Sam was becoming dizzy as the threat of unconsciousness loomed upon him. Once he faded out, it would be all over for them both. Dean would never forgive himself-NEVER. He tried to struggle, but that only yielded more fervor in his brother's punches. The pummel of his brother's enraged fist flew at him with ferocity and anger. Losing the ability to control his wrestle and fight back, Sam took the last effort he could to reach out to Dean. His voice grew weaker, but he had to reach out somehow. "Dean." There was no sound that could reach through Sandman induced hallucination. "Dean." Sam became more flaccid and his struggling began to wane. Sam's body had begun to surrender to the punishment.
Dean's energy spent, he waited for the bastard to move. The body below him merely rolled in a stupor like agony. He loosened his grip and loosening his hold upon his tormentor, the miscreant's arm flopped upon Dean's hand. Dean was about to repel from the creature that plagued him, when the floundering hand grasped and squeezed gently. Dean was taken aback and was ready to strike, when the beast uttered "Dean, please."
Shock of the hubristic being reacting to such gentleness sent foreboding down upon Dean's spine. The squeezing hand's flinched fingers tapped a meek rhythm to the top of Dean's hands. Dean's eyes closed his eyes, knowing the image before him was a projection and the reality was far worse. He didn't want to open them, afraid of what the truth would find. His face already showed the signs of penitence before he forced his eyes to open. The ensanguine image of Sam replaced the illusion.
Sam's face was bloody, but he had yet to lose consciousness. "Dean" Sam voice cracked and his mouth scrunched in agony. Sam's breath gasped and his mouth gapped. The gasps became a wheezing. A tremble now twinged in his voice. "No…. No, Dean…please." A tear surged down Sam's face.
"Sammy...uhhh" Dean gulped as he was unable to form words. Dean's lip shuttered as he gasped in a harsh breath of air. "Sammy..oh……oh…huh…..huh.. oh..God..."
Sam squeezed Dean's hand again: in recognition that he was hurt, but aware of Dean's presence.
"Sam... I'm sorry... I wanted to..." The words became thick in his throat. "I could have killed you… I almost killed…"
Dean rocked Sam up into his arms, half shaking and half crying. "Please, be okay, Sammy." A groan was the response Dean received. Sam flopped dizzily upon Dean's shoulder. "Don't worry, Sammy boy, I got ya...I'm gonna take care of you… I'm sorry….." Dean rolled Sam back to look upon his face. Shaking Sam lightly, he whispered "You're going to be okay, Sammy. I know what to do…I'm sorry I have to do this sooner than I hoped."
Knowing his initial instinct had been right, Dean confirmed is fear that he was dangerous. His lack of control was an ever increasing omen of destruction to anything he dared to love in this world. He quickly assessed Sam's injuries as he had been taught many times by this father. Sam looked horrid, but physically he would recover with a few days rest. Sam groaned slightly. With a jiggle of his head, Sam blacked out. Dean checked Sam's pulse again out of paranoia. Sam's pulse was steady, by Dean's was racing with disgust and fear. Sam would heal, but if he got in the way of Dean's next vision there would be no way for Sam to protect himself.
Scooping Sam uneasily off the floor, Dean half staggered Sammy to a bed. With extreme caution and care, Dean scooted Sam upon the mattress. Resting Sam's head on the fluffy pillow, Dean quickly swaggered his way to the bathroom. He retrieved towels, bandages, and a cold pack from their emergency first aid kit.
Returning, he looked down at the damage he had wrought. Sam could be dead right now. If he had continued five more minutes, he could have beaten his brother to death. With that thought, the sound of the Sandman's laughter filled the fearful void.
Dean pushed the laughter to the back of his mind. "No, you son of a bitch! You want me! Fine! But you can't have him…GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" The push was the strongest one Dean could muster, but it was enough. His mind quieted.
Taking the brief moment of quiet, Dean began to patch up the lacerations on his brother's face. Noticing that his blood stained hands were just as they were during the vision of his mother, Dean gulped. His silver ring smattered by staint- his brother's life blood. Another fit of laughter filled his head. "NO!!! No… I won't let you stop me… SHUT THE HELL…" His hands grasped his head as if the squeeze alone could prevent him from spiraling back to his living nightmare world. After several painstaking moments, his mind quieted again. The effort to prevent another episode was wearing his resolve down. Only the thought of an injured Sam keep him from sinking.
Cleaning Sam's wounds with Marine expertise, Dean started making Sammy promises. "I promise I'll never hurt you again Sam. If I had been stronger, you would be safe now. I promised to protect you, even if the danger is me. I…" Dean chocked on his words, but found the energy to place a cool ice packet upon Sam's face. A momentary smile appeared on Dean's face as he watched Sam's take in a comforted breath. Dean took solace in that moment. He scruffed Sam's hair once, before he retrieving the folded paper from his jeans that encased the Impala's keys. He loving placed it in Sam's open hand.
He desperately want to stay with Sam, but his fear of harming Sam or killing Sam was too much to bear. The Sandman had been right; Dean hadn't fooled him at all. The Sandman knew the easiest way to hurt Dean was through Sam. Even now, he could feel the Sandman's pull again, but he managed to push it back in the deepest part of his mind. "No… no more…" This begging of a broken desperate man replaced the order he had demanded earlier in his hallucination.
With concentrated effort, Dean turned, walked towards the door, and opened it without looking back. He sauntered out the door quickly, only stopping one last time to touch the Impala.
"Be good to Sammy, girl." Tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he ran his forefinger over the slit between the door and car top. The Impala was the only thing he had to give Sam, the only legacy he could leave him. The car was such a part of Dean; it was a way he would always be with Sammy. "Sammy" he mouthed as his finger grazed the car's hood. Tears of loneliness, fear, and pain fell from his eyes. He allowed himself to linger for one moment more before he stumbled down the highway.
This is the end of this story, but the second part is already started and on the way. This story was about the what could separate the Winchesters. The saga continues in the next story Enter the Sandman,which has already started and is on here .