Together, we will

[hopeitsworthit]

The weak link on the Winchester totem pole.

That's all Dean's even been, isn't it?

He thinks it should hurt more, or at least sting a little. Kind of wants it to, even. That'd mean this is Situation Normal.

Only it ain't ever gonna be that again. Nothing is.

The real bitch about hospitals is that he can keep this up all day. And it still ain't enough self-flagellation for what he's done.

Comments

[gavemea_45]

He walks back in bearing a paper sack and a Coke in a foam cup.

"Cheeseburger the way you like it," Sam tells him.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean lifts one hand to rub his face, pauses, and swaps to the one that hasn't been stuck with needles for the last little while.

Then he tries to paste on a sad excuse for a smile.

At least it's kinda easy to cover the failure by pretending his face still hurts.

"You're a lifesaver, man."

[gavemea_45]

"No reason you should have to put up with crappy hospital food when you can have crappy fast food instead."

He puts it all on the tray table and pushes it near enough for Dean to reach.

"Although maybe I should have brought you a salad. Get you eating healthy while I've got the chance."

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean reaches out and pulls the tray table a little closer, but doesn't reach for the burger.

Not yet, anyway.

"Yeah," he says instead, huffing out a breath, "That'll happen any day now."

[gavemea_45]

"Hey, we've seen stranger, right?"

He takes the chair at the side of the bed. It's familiar to him, by now.

"How're you feeling?" Much more quietly.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Itchy."

It's not really a lie.

Even if Dean attempts to fix his expression into one that says 'how do you think I feel, doofus?'.

"I fricking hate hospitals."

It's not even close to the highest thing on his list these days, though.

[gavemea_45]

"Yeah, well, let's see if we can keep you out of them in the future, okay?"

Sam casts a dark glance at the hallway before looking back at his brother.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean's smile is, for a second, crooked and really fucking tired.

"Good luck with that one."

He has a feeling it's not gonna work out.

But at least he picks up the burger.

[gavemea_45]

Sam shrugs.

"We're overdue for some."

[hopeitsworthit]

Just before he bites into his food --

"Pretty sure it's your turn this time."

Dean really, really means it.

[gavemea_45]

"My turn?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"What?"

Dean tries damn hard to look innocent.

Having food in his mouth helps.

"You're saying you don't want some luck these days?"

[gavemea_45]

"I said we could use some."

There's a beat of silence.

"Or maybe we'll just have to make our own."

[hopeitsworthit]

That tired expression flickers across Dean's face again.

He takes another bite of burger, chewing for a long time before swallowing.

But Sam's still got that look on his face, which means Dean's gotta say something.

"And how do you think we're gonna do that, Sammy?"

Ask Ruby, maybe? Or the goddamn angels that --

[gavemea_45]

"I'm still working on it."

His jaw's set in hard lines.

"But I'm pretty sure we can't go counting on any angels to help us out."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Yeah."

Dean's gaze is fixed somewhere over Sam's shoulder.

"Pretty sure they've done enough already."

[gavemea_45]

Sam's eyes narrow as he studies Dean's face.

"Yeah, well, I think we can agree on that."

A beat.

"Next time I see Cas--"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Don't."

Dean's response is quick, and hard, and just this side of --

Is that panicky?

Nah.

Couldn't be.

"Just -- "

[gavemea_45]

"Don't what?"

Sam shoves his chair back, casting a hard look toward the door again before turning back to Dean.

"Did that -- did he come in here? Did he do something else?"

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean snorts.

It's only a little bit painful.

"What, you think he had to?"

He'd gesture toward the entirety of his body, but some things Dean's not looking to think about.

Not today, anyway.

(As if he can avoid it.)

[gavemea_45]

"No, but -- he was hovering around in the hallway earlier," Sam informs him.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Yeah, well."

Dean looks away.

"Maybe he's afraid."

[gavemea_45]

No way that's good. No way in the world.

"Afraid of what?"

Come to think of it, he had been staring wide-eyed while Sam'd been taking care of Alastair, but surely it's not that, right?

[hopeitsworthit]

"I dunno."

That's a lie.

Or maybe it's Dean that's afraid.

"Pick somethin'. Pick anything."

Help Dean keep from thinking. Somehow.

[gavemea_45]

"Of whatever's killing the angels?" Sam guesses, but his watchful glance doesn't leave Dean's face.

[hopeitsworthit]

"I dunno," Dean says, halfway to helpless.

"It ain't like his face gives the game away."

[gavemea_45]

"No, but his words might."

He's trying hard not to show it, but seeing Dean like this has him shaken.

Telling Ruby that Dean had come back from hell with something broken inside him was one thing; this is worse.

Far worse.

"Dean. What is it?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"You think Dad'd be proud of us, Sam?"

He's not looking anywhere near his brother.

"Right here and now, I mean."

[gavemea_45]

"I don't know."

"You going to send me back?"
"I'm stronger than that now. Now I can kill."

"I think he'd know we were doing our best."

Not that Sam's best had ever been quite good enough for John when he was alive, but that's beside the point.

"Why?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Dad was exactly where I was."

Dean's still not looking at Sam, voice gone thin and humorless.

"He went through just what I did."

The screaming and the knives, and all the blood.

So fucking much blood.

"Only he never got down, never started opening 'em up like they deserved it."

He swallows, fist clenching.

"John Winchester never broke."

[gavemea_45]

"You can't know that."

Sam's response is both immediate and certain.

"Whatever Alastair said, you can't -- "

[hopeitsworthit]

"Cas said it, too. He told me, opened right up when I asked."

Now Dean is looking at Sam, eyes red-rimmed and tired.

It might've been better if he kept on looking away.

"This whole thing, Sam? This whole goddamned clusterfuck of an apocalpyse? I started it. I broke the first seal."

He's gonna be sick.

"It's my fault."

[gavemea_45]

"What?"

He can't have -- that can't be --

"No. How - it can't, you can't, how could you have even --"

[hopeitsworthit]

"It was supposed to be Dad, but he was too -- "

Too good? Too righteous?

Too strong, probably.

"He didn't get off the rack. He didn't start torturing souls."

Dean did.

"And that's what did it."

As if Dean couldn't hate himself more.

[gavemea_45]

"And Cas--"

He's rocked back, hard, frantically trying to work his way through this.

"He knew? The angels knew that - that if, if Dad, or you --"

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean's smile is humorless.

"Looks like, don't it? Looks like they knew Dad was a better man than me, too."

Otherwise they would've come for him, right?

[gavemea_45]

"Bullshit."

Something's tightening in the set of Sam's shoulders.

"They knew what could happen, and they left you there? They left him there? Fuck that -- even before, they let Lilith--"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Don't talk about her."

It comes out quick and harsh and close to breathless.

Not her. Not Lilith. Never Lilith.

He can't --

No.

"Who the fuck knows what an angel's thinking?"

[gavemea_45]

"--okay," he says, hastily. "Okay."



A beat of silence passes, while Sam fights down his impulse reaction.


"I doubt anyone does."

Another beat.

"You can't blame yourself, Dean. You can't. You didn't know."

[hopeitsworthit]

"I shouldn't have done it, Sammy."

He's not crying.

He's not.

"I should never have done it."

Even if he didn't know.

He should never have gotten down off that goddamn rack.

Not ever.

[gavemea_45]

"We'll fix it," he promises, trying not to notice the tears on Dean's face, knowing his brother wouldn't want him to.

"You didn't know. You couldn't have. If you had, you'd never have done it, I know you wouldn't. And we'll make it right. We will."

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean scrubs his hand over his face.

It's not really like hiding.

Really.

"You can't."

He sounds defeated when he says that.

"It's all on me, Sam. Because I started it. And I don't -- "

God, if only they'd left him in that goddamn room.

"I don't know how I'm gonna do it."

[gavemea_45]

Firm and sure:

"You don't have to do it alone."

Or at all, if Sam's got anything to say about it. Especially after seeing what this has done to his brother.

Besides, Alastair's dead now, at his hand. He's strong enough, or nearly so.

All he has to do is find Lilith, and it'll all be over.

"We'll figure it out. I swear to you, Dean, we'll find a way."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Yeah, well."

He huffs out a breath that, ten or so years ago, might even have been a laugh.

"Maybe this time it'll actually work out."

Yeah.

Right.

And he's got this bridge . . .

[gavemea_45]

Sam puts all the certainty that he can into his voice. If he believes it hard enough, maybe Dean will too.

"It will."




He'll make it work out.

Somehow.

Whatever it takes.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean half-smiles.

"Yeah, Sammy. I know."

Maybe that's what Dean's afraid of.

"Now shut up. I've got to finish this burger before it gets cold."

Even if it's probably already too late.

[gavemea_45]

He answers that with a small smile of his own, and settles more comfortably in his chair so Dean can eat in peace.

Maybe when the doctor next makes his rounds, they can see about getting some kind of update on when his brother can get out of here.

Until then, Sam's not going anywhere.