Weight of Glory
::
These words, they burned inside me
Take up your cross before your crown
::
"It's okay, Dean, I've got him."
Sam's shoes were planted into the soil as if the action would bind him to the earth beneath him. He shuddered, sucking in deep breaths through chattering teeth, bracing himself for the inevitable.
Dean stared at him with his good eye, conveying a range of expressions from hurt to disbelief and helplessness on his face, and Sam had to look away from the damage he had done to Dean's face.
I'm sorry, Dean.
Sam lifted his arms and his eyelids fluttered closed. For a moment he bore resemblance to Castiel when the angel had waded into the lake and lost himself and the bitter irony of it all came heavily crashing down onto his chest.
He had hoped that the weight of glory would ground him to this plane, but instead it was only a boulder on his chest that hastened his plummet to Hell. He guessed this would be his fall from grace.