'Til Death

Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own 'em and I'm still poor.

A/N: So we make it to the end of another Winchester tale. I hope you enjoyed this; it was kind of fun to have Sammy go so dark. Huh, maybe fun isn't the right word… I'll work on that. Thanks to all who have read; I appreciate your feedback. Thanks, too, to Kelli for her excellent typo-hunting skills.

oooOOOooo

To survive it is often necessary to fight and to fight you have to dirty yourself - George Orwell

oooOOOooo

Dean didn't know whether to be angry with Sam, or to feel pity for him. He knew that Jessica's death was beyond anything the young man had had to handle in his short life, despite the world in which they were raised. Sam was only six months old when Mary died; he didn't remember her to miss her. He killed, or helped kill, all manner of supernatural being, but he never lost anyone close to him. John and Dean were all the family he knew; Dean was the only real friend he had. Losing Jessica would have hurt no matter how it happened, but seeing her pinned to the ceiling over their bed and watching her burst into flames – Dean had nothing to compare that to.

But one of the cardinal rules of what they did was that they didn't use their knowledge or weapons against human beings. What Awena had done was wrong and twisted, but the Winchesters didn't kill people. And for Sam, of all of them, to have broken that rule was unfathomable to Dean.

He was standing in front of the window, watching the parking lot, when Sam pulled in a few minutes later. He saw the easy gait of his brother's walk and couldn't believe what he'd done would have no adverse affect on him. He turned toward the door when it opened.

"Ready?" Sam asked.

"I think we need to talk about this."

"Talk about what?"

"For starters, since when do you want to hang out in bars?"

"That's how you like to unwind and celebrate after finishing a job."

"Is that what we did? Finish a job?"

"You found out what Awena was up to. What else is there to do?"

"Where is it, Sam?" Dean asked, using his best big brother voice.

Sam looked at him blankly.

"Come on, man. You know what I'm talking about."

Sam pulled the pendant from his pocket and threw it onto the table.

"How could you do it, Sam? You know the rules."

"Dad's rules?" Sam laughed. "Dad's not here."

"But I am."

"You're not Dad."

"No, I'm not. But Dad always left me in charge –"

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dean. You're not in charge."

Not wanting to push his brother away, Dean decided to change his tactic.

"Yeah," he sighed. "You're right. But I still want you to talk to me about this. Sam, what you did –"

Sam looked his brother in the eye. "Awena killed herself. What she had been doing probably finally caught up with her. She was evil, Dean. The world is better off without her."

Dean looked at him.

"Come on, Dean. Let's get out of here and have a couple of beers and tomorrow we can get the hell out of town."

Sam's expression changed from defiant to pleading and that was something Dean could never ignore. When Sam looked at him that way, there was nothing Dean could deny him. He sighed again and nodded.

"All right. Let's get out of here for a little while."

oooOOOooo

Sam was too young to hang out in bars before he left for Stanford and since the brothers reunited, he spent most of his time watching Dean have fun. While Dean shot pool, played darts or flirted with girls, Sam would sit in a corner nursing a beer and either working on the laptop or going through their father's journal. Tonight, after a brief hesitation, he joined Dean is darts and pool. The older brother was a little surprised at his skill considering Sam's aversion to bars.

"Where'd you learn to play?" Dean asked after Sam nearly beat him at a game of darts.

Sam grinned. "There's a lot you don't know about your little brother."

Dean looked at him suspiciously. He would have expected Sam to have some sort of negative reaction to his forcing Awena to kill herself, but his exuberance came as quite a surprise.

"I'm hungry. Burgers?"

"You teased me with nachos, man."

"Yeah, whatever." Sam grinned. "Come on."

Dean hesitated and then followed his brother to an empty table. Sam had already ordered another round of drinks and was looking at the menu when Dean sat across from him.

"Seriously, Sam, where did you learn to play darts? You never seem interested in stuff like that."

He shrugged. "Sometimes Jessica would talk me into hanging out with her friends at a bar near campus. And her folks had a billiard table in their house."

"Did you spend a lot of time there?" Dean asked when the waitress came with their drinks. He hadn't been expecting the shots of Tequila along with the beer.

"They live in San Francisco, so we were there often enough."

"And you'd hang out with her friends at the bar?"

Sam stared into the shot glass. "I had friends, but we preferred the coffee house." He took a deep breath and then held up the glass. "To Mom and Jessica."

Dean tapped his glass against Sam's and they downed the tequila. The waitress came back a moment later to take their food order and Sam ordered two more shots. Dean knew how many he could handle, but had no idea about Sam. Normally after a couple of beers, the younger brother was done for the night, but by Dean's count, he'd already had four shots and three beers. He had a feeling it was going to be a rough night for his brother.

Despite Dean's urging, Sam didn't eat much of the burger he ordered and hardly touched the fries. He finished two more beers and another shot before Dean convinced him to go back to the room. As Sam slid from the bar stool, he had to hold onto the table to keep from falling.

"Come on, big guy." Dean said, leading him to the door. He carefully helped Sam into the car, then slid behind the wheel. He wasn't used to being the designated driver; that honor normally belonged to Sam.

The younger brother leaned against the passenger side door and Dean watched him from the corner of his eye.

"If you're gonna hurl –"

Sam sat up and laughed. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." Dean pulled into a spot in front of their room. "Home sweet home, kiddo."

Sam opened the door and fell out of the car. He rolled onto his back, laughing. Dean rolled his eyes and held out his hand. "Come on, Sam."

Still laughing, Sam grabbed his brother's hand and let Dean pull him into a standing position. Sam put his hand around Dean's shoulder. "You can call me Sammy, big brother."

"Thanks." Dean said, struggling with his much taller brother. He leaned Sam against the building and pulled the door key from his pocket. Sam stumbled into the room, laughing again, and flopped onto the bed.

Dean took a couple aspirin from the first aid kit and handed them to Sam with a bottle of water.

"Sit up, Sam. You need to swallow those."

"Thanks." Sam said, smiling. "You're a good brother, Dean."

"Yeah, I know I am." Dean slipped Sam's coat off and when his brother fell back, Dean pulled off his shoes. "You want to get under the covers?"

"Nope. Room's spinning." Sam grinned.

Dean grabbed the trash can and put it next to the bed. "Use that if you're gonna throw up."

Sam saluted. "Will do."

He looked at his brother and started laughing again. Dean had just turned his back and slipped out of his coat when he heard Sam's laughter turn to sobs.

"Sam?" Dean stood uncomfortably next to the bed.

"She's dead and she's never coming back. She was sexy and smart; she was normal and extraordinary at the same time. And that thing took her away from me." Sam stared at the ceiling. "She was on the ceiling and then she was on fire. Her – her blood – her blood fell onto my face–"

Dean stopped listening to his brain and started to follow his instincts. He sat on the bed next to his brother, and when Sam turned away, Dean pulled him back.

"I know, Sam. I'm sorry. If there was something I could do to change that –"

"No one can change it. Awena wanted me to believe she could, but –" Sam's eyes widened and he looked at Dean. "Oh my God – I killed her."

"Sam –"

The younger Winchester pulled away from Dean and got out of bed. A moment later he was stumbling his way to the bathroom and Dean could hear him throwing up. He leaned over and rubbed his face, then moved to help his brother. Sam was on the floor, leaning against the wall, his arms wrapped around his legs. Dean ran a wash cloth under the faucet and cleaned his brother's face as he sat next to him. Sam leaned against Dean and felt his arm around his shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry."

"It's gonna be okay, Sam. I promise, it's gonna be okay."

Dean managed to get Sam back into bed and the younger man immediately fell asleep. Dean sat next to him, keeping a hand on his head. He had no idea how to make this better for Sam. He knew he really couldn't fix anything, but he had to point Sam in the right direction so he could get passed it.

As tough as John Winchester was, he was the only one who could possibly understand what Jessica's death had meant to Sam and, not for the first time, Dean wished their father was with them.

"I promise you'll get through this." Dean whispered, caressing his brother's hair. "We'll get through this."

Dean sat with his younger brother until he couldn't stay awake any more. He lay on top of the covers of his own bed and, though he was asleep almost immediately, he was awake when he heard Sam shuffle into the bathroom a couple of hours later.

Sam splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth and even though he used mouthwash, he knew the cotton mouth would be around for a while. He put his hands on the counter and leaned forward, but he wouldn't look at his reflection in the mirror. He was nauseated and he already had a headache, but the drinking wasn't what he was ashamed of.

Dean was right; he knew the rules. And they weren't just John Winchester's rules. There was already a system in place for dealing with humans and, no matter how evil, they were left to the authorities. There were too few people who knew how to deal with the supernatural creatures they hunted to split their time by going after people, too.

It didn't happen often, but right now Sam wished he was a little boy again. When he was a kid, Dean could always make things better. The crappy rooms and apartments they lived in always seemed a little better when his big brother was around. Dean played games with him and watched television with him; anything to make life a little more bearable for the younger brother. Sam wished Dean could make things better for him now.

Dean was sitting up in bed when Sam finally mustered the courage to leave the bathroom. Sam couldn't look at him, but sat on the edge of the bed Dean occupied.

"Can I get you anything?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shook his head. They sat quietly for several minutes.

"What have I done, Dean?" he whispered.

Dean moved carefully until he was sitting next to his brother.

"I killed her. A human being. It's my fault that she's dead."

"Yeah." Dean said matching Sam's somber tone. "I – I don't know what to say to you, Sam."

Sam smirked. "You're not going to yell at me?"

"That wouldn't do any good." Dean said. "And there's nothing I can say to you that will make you feel any worse than you feel right now."

"You know," Sam clasped his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. "When we were kids, I thought you could do anything. Like Superman or something. I guess most kids feel that way about their fathers, but for me, you were the superhero."

"Sam –"

"You can't fix this, can you?" Sam asked, his voice shaking.

"No. I'm sorry, Sammy, but I can't fix this."

Sam nodded, looking straight ahead.

Dean rarely talked about himself or his feelings, but he encouraged Sam to talk. Ever since Jessica was killed, Dean made himself more available to his brother. They spent a lot of time in the car together, driving from place to place, and sometimes Dean was able to maneuver Sam into talking before the younger brother realized what was going on. He subtly took care of things that Sam didn't think about for himself. Dean decided when it was time to stop for food, he made sure they had necessities, he took care of their finances, and anything else he could to make things easier for Sam.

"I still think the world is better off without Awena." Sam said. "But I shouldn't have done it. Where is the pendant now?"

"In a safe place. I thought you would want to be around when I melted it. Or maybe you could do it."

Sam nodded.

"You know what?" Dean began after a few minutes of silence. "We're gonna get through this. I can't tell you that it's going to be easy, but we'll get past it."

"We?"

"I told you before, we're a team."

"You don't want to kick me to the curb for what I did?"

"Sammy, there is nothing you could do that would make me kick you to the curb."

"Dad –"

"You said it yourself; I'm not Dad. But our father is a subject for some other night."

There was another silence.

"You want to know something else?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"I was thinking about doing the same thing." he said quietly. "To Awena, I mean."

"No you weren't." Sam disagreed.

"She hurt you." Dean shrugged. "No one gets to do that when I'm around."

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm gonna throw up again."

Dean moved his legs so Sam could get past him as he ran to the bathroom.

oooOOOooo

The Winchesters slept late the next morning. Sam wasn't feeling very well when he woke up, but he didn't feel as bad as he expected he would. He wasn't up to breakfast, but he did manage to keep some coffee down. Dean packed their things and loaded them into the car; Sam joined him a few minutes later.

"You ready?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

"Get in the car and I'll do a last check of the room."

Before going back outside, Dean called the sheriff's office to let him know they were leaving town.

"We never got a chance to talk." the sheriff began. "About those things you've seen, I mean. But other weird stuff happens around this county and it might be up your alley."

"Maybe Sam and I can come back, but right now, I need to get him out of here. Awena did a number on him and – I just need to concentrate on him right now."

"I understand. Just, uh, keep it in mind okay?"

Dean was intrigued, but he really wanted to get Sam as far away as he could. He was thinking it might even be a good idea to take some time off before they found another job.

Sam was leaning against the passenger side door, dark sunglasses keeping out the worst of the glare. Dean hoped he would be able to get some more sleep.

They stopped at a rest area later. The Impala was the only car in the parking lot and they took advantage of the privacy to get rid of the pendant. It took a lot of heat to melt gold and Dean was glad to find out the pendant was made out of something that only looked gold. Sam chose to supervise the operation, which surprised Dean, but he followed Sam's wishes.

oooOOOooo

A few weeks later, the brothers were staying in another cheap motel room. Dean handled some simple jobs along the way, but neither had been interested in taking on anything big.

Sam refused to talk about Awena, though sometimes he had nightmares about her. He did, however, start to open up about Jessica. He freely talked to Dean about how they met, the things they did together and some of the plans they'd started to make. Hearing these things hurt Dean, but also made him happy because they made Sam happy. Dean suspected that Sam wasn't telling him everything, and he was right.

Sam still believed that Awena saw something evil inside of him, but that was one of the things he kept to himself. He still felt guilt over Jessica's death, and even over the death of his mother. He kept those things from his brother, too.

oooOOOooo

They were watching television in their room one night when Dean's cell phone rang. He reached for it absently and glanced at the caller ID display, then sat up straight.

"What?" Sam asked from his bed.

"Dad. He sent coordinates."

"Time to get back to work." Sam said.

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and moved to the desk across the room and pulled the computer from its case.

"It's time."

Fin