Hey guys, I am so sorry for the long break. Let's call it writer block, but I am back now. I hope that you enjoy this. Read and review!

Chapter 6: What's sweet and right

"Stop bossing me around, Dean. Look. My whole life, you take the wheel, you call the shots, and I trust you because you are my brother. Now I'm asking you, for once, trust me."

"No. You don't know what you're doing, Sam."

"Yes, I do."

"Then that's worse."

" Why? Look, I'm telling you..."

" Because it's not something that you're doing, it's what you are! It means..."

"What? No. Say it."

" It means you're a monster."

Sam sat up with a start, his heart hammering against his chest, attempting to break free.

A Monster.

That's what Sam once was and he too often crossed the line to do what it took to save his brother. Even looking back, he would do whatever it took to kill the people that hurt his brother. Now they stood on the precipice, at the end of the line and Sam knew in his heart that he wouldn't let anything happen to his brother.

Tremoring hands reached out to grab his water, to settle himself. Those had been the worst days of his life; when he was under the thrall of the demon's blood. He may have lost the craving, but he could never forget the beautiful destructive power it fed him. The last time he tasted the poisonous ecstasy, he had been preparing himself for accepting Lucifer as his host. He was doing what it took to do the right thing. That made up for a lot of the damage he had crafted, but it wasn't enough.

The closer they got to the time to return to the cage, the more intense the nightmares were.

He stilled prayed to God; he wasn't sure if there was even anyone listening any more. He begged for forgiveness. He pleaded for the chance to make every thing right. He hoped that one day, he would find the peace he so desperately needed.

"Please, God. Please. I just, we need a win, after everything, we need a win. Please." With one last glance at the ceiling, at somewhere beyond, he rolled off of his bed. He had only a little time left before they left; he had to finish up getting ready.

…

Dean glanced out the windscreen, cold lifeless eyes staring out. "No, you listen to me. There's no trade. There's no meet-up. There's no nothing - except the 100% guarantee that, somewhere down the road, I will find you, and I will kill you."

"Well, that'll be a cold comfort to your dead brother."

"I told him to let me go. So whatever jam he's in now, that is his problem."

"Yeah, well, I'll be sure to pass that on to him as I'm slitting his throat."

"Yeah, you do that, 'cause he knows me. And he knows damn sure that if I am one thing; I am a man of my word."

He shook his read roughly, trying to force the memory away. It's so easy to remember the unforgiveable things you have done, when you are so close to the end of the road.

Eyes, brimming with unshed tears, stared at the old, well-worn photograph of Dean holding Sammy when he was a baby: before the life altering event that sent them spiraling.

It was useless reliving his time as a demon. At the end of the day, they were some of the worst things he has done; the highest forms of betrayal for his little brother, of who they are. In a way, despite the pain, it was also comforting that he would be closing that chapter. He may be going back to hell, but this almost seemed sweet and right: it was his long overdue penance.

Time was ticking. Tick. Tock. It was almost time.

…

The grand clock struck midnight, with gentle grandeur welcoming the dawn of a new day. Little did the clock know, it was knelling the beginning of a fateful day.

Dean sat waiting, poised like a snake ready to strike. Like an addict drawn to his heroine, Sam sat next his brother, ready to take on hell itself.

Cautiously, Charlie unpacked and packed her bag on loop. One-by-one she laid each item on the table, checked them, and carefully placed them back in. Again. And again. She muttered silently to herself, mostly in languages the boys did not know, some sounded Enochian.

"Are you sure Stull Cemetery is where you want to do this? It seems tragically prophetic to go back to that God forsaken place. Seems bloody morbid if you ask me." Crowley reasoned, as he perched on the back of a chair in the library.

"No one asked you Crowley. Cut it out. It is what it is." Dean was tired; he didn't want any more arguing.

"It should be there; we can't do it here, with all of the wards and protections. Better place as any." Sam stood, ready to leave.

Crowley raised his hands in mock defeat "ok, ok, I was just saying!"

"Well don't." The last of the nonpareil defenders had arrived, shrouded in his usual oppressive trench coat and askew tie. 'It's time."

Standing tall, Castiel stood expectantly, waiting for everyone to take their position, so he could transport them to their place of reckoning.

"And what will ye do in the day of visitation, and in the desolation which shall come from far? To whom will ye flee for help? And where will ye leave your glory?" Crowley looked as Castiel, with no challenge in his eye, just open acceptance of what was about to come.

"Isiah 10:3… interesting choice…" Castiel spoke, as he pulled them out of existence and into the lion's den. Stull Cemetery waited.

"This isn't going to be easy; this comes with so many risks. You will never know just how grateful I am, for all of you. You didn't have to be here, but you are. I don't want any chick flick moments; no one is dying today. We are going to save Adam." Dean retrieved Ruby's knife from his belt loop, and passed it to Sam. "Keep your eyes on the prize and stay by my side, Sammy." He then pulled out the First Blade, which was wrapped in a weathered shroud.

As Sam accepted the blade, he nodded in obedience. There was nowhere else he would rather be.

Dean swiftly pulled Charlie into his safe embrace and placed a soft kiss on her head. "You got this kid; I believe in you. It'll be ok, I promise." Her eyes betrayed her fear, she didn't know what the payment would be, but she had horrible suspicions that Dean would not make it out unscathed. She squeezed him and then stepped away, preparing the Horseman's ring and the ingredients for the ritual.

"Everything must go as we planned." He turned his blazing gaze to Castiel, his meaning blindingly clear to his feathered comrade. "Crowley, Castiel… you are protecting Charlie. If anything comes close, you kill it without question- Angel or Demon. This is a closed party and ain't no one else invited."

"I'm ready, Dean. Are you sure about this?" She glanced with a furrowed brow. "Last chance to say no" she finished with an uneasy laugh. "Thought not."

"Sammy, you ready? No matter what happens, if things go badly, if there is trouble, you grab Adam and you get him out of there. I can look after myself. Our little brother is the priority here. You got it?" He looked at Sam evenly. "You and Adam get out of there as soon as you can."

"Leaving you behind isn't an option, Dean." Sam challenged.

"God dammit, Sam. This isn't about me. This is about Adam and making sure that he is free of that bastard down there. I will get Michael out of him, but he will be weak and he will be traumatised. You know what it was like down there; he has been there for hundreds of years longer. He'll need your understanding and protection."

Sam looked away and nodded sharply. It went against his gut instinct, but this was their brother they were going to get; he had to make sure that Adam got out of there. It was time that Adam got the Winchester treatment: never leave a man behind and Winchester brothers go to hell and back for each other.

"Let's do this, Sammy."

Dean threw the assembled Horseman's rings to the ground and began the ill fated words "Bvtmon Tabges Babalon."

"If this is all there is for me, then I don't want it: a world without you. It's not happening." Sam blurted out as Dean finished.

"Sammy, what are you talking about?" Confusion and panic battled for control.

"I know, Dean, I know. The payment, your suffering and what you are planning to do. That's not gonna happen man. You're the mission, you're the only one who can make it all alright after this."

"Sammy, you can't stop this, not now."

Like a lethal earthquake, the ground shook and a hole was torn out, to act as a portal. Dean reached out to grab his brother; Sam's hands were seeking contact, but instead landed on the handle of the First Blade.

Without a second glace, Sam jumped into the abyss once again. He was returning home.

…

"So you're saying that Dean doesn't need to use the power of the Mark of Cain to close the gate? Anyone can do it, as long as they have the blade?" Sam was incredulous. Once again Dean was playing secret protector to Sam, doing whatever he could to take the heat.

"Where did you get that idea from?" Charlie looked bemused at Sam, and then realisation dawned. "Dean. Of course." She shook her head in exasperation. "When will he learn?"

Sam sat quietly and didn't respond, for he knew the answer; he knew that Dean would never learn because it was do deeply ingrained into him to protect his little brother. Sam didn't even think that Dean thought twice about telling Sam it had to be him; as far as Dean was concerned, it did have to be him.

"As for the payment, God knows what that will entail, but it'll be unpleasant, I'm sure." Charlie eyed her empty bottle. "Just make sure that you are on hand to drag him out if need be. I'd imagine it'd be like an Angel Trial, doable but costly. He sure as hell likes to burden himself." She said sadly. "You both do."

If you ever asked him how, he would never be able to tell you. The Angels would never want an easy option when it came to springing someone out. He just knew deep within his soul exactly what that price was and he was sure as hell Dean had come to the same conclusion. Which was why he had never mentioned the payment to Sam before.

This was a blood payment; Dean intended to pay with his life, his soul. The ultimate sacrifice. Again.

He was used to this feeling, the world crashing down around him and his heart sinking to new lows. Dean never learned. But this time he wouldn't let him; Dean would not pay that price. Not when it didn't have to be him, Sam would die in the place of the person he loved the most.

Dean entered holding three chilled beers and wearing an absent look of troubled thought. He sprung a smile as soon as he looked at Sam. Gladly taking the offered bottles from Dean, Sam and Charlie exchanged a knowing look when they saw the strained expression on Dean's face.