fandomhigh | Library [10/08]

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Library [10/08]

Sure, today was a holiday in some strange, normal places. But this was Fandom, and that meant Sam was doing his usual Monday duty of getting the library open.

Odds are, he would have done it even if it was a holiday. Geek.

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"I wish I had an answer for that," Sam admitted quietly. "I really do."

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I'd love to believe there was some kind of higher power for good out there looking out for us, I really would. But, Sammy, I just don't see it. There's just too much evil and tragedy out there. If there is some kind of God or something, he's seriously falling down on the job here."

"But the whole world isn't just evil and tragedy," Sam replied. "That's all we see because of what Dad has us do, but that's not all that's out there. There are wonderful, amazing things out there, and I can't believe that it isn't the work of some higher power. There has to be someone out there looking out for us."

"So what?" Dean asked. "Mom was just a bad person then that she didn't get looked out for?" He knew he kept coming back to that, but it wasn't something he could just get past or overlook. It had changed his life -- all their lives -- and deep down inside there was still that little boy who just wanted to know why his mom went away.

Sam shook his head quickly. "No, I don't think that at all." He paused for a moment, wondering how badly Dean was going to kick his ass for what came next. "But think about how many people would be dead if Mom was still alive."

Dean flinched at that. He opened his mouth to say something, but all the protests, all the ways that was so wrong were all jumbled up and deprived him of words.

"I know you miss Mom," Sam said, "and I would pray every single day of my life if I thought it could bring her back. But I think that in some twisted way, she might have died so other people wouldn't have to. And in turn, I save my prayers for us."

"That's wrong," Dean said, finally finding his voice. "That's wrong. What did we ever do to be the sacrifice family? Why's our happiness and lives less important than everyone else's?"

Sam, of course, had an answer for that, but he didn't think Dean was going to like it.

"What?" Dean said, watching Sammy's expression."

"Could be my fault," Sam said.

"What?" Dean repeated, tone one of total disbelief. "Dude, you were six months old. What could you have done -- learned to sit up in an evil way that would offend God?"

"I don't know. But you don't think there's even a small chance that this could be my fault? I mean, Mom died in my nursery."

"No way. Absolutely not," Dean said shaking his head fiercely.

Dean's faith in that made Sam feel a lot better, even if he wasn't convinced that Dean was right. "Okay, so maybe that's not it. But I don't know what else it could be."

"Well it's not that," Dean told him firmly. "Yeah, our lives have sucked, but one thing that doesn't and has never sucked is having you for a brother. Even if you are a great big dork."

Sam couldn't avoid the embarrassed smile that came from Dean's words. "Thanks Dean," he said. "I feel the same way. Except you're not much of a dork, unless we're talking about cars."

"How long have you been blaming yourself?" Dean asked.

"Ever since I found out what really happened, I guess. It's just always been the explanation that makes the most sense, you know?"

"Dude, I wished you'd said something," Dean said, looking at his brother and shaking his head. "It's not your fault, Sammy. Dad will tell you the same thing."

"I know," Sam said seriously. "For all our problems with each other, I do know that he doesn't blame me for anything that happened to Mom."

"But you still think it's your fault."

"It's not like I can just flip a switch and change my entire thought process on this, just because it doesn't match what you and Dad think," Sam replied.

"Well then," Dean said, leaning back in his chair. "Guess I have my work cut out for me."

Sam sighed. "Dean, you don't have any work here."

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