Notes:

What if Naomi's warning came a moment later?

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of their characters from CW. I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story. Any and all real persons and situations are purely coincidental.

==Warnings: Depictions of alcohol abuse, prescription medication abuse, marijuana use, non-consensual sex, date-rape, panic attacks, depression and thoughts of suicide. If any of these are triggers, please do not read.==

Chapter One

"Take me back to him now !" he yelled at the angel. Seeing the panic in his eyes, Cas complied and touched his forehead. Angel flight used to give him stomach issues, but he's so used to it now and it is instantaneous. He expected Cas to fly him to the very step of the church where he was prepping the ritual.

At least, that was what he was expecting instead of falling several meters from the ground within sight of the church. Both he and Cas fell into the forest floor, through the trees whose branches broke his fall, sort of at least. Landing, he let out a hiss as he hit the ground hard on his side. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder, which took the brunt of the landing. Somewhat dazed and perplexed, this had never happened before. Looking up, he saw the church was only less than quarter mile away.

Bearing through the pain, he stood up and looked around. Cas was getting up a couple feet away from him and looked confused as to what happened. "Cas! What the hell man?" He asked as he began limping toward the church. Sam was at the forefront of his mind, and if was going to complete the trial, he would die. God, he wished they knew that when this started this thing, otherwise there was no way he would've let Sam do it. It should have been him in the first place, and he would've done it even if he knew it would take his life. He was just a grunt with no future anyway. Sam though, he could've lived the apple pie life without him.

"Something interrupted my flight and threw us out. I'm sorry Dean." Cas said apologetically when he caught up with him.

"Turbulence?" he asked still heading to Sam.

Cas nodded, "it was like an energy wave, it pushed me back into this plane." Cas paused to look at him, "I can heal you Dean."

"Hurry it up then!" He just needed to get to Sam, to stop him. But a sinking feeling in his gut was telling him was too late. An energy wave near where Sam was doing the ritual with enough juice to cause Cas to crash land, not a good sign at all. But he wasn't going to think about this…he wasn't….no, just no. Feeling the familiar tingling when Cas heals him, he broke out into a run and he was at the church steps faster than you could blink. Swinging open the door, he stopped.

Sam was on the floor, not moving. Maybe Naomi was lying and the ritual just knocked him out. Walking slowly to his brother, his baby brother…he had to be asleep. There was no way no one can look that peaceful dead…because he ain't dead. "Sammy?" he croaked, hoping that Sam would wake up and flash that stupid grin of his. This was just a prank. He was pretending, yeah, that's it. Sinking to his knees beside the still unmoving form of Sam, he listened…waited. Crowley was saying something he thinks, but he's waiting…just waiting.

"I'm sorry Dean, but Sam is" Cas said beside him.

"Don't you say it, don't you dare." He looked at the angel with hope and fear. Angel. Heal. Cas brought Bobby back at Stull, he can…wake Sam up. "Fix him." he growled. Cas better do this, feathery bastard let him down to many times but not today. Not today.

Cas kneeled down beside him, "I cannot repair the damage the trials have done to his body Dean. This is beyond mine or anyone else's power to heal." He felt the angels hand on his shoulder, "Dean, I'm s"

"God dammit Cas! Don't say sorry like a broken record!" he shoved the hand away and stood up, pulling the angel by the lapels up. "I have one job! ONE! Keep Sam safe! So you better come up with a plan to bring him back." Letting go, shoving really, Cas back, he slumped back beside his brother. "C'mon Sam, wake up…" he tried to feel for a pulse, but there wasn't one. His body was warm, but he could tell it was cooling already.

Someone was sobbing, he was sure. It took him a minute to realize that it was him. He was crying because Sam was dead. And he somehow knew he wasn't coming back this time. So what if the gates of Hell is closed shut and all the demons locked away? The price was too high. He felt arms around him and he held onto the warm body like it was life raft. "It should've been me," he said to whoever was holding him.

Regaining some composure, he looked up. It was Cas who was holding him. The angel had his ever present stoic face but Dean could see in his eyes that he was just as broken by this as he was. Sam was his brother though, he raised that kid. He showed him how to take of himself, protected him from the worst his dad dished out, always charged in protecting him. And he failed. Again and again. This was it. Sam was good an gone. No deals to be made, no God to pray to…Sam was gone.

Crowley fidgeted in the chair, he forgot about that smug bastard. Getting up, he punched the very human Crowley in the face. Damn that felt good. "You tell me what happened." His vision was a bit red at the edges, but he was angry…and it was because of this sorry piece of a shit. If Crowley just let things be, not kidnapping prophets and being a douchebag, Sam would be alive now.

The former king spat out some blood and looked at him with the saddest most pathetic eyes ever. "He cured me…after that, there was this bright light after he said something from that paper. Then he was…gone."

"Dean…Naomi was telling the truth. I…don't know what to do." He looked over at Cas, who did indeed looked confused on what he should do. Well he knew what the winged disaster was no innocent. He was just as guilty as Crowley…and him.

"And what Cas, you need me to tell you what to do? Cause I don't care about your dipshit brothers and sisters. Mine's dead. And you freaking dragged me away from him. I could've been here, stopped this. But no, you had to do your own thing. AGAIN. Not listening to me. AGAIN. And look, Sammy's dead and it's your fault. So I don't care if you fly away, cause that's the only thing your good at."

Cas looked…hurt, shocked even. But he deserved the truth the son of a bitch. He looked down at Crowley, "and you. I should kill you right here and no for all the crap you pulled. Send you right back to hell where you belong."

"You can't. His soul has been cleansed." Cas said sadly. He glared back at the angel.

"You're telling me that last thing Sam did was wash his soul clean! That if I kill him he goes upstairs! HOW THE HELL IS THAT FAIR!" After all that Crowley did, and he gets to go to Heaven? He looked at his brother, that was like Sam. Always forgiving. He closed his eyes, trying to keep the anger down…but he didn't. It was the only thing that was keeping him from feeling any pain. Better to dish it out than take it.

But in the end of the day, Sam was dead. No one talked. No one dared to. Finally, he had enough. "Cas, take Crowley, I don't care…get him…get him out of my sight." He looked at the angel, who just nodded and before he touched the ex-demon, he told him, "and don't bother coming back." Cas froze and looked at him, and he was about to say something, but he cut him off. "Just…go."

Cas looked like a kicked puppy, but he didn't want the idiot angel here, not now. He needed to be…alone. And in a flutter of wings he was with the corpse of his dead brother alone.

He flew Crowley to some city, he wasn't really paying attention where he was going. Sam was gone, yes, but he looked so peaceful even in death. And he had closed the doors to Hell. All demons and damned souls were now locked in the pit. The Winchesters had once again done the impossible. At the cost of Sam's life though. Sam had to know this though, he didn't tell him or Dean, but he could see. The damage was irreversible, Sam knew it, he knew it. Doing this would take everything from it, and it had.

And now there was just Dean. The pain the man was feeling, he sensed it even though they were a world apart. Dean was breaking under the pain, the loss, the guilt. And he blamed it on him, and he knew he was the one to blame for this. If it wasn't for him starting this domino effect of Leviathan to tablets, Sam would be alive. The hunter was right, it was his fault. He should've listened to Dean, heard out his console, paid attention to what Dean was teaching him.

Leaving Crowley on the street, he first went to think for a bit in a remote mountain range. Dean was on the move, he sensed, probably heading back to the bunker. No matter what Dean said to hurt him, what hurt him more was the fact that Sam was gone. He was a friend to him as well, even though he wasn't as close to him as he was with Dean. There was nothing he could do to revive Sam. The trials permanently changed the makeup of his body. There was no way to fix his body; there was no way his soul could reside there any longer. Looking heavenward, he knew Sam had to be there with his family. He may not be able to bring him back, but he could at least still see him.

Before that though, he needed to take care of one thing. He flew up to Heaven. Naomi was right about Sam, albeit late, but still right. That also meant she was telling the truth about Metatron and his plan to expel the angels. And he had to be stopped. Flying to Naomi's office, he saw her…dead. Then there was a blade at his throat.

"About time you got here. Don't fight, or I will kill you." There were suddenly two other angels at his side that dragged him back into the chair.

"What did you do?" he asked as he was being strapped down.

"Naomi was not the only player on the board up here Castiel. Some of the others were more than happy to assist me in taking her down…and getting you."

He looked over to the two, recognizing them as Akiriel and Aron, "he means to expel the angels from Heaven! He's not going to…"

There was a cut at his throat and he felt his grace being forced out of him. It was incredibly painful, and all he could do was stay still in shock. "Hush Castiel. All they know, is that I'm going to give their leader, Itheriel, the power to rule Heaven. You on the other hand, I brokered that you should be exiled to Earth since you love it so much." Metatron healed the cut. "Good bye Castiel, and when you come back…tell me your story."

Dean was just pulling into the driveway of the bunker when he saw it. At first, it looked like falling stars…but the prismatic light and the people in the fire told him otherwise. Angels. They were falling from Heaven. Stupid son of a bitch, Cas must've went on his own again to stop Metatron. Obviously, he fucked up again. Turning his back on the sight, he opened the trunk and got out the shovel.

Climbing the small hill, he began digging in the little grove that when it was spring, was quite beautiful. This would be a good spot for Sam. The anger was still boiling in him, he was angry…and afraid. He was alone in the world. No family left. It should've been him to do this, it should be Sam digging a grave for him. If anyone could get out of the hunting life and make it out in the real world, it was Sam. Not him. He's gonna die ugly…and alone, and probably sometime soon. He can't cut it out in the real world, hunting was all he knew. Hunting was all he coulddo. Tried the family thing…almost got them killed. So not doing that again.

Once it was deep enough, he opened the door to the bunker. The lights and sirens were going off, but other than that, it was empty. Kevin made good on his word and disappeared again. So he was out a prophet too. Well good, if the kid stuck with them…him, he would end up dead soon enough. All his friends and family die ugly, not one had a natural death. Guess it's the curse of being Dean freaking Winchester. Grapping some premade coffins from the back room, he carried the thing back outside. Why the Men of Letters had coffins, he had no idea, but it was of nice construction and heavily warded.

No way was he going to burn Sam. Yeah, he should, but there was the long shot hope that maybe, just maybe, Sam might resurrect. Sam has died a couple of times already, and it never seems to stick, maybe this time he'll come back. So what if came with a kicker, they can deal with that. But as much as his head was trying to give him hope, his heart knew that once he laid Sam to rest, that was it. At the very least, Sam and Bobby gave him the courtesy of burying him as well.

Day was breaking as he finished filling in the hole. He placed a crude cross on the site, but he's going to get something way nicer for his brother. Sam deserved a freaking statute, 'cause he did save the world not once, but twice and closed hell. Man deserved a freaking holiday. Once he was done, he sank down at the foot of the grave.

"I'm sorry Sammy. I failed you. I failed all of you. Dad. Mom. Bobby. Cas. I couldn't keep you safe. I'm so…so sorry." Reaching for his flask, he began drinking it.