Chapter Text
Sam shot up in bed. Instinct took over, and he was stumbling towards his door even as Dean yelled his name a second time.
"Dean?" The lights in the hallway flickered. Sam made his way to Dean's room, only to realize it was empty, his brother's headphones lying abandoned on his bed. "Dean?"
Sam grabbed a sword off the rack in the library, gripping it with both hands on the hilt. Just as he stepped into the war room, a blast came from behind him and tiny pieces of rock salt pelted his back. Sam jumped and spun around to see Dean standing there in yesterday's clothes, wielding a shot gun.
"So?" Sam exclaimed more than asked, still breathing hard.
"Yup. Bunker's haunted."
"No."
"How can you be so sure?"
A glint of desperation entered his brother's eyes. "Cause I burned his body myself, okay? It's not him."
"Okay, so you cremated him." Without me. Because I was too busy hosting Gadreel. Because you wouldn't have to burn his body if I--if Gadreel hadn't killed him in the first place. "We cremated Bobby too, and he came back." Bobby. Now there was a painful subject. Sam wondered what their pseudo-father would think of them now.
Dean's voice brought Sam back to the present. "Sam, I'm telling you. This ghost? It's not Kevin!"
Suddenly, the coffee machine started beeping wildly. Sam and Dean slowly turned to face it. Sam stared at the machine apprehensively. "Kevin?"
The brothers flinched as Dean's coffee cup exploded.
Well, Sam thought, that settles that.
"Anything?"
Sam looked up at the sound of Dean's voice. "Eh, a couple of dings. A little EMF activity, but mostly silence."
"So, he's back in the veil."
"I guess so."
"Fumbling to break through."
"I mean, you got to figure it took Bobby months to make contact."
"Kevin's only..." Dean's voice faltered. "He's new at this."
"Right." Sam moved to get up from the table. "Alright, you're up."
Sam was walking down the hallway toward his room when he realized he'd left his phone in the kitchen. He was just outside the doorway when he stopped. Dean was talking. But Dean didn't know that Sam was anywhere near him, so that meant...
"Alright, I can't do this. Coffee-buzzing, bump-in-the-night crap." Dean moved around a bit, presumably to sit on the kitchen table.
"I got serious things to say to you, okay? And I'm not gonna say them to this." Silence stretched for a moment as Dean gathered his thoughts.
"Kevin, I'm sorry. You did not choose this life. You busted your ass, you lost everything, everyone you loved. And your reward? Getting killed. On my watch." Dean faltered, and Sam could practically hear his brother dragging his hand wearily down his face. "It was on me. It was my fault, and...and there's nothing I can do to make that right."
Dean's voice broke. "I am so sorry."
Sam swallowed. Dean was right about one thing. Kevin hadn't deserved what he'd gotten. Every time Sam closed his eyes, he could see his hand on Kevin's forehead, could see the life getting burned out of the prophet's body.
Dean had no idea what that felt like.
Sam was pulled from his thoughts as the lights flickered in the hallway. He made his way into the kitchen, finding Dean sitting on the table with his head in his hand. "Hey, did you see that? The--the lights were..." Sam's words trailed off when he noticed a wispy figure flickering in the corner.
"No, this is not happening. I didn't spend months struggling to break through the veil just to get stuck listening to Dean Winchester having a self-pity session. Like I didn't hear enough of those when I was alive."
"...Kevin?"
"She was held and tortured for a year because of me. Now that I found her, I'm not letting her out of my sight. She's my responsibility."
Sam looked at Kevin--or what was left of him, anyway--solemnly. "And you were ours." You were mine. "And we failed you." I failed you. "I--"
"Sam." Kevin looked up at him earnestly. "I know that wasn't you. Go put a blade in that asshat who possessed you and we'll call it square."
Sam nodded. A huge weight felt like it was lifted from his shoulders. Kevin doesn't blame me.
"Guys, thank you."
Dean looked Kevin in the eye. "You can thank us when we get you to heaven where you belong." Dean smirked, something Sam hadn't seen him do in a while. "Until then, enjoy your time with your mom. The, uh, uninterrupted, 24/7, no-escape quality time."
Kevin smiled and shook his head. "Dick." Kevin turned around to head up the stairs, then paused and turned around again. "Hey, before I go, will you guys promise me something?"
"Yeah." "Anything."
"Can you two...get over it?" Sam shifted. How did Kevin know? "Dudes, just cause you couldn't see me doesn't mean I couldn't see you. The drama, the fighting... it's stupid. My mom's taking home a ghost. You two... you're both still here."
Sam agreed. Of course he did. But as soon as Kevin left the bunker, Sam was making his way toward his room, leaving Dean alone in the war room. He did not want to have that conversation with his brother. Dean would just try to guilt trip him. But who was Dean to guilt trip anyone?
After all, it wasn't Sam who got Kevin killed.
Sam paused with his hand on the doornob. Maybe he should talk to Dean.
He pushed open the door.
Not today.