A/N: I thought I'd sworn off tags, but this popped into my head during a conversation. It's all TraSan's fault. I'm laying the blame at her feet. She wanted a little more, I wanted a little more, so here it is. This little missing scene picks up as Sam is dispelling the demon in the chapel. Spoilers for It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester.
Dean raced towards the chapel. He could hear the sounds of a struggle as he ran towards his brother. Use the knife, Sammy, he's already dead, it doesn't matter. He was completely focused on getting to Sam. I should have gone, I should have gone. Dean rounded the corner and stopped dead.
The knife was on the floor.
Sam was holding the demon off with his hand.
"No, Sam," Dean whispered, unable to tear his eyes away from his brother.
The demon was struggling. Dean could see that, he watched as it tried to edge closer to Sam, but Sam held it off. His brother was trembling, the demon fighting to get closer and closer. Oh, god, Sam. Dean was paralyzed, watching the struggle. A vague thought flitted through his head, that he should help somehow, but his whole focus was taken up by what was happening in front of him. Sam raised his free hand to his head. It was a well remembered gesture of pain. Dean took half a step forward.
Sam's nose started dripping blood.
Oh my god. He could see what it was doing to Sam. The first sparks of panic—even terror—started creeping along Dean's spine. It was killing Sam. He could see that, even if Sam couldn't at that moment. I have to do something. The thought finally made it through his numb brain. Before he could move, the demon was gone. The body dropped to the floor with a wet sound.
Dean looked up and met his brother's eyes.
He wondered what Sam saw at that moment. His brother's face was shattered, it had a look of fear so profound it took Dean's breath away. He's afraid. Realization hit Dean so hard it nearly broke him. He's afraid of what I'll say, what I'll do. Me, not the angels, not god. Me. Oh god, Sammy. Sam was still staring at him with that look—the "please, please don't kick me look" that Dean hadn't seen for a long time. Not this profound, not this full of complete fear. Then Sam suddenly dropped. His eyes rolled up in his head and he just dropped boneless, lifeless to the floor.
"SAM!" Dean was moving towards his brother before he even realized it. "Sammy?" He knelt down and turned Sam over. "Sam?" He felt for a pulse. Sam's heart was beating too hard, too fast. Dean dragged a napkin out of his pocket, wet it with a little holy water from his flask and gently wiped the blood off his brother's face. "Sam?" He was watching the rise and fall of Sam's chest when it stopped for a long, long moment. Dean counted the seconds, his hand on the pulse point in Sam's wrist. "Breathe, Sam, come on." He shifted Sam and was getting ready to start CPR when Sam gasped in a huge breath. "Thank god."
"De?" Sam groaned.
"Sam? Open your eyes, come on."
"Head hurts," Sam said, sounding exactly like he had when he was six.
"Can you open your eyes for me, Sammy?" Dean asked again. He was running his hand over Sam's head, trying to see if there was any damage. The only thing he could find was a small bump from when Sam fell. Of course, internal hemorrhage doesn't show. Sam's nose was still dripping blood. "Sam?" He shook his brother, no response. "Sammy, come on." He could hear the fear in his own voice, feel the tears as they tracked across his face. "Don't let this kill you."
Sam's breathing paused again, Dean waited, counting the seconds. It lasted longer that time, the blood running across Sam's face. "You don't get to do this, Sam, hear me?" Dean growled. Sam took a shuddering breath. He laid his hand on Sam's chest so he could feel each breath as it came in, each beat of his heart. It all caught up with him in that moment.
How? How had he let it come to this? Sam so afraid of Dean that he was hiding? Taking the word of someone else over his brother? Even if that someone else was an angel. Yeah, a jerk angel. He didn't even take Sam's hand. His brother had been so pleased to meet the angel too, Dean saw it in his face, heard it in his voice. Then the asshole was going to refuse to take his hand. He finally did, but… Who knew angels could be such jerks?
"Dean?" Sam whispered.
"Sammy?" Relief flooded through Dean's body. "Can you open your eyes for me?"
"My head hurts," Sam said quietly. He opened his eyes, blinked and closed his eyes again.
"I know." Dean shaded Sam's eyes with his hand. "Open your eyes, come on, I need to check, you know the drill."
"Okay," Sam said, opening his eyes. "Thanks."
Dean checked his brother's pupils, then looked closely at the eyes themselves, looking for any sign of hemorrhage. "Can you move? Arms, legs?" Sam shifted his hands a little, then moved his legs. "Good boy, Sam." Dean sagged. "Want to try sitting up?"
"Okay," Sam said tonelessly.
"On three." Sam closed his eyes, Dean helped Sam up and moved him so he could lean against the wall of the chapel. Sam dropped his head in his hands.
"That wasn't three." Sam's voice was flat.
"I didn't want you to tense up, you always do." Dean shifted so he was sitting beside his brother. "How's your head?"
"I think it might explode."
"What? Sam, maybe I should…" Panic blasted through Dean's body with a physical force, he had his hand wrapped around Sam's arm, ready to drag him up.
"I was kidding. Well, mostly." Sam's shoulders drooped.
"Do you need a doctor, Sam?" Dean realized he was still gripping Sam's arm with a death hold. He dropped his hand. "Sammy?"
"Are you leaving?" Sam said from behind his hands.
"I have my phone, I can call 911, if you need…"
"No, Dean, are you leaving?" Sam turned so he was looking at him through his hands.
"Do you need something from the car?" he asked, deliberately misunderstanding.
"No, Dean." Sam sighed and lifted his head. His nose was still bleeding, he had tears in his eyes. "I… Dean…" He drew a ragged breath. "I did try to use the knife, Dean. He knocked it out of my hands." A tear broke loose. "I wanted to keep my promise, Dean, I just didn't know what to do." Sam put his head back in his hands, something that sounded a lot like a soft sob escaped.
Oh god, Sammy, did I do this to you? "Sam?" he said gently.
"I didn't know, I didn't want the angel destroying the town because of my mistake. I just wanted…" Another sob. "Dean, please…"
"Please don't leave."
"Don't leave. Please. I… Dean… without you… I…" The sobs were flowing together. "Don't leave."
"Sam…" Dean swallowed, trying to keep the tears from overflowing and choking him to death. "I…"
"You are leaving?" Sam curled in on himself. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sorrysorrysorry." The word blended into one, Sam's shoulders were trembling.
"Sammy!" Dean grabbed Sam and shook him, gently at first then harder, trying to get his brother's attention. "SAM!" Finally, his brother looked up, tears had blended with the blood on his face. "You listening to me?" Dean asked, Sam nodded. "I'm not going anywhere, Sammy. Not now, not ever."
"But I… After I said I wouldn't, Dean."
"I know and Sammy, you can't do that anymore."
"Dean…" Sam's eyes welled up again.
"Listen to me. I watched. It could have killed you, nearly did, Sam. Maybe that's just this one time, maybe it's something that will happen again."
"It doesn't usually do that."
"It did this time, Sammy." Dean sighed. "I'm not going to lose you to something like that. I'm not."
"Can you… will you…?"
"Forgive me?" Sam whispered.
"Sam…" Dean took a deep breath. "There's nothing to forgive, or maybe it's both of us. Shit, I'm sorry, Sam. Forgive me?"
"Dean?" Sam looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since he got back from his trip to hell. Dean met his brother's eyes.
Without realizing what he was doing, Dean leaned forward until his forehead was resting on Sam's shoulder. He put his hand on Sam's chest. "I'm so sorry, Sammy."
Sam's arm wrapped around his shoulder. "I'm sorry, too. For everything."
"You're not leaving?" Sam said, his voice barely audible.
"Not unless you ask. You don't want me to go do you?" Dean asked, the fear he'd held against his heart since he returned suddenly vocalized. He'd been terrified since he'd come back that maybe Sam didn't need him anymore, maybe didn't want him around anymore. He lived four months without me, why would he want me back? He did fine without me.
"No!" Sam nearly shouted. "No!"
"Well that's settled." Dean stayed where he was for a moment longer. It was like coming home, finally, after so long, coming home.
"Yeah." Sam said, tightening the arm around his shoulders.
"Think anyone will give us candy?" Dean asked, pulling away, smiling at Sam.
"The way we look they might," Sam smiled back, brushing the tears off his face.
"Your nose is still bleeding a little. If it's not stopped by the time we get back to the motel, I'm taking you to the ER."
"Okay, but I'm sure it'll stop."
"Right." Dean pushed himself up and offered his brother a hand. Sam took it without hesitation. Dean felt another wave of relief wash over him. "Let's go find chocolate."
"And candy corn."
"That stuff is disgusting," Dean said, picking up the knife. He held it then handed it to Sam.
"And those pumpkins like candy corn."
"Oh stop, you're going to kill me." Dean made a gagging noise.
"And maybe some hard candy."
"Hard candy? When you can get chocolate? You always were broken when it came to Halloween candy."
"I just learned to like the leftovers you always got the day after."
"I got chocolate too," Dean said, pretending to be offended.
"Yeah, you did." Sam smiled as they walked out. "So, candy corn?"
"No. I told you no candy corn." Dean paused, a smile growing on his face. He hadn't said it in a very long time. "Bitch."
Sam stopped and looked at him, and answering grin lighting his face. "Jerk."
Yep, coming home. Finally. I'll worry about tomorrow when it comes. After I tell that jerk angel it was MY BROTHER and me that saved this town.