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Sam could tell before he even opened his eyes that he slept hard. He could feel the grittiness of his eyes, the dry cotton feeling in his mouth like he’d been sucking on Q-tips. He scrunched his nose and wiggled his tongue back and forth trying to gather some saliva to wet his lips. Sam sighed heavily before stretching on his bed and letting his eyes slowly open to adjust to the dimness of his room. He was confused briefly to see his door was open, the fluorescent lights in the hall the only source of illumination until he heard the scuffle of booted feet next to his bed.
“Sammy?” Surprised, Sam turned to see Dean’s silhouette in the pale light. His brother looked haggard, eyes sunken with dark circles underneath. His flannel was tossed at the foot of Sam’s bed and he could clearly see the nervous bouncing of his knee as Dean leaned forward. “Hey Sammy, how you feeling?” Sam scrunched his eyes closed again for a second before trying to sit up. He groaned at the sore muscles and settled for rolling slightly to face his brother instead.
“Like I went ten rounds with a wendigo and lost. What happened?” Dean licked his lips before glancing away nervously. Little warning bells started to go off in Sam’s mind and he tried again to sit up, ignoring the twinges of pain in his abdomen. “Dean wha—“. Little flashbacks of the night before flooded his mind as the sleepiness slowly trickled away. He remembered the taste of his tea, the way Dad had looked at him—the words he spewed before his brother and mom—
Sam let himself collapse back down onto the bed, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling in a blank stare. Dean stayed silent at his bedside, his own gaze drilling holes into the floor.
“Look Sam—uh, you’re gonna be alright. Cas showed up and he was able to get rid of the poison. So, yeah—” Dean sounded awkward, Sam felt awkward—the whole room smelled of an uncomfortable situation and Sam just wished he could go back to sleep. He waved away Dean’s words without looking at him.
“Yeah man, that’s good. Remind me to thank Cas—glad uh—glad are things back to normal. So, Dad’s gone then?” Out of the corner of his eye Sam could see Dean nod his head slowly before he stood and patted his hands on the back of his jeans.
“Yeah, yeah Dad’s gone. Listen, you’re awake now—showed proof of life and all that, so I’m gonna head off—been a long night. Try to get some more sleep ‘K Sammy?” Sam felt Dean lightly pat him on the shoulder as he shuffled past and out of the room. He let his eyes fall closed, breath escaping him in a heavy sigh. A tight, burning pain was radiating from his chest as he remembered what their father had done last night.
‘He’s a monster Dean, an abomination ever since yellow eyes got his disgusting blood in him, he was destined for Hell.’
‘—Done nothing but cause this family pain and suffering—’
The usually calm solitude of his room felt suffocating and without really thinking about it, Sam heaved himself off his bed, ignoring the protests of his sore body and was carefully making his way towards the kitchen. The halls were quiet, his labored breath echoed in his ears as he leaned against the wall carefully, supporting his shuffling steps as he slowly passed Dean’s then Mary’s rooms. He could see the faint flashes of light under his mother’s door, the muffled noises of some sort of show playing to help disguise his passage. He was sure Dean was already fast asleep, sitting vigil next to a dying brother’s bed could take a lot out of you.
The only lights on in the kitchen were a few push lights Dean had installed a while back. Softer spots of glow to keep them from blinding themselves when they would first stumble in, in the mornings. The clock over the sink told him it was late, almost late enough to be considered early and he wondered how long he had been out for.
He was running on autopilot grabbing a mug and the kettle before he realized what he was doing. The box that held his loose-leaf tea felt heavy in his hands and Sam stared in detached wonder for a moment as he started to tremble slightly.
‘An abomination—’ He felt the box slip from his fingers and winced at the loud clattering noise, tea leaves scattered across the floor and Sam had to swallow heavily a few times to push back the urge to vomit. He stared at the floor, eyes blinking rapidly to try and stave off the tears that were gathering. He could feel his breath speeding up as the tightness in his chest grew more restrictive, the lights were starting to dim at the edges of his vision and he took a small step backwards while clenching a fist over is heart.
Freak, abomination, boy with the demon blood, monster, monster, monstermonstermonster
A warm hand grabbed him tightly by the elbow and turned him until he was staring into a pair of bright blue eyes. He could see his friend mouthing something at him but couldn’t hear over the roar in his ears. Cas gripped him tightly and shook him, his eyes wide with worry. Slowly the sound of Cas’s voice started infiltrate past the running mantra in Sam’s mind.
“-am, Sam! Sam list—have to—Sam!” He felt another hand rest gently over his heart from behind as a solid chest pressed itself firmly against his back.
“Mmy—Sammy—breathe for me little bro—c’mon Sammy—“. He could feel the gentle swirling of a thumb over his shirt as the hand did slow, steady compressions against his pounding chest. Slowly Sam could feel the tightness ease in his chest, the roaring settling down to a low hum. He realized belatedly that tears were dripping off of his face and at some point, he had bit his tongue hard enough to taste blood in his mouth. Cas was nodding slowly, his hands running up and down Sam’s arms causing pins and needles. The hand—Dean—was rubbing slowly over his heart, words of encouragement soft in his ears.
“That’s it Sammy, just breathe—we gotcha little brother, it’s okay—”
“Good Sam, that’s good. Can you hear us? It’s just me and Dean—you’re alright—”. Sam shook his head and closed his eyes so he could stop seeing the sadness reflected in his friend. He felt like his legs were about to give out under him and he tried to pull away from the warmth of his family.
“Easy little brother, easy we gotcha—” Sam shook his head again more violently and struggled from their grip.
“No! Stop it—lemme go—” The two released him, hands still hovering to catch him in case he fell. He squeezed out from between them and paced to the other side of the kitchen, green and blue eyes tracking his movements with worried gazes. Sam felt frantic under his skin and he rolled his shoulders a few times as he paced. “I’m such an idiot—I should’ve—should’ve known better. He was right, he was always right. Our history just proves it. You should have just—just—”
“Just what Sammy? Let you die?” Dean took a slow step forward, hands raised palm up towards his brother. His eyes sparkled for a moment in a fierce anger before simmering down to hurt disbelief. “I can’t let you die Sammy, you know that. You’re my brother—no you, no me, remember?” Sam pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes hard before raking his fingers through his hair.
“No Dean—not this time. Dad saw his journal; he saw what I did. He knew what I was before we even knew yellow eyes had a name—the demon blood, the deals, the betrayals—I don’t—I shouldn’t--” Sam seemed to deflate slightly as the adrenaline of his freak out slowly tapered off. “You really should have killed me when you had the chance—none of this would be happening right now if it wasn’t for me.” Sam ignored the anger that was starting to flare back up in his brother’s eyes. He turned towards the counter and leaned against it heavily. The ticking sound of heating water filled the tense silence around them, the spilled tea forgotten on the floor. Sam turned his head slightly, keeping his gaze locked on the scattered leaves.
“You should have just let me stay dead in Cold Oak—” There was a loud crack and the sound of splintered ceramic as Dean chucked Sam’s tea mug against the far wall, a guttural noise ripped out of his throat but Sam stood impassively as Dean tried to reign in his anger. Surprisingly, it was Cas that spoke next.
“You’re wrong Sam—nothing would have changed for the better if you stayed dead.” Sam gave a deadpanned smirk before shaking his head.
“Dean would have never gone to Hell—the righteous man would have never split blood and the apocalypse would have never even gotten off the ground. Tell me how that’s not for the better.”
“Because without you Sammy—I would have either died a nameless hunter shortly after, or lived long enough to make it to Hell on my own merit—” Sam turned to face Dean, his eyebrow raised in incredulous disbelief. Dean just shook his head before crossing his arms and leaning against the metal table. “It’s true—those years while you were at Stanford—I was different Sam. I was someone I didn’t recognize—I was turning into Dad. If you hadn’t stayed—hell, if you hadn’t of kept coming back—It’s not a long shot to think I wouldn’t earn my own place on the racks, even without a demon deal to grease the way.” Dean turned red rimmed green eyes towards his brother with a pleading expression.
“Sammy, you’re everything good about our family. No listen to me—” Sam started to scoff and turn away, but Dean stepped over quickly and boxed his face with his hands, forcing Sam to meet his eyes. “You have always, always, fought to see the good in every monster we met. Remember Amy? Lenore? Dad and Me—we wouldn’t have hesitated for a second before killing them. And yeah I know, I messed up and took out Amy—I won’t ever be able to apologize enough about that, but you—you baby brother.” Dean shook his head a second, eyes widening in a weird sense of awe as he stared at his brother.
“You will always be the most compassionate man I ever know. It was you that saved the world from Lucifer—it was you that took on the trials and saved Bobby from Hell—Sammy—it was you that thought I was still worth saving from the Mark and being a Demon. You may have made mistakes, but so did I and so has Cas and Dad and Mom—you’re human Sam, that’s what being human is.” Sam’s mind wandered for a second to think about the increasingly familiar and yet annoying feeling of tears on his cheeks as he took in his brother’s words. He raised one of his own hands to press it more firmly against his cheek as he leaned into the contact slightly. He took in a shaky breath before closing his eyes.
“But Dad—
“Nu-uh baby brother—Dad nothing. He was wrong, so very, very wrong. He was wrong then—and he’s wrong now. If our Dad—our Dad could see you now—” Dean gave a slight huffy laugh while shaking his head in wonder. “Our Dad would be so proud of you Sammy—that man that came—that was still the broken commander with nothing but fire and vengeance in his heart. He wasn’t our Dad”. Sam let his eyes open, his watery gaze met his brother’s before glancing over at Cas behind him.
“Sam—you have been, and always will be, one of the strongest humans I will ever have the pleasure of calling friend. There is no further doubt in any mind that matters, that you are a Righteous Man.” Sam could feel the tension slowly seep out of his bones and he sagged further onto the counter he was leaning against. He sniffed hard and turned his gaze back towards the floor. They stood in the quiet for a few minutes, allowing Sam the illusion of privacy to reign in his emotions.
It was hard listening to them try and justify his faults. Hearing of what they called good deeds when all Sam could see were the mistakes he made to get him there. This would always be a point of argument between the three and Sam could see them years from now—gray and retired—still bickering as they drove the Impala at their leisure, Cas in the back watching with a fond smile as he guided them home. Sam sniffed again and let his eyes roam across the mess at their feet. A small spark of little brother humor wormed its way out of the dark.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to drink tea for a while—it looks like a potpourri bag exploded in here—". That earned him a startled snort laugh from Dean and a brief look of confusion from Cas before he saw the mess Sam was staring at. The slow smile on his face made Sam’s heart feel a little lighter and he straightened up slightly, letting Dean’s hands fall from his face.
“Thanks guys—sorry fo—”
“No Sam, no apologies—there is nothing for you to apologize for.” Dean looked at him seriously for a moment until Sam nodded and he relaxed just a bit further. “Now, I actually came in here with a hankering for some hot chocolate—Cas you in?” Carefully Sam was guided to a stool as Cas hummed affirmation and he watched as the two puttered around the kitchen with fluid ease.
There was still a slight tightness in his chest, the ghostly whispers of his father’s words lingered in the back of his mind—but the warmth of his family around him soothed his frazzled heart. For the moment, Sam ignored the past and pushed away the lingering Michael threat. His brother was with him and alive—Mary, Cas, and Jack were safe—his old dreams of being a lawyer with a picket fence and a blonde haired wife were long tossed to the side and this may not be anyone’s true definition of happiness, but this was home—and it was his—
Time travelling Fathers be damned.