Chapter 8.
Sam spent an hour at the firing range, blasting away his rage and frustration and hopefully, keeping his skills sharp. His aim was excellent, effortless, as natural as breathing. The hunter in him was satisfied. The Winchester desperate for John's approval and Dean's was content. He still wanted to tear the place apart or punch someone.
He wanted to kill Michael.
He went to the Dean Cave, locked the door and settled down to fail to watch whatever uninspiring eye-fodder happened to be available. Moments after he started it playing, his mind wandered from it and it became irrelevant. He had other things to think about.
Hell had not been good for Dean. It was only in the past few years that Dean had even begun to address what it had done to him and the damage was extensive. Because of Hell, Dean thought he was evil. Because of Hell, Dean thought he was worthless. That both had endured Hell should have brought them closer together, but it had thrown up walls between them that they had then had to tear down with their teeth - and the Winchester Pact.
They had started to do exactly that. First, using Cas as a safe pair of ears, saying to him what they could not say to each other and then, finding him not to believe them monsters, finding him able to face what they said, they had begun ... only begun to talk to each other.
Recently, they had admitted things to each other they had hidden for most of their lives. Dean had confessed to weaknesses that were weaknesses only in his own mind and Sam had been able to tell him that. It hadn't been perfect and they'd both been guilty of slipping back into bad habits, but now, they caught themselves and apologised and would, after a brief pause, make an effort to return to the path of progress and teamwork.
Then Michael, with his sledgehammer brutality and disregard for humanity had tricked Dean into saying yes and hijacked his body and soul. That he had ditched him when the body was injured, under circumstances that made little sense so far did not help at all.
If Dean had broken free, it might be different, but he had not. Michael had discarded him like a burger wrapper. Dean's self-esteem had never been high and surrendering his will to Michael even unintentionally, had been devastating for him. Being cast aside without explanation just made it worse. Sam knew his brother. Going to Sarah was good, but going without him meant only one thing, Dean was ashamed.
All those hours of talking, all those moments when he or Cas got through to Dean and made him feel respected, validated, loved and forgiven, all seemed pointless now.
That he wanted to overcome the issues he had brought home with him was good, a sign of the strength that he had never lost, even when all hope seemed gone. Dean would never stop fighting, even if the fight seemed pointless. He was John Winchester's son and John had clawed his way out of Hell to fight for his sons.
Dean would always be strong, even in his weakest moments, but the shame and guilt he carried, always a heavy burden, now seemed infinite. If the Pact had worked, he would have asked Sam to go with him, knowing that whatever he said or felt or tried not to say or feel, Sam would never change his good opinion of him, would never stop loving him. But the Pact had clearly failed. Sam had failed. Michael had crushed Dean's spirit and destroyed, not just his always fragile faith in himself, but his faith in his brother's love and the bonds of blood.
For a moment, the choice to take Cas had felt like it was underlining his rejection of Sam. It was not, "I need to be alone." but, "I need not to be with you." A lifetime of fear that he was unworthy of Dean's devotion had been screaming in his head when he had punched out that one-word text that seemed so unkind and resentful now.
The word 'fine' could mean anything, of course. A text had no tone. He could claim, if necessary, that he had meant it differently. But they had been breathing the same air for a lifetime. They could finish each other's sentences, when they even needed words at all. Dean knew how he would take the decision to take Cas and he knew exactly how Dean would hear that "Fine." in his head.
Just for that single moment, he had meant it that way. It hurt, to be pushed aside, once again, for someone else ... anyone else, but especially the angel. Who was their best friend. Who loved Dean as much as he did. Who was now with him, in the car, countering any shame or self-blame he uttered with patient, unconditional friendship.
When he thought about it, that was quite something. Dean didn't want angels anywhere near him after Michael. His desire to change that and overcome it so he and Cas could remain friends was laudable and nothing proved his intention to do that more than having that specific angel right beside him on a day when he was clearly not feeling his best.
Dean was trying, which made Sam feel like a dick for taking it all so personally when he should have been supporting whatever Dean needed to do. He was behaving like an insecure eleven-year-old when Dean needed adult support. No wonder he would rather take the mature, wise angel.
It wasn't like that, he knew. Dean had taken Cas because he knew that avoiding Cas would not solve anything. He was defeating his emotional issues by an act of will and as his brother ... as a Winchester, Sam was proud of him. In his own way, Dean was killing Michael right now, by defeating the darkness he had left behind.
He couldn't send another text, especially the one he wanted to send, without telling Dean he knew how the previous one had sounded and also knew that the trip to Ionia had nothing to do with electrical renovation, but alone in the Dean Cave, grateful for once that he had no mental link with Dean, he whispered, "Kick it in the ass, Dean."