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Dean Winchester left the bunker when Crowley woke him up, but he didn’t leave with Crowley. He had to leave the bunker, while the wardings couldn’t stop him they bothered him too much. He was sitting at Bobby’s place, right over where the panic room used to be. He left a note for Sammy, before he left. ‘You’ll find me in the place you love and fear the most’. Sam would find him easily. He stood up, looking down at the ground, he used to think the panic room was the coolest thing on earth. He curled his lip as his boot pressed against the soft earth, the earth that buried Sam’s screams for help nearly a decade ago. If Dean was as smart as he was now, he’d understand that Sam in any form was his brother. In fact this Dean preferred that Sam.
He heard the Impala in the distance, Sammy was finally here. Sam walked up, keeping his distance. “Dean?” Same asked, hope and sadness in his voice, if Dean were human that would make him start to cry. “Sammy.” He said, his eyes flicking black. “Don’t freak out, it’s me, I just have some cool new features.” Sam shook his head looking like he was about to cry. “Don’t, I won’t let you cure me.” Sam looked at the ground and then up to Dean. “I respect that choice.” Dean gave Sam an odd stare, he thought he was going to try harder to convince him, then he looked down at the ground he was standing on, then he remembered Sam didn’t get that choice.
“When this place burned down, you probably felt some sort of relief, deep down in you. You were never gonna be locked in that panic room again. I didn’t give you the choice that I just got. But I’m going to give it to you now.” Sam sighed clearly in distress. “Dean, I can’t- I-I respect your decision but that’s not me. I can’t be a monster.” Dean picked up the whiskey bottle, pouring himself another glass. He couldn’t get drunk anymore, this was only really for the taste. “You say that, but am I a monster, I’m still Dean. Just with a little less morals. As you did it yourself, taking advantage of your inner demon in order to pursue the greater or whatever the fuck. You know little brother we have the power, between the two of us, to make all of hell bow at our feet.”
Sam looked a little less nervous, but he still kept his distance. Even as a demon it still kinda hurt, his little brother didn’t trust him. The feelings calmed down, he didn’t feel guilty for the things that he did. Thinking about Sammy, his little brother, the things that he did to him prodded at his mind worse. His brother was the ultimate being, what Azazel gave him was a blessing better than any tool a Hunter could ever use, and Dean destroyed that. He destroyed it with his stupid, being human is the righteous path belief. To be honest he resented being human.
“You wanna know the reason, why I picked here?” He asked, Sam didn’t answer, he seemed too choked up on himself. That made him glad, Sam would’ve spewed some shit about family and doing the right thing. “Because this- this spot right here where I’m standing, is right above that panic room. I think it would pretty spiteful on my younger self, my stupid ass, if we started that warpath, right here.” Sam let out a shaky breath, Dean’s offer tempted his inner cravings, but he was stronger than that. “I can’t, that’s no me anymore Dean. And Bobby, he wouldn’t have wanted this.” Dean practically growled. “Fine would it make you feel better if I picked the bunker or something?” Sam looked exasperated “Dean, what would make me feel better is if you just dropped the subject. I’m not going back on demon blood, I’m not using my powers.”
Dean’s head quirked up. “So you could use the powers without the demon blood?” Sam looked like a deer in a headlights. “No that’s not what I said.” Dean titled his head. “Then what did you say? What did you mean when you separated the two.” When Sam didn’t respond he kept digging. “I guess that makes you the stronger brother, I’m losing my human self on this power that I can feel underneath my veins but you choose to be weak when you can be one of the strongest beings in existence. I guess that choice makes you mentally tough. Or whatever the fuck. But you- you would make this so much easier. Winchester brothers, ruling Hell side by side, the iron fists that the throne really needs. Not after Lucifer’s freak show, and Crowley’s office he calls Hell.” He kept going, not giving Sam a chance to speak. “We can watch the ones who caused all that suffering burn. You know what? Fuck saving the people who they hurt, how about we punish the people who hurt in the first place? I know you want to, Sammy. I know you want to watch Metatron pay, I know you want to let that anger out that’s been boiling for centuries. That anger that I said was no good, well let it out. We can do all of that and more.” Sam looked a lot less sad, when Dean mentioned Gadreel, he looked angry, Dean wanted to continue, to get Sam riled up. To convince Sam to join his cause. “I told you that I would deal with it, but this is the new Dean. The Dean that sees as a partners, as brothers. I like the sound of that, don’t you? Hell will be our bitch, Metatron will fall, and anybody who stands in our way, they’ll be ours. And now that I know you don’t need the demon blood, well it just got a whole lot easier. So what do you say Sammy? After all that time we spent being the heroes for ungrateful sons of bitches who hunt us alive, all that time being subjected to those who used us as toys and pets, I’d say it’s time for us to take charge. Say fuck it to Dad’s idea of what a Winchester is, it’s time for us to become the leaders of our own story.”
Sam stood there, staring at the ground as Dean talked, he then looked up at Dean. Thinking, calculating, Dean couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in his geek brain. “We can be in charge of Hell?” Sam asked, well that wasn’t a speech about the good fight, or their Dad, or family. “You bet your ass we can, Sammy. They’ve directed us for too long, it’s time we take a stand against that.” Sam thought, the more he thought the more he leaned towards Dean’s idea. But he couldn’t could he? At the end of the day, Dean was Sam’s brother, and Sam at first wanted to take Dean home, to cure him. However, the more he thought about it, the better the offer seemed. The anger in the back of Sam’s mind floated around, wanting to be let out. Sam felt the power underneath his skin build up beneath his fingertips. The buzzing of the wind floated by his ears, and he saw the black tint in Dean’s eyes stronger than before. Sam felt it all, coming back to him. What he repressed for so long, what he fought for so long. He began to let it all go, and he felt free.
Sam laughed, he honest to god laughed and it took Dean by surprise. Sam turned to face Dean, the tears in his eyes having dried. The warm empathy, the broken stare, the glassy glaze, replaced by a stare that would make the world’s hottest blaze of fire run cold. All of the anger, all of the power, over 200 years of holding everything back, in the cage and on earth; he could finally let it all out. He didn’t have to hold on for Dean anymore. The righteousness that the Winchester name carried had died that day, being replaced with the clouds sulfur that they hunted for years. The next phrase that Sam spoke, Sam didn’t even know he felt this way until now. So it came as a surprise to Dean when Sam cocked his head and said, “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for years.” All with the rage of two centuries of violence and suffering, the calculation product of a wit conditioned like no other, and the calmness that Sam’s impressively maintained for years.
Sam walked up to Dean, and pulled him into a hug, the brothers embraced each other, they were free. Years of being held to the Winchester standard, gone, Heaven’s expectations out the window, and the strings Hell attached to them shattered like the grudge between the two that had been standing since the day Sam left for Stanford. Hell would be their bitch, Heaven would fear their name, and the Hunters that used to hunt them like prey wouldn’t stand a chance.
As the sounds of the Impala’s purr sounded off into the country roads that they drove down, Dean felt right, his hands on the wheel, his brother by his side, free of the pain and guilt of what he’s done, just flying off in the sunset. Things were right with his brother and partner in crime, that’s all he needed.
Another set of black eyes opened that night, and soon all of Hell's eyes would look to the King and his Knight. The Brothers, The Demons, The Winchesters.