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If asked, Dean would say he was awake due to the constant pounding in his head, both from Michael’s presence and the bruise blossoming across his face from Sam’s well-timed punch. But in reality, it was more because of his big brother instinct that he had honed over the past thirty plus years.
During the ride back to the bunker Sam had been silent, stiffly curled up against the passenger side window. This was a Sam that Dean remembered seeing when they were growing up, he was trying to contain his own anger and as usual failing at it. It had often been directed at John then, and later at Dean himself during the years leading up to the apocalypse.
Sam’s anger had simmered over the years, and he was rarely explosive. Dean himself often thought that kind of anger had died when Sam went to Hell. That he had lost that kind of simmering hatred leaving behind something more subtle. Now he had concerns that it had been simmering under the surface all along, and he needed to find a way to fix it... before he was gone.
Sam had made a quick exit from the car when they arrived back at the bunker, and Cas and Dean hadn’t attempted to follow him. Dean had eventually gone to his own room, but now he was wandering back towards the war room in search of his brother. He found Cas sitting at the map tracing the states with his finger.
“You know... we gave you a bedroom for a reason Cas.” Dean said.
Cas tilted his head at Dean, stilling his movements.
“I have no reason to use a bed.”
“So? Go watch Netflix or something. You don’t have to sit here while we sleep. It’s creepy.”
“I couldn’t focus if I tried. He’s too loud.” Cas said.
Dean grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and walked over to Castiel.
“Angel radio turned up to 100?”
Cas shook his head.
“No. It's not angels, it’s Sam.”
Dean choked has he took a sip of water.
“Sam? What is he praying?”
Cas leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
“He is not praying exactly... more like... threatening the universe?”
“I’m sorry, you wanna run that by me again?”
“Nothing is going to hurt him Dean. He is simply... getting out his frustrations. It’s actually kind of refreshing to hear him again.”
Dean sat down across from Castiel.
“You used to hear him pray?”
Castiel looked at him curiously.
“I am an angel Dean, and you were my charges. Of course I heard him pray.”
“Oh really? Cause from what I remember I was your puppet; Sam was the enemy.”
Castiel nodded.
“I suppose you are right. I raised you from perdition... you were my job... but I couldn’t help but be interested in the boy with the demon blood. At the time I knew only what my orders were. But Sam always had such... faith. I couldn’t help but be drawn to such a unique soul.”
Dean digested that for a minute. He remembered when Sam told him he prayed, how fiercely he wanted to believe the angels were good. He didn’t know when Sam had stopped praying... but he had to imagine he had given it up by the time Lucifer was raised.
“I’m assuming he is awake?” Dean asked.
“Of course.”
Dean stood and made his way down the hallway towards Sam’s bedroom and knocked harshly on the door. No answer. Sorry, not tonight, Dean was not going away. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. He stared at Sam’s shoulders for a moment, he was still dressed and sitting on the edge of his bed facing away from the door. Dean pushed the bedroom door closed and walked closer to his brother.
“You still pissed at me?” Dean asked.
Sam let out a watery laugh.
“No.”
Dean frowned and came around the bed to stand in front of his brother staring at the top of his head.
“Are you okay?”
“I... I think so?”
“What does that mean?”
Sam sighed and finally lifted his head; he stared at the blossoming bruise on Dean’s with a grimace.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I was pissed and I couldn’t figure out how to get my point across to you...”
Dean laughed.
“You got your point across just fine Sammy... I’m here, aren’t I?”
Sam smiled softly.
“Yeah, you are... but I need to explain or try and make you understand.”
“No you don’t. I believe in us okay? You don’t need to explain-.”
“Dean... Please....”
Dean sighed and pulled a chair over to sit in front of his brothers slouched form.
“Does this explanation include why you were threatening the universe?”
Sam looked up perplexed.
“Excuse me?”
“Cas told me you were threatening the universe.”
“He could hear that huh?”
“Yup. So, what were you saying?”
Sam sighed and closed his eyes.
“I was trying to let them know that I wasn’t going to let them trap you too.”
Dean stared at Sam as he pushed his thumb into a nearly faded white scar in the center of his palm, and he felt bile climb up his throat.
“Sammy...”
“You have no idea what you are signing up for Dean, but do you know who might know a thing or two about locking yourself in a box with a pissed off arch angel? Did you honestly think for a second that I would watch you do that? Do you have any idea what that would do to me?”
Flashes of watching his little brother fall into a hole at Stull Cemetary made their way across his eyes.
“Are you asking if I remember what it's like to be left behind? Of course I do.”
“Then why would you do it? You don’t want this Dean. I knew Michael, I doubt this one will be much kinder.”
“Why did you? You were saving the world, right? I guess it's my turn.”
Sam laughed.
“It was never about the world. I’m too selfish for that. I did it, to save you.”
“Well, then why can’t I return the favour?”
“You already did you jackass. You killed my boogeyman. Lucifer is dead. I don’t fear the cage anymore. Now I am scared of a coffin at the bottom of the ocean.”
Dean rubbed his hand over his day old beard and thought back to the year he had spent with Lisa, forever thinking about his little brother who was being tortured beneath his feet, and then he thought of later, watching as Lucifer knocked his brother to the ground of the cage when he went to talk to him about The Darkness.
“I’m sorry Sammy.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry, I just need you to understand that I can’t let you do this. It’s a fate worse than death okay? I do not have it in me to let you do that.”
It was times like this that Dean swore he could see the Hell fire burning behind his brother's eyes.
“What if I can’t fight him?”
Sam shrugged.
“Thirty seconds was all I needed to stop Lucifer from ending the world. Seems to me you are doing alright so far; you’ve always been stronger than me. We’ll figure this out, then it’ll all be a distant memory.”
Dean smiled softly. Neither brother actually believed that, but for just a moment Dean felt peace.
“I’m glad your boogeyman is gone, Man.”
Sam smiled.
“One thing you’ve always been good at big brother, is killing the monsters in the closet. Think it’s my turn.”
The Winchester’s laughed, thinking of simpler times, a calm aura encompassed the bunker and in the war room, Castiel smiled.