Practically speeding in the opposite direction from where he last was, Dean suddenly feels the urge to stop in his tracks. Thirty solid minutes of half-blind, intense driving, and here he sits, still in the middle of nowhere. Although, it doesn't feel like nowhere. It feels as though he finally reached what he had been searching for. That his brother, or something resembling his brother, is likely inside the building up ahead. He knows he isn't ready to face whatever it is, but his instincts push him otherwise.
"Is this where your soul was tugging you to?" Bobby asks, leaning to peer out the window.
"I guess it is." Dean says.
They sit in silence for a couple moments, looking around at wherever the hell they were at.
"What do you suppose we do now?" Bobby asks.
"I cannot sense anything, which could be both good, or bad. I think we should be prepared for anything." Cas answers.
"Sounds like a plan to me." Dean replies.
The three of them get out of the car and instantly head for the trunk arsenal. Dean and Bobby both grab duffles and stuff them, with shotguns, iron, latin spell books; anything you can possibly think of. They don't bother to pack anything for Cas, since his grace could decimate anything in proximity.
Dean closes the trunk and swallows down the lump in his throat. Bobby seems to notice this and places a firm hold on the Winchester's left shoulder.
"We will get your brother back." He reassures.
Dean nods. "I know."
He looks ahead at the building; it's as if it was planted in the middle of nowhere, just like the other ones. But unlike the other ones, this one has a different feeling to it, just like Chuck had explained the night before. But it made no sense, because they all look exactly the same. Why the thing, no, Sam, chose this building out of all of the others scattered throughout America, he didn't have a clue. Maybe it was random? It had to be random.
"Let's go." Dean says.
The other two follow him, just as unsure. But they all go in, not really having a choice. They could choose the other choice, but it could only be imagined what waited for them if they did.
Like in every cheesy horror movie Dean has ever seen, the rusty, metal door creaks to the touch. The whole premises, from the road to the warehouse; is pitch black. The only thing lighting their paths is the small beam from each of their flashlights, only making everything all the more foreboding. Dean is only a couple steps into the building when Cas speaks up from behind.
"Guys, stop."
"Why, what's wrong?" Dean asks, noticing Cas hasn't even come through the door.
"I can't go in; it's warded." Cas says.
"Can you sense where the warding is? Maybe we can break it." Bobby suggests before Dean can explode.
"No; it's all over the building. There isn't anything I can do in time, I'm sorry. But please keep me updated through prayer." Cas says apologetically.
"Seriously? Ugh. It's got to be Sam, he always knows his spells and all that." Dean says, "Well, let's get a move on."
"We promise to keep you updated, Cas." Bobby says before they head down the dark corridor.
After walking for a couple minutes, they come across a glow, illuminating a small area. The two hunters look at each other and approach with caution. When they peer around the corner, they see a large silhouette in a decent-sized room. The room is somehow almost completely lit by four, large red candles. In front of the silhouette, a pattern is drawn onto the floor with blood, a lot of blood. The source of it likely being from one of the bowls sitting by the figure. Dean somehow musters up the strength to force his vocal chords to work.
"Sam?"
The figure stands still, as if Dean's question went completely unheard. Again, Bobby and Dean glance at one another, before deciding to slowly move forward. The figure still remains motionless; something heavy starts to sit in Dean's gut. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. As he creeps closer, he begins to see the familiar curls and the end of the silhouette's hair. He then puts the pieces together; it's Sam.
Without warning, Bobby is sent flying to the side; a sickening thud signaling that he had been knocked out. Dean's eyes never leave his brother, who never moved; time is still. A long silence stretches out for what seems like hours. The only way he knows that it's still present time, is by the flickering of the candles. Dean doesn't even pray, not knowing if his brother thinks he's still in the room.
Sam breaks the uncomfortable silence. "I told you, you shouldn't have come."
Dean remains mute.
"Don't act like you're not here," Sam turns his head, "I can feel your every move."
He's speechless. His brother turns around to face him, causing Dean to feel slightly queasy.
"What? You're afraid to talk to your brother?" Sam asks.
"You're not my brother." Dean mumbles.
Sam smiles and walks closer to Dean. "Oh, I'm your brother alright, just a newer version of him."
"Get out of him, you black-eyed son of a bitch!" Dean yells, pointing a shotgun at his brother.
"Well, that hurt." Sam says.
Dean is then flung roughly to a column behind him; pain searing in every nerve. Sam is suddenly closer and proceeds to pin him.
"Don't you remember the demon-blood fiasco, dumbass? Or are you really trying to convince yourself it isn't me in here?" Sam sneers.
Dean grunts. "Ruby put you up to this, didn't she?"
"Ruby?" Sam laughs. "That bitch had nothing to do with this. If anything, she tried to stop me."
Dean becomes paralysed.
"You don't believe me? How come she didn't know where I was, huh?"
Silence.
"I wanted to do this myself. I wanted to show you pieces of crap that I'm independent. Or you know, maybe I just finally wanted to not be the good-little Sammy anymore. Maybe, I listened to voices inside for once, the ones that told me the world is better this way. Did you ever think of that?"
"Are you out of your mind? How is anything you're doing, good?"
"You've read the bible, you know what lays ahead of us. You were told what he can do, for me, for everyone."
Lucifer, paradise on earth, the apocalypse. The one he is supposed to stop, is right in front of him. But never did he think he would have to stop his own brother in the process.
.
"Sammy, I know part of you is still in there. You don't have to do this. We can work this out another way, I promise you that."
Sam's eyes turn even colder; he faces his back to Dean once again.
Even though Sam is not facing Dean, he can see it all. Sam is... relaxed. Not even one muscle in his body is tensed; he's moving with ease.
"Dean, Dean, Dean," Sam starts. "Did you really think I ever changed?"
It hits him, he has seen this moment before. Two nights ago, exactly. He had a damn vision, and he did nothing to stop it. Dean swallows roughly in response; he almost prays that it was inaudible.
Sam turns around and chuckles. "I changed since you made that dumb deal to bring me back from the dead. I'm shocked that you didn't see it sooner."
He takes his brother's silence as a cue to continue. "You know... The coldheartedness? The bonding with Ruby? The demon blood?"
Dean remains silent in fear of his brother using his own words against him.
"Wow, you really are impotent." Sam pauses "..Or maybe you're afraid of me."
Luckily, Dean had learned how to mask his fear a long time ago. His father's first lessons in manhood were to swallow your pride and fear. But Sam could see right through it; he lived with Dean his whole life after all. John had tried to teach Sam the exact same lessons, only he was too stubborn. Sam turns his back to Dean once again and sighs.
"You know what I'm going to have to do, right?" Sam says, again taking the silence as his cue.
"You see, Dean, you just get in the way of the scheme of things," He strolls back over to his brother, "And, I think the world would be better off without you anyway."
Even though it was useless, Dean begins to struggle against the invisible force holding him as his brother closes in on him. He always knew his life would end short, but by no means did he figure it would be by his own brother; not a demon or a monster posing as hm, but his own blood. He suddenly feels a blinding pain rage throughout his abdomen and up his throat. He looks up to see his brother's cold expression staring back at him; one of his hands cutting off his source of air.
"Not really sorry for this." Sam says.
Black spots begin to threaten his vision just as Sam throws him hard onto the floor. He stands there for a moment, unfaltering, and walks back over to the center of the room. Dean can't find the strength to open his eyes more than slits, nor to go over to his brother, and slap the hell out of him. No matter how hard he struggles, he's still a crumpled mass on the floor. Distantly, he tunes in to hear Sam chanting latin, which causes the floor to quake. To his right, he hears Bobby groan quietly.
Dean miraculously gains enough strength to open his eyes to observe the scene around him. Bobby lay to his far right, in a similar situation Dean was in. Seeing he could not move, Dean assumes the elder hunter either has been badly injured, or is still being pinned by Sam. Dean coughs in efforts to regain his voice. He uses every ounce of strength he has left, and takes the deepest breath he can manage.
"Sam, no, stop." He says hoarsely, his voice just above a whisper.
Sam doesn't meet his brother's eyes.
