Theme Prompt - Building

It always came down to this somehow. The fights and the blood and the deaths building up to an impossible choice. The world on one hand and family on the other. After listening to Death’s explanation, and his offered solution, Dean couldn’t do anything but stare at the being he’d called. Death was terrifying but there was also something... not quite human but at least relatable about him. They shared a love of greasy food and Dean couldn’t help but capitalize on it every time he called Death for a favor.

At first, he didn’t even consider Death’s offer. There was no way he could ever consciously harm his brother. How could Death even expect him to kill Sam? But, as Dean thought about Death’s offer, he realized it was the best choice in a shitty slew of choices. What else could he do? Let Sam remove the Mark with the Book of the Damned and let the Darkness free? Live with the Mark and hope he could keep it in check? That only ended in more blood and innocents dead, as Cain proved. The only way to save as many people as possible, and keep the Darkness locked wherever God put it, was to take Death up on his offer.

So Dean called Sam, let his brother find him in the Mexican restaurant he’d holed up in. The hope and worry on Sam’s face when he walked into the restaurant sent a pang through Dean’s chest. Sam still believed there was a way out, that removing the Mark was more important than anything else. Maybe he even believed that whatever happened afterwards, they could deal with. Dean didn’t believe anymore. All he knew was that this had to be done. The only problem was convincing Sam.

And Sam reacted exactly as Dean expected on being told he needed to die. What sane person would just accept it willingly, after all? A lot could be said about both of them but they both had a sense of self-preservation that wouldn’t let them die for no reason. They had to be convinced it was the right thing to do in order to go to their deaths. It took some harsh but true words from Dean, and a reminder from Death that Sam had avoided their last appointment, before Sam was convinced of the merit of the idea. Everyone around them was dying, they killed more innocents than saved anymore. Their lives had started out as hunting monsters and saving people but had built to a supernatural version of a nuclear meltdown. No one was safe anymore and all they did was cause more harm.

Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing, couldn’t believe that this was his brother talking. Dean had convinced him to come back to the life, to save the people they could by hunting. They were good. This couldn’t be Dean. Finally, Sam couldn’t bear hearing anymore and snapped. He threw a punch at Dean, hoping to defeat whatever had taken the form of his brother. Or, if this was really Dean, to knock some sense into him. They fought back and forth, fists flying and grunts sounding when punches landed. But Sam had almost never been able to beat his brother. He was knocked to his knees and Dean kept punching. Several blows landed on Sam’s face, each more painful than the last. He felt his face split open, the sharp scent of blood filling the air. And Sam knew he had lost.

“All right,” Sam finally said, voice breathless as he spoke. He looked up at Dean, the side of his face bruised and bloody. There was pain on his face, the pain of truth mingled with hope finally disappearing. “I’ll do it.”

Sam struggled to keep his breathing steady and even but failed. He was terrified even as he was convinced this was the right thing to do. The ingredients for the spell were nearly impossible to find, even for Cas. This was the only way to save the world. He’d dived into Lucifer’s cage in Hell to save the world. Dying would be so much easier. At least there was the possibility of not being tortured for an eternity by merely dying. He looked up at Dean, fighting back tears. He wasn’t going to make this harder for his brother.

“If you’ll do me the honor,” Death said when Dean looked at him. Death handed over his scythe to Dean and both Winchesters sucked in a deep breath. Neither had thought that Dean would be the one to kill Sam.

Dean hefted the scythe, staring down at Sam. There was a determined expression on his face though his eyes were full of pain. He had to do this. There was no other good way to keep people safe. Besides, the world was probably better off without them in it. They’d stopped doing good a long time ago.

“Close your eyes,” Dean told Sam when he couldn’t bear looking into his brother’s eyes anymore. He couldn’t kill Sam when he was looking at him like that.

Sam didn’t shake his head but it was a close thing. He just stared at Dean, still struggling to keep the tears back. They prickled in his eyes and so many were gathering that it felt like he was looking at Dean from underwater. Still, he didn’t close them. Not yet. Just a few more moments of seeing, of life. Part of him still fought his decision to die, especially when Dean took Death’s scythe. It was more visceral, more final, if it were Dean that killed him rather than Death.

“You will never convince me that you are anything but good,” Sam whispered in a last ditch effort to convince Dean of his side. He waited with baited breath, praying to a God he was sure wasn’t listening that Dean would believe him. There was a softening in Dean’s eyes and Sam felt hope jolt through him. But that hope faded when Dean took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

“Sammy, close your eyes,” Dean said, voice tender and soft. It was the same voice Dean had used when they were young and Sam hadn’t been able to sleep because of nightmares. It was the voice that young Sam had clung to when the darkness threatened to overwhelm him. Dean could feel the same pain that was clear on Sam’s face. It would kill him to kill his brother. But it had to be better than the alternatives. It had to be.

Sam stared at Dean for another timeless moment, trying to gather the courage to close his eyes. He dropped his head and finally let his eyes slip closed, a tear tracking down his cheek. To have everything they’d worked for end like this hurt worse than he’d ever believed. Hurt worse than Dean thinking he was a monster, than holding Ruby for Dean to stab her, than losing Dean and Castiel when Dick exploded, than killing himself to complete the trials to close Hell. He waited in frozen silence, muscles tense in order to keep himself in place. Maybe he’d end up going to Heaven and see the family he’d lost.

“Forgive me,” Dean said, taking a deep breath and swinging the scythe. It whistled over Sam’s head and Sam flinched. Dean continued the swing, turning his body smoothly and slamming the scythe into Death’s side. It pierced him completely, the end of the curved blade sticking out of Death’s other side. For a moment, Dean thought he saw understanding and... gratefulness on Death’s face before he crumbled.

Sam’s eyes whipped open as he heard the scythe slam into something that was decidedly not him. He watched with wide, amazed eyes as Death died. He got to his feet, breathing hard and feeling lightheaded at the fact that he was still alive. He and Dean exchanged glances and Dean shrugged. Nothing happened, silence reigned in the restaurant. The scythe had crumbled away with Death, leaving them alone in the place.

“Uh, are you okay?” Sam asked, the first question that came to his mind.

“Fantastic,” Dean replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I think I killed Death.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied inanely, shaking his head. They’d made it through and they were both still alive. Maybe there was a better way out of this after all. As he opened his mouth to say so, thunder rumbled in the distance. A bolt of lightning ripped through the ceiling and latched onto Dean’s arm. He heard Dean scream, his arm held straight out from him. The Mark disappeared slowly, scrubbed away by the lightning. Then the lightning disappeared and silence reigned again.

“It’s gone,” Dean said, amazement and a touch of fear in his voice. “The Mark. It’s gone.”

“The spell,” Sam said, staring at his brother’s clean arm. “Cas and Rowena must have managed to cast the spell.”

They both looked around, bodies tensed. Death had said the Mark kept the Darkness at bay. Now that it was gone, was it going to attack them? How would they even fight it? Darkness was incredibly vague and unenlightening. Did it have physical form? Was it like demon smoke? Something they couldn’t even imagine? But nothing happened and Sam felt the vaguest stirrings of hope again. Maybe they were okay. Maybe, just maybe, this time they were going to get away without causing more damage.

“Let’s go find Cas,” Dean said as he grabbed one of the tamales from the platter on the bar. “I don’t know what the spell needed but we should make sure he’s okay.”

“Yeah, and check on Rowena,” Sam muttered as he snuck a handful of nacho chips and followed after Dean. “I don’t know what the last two ingredients for the spell were and we need to make sure she’s still chained.”

They stepped outside and the last vestiges of peace and hope they carried disappeared. The sky rumbled and roiled, dark clouds rolling in. Thunder cracked across the sky as dark lightning strike after dark lightning strike hit the ground around them. Then, the ground cracked as black smoke shot up out of it. The smoke gathered together into a giant cloud in the field nearby, growing and growing. When it seemed like the cloud couldn’t grow any further, it exploded and Darkness rushed towards them. It was eerily familiar, like a rush of demons heading towards them. But it was just dark, no red lightning streaks that denoted individual demons.

They ran to the Impala, hoping to get away from the gathering cloud. Dean threw the Impala into reverse after it rumbled to life, praying that they could get away in time. But fate was not on their side, not this time. The Impala’s rear tire slipped into a pothole, making Dean’s head nearly hit the roof. Sam’s did and he grunted at the impact. The tires spun as Dean tried to get them out of the pothole, muddy water spraying out behind them. No matter how he gunned the engine, they were stuck solid. And the Darkness was nearly upon them. The last thing Dean saw before he closed his eyes and braced for an impact was roiling black smoke just outside the windshield.

A few seconds passed and nothing happened. Both Winchesters opened their eyes hesitantly and looked out the windshield. A golden light filled their eyes, holding back the Darkness roiling in front of them. A human form stood in the center of that light, arms outstretched and six golden brown wings spread out protectively. Sam gasped when the head turned to reveal Gabriel’s tawny eyes and mocking smirk.

“What the hell did you two muttonheads do now?” Gabriel screamed above the howling cloud. “Wait, don’t tell me. Get out and run! I’ll hold the Darkness back long enough for you to get some distance. Run!”