Chapter Text
Bobby and Cas didn’t hold their punches: it would be permanent and forever. There wasn’t going to be a cure or a last minute miracle and that changed the nature of their evening; it wasn’t a goodnight but a goodbye and the bitch of it was that Dean didn’t know.
No, the real bitch of it was that the brother Sam loved and known all his life would be gone come the morning. Gone, as if he’d never existed and in his place…
Don‘t tell him, Sam. Not a word, you promise me boy.
Bobby’s wretched devastation had been warning enough and realisation had sunk in quickly for Sam. The information was sketchy but Bobby told him that when the final stage of the curse hit, Dean would fall into a deep sleep at midnight and the man who woke in his place would be different. Not him but a Stepford wife clone; beautiful but a stranger in all the ways that mattered.
“I’m not Sleeping fucking Beauty,” Dean had griped, trying to play it for laughs. Sam’s mind had gone to another time he’d lost his brother at that hour and he’d felt such a keening sense of loss he could have sobbed.
We’ll tell him it’s for seven days.
“Lighten up, dude, it’s just for a week. And then I’ll be --”
Gone forever.
“-- back to my awesome self in no time.”
They sat perched on the saggy twin beds in the crappy motel and clinked beers. The scene was so familiar, played out in hundreds if not thousands of other crappy motel rooms and so fucking normal Sam found himself blinking back tears.
It was 11:50.
Ten minutes left. That was all. Ten miserly minutes left with the big brother who’d always been there for him, who’d practically raised him and been a better father than John ever could have aspired to be; who’d mothered him in the absence of Mary; who’d never said a word about those long four years when Sam was at Stanford and Dean had missed him so much he’d had to reach out and hope that he wouldn’t be rejected again – only for his brother to either hung up on him or yell to be left the fuck alone. He flinched when he thought back to that; Dad had pretty much turned his back on Sam then but he’d done worse by leaving Dean the way he’d had, turning all his anger and bitterness on to the one person who’d always loved him unconditionally. Sam knew what he’d been doing; he’d heard it in the tone of his voice and could picture the flicker of pain in his brother’s eyes and a part of him, the part that he hated and wanted to bury, had relished it.
Over the years there’d been many sacrifices and Sam knew he was only aware of the tip of the iceberg. They were sacrifices a brother who was only four years older should never have made. It was four years age difference - that was all. The difference was enough to be a slightly older sibling but not a parent. At college Sam had friends who’d enrolled as mature students, who were several years older and who’d never had half the responsibility his brother had at age ten. Even then he’d never given it much thought, just taken it for granted that Dean’s role as care giver was firmly established. When Sam looked back at their childhood he didn’t like what the saw; they’d had it tough and Sam had been selfish enough to make it that bit tougher for his brother.
And Sam was going to lose Dean. Lose everything his brother was and had been to him.
Dean yawned and snuggled back on to the bed as exhaustion set in. The curse, Sam knew and his heart skipped a beat. Dean grinned tiredly at his beer. “One duh-drink and I’m w-wasted?” He was slurring his words but looked more stoned than drunk to Sam. “I think the buh-bitch tuh-turned me into a ch-cheap duh-d-date, Sammy.”
Bobby had fled an hour ago, his eyes misting as he hurried to leave before Dean noticed his tears. He’d wiped his face roughly before grabbing and hugging Dean hard. “See you in the morning, boy,” he’d rasped.
It was just the two of them now. They were nearly out of time and Sam’s gaze kept returning to his watch, his misery increasing with each passing minute.
Time was slipping through his fingers and there was nothing he could do. It was going to happen and it couldn’t be overturned. Such a stupid, innocuous, harmless sounding spell the witch had thought she’d gifted Dean, rewarding him for his kindness and she’d smiled as she’d spoken. She’d given his brother a death sentence and the bitch had smiled.
Later, when Sam found her, she’d stuttered she was granting Dean the life he should have had, that his brother would be reborn, younger, more true to who he should have been. To some extent she’d been right, Dean did deserve better, he’d witnessed his stable life savagely torn away at an early age and then because of his devotion to this family he gave up the little that remained. So yeah, Dean did deserve more but not at the cost of having everything he was ripped away from him and to not even be himself anymore; to be reduced to a fucking meat suit.
After she’d stammered there was no way to reverse it Sam made sure she’d died screaming. When Bobby found him Sam had been elbow deep in her blood and entrails and the older man stared at him like he was a monster. The scene was constantly preying on the older man’s mind, Sam saw the wary looks directed at him and sure, he could fake regret but the truth was he had none. Given the opportunity he would do exactly the same again and Bobby knew it.
==
Dean was struggling to keep his eyes open and Sam grabbed the beer from his suddenly useless fingers before it spilt over the already grubby bed cover. It was as he leant over Dean that his brother clutched his face and pulled him close. His green eyes were feverish but very much aware, his breath hot on his Sam’s face.
“I’m not an idiot, Sam. I know what this is. I’m not coming back, am I?"
Of course Dean would know, he’d see right through their crappy subterfuge. That didn’t stop him from pleading ignorance. “I don’t --”
“Sam,” Dean admonished and that was it. Sam was done. His heart fractured and he could feel that tiny barrier holding back all his hurt weakening under the weight of his pain. He gulped deep breaths as Dean looped his arms around his neck.
“Tell Bobby… tell Bobby I love him like a dad. No, better.” Dean’s voice cracked with emotion and the effort he was taking to speak. He gave Sam a brave smile and somehow that hurt worst of all; his fucking brother protecting him to the very end. But Dean wasn’t finished. He pulled back so they could look into each other’s eyes. “And there’s a lot of crap between us Sammy but I love you too. More than anyone else. Always have, always will. You’re the best brother I could have had and I’d do anything for you, man.”