I'm sorry, this is a little darker than I usually go, especially because it's meant to also be my birthday fic. But stay tuned, hope will win out! -KHK

But Sam
K Hanna Korossy

Dean has done this once before.

Castiel had made a mistake that time, too, a terrible one. Yes, with good intentions, but still a morally poor choice to harness the monster souls in Purgatory to power his defeat of Rafael. That had led to the release of the Leviathan, Castiel's brief but costly term as "God," the death of Bobby Singer, the Winchesters being hunted, and ultimately Dean's entrapment in Purgatory for a year. It was little wonder Dean had turned on him then, disavowed Castiel.

He had apologized later. Told Castiel he was still his brother, forgiven, accepted.

And now Dean had tossed him aside again. This time for a truly innocent mistake.

Mary was dead, and Castiel did consider himself partly at fault. He should have said something earlier to the brothers about his concerns about Jack, his suspicion that Jack's soul was gone. Castiel had wanted to be sure first, to perhaps even find a solution, but he could see his error now. That information might have saved Mary.

And Castiel knew his friend, knew this was less about Castiel's actions and more about Dean's grief, his need to blame someone for the loss, to lash out in order to distract from his own suffering. It was possibly even healthier than to internalize all that blame and hurt, if Castiel understood humans correctly.

The Winchesters and Jack were all the family he had, however, the ones he'd sacrificed everything for, and to be banished this way every time he made a mistake… Were not true families those who loved unconditionally?

"It's not you," Sam said as they trailed along behind Dean after Mary's funeral pyre had burned down to embers. "Dean just needs some time. He's hurting, not mad."

"I understand," Castiel said quietly. And he did. He was fairly certain Dean would eventually process his grief and forgive him.

But Sam, the true brother, remained the exception to Dean's rejection. And Castiel was human enough now to feel envious.

00000

The Lucifer his mind kept making up was right about one thing: family mattered more to the Winchesters than anything.

Jack had learned that at the very beginning. Castiel had already looked after him like a father, but Sam soon took him under his wing, and eventually Dean did, too. "You're one of us," Dean had said more than once. "You're family."

Jack had believed him. That had given him the strength and guidance to choose his adopted family over his true father, to choose to be good.

Mary had eventually become like a mom to him, too, and seeing the brothers with her made him miss his own mother more, but also appreciate what he had. The five of them were a family.

And then he killed Mary.

It was totally an accident! He had never intended that; Jack would never have wished her harm. Surely the Winchesters would see that, too. They knew him. They loved him. He'd seen it over and over: they forgave family.

But…what if one member of the family killed another?

He'd done everything for them! Killed Michael to free Dean. Killed Nick to keep him from bringing Lucifer back. Healed Sam when he was dying. That had to count for something, right?

You killed Mary Winchester. The illusion of Lucifer voiced his own thoughts. You cannot come back from that.

But Sam had unleashed horrors on the Earth that had killed hundreds, twice. To save Dean, right, yes, but still. And Dean always forgave him.

You're not Sam, "Lucifer" whispered in his ear.

Then Jack saw it, in that brief moment when the Winchesters caught up to him at the cabin, Mary's body lying at Jack's feet. There was sympathy mixed with pain in Sam's face. But in Dean's, only horror and accusation.

Not all family is equal, Jack realized with despair.

He fled.

00000

Sam had always been in awe of his brother's capacity to forgive.

Sam had left his family to go to college, which he regretted only because he knew how badly it had hurt his brother. But Dean hadn't held it against him.

I'm proud of you.

Nor when, possessed by Meg, Sam had shot Dean and nearly drowned him.

It wasn't you.

He'd been the reason Dean had gone to Hell, even if that hadn't been Sam's choice.

I would do it again.

He'd trusted in Ruby more than in Dean, and had started the Apocalypse.

Who'd have thought killing Lilith would have been a bad thing?

Believing Dean was in Heaven, Sam hadn't looked for and saved him from Purgatory.

I'm proud of us.

As he'd once told Dean, the sin he confessed foremost was how many times he'd let down his brother.

You seriously think that? Because none of it—none of it—is true!

There'd been harsh words over the years, distance, even a brief going of their own ways. But in the end, Dean always forgave him, chose Sam over his pain and anger, and came running when Sam needed him. He had never shut out Sam completely, hadn't declared his brother dead to him, or that they were only hunting partners now. Sam was always his brother, his family.

They weren't each other's only kin. When you hardly had any of your own, you tended to adopt people. They'd been lucky enough to have father figures in Bobby and Jefferson and Pastor Jim, been mothered by Ellen and Jody and Donna. Jo and Charlie had been honorary sisters, and Castiel another brother. And then they'd had a kid: Jack. Fighting at each other's side, facing foes no one else even knew existed, forged unusually tight bonds. The Winchesters had loved their extended family, and been loved. They would have died for them.

But in the end, Sam always came first for Dean. Even before their parents.

Sam would've been lying if he said it didn't feel good, that it wasn't sometimes the one thing that kept him going. There was too much tragedy and baggage and pain to carry without knowing he never carried it alone.

And now, they'd lost Mom. Again. And Dean had lashed out at Cas and was hunting Jack like he was, well, a monster. Sam had tried to shoulder some of the blame, but Dean had absolved him with a quick, You didn't know. It would be everyone else's fault, including Dean's own, but not Sam's.

Maybe it couldn't be Sam's, because Dean needed his brother as much as Sam did. Especially now that they were orphaned again.

Because the others were family, but Sam was family. Sometimes it did end with blood.

Sam poured whiskey in two glasses, and slid one over to Dean. His brother picked it up, swished it around absently. Sam raised his own glass.

"To Mom."

"To Mom," Dean finished the toast, and drank.

"And to family," Sam added more quietly.

Dean paused at that, his face shadowed and inscrutable. But he finally tipped his glass toward Sam. "To family."

Even if that meant something a lot narrower to Dean than to Sam.

The End