Title: Live And Let Die

Summary: A choice between Sam and well, pretty much anyone… is not a choice at all. Jack learns that lesson the hard way. Hurt/Comfort. Season 15.

Warnings: Rated R for bad language, violence, blood loss, poisoning. Spoilers up to and including season 15.

Disclaimer: I don't own the artwork or the show.

"Brothers aren't simply close, brothers are knit together"
– Robert Rivers

Jack does not understand.

He thinks there is only one dimension of love, that once you have opened your heart to someone they give back in equal measures until the end of time.

He thinks it's that simple. But it's not.

Cas has been around the human species long enough to know better. More specifically, Cas has been around the Winchesters long enough to know better. And he knows with every fiber of his celestial being that Sam and Dean don't love anyone the way they love each other.

It's a lesson everyone in the lives of the brothers had to learn at some point. Yes, they do let people into their hearts. Yes, they might kill or die for the people they care about, but never at the expense of each other. It is a universal truth, something as commonly known in the hunter community as it is within the cemented walls of the bunker. Sam and Dean would let the world burn for each other.

Jack does not understand.

He runs around the bunker like an excited puppy dog, too happy to be with his two favorite humans to notice much else. Too focused on the brothers' attention, too desperate for their affection to notice the way these two gravitate toward one another. The way they move in sync, exchange whole conversations without a word spoken, fight and make up again, tease and quarrel and prank and laugh and eat and discuss and plan and research together. Jack does not mind their unnatural closeness. He accepts them for a two-in-one deal that was granted to him like some sort of heavenly present. Dean with his tough love and authoritative approach, Sam with his empathetic nature and knack for words. They make a good combo in every way, have known nothing else but to complement each other all their lives. Jack sees them like a well-oiled machine, a double support-system that will never fail him. But he does not understand that this love - the crazy-protective-codependent-'I'd-go-to-the-end-of-the-world-for-you'-love will only ever be witnessed, but never felt.

Jack does not understand. He mimics them and drinks beer like he actually enjoys it when Castiel knows there is no pleasure taken from alcohol for an entity like Jack. He eats dinner like he actually needs it, but Cas knows he does it for the sake of the Winchesters' company. He uses the Laptop Sam has given him to research pop culture references that Dean makes and to watch Netflix shows that Sam has recommended to him.

And then one day, while they are sitting around the bunker's mapping table researching the latest case, Jack asks Sam for one of the books on 'Coquadrilles and where to find them' and it happens. Jack calls Sam 'Sammy'.

Cas' head snaps up from his book and Dean's brunette hair pikes up over the top of his laptop as though an invisible hand had yanked his head up.

"Jack," Cas warns, feeling a sudden unease in his chest. "Sam does not appreciate getting called by his childhood nickname."

"But Dean calls him Sammy all the time," Jack protests because Jack is still so young and naïve and from whatever little human interaction he has witnessed on earth so far, he can clearly detect the tenderness in Dean's voice whenever he calls his brother 'Sammy'. He might even subconsciously want to induce the same effect that nickname always seems to have on Sam when Dean uses it… The way his hazel eyes grow soft and fond and his mouth twitches up ever so slightly in the corners into that little-boy-smile that makes him look thirty years younger. Humans are so fascinating. And complicated. And irrational.

And Jack does not understand.

"That's different," Cas chides softly, wishing for the Nephilim to drop the issue and go back to his book because that will be easier on all of them than to actually delve into the rather complex dynamics of the two Winchester men.

"It's… it's just a brother thing," Sam explains softly, shrugging one of his shoulders in an effort to ease the tension.

"Oh," Jack says with a thoughtful expression on his face and goes back to reading.

Sam hands Jack the book on Coquadrilles, pointing at a particularly interesting paragraph and explaining something about poisonous dragons in medieval folklore. Cas knows Sam is subconsciously distracting Jack from the realization that while Sam loves being a father figure in Jack's life, he loves being Dean's little brother more.

Cas does not miss the smug little smile on Dean's lips before his head slowly vanishes behind the laptop screen once again.

It's another one of these moments that pass wordlessly between them because it doesn't require conversation.

Two weeks and a whole lot of research later and Sam comes down with some sort of flu in the middle of the Coquadrille case. Turns out the creature they are hunting is some sort of Basilisk instead of a Coquadrille and just when another victim shows up dead close to Lebanon, Sam starts sporting a fever and can't really seem to get out of bed, much less be of any real use during the hunt.

Dean enlists the hunt of Cas and Jack instead, ordering his stubborn brother to stay in bed after he carries a ridiculous amount of blankets and pillows into Sam's room and makes him eat at least half a bowl of the infamous 'John Winchester Kitchen Sink Stew'. He tells Cas to stay in the bunker with Sam, putting him on babysitting duty and while Cas is worried for Jack's safety, he knows that after what happened with Mary, Dean may trust Jack with his own life, but he only trusts Cas with Sam's.

He still can't help a half-hearted protest as he follows Dean down the bunker's hallway. "You know I could just heal Sam and—"

"I thought we agreed you'd save your mojo for the big fight against Chuck," Dean cuts him off with a shake of his head. "Nah, with how things are looking and Amara bailing out on us, we need every bit of your and Jack's angel juice for the big showdown. Besides... it's just the flu. Sam's had worse."

That much is true, at least. Sam has had worse. Which is why Dean should really stop mother-henning his brother and force-feeding fluids down his throat and get going.

By the time Castiel returns to Sam's room after having gotten a bottle of water for Sam on Dean's orders, Dean is finally putting on his jacket (the one he uses for FBI covers) and pockets the keys to the Impala. But instead of following Dean outside, Jack hovers by Sam's bed a little longer. Jack smiles down affectionately at Sam's feverish and flustered form before leaning in to ruffle the younger Winchesters hair. "Goodbye... bitch."

Dean's eyebrows climb up to his hairline, whether in shock or in an affront, Cas can't be sure. If he has to guess, he would say the latter.

And Jack doesn't understand.

"Jerk," Sam mutters in his half-feverish state, eyes not even fully open and Jack looks up at Cas and Dean with a million-dollar-smile, as though he'd just won the lottery because he knows this is the correct response. What he doesn't know is that the response isn't really meant for him.

And while Dean might have allowed the 'Sammy'-slip the other day, this one hits a little too deep even while his tolerance is generally a lot higher where Jack is concerned.

It's Winchester-101. You do not call Sam 'Sammy', you do not mess with Sam's hair and you most certainly not EVER - under any circumstances - call Sam 'bitch' or Dean 'jerk' if your last name isn't Winchester. Cas should have put together a list for Jack. Maybe he should have written a handbook. Or a set of Winchester-related instructions. Because Bitch and Jerk is classic Winchester code word for...

"This isn't… you can't—" Dean is so horrified - so pissed - he can't even seem to get the words out. He towers over Jack, his whole body bristling with protectiveness, chin lifted and chest puffed out and fingers curled like he's actually considering…

His eyes are wild, flying from Sam to Jack and back to Sam and he's torn between irrational anger and hurt and maybe jealousy (deciphering human emotions is hard) and none of it makes sense. Jack is just a kid... he's just trying to find his spot in their family without realizing that Sam and Dean of their own.

He doesn't understand.

"Dean," Cas tries to explain. "He didn't mean to—"

"Shut up," Dean hisses and then turns back to Jack, who's smile has now faltered. Dean hesitates because he knows Jack didn't mean anything by it but there are certain privileges he considers to be his and only his when it comes to Sam and as far as language goes, these two rather disturbingly offensive terms are sacred to the brothers. And they are exclusive.

"You don't get to call him that," Dean says somewhat calmly but there is an intensity in the words, in his eyes, that make Jack shrink into himself even further. "Not ever. Understood?"

Jack looks hurt and confused. He nods and then ducks out of the room and Cas has never been more furious with Dean in his life. He stares at the older Winchester with burning accusation in his eyes, but Dean's face remains stoically calm, his cool gaze settling back on his feverish brother.

"Dean. Was that really necessary?"

"Keep an eye on him," Dean simply says with a nod toward Sam before he strides out of the room.

Somewhere out there in the bunker Jack wonders why Dean is mad at him and doesn't understand a thing.

When they finally hunt down that Basilisk, Sam is still a bit shaky on his legs and Dean is still hovering a bit closer than usually, a bit more distracted by his brother's vulnerability. And that is when Sam trips, long legs kicking up dirt and dust as he crawls through the dirt, grappling for some sort of leverage to pull himself back to his feet. "SAM!" Dean's voice echoes through the woods and he hits the ground running, not even noticing that Jack is also in the basilisk's field of vision. The creature utters a loud shriek, followed by a whip of its tail and then it's moving in on Sam, snake-like and fast, eyes blitzing yellow in the dark. Jack cries out a warning for Sam and the Basilisk is caught off guard, sensing another prey closeby. It looks AT Jack and then at Sam and back to Jack and by the time Dean has reached them both, there's not enough time to think things through. He sees Sam on the ground, vulnerable, still half-sick and not up for a fight and makes a decision.

Just as the Basilisk yanks open its gigantic mouth revealing sharp fangs and a forked tongue, Dean jumps in front of Sam like a human shield and the basilisk spews poison onto an unprotected Jack. Flesh starts to sizzle and burn and Jack is writhing on the ground, crying out in agony. Cas barges forward and manages to ram the knife dipped in lamb's blood into the monster's back, causing it to slither away into the woods.

He drops the knife and runs over to Jack, instinctively pressing two fingers against the writhing boy's forehead. There is no question about saving his powers or storing his mojo for the grande battle against Chuck. Jack is hurt and Castiel knows how to make it stop and there is absolutely no question about what to do next. He knows Dean would be begging him to use his grace to save Sam if he was the one who got hit and he wishes he never would have listened to Dean about saving his angel grace in the first place.

"Cas, we shouldn't—" Dean starts, but drops silent as soon as he sees and hears Jack's pain for himself. "Crap, never mind. This is bad." He grips Jack's upper arm while Cas' grace heals the wounds on his neck, torso and face, easing the agony that courses through Jack's body until his yells temper off into wails and then finally, gasps. He's okay. Breathing heavily and sweaty and looking startled and confused, but safe and healthy and whole again. "What—"

"You got attacked," Cas fills in. "Are you okay?"

"I…" Jack runs both his hands over his own chest, looks up at Dean. "I think so. Is Sam—"

"Fine," Sam grunts from somewhere nearby, pulling himself to his feet, dusting off his jeans, breathing like he just ran a marathon. "I'm fine."

And Jack looks relieved about it because he is pure and innocent and good. Because he cares about others more than he cares about himself.

While Sam and Dean only care about each other.

Jack is their responsibility, their child in every way that matters and that should mean that he is their priority, that he is the single-minded focus of their protective efforts. But then again… Castiel has lost count over how often Dean has chosen Sam over him in the past. How often both of the Winchester brothers have chosen each other over the world. This isn't even something Cas can hold against them because he has always known how the brothers' dynamics work and he has come to accept it a long time ago. It's their default mechanism. It's the only thing they have ever known. And nothing and no one will ever be able to change that.

But Castiel gets angry sometimes. He sometimes wonder if they are even aware of what their connection does to the people who know and love them. How it makes everyone feel expendable to them, like their existence is a nice addition in the brothers' life but ultimately unnecessary. Even with John and Mary and Bobby and Charlie and Jody... there is always that unspoken knowledge that no matter how important they were to the boys, the brothers had survived all these losses rather easily. But they could never survive losing each other. Castiel knows it's the same for him and Jack. That they too, are expendable.

But Jack doesn't understand.

Later, when they are back at the bunker, Jack captures Cas' wrist and looks up at the angel intently. "You're mad at Dean. Because he protected Sam in the woods... and not me."

Castiel's gaze drops away, his shoulders sinking in defeat. "Jack..."

"You know, I really thought they cared about me."

Cas' expression crumples. "Jack… they do."

He might get angry at them sometimes, but Cas doesn't question the Winchester's loyalty toward him and Jack for one second.

Cas sighs. "They are just... You've got to understand that they've only ever had each other."

"That's not true. They have us now, too."

"They do," Cas agrees softly. "But they don't need us as much as they need each other." He thinks back on all the times he has witnessed one brother without the other, how lost the remaining brother always seemed, how distraught and broken-hearted and absolutely unable to cope or function by themselves. "There is one thing you need to understand, Jack. Sam and Dean, they are not just related by blood… their souls are connected, too."

"Connected how?" Jack frowns.

"Bonded," Cas replies with a small smile. "That means after they die, they'll share an afterlife. It's very rare. But it's why they are the way they are."

Jack's frown deepened. "Do they know?"

"Know what?"

"That their souls are… bonded?"

Cas contemplates it for a second. "I think they might have a suspicion."

The words make Jack beam and the shift of expressions is so sudden it almost gives Cas a headache. "They are like two halves of the same person. Just that Dean is a lot grumpier."

Cas ducks his head, allowing Jack's naïve interpretation to wash through him like a balm to his frayed nerves. He feels as though this battle against Chuck is going to cost them more than usually. As though it will demand a bigger sacrifice than an archangel possession or the loss of one member of 'team free will'. This time, they are up against someone so much more powerful than them and maybe… just maybe, this will be it. The final Winchester battle.

"One day they will die, Jack," Cas says, trying desperately not to think 'one day soon'. "And it will be final."

Jack seems to think about it for a moment.

"But they will be together in the end, right?"

Cas sees a million memories flash before his eyes, from Ruby to Dick Roman and the Darkness, from betrayal and anger and tears and loss and revival, to hell and purgatory and heaven and back, to Mary and John and Michael and Lucifer and he always, always sees them together.

"That's what really matters, right?"

And Cas puts his hand on Jack's shoulder and squeezes tightly. "Right."

Maybe Jack understands, after all.

The End.

A/N: Thank you all for reading. If you liked it, please be so kind to drop me a few words below :) Reviews are love.