"It's time to let go.

Time to carry on with the show.

Don't mourn what is gone; breathe the dawn

And I will be standing by your side.

Together we'll face the turning tide."

- Dawn, Poets of the Fall

"It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him."

But Dean, slumped against the Impala, watching his little brother pull the Horsemens rings from his pocket as he gets ready to throw himself into Lucifer's cage, knows that it's not going to be okay.

His breath hitches in his throat when Sam throws the key on the ground in front of him, holds his hand out, and there's that split second familiarity. The action is too reminiscent of times before; times that Dean wishes he could forget.

Then Sam speaks the incantation and a hole suddenly rips open in the earth with a rush of air. Crows squawk and take flight to escape the chasm as it greedily tries to suck in anything and everything around it into Hell.

And Sam is just standing there, fear written all over his face. Dean can see his legs shaking, but Sam knows that what he's about to do is for the greater good. So he takes a step forward and now he's leaning precariously on the edge, offering himself up, about to sacrifice himself for a world that left him behind.

And even though Dean's head is spinning and his eye is so swollen he can barely see, even though he promised he would let Sam do this; he can't. He can't let his baby brother willingly hop over into Hell and play chew-toy to Lucifer for the rest of eternity; what the hell kind of big brother would he be then? He's been protecting Sam for years, looking out for him just like their dad had told him to, and now he's just supposed to throw that all out the window?

He doesn't want Sam to go to Hell.

Even though Dean's been there himself, knows what it's like, he knows that whatever Lucy's got planned for Sam is going to be a million times worse. Dean's forty years were just child's play; the King of Hell is sure to be much more creative when it comes to torture methods intended to shatter people from the inside out.

And no matter what Sam thinks, there is no way Dean can ever just forget about his brother and go live that apple-pie life that the two of them have been wanting for years. He doesn't want the white, picket fence and the two-point-five kids.

All he wants is for his brother to not have to do this.

There is no way he can do it. Sam is looking at him again, expression fearful but determined, and his big, doe eyes are telling Dean all he needs to know without having to be expressed with words.

I love you, big brother.

It's that look that gets to him and shatters his heart into a billion tiny pieces. Dean is pulling himself up so fast he almost lands flat on his ass again. His face hurts and his head is throbbing but he manages to stay on his feet by supporting himself against the Impala's sturdy frame.

The wind from the cage door tugs at their clothes and whips Sam's too-long hair into his face. Then, he gives a slow nod to Dean, who can only stare back, horrified, as his brother closes his eyes and spreads his arms outwards in an offering to the Pit.

And then he starts to fall.

Dean moves so fast Sam doesn't even know what hits him; but when he opens his eyes Dean is there, wrapping both arms around Sam's middle and then they're both falling.

"Dean! No!"

But Sam knows it's too late. They're already going down and the wind clawing at them isn't about to let go.

"Can't do it, Sammy. Can't let you do this. Can't let you go. So I'm comin' with you instead."

The anger deflates out of Sam in a rush of tears.

"You're such a jerk."

But Sam wraps his too-long arms around his too-short, big brother anyway, just like how Dean used to do when Sam was little to comfort him after a nightmare.

Then, the cage closes, and the two of them are following each other into oblivion.