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Sam is reeling.
Kevin’s alive and on the lam, Crowley undoubtedly hot on his heels. Cas is dead. They’re no closer to shutting the gates of Hell than before they knew it was even possible. Garth’s trying way too hard to fill unfillably big shoes. Cases keep cropping up left and right, and he’s struggling to get back into hunting after being out for a year.
Oh, and Dean’s back. Except he’s not, not really.
The way he talks about Purgatory (when Sam can even get him to talk about it at all), the wistful look he gets in his eyes sometimes, make Sam believe that Dean would rather be back there than here, with him.
It’s not exactly a surprise.
Most days, when Dean looks at him, it’s with a lingering distaste, like he can’t believe he’s stuck with such a shitty brother. And that makes sense, because most days, Sam feels like shit. He should have looked for Dean; he has let Dean down, in so many ways, over and over again; and if there’s that much resentment bubbling just under the surface, then why the hell has Dean stuck around as long as he has?
Every time Dean’s phone rings, Sam tenses, thinking it’s Benny. Every time Dean leaves their motel room of the week, Sam wonders if it’ll be for good. He’s all but stopped sleeping, listening for the latch of the door closing as Dean finally walks away from him.
* * *
Things don’t improve with Cas’s return.
* * *
Dean spends all his time with the angel now, sparing a glance and a biting word for Sam when it’s convenient, and Sam spends more and more of his time buried in research. If he can find the way to close the Gates of Hell forever, maybe he can prove to Dean that he’s worth something. Maybe Dean will forgive him, even just a little bit.
He stops sleeping, and he hardly eats anything anymore unless someone puts it in front of him, but he’s fine. He’s fine. He has a purpose, something to work toward, something that will redeem him in Dean’s eyes and maybe, if he’s lucky like he’s never been, will get rid of that cold look in Dean’s eyes whenever they meet Sam’s.
* * *
He spends an hour washing the Hellhound’s blood off, but it’s worth it. Saving Dean is worth it.
* * *
Now that he’s started the Trials, Sam pretty much lives in the library. Dean wanders in and out, sometimes bringing food that Sam can’t keep down, but he mostly keeps his distance, and for the first time since Dean got back, Sam is grateful for it. He doesn’t need Dean mother-henning him; he needs to focus. He couldn’t save Dean from Hell, he didn’t even look for Dean in Purgatory, but finding the way to shut Hell down forever… that’s something he can do.
So he does.
* * *
And then, on the cusp of possibly the most important thing he’s ever done… Dean asks him to stop.
Sam is stripped bare, all his hurt and vulnerability, all his insecurities and deficiencies leaking out for anyone to see, and Dean sees him and sill wants him. Dean wants him.
So Sam lets go.