And Nothing Else Matters
Dean stood at Sam's left, watching the battle below them. The angels and demons ebbed like the tide, a give and take that could be described as graceful from Dean's distance if it wasn't for the bodies left behind. His eyes searched for a tan trench coat, hoping never to find its fluttering form among the dead.
"You chose the wrong side, Dean."
"I'm standing by you, aren't I?"
Sam's hand squeezed Dean's shoulder like a vice. "By me, not with me. There's a big difference."
The moon rose higher in the sky, taking on a reddish hue. Clouds gathered in the distance and thunder rumbled through the night. Smells of ozone and blood filled the air but the whole battle was strangely silent. No battle cries or pleading for mercy. Just the sounds of angel blades against the demons swords. They made a shimmering sound like metal wires being plucked. A twang that cut quietly through the air.
Dean turned to watch Sam. His eyes had not returned to his human brown since the rescue of the sacrifice. Sam's face was calm, no brooding brows or strained lips. It was mannequin blank as he watched the battle below.
As if feeling Dean's stare, Sam turned to meet his gaze. "It's almost time." Reaching out he cupped Dean's face, running his thumb across his lips. Dean found himself leaning into the touch. "This is not how I wanted this to end."
"You can change it, Sam. We can walk away right now. Just you and me." Sam turned back to the battle, his hand sliding from Dean's face, down his shoulder, to wrap around his waist. "Can you do it? Can you look into my face while you slit my throat?" The hand at his waist tightened before releasing him completely.
"Bring him," Sam tossed over his shoulder as he started to walk down the slope. Before him the demons parted, clearing a path for their king. The earth was slick with blood causing Dean to slip slightly as he made his way down.
From their right they could hear the angles make a last ditch effort to force the horde from their path. But it was too late. Dean could feel it when they reached the sacrifice point. The ground beneath his feet seemed to shift, as if trying to push them away. The air quivered around them, pulsating, churning, causing Dean's breath to catch in his throat, struggling to draw oxygen into his lungs.
Sam drew a wickedly serrated blade, its edge seeming to absorb the light around it. The demons pushed Dean to his knees before Sam, their voices rising in praise to the new king of hell. "The time is nigh, my lord"
"Nigh? Who the hell says that? Damn, Sammy, you're even turning the demon spawn into nerds."
"Only you could joke at a time like this Dean."
Sam reached out, carding his fingers gently through Dean's hair, gripping enough to pull his head back, exposing his brother's throat. Dean didn't struggle. His eyes never left Sammy's. "You haven't asked me. Remember? You were supposed to ask me again tomorrow. It's tomorrow, Sammy."
Sammy's brows furrowed creating a classic bitch face. Dean had to smile; he hadn't seen that face for over a year. Amazing how seeing Sammy look constipated made being sacrificed to begin the rule of hell on earth a good day for Dean. His life had always been so very screwed up.
Sammy's bitch face deepened as he looked into Dean's smiling face. His mind searched memories. What was he supposed to ask? A small part of his mind screamed at him that it was important, not because it was information he wanted or needed but because it made Dean smile.
"So, what did you hope to accomplish?" Sam asked.
"I couldn't let you kill her."
"So you decided to take her place? To die in her stead? The seal will still be broken, you have changed nothing."
"Sammy, I could never stand by while you became king of hell. I could not watch you become this evil thing. To travel this path."
Sam's face was incredulous. "So this is basically suicide? I have to say, I'm a little disappointed in you."
Dean shook his head. "Not suicide, Sammy. Just a choice of where I would spend my last moments. I could either die fighting to stop you or die by your side. I could never be on your side with you becoming hell's bitch in all but this was the next best thing."
"Having me kill you is your next best thing?"
Dean laughed, his voice taking on a broken hitch, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "I promised you when I was four that I would protect you. I went to hell for you. You have been the focus of my life. Don't you see Sammy? Heaven or hell, win or lose, life or death, it doesn't matter. It's only you. It's always been you. Nothing else matters."
Sam paused, eyes searching Dean's. Then he reached his hand out, palm down as if offering a benediction. Dean could feel his power gathering, after all the times it had been used against him in the past few days he was beginning to recognize its presence. Dean forced his eyes to stay open; his last sight would be his brother.
A white blast shot from Sam. It started at his palm but traveled through his body and outward, creating an arching glow of light that spiraled its way through the legions of demons. As the light hit them, each demon would throw its head back in a silent scream, eyes glowing red briefly, ending in a sulfur scented cloud of black ash. "Add some Nazis and melting faces and we would have a scene straight out of Raider of the Lost Ark."
Sam had no response to Dean's banter. His body was rigid, blood dripped from his nose and the blackness slowly washed away from his eyes. The blackness washed away, leaving his eyes a clean, human brown. A human brown without the cold stare, eyes filled with emotions: guilt, regret, horror, and, as he met Dean's gaze, love. Sam was back.
Blinding light still emanating from Sam, he sank to his knees next to Dean. His outstretched hand desperately clutching at his big brother as he used the last of his strength. The Choir of angels surged forward, slaying the demons still on their feet, allowing none to escape or survive.
A rustle of wings and a flash of tan heralded Cas' arrival. His blue eyes glowed. His wings visible against the fading white light. A shadow of sorrow passed over his features as he looked at Dean and then he reached out with two fingers toward Sam's forehead.
"No," screamed Dean as he stumbled to his feet and throwing himself between the angel and his brother. "No," quietly. "No," with determination. "The only way that will happen, Cas is if you kill me first."
"Let him Dean. It's what I deserve."
"Then he takes us both Sammy. I'm not letting you go either." Sam reached out and intertwined his fingers with Dean's. Together, as it should always be.
Cas looked upward, head cocked as he listened to unheard voices. Then he smiled. "Faith Dean. You must spare some for me." Remembering their conversation about faith and miracles, Dean let Cas brush his fingers across Sam's forehead. Sam looked confused at first but his features softened and a smile touched his lips just before he collapsed at Dean's feet.
A frantic "Sam" and Dean was gathering his brother to his chest. Betrayal etched across his face, he looked up at the trench coat wearing, brother slaying, as soon as he could find a blade and some holy oil, dead angel.
"Dean, he is fine. Look." Dean felt for a pulse and found a strong heart beat under his finger tips. Sam's chest rose and fell evenly. "I just removed the rest of the demon blood. He is clean now. Free from all taint. Repentance must be asked for, Dean. In actions or words."
"Is it over, Cas?"
Cas looked over the bloody field. Looking at his dead brethren, both those that fought with him and those that had fallen from grace a millennium before. "Hell has been defeated Dean. But I do not know what that will mean. But for now, yes, it is over."
Dean pulled his brother closer. Peace filling him for the first time since….he had to stop and think. He had not felt this way since Sammy left for Stanford all those years ago.
(****************************************************************)
The old pickup pulled into the motel parking lot. The Impala had not yet been recovered but Cas promised it would be returned within the week. Drawing on his new found faith in angels, Dean kept his panic for his baby at bay. She was out there, lost, most likely gathering dust in some lot, her shine loosing its luster. "Are we getting a room or sleeping in the truck." Sammy interrupted his mental dialogue.
Keys and backpack in hand, Dean led the way into the rundown motel room. Places like this, sadly, felt like home to Dean. Maybe it was time to find a real home. Dean's lips twitched. Maybe he could become a real boy.
Turning he found Sam frozen in the doorway. Guilt was coming off him so hard it practically made visible waves. Shit, Dean thought, we are going to have a chick flick moment. He knew it was coming but had hoped to avoid it for a couple of days. After the battle, he had promised himself that he would never again deny the emotional outlets that Sammy seemed to need in order to function. He would do anything for Sammy but it didn't mean he had to like it.
"Dean," voice weak and broken. "After all I've done. I…" Sam looked franticly at Dean, eyes trying to convey the depth of his horror, the guilt of his actions.
"Sam, demon's blood is a poison," Cas said. "It affects the soul. The fact that you managed to overcome it at the last moment really says something about the person you really are."
"How can you?" Sam asked.
"How can I what?"
"Forgive me? I beat you, let them torture you. I forced myself…oh god Dean. I raped you. I forced all my sick perversions on you. I never wanted you to know. I never meant for you…" Sammy lost his battle with his emotions, dropping to his knees he sobbed.
Dean watched his brother crumble at his feet. He was shocked at the sudden revelation of the extent of his little brother's feelings. "You never wanted me to know what, Sammy? You're saying that you felt that way before the demon blood? You wanted me before you went all dark side?"
With each word Sammy pulled deeper into himself, his long body tightening to a small ball. Despair, disgust, self hatred flowed out of Sammy's very pores. Dean stood still, his thoughts raging through his mind as he remembered his time in Sammy's bed.
"Damn, Sammy you need to listen to me. If I am going to chick flick vomit all this emotional stuff you need to listen, cause I will never say it again. This is it! Are you listening?"
Sam's tear streaked face looked up at Dean. Taking a deep breath, Dean continued with his 'moment'. Oh, shoot me now, he thought.
"All my life I have only wanted a few things. I want a family, a place where I belong. I had that with you. We could have that again, Sammy. I want to be needed and wanted. Could you give me that?"
Sammy's eyes were huge. This was an open Dean, one he had never seen. "Yes, Dean. I need you. I have always wanted you."
Dean nodded and continued. "So, all I have ever wanted, my whole life is a family who wants me as much as I want them." He walked over and knelt by Sammy. "It's you Sammy. You are all I have ever wanted." Sam pushed his way into Dean's arm, hugging him tightly.
Chuckling, Dean hugged him back. "Now the sex. I'm not saying it wasn't mind blowing. It was just unexpected."
"You still want that? With me? Us?"
"There's that college educated vocabulary at work." He leaned down and captured Sam's mouth with his own, deepening the kiss yet keeping it gentle and soft. Dean tugged Sam to his feet and pulled him toward the bed. "It's always been us. I guess now we just have added benefits."
Sam laughed knocking his teeth against Deans. "Okay, okay, brothers with benefits" and he pushed Dean to the bed. Pulling his shirt off, Sam straddled Dean's hips and quickly worked on the smaller man's clothes. Shirts discarded, pants peeled from long legs, Sammy took a second to look at Dean. Somehow he had earned a second chance at happiness. He would not screw this one up.
Later, legs tangled with Dean's and his head resting on his brother's shoulder, Sam started to laugh. "Care to share," Dean rumbled, sleep deepening his voice.
"I'm just remembering what you said. On the field." Sammy lifted his head, looking at his sex mussed brother. "Dude, you quoted Metallica. It could have been the end of the world and you quote a metal band."
"What can I say Sammy, Metallica is the answer to everything." Dean smiled, not his cocky grin or the wide smile that made girls melt, but his true smile, the one that was for Sammy alone. Sam tucked back against his brother's chest and let sleep claim him.
Dean stayed awake, thinking. He had not quoted Metallica, at least not intentionally. But truth was truth, whether it came from a song or from his very soul. Because in all the world, heaven or hell, it was Sammy and nothing else matters.
AN: That's it! Let me know what you think. I hope you liked it.