Thanks for the reviews! I was kind of nervous of killing Sam like that so I'm glad people liked the twist. :) I told you if I got enough reviews I'd update tonight!
Dean sat and stared at his brother's limp body in shock. He couldn't believe it. He had lost his brother again. He had gone to hell for nothing. There was no tears running down his cheeks. He had cried all he could. He sat in stony silence, just staring at Sam's body in utter shock. He had experienced decades of torture for nothing. Just so he can see Sammy die yet another, even more, gruesome death. He gripped Sam's bloody hand, his head bowed.
"Dean." Castiel's voice came from behind. He whipped around.
"You sonofabitch," Dean growled, his voice shaking. "You could have stopped it..."
"Yes," Castiel agreed. "I could have."
Dean nodded, his fists clutched, and he swung at Castiel. Blood dripped from the nose.
"I've done everything you've wanted me to do so far," Dean said, his voice shaking. "And what do I get in return? I get to watch my brother die, again?!"
"All will be revealed in due time, Dean. You just need patience," Castiel told him, not even flinching at the punch.
"Patience?!" Dean raored. "My brother is DEAD! Why the HELL should I listen to you?"
"These things take time, Dean. You just need-"
"If you say patience again I'm gonna kick your ass!"
"Very well, I well leave you alone..." He glanced at Sam's dead body before leaving. Dean stood there, his fists still tightened. Angrily he grabbed the nightstand and threw it against the wall before he finally collapsed on the floor in rage filled tears.
Suddenly he couldn't stay there. He had to leave, get some air. As he left he ran to the end of the sidewalk and vomitated. Still shaking, tears falling from his face now, he slid into the car.
His brother was dead. He had died after Dean had yelled at him.
If I didn't know you, I would want to hunt you
He felt sick again. Was that really one of the last things he had said to his brother? That he'd want to hunt Sammy? Barely able to stand he managed to drag himself to the car and sit inside it, his whole body shuddering violently.
"Oh God, Sammy, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "So sorry."
"Dean," Sam's voice came from the side. He jumped and turned. There sat Sam, looking alive but healthy. He stared at him.
"No," he said, shaking his head. "You're dead! You died in my arms! Again!"
"Yes," Sam agreed, without blinking. "I did."
Dean moved his hand to the grab his bag.
"I'm not a revenant or a shapeshifter, Dean," Sam told him. Dean stared at him.
"How can I be sure?"
"You can't," Sam said. "All you can do is trust me. Do you trust me?"
"I trust my brother, but you're not him." Dean's voice couldn't stop shaking.
"I am though," Sam pressed gently. "I'm just different, that's all."
"Different how?" Dean spat and Sam just stared at him, serene calmness splashed over on his face.
"I'm an Angel Dean," he said, causing to stare at him, for the first time truly spechless...