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The walls seemed threatening as I stood facing my little brother in the dingy, abandoned restaurant. I could see Sam’s shocked face as he looked at me as I told him about the threat I would cause, and what I had already done. If the Mark of Cain was removed now, it would mean disaster. Death had told me of the Darkness, a pre-Biblical force that could destroy the world, big surprise there. The Archangels had fought it back and God had imprisoned it inside the Mark, which he had given to Lucifer. The Mark started to make Lucifer evil, and it eventually caused him to fall, so Lucifer gave it to Cain…. And I think you know the rest.
So here we are, in this abandoned restaurant. I had gotten Rudy killed, and as I looked at my face in the mirror in that motel room, I knew what I had to do. I knew Sam was going to come find me, so I left the Impala to him. I hadn’t seen Sam since Charlie’s funeral. My fury at him was still high over what had happened, but the guilt of beating Cas and almost killing him in the Bunker, and getting Rudy killed made my option clear.
I looked at my brother as I explained the threat of the Darkness to him, and his face grew more and more outraged and surprised.
“This is madness, Dean!” he exclaimed, looking at me. ”We have a way out!” Death stepped forward.
“Even if I remove Dean from the playing field, we're still left with you, loyal, dogged Sam, who I suspect will never rest until he sets his brother free,” he said, approaching Sam, not stopping until he was almost nose to nose with my younger brother. “Will never rest until his brother is free of the Mark, which simply cannot happen, lest the Darkness be set free. Then there was that time you stood me up.”
“You traded my life,” Sam accused, looking to me.
“I'm willing to live with this thing forever, as long as I know that I and it will never hurt another living thing,” I replied.
“This isn't you. This doesn't make any sense,” Sam said in an incredulous voice, shocked that I would believe something like this. I shook my head. The Mark continued to throb on my arm in a constant, silently chant. Kill, kill, kill, kill.
“No, it makes perfect sense if you stop thinking about yourself for one damn minute!” I said, my voice raising to an exclamation by the end.
“It's for the greater good.” Death said calmly, not affected by Sam’s denial. “Once you consider that, this makes all the sense in the world.”
I looked to Sam. He was breathing heavily as he stood between Death and I. He looked to Death and then to me. I decided to try a different tactic.
“Remember when we were in that church, making Crowley human, about to close the Gates of Hell?” I asked, recalling the memories. “Well, you sure as hell were ready to die for the greater good then,” I pointed out. He had given me so much crap over saving his life at the time, going as far to say he wouldn’t save me if I was dying, which he only revealed was a lie as I was struggling for breath mere minutes after getting an Angel Blade shoved into my heart by Metadick.
“Yeah, and, Dean, you pulled me back,” Sam replied, trust in his eyes. I frowned, indifferent.
“And I was wrong,” I replied, ignoring Sam’s shocked look. “You were right, Sam. You knew that this world would be better without us in it.”
“No, no, no, wait a second. You're twisting my words here, Dean,” Sam answered with a frown. I approached Sam. The Mark was throbbing harder now, and I gritted my teeth, holding the bloodlust back. I knew I was changing over the past few months, like before I became a demon, but like then, I didn’t care. I remembered saying to Sam that I didn’t want to be a demon as I was dying, but a part of me did.
“Why? Because we -- we track evil and kill it?” I asked, a slight mocking edge to my tone. “The family business? Is that it? Look at the tape, Sam. Evil tracks us. And it nukes everything in our vicinity -- our family, our friends. It's time we put a proper name to what we really are and we deal with it,” I ended angrily.
“Wait a second. We are not evil. Listen... We're far from perfect, but we are good. That thing on your arm is evil, but not you, not me.”
I shook my head, beginning to pace, and I looked Sam in the eyes.
“I let Rudy die. How was that not evil?” I asked. “I know what I am, Sam. But who were you when you, when you drove that man to sell his soul...?” I asked. Sam was letting his emotions get in the way. I needed to be somewhere where I couldn’t hurt anyone else, and Sam couldn’t see it. “Or when you bullied Charlie into getting herself killed? And to what end? A good end? A just end? To remove the Mark no matter what the consequences? Sam, how is that not evil? I have this thing on my arm, and you're willing to let the Darkness into the world!” I exclaimed again.
“You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you.”
I smirked and walked away. That was the problem. That had always been our problem. We let family get in the way.
“That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way,” Sam continued, and I looked down. I knew what I had to do.
“No, there is no other way, Sam. I'm sorry,” I said. Suddenly, Sam brought his fist back and punched me. I recoiled slightly and looked at him, slowly removing the bandana from my hand where I had cut it to summon Death.
“Good,” I said calmly, the Mark raising my bloodlust, and all I could hear was my pulse pounding in my ears. “Fight.”
I punched him back, square in the jaw. We fought viciously for several minutes, both of us throwing hard punches. The Mark fuelled my anger, making my hits forceful and quick. Adrenaline shot through my system as I threw Sam to the ground. He had several cuts on his face, and bruising to the left side. Sam tried to get up but I punched him again in the head. I looked at him coldly. The Mark was taking over and I lost my sense of reason, whatever I had left anyway. I punched him two more times as he tried to get up again.
“Okay,” Sam gasped out, putting his hands over his head protectively. I looked at him, an annoyed crease in my brows. “That's enough,” he choked out, panting. “Hey, that's enough.”
“You'll never, ever hear me say that you, the real you, is anything but good,” Sam wheezed as he looked up at me. I rolled my eyed. Sam looked away, coughing, and spit a mouthful of blood onto the floor. He looked back up at me with tears in his eyes.
“But you're right. Before you hurt...anyone else, you have to be stopped at any cost. I understand,” Sam sighed. Tears began to fall down his cheeks as he took a deep breath and sighed. He cleared his throat, and his voice was strong this time. “Do it.”
Death approached me and held up his scythe, and I turned to him, taking it, feeling a surge of power run “Please,” Death said emotionlessly. “Do me the honour.”
I turned back to face Sam, who was still was on the floor. He was breathing heavily, and I knew he was trying not to cry. Pathetic, the voice of the Mark sneered in my mind. I looked into his eyes, and saw my purpose. I had to kill him. For the greater good. Sam looked up, his brown eyes meeting mine and gave a small nod.
“Close your eyes,” I instructed. I saw a tear fall as he looked at me. “Sammy, close your eyes.” I knew why he was emotional. I had many times given him that request through our lives. When he fell and cut his knee, and he didn’t want to see the blood. When I struggled to get him to sleep as a toddler and when he had nightmares. On hunts, when he was terrified, and Dad’s orders would break through the silence.
“Wait,” Sam suddenly gasped out, reaching into his jacket and pulling out paper. “Take these, and one day, when you find your way back... Let these be your guide. And they can help you remember what it was to be good...what it was to love…”
Sam looked down, placing two photos on the ground. I recognised them as photos from my room. One was of Mom, baby Sam and I outside our old house, and the other was of Mom and I. Sam looked back up at me, and I had a moment of confliction. Could I really kill Sam? No, I had to. Death approached me and looked at me with his intense gaze.
“It's for family you must proceed, Dean,” he said. “To be what you are, to become what you've become is a stain on their memory. Do it. Or I will.” Those last three words convinced me. Sam was to die at my hand. I was like Cain, so why should this detail change?
“Forgive me,” I told Sam. My hand gripped tighter on the scythe, and with a yell, I swung. I saw Sam squeeze his eyes shut and a mere second later, the scythe sliced deep into Sam’s side, pulling the soul from him. Shockingly, even under the Mark’s effect, I felt nothing as Sam’s body fell to the floor, killed instantly. His hair covered his face, blood starting to drip onto the floor.
“M'sorry Sammy,” I said, not feeling much regret, emotionally detached. “It had to happen.”
“It's done then,” Death said, holding the small ball of blue light that was Sam’s soul. “I'll make sure his soul makes it to its destination.”
I nodded, feeling the same way after I attacked Cas. The rage, the power, filling me. I knew the regret and pain would come later, when the high from the Mark eased.
“You've made the right decision. The Darkness is still kept imprisoned,” Death continued.
“Yeah…” I replied, tracing the Mark with my fingertip. Sam lay deathly still on the cold floor, face already paling. My gaze turned to the photos on the floor and suddenly, I gasped as a bolt of bluish lightning burst from the ceiling, hitting the Mark where it was branded on my right forearm. I gasped, falling back, pain filling my body. It was red hot, focusing on my arm, and I watched in shock as the Mark burned and sizzled, eventually disappearing from my skin, leaving it unscathed. The rage from the Mark of Cain began to fade from my system. The many months struggling with it were almost like a distant memory suddenly.
“What is the meaning of this?” Death exclaimed. The pain eventually passed, and I was left gasping for air.
“What the hell…” I choked out, looking at my healed arm.
“The Mark. It's gone…” Death replied with a frown.
“Sam didn't list-” I began, but cut off, my face paling. My gaze travelled to Sam, silently begging in my mind that I hadn’t done what I thought, even though I knew I would be wrong. “Sam!! No… what have I done…?” I gasped as I staggered back in shock.
“You killed him Dean,” Death said matter of factly. Tears fell down my cheeks.
“For nothing… The darkness is coming.” I said, bowing my head. I had killed my brother. It was my job to look after him… I promised dad. And I had failed. I’d let the Mark take control over me and force me into these things. My stomach churned from the memories of how I had treated my brother in his last moments.
“Sammy… I'm sorry. Sam… please forgive me… Please...” I begged my brother's corpse, a sob wrenching itself from my throat. I tried to stop the sobs but they just kept coming, clawing their way up my throat. I heard the wind pick up outside, and the memory of the Darkness came back to me, forcing me into action. I had to get Sammy out of here. I wasn’t screwing up again. I started towards Sam, picking him up.
"What are you doing Dean? We had a deal!" Death shouted at me. I ignored him, racing from the restaurant as fast as I could with my lifeless 6”4 brother in my arms, tears clouding my vision. I fished in Sam’s pockets quickly and found the Impala’s keys, rushing toward the car. I looked over and in the distance, many beams of black smoke were bursting from the ground and all connecting in one place, a huge black cloud that was quickly growing and moving. I got Sam in the car carefully, as if he was just hurt, and the thought of the truth brought tears to my eyes.
"Come on Sammy… let’s get the hell out of here." I threw the Impala in reverse and backed out of the parking lot. The car backed up, the left back tyre falling into mud, getting stuck. I revved the engine, opening the door and looking back, trying to get the damn car out. My heart raced as I looked to Sam’s body. I couldn’t get out of here in time. As the blackness approached, I put a hand on my little brother’s shoulder, tears still falling. As the car was enveloped in darkness, I let out another sob.
I was my brother’s keeper.
And I failed.