Destiny ~ Dean Winchester (Love Story)

2

×Dean POV×

"So what you're saying is we have absolutely no new leads?", I asked my brother.

Truthfully, I didn't even pay attention to him during the last 5 minutes. In the end it was always the same. He explained the content of a bunch of sources on the Internet to me, getting my hopes up that we could possibly find some sign of Lilith, but it turned out to be a dead end.

Sam always argued with "Well it could be something."
Sure, it'd be a pretty good argument if it wasn't the only one left.
And every single time we investigated, maybe found some other supernatural issue we pursued, but never the right one.

Judging by his excited look, that wasn't the case this time. He straightened in his seat, then exhaled like he needed to restrict himself from saying something rude.

"Dean, did you even listen to anything I just said?"
It wasn't an accusation like I would've expected, like I would've maybe deserved.
No, he just sounded tired.

Well, now Sam made me feel like crap. The familiar guilt crippled up my spine like a spider.
Because these days he was never angry at me, just constantly frustrated. And it was all my fault.

Ever since I came back from Hell, Sam seemed to think that everything finally got better for the two of us. Just the pure knowledge that there was a counter side to the evil, that there are angels, seemed to give him a lot of comfort. Hope, even.

And it wasn't that I didn't believe in hope for humanity.
I just didn't believe that I personally, was worth to be granted a happy ending.
Not after who I've become in Hell, or rather what.

Castiel had summed it up in one simple sentence on the day he revealed himself as an angel.
"You don't think you deserve to be saved."

One thing I learned in my life as a Hunter was, that there was always a twist or some kind of catch. And I'd rather know mine now than be let down by false-hope again. Just getting saved like that couldn't possibly come without any strings attached and especially not for me.

I bet there were enough innocent souls who didn't crack under Alastairs torture who were actually fucking worth being rescued so why me?

If the angels were real I could only pray to every single one upstairs that I'd make it right again, that I'd somehow erase the bad that I've done to all those souls by stopping Lilith from breaking the seals.
That, at least, wasn't my fault.

Castiel explained to us, that it was a celestial imbalance that cracked the first one. Specifically, a nephilim being held in hell. So now we had to sweep up the angels mess, even though we were the humans here.

Maybe I was saved just to die all over again.

It was a reoccuring thought of mine, it came back to me reflexively. I anticipated that hell would hound me in my dreams, that i'd wake up sweating and screaming because i've dreamed of the souls I shattered because i've been too weak, too selfish, just not enough. But the worse was actually that I'd have to go back one day. I'd be trapped underground in a coffin and this time I wouldn't miraculously claw myself out of my own grave.  

But for the love of God, I couldn't bring myself to tell Sammy all of that. I knew he wasn't a little child anymore but still I wanted to protect him from my dark thoughts. If it meant lying to him then so be it.

He was looking at me suspiciously, clicking his pen for the fourth time in a row. Sam was just as impatient as me when it came to finding new clues about Lilith.

What he didn't know was that I searched for someone else too.
Well then again, maybe searching wasn't the right word.

You could compare it to that moment when you find a spider inside your room and you think that it's not that bad because you know exactly where it was and it couldn't hurt you.
Then, the real issue begins when you suddenly loose the spider.
That paranoia.