Chapter 23.
At 7 am, Sam decided it was reasonable to check on Dean. He had been wanting to for hours, but the last thing he wanted was to make Dean feel he was under supervision. 7 am seemed fair. He knocked on the door of Dean's room and said, "Dean? You awake?"
There was no response. He quietly opened the door. Dean lay facing away from the door, faking sleep pretty well.
"Are you pretending to be asleep?" said Sam.
"Nah." mumbled Dean, "I'm asleep."
"Yeah. Okay. I take it you'd prefer to be left alone."
"What time is it?"
"About seven." said Sam.
"Come back in an hour, with coffee."
"You'll be awake then?"
"I may even be dressed."
"Did you sleep at all?"
Dean turned to look at him and Sam was pretty sure he had been awake all night. "Did you?" he said.
"I think so. For maybe an hour." said Sam.
"What am I gonna do with you, Sammy?"
"Drink coffee, one hour from now. Try to nap a little, at least."
"Mom fusses less than you do."
"Mom doesn't know you like I do." said Sam.
An hour later, he returned with two cups of coffee. Dean had showered and changed and was watching some godawful slasher movie. "What the Hell are you watching?" he asked.
"How can you not recognise Death Dagger 3?" said Dean, pausing it.
"How can you watch that crap?" said Sam.
"Hey, you hand over my coffee before you judge my choice of movie!" said Dean.
Sam gave him his coffee and sat at the desk with his own. "You look half-dead."
"Wow. Did you ever think of recording some affirmations?"
"How was your night?"
"Eventful and not in the fun way. Talked to Jack, talked to Mom."
"Talked or just talked?" said Sam.
Dean avoided eye contact. After too long a pause, he said, "I think I said too little to Jack, too much to Mom. Jack was feeling bad about thinking Michael should be killed at any cost. I told him it's okay and it is okay." He sounded as if he needed to convince himself of that.
Sam avoided comment. Sometimes, silence could draw Dean out a little.
He said, "Of course it's okay. I would have said the same thing."
Again, Sam chose not to respond.
"He said he would have given his own life to save mine."
"Yes, he would." said Sam, "He was looking for ways to do that."
"You stopped him, right?"
"I told him it wasn't what you would want. We all did. Dean, there is no way he would have sacrificed you."
"We all swear we'll do whatever it takes, but if it takes a life that matters to us, suddenly we're looking for another way."
"And if there's another way, that sacrifice is not whatever it takes, is it?" said Sam.
"I wanted to kill him before he was born."
"No, none of us did. We just thought we had to."
"He's alive because the angel protected him from me."
"From us and from Heaven and from Hell. Dean, we had no idea what we were dealing with."
"He knew."
It seemed incongruous. Dean spoke of "he" and "the angel" as if the words were poison to him, but seemed to be praising him. Sam watched his brother's evasive eyes, trying to guess at all the unsaid things, good and bad, that underlay the few things he could say. He kept quiet, waiting for Dean to speak again.
"That was before Michael and I already wanted to kill him." said Dean at last.
"Jack?"
"And he knows that. And he knows I came back wrong. He knows I hate his kind now."
"He doesn't have a kind. There's just one of him and you love him like a son."
"Like a son." said Dean, "Yeah, cos I'm such a great father, huh?"
"Yes, you are." said Sam.
Dean took a long, slow drink of coffee and then looked suddenly into Sam's eyes. "Just once, stop defending me. Just once, tell the truth."
"The truth is, Jack adores and idolises you. So did Ben. So do I, now and always."
Dean spoke as if the words were being dredged from deep in his gut and were studded with barbs. "Every life he takes, every atrocity he commits, every evil thing he does, I gave him a chance to do."
"Jack?" said Sam, genuinely befuddled.
"Michael." said Dean.
"You can't blame yourself."
"So who should I blame? Jack? You? The angel?"
"How about Lucifer?" said Sam.
Dean threw the cup at the wall and it broke into three pieces. "Don't say that name. Don't think it!"
"Aren't I supposed to be the one that feels that way?"
"You think I can forget what he did to you? You think I ever will?"
"He's dead, Dean. You killed him."
"Not soon enough." said Dean. He stood up and headed for the broken china.
"Stop!" said Sam, not wanting him near any sharp objects, "Leave that. I'll clean it up later."
"And that dumbass let him out of the cage."
"Dean, that was a long time ago."
"I hate him."
"Lucifer or Cas?"
"What's the difference?" said Dean. He went and stood in front of the mirror, staring into his own eyes as if looking for a friend there. Then he turned away, seemingly disappointed. "I didn't mean that." he said.
"I know that." said Sam, "I'm glad you know it too."
Dean went to the jacket that was hanging on the door. He reached into a pocket and took out a handful of bullets. "You should have these." he said.
"What for?" said Sam as he took them, but then he recognised what they were. "Angel killing bullets?"
Dean handed over his angel blade too. "In case I lose it completely. I don't trust him to defend himself."
"Because you know he'd rather die than kill you."
"Exactly. He's dumb enough."
"Dean, he's one of us. If you don't trust him to defend himself, it's because you know he's your friend, so why can't you just be his friend?"
"Because I don't trust him." said Dean.
Sam showed him the bullets. "And this makes it pretty clear that you don't trust yourself either."
"Of course I don't. I'm crazy, I'm corrupted or I'm compromised. Locking me up wouldn't be a bad idea."
"It sounds like a terrible idea to me." said Sam.
"Well, for now, I'm staying here. Close the door on your way out."
Sam gathered the broken bits of the coffee cup and headed for the door. "If you need anything ... "
"Yeah, I know."