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"No," he thought to himself lowering the iron rod and tossing it on the ground. "That son of bitch won't win. He won't get me. I'm not gonna kill for him."
He turned at the sound of his brother's voice sending a silent prayer of thanks as he walked painfully in the direction of the call. Relief surged through him as he saw Dean and Bobby approaching guns in hand.
"Sam," his brother said the relief obvious in his voice.
"Dean," he replied struggling towards his brother unaware of the danger behind him until Dean shouted again.
"Sam look out!"
He didn't even have time to react before he felt the knife slide painfully into his back
He heard Dean yell, "Noooo!" Saw him running towards him a look of sheer terror on his face.
The knife twisted painfully and was yanked out again as time slowed to a crawl and everything suddenly came into sharp focus. He heard a grunt of pain and realized it was his own.
He knew. It was a killing blow. His knees collapsed. His head tilted back in a silent scream of agony.
Suddenly Dean was there. His fists clasped in Sam's Jacket. "Sam," he said.
He wanted to reply, wanted to tell his brother all the things he should have already told him but nothing seemed to be working. His head tilted back and for a heartbeat he saw a few stars shining through the cloudy sky. They were pretty and he wished he had more time to study them but he knew he didn't.
"Sam," Dean said again pulling him in close helping him stay upright. "Sam, Sam, hey," repeated.
Sam wished Dean would call him Sammy, just this once. He wanted to hear it again one more time. It had always annoyed him, yet at the same time it was comforting. His brother could put so much into that one word. It was always filled with emotion when he used it and right now. Sam wanted to hear it, needed to hear it one last time.
"Hey, come here, come on." Dean said as he pulled into a hug, "Let me look at ya."
Sam leaned heavily on Dean unable and unwilling to move. Dean was holding him tightly to him, hugging him which was a very rare event. He knew he was safe, held tight in his brother's arms. Nothing else would hurt him Dean would make sure.
He closed his eyes as his head was buried against Dean's neck. He remembered the last time his head had rested on his brother's shoulder. It was back in Lawrence when the poltergeist had strangled him with a lamp cord.
He took a breath inhaling Dean's scent and was filled with a calm tranquility. It was like… coming home.
"Hey look," Dean said pushing him back making him want to sigh leaving him feeling strangely bereft. "It's not even that bad."
In his mind he smiled and wanted to laugh. "Not this time," he thought and was gripped suddenly with an overwhelming sadness. Dean would be alone. He hated being alone. "I'm sorry," he thought trying to hold his head up, trying to make Dean understand how much he loved him.
"It's not even that bad alright." Sam knew it was, he knew his brother was trying to convince himself as much as him. He tried to speak but all that came out was a low moan. He wanted to tell Dean how much he meant to him, how much he loved him. Most of all Dean needed to know it wasn't his fault. There was nothing he could have done, not this time.
He tried again to meet Dean's eyes and this time, with his brother's help, their eyes met. Sam tried to speak again but his mouth was filling with a warm, thick, coppery tasting liquid that he knew was blood. Then Dean said it, what he'd been waiting for. "Sammy!" he shouted, begging for Sam to respond. "Sam!"
Sam's eyes rolled in an automatic response to the nickname. A response so ingrained into him it was done without thought. But, there it was, the term of endearment he'd been waiting for the one that said it all, it told him how much Dean loved him, how much he cared. It told him he was safe.
"Listen to me, listen to me," Dean demanded shaking him slightly causing him to loose focus on his brother's face. "We're going to patch you up, okay" Dean said.
Sam wanted to believe him, he did. But darkness was closing in fast his eyes closed again. His hearing sharpened and he sagged closer into his brother's strong arms.
"You're going to be good as new, huh," Dean's hand found its way to the side of Sam's face and he leaned in soaking up the warmth of it as he listened. "I'm going to take care of you. I'm going to take care of you. I got you. That's my job right. Watch after my pain in the ass little brother."
Sam wanted to smile. He wanted to really hug his brother. He wanted everything to be fine. He wanted Dean to smile again too. He could hear the panic in his brother's voice. He could hear how much Dean needed him to stay.
He tried. He wanted to. He just couldn't.
"Sam, Sam, Sam!" Dean shouted and if it weren't for the hands on each side of his face he'd have though his brother a long way off.
"Sammy!" he heard his brother shout faintly before his hearing dimmed and all he could do was feel.
He felt Dean pull him close again. He felt his brother's strong arms gripping him tight. He felt the deep love his brother had for him seeping in through those strong arms, through the cheek resting against his. His felt loved.
And then he felt nothing.
A/N - Well... did it make you sad? Please review and let me know how I did.