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Everything had grown so complicated these days. Ever since Sam was able to spring Dean out of Hell itself, their home wasn't so homey anymore. The current situation was proof of that. Dean held a tight grip on the jug that was half full of holy oil as he stared long and hard at Castiel. The angel was standing in a ring of holy fire with a hardened look of his own on his face. The Impala was parked a few feet away within the alleyway they were in. Meekly, Sam sat on the back hood of the car. As he fidgeted with his fingers, he quietly watched the scene play out.
"Dean," Cas began lowly. "It has to be done."
"I don't think you're hearing me, Cas," Dean snapped. "Since when did you jump on this angel bandwagon and turn your back on us?"
Although his words were sharp, there was grief dimming the light in Dean's eyes. For a brief moment, pity revealed itself on Castiel's face. Quietly, he reminded, "You know when, Dean."
It was then that Dean's knuckles turned white from tightening its hold on the jug. Behind him, Sam ducked his head down in guilt to stare down at the cement. Castiel grew impatient with the silence and declared to them both, "It has to be done."
There was hesitation. The pause only caused misery and anger to strike at Sam's heart as his own hands tightened into fists against the legs of his jeans. It almost didn't matter that Dean rejected the idea after that; that small moment was clear enough that at least a part of Dean agreed with Castiel. Despite this detail though, Dean lashed out, "You can forget it, Cas."
Sam quickly scurried off the back hood of the Impala when Dean turned and walked towards the trunk. Forcefully, he popped the hood open and placed the jug of holy oil back inside. With his head still down, Sam retreated to the passenger side of the car and slipped into the seat without a word. He didn't bother looking back at Dean or Cas after that. He had seen and heard enough of the conversation. There wasn't anywhere he could run to in order to get away from this scene, but he was going to do his best to tune it out. The sad truth was that he had sat in the Impala not because it was a sanctuary but because it would help block out the sound. The Impala felt less and less of a home with every passing day, and he only had himself to blame for it. Sam would never regret the decision he made, but he would never stop being sorry for it. It had changed everything, and it was moments like this when Sam couldn't tell if what he had done made things better or so much worse.
"It doesn't have to be like this," Dean told the angel after shutting the trunk. "It really doesn't."
Castiel dipped his head down. No matter how much time had passed or what hardships had come between them, Cas still felt shame coil inside of him at Dean's reprimand. It was the only thing that could manage to make him feel regret on his decision and make him second guess whether or not he was doing the right thing. As the holy flames flickered and hissed around him, Cas knew Dean wouldn’t leave him like this. He might have been tempted to, but he knew Dean didn’t have the heart to do so. They both knew Castiel was done for at least the night and wouldn’t try anything underhanded when released from the trap. Maybe a part of Dean hoped with ever fiber of his being that Castiel would just stop trying to fight them altogether.
The moment Dean used a broken plank he found in the alleyway to make a walkway for Cas, the angel disappeared as soon as he was released from the ring of fire. Dean sighed heavily before running a hand over his face. He dragged his feet to the car and entered without a word. He didn’t so much as glance over at Sam, but Sam didn’t expect him to. No, he was hoping Dean wouldn’t. Dean didn’t start the car right away. He stared blankly ahead of them with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the keys that were already in the ignition. After a few intense minutes of silence, the Impala’s engine roared, and they were off. No music played. No words were spoken. Only the whispers of the wheels over the pavement were audible. This wasn’t their home. This was just the broken remains and painful reminder of what once was.