Huge thanks to Jenjoremy for beta'ing and to Gredelina1 and SandraEngstrom2 for general awesomeness.

Happy New Year folks. Hope 2015 is good to you all.

Chapter Twenty-Six

"You've saved my life over and over. I mean, you sacrifice everything for me. Don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

When Sam woke again, he was back in Dean's bedroom with a blanket over him. As he blinked wearily and got his bearings, someone cleared his throat. Dean was standing at the end of the bed with his arms folded across his chest and his jaw tensed.

"What happened?" Sam asked drowsily.

"You took a nose dive at my feet because you were a stubborn jerk who got out of bed about a week before you were ready."

Sam rolled his eyes and struggled to sit.

"What're you doing now?"

"Sitting up," he said. "I feel like I'm on my deathbed like this."

"Close enough," Dean replied sharply.

"Dean, calm down. It's not that bad. I feel better than I did earlier."

"Earlier was yesterday, Sam!You still look like hell, so you're staying put or I'll have Berieah knock you out again."

Sam frowned. "Wait… you've been keeping me out? For a whole day?"

Dean shrugged. "Seemed to be the only way to keep you in bed, so I went with it."

Sam glared at him. After all they'd been through, all they'd done, Dean was still making choices for him that he had no right to make.

"Pull the bitch face all you like," Dean said, unconcerned. "It doesn't change a thing."

"Apparently nothing does," Sam said bitterly. He pushed himself upright and sat back against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him. "Why should I be able to make a choice for myself when you can just get another angel to screw with me?" It was a low blow and he knew it, but he was pissed.

Dean looked like he wanted to say something harsh in return, but when he spoke he was calm. "I did what I had to do."

Sam laughed softly. "Yeah, I bet you did."

Dean spoke through gritted teeth. "Look Sam, if I hadn't done what I did, you would be dead. How about a little gratitude?"

"Gratitude!" Sam laughed. "For stuffing me with an angel and almost getting Kevin killed?"

"I'm talking about yesterday, Sam, not what happened then."

"I'm talking about both times!"

Dean stepped forward, his hands clenched at his sides. Sam thought he was going to punch him but he didn't. Instead, he loomed over Sam with his hands fisted, almost vibrating with frustrated rage. "It's so easy for you, isn't it? You can decide you've had enough with life and skip off with Death. You can plot with an angel to be murdered. You can go strolling around the bunker days before you should even be out of bed, face-planting at my feet when your body can't take anymore. What about me? I'm the one who has to live in the world you leave behind. I'm the one who sees the pictures of you with your eyes burned out. I'm the one who finds you chained in a bathroom, half dead, and I'm the one who has to catch you when you fall!"

Sam looked away. He felt uncomfortable in the face of Dean's anger because he could tell it was born of desperation. He hadn't known Dean had seen the picturesGadreel had taken. He couldn't have known when he and Gadreel had hatched their plan that Dean would ever find out what they'd done. And maybe he should have stayed in bed till he was stronger, but Gadreel's life had been on the line, and Sam couldn't just let him die.

"I couldn't let you kill Gadreel," he said defensively.

Dean shook his head and turned away. "But you can beat me half to death and that's okay? I guess a lifetime of being brothers isn't as important as having an angel to buddy up with, right?"

"I had no choice. It was the only way to keep you and Kevin safe."

"Because explaining wouldn't have had the same impact as a beating, right?"

Sam's jaw jutted out. "No, because I knew if you'd thought I was in any way trapped, you would make it your mission to help me, even at the cost of your own life. I had to make you believe I was done. I did what I had to do."

"Like I'm some kind of halfwit that can only understand violence."

Sam groaned. "Be honest with yourself for once. If you'd known I was backed into a corner, would you have stayed here with Kevin? Or would you have come after me?"

"I would have made sure Kevin was safe first. I would have left Cas with him."

"And who would have kept you safe?" Sam asked.

Dean's eyes narrowed. "I don't need you to keep me safe, Sam."

"And I don't need you to keep me alive." Sam sagged back against the headboard. "Look, I know it must have been hard for you, everything that happened, but you've got to trust that sometimes I know what I'm doing." He could see the reply in Dean's eyes, and he spoke over him. "I know I've screwed up before, but it's been a long time since Ruby, and I learned my lesson. I won't make the same mistake again. I won't screw the world over a second time."

"And yourself? What's to stop you screwing us both over by you diving toward death?" His jaw tightened. "Do you want to die, Sam? Is that what this is about?"

"No!" Sam said a little too quickly for it to be believable. He looked into Dean's horrified eyes and shook his head, his anger evaporating. "I thought I did. I thought I was done, that I'd had enough. Even up until a couple weeks ago I thought that. Then I thought Gadreel was going to kill me, and I realized I could die without ever making things right with you. That was… I changed my mind."

"That's not reassuring, Sam. You didn't want to live, you just didn't want to go before you'd made me feel better."

"No, it's more than that," Sam said doggedly. "It's you and Cas and Kevin. If there's a reason for me to go, to do some good, then I'll die happy. But I'm not throwing myself under the bus for nothing. Can you honestly say you wouldn't do the same?"

"I don't want to die," Dean said harshly.

"Neither do I, but I'm not afraid of it either."

Dean was silent. Sam could see the conflict in his eyes. Dean would die for the cause, too. He'd been primed for that all of his adult life. But he wouldn't let Sam die. It wasn't about not letting him make decisions for himself; it was about letting go. Dean had never been able to let Sam go, and it was unlikely he ever would be.

"Let's just…" Sam sighed, "stow this for now and talk about it some other time." Like never.

Dean looked torn. Sam knew he wanted to get away from this conversation, he was uncomfortable with emotional stuff, but at the same time he wasn't reassured by what Sam had said.

"We are going to talk about this, Sam," he said. "We're having this conversation eventually whether you like it or not."

Sam nodded, relieved. "Okay. We will."

He swung his legs around to the edge of the bed and eased himself to his feet. Dean grabbed his shoulders. "Whoa, what are you doing?"

"I need the bathroom."

Dean released him and stepped back. "Can you manage it alone?"

Sam laughed. "I've been able to for a few years now." He made his way across the room slowly. He felt shaky and weak still, but he was dammed if he was going to let Dean help him get to the bathroom. He had to get back on his feet fast if he was going to be able to help anyone.

"I'll get you something to eat," Dean said to his retreating back.

"Sure," Sam said, waving an airy hand. "I'll be right out."

"I'm bringing it here."

"I'm eating in the library," Sam replied.

"You're going to be hungry then because there won't be any food there."

Sam smiled as he let the door close behind him. Dean's hair trigger anxiety aside, it was good to be back.

Dean came out of the kitchen with a tray in his hands to see Sam sitting at the table with a beaming smile in place. Dean started to walk right past him, to deliver the tray to his room where Sam could get his ass back in bed like the invalid he was, but Sam called after him. "C'mon, man, I'm hungry."

Dean sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. Why couldn't Sam once, just once, do what was best for him? He was pale and shaky and looked like he might collapse again at any moment, and he really belonged in bed, but the stubborn ass was going to push his luck all the way again.

He turned and set the tray down roughly on the table. "Fine. Eat where you want. I don't care."

"Thank you," Sam said happily, picking up the sandwich Dean had made and taking a bite.

Dean sat opposite him and looked around the room. Sam had spent the past day asleep, and Dean had spent it sitting right by his little brother's side. Castiel had come and gone occasionally, and even Kevin had come in once—to check Sam was okay, Dean was sure—but they'd been left alone mainly. It wouldn't last though. Mrs. Tran was still in the bunker somewhere and she'd want that chat Dean had promised. Kevin had prophet duties to attend to, and Castiel and his sidekicks were making noise about Gadreel, so that would have to be dealt with. Dean was exhausted after a couple days of snatches of sleep in a hard chair, but it was unlikely he was going to get much rest for a while yet.

Sam pushed his plate away after eating only half of the sandwich Dean had made him. "Sorry, man," he said in response to Dean's raised eyebrow. "I guess my stomach's shrunk or something. It's been a while since I ate a real meal."

Dean was curious. "I guess Gadreel wasn't much for meal stops."

Sam shook his head. "Not really. I mean, when I was in control it was okay, I could eat, but the fact that I didn't really need to kindamade it seem stupid. I think the last time I ate was the day Metatron found us, and that was a couple weeks ago."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean you were in control?"

Sam stared pointedly into his eyes. "We'd split time basically. Sometimes Gadreel was running the switches while I was stuck in my own head, and other times I was the one in charge while Gadreel was working on fixing me."

"And you didn't think, not even once, to maybe call me up and let me know you were okay?"

Sam sighed and raked his hands over his face. "Dean, I'm not doing this again. You know why I kept my distance, and it wasn't because I was having a blast with Gadreel. I was trying to save your life. Kevin's too."

Dean opened his mouth to reply, to tell Sam he didn't need saving, but Castiel chose that moment to appear. Dean wondered if he'd been lurking out of sight and had chosen that moment to join them to avert another blowout.

"Hey," Sam said, looking up and smiling at the angel.

"Sam." There was more than a greeting in Castiel's voice. He was expressing relief and pleasure in the single syllable. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Sam said quickly, and Dean wondered if he was managing to convince himself because he wasn't fooling anyone else.

Castiel narrowed his eyes and looked Sam up and down. "You are healing."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "Okay."

"Now that you are awake, we need to decide what to do with Bartholomew," Castiel said. "Human he may be, but he is still a nuisance."

"He's human?" Sam asked. "Did Metatron get him, too?"

Dean grinned. "Nah, that's all down to Cas. He slit the slippery son of a bitch's throat and nabbed the grace for himself."

Sam looked confused and Dean realized he hadn't been filled in on the whole borrowed grace thing yet. They had a lot to catch up on.

"Okay," Sam said slowly. "If you slit his throat, why does he look like his face has been put through a grinder?"

"Yeah, Cas," Dean grinned as he turned to the angel. "Want to tell Sammy what happened there?"

"I was upset," Castiel said, "and he was deserving."

"Was it something he said?" Sam asked. "'Cause if it was, I'd like to know what. I don't want to slip up and end up looking like him."

Missing the joke completely, Castiel said, "I wouldn't do that to you, Sam. It was in vengeance of your suffering that Bartholomew was hurt."

"Oh." Sam rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Well, thanks, Cas."

Castiel smiled slightly. "You are more than welcome. Now, what would you like to do with Bartholomew?"

Sam expression became solemn. "I don't know. Dean?"

Dean leaned back in his chair. "I guess we could kill him. He deserves it after all. But it doesn't feel like enough to me."

"We have another option," Castiel said with a grim smile. "I can wipe his memories and set him loose. He would have no recollection of Metatron or us or even of being an angel. He would be just another vagrant with problems."

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding. "That works for me.

"Good," Castiel said with satisfaction. "I will attend to that. Also, there is the matter of Gadreel to discuss. We need to decide what we are going to do with him."

Dean cursed internally. It wasn't like he didn't think Sam would find out about their prisoner still being there, but he'd thought maybe he'd have a few more hours to come up with a good enough excuse for keeping him other than 'I don't like him', though that was an understatement. He more than disliked the angel; he hated him. No matter why he did it or whose agreement he had or even how temporary it was, the fact he had been the one to kill Sam didn't sit with him.

"He's still here?" Sam glared at Dean. "What the hell?"

"Yeah, he's still here," Dean said. "You think I was just going to let the brother killing psycho angel roam free?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, we've talked about this. He did what he had to do for the mission, and it was my idea."

"Which is all kinds of comforting," Dean said angrily. "It doesn't matter that you died just as long as it was your idea."

"I told you to let him go!" Sam snapped.

Dean clapped a hand to his forehead. "Oh, I forgot you're the boss of me. So sorry, Sam. I'll run off and let him free now, shall I?"

"Yeah," Sam said, ignoring the sarcasm completely. "Go do that."

Dean looked to Castiel for support only to find Castiel nodding with Sam. "I think that would be best, Dean."

Dean's mouth dropped open. "You're joking, right?"

"No. I have spent a great deal of time talking with Gadreel, and I believe he is acting for the greater good, too. He wants to see Metatrondealt with almost as much as we do. He is our best chance of successful incursion."

Dean shook his head. "I don't believe this crap."

Castiel sighed. "You asked me to lead, Dean, and I am."

"I didn't ask you to lead me!"

"Nonetheless, that is what I am doing."

Dean stared from him to Sam uncomprehendingly. How could they not see this was wrong? Gadreel had killed Sam! How could they let him go after that?He was tempted to point out that Castiel's decision making hadn't ended well in the past, nor had Sam's, but he bit his tongue. He didn't exactly have the best track record of choices lately either.

"Okay," he said reluctantly, mainly because he had a feeling that they'd let Gadreel loose whether he agreed or not. "We'll let him go, but neither of you can give me any crap about Crowley. Understood?"

Castiel nodded and Sam asked, "What about Crowley?"

Dean grinned and braced himself for the mother of all bitch fits from Sam. "I let him go."

So… We're getting to the end now. Only a few more chapters to go. Hope you enjoyed this one.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx