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xxx

"Lucifer has risen again."

"Excuse me, what?" Dean asked Cas, his face clearly showing the shock and confusion he felt. Before he could get a response from the angel, he turned to Sam and angrily spat out, "Again!? You let Lucifer out, again?! This is why you don't make stupid plans and keep them hidden from me! Every time, Sam, every time you decide to be sneaky behind my back, it blows up in your face! In all of our faces! When will you learn?"

Sam stood in silence, his face pale and chest tight. He struggled to breathe, Dean's furious words echoing sentiments that he'd already connected in his mind. Lucifer was out of his cage, again, and once again the blame solely rested on his shoulders. Was he destined to continuously destroy the world?

"Are you even listening to me?" Dean shouted, his fists clenched angrily. When he didn't get a response, he turned and slammed his fist into the wall with a string of expletives, "Damn it! What the hell are we supposed to do now?"

"This is unprecedented." Cas said solemnly, ignoring Dean's fury and Sam's stoicism and presenting the facts, "The world wasn't due for another apocalypse. We need to get the bunker warded against angels. It will stop me from entering, but it will also keep you two safe from Michael and Lucifer."

"Keep us safe...son of a bitch! They're going to be hunting us down as vessels again, aren't they?" Dean questioned, then turned to his brother and punched him hard across his cheek, "Damn it, Sam! Why couldn't you have just left things alone? I told you that book was dangerous!"

Sam reeled from the hit, bringing a shaky hand to his face and wiping the resulting blood onto his sleeve. He was still trying to wrap his mind fully around the situation. Lucifer was going to start visiting him again, probably in his dreams like last time. The world was doomed to end, again. There was going to have to be another battle, they were going to have to use the rings to open the cage, he and his brother were going to have to sacrifice themselves, again, and he may lose Dean, again. His throat felt dry and he chest tightened even further as flashes of the first apocalypse flashed through his mind; the mistrust, the anger, the guilt and betrayal. He couldn't live through that again; he barely wanted to live through it the first time. He opened his mouth to respond to his brother, but was able to get his voice to work. What could he possibly say anyway? They were all aware that he complete screwed up again, even though his heart had been in the right place. He was pretty sure at this point, his tombstone would read "The Road to Hell was Paved With Good Intentions".

"Damn straight we're going to need to ward the bunker, we're not letting those assholes anywhere near here!" Dean ranted, rubbing his face with his hand as he paced the room, trying to formulate a game plan, "Are we sure they're going to come for us again, after last time?"

"It's your bloodline, Dean. You two are the last remaining ones, it has to be you." Cas said quietly, then turned to Sam when the younger man made a strangled sound, swaying slightly and reaching out to grab ahold of the wall behind him, "Sam? You don't appear well."

Sam felt the world tilt on it's axis at Cas's statement. Bloodlines, that's what this was about. This is why. When Sam used his own blood for the spell, the reason it worked was because it was washing the sins of their bloodline away to remove the damnation and curse. He had assumed it was fine, because they were the last two remaining Winchesters and Campbells, to their knowledge. But he had never considered heaven or hell in the equation, he had completely forgotten the details surrounding the predetermination for he and Dean to be the vessels for Michael and Lucifer; he had let it slip from memory that they were linked through their bloodline. Not only had he let Lucifer out, he had absolved him from his sin that was tying him to the cage in the first place. He struggled to inhale, lightheaded to the point where he wasn't sure if he was still upright, the voices of the other two men in the room muffled and distant, impossible to focus on. How had he overlooked this possibility? Flashes of hallucinations, mayhem, torture and pain flashed through his mind in dizzying speeds, causing his breath to catch in his throat. What had he done?

"Sam?" Dean asked, finally stopping his ranting enough to focus on his younger brother and not liking what he saw. Sam's face had gone deathly pale and he was shaking ever so slightly. The most concerning part, however, was the fact that Sam seemed to be struggling to breathe and looked to be on the verge of passing out. He shook Sam gently by the shoulders, "Sam? Are you hearing me?" He glanced towards Cas for a split second before he reached over and pulled Sam into an embrace, squeezing him gently in hopes that Sam would return to awareness without more intervention.

"Is he alright?"

"I think he's having an anxiety attack." Dean replied, gently pulling Sam to the bed and sitting him down on the edge, putting his own anger on pause, "Sammy, you need to breathe." He put Sam's hand on his chest, adding, "Just try to match how I'm breathing, you're going to be fine."

After several moments, Sam inhaled sharply then exhaled as a sob, covering his face and rocking himself back and forth for a few moments, trying to compose himself. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know, I'm so sorry."

"This is what happens when you keep secrets, Sam." Dean said harshly, his brother's apologies reigniting his fury, "Who were you working with this time? Another demon?"

Sam shook his head, though he refused to meet his brother's gaze as he muttered, "Rowena."

"Rowena?! That bitch?! She's worse than Ruby ever was!"

"I never would have been able to crack the code on the book without her help." Sam insisted defensively, "There was no demon blood, nothing dangerous-"

"Except for the fact that she was out to kill me, is the least trustworthy person in the universe, and, oh yeah, she helped you set Lucifer free!" Dean shouted, "How can you say that's not dangerous? The only thing more dangerous than working with Rowena would have been working with Lucifer himself!"

"That's not what I meant-"

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean shouted, turning away from his brother and trying to get a grip on his anger. He didn't want to fight with Sam, he and his brother had been getting along a lot better lately and Sam had thought he was doing the right thing. But trusting Rowena? Sneaking around? How could he not be mad when Sam was falling right back into the same traps that ruined their lives last time? They still hadn't fully recovered from the first time Lucifer was set free, and now Sam had done it again? Even if it was inadvertent, it was hard to forgive and forget. The last time Lucifer was set free, he had lost his brother, then wound up with soulless asshole who was walking around in his brother's skin. Then there was Sam with his soul back who was so messed up by his experiences in the cage that he was ten shades of crazy and had to be institutionalized. The two of them were practically poster children for PTSD with the experiences they'd been through, another round of 'Trap Lucifer in his Cage' might be the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. They still had no way to kill him, no weapon powerful enough. They were completely and utterly screwed.

Sam looked away, shame and guilt oozing from his pores. There was nothing he could do or say to make this better, he knew that already, but he really had no idea that this could happen. He knew Dean would be mad about the book, about Rowena, about the secrets...and they may have been able to move past that, but there was no way Dean would forgive him for letting Lucifer run free again; he wasn't even entirely sure Dean had forgiven him the first time. His voice shaky, he quietly spoke, "I can't take it back, all I can do is tell you that if I had any idea that something like this would happen, I would have done things differently."

"Story of your life, isn't it Sam?" Dean asked sarcastically, his anger towards Sam starting to deflate at his brother's obvious distress though he was still angry with the situation in general. He was glad that the Mark was gone, it felt like his could finally think clearly for the first time in well over a year, but the cost had been so incredibly high. He couldn't even blame Sam for keeping his project a secret; he had kept the Gadreel possession a secret from Sam, even though the circumstances were a bit different. And he was certainly relieved there was no longer the threat of making good on Cain's statement that he was going to eventually kill everyone he had left, that was a definite check in the 'pros' column. But working with Rowena? Someone who they knew was untrustworthy, a witch, Crowley's freaking mother? It was a hard pill to swallow, especially since Sam had already been taught this lesson and apparently had forgotten and needed to be reminded. At the expense of all of humanity.

Sam's eyes were watery, but he refused to let the tears fall. He deserved this, he knew he screwed up royally and there was no going back from this point. All of a sudden, he felt like he had travelled back in time five years, where he felt just as guilty and overwhelmed, like he had made a series of bad choices that were blowing up in his face. Dean was looking at him with the same betrayed expression, full of regret and bitterness. Cas was watching the exchange with an impassive look, and Sam shuddered to think that Cas would turn on him and stop treating him like a friend and more like the abomination that he apparently still was, on some level. He waited for Dean to continue to rant, not having anything to say that would make a difference at this point.

"What do you know, Cas?" Dean asked after a few moments of standing in silence, trying to formulate a plan now that his initial burst of anger had been relinquished, the rest holding steady just beneath the surface for now. "Has he found a temporary vessel? Is he looking for us? What about Michael?"

"The constraints which held Lucifer also held Michael, they were both granted freedom from the cage. From the information I have heard, Michael is in New York, where he is attempting to procure a temporary vessel. Lucifer is in Detroit and has managed to procure the same vessel he was using before Sam let him in." Cas answered, then looked from one brother to the other, "We will heavily ward the bunker until we find something that can stop them."

"There has to be something in one of these books." Dean added, glancing in Sam's direction, "Why don't you start researching Sam? This it all on you; you need to be the one busting your balls to find a resolution."

Sam nodded, standing and moving towards the door. He paused, wanting to say something that would make this better but was unable to find anything that would make a difference. As his brother disappeared down the hall, Dean was aware of Cas telling him he was going to start on the warding. Dean didn't respond, his mind caught up in a memory that chilled him to the very core.

"You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you. And I won't stop."

"I know you won't. I know you won't say yes to Michael, either. And I know you won't kill Sam. Whatever you do, you will always end up here. Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up here. I win, so, I win."

"You're wrong."

"See you in five years, Dean."

Five years...the deadline had been missed by a few months, but it was close enough to send a chill down Dean's spine. He pictured his brother, dressed in white with that peaceful 'not Sam' look on his face as he snapped Dean's neck with little care or effort. We will always end up here. See you in five years. Dean's stomach clenched as a wave of nausea assaulted him, sending him bolting to the trash can in the corner just as his dinner made a reappearance. He was glad no one was here to see him in this moment of weakness, though he longed to talk about this with his brother, or even with Cas, just to question if this was really a coincidence at all. If they were destined to meet again in five years, could he really blame Sam for being the catalyst? It had been 5 years and 7 months since the douchebag Zachariah had shown him a glimpse of the future, with Lucifer wearing his brother and the Croatoan virus running rampant across the world. In the grand scheme of things, it was technically still in the 5 year range.

That cocky bastard had been right after all. Their choices, their plans had all been for nothing. He'd put up with over a year of his brother out of his life, Sam had put up with over a year of torture, longer in hell-years, in hell and it was all for nothing. They had wasted a year doing the trials, another by fighting because of the angel possession he allowed to happen. They'd spent this entire year looking for a way to get rid of the mark, and in the end, they were brought right back where they started. How was that for irony?

Dean ran a hand over his face tiredly, wanting nothing more than to go to sleep and wake to find this had been a dream, but he knew they were never that lucky. Instead, he trudged towards the library to give Sam a hand with research. The Men of Letters were the geekiest geeks around; they had more books than most libraries. Even a bibliophile as dedicated as Sam needed help when it came to scouring the information contained within the walls of the bunker, especially when there was no indication on where to begin looking.

The minute he got to the library, though, he knew something was wrong. There were no books strewn around the table, no smell of coffee brewing in the kitchen, no tell-tale sign of sniffling or sighing that he would have wagered money would be coming from his brother after the cards they'd just been dealt. The air was heavy and silent, Sam was nowhere to be seen. Dean was about to go search further when he spotted the paper laying under Sam's favorite coffee mug, the well-used cup serving as a paperweight.

Dean,

I know I've really screwed things up this time, but I swear I'm going to make it right. Stay with Cas, inside of the protection of the bunker, and try not to worry. I'm just doing what needs to be done. If I never see you again, please promise me that you won't blame yourself and you won't try to bring me back. You once said that what's dead should stay dead, and I'm more than ready to go gently into that good night. I've fought a good fight and have taken out tons of evil sons of bitches. I've caused a lot of chaos and heartbreak of my own, though, and if this is something that can prevent more innocent lives from being taken, I'm more than happy to lay down my own for them. I'm not suicidal, but I'm also not scared to die.

Take care of yourself and don't do anything stupid.

Sam

Dean clenched the paper so hard that it tore, furious at Sam for taking off without saying anything, for leaving his goodbye speech in a note, for going to Detroit; where Sam was, without a doubt, heading to try and take on Lucifer, again. At the same time, though, he felt an insurmountable amount of guilt for his initial reaction to the newest Lucifer problem. If he had known Sam was going to go to extremes (then again, he should have known because this wasn't exactly a new personality trait) he would have chosen his words a bit more carefully and not let the kid out of his sight.

"I was ready to die, Dean!"
"I was willing to die."
"What is the upside of me being alive?"
"I was ready to die, I was ready. I should have died. But you, you didn't want to be alone."

Whether Sam thought his mental state classified as suicidal or not, Dean was pretty sure that his little brother was walking straight towards the barrell of the proverbial gun. Co-dependence be damned, there was no way Dean was going to let his brother do anything that might get him killed. He had to catch up to Sam, and he had to act quickly. They'd been down this road before, and the last time the consequences had been lengthy and far-reaching. He had no desire to relive any of those years over again; life without Sam had been gut-wrenching and more painful than he cared to remember, not to mention Sam returning without his soul and then crazy from Lucifer hallucinations. A repeat of those events were not an option, he had to intervene.

Note still clenched tightly in his hands, he tore through the bunker, yelling for Cas. They needed to find, and stop, Sam before the damage done was irreparable.

xxx

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