At times, Sam would think back to when it all began, and he'd wonder why he'd made such a fuss about the demon blood in his veins. Why was the idea of becoming the boy king of Hell such a misfortune?

If he'd killed Jake at Cold Oak when he should have and accepted the role Azazel had mapped out for him, many of their acquaintances and friends would still be alive, living out their lives as was intended.

But things hadn't turned out that way.

Dean had ended up in Hell after having made a deal for Sam's life.

Filled with guilt and desperation, the younger Winchester had gone down a path that had brought him near to death; alcohol and drugs reducing him to one of the dregs of humanity.

He had been on the verge of killing himself many a time, but he couldn't quite bring himself to go through with it.

Dean had given his life to keep his little brother alive, and the part of Sam that was still lucid couldn't allow Dean's sacrifice to be in vain.

Strange to say, Sam had to thank the Crossroads demon, the one who'd mocked and derided him when he'd pleaded to take Dean's place in Hell.

"Take me in exchange for Dean," he'd yelled, barely managing to stay on his feet, his body thrumming with the effects of alcohol.

When the demon had denied him, Sam had plunged the demon-killing knife into the taunting creature's hand.

:

To this day, Sam couldn't pinpoint the precise moment it happened.

All the years of suppressing the part of himself that was tainted with demon blood, bottling it up and pushing it down into the depths of his soul, were as if they had never been when a scarlet mist exploded in his brain.

He could feel the heat of the red liquid flowing through his veins, like some super serum straight from a comic book hero.

Only this strength and power weren't for good, but for evil.

How strange was it that Dean was the catalyst that had set it all in motion?

Sam missed his brother desperately and that, mixed with the burden of guilt for having been the reason Dean was being tortured in Hell, had blasted through the boundaries Sam had so diligently set and flipped all the circuits in his mind.

The first to taste Sam's newfound power had been the Crossroads demon himself.

Sam had torn him apart without setting a finger on him.

It had felt so liberating, no longer needing to fight to keep a rein on the darkness infesting his mind and body.

Now there was only one thing he had to do.

:

For a moment, he hesitated.

Would Dean still look at him with the same fond twinkle in his eye now that he had surrendered himself to the power of the blood? Would he still want to be near the evil that Sam had succumbed to?

Sam pushed the thoughts away. It didn't matter what happened to him. All that did matter was to get Dean out of Hell, then if Dean wanted no more to do with him, Sam would back off, never to bother him again.

Retrieving the knife, Sam set off in a stumbling gait towards a nearby parking lot, hot-wiring the first car he found and setting it on the road for the Devil's Gate in Wyoming.

For the first time in his life, Sam felt free from the dread that had accompanied him from the moment at Cold Oak when Azazel had replayed that night in his nursery where he'd dripped his blood into the baby's mouth.

Sam had never wanted this.

All he'd ever wanted was to be normal, but with this new awareness fuelled by the blood, Sam finally understood that this was his destiny.

Whatever he did, he could never have avoided it.

"You were the chosen one. Since the beginning of time, it had to be you," the insidious voice in his mind whispered.

'And what of Dean?' Sam asked. "What was his role? Gatekeeper of the devil child, protector of the soon-to-be demon king?"

He didn't expect an answer, but he received one. 'Dean is your right hand, now and forever. He will give you the love you need to resist in the lovelessness and despair of Hell.'

Sam huffed his disdain. How could Dean love him now that he had become an abomination? His brother would look at him with horror and loathing.

:

The last time Sam had been to this desolate place, he'd been accompanied by Dean and their friends. Now he was alone. Nevertheless, he approached the Gate with impatience. Dean was waiting on the other side.

Sam didn't have the Colt, the key that opened the Gate, but it wasn't a problem.

As he focused his gaze on it, the door seemed to swirl and shudder, as if it recognized that the Master had arrived and was here to claim his Kingdom.

With a rasp of metal on metal, the iron gate slowly began to open.

As soon as the aperture was wide enough for Sam to slip through, he stepped into Hell.

:

He wasn't sure what he'd find, but other than the sight of an infinite corridor stretching out before him, there was nothing. What surprised him even more was the silence.

Sam had expected to be deafened by the moans and screams of the damned, but it was as if all that had been temporarily eliminated to welcome him in.

Was that possible? Did Hell acknowledge him as its Boy King even before he took a step forward?

Sam didn't know and he didn't care. All he wanted was his brother.

:

He raced along the corridor, deeper into Hell, unafraid and uncaring. After a few minutes, he began to hear the sounds associated with the Pit, the screams and moans of the tortured.

Was this what Dean was suffering?

His sibling didn't deserve to be punished. Dean had given up his soul into the hands of these abominations to resurrect his baby brother. Dean was innocent. Sam was the guilty one.

No one crossed his path as he continued onward, the wails of the tormented his only companion.

Then he heard it, Dean's voice. His brother was screaming, screaming Sam's name.

He pictured Dean in his mind and without understanding how it was possible, he found himself looking up at him.

Dean was dangling from a meat hook, his body shackled by heavy chains.

:

"I'm here, Dean, " Sam yelled. "I'm here."

Sam made a fist and lifted his arm toward his brother.

Like magic, the chains shattered, the hook disintegrated and Sam stretched out his arms as Dean fell straight into them.

His brother was broken and bruised although Sam was aware that what he was clutching in his arms was Dean's soul, not his body. He took a moment to digest the enormity of it.

He was touching the most intimate part of his brother, Dean's immortal soul.

Dean's body was buried in the grave Sam had dug in the depths of an isolated forest, waiting to be rejoined with its missing half.

Dean's eyes were unfocused and confused but eventually, he gazed up at Sam. "Is this a new method of torture? Are we upgrading?"

Even if he was horrified by what had been done to his brother, Sam forced a smile. "It's me, Dean. The real me."

"Yeah…I bet," Dean retorted tiredly. " You get me to think it's true, then you show your fugly demon face. I won't fall for it again."

:

Sam decided that the only way Dean was going to believe was to get the fuck out of this place. He gripped Dean more tightly and ran towards the Devil's Gate, exiting into the area beyond, closing the Gate with a flick of his head.

He glanced down at his brother. Dean who had seemed so solid in Hell was beginning to become translucent. He had to get Dean's soul back to where he had buried his body.

Despair washed over Sam. The tomb was hundreds of miles away. How was he going to get there before Dean became a pure spirit?

"Fuck," Sam cursed.

He had walked into Hell and back out, unscathed. Maybe he could transport like demons too.

He conjured up an image of the grave in his mind and willed himself to be there.

:

Could be there are some positive aspects to this demon blood crap, Sam asked himself when he found himself exactly where he wanted to be.

Still cradling Dean in his arms, with his mind Sam willed the grave to open, which it did.

Bending forward, he lowered Dean onto the top of the coffin.

" Enter into your body, Dean," Sam said encouragingly. "I'll open the casket as soon as you do."

From the moment Sam had freed his brother until now, Dean had remained silent. Sam understood. His big brother had been afraid he was being taunted by demons and was still in Hell.

:

Now he caught Sam's gaze. "Is it really you, Sammy,?" Dean asked in a tiny voice.

Sam nodded. "It's me, Dean. Now go take back your body and then we'll talk."

As if finally accepting Sam's words, Dean's soul passed through the casket lid and disappeared inside.

True to his word, Sam cracked open the lid and looked down.

Dean's body had been partially consumed by its time below ground but as Sam watched, it began to miraculously repair itself.

:

Before long, Sam found himself gazing into his brother's familiar green eyes.

"Help me out of here, " Dean grunted, stretching out an arm for Sam to catch hold of.

As if it was Sam who had just gotten out of Hell and not him, Dean patted his brother's body to see if he was okay, before pulling him into a fierce hug.

There was no one to see them come together with the love and devotion they shared, other than the animals who inhabited the forest, but the brothers didn't need anyone else.

They were together again and if there were consequences, they would deal with them as they always did; the Winchester way.

The end