Disclaimer: Not mine.

Author's Note: Many thanks to Cheryl for the beta, and to reticento, Texas-Devil-Or-Angel, Stoney Angel, Riathe Mai, Katy M VT, Sarah, Jeanny, emebalia, Fae-and-night, Imrourke, sylvia37, SPN Mum, sammynanci, murphy9202, godsdaughter77, judyann, SupernaturallyEgocentric, BranchSuper, Visionairy, L.A.H.H, twinklingeyes07, CeCe Away, SandyDee84 and twomoms for the reviews.

Part I: Fear

My tender, first, and simple years
Thou didst abuse and then betray;
Since stir'd'st up jealousies and fears
When all the causes were away.

(Ben Jonson)

Room 6 was surprisingly, almost manically, cheerful. The wallpaper was a bright pattern of balloons and candy, the beds were neatly made with clean yellow sheets that smelled of soap and fabric softener, and a bunch of buttercups was jammed into a vase on the windowsill.

Sam spent a couple of minutes searching for trapdoors and two-way mirrors before he decided it wasn't worth the effort. Whatever was happening or about to happen, whatever plan Death had, he couldn't do much other than wait it out.

He was flicking through the channels on the flatscreen TV – all of which seemed to be showing peppy chick flicks or children's cartoons – when there was a sharp rap on the door.

He got to his feet and opened it.

Castiel was standing outside.

Sam stared at him. "Cas? What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk." The Angel came in without waiting for an invitation. "You can't keep doing this, Sam."

"What can't I keep doing?" Sam asked in confusion.

"Changing things." Cas dropped into one of the overstuffed armchairs by the fireplace. "Sam, I'm sorry to have to say this, but you… You complicate things." He made a vague gesture. "Dean can't think rationally with you around. He does things he knows are stupid. He wants to bring you back. He's trying to bring you back right now."

"Death said –"

"Death wants you to go back, Sam. He's manipulating you. You can't possibly believe that's the best idea. Do you remember what happened last time? Dean sold his soul to bring you back. He went to Hell, and you started the Apocalypse. How can he trust you after that?"

Sam felt something twist in his gut. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"You always think you're doing the right thing. I'm not saying you don't have good intentions. But your judgement is flawed. You're arrogant. You're weak, and you're Dean's weakness."

The thing in Sam's gut twisted harder, making him feel physically sick.

"Come with me," Cas said abruptly, getting up. "I have something to show you."

He seized Sam's wrist and pulled him out of the motel room into the corridor –

But it wasn't the corridor anymore. It was a street in a suburban neighbourhood. Snow fell softly from the sky, carpeting the ground.

"Come." Cas pulled Sam up a driveway into a familiar house.

"This is –"

"Lisa Braeden's house."

Cas opened the door, and warmth and noise poured out. Sam could hear voices and laughter and the clink of glasses.

He followed the Angel inside.

The family was in the living room. There was Lisa curled on the sofa, talking to a woman who looked enough like her to be her sister. Ben was on the rug with another kid, probably around six. There was a crib in the corner.

Dean was sitting across the fire from Lisa, making small talk with another man around his own age. Sam caught enough of their conversation to know they were discussing football. Apparently whichever team Dean supported during his Lisa phase had lost every game of the season.

It seemed surprisingly… comfortable.

"Is this what Dean could have?" Sam whispered.

"This is what Dean had," Cas said simply. "He had it, and he gave it up for you. Look at him, Sam. This was the year your soul was in Lucifer's Cage. Dean moved on. He was happy."

Sam had to admit that Dean did look happy. He was laughing with the man, whoever he was, and if his eyes occasionally misted over when he thought nobody was looking… Well, that didn't outweigh the fact that he was having a normal Christmas with a normal family.

"Dean can still have a normal life," Sam argued.

"Not with you around. You attract trouble, Sam. I know you mean well, and maybe it's not your fault, but you do. And Dean feels obligated to clean up after you." Cas laid a hand on his arm and his voice was sympathetic when he spoke again. "I've made mistakes too. I know what it's like. You think you're doing the right thing, but you're not, and other people have to clean up your mess because you're not strong enough to do it yourself."

"I did what I could," Sam protested.

"To save the world, yes. But what about Dean? You came back from the Cage and he got pulled back into the hunting life. He would have been happier if you'd stayed gone."

Sam stared at Cas speechlessly for a moment.

"You have to go on, Sam," Cas insisted, when Sam didn't say anything. "It's best for everyone. It's best for Dean. He needs space. You have to go."

"Sammy?"

Sam turned at the sound of the quiet voice, and he saw Dean had left his seat by the fireplace and was standing next to him.

"Dean."

"Sammy." And then strong arms were around him, practically crushing the breath out of him. "You're here. You're here. You're… Sammy."

Sam hesitated only a moment before hugging Dean back. Dean's grip tightened in response.

But something was wrong. Lisa and her sister and the man and the kids were all going on with their activities, the man talking to the empty space where Dean had been. None of them seemed to have realized that Dean had moved or that Sam was there.

Dean seemed to have noticed the same thing, because, with a tiny, apologetic smile in Sam's direction, he turned to Lisa, still with one arm around his little brother. "Lisa, you remember Sammy?" Lisa showed no sign of having heard him. "Lisa?"

Sam's throat burned. "Dean –"

Dean gave him a light squeeze and then released him, taking a step towards Lisa. "Lisa?"

Lisa looked up and smiled. "Dean. What is it? More eggnog?"

"You remember Sammy, right?"

Lisa's face softened. "Of course I do. Wherever he is, I'm sure he wants you to be happy, Dean."

"What? No, Sammy's right here. Look."

Lisa bit her lip. "Dean, I think you've had enough to drink. Maybe you should take a nap?"

"No, look. Sam's here."

Dean grabbed Sam, and as soon as he did Lisa turned back to her sister, continuing the conversation about little Carol's first word as though Dean had never spoken at all.

"Do you understand?" Cas's voice said abruptly, and Sam turned to find the Angel at his shoulder. "He can't have it all, Sam. Dean's normal life and Dean's world with you in it can't exist together."

"No," Sam protested. "There has to be a way."

"Sammy?" Dean asked. "What are you talking about? A way for what?"

"Cas? He can't see you?" Sam demanded.

"See whom?" Dean asked, just as Cas said, "This is a shade of the past, Sam. Of course he can't see me."

"But he can see me."

"Dean will always be able to see you. That's why he can never move on." Cas patted his arm. "If you want him to have a normal life, Sam, you have to go. It's the only way."

"But –"

"Go, Sam. Don't you see? Dean will never be at peace while you're alive, because you'll never be able to make the right decisions. You let him down. You're going to let him down again. It's not your fault. It's just the way things are. If you want him to be happy, if you want to stop making mistakes that could end the world, you have to go."

Cas tugged him towards the door.

Dean followed. "Sammy? Where are you going?"

Sam turned, but before he could say anything, Cas opened the door and pushed him towards it.

"Sam, no!" Dean sounded like he was panicking. "Wait! I don't know why Lisa can't see you, but we'll figure it out. You don't have to go."

Sam shook his head. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Wait! I'll come with you."

"You can't. You have to get back to your Christmas dinner and I… I've got a decision to make."

"Sam!" Dean snatched at his arm, pulling him back.

"This isn't real. I have to go, Dean."

"No. You can't leave, don't be stupid. Or, wait – if you have to go, tell me how to contact you. I'll call you tomorrow when they're gone. Or tonight – Sammy –"

Cas shoved Sam out the door.

"Sammy!"

The last thing Sam saw was the glimmer of tears in Dean's eyes. Then he'd stumbled through the doorway, and he was back in the motel room.

"What was that?" Sam demanded.

"It was a warning. Think about what you're doing. Consider the risks, Sam, and not just to yourself, but to your brother and to the world. You are a danger."

Cas backed out the door again. Sam didn't bother following; he knew he'd just see the motel corridor if he opened the door.

He sank into a chair.

Cas was… well, Cas wasn't entirely wrong, was he? There'd been other people involved, and external factors, and it hadn't been completely Sam's fault, but…

But the fact remained that a hundred things could, probably would, go wrong if Sam decided to go back to the land of the living. And he couldn't do anything about other people's mistakes, but if he could even ensure that he made fewer of his own…

Sam buried his face in his hands.

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