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I Don't Matter

Summary:

Sam grapples with concern for his brother and old anger as the brothers encounter Gadreel again. The Mark starts taking its toll on Dean. 9x18.

Notes:

Hey guys! I've really been looking forward to writing this one. Sorry it took me so long to update (again). I’m going to try something new with the chapters, since I had difficulty organizing the POVs. Instead of doing one chapter Dean and one Sam, I’m going to write in bold over each part who’s POV it is. I don’t know if I’ll continue this style, so let me know what you think. I'm aiming to post two installments a week so I can finish this series before school starts, but we'll see how that goes. Hopefully I can really pack some angst into this one, tell me how I do!

Also, as usual, if it’s indented, it’s the character’s thought (unless it’s for emhpasis... you should be able to tell by the context).

Work Text:

Dean

Dean felt the water pour over him as he ran his hands through his hair. The shower did nothing to soothe the burning on his arm, to wash away the unexplainable feeling of wrongness that ached in his bones.

Eventually Dean stepped out of the shower, his muscles slightly less sore than they had been before. He went over to the mirror and wiped the fog from the glass, coming face-to-face with his reflection. He let out a small sigh. Dean saw a flash of black eyes and blood as he regarded himself, hearing his own voice echo in his head.

”You look into a mirror, and hate what you see.”

Dean averted his eyes from the mirror, glancing down at the Mark on his forearm. As he trailed his thumb across it, the high pitched whine in the back of his head grew just a little louder, his longing for the Blade—for blood—a little stronger.

Dean looked back up at himself. His mask slid seamlessly back into place.


Sam

Sam rifled through the files on the library table in front of him as he ended his call with Carlos, just another one of the many hunters he’d been asking for information. He looked up as Dean walked into the room, scrubbing his hand through his still-damp hair. Dean had cleaned up a bit, and his ever-present scruff from the last few weeks was finally replaced by his usual stubble, but he somehow looked older, more tired.

“Hey,” Sam greeted.

”Anything?” Dean asked, coming up to look at the files.

“Yeah. A dozen demon-related cases, people without souls acting out, but...”

”But no sign of Abaddon.”

”Right. Looks like she’s vanished.”

”Well, we just got to keep digging.” 

“Right,” Sam agreed. He faltered when he noticed Dean rubbing absentmindedly at the Mark. “You okay?” 

Dean looked up. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He adjusted his sleeve to cover the Mark. “Let’s get to work.”


Sam walked toward Gadreel, stepping from shadow to shadow sloppily, as if he had no idea the angel was there. He took out his phone and dialed.

”Cas, it’s Sam again. Call us. We need your help.”

Gadreel took the bait, smiling menacingly as he stepped out from behind a pillar right in front of Sam. 

“Hey, douchebag!” Dean yelled from the catwalk above Gadreel. The angel looked up just as Dean clicked open a lighter and dropped it onto the holy oil surrounding him.

“Remember me?” Sam asked, his voice filled with rage. Gadreel just glared back, not responding.

Sam and Dean managed to tie up Gadreel with little trouble, and soon stood facing him in one of the clearer areas of the abandoned factory.

”If this is like looking into a fun-house mirror for me, I cannot imagine what it is like for you,” Gadreel said to Sam.

Sam ignored him, trying to put a leash on his poorly-concealed anger. “How long have you been working for Metatron?”

”I will not talk, and you cannot make me.”

”Yeah?” Don’t be so sure, bastard.

”I have been you, Sam Winchester. Your insides reek of shame and weakness.”

Sam was angrier than he’d been in a long time. Dean had let Gadreel in, but it was the angel who lied, killed Kevin and used Sam. One jibe was all it took and he lost it, jumping forward and punching Gadreel in the face. He was ready to get a few more hits in, but Dean stepped between them, putting his hands on Sam’s chest to stop him.

”Sam! Sam. Come here.” 

Dean led Sam away to another part of the factory, where they could see Gadreel but he couldn’t hear them.

”He’s not gonna crack that fast,” Dean said.

”I know,” Sam said, frustrated with himself. “Maybe you could hack him like you and Crowley hacked me.” Strangely enough, the memory of the event didn’t make him angry like it used to.

”No, no, no, no. Crowley’s the only one who can do that, and I’m in no mood to call that dickbag. We need Cas.”

”Any word from him?”

”No. I tried him again. He hasn’t called, he hasn’t texted. I turned on the GPS on his phone. He’s still in the same town where we talked to him last.”

”What the hell?” Cas had told them that he would go check out angel massacres in a nearby town. Why hadn’t he moved?

”I don’t know. You got to go find him.”

”Wait, what?” There was no way Sam was leaving Dean alone with Gadreel.

”You’re too close to this, man.”

”And, what, you’re not?” Gadreel had betrayed Dean, and even if he hadn’t, he’d messed with Sam. As strained as their relationship was these days, Sam still knew that nothing made Dean angrier than that.

”We’re not at this five minutes, and you’re already going Liam Neeson on his ass. I got this.”

Sam nodded. Dean was probably right, and his brother hadn’t been the one to explode on the angel. Dean had a talent for remaining professionally distant when...extracting information...so Sam would trust him with this one. Besides, Cas might need his help.

Sam left the factory, heading towards Cas’ last known location. He had an angel to find.


 Dean

Dean gripped the angel blade, walking back to where they had Gadreel chained up. He faced away from the angel.

After a few moments of silence, Gadreel spoke up. “So he acts tough, and you show kindness. Is that how this works?”

Dean turned around, his eyes dark as his facade of indifference was replaced with cold, dark rage. “No. See, I don’t care whether you talk. You’re gonna pay for what you did to him, and Kevin.”


 Dean drew his angel blade across Gadreel’s arm. The angel screamed, his face and clothes already covered in blood. Dean hadn’t taken this much pleasure out of torturing someone since—well, since Hell. He found that didn’t bother him, though. If anyone deserved this, it was Gadreel.

Dean cleaned the blood off his blade as he addressed the angel. “Word around the campfire is, you let the snake into the garden, ruined it for all humanity.”

Gadreel struggled to catch his breath. “I set them free. I loved humanity!” 

“Well, you sure got a funny way of showing it, asshat. Now, look, you tell me about this ‘getting back into heaven’ crap and I’ll end this quick. Otherwise, you can sit here and rot in those chains forever. Up to you.”

”All your talk, all your bluster...you think you are invincible. The two of you against the world, right?”

Dean turned his back to the angel. “Damn straight.”

”You really think Sam would do anything for you?” 

Dean closed his eyes briefly. Not anymore. His walls came back up as he turned around to face Gadreel. “Oh, I know he would.”

“I have been in your brother’s body, Dean. He would not trade his life for yours.”

”Well, thanks for the rerun, pal. Sam’s already told me all that crap. Hell, he’s told me worse,” Dean responded.

”He told you that he has always felt that way?” Dean stared at the angel blankly. “That he thinks you are just a scared little boy who’s afraid to be on his own because daddy never loved him enough? And he is right, isn’t he? Right to think you are a coward, a sad, clingy, needy—“

Dean’s fist crashed into Gadreel’s face as his anger erupted. The angel spat blood from his mouth. “Keep it up!” Dean yelled.

”—pathetic bottom-feeder who cannot even take care of himself, who would rather drag everyone through the mud than be alone, who would let everyone around him die!”

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. Not just the words dripping like poison from Gadreel’s mouth, but the ring of unbearable truth each of them held. He lauched toward the angel, swinging his blade down to stab Gadreel in the chest. But just before the weapon touched him, he stopped. Gadreel’s eyes were closed, like he was waiting for the final blow. Dean stepped back.

Gadreel opened his eyes, wide with panic. “No. Do it. Do it! Kill me!” 

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Dean said, his voice cold and menacing. “That’s what that whole speech was about? You’re not afraid to die, are you? You’re afraid to be left in these chains forever. Well, you can sit here and rot, you son of a bitch.”

Dean walked away from Gadreel, taking the angel blade with him. 


 Dean wiped grime from the bathroom mirror. Gadreel’s words echoed in his head as the high-pitched whining of the Mark grew louder.  

”Coward...pathetic...would let everyone around him die.”

Dean splashed water from the sink onto his face, trying to clear his head. The whining grew louder, and the Mark started burning and throbbing on his arm. He looked up to meet his reflection in the mirror once more.

Screw it.

He grabbed the angel blade from the sink where he’d left it and stalked back to Gadreel, his blood boiling in his veins.

Then all he saw was red.


 Sam

Sam pulled up to the factory, rushing to get out of the car. Dean hadn’t answered any of his calls. Something was wrong. 

He entered the room where Gadreel had been chained up, but his chair was empty and there was blood pooling on the floor. 

“Dean?” Sam called, looking around wildly. “Dean!” He saw his brother on the other side of the room, slumped motionless  against the wall. Sam rushed over to him just as Dean began to stir. 

“Dean. Hey! Are...are you okay?” Sam asked worriedly as he crouched next to his brother. He realized distantly that Dean’s right hand was covered in blood.

”Yeah. Yeah, you gotta stop asking me that,” Dean said, sounding exhausted and out of breath.

Only once I start believing your answers, Sam thought. “I’ve been calling you. I mean, why didn’t you, uh...”

Suddenly Sam noticed Gadreel, who was lying on his side near Dean, bloody and unconscious.

”He won’t talk,” Dean growled.

”I figured.”

Dean looked desperately at Sam. “He wanted to die, and I was gonna kill him. I was. But then I stopped ‘cause I know we need him to talk.”

”Dean, listen. Metatron has Cas. He’s offering up a trade.”

Dean paused for moment, still not completely there. “We can’t trust Metatron.”

”I-I know that. Obviously. But look, this is the first time we’re gonna know for sure where Metatron is. Let’s take Gadreel to the meet-up, make the exchange, and then trap Metatron.”

As he was talking, Sam belatedly saw that Dean had yet to remove his hand from where it rested on his forearm, covering the Mark. 


 “You sure you’re all right?” Dean asked Cas. It was a fair question; after all, the angel had spent several hours as Metatron’s captive.

 “Yes. Are you? There’s something different about you.”

Dean reached up to pat Cas on the shoulder with his right hand. “I’m fine.”

Sam watched as Cas grabbed Dean’s wrist and flipped his arm over, then pushed up the sleeve of his coat to reveal the Mark. The angel’s eyes darkened as he stared at Dean. “What have you done?”

Dean yanked his hand back. “It’s a means to an end.”

”Dammit, Dean,” Cas said.

”Look, you find heaven, you drop a dime. Meantime, I got a knight to kill,” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car, dropping into his seat and slamming the door closed.

“Be safe out there,” Sam said to Cas.

”You, too.” Sam reached to grab the door handle, but just before he could open it, Cas called, “Hey, Sam.” Sam looked up. “You keep an eye on him.”

Sam nodded and got into the car. You know I will.


Sam watched Dean worriedly as they drove through the night. Dean either didn’t see him or didn’t care, staring ahead at the road with a disturbing intensity. He could still see specks of Gadreel’s blood on his brother’s knuckes.

”It’s a means to an end.”

Who’s end, Dean? Abaddon’s?

Or yours?