies softly, voice tinged with grief. Though time has passed since her mother's passing, the pain is still clearly something the self-proclaimed geek deals with on a daily basis. "I ran into Sam at the store and decided why not come and see all of you."

"That's great!" The teenager hollers, bursting at the seams with enthusiasm. "Hey, what'd you bring with you?"

Charlie chuckles and reaches for her bag.

"Is that all I'm good at? Bringing you presents?" She teases, messing his hair with her hand.

"Sorry, sorry," He murmurs. Then, smirking, he adds, "Did you bring me something?"

"Here, you vulture." She opens her bag and pulls out a few DVDs. "Advanced copies of the latest movies." She winks. "You're welcome."

"Thank you!" Kevin shouts, already sprinting to his room to begin to binge watch the new films.

"Honestly," The redhead sighs fondly. "He's such a little kid."

"He deserves to be." Dean adds quietly. "If only for a moment."

"Yeah." Sam mumbles, a hint of sadness resonating in his tone.

"So!" Charlie jumps up impulsively, shattering the dark atmosphere of regret that had been building. "Shall we have some fun?" She grins brightly, coming to stand in the middle of the two brothers.

And though Dean is grateful to have her here, he can't help but feel that all his chances of telling Sam the truth are slipping through his fingers.

"Yeah," He forces a smile on his face. "Of course."

The next morning, he pulls Charlie aside and asks her to take Kevin for the day.

"What?" She echoes, perplexed. "I mean, I like Kevin, but I thought he had to stay here for his own safety—"

"I've already put sigils on your car," He gestures to her yellow bug on the street. "And Kevin is under orders to stay with you."

"Dean." Charlie folds her arms across her chest and leans in, their noses almost touching. "What is going on?"

"I don't know what you—" He begins to shake his head dismissively.

"Cut the crap, would you?" She chides sharply. "When I ran into Sam at the store, he was acting weird too. Did you two get into a fight or something?"

He's about to deny it when he realizes something.

"Wait, Sam was acting weird?" Dean nearly growls, tone biting. "How weird?"

"What is going on here, Dean?" The Queen of Moondoor questions, raising her voice a bit. Then, as if putting the final piece in the puzzle together, she steps closer to him. "Does this have anything to do with what happened to me the last time I was here?"

Right. Last time she had been here, Charlie had died only to come back to life courtesy to the angel residing in Sam's body. Instead of making up an excuse, or hey, telling the truth, he'd asked her to just drop it for the moment. Well, that moment is up. Dean can't explain it all to her right now—he wouldn't even know how to start if he even tried.

"Dean?" She presses, eyes widening ever so slightly with concern. She places a warm hand on his shoulder and tries to get him to open up to her. "What is it? You can tell me."

He sucks in a shaky breath and runs a hand through his hair.

"Dean?"

"Just . . ." He forces himself to focus back on her, forces himself to stay steady on his feet. He cannot freak out about this, not now, and definitely not when he doesn't even know what she has to say. He, of all people, knows that Sam can act weird in a variety of ways—all of which are just part of his brother's personality.

"Just tell me how he was acting." He manages to get out. "Please."

"Yeah, okay." It becomes obvious by how accommodating the redhead has gotten that she seems to sense that there's more riding on her answer than anything she could figure out by herself. "It was just weird. Sam didn't really say much. He kind of just stood there and he . . ." She twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. "He basically ordered me to come with him."

"Ordered?" The older brother balks. Sam doesn't order people around—there's not a bossy bone in his little brother's body. Sure, Sam speaks his mind and he will tell you what he thinks even if you don't want to hear it, but he never tells people what to do. He'll disagree with your decision and try to make you change your mind, but he would never order you around.

Especially not with someone like Charlie, whom they view more of as a sister than just a peculiar young woman.

"He was very cold and distant." She adds on, biting her lower lip, almost nervously. "I just thought you two were fighting but now . . ." Her eyes brim with tears. She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, but it seems to do no good as more tears fill their place. "What's going on, Dean? Is Sam okay?" She gasps as the possibilities swim through her mind. "Is it something to do with the Trials—?"

"Hey, hey." He pulls her roughly into a hug, tucking her face onto the crook of his shoulder. "It's okay, Charlie. I'm going to fix things right now." He rubs comforting circles on her back, the kind Bobby used to do for him as a child, a near lifetime ago it feels like. He may not know what to say to Sam, but in this moment, he can comfort Charlie.

"I'll take Kevin." She finally says as she calms down. "Just . . . let me know if I can be of any help."

"I will." He assures her.

She nods shakily, plastering a smile on her lips. She turns to her car where Kevin is blasting music like any other teenager. She's just about to get in when he calls out once more,

"And Charlie?"

"Yeah?" She holds the driver's door open, a blast of music blaring. Kevin's rocking out, acting his own age for once.

"I still owe you an explanation. Give me some more time."

Her response is just to grin and give a thumbs up.

As he watches them drive away, he can't help but feel immensely grateful to the young woman. The first time he met her, he just assumed she was useless and downright annoying, but now . . .

She'd proved him wrong.

"Okay." He turns to face the bunker door. "Let's do this."

It's time to put an end to this.

"Hey." Sam glances up from one of the ancient Greek scrolls he found in the archives. He lifts the scroll up a bit, gesturing for his older brother to come look. "I found something about angels. It's obscure and granted, my Greek is a bit rusty, but it might still be—" He's rambling, excited by his discovery, by the possibility that it holds not only for Castiel, but for everyone else.

"Sammy, I just need you to listen to me." His own voice sounds broken already and he hangs his head in shame. Every fiber in his being is screaming for him not to do this. What about Sam, after all? Sam's life is on the line and—

"What is it?" The youngest Winchester puts the scroll aside and directs all his attention on his older brother's hunched figure.

"I did something." He confesses and immediately, Sam jerks back, like he's been slapped. Nothing good has ever come of that statement—they both know that.

"Okay." Sam lets out a shaky breath. "Tell me."

Dean forces himself to look his brother straight in the eye and wills the truth to come tumbling from his lips.

"Sam, after the angels fell, you were dying. I took you to a hospital and—"

The little brother coughs and then tries to clear his throat. A tendril of fear clamps down on Dean's heart.

"M'not . . ." Sam gasps and it becomes evident by the way he's gesturing to his chest that the kid can't breathe. "Oxygen?"

"Easy." Dean checks him over, careful eyes scanning for some sign of distress that he can fix, but there's nothing obvious. Sam's not choking. There's nothing wrapped around his neck to remove. And his chest—

It isn't rising.

He checks again, making sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him. But as the painful seconds drift by, Sam's chest still doesn't rise.

It's almost as if his lungs are locked.

"D'n." Sam wheezes, lips turning blue, eyes wide with panic because suffocating is definitely an awful way to go and Dean can't do anything to fix this! He doesn't even know what brought this on—

"Zeke!" Dean roars, putting the pieces together and wishing it formed a different picture. "Stop this!"

An unasked question alights in Sam's eyes, but there is no trace of the angel in that gaze.

"Hold on, Sammy." He tries to keep the terror out of his own tone, but he can tell that he's failing miserably. "Zeke! Dammit, fix him!"

Sam lists, eyes falling shut. His pulse stutters under Dean's fingertips until it fades away.

Sam's dead.

And suddenly, Dean's back in Cold Oak, back in Stull Cemetery, watching his baby brother being taken from him and being powerless to stop it. He's not doing this again—this cannot be happening. His head shakes; his fingers tremble, jostling Sam's lifeless body. No, no, this isn't real. This cannot be real. Sam will wake up any second. He'll open those wide hazel eyes and smile that stupid relieved grin and the pressure constricting Dean's lungs will loosen.

But Sam doesn't wake up.

Dean refuses to accept that he's lost Sam once more.

"Zeke!" His voice breaks as a single tear rolls down his cheek. He clutches at Sam's body, willing his lungs to work and if not, then for Dean's to stop. For there is no life for him without Sam and if this is where Sam's story ends, then it's time for Dean's to stop as well.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Sam's chest expands and Ezekiel rises from the floor, cool and collected.

"Dean." The angel greets, voice devoid of any hint of emotion. He nods his head slightly in greeting.

"What the hell was that?" Dean growls, jumping to his feet. He wants to smack the angel clear across the face, but he resists only because it might hurt Sam. Still, his anger bubbles close to the surface and burns through him. Sam almost died—no, Sam was dead for a moment—and that alone is enough to get this angel on Dean's kill list.

"I fail to comprehend—" The angel begins to lie.

"No, no, don't pull that bullshit on me." Dean hisses, hands curling into fists of their own accord. "First, you bully Charlie and now you kill Sam and bring him back?" He steps closer to the angel, menacing. "What kind of game are you playing?"

"I am not playing at anything." The angel retorts sharply. His eyes flash with a heavenly grace and the lights in the bunker seem to dim as the grace fills every corner of the room. "The girl seemed distressed. I simply offered for her to be with her friends. And as for Sam . . ." He smirks ever so slightly. "I simply wanted to prepare you for what will happen when you tell Sam the truth." He tilts his head to the side, ever so slightly and chuckles. "Surely you see that Sam will expel me. When he does, Sam shall die." A somber expression covers his visage. "Are you prepared for that?"

"No, this isn't about me." Dean shakes his head. "You don't want to go, do you?" Because that's the only reason that could explain the angel's reckless actions. Ezekiel has been so careful with Sam before because without Sam, he's a powerless angel. Without Sam, he's nothing. And the prospect of losing Sam . . . it must seem dire to the angel.

"Ideally, I would stay." He murmurs, eyes never leaving Dean's. It's a challenge, anyone can see that. Neither of them is backing down and it's Sam that's caught in the middle.

"I'm telling Sam." Dean states, as clearly as he can possibly say it. Enough is enough. His little brother deserves the truth and deserves to make his own decision. "And if you pull another stunt like that—"

"What will you do?" The angel asks, genuinely curious. "I am within Sam, Dean. Without me, his lungs will cease to work and his heart will stop."

"Are you threatening me?" The eldest Winchester whispers, unable to comprehend what is happening in this moment. He knows now that he's made a huge mistake. Yeah, it saved Sam in the short term, but now? Now, Sam is nothing more than an angelic plaything, something that Ezekiel can use for leverage. In some ways, this is even worse than when Lucifer was in charge. Sam broke free of that hold through his sheer force of will, but with his little brother in the dark, Dean can't count on his help.

"If you attempt to remove me before I am ready to leave," The angel begins, circling the older brother. "I will kill your brother."

It's like a sucker punch to the gut.

"But why?" Dean gasps, finally regaining his voice. "If you need Sam just as much as he needs you—"

"I do not need Sam." The angel spits, almost as if the idea of leaning on a human is disgusting. "I simply do not wish to expend energy searching for another vessel."

"I won't let you do this—!"

The room burns with heavenly light and Ezekiel's broken wings are projected onto the wall. He seems almost like a giant and Dean knows he won't win this fight, but dammit it all, he can't give up! He has to save Sam from this and free him, at any cost.

"I will kill you should you get in my way," The angel growls. "Make no mistake about that, Dean Winchester." Then, softer, he lets the power go, until it's almost Sam that stands before him, save for the glowing eyes. "And if I have to, I will kill Sam too."

"Ezekiel—" He reaches his hand out, ready to knock some sense into the angel if that's what it takes, but the fight instantly drains out of him. He's right. He's in Sam and if he hurt the angel, he'd be hurting Sam too.

He's between a rock and a hard place.

The angel's glowing eyes fade and return to a normal hazel color.

"Dean?" Sam blinks a few times, rubs his chest absently, as if trying to recall the reason why he has phantom pain. "What's going on?"

"You okay?" The older brother's eyes sweep over his sibling, just making sure there's nothing out of place.

"I'm fine." Sam states, a bit perplexed. "Did something happen? I thought we were talking about something."

Here's his chance to come clean, like he should've done on day one. He can tell Sam the truth right now, use some sort of code so Ezekiel won't know until it's too late, but . . .

The haunting image of Sam's lifeless eyes staring up to him fills his mind and he shudders.

"Dean?" Sam tries once more, clearly concerned. "What is it?"

It's the moment of truth.

"Nothing, Sammy." He lies, forcing an easy grin on his lips. "Nothing at all."

And the truth stays buried once more.

Author's Note: This whole piece is written out and the next part will be published shortly! Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!