Enough is Enough
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Dean gazed down at Kevin's lifeless body sprawled out ungainly on the floor; the eyes two empty red holes, burned to bloody nothingness by the fiery touch of a member of the race of beings that Dean now considered to be the most callous, heartless and uncaring of all those it had been his misfortune to encounter.
If only humanity knew that the angels they believed to be kind, benevolent creatures with fluffy white wings and sparkling halos sent by a fatherly God to watch over them, were in reality the complete opposite; cold dicks with a superiority complex.
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Dean had yet to meet one that was intrinsically good; no, perhaps the one exception had been Samandriel. Dean had felt a wholesome pureness emanating from the unfortunate angel, rescued from terrible tortures just to have Castiel assassinate him when he thought he was in safe hands. Maybe Castiel had been under Naomi's influence but that didn't make it any better. Dead is dead, and to think that he, in his desperation over his little brother's death, had consigned Sam into the hands of one of these soulless killing machines.
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He rose to his feet. There was nothing he could do for the boy now. He hoped he was at peace in the company of his mother.
Kevin was just the last in a long line of people who had died merely by brushing shoulders with the Winchesters. He and his brother brought pain to everyone that came too close to them, even to those they thought they had saved. Crowley had demonstrated all too clearly how any good he and Sam might have done; any people they might have saved, could all be used as bargaining chips to get back at them; to deal out revenge; for blackmail.
He and Sam. He understood so clearly now that their lives, all their suffering had been for nothing.
Maybe it would have been best it they had died in the fire at Lawrence along with their mother; at least they wouldn't have had anyone's death on their conscience.
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Dean fell back boneless and drained onto the nearest chair, letting his eyes rake the room. He had been so happy when they had found this place, the Men of Letters bunker. He had naively believed that he and Sam could start a new life within its secure walls.
He couldn't stop the smile that came to his lips as he remembered his little brother trying not to geek out too blatantly at the sight of the treasure trove of books and supernatural paraphernalia that had been delivered into his hands like a surprise Christmas present; or of how he himself had been delighted to have a room of his own to fill with the little he possessed.
There was a real kitchen to dabble in and present Sammy with home-made dinners; finding pleasure in being able to look after him as he'd always tried to do; taking joy and satisfaction from the appreciative smiles that Sam rewarded him with when he dug into his tasty creations.
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"Yeah, you poor stupid son of a bitch, Winchester," he scoffed to himself, passing a hand over his face. "You think you're god; that you can fix everything; that you can keep Sam safe, but you can't, and now thanks to you, there's some punk angel driving him. Wasn't it enough that he's been possessed by Meg, by Lucifer, soulless for a whole frigging' year and now this. But it's gonna end right here! Sammy's been through enough! I've been through enough!
Sam was ready to die to close the gates of hell and I stopped him, just to make him a slave to an angel who uses his body to kill.
Those douche-bags Michael and Lucifer wanted me to kill my baby brother. That was the plan; my Cain to Sam's Abel, well you know what? You winged freaks are gonna get just that.
I'm going to find Sam and when I do; me and him, we're gonna go out together; side by side and wherever we end up doesn't matter; no-one will be able to touch us again, and in the off-chance we finish up in Heaven, there's gonna be hell to pay.
If the angels get back up to Heaven, I'm gonna hunt them down one by one. They'll rue the day they ever came in contact with Sam and Dean Winchester!"
He stood up, and without a backward glance, walked up the steps and out into the fresh Kansas air. Here it had all begun. Here the Winchester brothers had been born and here they would die.
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