Sleep On It

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Dean's continuous tossing and turning had caused the sheets to tangle tightly around his body, encasing him like a mummy in its bandages; his comfortable memory-foam mattress doing nothing to sooth his flayed emotions.

He couldn't imagine anything that could.

Sam's words in the kitchen had floored him, drained all his energies and left him emptier than a hollowed out pumpkin whose insides had been scraped out with a blunt knife.

He pulled at the sheets, impatiently trying to unravel them, their hold a cotton prison, but he fell back exhausted.

Perhaps he was better just leaving them be, he had the impression that they were the only things holding him together at the moment.

He closed his eyes hoping that sleep would take him and allow him to forget Sam's words but he knew it was a false hope; they would be impressed in his heart in letters of fire for ever.

"If the circumstances were the same I wouldn't have saved you."

The words had been hammering away at him since Sam had gotten up and walked out of the kitchen, leaving Dean to stare at his little brother's back in shock.

x

He sighed into the sweaty sheets.

While the emotional part of him was devastated, he could feel the logical part of his mind scolding, whispering that he should use rationality and not let himself be transported by his emotions.

Remember, it murmured, remember Death's words about not interfering with the natural order; that the universe couldn't condone the Winchesters' meddling; their predisposition of saving each other at any cost.

Yet, Dean mused, Death for all his warnings had kept a benevolent eye on the Winchesters, had helped at times, given them advice.

He hadn't seemed all that annoyed with him and Sam, despite their meddling, almost as if he had a soft spot for them..

x

He finally wrestled an arm from the swaddling sheets and passed a hand over his face and hair.

What was he going to do? Should he and Sam still hunt together? If Sam was on-board with 'when your time comes you die'; could he depend on Sam to have his back as fervently as he once had, when Sam would have done anything to keep Dean alive.

Maybe it was time for them to go their separate ways, hunt alone, find other partners or in Sam's case, give up hunting altogether.

His little brother had done it before, he could do it again. He was still in time to go back into the education system, become a lawyer, find a wife, a couple of kids, have the kind of life he'd always wanted.

x

Although Dean's heart was in shreds, his love for his brother was unchanged.

Maybe it was better they separated for Dean knew he would never be able to stand by and just let Sam die in his arms; he would always try to save him. Looking out for Sammy was a part of him, ingrained into his flesh and bones, and he couldn't turn it off no matter what Sam wanted.

x

Standing by while Sam died was alien to him, especially as he had the remedies of the supernatural world at his fingertips. What was the point of being an expert in the occult if they couldn't use it to help each other.

Was it really any different to a surgeon using a scalpel to operate and save a patient. If the natural order was so important, then why did doctors get to interfere and save people?

He thought back to the saga of Star Trek where it was a running theory that any technology that couldn't be explained to less advanced races was looked on as magic.

Well the supernatural was his 'technology' so why not use it to save himself and his brother when necessary?

x

Dean just didn't know what to think any more.

Maybe Sam was right; making deals had a long history in the Winchester family, and had never brought anything good.

He had been there when his young mother had kissed the lips of her possessed father to bring John back to life.

John Winchester had done the same thing for him; then came Dean's turn.

He had sold his soul for Sam, the thought of an entire existence without his beloved little brother by his side unsupportable to him.

Sam had tried everything to get Dean out of his deal, even contemplating transforming them both into zombie monsters to avoid it; but to no avail. Dean had gone to hell and Sam with the promise of revenge on Lilith had fallen into the capable hands of the bitch Ruby!

Sam too had ended up in hell just to be pulled out without his soul by the ambiguous Castiel and paired up with his grandfather Samuel; he too with his own deal to get his daughter Mary back.

The Winchesters must have deal-making ingrained into their DNA, or maybe they were just suckers where family was concerned, Dean mused.

x

x

Dean had opened his heart to Sam in the Church; his brother had listened, renounced closing the gates of hell and dying in the process; though his little brother had been ready and willing to take that last step.

He had been at his wit's end when Sam lay dying in that hospital bed, and he had grasped at the opportunity offered to him by Ezekiel. He had known what he was doing was unethical, but just like that day at Cold Oak, he couldn't let go. Couldn't let Sam die.

Was it selfishness? Whatever the reason, saving Sam had brought them to this.

x

Dean was so tired, tired of fighting, tired of everything. Thankfully Sleep took pity on him and drowned him in oblivion.

"Mmm," Dean hummed in ecstasy as the delicious mouthful of pizza titillated his taste buds.

"Good, isn't it, " the dry voice of his table partner commented.

Alarmed Dean halted in mid-chew and looked around him. Last he remembered he was asleep in the bunker not in a busy pizzeria. Huh, he must be dreaming.

"Not quite,Dean," Death supplied. "You're still in your bed, at least your body is. Let's just say I'm sitting here with your soul."

"What the hell do you want? I've got enough on my plate without having you messing around in my head without permission," Dean gripped; his anger at being dragged around like a rag-doll by supernatural beings rising to the fore.

Death shot him a glare which once would have had Dean trembling in his boots, but he no longer had any fear of the Grim Reaper. Too much water had passed under the bridge. If Death wanted to reap him, he was more than ready.

He smirked.

"Sorry man, but you're gonna have to do better than that. Dean Winchester's all grown up now and you don't scare me any more than a roach does. Whatever you want, I'm not interested. Though I have to say I appreciate the pizza."

Dean made to push back the chair and stand up, but he found his ass firmly glued to the seat.

Death raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry that the feeble hold I had over you has disappeared, Dean. But in a way I'm glad you're no longer afraid of me. It puts us on a more... equal... footing; that is if anything can be equal between myself and the ant that you are."

Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

"What do you want? Get on with it. I don't like being separated too long from my body. I'm kinda attached to my ass."

Death finished chewing the bite of pizza, and patted fastidiously at his mouth with the napkin.

x

"I came for Sam you know, in person, when he died in the hospital. We had a brief conversation before the angel you sent turned up and 'persuaded' him to accept a possession he didn't quite realise he was signing up for."

Death was aware of how Dean's attention spiked, the mention of Sam's name focusing his gaze on the hollow-cheeked being.

"Your brother was willing to come with me, willing to end his corporal life. Sam deserved some peace, a place to rest, to be with his memories. He was all set to go, no regrets then when you showed up, he accepted what was on offer; to come back to you, turn his back on his heaven because you called to him."

"Huh, well things have changed since then," Dean grunted. "Sam's just after chewing me out. Must be he's thought it over and decided he should have accepted your offer after all."

x

Death cocked his head.

"I have existed since time immemorial, yet I have still to run across two such as you Winchesters. Sam lashed out at you because he is afraid. He feels unworthy, evil; he wants to die, to purge the world of his presence.

He has only ever received hate and loathing most of his life. He was infected with demon blood, pursued by Azazel to become the leader of his demon army.

He blames himself for your suffering in Hell and for listening to Ruby, drinking her blood and freeing Lucifer.

He is still considered an abomination by the angels, even by Castiel, though he no longer voices his aversion as he once did. Do not trust him, Dean. He is far too easily manipulated.

it was his fault as much as Sam's for freeing Lucifer, when he allowed Sam to escape from the panic room and go to the Church. He knew that Lucifer would be freed. He just omitted to tell you."

x

Dean gazed at Death in surprise. "What the hell are you saying ? That Cas let Sam out of the panic room. Why would he do that?"

"Ah," Death answered. "I'm surprised you didn't know, Dean. Heaven wanted the Apocalypse and Sam had to fulfil his role."

Dean lay back in the chair. "That son of a bitch and I are going to have a little talk when I get back. He made sure not to tell me that little detail."

"There seem to be many things you do not know Dean. Did you know for example that the message you sent Sam from the green room was completely altered to encourage Sam to go through with freeing the devil.

Perhaps if your true message had been received by your brother, he might have had second thoughts"

x

"What?"

x

"I believe I have been clear, Dean. The message you sent was not the one Sam received. The angels altered it to beat down Sam's already low self-esteem. He believed you thought him a monster and so had nothing to lose."

Dean felt the tears coming to his eyes.

"Anything else you want to share with the class, to make me feel even more of a douche"

There are many more," Death intimated enigmatically. "But they are irrelevant to our little discussion.

The point is your brother feels unworthy to live. I predict it will not be too long before I come to reap him again, and this time for good. When the next monster tries to tear him to shreds, he will not fight it more than necessary. He will accept his fate.

Why do you think he said those words to you last night? He wants you to break away; to feel less for him; to love him less, so that when the time comes you will let him go without a fuss, thinking that what you had together is broken.

So, if you want your brother to live you must convince him of his worth.

Well, Dean, it's always nice to speak with you, but I have other duties to attend to."

X

X

Dean awoke, still tight in the hold of the sheets, Death's words echoing in his ears.

There was nothing he could do about the past but maybe it wasn't too late to change the future. He managed to free himself of the sheets, slipped silently into Sam's room and picked up his phone.

He made his way to the kitchen and pulled up the messages, tinkering around until he found the oldest one on file. He pressed the button and listened to his own voice saying words he had never pronounced.

" Listen to me, you bloodsucking freak. Dad always said I'd either have to save you or kill you. Well, I'm giving you fair warning. I'm done trying to save you. You're a monster, Sam - a vampire. You're not you any more. And there's no going back."

Dean swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. It was just like Sam to have kept it, used it to torture himself.

So Death hadn't been lying; he believed him about Castiel too. Dean had never been sure of the angel, but he was going to be very careful from now on. Castiel had never been truthful with him, but two could play at that game.

x

He was still lost in his thoughts when Sam appeared in the door-way.

"Why did you take my phone, Dean? " he asked tiredly, dark shadows under his eyes.

Dean pressed the button and the message repeated itself.

Sam's face blanched from pale to white as he jumped forward to snatch the phone from Dean's hand, but Dean was faster and he gripped his younger brother's arm.

"Look at me Sam," he ordered.

Sam's eyes reluctantly latched on to Dean's green ones.

"I...DID...NOT...SEND...THIS...MESSAGE," he enunciated slowly so there would be no mistake.

Sam frowned. "What...but.."

"I'll rephrase that," Dean grimaced. "I did sent you a message but it wasn't THAT.

I can't remember the exact words but I remember saying I was pissed and I owed you a beat-down; that I shouldn't have said what I did; that whatever happened we were still brothers and however bad it got that didn't change. That I was sorry.

Someone, and I'm betting the angels, changed it. I would never have said that to you Sammy, even if I have said a lot of crap to your face that I never meant. It was just me taking my anger out on the person nearest to me, and unfortunately you got all the backlash."

x

Sam slid slowly into the chair next to Dean. His big brother was sincere. Dean was telling the truth.

He huffed ironically. Sam Winchester, duped for the umpteenth time.

"I was having doubts back then, Dean," he explained slowly. "I wasn't sure about what I was doing but when I got your message, it pushed me over the edge. I had lost your love. You thought me a monster. I had nothing to live for any more."

"Listen, man It's all in the past now," Dean said as he cancelled the message. "We can't do anything to change it. It's not your fault man. Everything was stacked against you; against us. We didn't have a chance."

He wasn't going to tell Sam about Castiel. It could wait. Dean knew, and that was all that mattered for the moment.

x

"Listen Sammy, I know I've said and done things to hurt you; well, we both have," he qualified as Sam stared at him, doubtful.

"But we're both still alive, man, and we can change things; make them better. What you said last night, about not saving me if you had been faced with the same set of circumstances?

Maybe you were right. Maybe I should have let you die, I dunno. But I didn't and both of us are still here to bitch at each other.

Sam, you know I'm not one for emotional show-downs but I want to say something I've never said to you except when you were too much of a kid to remember it. You're my brother, Sammy. I love you, man and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you.

What I said in the church I meant every word of it. There is nobody I would put before you, nobody.

Is that selfish? Maybe it is. But that's how I feel about you.

If you want to take your stuff and go, or if you want me to go, I will. Whatever you want Sam, is fine with me."

X

Sam bit his upper lip until a drop of blood fell from the wound.

If he spoke he would burst into tears and he didn't know if he would be able to stop.

"Don't go, Dean. Don't leave me, ever," was all he managed to stutter before he pushed back the chair and ran to his room.

Dean looked down at Sam's phone.

He knew his emo little brother needed time to put his thoughts in order, but tomorrow they would talk again.

They were brothers. They would fix this.

X

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