Author's Note:

I do a lot of one note fics – mainly because in them I'm exploring a very specific idea. I don't really have a plot or anything, and I usually don't take them any further. This one, however, begs to be different. I don't know if I'll take it all the way to the inevitable confrontation or not, but so far it's rolling along pretty well toward that end. I also rarely post any fic before it's completely done, even the long multi-chapter things so this is a new one for me. Any and all encouragement is appreciated - I'm notorious for abandoning stories before completion. I've got a 53 page post-Sam vs. Lucifer fic sitting in my harddrive that - at the risk of sounding arrogant - I think ya'll might enjoy. I just can't get to the end of it. *shrugs*

Anyway, here's some more of "Shut the Door...."

Sam killed four more demons in the weeks it took them to procure the last of the Horsemans' rings, only one of them with any real power. He thought of it as "topping off the tank." Dean never suspected a thing.

Or so he thought.

They were halfway to their rendezvous with Lucifer, the Chevy's engine rumbling along with the thunder of an approaching storm, when Sam decided he'd better come clean. Dean needed to know what he was planning. Sam could drag the devil into their trap, but he needed Dean to lock the door behind him.

Both of them had been silent throughout the drive thus far. Dean hadn't even turned on the radio, which was never a good sign. It meant he was thinking, and that made Sam nervous. Dean could be as sharp minded as Sam when he wanted to be, could have gone to college and made something of himself if circumstances had been different. If Sam hadn't already realized this long before, it was made clear when Zachariah zapped them into corporate desk jockeys, with Dean landing in upper management. The angel hadn't changed them, he'd only tweaked what was already there, and dumped Sam in as a bottom feeder just to keep him out of the way. He'd wanted to point out Dean's natural inclination toward Hunting, and opened Sam's eyes instead. In Sam's opinion Zachariah's plan backfired. Dean had excelled at his job as Dean Smith. He was happy and content with no desire to chase ghosts – until Sam entered the picture.

And that says it all.

Sam cleared his throat. It had been so quiet thus far, the sound was like an explosion, actually making Dean flinch. His eyes flashed quickly in Sam's direction. He'd been thinking, but was also concentrating driving. The rain had begun an hour ago, even through the bulk of the storm was still behind them, and the roads were just wet enough to be slippery.

"Dean...."

Dean interrupted him. "Don't."

"Don't," Sam smiled slightly. "You think this is going to be a 'last day on Earth' speech?"

"No."

The abruptness of the reply set of warning bells. Sam backtracked and proceeded with more caution. "So you just don't want to talk right now?"

"No, I just don't want you to talk. I want you to listen."

Crap. This can't be good.

"After all we've been through, all the shit we've hashed out between us lately, and you still think I'm a complete moron?" The eyes flashed again. Sam caught a glimpse of Dean's expression.

Pissed. He knows. He's known.

"I trusted you, Sam. I've given that back to you over and over again and every time you take it and screw me up the ass...."

"Dean...."

"Don't. Don't even try. I don't want to hear it. I've heard it all before." Dean's voice turned mocking. "'I'm sorry, Dean. You don't understand, Dean. I thought it was the right thing to do, Dean.' It's all crap. You will always do exactly what you want to do, and this was always going to end just like it's going to end."

"I'm not...."

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" This time the car did waver ever-so-slightly, skidding a bit on the wet pavement until Dean wrestled it and his temper back into check. "You're going to say yes, Sam. I know you are because you're just arrogant enough to think you can shove Lucifer back out of your meat."

"I killed Crowley," Sam said roughly. "I've been...."

Dean's tone was ice cold. "Tell me something I don't know." He glanced over for a third time, and Sam could see that coldness reflected in his eyes. "Bobby told me what you had up your sleeve. I tormented the snot out of Cas for the rest." After a pause, Dean shook his head sadly, his anger running out of steam. "How could you do this to me, Sam? Huh? Why work so hard at something and then just piss it down the toilet?"

Sam took the questions as rhetorical. He didn't answer them directly. "It's all I can do."

"You could have let me in on it."

"You wouldn't have liked it."

"That's not the point."

"No," Sam replied softly. "I guess it isn't."

A mile passed, and then another. When he spoke again Dean's voice was rough. The anger had fled, leaving behind only grief. "I have a chance, you know, with Michael. It's pretty damn slim, but it's better than nothing. You've got nothing, Sammy. Win or lose, between what you've done to yourself and what Lucifer's going to do to you, you're dead."

"Tell me something I don't know," Sam said wryly.

"And I'm supposed to just stand back and watch you commit suicide?"

"No, you're supposed to end the Apocalypse."

Dean snorted softly. "Right."

"I let him out. I'll put him back in. You just have to shut the door."

"Well ain't that just fuckin' peachy."

"It's Dad's ultimatum," Sam said. "Save me or kill me. I think it's obvious by now that nobody can save me, Dean. Not even you."

Sam should have known better than to bring up their father, for whom Dean's affection had turned bitter. His brother shot him a glare that indicated Dean had just gotten his stubborn up.

With narrow eyes and clenched jaw, Dean growled.

"Watch me."

"We're talking about the end of the world."

"No? Really? I did not know that. Thanks for enlightening me."

"I just.... " Sam sighed. "Something's gotta give, and this, what I'm doing, is maybe the only chance we've got. If it comes down between me and the end of the world, don't pick me, Dean. Please."

Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel. "I can't, Sammy. I can't let billions of people die, not even for you."

"So don't."

"You've set me up."

"I have."

"Sam...." It was barely a whisper, in a tone as hurt and broken as Sam had ever heard before.

"And when it's all over," Sam continued, ignoring his aggrieved brother. "Go back to Lisa. Take what you want out of life, Dean. Let someone else step up to the plate. You can't top shutting down the Apocalypse so you might as well retire."

"You're pretty damn confident we're going to win this game."

"It's a front."

"Is it?"

"I'm totally pissing my pants right now."

Dean nodded knowingly. "If you weren't I'd think there was really something wrong with you." He turned and gave Sam a careful look. "You aren't really are you?"

"What? Dude, no. I'm not pissing my pants for real."

"Good. I just had the car detailed."

Sam laughed and shook his head. "You're unbelievable."

Dean sighed. "It's a front."

"Crying in your beer?"

"Sobbing, dude." A muscle twitched in Dean's jaw. "Sobbing," he repeated, more softly this time.

And to that Sam had no reply.