onasteelhorse | an exercise in control (for hunter

It didn't escape Dean just how fucked up this was. But so was the whole situation, so what the hell, right? If it got Sam back, if it got him to see how that Ruby bitch was fucking with his head and helping him get hooked on something that was going to lead nowhere good... well, Dean could take the fall out. He'd take whatever hate Sam could throw at him, but he wasn't letting his brother damn himself like this.

He wasn't going to let Sammy turn himself into a monster.

So, he found a spell. He hated dealing in magic and witches, but if it all went right... well, it meant he'd have enough pull over Sam to get him to stop until he finished detoxing this time and hopefully realized just what the demon blood was doing to him.

To them both, really.

He was fucking terrified Sam was going to do something stupid, wind up in a worse situation. He couldn't let him, even if it meant betraying him in one of the worst ways.

The spell was cast though and all Dean had to do now was sit back in the tiny motel room and wait for Sam to get back from wherever he slipped off to today. He tried to play it casual, flipping through channels and fought down his nerves and conscience alike.

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"You've always been strong, Sammy," he murmurs, bringing a hand up to brush through his brother's hair, trying to soothe.

"Trust me, I ain't that strong." Otherwise, maybe he would have been able to let Sam go all those times, let him stay in college... not drag him into all of this shit.

"No," he shakes his head, curling in closer and just trying to breathe through the discomfort. "Not strong enough. If I was I wouldn't be here. Wouldn't be.. sick. 's the demon blood Dean. Ever since I was a kid. Can't shake it, can't shake it. I'm not right."

Because it was the blood in the end. Azazel's blood that tainted him when he was just a child. That's why Dean was stronger. Why he'd always be stronger.

"You think i give a shit about that?" He shifted, trying to get Sam to look up at him instead of burying in against him like he was. He needed Sam to just look up, listen to him.

"Look, okay, so you've made some mistakes. So have I, Sammy, but you're good. You're such a good guy. I know you. You wouldn't hurt a freakin' fly... it doesn't matter what blood's in you. You just can't keep poisoning yourself with Ruby's, Sam. You can't let her keep getting in your head... she's trying to get in between us. She's trying to screw you over and I just-- I know it. I can't lose you, Sam."

Not to her, not to this suicide mission Sam's set for himself.

He can barely see Dean through his tears, but he let Dean shift him around until he was looking up at his brother. God. Dean's always had such faith in him and he's never been sure he's worth that much.

That's when the memory slides back into place. Furious at Dean, telling him that he hated him. Dean, who's been his entire world for as long as he can remember. Shock and horror flicker across his face and he reached up, curling his fists in his shirt.

"Ohgod Dean. Ohgod I'm so sorry. 'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean it."

How can he be a good guy when he said such terrible things to his brother? When he'd been so set on revenge that he'd nearly forgotten the reason why in the first place?

"Sammy..." He didn't want to think about what Sam was apologizing for. He was practically hysterical right now and all Dean could do is pull him in closer again, one hand going to rest at the back of his head to keep him cradled close.

"It's okay. You need to calm down, okay?"

Grief and guilt and it's a miracle he's not hyperventilating. The spell helps again and he stuffs down the swell of upset, trying to calm himself down. "It's not okay Dean. Fuck. It's not. 'm sorry."

For everything. For saying he hated him, for arguing, for getting into the whole godforsaken mess.

"Sam, you don't even know what you're saying right now..." It was easier to brush it off, it was easier to hope that Sam meant a single word of it right now. He didn't want to set himself up for another blow if Sam realized how pissed he ought to be when his head cleared up.

"Maybe it's not right now, but it'll be okay soon. Just gotta get you better, Sam."

“Yes I do,” there’s a sharpness to his voice as he pushed himself up. If there’s one thing that rankled Sam the most, it was being discounted like that. Second guessed. He’d put up with it for most of his childhood and over the years it had sparked most, if not all of the arguments between him and their father.

“I know exactly what I’m saying and it’s my fault. All of it. I knew she was playing me but.. I wanted to matter. I wanted to do something good with this demon blood in me.”

Wearily he scrubbed at his face. God. His head was still pounding and his mouth felt like an ashtray. “I didn’t mean it Dean. Any of it.”

"You can do plenty of good, Sam. The demon blood doesn't matter... Hell, you have done a lot of good." He let out a sigh and leaned back against the headboard, frowning at Sam.

"Okay, Sammy. Like I said, it'll be okay. We'll fix it, all of it." He paused, hesitating a moment because Dean still wasn't good at talking about this feeling crap, even now.

And part of him still didn't want to hear the answer.

"So what, taking back the whole hating thing too, Sammy? Because, man, I don't know... that one not many could blame you for."

Mention of those harsh words made Sam wince. He'd been angry, furious, and when he was angry he tended to lash out with words rather than fists. Shoulders slumped, he nodded. "Yes. I.. I didn't mean it Dean."

Reaching up, he gripped the front of his shirt. "I couldn't hate you. You're all I've got, all I've ever had."

He manages a smile as he tugs Sam in, holding him close again, one hand tangling through all that long hair. All he had...

Sam deserved more than that, but he'd never get it unless he got off that demon blood shit, stopped this hunt for revenge. "Yeah, you got me, Sammy."

The reassurance helps and he settles into his arms, going quiet and still against him. "All I need, Dean. I didn't mean it. 'm sorry. I'll try. I promise I will. Just.. don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam... Never planned to unless you told me." Sam was all he had too. Hell, he'd died for the kid jut because he couldn't imagine living on without him. He wasn't going to leave.

"We should hit the road when you feel like it though. We can go to Bobby's or wherever else you want."

an exercise in control (for hunter_returns)

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