"See, Lucifer is a fallen angel but even he needs consent to possess his vessel." Sam began. "I'm not planning on saying yes, ever, but knowing myself... I would probably give in sooner or later. That's what he said anyway and I believe him."

Dean expression was thunderous and Sam swallowed thickly, continuing hastily before his brother could say anything.

"So I told him I would sooner kill myself than let him inside. He had laughed and said that he wouldn't let me."

Dean felt all the blood draining from his face but Sam has now worked himself into a frenzy and he was talking faster and faster, looking at where his nails were cutting into the flesh of his palms like it was the most interesting thing ever. Anything, just to not have to look at Dean. At his anger, distrust and disgust.

"And Dean, I had to, I just had to try. But he was telling the truth, just like he promised." Dean froze completely on the bed, staring at his little brother in horror.

"I tried everything. Iron bullets, silver bullets, both knives, sleeping pills, rope, electrocution, drowning, exploding car wreck – nothing worked. So I decided to go back to hunting. Figured if nothing could kill me then I could at least help more people, you know?" Sam stopped to take a breath and accidentally raised his gaze. It fell on Dean's tightly clenched fists and lips drawn so close not a drop of blood remained and he quickly ducked it back down.

"So anyway, I was hunting again but I was still looking and then one time I just finished a Wendigo hunt."

Wendigo. Sam went alone after a Wendigo. Dean has never been closer to just falling on his knees and breaking down because here Sam was, sitting like on an electric chair, confessing to him that in order to save the world he's been trying to actively kill himself in every way imaginable for weeks now and Dean had had no idea, none at all and what if it had worked? What if Lucifer had lied?

God, now he had to be grateful to Satan for keeping his little brother alive!

Sam was still talking though.

"I don't know why I haven't thought of that earlier but Wendigo needs to be burned, right? I tried burning and I just woke up as usual without any mark."

God, that's why he looks healthy. Every time he- … Lucifer fixes his body to top shape. Dean felt nauseous. He looks just fine now, God, when was the last time he-? How many times-?

"But then it hit me. Holy oil. The only substance that can kill an angel, right? If I died in holy oil then Lucifer probably wouldn't be able touch me! So I figured that's the way I should try it now. And I called you because I think this time it may actually work... and... I needed the holy oil, I didn't have any, it's all in the Impala, right?" Coward! He had called because he wanted to hear his brother one more time before he went through with his plan but he knew he would be rejected if he said so, so he went with the safe option.

Dean didn't, couldn't say anything but Sam just ploughed right on.

"The way I see it I should probably take a bath in it, you know? So it soaks a little and if there's enough left then maybe I could even drink some to have it working from the inside too and after a few minutes I'd just drop a match and it could be all over, Apocalypse averted, the world saved and you'd be free." Sam paused and looked up hesitantly at Dean who had yet to say anything. "So what do y-"

Before he could finish Dean suddenly jumped to his feet and made a beeline for the bathroom.

Dean was a strong man who had seen many gruesome and downright disgusting things in his life. But the image that Sam's words painted in his mind, of his brother gulping down holy oil only to swallow a couple of lit matches, at the same time throwing his zippo into the tub further filled with the oil to ensure the success of his plan...

He barely made it in time to the bathroom and then everything he ate for breakfast and dinner yesterday and then possibly everything else he had ever ingested made a spectacular reappearance as he heaved.

Sam froze when his brother bolted so suddenly half expecting to be struck or anything really, but he just felt more confused when Dean ran to the bathroom and promptly threw up. He had no idea what would cause such a violent reaction in his brother. He seemed fine up until Sam described his plan in details.

Sam refused to let himself feel hope. There was no hope for a freak who betrayed his family and ended the world.

"Dean?" he called hesitantly because he may not have hope but Dean is his big brother and he loves him more than anything. "What... Are you okay? Dean, what's wrong?"

The older Winchester made a wounded noise, like a dying animal, still violently heaving into the toilet bowl.

Sam stood tentatively and went to crouch next to him, laying a hesitant hand on Dean's back and when that didn't elicit any negative response, he started rubbing gentle circles into his brother's trembling back.

Finally, the vomiting stopped and Dean sagged against the cold porcelain, completely exhausted, tear tracks visible on his pale, scruffy cheeks. Sam was kneeling next to him offering comfort through gentle touches and his presence alone. Finally the older brother went to stand on his shaky legs. Sam immediately jumped up, throwing one of Dean's arms across his own shoulders, and winding one of his arms around Dean's waist to support him. First to the sink and then he led his brother to the bed and laid him down, going as far a to tuck him in. By then Dean recovered a little and he pushed back the caring hands.

The gesture seemed to jerk Sam out of whatever mindset he was in and he withdrew quickly, going back to his chair and looking away again.

The sounds of his bones popping when he wrenched his fingers in obvious distress sounded like canon fire in the silence of the room.

Dean took a deep breath but it was Sam who broke it again.

"So..." he breathed. "You think... you think it might work?"

Dean, sitting up on the bed, put his head in his hands hearing Sam's question.

Gut feeling, huh? God, Sam was more than off or even wrong. He was completely out of it. Set on killing himself in the most painful, scary for the Winchesters and gruesome way possible.

Their mother had died in a fire. Jess had burned right there over Sam. And now Sam was willingly going to set himself on fire to atone for his misplaced trust in that bitch Ruby.

Over Dean's dead body.

"No." the eldest Winchester said raising his head, his sharp gaze boring into his younger brother.

"What?" Sam's eyes widened. "But... why? Did I miss something? In the pla-"

"It's not going to work," Dean cut him off "because you're not going to try."

Sam's head jerked up, his hazel-blue-green eyes widening comically.

"What do you me-"

"I mean you are not going to set yourself on fire, Sam!" Dean drawled out. "Just... no."

Sam looked at him for a few seconds and then his features hardened.

"But why? Why are you telling me this, this is the best plan we have! It's the only way in which I can stop Lucifer from destroying this world and it buys you freedom too!" he argued.

"Freedom?! What the fuck are you talking about?! What freedom?!"

"From me, Dean! You'll be free from me! No more having to look out for me, no more worrying about me doing something stupid or going behind your back, no more me to hold you back! You could do anything you wanted with your life but you gave it all up for me and should've just let me die in Cold Oak and it would all have been much better! Face it!" He rose to a shout when Dean opened his mouth ready to argue.

"Face it, Dean! If you'd just let me die there like I should have then you wouldn't have went to Hell, I wouldn't have gone mad with grief and started listening to Ruby because she promised to find a way to bring you back, and all of this wouldn't have happened! You could've gone wherever you wanted, done whatever you wanted with your life and instead you're stuck with me, here in the middle of the damn Apocalypse, and all. Because. Of me!" Sam finished breathing harshly and Dean just sat there, staring at him with his mouth hanging open.

That's what Sam's been thinking? That the world would be better, that Dean would be better if he'd died?

"You're wrong, Sam." the older Winchester forced out of his constricted throat. "You're wrong, okay? It wouldn't have been better."

"How can you-"

"Shut up!" Dean snapped. "You think it would've been so much better if I burned your body and then, instead of going after Jack and the Yellow Eyed Demon, I drowned myself in cheap whisky until I finally crashed the car into a ditch and died like that? Or if I went on a goddamn hunt and let the monster of the week kill me because there would be no one watching my back?"

"You could've found someone, Bobby-" Sam started but the heat was mostly gone from his voice. He was starting to have difficulties with talking too.

"You think I would let him? Why do you think I made that deal in the first place?" Dean choked.

"Because Dad-" Sam started and once again Dean cut off.

"God dammit, Sam, no! Not because Dad told me, I did it because I couldn't go on without you, don't you get it?! You died and nothing mattered anymore, not Dad, not the family business, not the fucking world!"

Sam's eyes were wide as he gaped at Dean making a fine impression of a fish taken out of the water, minus all the flopping. His mouth worked, open-shut, but no sounds came out of it.

"It could go to Hell for all I cared you fucking moron! So no, forget about your brilliant plan, I'm not about to let you kill yourself because you feel guilty!" Dean finished, panting.

"But... I broke the last seal... I started the Apocalypse." Sam muttered, tears gathering in his wide, hopeful eyes.

"You made a mistake." Dean said forcefully. "Humans do that. And..." he swallowed thickly. "It wouldn't matter if you killed Lilith if I hadn't broken the first seal. So if we're being completely honest, I was the one who started it all." Everybody always blamed Sam for the Apocalypse, himself and Sam included, but in reality if he hadn't been so weak, if he hadn't broken under Alastair's torture, then nothing of this would have happened in the first place.

"No, Dean, no. You can't take the blame for this, you were tortured!" Sam exclaimed frantically.

"Yeah, well, I hear you weren't doing much better up here and that bitch Ruby completely brainwashed you." he shot back. "Lets just... I broke the first seal, you broke the last and the blame is ours equally, okay? I didn't know what would happen if I started torturing souls and everybody has been telling us that killing Lilith is the only way to stop Lucifer from coming out. Cas told us that. Hell, I thought so too and only got mad at you because you preferred to work with Ruby rather than me."

Beat of silence.

"So... we're okay now? We're brothers again?" Sam asked and the hope in his voice crushed Dean's heart.

"Yeah, Sammy. We've always been brothers." he choked out.

"Except... except right before I went in to kill Lilith. When you left me that voicemail."

"What? What are you talking about?" Dean asked, confused.

"The voicemail, Dean." Sam explained with a strained voice. "Don't make me repeat what you'd told me in it, okay? Please."

"I had left you a message, yeah. I told you I was sorry and that we're brothers no matter what." Dean said with a rising feeling of dread. It was magnified by Sam's completely shocked expression.

"No... no, you told me I was a monster. A vampire and a freak and that you were done trying to save me!" Sam's speech sounded more like a moan. "That was why- why I went in in the first place. Because if I had to choose between you k-killing me and going down taking Lilith with me then-"

"Sam, no-"

And then it hit him.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean exclaimed jumping to his feet and putting his fist through the wall. Sam jolted like a nervous colt, almost visibly trembling.

"I should've known they wouldn't just let me talk to you like that! Fucking Zachariah!" Dean raved feeling his fury pumping through his veins wildly. "He said you'd need a 'little nudge in the right direction' but fucking hell!"

"What-" Sam swallowed with difficulty. "What are you talking about, Dean?" he asked completely confused.

"They changed the message!" Dean exclaimed furiously. "I had a fucking chick-flick with that message to you, saying sorry and all and you got some freak ass thing in which I practically disowned you! Dammit!"

Dean was pacing the room like a caged lion. Sam though, Sam slumped in his chair, arms folded on the rickety table, and buried his face in his sleeves, his shoulders shaking. As soon as Dean heard the muffled but unmistakable sound of his little brother crying his rage was caged away in some distant corner of his mind to use and ponder on later and he put his hand on Sam's back, like Sam had done for him not two hours before, rubbing gentle circles into the shaking shoulders. So broad and strong but breaking under all the strain put on them.

"Dean...!" Sam moaned like a dying animal in agony.

"Sam, hey, shh, little brother, it's okay now. It's going to be okay." he comforted and suddenly he found himself with an armful of a Sammy. His brother was a mess, all the emotional pain that he had accumulated finding it's outlet now.

Dean felt tears gathering in his own eyes and he made no move to stop them. This was needed, this was cathartic. He couldn't wrap his mind about everything that he's learned today, it was too much, to big for him.

But now he had Sam back with him, his Sammy, and together they could face anything and come out victorious.

"It's okay, Sammy. It's going to be okay now, I promise."

Sam sobbed and clung to him like he had as a child and he believed that Dean was always right and could do anything in the world.

And Dean clung right back. This was the most important person in his world he had in his arms. He was not about to forget that ever again.

/txtbreak/

Here. I skipped sleeping because who the hell needs sleep anyway and finished this story. O.O Hope you guys like it.