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“Sam Winchester; The Boy With The Demon Blood.”
When those words came out of Castiel’s mouth Sam was totally and utterly shocked. When he meet an angel for the first time he had not been expecting to be known as ‘The Boy With The Demon Blood’. Sam Winchester the boy who held his faith. The boy who believed that there was still some good left in humanity, the boy who saved the world was now reduced to The Boy With The Demon Blood. What was Sam expecting? With every sin he’s committed this should be the lightest but it wasn’t. It was the heaviest burden he could carry.
Not because of the title, no. It was because Castiel was Sam’s last hope. The hope that maybe the heavens held him in some regards. But he was more of a mistake to them than he was for his brother. He began to think of all the times he let Dean down, his own brother, his flesh and blood.
Sam felt his heart clench, it felt as if it was being ripped apart one piece at a time. Dean couldn’t even look Sam in the eyes without them turning into a disgusting glare. Sam almost wondered if Dean even considered him a brother at all, all he knew was that when Dean looked at Sam he could only see a monster.
A monster with demon blood.
Sam began to break down remembering those moments in his life where he was ridiculed for his mistakes. No matter what Sam did or tried to do he would always be a burden to everyone. Dean, Bobby, Dad, Mom… Everyone he ever loved has gotten hurt because of him and his mistakes. Sam had been sitting in his room when suddenly his door creaked open. He wiped his eyes quickly, his swollen soft brown eyes looked up to find Dean standing in the doorway his eyes filled with confliction.
“Heya Sam…” Sam. Dean only calls me that nowadays, not Sammy, not even Bitch. Just Sam.
Sam smiled faintly at the older brother, “Hey Dean, did you need something?” When Dean looked Sam in the eyes, even if they were slightly covered by his brown locks, Dean could clearly see that his eyes had massive bags under them and were red and puffy. It hurt Dean to see his baby brother like this. It broke his heart but he had to remember that this wasn’t his Sammy, this was a monster.
“Sam I need you to know that what you’re doing is not you, it’s that thing coursing through your veins, that-that-”
“Demon blood, I get it, Dean, I already know what I am Dean, you keep reminding me every second of the day!” Sam barked out at the end, his head hanging low.
“Don’t try that shit with me, Sam. I’m not the bad guy.” Dean said in defense.
“Of course you’re not Dean. You’re the savior. What am I? I’m a monster Dean... you said it yourself.” Sam was getting angry now and Dean could see it, his nose was flared, his jaw was clenched but his eyes looked broken.
Dean had no idea what to say, If he denied it he would be lying to himself and his brother
And if he accepted it who knows what Sam would do. As long as Sam had demon blood inside his bloodstream, Dean couldn’t trust him.
In a hushed whisper, Dean could vaguely make out 6 single most heartbreaking words.
“I wish I was never born…”
Before Dean could process what was going on his arms were already latched onto Sam like a leech who hadn’t drunken blood for centuries. Sam didn’t know what to do but stand there, his big moose like arms held tightly by his sides as if he was afraid, afraid that maybe this was all a dream and as soon as he touched Dean he would disappear into thin air. Dean grasped Sam’s face between his rough, calloused hands, Sam had avoided Dean’s hard gaze, looking anywhere except for his brother.
“Sammy. Sammy look at me. Sammy please…”
It had been such a long time since Sam had heard those words come from his mouth.
Sammy
Sam looked towards Dean. Dean’s eyes were deep and sunken from lack of sleep, worry embedded into his tired green eyes.
“Sammy, don’t you ever. Say that to me again, you hear me? You’re the most important thing I have-”
“ I didn’t ask to be born Dean! I never asked to have demon blood, I never asked to be a freak! If I weren't born then Mom would be alive and probably Dad… everyone would be alive, if I wasn’t born…” As Sam trailed off Dean found it harder to keep Sam focused.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask to be born either Sammy, none of us asked to be put on earth or to have these fucked up lives of ours, but Sammy you gotta remember all the lives you saved, Sammy, imagine all the people that would be dead if it weren’t for you! Hell neither I or Dad could have saved them. Only you Sammy. Only you could save them. You are so important Sammy, especially to me. You’re my little brother. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Sammy.”
By now Sam was in Dean’s welcoming embrace, tears staining the elder brothers jacket, even soaking through it. Dean had a few tears in his eyes as well, but not as much as Sammy’s. Dean realized how much he had hurt his brother, his Sammy. Dean felt disgusted, disgusted with how he had been treating Sammy, how he called his own baby brother a monster. Dean thought he could protect Sam from every single monster out there but what he hadn’t counted on was for himself to become one. Sam wasn’t the monster. Dean was...
After a few moments, Sam’s breathing began to slow down and revert to hiccups, Dean hadn’t seen Sam cry this much ever, and it scared him. A little soon after Dean could hear his slow, shallow breathing. Slowly but steadily, Dean carefully lifted the bumbling moose into his arms and laid him down to rest, gently brushing some hair stuck to his eyes, Dean could clearly see how red Sam’s eyes were, how sunken they were. Dean wondered how much time Sam spent awake, wondering, thinking about this sort of thing.
Dean was terrified. What if Sam had done something to himself? Or even worse? How could he forgive himself if Sam were to-’ Dean snapped out of it. No. He wasn’t going to let that happen. He was going to make sure that Sam never cried like that ever again.