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Getting Sam’s body had been no problem. Checking into a motel with a corpse, well, that had been somewhat interesting when another patron had seen Dean carrying Sam’s body into the motel and decided to play good Samaritan – “just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you can’t be a creeper taking advantage of a drunk guy” – but the guy eventually accepted Dean’s explanation that they were brothers and only passing through town. It helped that Dean was able to tuck Sam into bed like a big brother. Once the meddlesome do-gooder was out of the way, Dean pulled the chair over and sat beside Sam. “Cas better come through quick. Not sure how long I can hide a decomposing body.”
“Can’t believe we’re doing this again.” Dean ran a hand over his face. “What even was this stupid fight about? What was so important to you that you’d run off and get yourself killed like this? Dude had a gun, Sammy, I know you’re used to going up against things out of our pay grade but you never even went for yours. What were you thinking? I know you’re all about saving people and not killing things that don’t need killing, but that dude needed killing, what he was about to do to that woman.” According to the person Dean had spoken to about his brother’s death, Sam had interrupted an attempted rape. The woman was able to get out of there and find a cop, and the man who had killed Sam was in custody thanks to her. Dean was already making plans to get into the jail and take care of that minor detail. He didn’t deserve to live, not with Sam dead.
It kept him busy until the whoosh of wings, and he turned to glare at Castiel. “What are you doing back here? Get. Sammy. In. There.” He jabbed a finger at Sam’s body.
“Sam was uncertain you would even want him back,” Castiel spat, voice sharp in a way Dean had never heard from him. “He said you told him that Benny was a better brother than he ever was?”
Dean winced. “I told him, I said a lot of things I didn’t mean when I was under the influence of that damned curse. If Benny were a better brother than Sam, I wouldn’t be phone calls only with Benny while I hang out with Sam. C’mon, Cas, you know it’s bullshit.”
“I don’t, actually.” Castiel stepped closer. “Sam is a better brother to you than Benny. You need to make Sam believe you know that. You need to fix your bullshit, without piling more on top. And you may need to do this in the morning, because Sam might choose to spend some time with me instead.”
“Why the hell would Sam do that? I know you don’t hate him anymore, but it’s not like you and Sam are close.” He’d have noticed, right? Sure, Sam had a thing for Castiel way back when, but it had gotten rather thoroughly and brutally snuffed out during the Apocalypse. And then Castiel’s betrayal and breaking Sam’s head, sure Sam was the forgiving kind, but when would they have gotten close?
Castiel cleared his throat. “Sam and I cleared up our misunderstandings while I was in Heaven, retrieving him. I hope that you will do the same now that he’s back.”
Dean spun around, looking down at the bed. Sure enough, Sam’s eyes were fluttering, and he was struggling to sit up. Dean grabbed his arm and pulled him up enough to pull into a hug. “Don’t you dare think, ever, that I wouldn’t want you back. Ever. You’re my brother. I will always want you here beside me.”
“Will you?” Sam pulled back, looking up at Dean, looking so lost and young and scared that Dean wanted to go back to that cursed coin and kick his ass. “Or next time I mess up, is this yet another thing for you to throw in my face?”
“C’mon, man, that’s not fair.” Dean watched as Sam curled in on himself. “That coin…” Dean looked to Castiel for help, but Castiel shook his head. “It’s not like you don’t pull this bullshit, too, remember the asylum where you went so far as to shoot me? If I’d been dumb enough to give you a loaded gun…”
“And there you go again.” Sam got to his feet, throwing up his hands. “In the asylum, I was airing current grievances that I wouldn’t normally air so harshly – or, anymore, bother to air at all since you’ll just turn yourself into a martyr who has to accommodate his unreasonable little brother’s whining. You’re dragging stuff up from eight years ago that you said you’d gotten past and forgiven. You always say that we’re good, all’s forgiven and forgotten, clean slate… but you never hold to that.” Sam stopped, hands clenched at his sides, and turned to Castiel. “Thank you for coming to get me, Castiel. I’m glad I’m back.”
“I’m glad you’re back, too.” Castiel reached out and took Sam’s hands, gently prying the fingers open enough to lace them through his own. “You can do this. You need to do this.”
“Dean, Cas and I are going to go get our own room. I’m back, I’m not running off on you, I’ll be right here at the motel when you’re ready to talk, but I strongly encourage you not to be ready to talk for an hour or two.” Sam dropped Castiel’s hands and pulled a stunned Dean into a hug. “When you’re ready to talk, I am asking you to have seriously thought about your behavior and be ready to acknowledge that you broke the promise you made me after you decided against becoming Michael’s meat suit, to let me grow up and stop trying to treat me like a snot-nosed kid you have to keep on the straight and narrow. I’m not that kid anymore. I need my big brother, but I don’t need you to decide everything for me.”
He left, Castiel trailing behind him with a pointed glare over his shoulder. Dean sat on his bed, trying to process what had just happened. His baby brother really didn’t believe that he was the most important thing in Dean’s life, or that Dean really did love him and want him around. How had they gotten so off the rails that Sam could believe that?
Sam’s words about a clean slate made him think back to staring at Rufus’s grave with Bobby and Sam, and how he’d told them both that they couldn’t let that happen to them. Sam had a good point about how Dean had said that, and then brought up the past. The asylum, the things he’d said and done when he was on the demon blood… even the fight they’d had at Stanford that led to them not seeing each other for two years. Sam had never denied that those words came from him. Everything he’d said, though, had been a current grievance. Even this fight, the only thing he dragged out of the past had been brought up by Dean first, or was pointing out that Dean wasn’t keeping his word. All the things Dean had done in the past that Sam should have brought up to throw in his face, he didn’t, unless it was directly relevant to the current fight.
That wasn’t even the worst of it. The sight of Sam looking so small as he asked if Dean really did want him there… he didn’t know that. He didn’t know that, because Dean may have said the words, but did he actually follow through? He’d thought there could be nothing worse than hearing Castiel say that Sam was dead, that Dean needed to go get his body, but this? This just might be.
He wanted to go after them, promise Sam that this time, he really would do better, but two things stopped him. The more immediate was the implication that Sam and Cas were over in their own room fucking. Not that he objected, not with Cas in an empty vessel and both of them being good for each other so if this did prove to be more than a hookup they’d both be better for it. He just didn’t wanna see that.
That gave him time to really sit and think about what, exactly, he was going to do differently this time. Sure, he could plead the excuse of after making that promise to Sam, Sam died, came back soulless and actually needing him to keep him on the straight and narrow, and then just falling back into old habits after several months of that, but it was an excuse. He didn’t even have that much for continuing to hold on to grudges from the past.
His words from the flight from Van Nuys echoed in his ears, interspersed with his words from the coin. He owed Sam an apology, and what’s more, he owed Sam some hard work on his part to change. To prevent this from ever happening to them in the future. How could he convince Sam of it? He probably couldn’t, not at first.
That was okay. He could at least work on step one, here, for the next hour or so. Step one was to think of all the things he’d said under the influence of the coin and find a way to let them go. Leaving him in Purgatory? It wasn’t because of the girl and he knew it. That was because of the promise they made, and by the time Sam was in any shape to look for him, convincing himself Dean was probably in Heaven.
Losing his soul? How in the world had that ever been appropriate to bring up? He didn’t lose his soul on purpose, and if he was going to act like Current Sam was responsible for not telling Dean about it, he needed to hold Sam responsible for a whole lot of other shit the soulless bastard had done. He went through others, reminding himself of the truth, or Sam’s side of the story for something they disagreed on, or that Sam had accepted he fucked up, apologized, and done whatever he could to make it right.
A voice that sounded like Castiel’s interrupted as he was about to leave. “You say this now, but what happens next time you misunderstand something, or Sam messes up, or the two of you disagree and you’re asking Sam to go with your preference? How can Sam believe you won’t just haul all of this back up and throw it at him?”
“Well, for one thing…” Dean turned in a full circle, but Castiel wasn’t there. Which, really, was for the best; wasn’t he supposed to be “bonding” with Sam at the moment? It had taken Dean a while to work through his shit, but surely not… oh. Actually, it had been an hour and a half. Plenty of time to go over there and expect pants to be on. Once he had an answer to Imaginary Cas’s question, at least.
He had one. This wasn’t him just throwing a shovelful of dirt over the past and calling it buried. He’d done some work. He’d tried his best to see Sam’s side of it all. He couldn’t promise that he’d never mess up and fall back on old habits, but he could promise to work out some kind of code he and Sam could use for “I’m so angry I can’t talk about this right now, give me an hour to find a gym and punch something and we can talk afterward.” Sussex might work, remembering the stupid penny.
That sorted, he was ready to go talk to Sam and Cas. A quick check of his phone gave him the room number. He knocked and waited.
Castiel was fully dressed when he opened the door. “Hello, Dean. Before I step aside to allow you in, why are you here?”
“To apologize to Sammy and tell him what I’ve decided, get his input on it.” At that, Castiel stepped aside.
Sam seemed surprisingly unimpressed to see him. “What you’ve decided, huh? I suppose it’s improvement that you’ll let me have input.”
That stung, but Dean decided to let it go. “Sam, I’m sorry. You’re right that I say things I don’t actually mean, or that I mean at the time but don’t hold to. Doesn’t mean I didn’t mean it when I said I’d let you grow up, or that the slate was clean and all was forgiven, but if you can admit when you’ve screwed up… I should be able to, too. Gonna argue with you about Benny still, but that can wait until we’ve talked this through and had some time. Okay? Anyway, what I’ve decided – I need to do a lot more work, but it's not the kind of thing I can work through in one session of sitting with myself. You shouldn’t believe me if I say it’s all good now. It’s something I gotta work on, proving that it really is in the past now. In the meantime, while I’m still working on that, if I’m starting to be a dick and bring that shit up? Shut me down by telling me Sussex. Code word that should remind me of the time I broke things so bad you thought I might for one second want you to stay dead. If you’ve got suggestions or want a different code word, I’m all ears.”
“No.” Sam ducked his head. “Sorry, I… you may need to use it on me, occasionally, too. I… I really appreciate this, Dean. We’ll have to see how it goes, but I’m not expecting you to be perfect. Just to listen when I call you out and apologize when you fuck up, okay?
“Yeah. Yeah, I think we can do that. While I’m at it, call me out on treating you like a kid or a wayward little brother I gotta haul in line, okay?” Sam nodded, and Dean let himself relax. The two of them just might be okay.