Highway to Hell, Winchester style.
Dean stared morosely at his glass, the amber liquid in it catching the dim lights of the bar he was sitting in. It was his second glass but since the first had done nothing for him except to increase his gloom, it seemed preferable to wait for the second drink to provide some insights into what he was going to do than to actually swallow it down. The whole Sam situation culminating in the Siren induced brutal verbal and physical fight was only a day ago and it made Dean feel far older and wearier than he ever remembered feeling before. And it wasn't as if he had no experience at feeling old and weary what with becoming responsible for Sam at much too young an age and the whole going to Hell deal. But this was different in that he felt as if the fight had changed him fundamentally from 'big brother Dean' to 'can- kill-his-brother-to-save-the-world Dean'. It had been bad enough that he felt he had lost his Sammy, bad enough that Sam looked to be all set to moving towards his demon destiny, the worst part for Dean now was that the thing he had always considered to be inconceivable – killing Sam to save him – now appeared more and more inevitable and possible. In his siren induced rage he had wanted to kill Sam – had picked up the axe, and but for Bobby, would have brought it down again and again on his baby brother, as he had once brought a crowbar down again and again on the other of his two 'babies'. Hell had ensured that his world view of himself as savior of the innocent, a hero, was tarnished forever. Now his resurrection seemed set to ensure that his world view of himself as savior and protector of Sam became just as tarnished. In his pre hell existence, long decades ago, Sam had once become possessed by the spirit of a mad doctor, Dr Ellicott. In his possession driven rage Sam had tried to kill Dean several times. While that would never be Dean's favorite memory by any stretch of imagination, it was one that had made him feel morally superior to his otherwise far more moral brother. When Dean felt as if he had jumped over too many moral lines, he would remember Ellicott and think 'at least I've never tried to kill my brother'. Now the Siren had put that conceit to rest.
Well obviously sitting here alone at the bar and drinking were not helping much. Dean considered picking up the obviously interested bar maid for a night of pleasure and forgetfulness, but the mood didn't feel right. The last thing he needed was to tarnish another cherished world view – that of a consummate and always 'up to the challenge' lover. Besides he was getting some strange vibes from the barmaid – she reminded him a little of the crazy waitress from Tampa. While Dean had never hesitated to use his looks for gaining any advantage he could both for work and for sex, he had seen enough of the world to know that his beauty and bad boy image sometimes combined to attract a type of personality that was best described as loony shading into psycho. At one of his high schools there had been that girl, Honey, who had developed a massive crush on him. Not so unusual, except that her devotion to him took the form of serious jealousy and hatred of Sam. She had believed that Sam wasn't good enough for him, that Sam took too much and gave nothing … Dean had been angry enough to kill her the day he found out. Sam had forgiven and forgotten, but Dean still found both impossible. It wasn't that he was blind to Sam's faults but Sam was human and Dean himself was hardly without faults. He had brought up Sam and in that sense some of Sam's faults could be laid at Dean's own door for overlooking and condoning. Not that Dean saw it that way – Sam was his to love, to scream at, and to protect from psychos who thought their one sided 'love' for him gave them the right to trash his brother. During his decade long career as one of Hell's most skilled 'inquisitors', it had often been Honey's face that he imagined on to his victims. It had made it so much easier to inflict pain on another defenseless soul...
Ookay – another line of thought that needed to be stopped right now! Groaning, Dean gave up the dream of a night of alcohol or sex induced amnesia and settled for going back to the motel. If he was going to brood, he may as well brood while keeping an eye on his equally broody brother. Who knew, maybe families that brooded together could stay together – 'we could become the brooders Winchester instead of the brothers Winchester', Dean chuckled at the thought as he keyed the impala's door open.
Back at the Motel, Sam looked up from his laptop as the door was pushed open, bitch face all ready to use on a drunk and stumbling brother. Confronted with a surprisingly sober Dean however, he couldn't help but feel almost nauseous with regret for the relatively unburdened man that Dean had once been, and for the good old days when their main worry had been hunting outsiders rather than each other. It was all part of the plan to make Dean hate him enough, but actually executing the plan was going to kill Sam way before Lilith or the angels or some stray hunters or demons or even Dean himself had to. 'I'm going to hell soon' Sam reminded himself desperately 'and I can't let Dean follow me there. Remember what happened the last time I died – he spent 40 years in hell for me. No, this time I have to be strong, I have to make him hate me; make it easy for him to kill me if necessary and definitely easy for him to live without me if someone else succeeds in killing me. I'm doomed – the demon blood inside of me will always damn me, as the angels have so clearly shown. But Dean has hope; he can still live a safe life if he lets me go, and after he dies he can go to heaven, be with mom and dad, with Jess … I can't and won't doom him again.' Mentally strengthening his barriers, Sam turned away from Dean, turned his back on the brother he loved so much more than himself, and resumed his search for Lilith and for death.