Sam woke up gently. He could feel himself slowly gaining consciousness. Opening his eyes, he took a relaxed breath. It had been so long since he'd felt so like himself. He didn't feel tired or drained. The achiness was also gone.

Unfortunately, this meant that his nightmares really could only be fixed by confronting them and to do that he needed to talk to Dean. Any inkling of second thoughts were definitely out of the question.

He wondered what time it was. It felt early. Propping himself on his elbows, he looked around the room and was surprised to see his brother's form asleep on the couch.

Sitting up fully, Sam swang his legs over the edge of the bed, trying to be as quiet as possible. He didn't want to wake Dean if he could help it.

He sat there for a few seconds taking inventory of his body and was relieved to find that his earlier assessment was correct. He was completely back to normal or as close to that as to not feel any side effects.

Tip toeing out of the room, he strolled to the bathrooms to relieve himself. He tried not to think about what he knew would have to happen today. When he thought about it, it made him feel shivery. A potent mix of anticipation and fear.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror assessingly before losing focus as his eyes wandered down to the dark depths of the drain.

Could this ruin them? They'd just started to be brothers again. It seemed that for years they just couldn't seem to connect properly. It felt like finally Dean had forgiven him. It would probably be best to not dredge all this up again. Leave well enough alone as it were.

Maybe if he didn't remind Dean of all the times he'd betrayed him, Dean would simply forget and Sam could be his little brother again. He'd been operating under that idea for a long time and it seemed to be okay.

Except that it wasn't. His nightmares made that abundantly clear.

Sighing, he splashed cold water on his face and headed to the kitchen. If they were gonna do this then he wanted a big plate of all Dean's favourite foods in front of him. It wasn't a bribe per say but it also wasn't not a bribe.

He froze as he entered the kitchen. Dean was already sitting at the table, sipping a cup of coffee from the smell of it. He also had a bowl of corn flakes in front of him.

"Morning." He tipped his cup at Sam in cheers.

Well there went that plan. "Hey Dean," he said pouring himself a bowl also. "What time is it?"

"Around six am last time I checked." He said this with his mouth full. Sam rolled his eyes while making a fake disgusted face. "How are you feeling?"

"Good."

Spoon hovering half way to his mouth, milking splashing in and around the bowl, Dean paused to look at his brother.

"Really," Sam hurried to assure. "I feel good."

"Alright. I believe you man. You definitely look like you could be my brother," Giving him a cheeky smile, "I have a reputation to protect you know. Can't have no fuglies related to me,"

Sam threw his spoon at him in annoyance. Dodging the milky utensil, Dean laughed, "I'm kidding. Jeez! Learn to take a joke. And pick that up. I'm not your maid."

Doing as he was told, Sam picked the spoon up off the floor. "No kidding. I'd never hire such a butch maid." He placed the dirty spoon in the sink and got another one.

"Dude! Words hurt."

Sam gave him an incredulous look. Sometimes he couldn't believe his brother.

"You're really okay?" Dean asked in a moment of seriousness.

Reclaiming his seat, "Yea. I'm good," he said softly and focused back on his cereal.

Sam sat on his bed. He hadn't brought up his nightmares all day and true to his word, Dean hadn't said a single thing about it. It seemed that he was going to wait for Sam to bring it up. It was night again but it was still early enough.

He knew that he definitely wanted to do this now but it was just a matter of how to approach it. After thinking and thinking, the only thing he could come up with was just to tackle it head on. That was the plan.

Getting up, he went in search of his brother. He walked around the entire bunker but couldn't find Dean anywhere.

He must be in his room, he thought. It was so early in the evening that he did not even think to look there. Nothing was working in his favour today. For some reason, talking to Dean about this in his room seemed too personal.

Squaring his shoulders, he walked to his brother's room and knocked on the door.

"Come in," he heard through the door and with resolve, he entered the room. Again Dean was lying on the couch. It seemed that he had been using the laptop but right now it was shut on the floor.

Closing the door softly, Sam turned to look at Dean only for his eyes to dart around the room when their eyes met.

"So... as you know, I've kind of been having nightmares." He definitely wasn't looking at Dean as he said that.

"Yes."

"Alright so I've been having them for a while now," he continued shakily.

"Uh-hmm," Dean hummed to let him know he was listening.

"They kinda have to do with you." He paused again for a stretch. "This is kind of hard to do," he chuckled weakly seating on the bed.

"Alright hold on," Dean said. "Lay in the bed and turn off the lights."

"What?" Sam asked confused. That came out of no where. He ran his toes absently on the carpet near the bed.

"Shut up this makes sense. It'll be like we're in the Impala. We talk there all the time and it's always dark."

Shrugging in agreement, Sam climbed into the bed and turned off the lights. God, he loved Dean's bed. Just like last night, he pulled the covers up under his arms again and kept his eyes on the ceiling. He didn't feel even a little tired. In fact he was buzzing with energy.

"So you've been having nightmares about me," Dean prompted.

"Yea," and he stopped. Taking deep breaths as he remembered.

"Can you tell me?" Dean asked softly. He sounded like he really wanted to know, but he didn't want to push.

"There were many. Some were down right unbearable but the one that sticks with me the most is the first one. You know?" He absently scratched at the scraggly hair on his chin. "It was about that time Metatron killed you." This came out as a whisper. As if if he said it softly, that moment wouldn't exist in reality.

Dean didn't say anything. Maybe he knew that Sam had to get this out.

"When it happened, I was too far away to do anything but I will always hear that gasp you made. For a while when you were a demon, it played on repeat in my head. That was the sound of my failure." He clenched his fists into the sheets.

"In the dream, everything happened the same except that when you died, Metatron's voice whispered to me that it was my fault. You died because of the lies I'd told you and the secrets I'd kept. In the dream, the Mark of Cain doesn't bring you back. You died and nothing I did could bring you back. All the while Metatron kept saying that it was my fault."

"Sammy," Dean sighed sadly. "You have to know that that is not true."

"That's what I kept telling myself. It's just a dream. It's not true. It wadn't real," He shook his head in the darkness, trying to chase away the remnants of the memories unsuccessfully. "But somewhere deep down, I knew that I was lying to myself."

"Sammy-"

"No Dean," he cut his brother off. "You think I didn't fight those words? Over and over I kept denying it and over and over I watched you die in more horrible ways. All the while knowing it was my fault." This he insisted. "Dream Metatron was me. He was just saying what I was thinking subconsciously and you know what? He was right."

"You can't carry all the blame here Sam. We both made mistakes along the way."

"Yes I can Dean!" he said vehemently, sitting up in the bed.

"Calm down. You're working yourself up," Dean sternly chastised him for his efforts.

"Sorry," he sank back down onto the bed in a huff. "I can prove it. Clearly dream me wanted me to be honest with you in a way that I had never been before."

The room settled into silence for a moment. "Dean?" he said.

"I'm here Sammy,"

"I know you are. Can I tell you something?"

"Of course you can. You can tell me anything."

"You can't make fun of me for this later though alright?"

"Scout's honour," he swore.

Ignoring the fact that Dean was never a scout, he continued. "Actually I always wanted to be a hunter like you."

"No way." He could hear Dean's disbelief clearly. He sounded so dumbfounded

A quick burst of laughter escaped him. "Really. There was a time all I wanted to do was hunt. That was around the time I had Sully."

"Oh yea. I remember that. You were always bugging me to get dad to let you hunt." He could hear the couch creaking under Dean's weight and it served to make it more real than just a disembodied voice floating in the darkness. "What happened?" Dean asked.

"Well no matter how hard I tried I wadn't good enough. I mean I practiced and ran and did everything. Dad wouldn't let me hunt. It was so unfair you know. When you were my age, he let you do all kinds of things but he wouldn't let me. He kept treating me like a baby. Come to think of it, that's kind of when I started hating him." He paused. "Well not hate really, more that I was angry with him."

"Hmm," Dean murmured.

"The angrier I was at him though, the more I looked up to you. You were able to do these amazing things and to me it made you seem invincible. You say you're batman but to me, you were more like Superman."

He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "All I wanted was to go out hunting with you. Be like my big brother. But all I kept getting was no. So I started to dislike hunting because it took you away. I felt like I was always alone. You were gone. Dad was gone and anytime I made some friends to fill the void, we'd have to leave."

"I'm sorry Sammy. I didn't know."

"I know Dean. I didn't tell anyone how I was feeling. I didn't want you to think I was a baby, like dad did. No matter what, you always treated me like I was smart and like you wanted to hear what I had to say so I wadn't gonna whine to you like a kid."

"At the same time, the teachers at all those schools kept saying that I should think about college. I was feeling so stifled by dad that I just wanted to get out, you know?" He rubbed his hands over his face. "I didn't think that by leaving Dad I'd be leaving you too. So much for being smart huh?

"My first few months at school were so hard. I spent so much time fighting myself. I wanted to call you so badly. We'd left on such a bad note and I was afraid you'd say you hated me. So I stayed away. I didn't call no matter how much really I wanted to. I even started drinking for a moment there."

"Sammy..." Dean said sadly.

"I was spiraling so badly," he continued. "Luckily I met Jessica. She saved me man. I think that's why it hurt so bad that she died because of me. She was good and pure." His voice trembled slightly. There would always be an ache in his heart that belonged to Jess.

"I'd been gone for a while when I was finally able to convinced myself that maybe I'd over hyped you in my mind. You couldn't be as cool as I'd thought. I was just polishing my memories. I was able to stop missing you so much and just accept that I couldn't really have spent my life riding in the backseat of my dad's car with you. Most siblings, no matter how close, always ended up going their separate ways and this was just our time to do this. And then you ruined it all when you broke into my apartment. We went on that case together. Remember? The woman in white?"

Dean chuckled as he remembered. His voice rumbled in the dark. It reminded Sam of the Impala somehow.

"You were just as I remembered. Not only that but finally I got what I had always wanted. To go hunting with my big brother. I knew as soon as you dropped me back at my apartment it was gonna be so hard to get back to normal after you left but what could I do? I couldn't just bail. I had that interview and a devoted girlfriend. She'd done so much for me. But man I wanted to. So badly," He admitted. He remembered the longing he'd felt as he'd entered his apartment. Before he found Jess.

"We've been traveling together off and on now for twelve years Dean and in that time there were some things I had to accept about you. You were fearless. You were always right and even though you were human, supernatural beings were terrified of you.

"What the hell dude," Dean laughed.

"I'm serious. The first time we met the angels, I was in complete awe but not you. You called them dicks and—and junkless! I couldn't believe it."

"During that fight with Micheal and Lucifer in Stull Cemetery, you just walked up to him all, 'Hey we need to talk,'" at this his voice dipped in imitation of Dean. "It was like he didn't even matter. You basically dismissed him. The biggest baddest being in our world. Same deal with God and Amara and so many powerful supernaturals. You're fearless."

"I definitely feel fear Sammy." Dean admitted.

"You do a good job of hiding it. You always seem so unfazed. I wanted to be strong like that too. You were always coming to my rescue. I wanted to save you too. I wanted to do the same thing for you."

"You do Sammy," he said with conviction. "You want to know why I can stand up to those things? It's not because I'm fearless. It's cause of you. I know that some how you'll find a way to get us out."

"Wait. What?"

"It's true. You always manage to find a way for us to survive. I don't always agree with your methods but you do."

"That's another thing Dean. I look at you and I see a hero and I feel unworthy of the faith you have in me. It's taken me a long time to accept that in my world there are some truths. Numbers are infinite, God has a sister and my big brother will do anything for me– including die." He delivered this with such acceptance and certainty. "You don't know how heavy that last truth is. Because of this, I've made you do some truly horrible things. Things that go against who you are as a person."

"That's not true. I've never done anything I didn't want to do."

"You might have done it willingly but it went against who you were. You trusted Ruby because I asked you to, even though everything in you told you not to. You went back to hell to see Lucifer even though again your gut told you not to and you were right. You only went because I insisted."

Dean was suspiciously quiet as he said this.

"Every decision you've made, you made in relation to something I did, said or asked you to do. The mark of Cain." He was on a roll now. "You only went with Crowley because I said that I would let you die and we should stop being "brothers". Those words led you to that warehouse with Metatron and your demon self fought against becoming human again because you didn't want to face what my words meant."

"You're thinking of it too deeply."

"I have to Dean!" he said sharply. "I have to," again, quietly this time.

"You're basically Superman and my words have the ability to affect your decisions. So when I keep things from you or you are blindsided or when I ask you to do things that go against your gut. Bad things happen.

"You realize that in this analogy you're basically saying that you're Lois Lane right?"

"What? No way. You're Lois Lane," he shot back.

"No I'm Superman. You're a brunette in a pencil skirt," Dean smirked. Sam knew that he was just trying to defuse the tension in the air and he was grateful.

"My point is that we're supposed to be partners. You're supposed to be able to trust me and me you."

"I do trust you Sam." Dean's quiet admission shattered Sam. He hadn't heard those words in such a long time. They were so filled with sincerity that he couldn't take them for anything but truth.

"I know, but the problem is that you would die for me and I would die for you but we still willingly keep things from each other. Every time we've done this, something bad has happened to one of us, someone we cared about or the world. You say you trust me-"

"I do," Dean insisted.

"And I trust you too. So why do we still keep things from each other? Why can't you trust me with what's in your head? And I know. I know. You don't like chick flick moments but Dean at this point it's unlikely that I'll ever be able to build a life outside of hunting and I don't want to," He hurried to add.

"This is what I always wanted when I was a kid and it's everything I hoped for. But I can't watch you die again. Especially if it happens because we weren't able to talk to each other. I want to be able to tell you things without worrying. I want you to tell me when I'm being an idiot or when your gut tells you I'm wrong. Instead of just doing it because you can't say no to me."

"Alright listen to me carefully. I'll always tease you. I'm your brother. It's kind of in the job description but," Dean sat up for this. "You will always be able to come to me. No matter what. Whenever you need me I'm always gonna be there. I've told you this a million times," he said exasperatedly. "You some how built me up in your head but Sam I'm just a person. I'm not fearless. I'm not invincible. Most times I jump into these situations crapping my pants. You didn't hear me the first time I said it so I'll say it again. I can only go into these things because I know you're going to come up with an answer. My strategy is to bluff and distract until you get us out.

"You're not making me do anything. I trust you over my gut any day for the same reason I trust you to have my back. You always come up with out of the box solutions. Things I'd never think of and truth is that a lot of the times our backs are to the wall. Any shot even a long one is better than none and if it doesn't work, I know you'll come up with something else. You always do."

He laughs humourlessly. "You're separating them but these scenarios are all the same thing. What you're describing is our everyday lives. When we're in a tight spot, you come up with a crazy plan and ask me to trust you. Whether that is dealing with a ghost, a deity, trusting Ruby or letting you jump into the hole with Satan. You're just focusing on the times your plan didn't work. They're not different situations."

"I'll always bet on you Sam,' he continued. "Even if your first or second plan fails. Even if the plan is crazy, risky, dangerous or out there I will always bet on you."

Sam could feel the tell tale prickling of tears fighting their way to the surface. He'd never thought of it that way. All this time he thought that he was steering Dean down a path that he would end up hating him for, when actually Dean was following him truly because he trusted him and knew that no matter what they'd figure it out together.

He coughed, trying to fight back the tears.

"Dude are you crying?"

"No I'm not. Shut up." He could hear the wobbliness in his voice and coughed again.

"Uh huh. Sure thing Samantha," Dean teased. They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Each lost in their thoughts.

"I agree with you though about being more open. I'll try to be better at that Sammy. I'm not promising that I'll be great at it but I will try."

"Thank you," Sam said around a yawn. "I will too." Suddenly he felt drained.

"Sleep now. We can talk more in the morning."

"Kay. Night Dean," he whispered sleepily as he turned over in the bed.

"You too Sam."