AN: Okay, I started this after Sympathy for the Devil aired the first time (and got to about halfway through the Dean/Cas conversation), but finished it after they aired the repeat. So it's totally AU. And totally crap, lol. I haven't had time to fine tune it like I normally would. One shot, a tag, I guess, though very AU. Be gentle?

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One Time Too Many.

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Dean looked down at the keys in his hand, because it was so much easier to see them than the raw pain in his brother's eyes. In all their lives together, trust had been the foundation of their relationship. It was never taken lightly. Sam knew what it would have taken for him to utter those life ending words, how deep that betrayal ran.

But not even guilt was enough to make him take back that burst of honesty. He wanted to. He wished he had never been raised from Hell. After the last year, the pit had seemed so much easier. At least there, everything had made sense. Good was good and evil was evil.

But the last year had cracked his solid connection to the world he had grown up trying to save. Sam had turned from him, had abandoned him as easily as their father had. Ironically enough, for the same reason. Revenge.

Everything in their life came down to revenge, and he was sick of it. He was sick of making excuses for the people he loved, tired of having to justify why they continued to leave him. He was tired of fighting battles too big for him.

Christ, he was just tired, end of story.

He opened the driver's side of the car, letting Sam know with a glance that he needed to be alone, just for tonight. His family may get their kicks from dropping him whenever it suited them, but he was better than that, better than them. He wouldn't shirk his responsibility to his brother, but he did need time.

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Sam acknowledged his brother's request with a nod. He would find his own way to the motel tonight, knowing Dean wouldn't be going back.

He watched the car drive away from him, and let his tears fall. He knew it wasn't permanent. Knew that Dean wouldn't leave him, no matter what. But that promise made from love was now being kept by duty.

Briefly, he considered running. For the first time in his life, Sam was certain Dean wouldn't follow. It left a hollow feeling in his soul. Clarity came with pain, unfortunately. It was nearly impossible to avoid.

He knew if he ran Dean would let him go. But that would be the end of it. He'd never see his brother again. He was standing at a crossroads right now. Running was the easier path, but it wasn't the right one. He owed Dean so much more than that.

Forgiveness was a funny thing. It took time, it took effort, and it took courage. But Dean was right. They'd never get back what they had. At best, it would be a mere shadow of what they had once shared. Could he live with that?

Could he live without it? Four months without Dean had seen him go darkside, ending the world. Wouldn't a glimmer, a trace, be better than that? Trust could be earned back. Whatever else lay between them, there was still blood.

It was a start.

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Dean didn't even look up when the flutter of wings penetrated his private fortress of rubble. "Cas, I'm begging you, give me tonight, please."

"You misunderstand me, Dean. I am here to offer what solace I can," Castiel answered gently.

Dean shook his head. "There's nothing- I just- I-" He stopped and tried to gather his scattered thoughts, trying to shy away from what was spinning in his mind.

Castiel looked up through a hole in the roof of the ruined warehouse. "Prayer can often be comforting."

Dean looked at the angel, his green eyes shimmering with tears he refused to let fall in front of the angel. "If I say yes to Michael, will it end?"

"Nothing can undo what has been done to you. Those destined for greatness often wish for death before it is over," Castiel replied calmly.

"I wish you had left me there."

"I know. Betimes, as do I. But the course of Fate is not for us to judge. You were chosen for a reason, Dean. Whatever you may think of yourself, these tests lead to purpose."

Dean closed his eyes. "It's not enough. I'm sorry, but it's not. I'll fight, because I don't know how not to, but I'm tired, Cas. I'm tired of losing everything and everyone to a cause I barely believe in any more."

Castiel studied the man in standing dejectedly in front of him, the shoulders that were shaking with barely restrained grief, the bow of that once proud chin, tucked into his chest in defeat. He wished he knew what to say, to make it all better, but there was nothing. Nothing could take away the years of raw pain and rage that this individual had suffered through. But perhaps, the could offer a sliver of what was most drastically missing- hope.

"Have you ever noticed, Dean, that the hero in the story always gets his man? That good always wins over evil? What they rarely tell you about are the scars he bears, the sacrifices he's made. They rarely tell you that they had to break him in order to mold him into what was needed," Cas pondered idly.

"Yeah, well, the hero always gets the girl, too," Dean quipped. "Not gonna happen."

"What they often tell you is how unlikely the chosen hero was," Cas continued. "Your story is a little different. You were destined for greatness from the moment you were born, in one way or another. Your family line decreed nothing less. But whatever blood runs through your veins, you made a conscious choice to be a part of this."

"Dad-"

"Your father guided you onto a path. You could have defied him, and you didn't. He taught you to shoot, and you could have learned to miss. He forced raising Sam onto you, but you could have let him starve. All choices you made along the way."

Dean cocked his head at the angel. "Are you telling me I can make the choice to get out of it, too?"

"You can. As you are so fond of telling us, there is always another way."

Dean frowned. "So if I walk away right now, that'll be the end of it for me?"

Cas studied him before shaking his head. "Truthfully, it would never be the end. Not for you. If not this battle, then another. We can never truly walk away from the consequences of the choices we've made in the past. All you would be offering yourself is a chance, a grace period. But know this, we laid siege to Hell to get you back. All indications are there that yours is an important part to play," Cas warned.

Dean snorted. "Being the Michael Sword?"

"Destiny and Fate are sisters who are at once one in the same."

"Okay, that wasn't cryptic," Dean snarled, not in the mood for the angel's game. "Is there like a class you guys take?"

"Zacharia showed you once that even if you were a civilian, Hunting is in your blood. It's a deep part of who you are. If you could choose to walk away from it, would you truly be able to? Could you really let millions die for a year's peace? Is your anger at your brother worth all those lives?"

Dean closed his eyes, having to finally face the truth of the storm raging inside of him. "It's not Sam I'm angry with. It's myself. I failed, Cas, again."

"Sam made his own choices," Cas replied gently, hating to see his friend sound so utterly miserable.

Dean shook his head. "Like you said, I practically raised Sam. Who he is a large part my responsibility. I went to Hell to save him, and now, now I can't forgive him. It's not his fault, it's mine, but I can't forgive him. It's like he's asked for it one too many times. He keeps screwing up, and I keep racing in to save the day, and his hide- but I can't. Not this time. This is so much bigger than missing the shot, or rushing off without thinking."

Tortured green eyes met the angel's, silently begging for forgiveness for his lack of ability to forgive his brother, to take responsibility for something that had been his fault since the day that baby was placed in his arms. "What kind of brother does that make me?"

Cas cast his eyes around his surroundings once more, suddenly seeing more than mere rubble. He had thought his charge had come here for comfort in the familiar, but was now acutely understanding that this was one more form of punishment the eldest Winchester was laying on himself.

"Uriel chose to follow his own sense of right, he chose to kill the others for not being able to see his side of the logic. In turn, I was forced to kill him because my own sense of right was different. Despite the actions and decisions that put us on opposite sides, I grieved for him as a brother, and remember him as my brother."

Dean smiled. "So what you're saying is that family is still family, no matter how badly they screw up."

Cas returned the smile with a slight twitching of his lips. "Essentially. Your decisions and choices are your own, Dean. No amount of destiny will change that."

Dean glanced at his watch. "So it took you over an hour of cryptic crap to tell me what I already knew?"

"Failure can only happen if you let it. By trying, you have not failed. By not succeeding, you have made a discovery on how to avoid the mistake again. Failure is a finality only you have the power to allow."

Dean opened his mouth to offer a retort, but Cas was gone. And damn it if the little know it all wasn't right.

Failure was only possible if you lacked the courage to try again.