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[Pain]
Every other week it seems like Dean’s hearing some sort of bullshit about Sam from angels or demons or prophets. He’s the Anti-Christ, the prince of Hell, the Queen of England—because of course Sammy would be a Queen. He doesn’t believe them.
Until now.
He’s not scared of Sam. That’s his baby brother in there. No matter what he does, he will always be his baby brother. He’s scared of what Sam will do. He’s scared of what Sam has done and most of all he’s terrified he’s never, ever gonna get his baby brother back. Not the way he used to be with that big dorky smile and the way he stumbles over his own gynormous feet.
At one time, nothing. He knew Sam inside and out, all the crevices and cracks. He could write a book about the things he knew about Sam and it’d be a hellva lot longer than the list of things he knew about himself. But now…he didn’t even know Sam was on demon blood. He feels like a stupid, oblivious parent because somehow this is his fault. If he’d been…more of anything at all, Sam wouldn’t be locked up.
If Dean weren’t so damn tired, he’d be angry. Angry at the situation, angry at Sam, angry at Ruby and angry at God. Which figures…two point four seconds after Dean decides he believes in God, he’s pissed at him. It all boils down to one thing. Dean wants to go back.
Back to goofy smiles.
Back to a time when he didn’t believe in Sam’s destiny.
And Dean’s terrified he’s never going to get there.
Maybe this is his punishment. This is for that first day he broke and every day after that. This is for ten years of souls on the rack and every drag of the blade down skin that was only there to be tortured. Sammy’s paying for every crime that Dean ever did and it occurs to him that Castiel didn’t drag him back; he dragged him deeper.
Every other week it seems like Dean’s hearing some sort of bullshit about Sam from angels or demons or prophets. He’s the Anti-Christ, the prince of Hell, the Queen of England—because of course Sammy would be a Queen. He doesn’t believe them.
Until now.
He’s not scared of Sam. That’s his baby brother in there. No matter what he does, he will always be his baby brother. He’s scared of what Sam will do. He’s scared of what Sam has done and most of all he’s terrified he’s never, ever gonna get his baby brother back. Not the way he used to be with that big dorky smile and the way he stumbles over his own gynormous feet.
“What don’t I know about that kid?”
At one time, nothing. He knew Sam inside and out, all the crevices and cracks. He could write a book about the things he knew about Sam and it’d be a hellva lot longer than the list of things he knew about himself. But now…he didn’t even know Sam was on demon blood. He feels like a stupid, oblivious parent because somehow this is his fault. If he’d been…more of anything at all, Sam wouldn’t be locked up.
If Dean weren’t so damn tired, he’d be angry. Angry at the situation, angry at Sam, angry at Ruby and angry at God. Which figures…two point four seconds after Dean decides he believes in God, he’s pissed at him. It all boils down to one thing. Dean wants to go back.
Back to goofy smiles.
Back to a time when he didn’t believe in Sam’s destiny.
And Dean’s terrified he’s never going to get there.
Maybe this is his punishment. This is for that first day he broke and every day after that. This is for ten years of souls on the rack and every drag of the blade down skin that was only there to be tortured. Sammy’s paying for every crime that Dean ever did and it occurs to him that Castiel didn’t drag him back; he dragged him deeper.
