Hey everyone! I'm sorry this isn't an update of Blind and Alone. though i've been working on that too! The window has been up for a couple days now so maybe by tomorrow or Tuesday i'll have a new chapter for that one. But i was in the barn again this morning. ( I think i should just bring the laptop to work with me lol) and this idea popped into my head. I started it after dinner and now at 12:33AM i'm done!

Because of the quickness i wrote it I hope it doesn't have any mess ups.

I hope everyone enjoys this little oneshot. Lemme know and all that good stuff!

The hinges on the mangled vehicle screamed and cried as Sam used all of his remaining strength to pull it free from its latch.

Dad was gone…But Dean… he still had Dean. From the front seat he knew he was still breathing. He could hear him loud and clear. But gasping for air wasn't a good thing and Sam ignored his pain filled joints and muscles to pull himself out and get to his brother.

Dean. Oh god… Dean.

He was covered in red liquid. Red… everywhere. Sam couldn't find an unstained place anywhere on him as he lifted his brothers body as best he could from the car and tumbled backward onto the grass, falling right on his behind. His brother's weight was too much for his sore limbs and the fall left Dean lying on the grass in front of him. His gasping was coming out louder now from the rough handling and Sam fumbled back to his side to gather his head onto his lap.

"Dean! Can you hear me! What can I do?"

Sam needed Dean to tell him what to do. He needed an order! All those years of fighting his father's demands and now he needed one! His brother was bleeding all over his jeans but Sam didn't care… he didn't even notice as he rested his shaking hand on his brothers forehead. He began to "Pet" his brothers blood soaked hair and whether it was to comfort himself or Dean he would never know. Maybe it was both.

Dean was unresponsive now. Too much blood was lost. Way too much. His eyes remained open but his stare was on nothing particular as his battered lungs searched harder and harder with every moment to find what it needed to survive.

But it just wasn't coming.

"No Dean! You can't leave me! Not you too! Please!"

But Sam knew his brother couldn't hear him and with nothing left to comfort him… Sam cried.

He was going to be alone all over again. The first time he choose it but now it choose him.

NO! They couldn't take Dean! Not his Big Brother! Not him!

Sam wrapped his arms around his brother's upper torso and ignored the slippery feeling the blood caused as he held him tight. Maybe if he held on tight "they" couldn't take him! They'd have to get through his Sammy first!

But no matter how hard Sam held on it was no use as he felt his brother's body go limp in his arms. The gasping had ceased.

Sam paused for a minute, still holding onto his brother for dear life. Silence overcame as he turned his head to look down at the person who meant so much to him. The person who raised him and protected him…

"Dean?" His voice was low and child-like and received no answer.

"No…" he muttered. This wasn't how it was suppose to happen! Not to Dean! If he could have only moved that gun! He coulda stopped this whole thing in that piece of shit house! He could have stopped Dean from getting hurt! But he was weak! He was useless… It was his fault!

And with one last look down at his lifeless brother, Sam tilted his head and took a deep breath before screaming to the heavens at the unfairness of it all.

"NOOOO!" He screamed. He focused on the pain in his heart, as he now rocked what was once Dean Winchester… Hero… back and worth in his arms.

The anguish that overcame him kept him from noticing the flashing lights in the distance and the shrieking sirens in the air.

Nothing else in the world mattered now…

Sam sat up quickly, the sheets coming along for the ride as they clung to the moisture covering his shaking body.

A Nightmare…

No… a living nightmare. Though in the past… it was still real.

As real as they come…

The pale man took a few deep breaths, forcing the air that was strangled from him by his subconscious mind to return to his lungs. They were screaming at him, burning…


Why did this keep happening? Why did he have to relive the pain all over again? It was bad enough that terrible night was inflicted on him in real life. Now every evening he was given the task of dealing with it all over again.

His mind was his enemy as it conjured up such realistic memories… the smell of his brothers blood as it seeped out of his body and covered his own. The sound of the gurgled breaths he fought so hard to take. The cold… the cold he felt not just in his heart as he held his dying brother in his arms. No warmth… no body heat… like he was gone for hours. The taste of his own tears as they flowed freely from his eyes. Tears that he didn't even fight to release… for his brother deserved every last drop of them.

And the last sense. The worst one… Sight. The sight of his brother lying in front of him on his back… The position he was in that screamed "Defeated…"


The sight of his brother taking his last breathe in his arms... The shudder it had made as Dean's body stopped shaking… stopped convulsing…. Stopped moving.

All five senses on full alert and imprinted in the horrible nightmares he'd had since that night just a month ago.

Actually… exactly a Month to the day.

Thirty days had passed…

Oh God… had it been just thirty? Sam just couldn't believe it. Thirty days that felt like an eternity.

The youngest Winchester finally worked on releasing his bindings and bunched up the now soaking sheets. The floor became their new home. It didn't matter anyways. He wouldn't need them again tonight. Sleep would not be returning.

Sam attempted to lie back down, flirting with sleep but knowing he'd never submit to it. He just needed to relax his tense muscles.

Turning his head, he proceeded to fight the darkness, waging in a battle to see the figure sleeping nearby.

He was surprised he didn't look already. He was shocked at himself for not immediately leaping from bed and putting an ear to the form, focusing on each breath it took.

Disappointment flooded him in a rush. A rush that was almost like adrenaline… but never touching his heart. Only his brain was inflicted with the flooding. Where else would be more appropriate? His mind was the only place it could attack… seeping into what ever area that controlled guilt.

Sam shook his head at the thought and suddenly wished he could burn that area out. Guilt was something he didn't need right now.

This wasn't his fault. It wasn't.

He was just a baby! How could he have known that he was the reason for such deaths! His mother… his Jessica. All his fault! But… not. No. Samuel Winchester would NOT take responsibility for their deaths! He did not kill the ones he loved! How could he have known! But Dean… Dean was his fault… all his fault…

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, willing his mind to stop.

Yea… he'd really like to get rid of his Guilt Area. It was a pisser.

His eyes were pretty well adjusted to the dark now and he could finally see the rise and fall that he needed to witness.

The chest that once stopped moving all together, that was torn to shreds, was now doing its job. Up and down… Up and down.

Sam saw it with his own eyes as the paramedicsbrought his brother back to life. How Dean's mangled body could deal with such abuse and still work was beyond him but he wouldn't linger on it. He had his brother back and that's all that mattered. No… it wasn't his fault. Dean WASN'T his fault either! And he knew damn well Dean would tell him that… If he knew.

If Dean knew just how messed up Sam felt in his head about everything that had happened in his past he'd probably have him committed… once he could stand on his own.

Sam spent a whole month sleeping in a hospital chair watching his brother slip in and out of medicated sleep. The sleep would help him heal and keep him from doing something Dean-like. But Sam hated it. He hated when his big brother was asleep. He hated those hazel eyes closed. Dean was still so pale, so helpless. He sometimes looked… for lack of a better word… Dead. The visions from that night and his own nightmares followed him in awareness when Dean slept. But Sam controlled it, knowing that the monitors would tell a different story. Sam became attached to that heart monitor like it was his own lifeline. With each steady beep it relaxed his overactive nerves.

But now there were no monitors for Sam to look at. His "lifeline" was gone now and Dean was Sam's responsibility. It was his job to check his brother, to help him out. Now it was his turn.

The scars were still pretty bad. The invisible knife had sliced through more then just vital organs but muscle as well making movement more difficult then he had anticipated.

Dean was a mess… and he should have still been in the hospital.

But they had to leave abruptly earlier this morning, with Sam half carrying his brother out the "backdoor" when he overheard talk down the hallway as he stood in front of the coffee machine about credit card fraud. He didn't need to stick around to find out whom they were talking about.

So now here they were. Two extremely screwed up characters in one unsavory motel room. Without being able to use any of their fake credit cards all Sam could afford was some musty old motel on the outskirts of town. It just wasn't good enough for Dean to recover in. But it's all he could achieve.

Dean couldn't go any farther then that anyways and Sam didn't have enough money to pay a taxi to continue on.

His brother had to get out of the car. Sitting up straight and pretending you weren't just on deaths door is a hard feet to accomplish especially when the driver drove like he took his lessons at some NASCAR driving school. But Dean Winchester did it… and he did it with style when he swiped the money out of Sam's hand and ever so carefully handed it to the driver with a smart ass comment of "Thanks for the smooth ride" in the most sarcastic voice he had heard him speak in since before the … accident. Complete with an obviously fake smile. The driver had huffed at him and turned his head back to the money, counting it in plain view of his recent passengers.

Sam had needed that sarcasm, that smart-ass remark.

And now he needed to check on his brother.

Dean didn't have any troubles sleeping through the day once they got settled in the motel room. The meds he was given in the hospital had yet to leave his system but Sam knew soon he'd have to find a way to get him something else. Something worthy of the pain his brother was enduring. Dean deserved it.

But he'd worry about that when the sun came up. For now all he needed was to know his brother was ok… that he was still with him.

And Sam was about to acquire that information in the most childish way he could think of.

Sam's eyes lingered on his brother's form. Dean was on his back. No other position was comfortable with his marred chest. His arms were limp by his sides and his head was turned away from Sam.

Suddenly the young hunter felt a panicky feeling rise in his throat. That position… how his brother was lying… mimicked the way he rested in front of Sam the night he… he… ALMOST died!

Dean's position had to change.

This was unacceptable and Sam's heart began to race. He needed to change it! He needed Dean to move! Anything but just lay there like that night!

Without even thinking of how babyish the move was, Sam leaned down from the bed and picked up his shoe from the floor. Avoiding his brothers inflamed torso, Sam heaved the shoe in a underhanded throw and released it in the direction of his big brothers legs.

Sam watched as the impact caused his brothers form to jump and as he heard the deep intake of breath as Dean awakened, Sam ducked down to his pillow feigning sleep.

He could hear the soft rustle of Dean's head as he turned it on the pillow slowly, possibly in his direction. It was almost like he could even feel his brother's eyes on him, studying him, figuring things out as to why he was snapped awake.

A few minutes later when Sam was about to risk opening an eyelid, he heard the gentle tone of his brother.

"Lose something Sammy?" Dean's voice was filled with hints of sleep, but with no anger attached to it Sam opened his eyes to own up to the 5-year-old thing he had just done. It was a move that would have only been acceptable at that age range.

Dean's eyes were watching Sam, clearly aware that he was awake the whole time. There was still not one ounce of anger fusing in the older hunters eyebrows and that fact alone gave him strength to sit up and confess.

"Sorry…" He mumbled. He didn't know what else to say. 'I didn't mean to wake you' was a lie and 'Sorry big brother but I had to wake you up to calm my insane thoughts that you were dead again.' Was a bit too dramatic even if it were the truth.

"What did you throw?" Dean asked, trying to lift his head to see to his legs. That small movement generated a hiss noise and Sam watched as his brother returned his head to his pillow clearly exhausted from the small task that he didn't finish.

"It's a shoe… I'll get it." Sam's voice was sheepish and low as he lifted himself out of bed and padded over the 3 steps it took to get to his brothers bed.

"What did that shoe ever do to you?" Sam heard his brother mumble in what he could only guess was an amused tone but didn't reply.

Hegrabbed the shoe that had landed next to Deans left knee and tossed it to the floor at the foot of the bed. He stood up straight, avoiding his brothers watching eyes and went to turn back towards his bed when he stopped. The younger brother stared at the floor for a second before willing himself to look at his brother.

"Umm… Do you need anything?"

Dean just stared at him, searching his big brown eyes for something… an answer perhaps to the mysteries of his little brother. The feeling of his brother's eyes burning into his made him uncomfortable and squirmy. It didn't take long for him to break the hold and look away.

"No… Do you?" Dean replied. His tone was straight foreword. He knew there was something wrong and now Sam was caught in a fight with himself at being so stupid moments beforehand. Dean needed his rest. He shouldn't have woken him. The reasoning was stupid! And at that moment he actually did feel 5 years old.

"Me? No I'm good." Sam turned away again and stretched out onto his blanket-less bed trying desperately to end the conversation.

Dean sighed and accepted Sam's answer enough to not push it farther. He knew when Sam closed himself off there was no use trying. Sam was grateful that his brother was so in tune with his actions but it still ate at him that he couldn't just tell him. He couldn't just say… 'Look Dean… I'm having some terrible nightmares about that night and maybe we should talk about it! It bothers me so much that I wanted you to change how you were laying down so I wouldn't have a panic attack over something stupid.'

No… that wasn't about to come out of his mouth.

Sam looked back over at his brother who had already shut his eyes, still lying in the same position that made the younger brother squirm over. Flashes of his real life nightmare resurfaced in his vision and Sam sat up again. It had to change. It just had to. He had to try.


"Mmm…" Sam could tell from the low mumble that Dean was almost out like a light and hurried with his question, hoping in his big brother's sleepy state that he wouldn't see the hidden meaning.

"Have you tried to sleep on your side? Or your stomach? … I um… I'm worried your back will start to hurt too."

Dean lifted his heavy eyelids and gave Sam a slow sideways glance.

"I'm fine."

"Are… are you sure?" Sam's voice shuddered a bit and he knew his brothers' keen ears heard it.

"You ok Sammy? You're acting weird."

Sam stopped for a second, sitting up straighter and folded his fidgeting hand in his lap.

"I'm ok… Just worried about you." It wasn't the whole truth but part of it and it was all Sam could give at the moment. That's all he had.

Dean kept an eye on him for a brief moment before closing them again. Dean knew something was up. Sam could see it in the look he had just given him. His eyes said it all. Big brother understood the little brothers' plea. How Dean did that sort of thing Sam had no clue. He figured he'd never know. It was strictly an Older Brother trait.

And when Dean took a deep breathe and moved his legs a bit, crossing them at the knees and then putting his hands on the side of the mattress, Sam didn't move. He should have stood up and stopped his brother from moving. It would only cause him pain and Sam wasn't worth it. At least that's what he thought. He wasn't worth any more pain to Dean.

But Dean felt differently on the subject and Sam watched with wide eyes as his brother used his grip on the side of the bed to pull his back off of the mattress, leaving him laying awkwardly on his side.

"Dean…" Sam finally blurted out. He had to stop him. The pain etched in his brother's features was worse then the memories festering in him. But still he did not move. At this point he'd only be seeking to help him rather then push him back down to his back and help wasn't something Dean accepted often.

Dean didn't stop on his side and continued to move his legs and work with his arms until his stomach was almost flat on the mattress. One leg bent and an arm was tucked between his scarred chest and the old motel sheet, keeping his upper torso from being pressed harshly against the bed.

Sam continued to watch, concern and amazement fluttered on his features. It was an odd combination but he pulled it off.

There was his brother… his protector… harmed on the battlefield but still doing his part in the "Cause" that almost got him killed.

His little brother…

As mush as Sam would fight it, even without this crazy Demon stuff, Dean's sole mission in life was to take care of him in any way it was needed. And at that moment big Brother knew just what he needed.

Sam watched as slowly but surely Dean relaxed his tense and screaming muscles into the newly found sleeping position. It was only after his panting from the work he had just done dwindled did Sam attempt to speak.

"Does it hurt?"

Dean shut his eyes, avoiding Sam's gaze knowing full well that Sammy would see through his lie in a heartbeat if he saw the pain in them.

"No… Its surprisingly ok."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure… go to sleep Sammy."

Sam relaxed his body and let out a gust of air he didn't realize he had been holding. The terrible images in his head faded as he watched his brother now drifting back to sleep looking almost normal. It comforted him greatly and with the feeling that his brother wasn't in much pain he actually was going to do just that.

Laying his head down on his pillow, he situated himself so that he could still see Dean and prepared himself for more sleep. He needed it too… for Dean. And now that he felt sure that his brother was alive and, somewhat fine, he could now try to sleep again. This time the nightmares would stay away.

They wouldn't return because Dean was there… and he always would be. It was a fact that Sam would bet his life on.

And with a smile on his face and sleep reaching out to grab him, Sam exhaled out a "Thank you" towards his brother figuring he'd already be asleep and wouldn't hear it. Then he too followed suit, giving into the sandman and falling into slumber.

What he didn't know was that his big brother did hear him and a smile graced the older hunters lips at knowing even in the terrible physical shape he was in, he could still help his Sammy.

They were going to make it through this. They had each other.

And that saying "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger" would always apply to the Winchester Brothers.

Once evil finally realized that… the world would be a better place.

Well? Hopefully its not crappy!