Chapter 2
Became my own enemy - I feel the burn,
the weight of a hope that is still in tact
Bracing myself for the impact, holding on
Hindsight - lifehouse
It's barely dark when Sam gets back to the bunker, dawn rising on the horizon behind him as the impala diverts from its normal parking space, and pulls around to the side, where Sam plans on making the pyre.
It's hard work, especially by himself, but he doesn't want Dean here right now. He knows he can't avoid it for much longer, there's only so much that could delay his brother, but Dean didn't need to be a part of this.
Cas and Sam were friends, and this stabbed him deep in his gut too, but Sam wasn't blind, and he knew without any delusions or doubt, that Cas had meant something more to Dean, whether Dean knew it or not, and their mom, that hurt both of them. Losing them in the same way? For the same damned plan?
He wasn't going to think about that anymore.
The pyre was built by the time the old truck rolled up and Dean stumbled out of it. His eyes were red and puffy, and his gait was awkward, but Sam wasn't going to mention that. He didn't say anything when the first thing his brother did was walk up to him, and wrap him in a tight hug, breath shaking and grip firm.
He didn't say anything when the glance toward the impala brought a wave of fresh tears to his brother's face. He just held tighter, until Dean was the one that pulled away.
He was a little bit surprised when Dean didn't say anything about the pyre, considering the way he had propped Cas up in the car, he hadn't imagined Dean would take well to the idea of burning their best friend, but maybe he wasn't quite as broken by this as Sam had thought?
"You don't have to be here for this Dean," he finally says, pulling the car door open to get… to get the corpse.
"I don't think we should burn him," Dean says, and Sam falters.
"Why?"
"He needs that vessel, for when he comes back. Gadreel healed him once, maybe we can find another angel, or make Jack fix him, I dunno yet but he'll come back and he'll need his vessel."
"Dean," Sam starts, but backtracks what he was going to say, he wasn't going to be able to reason with Dean right now, he was too far in denial at this point, "he could get possessed in the mean time, and I think fixing the angel part would be the hard part, I don't think an angel or Jack or even God would have a problem reassembling a human, Cas was vesseless twice before wasn't he? And he came back?" Dean nods slowly. "But seriously Dean, you don't have to be here for it."
"You aren't doing this alone Sammy," Dean says, and his voice cracks and something more, if it were possible, inside of Sam breaks, but he nods. He allows it when Dean brushes his shoulder and gets Cas out of the car instead, but this time he accepts help getting him up on the actual pyre.
Dean was the one that lit the flame.
Sam wished more than anything, this wasn't what they were doing as the sun broke horizon, creating a sort of halo around their blaze.
It's surreal. Burning an angel. Though in reality, they don't really burn any different than any of the other friends they've had to give funerals for. But there's something different this time, different even than when their dad had died, but he can't place quite why.
"I know this is hard for you." Sam tries, it's a pitiful effort and he knows it, but he can't swallow the words. It's an 'I'm there for you, I understand,' and that's what he needs to convey right now.
"Yeah, well. He'll be back. He always is."
Shit. He'd thought Dean was past denial, that he'd accepted Cas was gone.
"Dean-"
"Lucifer killed him before, he came back then. He can come back."
Except this time, God isn't around, archangels aren't around, hell even heaven itself had pretty much turned their backs on the problem. Lucifer had been out of their hair and they didn't care anymore. Not that they ever cared about Cas much, someone they called their brother, but never bothered to give a damn about.
Angels were dicks.
Except for the one that died for them.
"He- he didn't get it did he," Dean said, and his voice was so quiet Sam barely heard him.
"Get what?"
"That he meant something to us. He attacked Lucifer, to buy us time," Dean looked up at him, eyes burning with the reflection of the embers before looking back at the remains of their friend, "he thought that was all his life was worth. Fuck Sammy," and Dean crumbled.
On his knees in the dirt, sobbing. Broken, dry heaving, gasping, despaired crying. Sam had never seen his brother so vulnerable. So open to the grief he was feeling, so raw. Sam collapsed next to him, wrapping up his older brother, letting him grip the jacket on his shoulders.
"He knew, Dean. He just- Cas wanted to protect you," and if possible, it made Dean sob harder. Sam knew it wouldn't make him feel better, but he couldn't think Cas didn't know they cared at all, because he did, he had to. He had to didn't he?
Eventually, Dean had calmed down, the flames had died out, and all that was left was ashes.
No trenchcoat. No Cas. Just ash.
Dean had gone to bed with a bottle of whiskey.
Sam hadn't slept.
He'd been in the library, looking for more on alternate dimensions, since they knew Dorothy and Charlie had gotten to Oz, perhaps there was something else. He dug through until evening was falling and he realized he hadn't seen his brother, or even heard him, throughout the day.
"Dean?" Sam asked, hand poised above the wood of his brother's door. He knocked a couple times, solid hard thunks, but there was no answer. He pushed open the door, only to find an immaculately made bed, and his brother nowhere to be found. "Shit."
Before he fell to total panic, he realized there was one more place he should check, and he headed down the hall, to room 15.
This time he didn't knock, and was met with the dejected hunch of his brother's shoulders as he sat on the bed the angel had probably never used, in the room he probably barely frequented. With what Dean had said last night, he wondered if the reason he was never here, was because he didn't really know the Winchesters wanted him there.
If he continued to leave on missions because he thought that was what they wanted instead.
They really had messed up, and had little to no idea.
"Dean?" For a second he doesn't say anything, just sniffs before speaking.
"Yeah?" He croaks, "fuck Sammy."
"I know Dean," Sam says, "but we have to keep moving, keep trying."
"Why?" He says, finally turning around to face Sam, eyes red rimmed, mostly empty whiskey bottle dangling from his fingers.
"Why-what do you mean why?" Sam splutters, not believing the words coming from his brother's mouth.
"I mean why. All our family is gone. We dragged Cas down, we got Charlie killed, Bobbie, Jo and Ellen, we got nothin left. So I'm going to drink, and try and fucking forget how much we've messed up."
"Then think about how much we've saved instead. Think about Jody, Claire, all the innocent people we helped, the times we've saved the world, think about that instead!" Sam pleads but Dean just lays back, the bottle clattering to the floor and spilling the remains of its amber contents.
"Let it be someone else's problem for once. That's what you used to want to do Sam."
"Because I wanted to live my life not because I was giving up! Just yesterday you were convinced Cas was coming back, I'm not sure we can't save Mom too. But we have to try."
"Cas isn't coming back. He's gone Sam. And that's on me too." He turns over then, away from his brother. Sam throws his arms up, unwilling to believe, unable to comprehend, how broken his brother is. He knew his brother blamed himself for a lot, but he didn't imagine it was this deep rooted.
"It's not your fault Dean." Sam tries. Dean pushes himself up then, stumbling across the room to shove at Sam's chest.
"Don't tell me that bullshit. Everything bad that's happened to him has been because of me! I was so blinded by everything that was always going on, civil war, the darkness, I didn't see it. But it makes sense now," Dean laughs, rubbing a hand over his mouth, but the maniacal sound kept bubbling through until he kept talking, "I get it now. Sam, I managed to break a damn Angel. How many people can say that? Now he's dead too, like everything else good in our life!"
"Dean, Cas made those choices, he chose to help us, you can't- you can't possibly think that's all your fault."
"He was fine for- for forever before he pulled my ass out of hell, then I went and fucked everything up for him!" He punctuates his sentence by shoving Sam again, "how is that not on me?!"
"You remember what we fought for Dean? Do you? Free will!" he says, shoving Dean back, not hard, but with the liquor he'd drank he stumbled enough to where his legs hit the bed, and he fell forward to his knees, and that seemed to change his demeanor from anger back to grief. "Dean he made those choices, and I doubt he regrets it." God he wishes Cas were here, he's the only thing that could possibly help right now, that could change Dean's mind.
"Sammy I need him," Dean practically whimpers, head hanging low and shoulders trembling. "I need him to know- there's so much shit I should have said to him, and-and now I can't."
It takes everything in Sam not to try and reassure Dean with empty words, with promises he can't guarantee aren't false, with hope he doesn't want to lay foundations to, he wants to say they'll get Cas back, they'll get mom back, but he can't bring himself to do it. For himself or for Dean, even if he has every intention of trying. Even if he thinks Dean will try when the grief lays off a little, be it deals or trying to bring God back to Earth, he doesn't know, or at least that's what he thought before he walked into what used to be Cas's room.
Having heard what Dean said, now he's less sure Dean will try, he's stepped into a depressed acceptance, but damn it all if Sam won't try and pull him out of it.
Lay it down, I've always been with you, hear me now
With all that's within you, be my Savior
And I'll be your downfall, oh oh
Downfall – Matchbox 20
Author's note: So this was really friggen hard to write. Way harder than I imagined, which is why it's a little on the short side. After this though we'll step a little bit away from Dean's grief, and move on to plot stuff.
