Chapter 14.

On arrival at the bunker, Cas went immediately to seek Jules and Dean made his way to the library where, as expected, Sam was on his laptop. "Anything I should know?" said Dean.

"No." said Sam, "The ghoul hunt went well. No injuries worse than cuts and bruises and everything here has been quiet."

"That's good." said Dean. Talking to Sam seemed suddenly almost as hard as talking to Cas.

"How was Sarah?" said Sam.

"Sarah was great."

"Relieved to see you, I'll bet."

"Hmm." That seemed an inadequate answer, even to him. "It was good to see her again." he said.

"And you and Cas? How did that go?"

"It went okay."

"You know I'll be asking him too, right?"

"Yeah, I know. I'm pretty sure he'll give the same answer." He saw the sceptical look in Sam's eyes and added, "Because it's true."

He stood awkwardly, beside the table, knowing he should sit down and talk to his brother, but wanting not to endure any more difficult conversations. Sam seemed equally uneasy, watching his eyes, but pretending not to.

"Hey, you got a minute?" said Dean, trying to sound casual about it.

"Of course." said Sam.

"Just to be clear, you can say no."

"But presumably yes is also an option. You wanna talk here or ... "

"Let's take a drive."

"You just came back from a drive."

"Sammy, I have pie."

Sam stood up. "Hold on a second, your pie or Sarah's pie?"

"Are you saying my pie isn't good enough?"

"No, just that your pie isn't Sarah's."

"It's one of hers."

"Then let's go." said Sam.

They left with the pie and a cooler full of beer. When the bunker was out of sight, Dean said, "I'm sorry, Sam."

"About taking Cas? It's okay. It made sense. I'm sorry I was weird about it. It's not about me."

"I thought taking him was the best way. We'll never beat this thing if I avoid him, but avoiding him was precisely what I wanted to do. I am sorry that I made it seem like I didn't want you around ... "

"You didn't. I'm not sure you do now." said Sam, his insight as accurate as it was unwelcome.

Dean chose to ignore it. "But that's not all I have to apologise for. I'm sorry for all of it. Leaving you like that ... "

"You didn't."

"Saying yes to Michael."

"We've been over this."

"Everything, Sam, every time I screwed you over. Every time I let you down. Every bad decision I ever made."

"You brought me out here to listen to this? I hoped you wanted to talk."

"I am talking. This is me talking. Watch my lips."

"This is you talking the same crap you've been talking for years." said Sam, "You never let me down, never! Even when it meant taking the one step you were determined never to take ... when it meant surrendering your life to that twisted, monstrous archangel ... "

"I can't talk about that." said Dean, "I'm trying not to think about it."

"You did that for me."

"Yes."

"And then you apologise to me?" said Sam.

"If I'd found another way ... "

"Yeah, what way would that be? If you'd wasted time looking for one, we'd be dead. If you'd hesitated for a moment, we'd be dead. You did what you always do, you thought on your feet and did something reckless that also happened to be the only right thing to do."

"I said I didn't wanna talk about this. Still don't." said Dean.

"And you apologise and talk like you're ashamed."

"Because of me, he's walking the Earth, our Earth. You expect me to feel good about that?"

"Because of you, we have a shot at killing him. You should feel good about that and you should talk about all of it, good and bad, because I'm your brother and I get it and I can help. I was ridden around by Lucifer."

"It's not the same."

"Because Lucifer and Michael are so different? Because I'm not seeing much of a difference."

"Because what you did, was heroic. You said yes to Lucifer so you could take him into the cage. You took him into your body and you fought him and you won."

"Again, not seeing a difference."

"I lost, Sam. I fought. I tried, but I lost. You can't understand because it was different for you."

Sam stared out of the window for a while, misery hanging around him like the smell of a week-old burrito. Dean wanted to say something, but he had nothing.

When the dead air between them became unbearable, he said, "What's the point of talking about it?"

"What's the point of not talking?" said Sam.

"You're not my therapist."

Sam barked a short, dismissive laugh.

"I mean it, Sammy. Not your job. Not your area."

"Because I don't understand? Even though I've known you my whole life? What, you think I can't list all the stuff you're going through? Shame, guilt, humiliation, fear that the real you is really gone this time, that the rift with Cas will never go away? That this time, you'll drive him away for good? And not just him, huh, Dean? You think if you tell me the truth, I'll despise you or worse, pity you."

"He said, pityingly."

"Bullcrap. I never pitied you in my life, Dean, not honestly. Let me tell you a secret that'll have you pitying me. The pedestal I've had you on since I was four years old? If you took off and nuked the damn thing from orbit, it wouldn't make a dent in it. There is nothing you can do or say or be that will ever make you less than superhuman in my eyes."

"I never felt less superhuman in my life." said Dean.

"You just can't do it, can you? You can't trust me." Sam looked into his eyes, his own eyes glittering with sudden tears that he was trying hard not to shed.

When Dean answered, he could barely force the words out. "This thing is breaking me, Sam and I can and I will get over it, but for now, all I can do is refuse to weigh you down with something you can't do anything about."

"I look nine to you?" said Sam.

"Nine feet, maybe." said Dean, trying to lighten the mood.

"I don't want your damn protection, Dean. I want your trust. I want the truth."