V.
It takes many more years for Sam to finally get the chance to repay Dean and when the time comes, he wishes it hadn't.
Time passes by, not in a quick and nostalgic way, but in an agonizingly slow and painful way that makes Sam amazed that they ever survived. Dean dies and Sam's world becomes an existence driven by revenge and an insatiable thirst for blood. Then Dean's back and Sam's life is a struggle between his new methods and his broken brother. He gets lost and then he's found again and he falls down to a place where Dean can't rescue him from. But, once again he defies all odds and lives once more by his brother's side. They fight amongst themselves almost as much as they fight monsters but there's a level of trust and care that Sam's grateful for. They gain allies and friends almost as often as they gain enemies but Sam is just happy they still have each other.
Their experiences never cease to amaze Sam. Sure, there's a certain amount of familiarity and expertise that comes from how long they've been hunting, but there are always things that manage to catch them off guard. Even if it feels like they've been doing the same things over and over again, there are always cases that are just unique enough to catch the two brothers off guard.
Sometimes, Sam can't help but worry about what's to come in their futures. They've already been through both heaven and hell, literally, and Sam wonders if there is an end to the madness that is their lives, if there's a light at the end of a tunnel that seems to go on forever. Dean's always been cynical about this subject, insisting that there's no way out, no way to escape to a normal life. Sam has always remained more hopeful, has always thought that maybe, just maybe, they could one day retire and live out the rest of their days in peace. Maybe, they could learn to leave behind their crazy adventures and let someone else carry the weight of the world for once.
They've had a slow week, no monsters to track down, no impending end-of-the-world disaster to fix. Instead, the brothers have spent the last few days driving around the countryside, watching the land fly by as Dean blasts music out the open windows. With the way they live their lives, a day, especially a week, where they catch a break is extremely rare. Sam is willing to bet that it's been years since they've had thing long between jobs. Sam feels content, he feels satisfied to know that even after everything they have seen and done, they can still get a few moments of peace. Even the restless Dean has settled into this new calm that they are experiencing. Sam's happy to say that the tension in his brother's shoulders has started to melt away with each mile they drive on their mini road trip.
It's at a small diner somewhere in the Midwest where all of their peace comes to an end and their way of life decides to rear its ugly head once more.
Sam's slowly working his way through a salad while Dean is decimating his burger at inhuman speeds, his attention partially occupied by the laptop open on the table. Dean's busy frowning at the screen, so Sam knows that he's going to speak up with his findings sooner or later, likely bearing news that will spoil Sam's day.
"So," Dean starts after swallowing a gigantic bite. "I think I've found us a case."
Of course. Just as they're both learning how to relax, Dean's eager to get moving again. "Really, Dean?"
Dean flashes him a look of feigned innocence and raises his arms in self-defense. "What! We've been out of work for a while now! Don't you think it's time we got back in the game?"
No, actually, that's the exact opposite of what Sam wants but he keeps his mouth sealed, frowns, and lets out a sigh. "What's the rush? We've been fine not working any cases."
"C'mon, Sam." Dean complains. His plate is now pushed off to the side, the laptop now the centerpiece of the table. "I'm getting restless, man. I need to be out there."
Often, Sam wishes their lives weren't like this. He wishes they weren't raised to forget about their own well-beings for the sake of others. It's just not fair that they are the ones who have to throw their lives away, that they're the ones who have been programmed to hunt and save lives, altered to the point that they even depend on their way of life to keep them sane, to keep them moving. Sure, Sam's come to accept it over the years, hell, he's sometimes even managed to embrace it. But still, there are always moment when Sam longs for something else, longs for a life where they don't have to sacrifice so much to survive.
"Fine," Sam finally concedes. "Whatcha got?"
Dean smirks at him smugly before he spins the laptop around to face Sam. A few tabs are pulled up, all of them online articles. "Over the past month, there have been three suicides. All of them have been completely unsuspecting teenagers who've jumped off the top of an old tower just outside of the town."
Sam frowns. "Possession?"
Dean shrugs. "Could be. Could also be nothing, but it's worth checking out."
Sam drags a heavy hand down his face. "Yeah, let's go."
His brother grins at him, slamming the laptop shut. He tosses a couple of bills on the tables and slides out of his side of the booth. Sam follows him outside to the Impala, rolling his eyes when Dean winks at their waitress.
The drive is only a couple of hours long, but Sam's okay with spending it without speaking. He takes this opportunity to get lost in thought. Yet another case that drives them to another state, to another town where they'll work their magic and leave before things get out of hand. Dean's admitted to being tired of the job before, often in broken ways that pick at Sam's conscience. Sam doesn't know if Dean still feels that way about the job but it still troubles him that Dean is willing to keep pushing and pushing until he's close to breaking. Sam can only hope he can help slow the process. This job has taken so much from them, yet they're always ready to keep performing, no matter the cost.
Dean blasts music from the stereo and taps his thumbs against the wheel to the beat. Eventually, Sam pulls out the laptop and browses though the files Dean had saved on the case. As far as Sam can tell, they're either dealing with some form of possession, a vengeful spirit of some kind, or a crazy combination of both. Any way it goes, there's an uneasy churning in his gut, an unsteady instinct begging him to get the hell out of there. Sam can't help but feel nervous about this job.
Despite his gut feeling telling him to run in the opposite direction, Sam can't help but feel content as they drive to this case. Even though Sam still maintains a steady dislike for their line of work, it's these quiet moments with his brother that remind him of why he does it. He will always cherish his brother's company, even if it's company spent hunting monsters. With them having each other's backs, Sam can honestly say he's glad and willing to save lives with his brother at his side.
Soon, they're checking into a small motel on the edge of town, only a few miles away from the ominous tower.
They spend the next few days collecting the information they need. They interview the families of the victims under the guises of guidance counselors and learn about the lovely lives all of the teenagers had lived. The police claim there was no connection between the three, but the heartbroken younger sister of the most recent victim claims they all went to the tower on dares from a group of friends at school.
Before they finish up their research, Sam and Dean make a short trip to the tower to scope out their surroundings. It's at least 150 feet tall, made of old stones that peak at a slanted roof. At the bottom, the brothers find a gruesome patch of red in the grass where all three of the victims' heads had gone splat. Authorities had tried to wash away all of the blood and gore, but a stain is still left behind that makes Sam wrinkle his nose and avoid looking at it at all costs.
In order to get to the top, the kids had climbed stairs inside of the tower, reached a room at the top, and had then climbed out of an old window. Sam and Dean check the old room out. It's clearly been abandoned for years, with dust covering a chewed-up mattress, torn papers everywhere, and a few paintings leaning against the walls.
That night they finish up their theories in the motel room. They confirm the fact that they're hunting the spirit of the original tower owner's son. As a teenager, his father had pushed him out of the window and made his death look like suicide. In his afterlife, the son was exacting his revenge by doing the same to anyone who wandered into the tower. Unfortunately, the teenager's body had been cremated so Sam's hoping they can find something the spirit's attached to in the tower.
The uneasiness returns to Sam's stomach as they're loading up the car. He wishes he could shake it off but it's a little frightening how persistent this gut feeling is turning out to be. It's been many years since Sam's had any visions, but he's definitely learned to trust his instinct since then. As an attempt to calm his nerves, Sam brings up the subject with Dean.
"Dean," He starts off. He'd loaded their sawed offs with rock salt back in the room and is now putting them in the trunk. "Are you sure we should do this?"
Dean, who's tossing their duffle bags in the back, pauses to give Sam an incredulous look. "Seriously, Sam? This'll be fine, Sammy, we've definitely handled worse."
Sam bites his lip to keep from responding. The churning in his gut is still there, but Sam pushes it to the back of his mind where it turns and boils. He gets in the passenger side without saying another word, Dean soon joining him in the car and driving them off to the tower.
When they make it to the grassy base, there's already a small truck parked there. Up at the top, Sam can make out a lantern's dim glow inside of the cracked window.
Dean frowns as he turns off the car. "Well, that's not good."
Sam snorts and nods in agreement. He and Dean get out, fetch their things from the trunk, and quickly make their way to the start of the stairs.
It's cold and quiet in the tower, eerily reminding Sam of a tomb. It's so dark in there that Sam's sure he would have tripped already if not for their flashlights. He can't hear anything except their footsteps, Dean's heavy breathing, and the occasional shriek of laughter that comes from the top room.
The stillness of the tower is suddenly broken when a sharp scream erupts from the top. Sam barely has the time to glance at Dean before they're both sprinting to the top, crumbling steps and darkness be damned.
The light Sam had seen from the bottom is coming from an LED lantern sitting on the floor next to the ruined mattress. Two guys stand at the opposite end of the room, clutching each other for dear life as they shake and shiver with fear. Approaching them slowly across the dusty floor is their spirit of the hour. Covered in dirt, clothes tattered, and a bloody head wound, the mere sight of the bloody spirit is enough to encourage the return of his apprehension and he wants to run away and drag Dean with him. But there are two idiot teenagers there who need help so Sam can't waste any more time lingering over his fears.
Dean jumps in immediately, making the spirit disappear with a blast of rock salt. As he starts to search the room for the item they need to burn, Sam directs the two teens to the door and tells them to get the hell out of there. They don't need to be told twice and they're sprinting down the stairs at the speed of light as soon as the words are out of his mouth.
Sam helps Dean turn the room inside out, the spirit momentarily gone. They're working on flipping the mattress when Dean yells at Sam. He spins around and the spirit is there, face furious and hands outstretched toward Sam. Quickly, Sam fires off a shot right in the spirit's face.
They finish with the mattress fairly quickly so Dean moves to the small expanse of floor behind it while Sam shuffles through the papers by the window. He uncovers a tarnished silver locket and grins because if this isn't it, Sam is willing to just burn down the whole tower.
"Sammy! Look out!"
Sam turns, his grin sliding away as he sees the spirit approaching him, much faster this time with his arms raised and poised to kill. There's no way Sam can get out of the way in time so he gulps and braces himself for impact.
But, as always, Sam has failed to plan for that random factor that is his brother. That on factor that never fails to swoop in and carry Sam away. That one factor that saw danger before Sam was even aware. That one factor that is willing to do whatever it takes to save his little brother, no matter the cost.
Many times over the years, Sam has wondered if Dean even has a self-preservation instinct. Time and time again, his brother has proven that he has little regard for his well-being, especially when Sam happens to be involved. His determination to keep his younger brother alive has already led to horrible consequences, but Sam has always wondered when those consequences would become irreversible.
A tremendous force knocks Sam to the side, knocking the wind out of him and shoving him out of harm's way. Now that Sam's horizontal and his chest hurts from the push, Sam can't see where the spirit ended up. But, he does look up in time to see the spirit making contact with Dean, throwing him right through the window.
It's a strange thing to experience, even after Sam has seen death so many times before. Time seems to slow and everything else seems to stop until it's just him, Dean, and 150 feet to the ground. He can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears and the sharp clarity of glass shattering as Dean breaks through the window.
Sam looks at Dean's face. Sam himself is quickly beginning to panic and feel the horrible grasp of fear because Dean is so far away and Sam won't be able to reach him but Dean's expression is different. He's strangely calm, this sort of chilling acceptance shining in his eyes that makes Sam tear up and sends shivers down his spine.
There are no more miracles, no more changes in fate that can stop this. Sam can't even reach his eerily calm brother in time to even brush against his ankle. In seconds, Dean is gone and Sam can only scream his name and flinch when he hears Dean thud against the ground.
Sam hurries across the room, taking out some accelerant and salt from a duffle bag they brought up and dousing the damn locket in both. It's soon on fire and the spirit is wailing but Sam doesn't even care, he's just running as fast as he can down the stone steps, trying to catch up with something he couldn't prevent.
The truck from before is gone, imprints left in the grass from when the teens made their frantic escape. Sam rounds the base of the tower, that awful feeling back in his gut.
Dean is lying on his back in the grass, his body surrounded by a halo of glass. Sam swallows thickly when he realizes Dean is lying in the red patch he'd spotted earlier. Sam finds himself praying, his head a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts as he approaches his brother.
"No no no no." Sam pleads. He comes to a stop and kneels next to Dean. He feels like his head is full of cotton and his vision is becoming blurry. He can't speak he can't breathe he can't think because this can't be real.
Dean's eyes are open, staring blankly at the dark sky. A few cuts lie across his face, remnants of the broken glass. Sam doesn't want to look at the broken limbs splayed out from his torso like some smashed doll. He doesn't want to see his unnaturally pale skin that looks as thin as paper, the surface turning a light blue with every passing second. He wants to see him blink his eyes, wants to see his chest rise and fall with precious air, wants to hear him laugh, wants him to do anything.
But he stays still and silent so Sam weeps.
Sam moves closer and cries and cries onto his brother's cold skin. Sam sobs as he cradles Dean's head and feels a sickening give at the back of his skull, the bone crushed and the sticky blood still dripping onto the grass.
Sam sniffles and cries and curses the world. He curses the universe and everything that controls it because Dean may have made mistakes, but he chose to do things with the best of intentions paving his way. Dean fought for life, fought for Sam and this isn't fair, but of course Dean would leave Sam doing what he's always done.
Minutes, hours, maybe even years pass for all Sam cares until his tears finally stop and leave his eyes so puffy that it's painful to see. The world could have exploded for all Sam cares because his world is dead and gone.
The sun rises and the tower casts an ominous shadow across the ground. Sam wishes he didn't have to move, that he could just fade away, but he can't because Dean deserves more than that.
Finally, Sam slides his arms beneath Dean's body, his hold firm and strong as he rises. Even if Dean is dead and Sam is heartbroken, he owes this to Dean for all he's done for Sam.
With heavy steps and a heavy heart, though carrying Dean feels like no burden at all, Sam repays his brother and carries him home.