Is Revenge Worth It?

Disclaimer : Nothing Supernatural is mine; I have borrowed for a while. I'll give them back, I promise – apart from passing a little time with them, I have made no profit from this endeavour – so please don't come looking for me. Some quotes taken directly from season 1.

Summary: Sam seeks revenge but Dean tries to talk him out of it.

Warning: Character Death (lots of Dean and Sam angst). Also spoilers for season 1 in the final chapter

Rating: some swearing (naughty boys! Wash their mouths out)

Chapter 8 – The Healing Influence

Sam returned to the room sometime later. As he opened the door, he called, 'Dean? Mom? You here?' and figured he'd have to be careful doing things like that in case anyone else ever saw him and thought he was crazy when they never saw him with anyone.

'Sammy, you're back.'

'Yeah, Mom. You okay? You on your own?'


'Where's Dean?' it was more than just a curiosity, his tone gave away the concern he'd been feeling for his brother.

'He's gone out for a bit. He's trying out a few things, getting used to this, you know.'

'Not really. Is he okay?'

'Sam, I'm sure he will be. He's just not sure of himself at the moment.'

'At the moment? What do you mean at the moment?' the guilt that Sam had felt when he'd realised that Dean was not in fact the confident cocky player he made himself out to be reared its head, reminding him of his gradual realisation over time of the level of Dean's vulnerability through snatches of conversations, when they'd first gone home to Lawrence, when Dean had been dying after the Rawhead, when they'd found the Shtriga but most of all the things he'd said when they'd been hunting Dad and the Demon. 'Mom, you do know it's an act when he's all cocky and arrogant don't you? Dean isn't, I mean, wasn't as confident as he made out. He hides, but I don't know I guess I thought you'd know that.'

'Sam, can you show me? Show me what he was really like?'

'You mean tell you right?'

'No, show me. Think of each event and I'll watch. Imagine you're watching it on TV. I'm going to rest my hands on your temples and I'll be able to see.'

Sam wasn't sure if it was his imagination or if he actually felt his mother's hands at the sides of his head but he followed her instructions and began to think of his brother.

He started with the conversation they'd had in the car the previous day, with his brother's anguished 'How could I have lived with myself if people got killed?' the earlier acceptance of self-blame for his own death. He went back further to the night in the cabin with the Demon. He pictured the way Dean had drawn the Demon's attention away from him, it's smiling accusation that the family hadn't needed Dean, not like Dean needed them, that Dean's bravado masked pain and truth, Dean's mask hadn't slipped and Sam's own realisation that this was not because it didn't exist but because Dean was so used to needing to hold it in place. It was another way of protecting his family, if they didn't know he was hurting, they would carry on doing what they needed. Dean's desperate pleas to their father to not let the Demon kill him and then his protection of his family, sending Sam to check on their father, not letting him kill John to take out the Demon.

'Go back Sammy.'

He remembered the argument he and Dean had had about the Colt before going to rescue their Dad. 'You and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that. You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself to this thing, but you know what I'm going to be the one to bury you. You're selfish, you know that. You don't care about anything but revenge.' Sam's heart ached with the memory, although it ended up being Dean who died first.

'Further Sam.'

His mind flicked through the events of their lives and Dean's role in them, Dean's confession during the pursuit of the Shtriga, his near death from the Rawhead, his warmth and encouragement in the phone conversation from Burkitsville when Sam had been waiting for the bus, his support of Sam when despite his own reluctance they'd returned to Lawrence, the way he'd pulled Sam from the fire that had taken Jess. He went back further to Dean's support when he'd tried to convince his father to let him go to Stanford, his care and support all through his schooling, through Sam's battles with Dad and before that his own, the times they'd stayed with the Pastor, the little things that Dean had done that put his brother first always.

'Thank you Sam. I understand.'

'You understand what, Mom?'

'Sam, I need to ask you something. I want you to answer my questions truthfully.'

'Right,' Sam was cautious.

'Sam, do you want your brother here with you?'

'Mom, I want him alive, I want him breathing, I want him to have the life he should have had.'

'Sam, we can't do that. Dean's dead, no matter what you say, he's dead.'

'Then yes. Yes, I want him here. Even his ghost is better than nothing. I can't imagine not talking to him. Mom, after you died, it's Dean who brought me up, he showed me how to be a good person. Even when he was doing wrong, he was always doing it to make something else better, to make things better for me, putting something right.'

'Sam, what do you think Dean wants now?'

'Beer, a game of pool and a hot chick.' He shook his head as he said it, it was what Dean would want him to say, not what he would really want, 'He'd really want to protect me and probably Dad as well, to make sure we were safe.'

'Yes. He's coming back now. Make it right Sammy. You know what to do.'

'Is he okay?'

'Hey Mom, Sammy. What're you doing? I've been down the road, there's a park and there's this really hot chick just sitting there in the sun. Awesome!'

'Dean, I didn't teach you to treat young ladies like that or to speak about them like that.'

'Mom, I was too young to be looking at women and appreciating the view.'

'Baby, if we were talking about anyone else I'd agree with you but I'm pretty sure you were born with an eye for the ladies and knowing how to flirt. As soon as you could smile, women were swooning and you were taking advantage of it.'

'Mom, how can you say that?'

'I've never known a little boy who liked hugs like you did. Then it was pie, or sweets or juice or well anything you could see your way to getting really. It hardly ever failed.'

'Well, it would be a shame to waste an opportunity.'

Sam smiled. Dean sounded more like himself than he had first thing that morning.

'Dean? Fancy a road trip?'

'Sure, where are we going? Not to see Dad, right?'

Sam knew that even now, Dean would look out for him. Revenge, killing his father wasn't going to achieve anything, in truth he wasn't going to feel better about it afterwards, Dean was right. The best he could hope for now was to forge a life of his own and take Dean along for the ride. 'No, not to see Dad. Not unless that's what you want?'

'Nah. I can go check on him anytime. We should chill. Where did you have in mind?'

There was just one last thing, he needed to be sure of, 'Mom, I know Dean doesn't want me to go to see Dad. What do you think?'

'I think he's right, honey.'

Dean smiled. For the first time in more than 20 years, he could see all his family when he wanted and he had made sure they were all safe for now. He knew it wouldn't necessarily last, but he also knew they wouldn't hurt each other; he and Mom would make sure of that. In time Dad and Sam would join them and then they could be the family they were supposed to be before the Demon came. But for now, Dean was happy to wait, there was no rush.

Author's Final Note: If you've got this far, I'd like to thank you for sticking with the story through to the end. This is my longest story to date which has dealt with one set of events (asopposed to jumping around from event to event or person to person)so I would love to know what you thought (framed constructively if it's not good! I need to know how to improve!) Best wishes to you all. Morning Sunlight.