Work Text:
Author's notes: This is how "Dark Side of the Moon" should have ended
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He'd lost his faith a while ago, but when he'd seen all the things that he'd seen in heaven it was solidified. He'd put everything that he had, everything he was into his family...into Sam.
He'd sold his soul to save him only to have Sam turn on him, and for what? A demon. A demon who forced her way in between them, pushed them apart and broke the only thing that held Dean together...his and Sam's trust in each other. Their love for one another.
Dean knew that leaving his pendant behind would hurt Sam, and it wasn't that he was trying to do that purposely. He was just...done.
That pendant had defined Dean since he was a young boy; he never took it off. Never. And when Castiel wanted it, Dean knew at that moment that if Castiel lost it, he'd do whatever it took to kill himself an angel...but now? Not so much. It was a useless peice of junk that meant nothing.
It was a beacon that was supposed to burn bright in the presence of God.
God.
Who cares.
Dean didn't. Not anymore.
And it sure didn't represent the love that it once did a long time ago, not after Sam's continued betrayal with Ruby, and not after Dean saw what Sam's 'perfect' heaven was. Not after seeing that Sam's vision of paradise was everything without him.
But still, something burned deep inside Dean's soul. Something niggling at the back of his mind. Something that made Dean leave.
So he drove. All night. Back to that motel, after Sam fell asleep, some three hundred miles away. He drove.
Dean hoped that since the motel wasn't one of the best in the world, that maybe, just maybe, no one had cleaned the room.
He pulled the Impala into the spot right in front of the door of the room where they'd stayed. He looked around as he slid out from behind the wheel, the squeak of the door followed by the loud catch as the latch fell into place echoed through the parking lot.
Dean knelt down on one knee, pulled his lock-pick out and easily opened the door. He took one last look around and entered.
He let the door close and stood there staring at the trashcan and took a deep breath. He squatted down and looked inside. It was still there.
With shaky hands, Dean reached in and pulled out the necklace, letting the rope twist around his hand. He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes, his head bowed slightly.
He wasn't quite sure who he was thanking. All he knew was that he was just thankful that he still had the necklace. Whatever it meant...he still had that little bit of Sam that was still pure. Still innocent. Still his little brother.