Disclaimer: If this were mine, the show would consist of nothing but chick-flick moments and brotherly schmoop. But as it is, Supernatural has a plot. So clearly, it does not belong to me.

Warnings: Angst? Something finally happens (kind of)?

AU after episode 7x04

When the shouting began, Dean barely registered it. He figured it was probably important. The leviathans had been quiet up until then and to be honest, he kind of liked them that way.

Then again, if they were yelling, then they couldn't be gnawing on his bones, now could they?

Speaking of which, the bites were aching, throbbing in time with his heartbeat. And he figured that that couldn't be good. Actually, that was probably very, very bad. And honestly, it was a little insulting. In the back of his mind, he had always had this idea of how he wanted to go out. Morbid, he knew, but really, he was a hunter. They all knew they had limited lifespans. They all knew they were going to die. He was just very specific as to how he wanted it to happen.

That wasn't weird. He simply had high standards.

But yeah, he had always seen himself exploding. Not in the "Ew, his guts are now all over the room" kind of way. Rather, in the "Holy shit, look at that totally bad ass, raging fireball!" kind of way. Last line of defense in a collapsing, crumbling, disintegrating world. A world that Sam was a very, very safe distance away from. Because he always knew he'd die for Sam, in one way or another. Hell, he'd already done it more than once.

But Sam aside, it'd happen with a literal Bang! That way, everyone could stand around his tombstone and remember the spectacular moment of his death. That way, he'd really be the hero he had always tried to be.

It was a good plan, a well-thought out plan. A plan that did not include dying from an infection because a goddamn monster with a Dean-fetish lacked even the most basic dental hygiene.

Despite his annoyance, it wasn't long before the yelling stopped. But it was long before the door creaked open and the zip-ties were cut from his wrists. He wished it had been longer though, because he found himself dragged from the relative safety of the pole out into the main warehouse. And that would have been fine. A change of scenery was good for a person. Exercise. Semi-fresh air. A lack of his own blood-puddles. All that good stuff. But then he saw a very distinct, unmistakable head raised above the group of leviathans that had congregated in the center of the space.

Heart catching in his chest, locking and stuttering, he breathed, "Sammy," and shook out of the monsters hands, stepping forwards.

Which turned out to be one of his less-hot ideas.

He was on his knees, Sam's worried eyes hovering right in front of him. Sam. Sam. Stupid, stupid Sam. Okay, trying to walk equals horrible idea. As in never try it again.

"Sammy," he repeated, hand coming up to rest on his brother's shoulder, grasping in the fabric there. "You lying-" But he really didn't know how to finish that. He was a lying something. What that something was, he had yet to decide. But it was bad. So bad.

He used to better at this whole speaking thing.

But Sam was here. Sam was here and that wasn't okay. Not at all. "You promised me you wouldn't-"

"Yeah, well, I lied. We're good at that, aren't we?" Sam returned, but without the accusation in his voice that Dean felt should be there. Only an almost fond amusement. A mask, hiding the concern and fear and helplessness Dean could see broiling right under the surface.

With an annoyed sigh that wasn't at all real, Dean lowered his head to Sam's shoulder. "Yeah. Guess we are." Acceptance. Because he knew them, had always known them. He would never abandon Sam and deep down, he had known that Sam would never abandon him.

But he had hoped.

"We're going to be the kings of all," one of the leviathans interrupted. "You can either help us willingly... Or we can take a few more bites out of your brother." Dean didn't flinch, just glared. Because these creatures were trying to get Sam to do something that was going to get Sam killed. Therefore, they deserved every ounce of wrath that Dean still had left in his body. Which was a lot. Though he really wished that he had learned to incinerate people with his eyes because that would have been totally awesome and would have more than effectively made his point.

And he was about to snap that they could bite him all they wanted. Because he tasted damn good and they weren't touching Sam. But then Sam threw over his shoulder, "But if I do this, we'll all be dead anyway."

"Yes, but how painfully do you want him to go? Because we can make it very painful. Almost like... Well, let's just say that Lucifer got some of his best stuff from us." This time, Sam flinched. Damn they were good. The leviathans knew just where to press, just how to make it hurt as much as they possibly could. And that was just totally uncool. Dean Winchester was not leverage. Dean Winchester was not a pawn.

Dean Winchester was pissed off.

"Sammy-"

"Okay," Sam interrupted.

And Dean hadn't even registered the thought before he was shouting, "No!" His voice made Sam flinch, made him look away to stare at the ground as if that would give him all of the answers. It wouldn't. Dean had tried it before. The floor was one-hundred percent useless.

"I'll help you, just... let Dean go." Sam didn't look up, didn't look at Dean who was ducking and darting, trying to put himself in Sam's line of sight. But that was impossible because Sam was stubborn. And Sam knew as well as Dean did that if he looked at him, really looked, he wouldn't be able to go through with this. He'd know exactly what was going on in Dean's mind. He'd see exactly how much this sacrifice was killing him, how much this whole situation was destroying him piece by piece. And that pain would make Sam cave.

Growling to himself, Dean shouted, "This is insane! Just eat me, you purgatory-rejects!"

"Dean-"

"Shut up, jackass!" There must have been something amusing in his voice because Sam suddenly decided to look at him. Sam was looking at him and if Dean wasn't mistaken, his lips were quirking upwards in a half-smile. Well, good. At least someone was enjoying this. And Dean was about to demand to know what the hell he was smiling at and why he looked so calm about this whole thing and how everyone could be so goddamn stupid. And then he was going to demand to know where the hell Bobby was because wasn't he supposed to be watching Sam?

Fail, Bobby.

But then arms wrapped underneath his shoulders, dragging him backwards, like they really thought that was happening. Like they seriously thought Dean was going to be okay with that. "I think we'll keep him here. As a precaution," one of the leviathans said which provided a nice distraction. A perfect opportunity for Dean to drive his elbow straight back into the things gut. Not that it did him much good because in the next moment, he was on his knees again, jolting pains traveling up and down the length of his leg.

"Sam-"

"Dean!" Sam snapped, but then his hands were on Dean's shoulders, eyes boring through his skull to the point where Dean knew that with whatever came next, lying wasn't an option. "Do you trust me?" he asked, only loud enough for Dean to hear him. His voice was urgent, demanding, but below that, there was a hesitancy, an uncertainty that shouldn't have been there underneath a question that never should have had to be asked. "Do you...trust me?" Sam asked again, shaking him.

And staring into his brother's hazel eyes, the ones that he had seen swirl into every possible color on the planet while somehow always remaining perfectly the same, he knew there was only one answer: "Yes."

A/N 2: Almost there, guys! Again, thank you to everyone who is still reading this! Your support means so much to me!