"Clarissa?!" The man gasped as he looked up at the woman he had divorced just a few months ago. A stabbing pain shot through his chest again, causing him to scream and clench his teeth. He clawed at his chest, as if to remove the knife that he could have sworn was being buried into it, but his hands caught on nothing; he was merely scratching at his bare skin. The woman standing over the writhing man twisted a long pin into the chest of a pale, featureless doll clutched in her hand.

The man screamed out in pain again. "Clarissa, please!"

The woman twisted the pin again and violently pulled it out of the doll. The man gasped and rolled onto his side, breathing heavily from the intense pain that had pulsed through his body a few moments earlier. He grasped at his chest, it still had a dull ache in it, and squeezed his eyes closed. He opened them again to look upon his much younger, newly married wife's lifeless eyes staring back at him. He recalled that she had died just a few minutes earlier, writhing in pain and wimpering on the ground as she grasped her head desperately in her shaking hands, trying to shield it from the invisiable force that was piercing through it. Two legs walked in front of the man's vision and the woman bent down, her eyes flashing with a blank, bitter hatred and her jaw set in a disturbing smirk. The man cringed as his ex-wife grabbed his face forcefully with her hand.

"You see what happens when you cheat on your wife of 23 years, darling?" The man shook his head as tears streamed down his face.

"I'm sorry." He choked out. The woman squeezed her hand tighter around her ex-husbands face, the corners of her mouth twitching and turning up at the corners bitterly.

"I'll bet you wish that that actually meant something to me." She shoved the man's face back out of her grasp, his head thumped back on the hardwood. The woman stood up and jammed the needle back into the ragged doll she still gripped in her hand. The man on the floor began kicking and crying out in pain again. His pleas merely bounced off the eardrums of the woman standing above him as she twisted the pin maliciously into the doll's chest. After a few minutes, the man finally fell silent, his body completely still. The woman smiled down at the lifeless man, his eyes still staring wide at her.

"Happy anniversary, you bastard." She spat between clenched teeth. And she turned and walked away, leaving the two bodies on the floor for someone else to deal with.

Sam rubbed his tired eyes and squinted back at the computer screen, typing in another search trying to find any possible material for he and his brother's next hunt. It was aslmot 7 in the morning, so naturally Dean was fast asleep. He was sprawled out on his bed, blankets and sheets were thrown half off him and the side of his face was buried in his pillow. It had been nearly 3 weeks since the gates of hell had been opened and hundreds of demons had been released to the unsuspecting world. Sam had searched and searched but could find no sign of the demons anywhere. He had even called Bobby who only confirmed that no sightings, possessions or signs had cropped up yet. Sam looked over the top of the computer at his brother as he mumbled in his sleep and shifted a little on the mattress. Sam let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't help but notice that Dean seemed to have lost a bit of his natural vitality; Sam had a good idea as to why that was. With all that had gone down a few weeks earlier, he really didn't blame Dean for being a little off. Sam reached behind him and gently ran his fingers over the scar that ran over nearly a foot of his back. It was rough and still ached a little, not having time to fully heal yet. Sam shook his head sadly, his jaw clenched as the feeling of oncoming tears tingled in his nose. He would have done anything to have stopped Dean from doing what he did, but at the time there was nothing he could have done. Sam wouldn't allow himself to be mad at his brother for selling his own soul to bring him back from the dead. Dean had a little over 11 months to live and Sam sure as hell wasn't gonna spend that precious time being mad at his brother for doing what he considered "His job". "That's what he has always called it..." Thought Sam, smiling sadly to himself. "...His job." That's my job right? Watch after my pain in the ass little brother. Those words had some how reached Sam through the darkness. He remembered little from the night that life had left his body, but Sam did remember the comforting feeling of Dean holding him, supporting him, and he remembered those words he had spoken to him. Before every last one of his senses had failed him, Sam had heard Dean. Something in Sam's mind stirred as he recalled those words. He smiled weakly to himself as his eyes focused on something beyond the glow of the computer screen and his mind wandered to times of the past.

November 1993

"Damnit Sam! I told you to stay right where you were!" Dean pulled Sam into the small hotel room. Other than Dean's coat drawn about his shoulders, Sam was dripping wet and shivering uncontroably against the bitter November weather of North Dakota.

"I was gone for like 3 minutes!"

Sam and Dean had been right outside the hotel room. Sam had seen a cat out the window and immediately ran out to play with it. Dean stood, hands stuck in his coat-pockets, waiting for Sam to have his fill of petting and cuddling the furry creature when he heard the phone ring in their hotel room. Dean waited; a second ring did not follow. A minute later, the phone rang again. This time Dean immediately went to answer it, knowing who it would be.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." He said as he walked into the room.

Sam merely nodded and giggled as the cat swished its tail over his nose. A door down the way slammed and scared the feline, causing it to jump from Sam's arms and run away. Sam jumped up and chased the animal across the parking lot. The cat was just a few steps ahead of Sam as it ran into the pool area. Sam continued on, completely focused on capturing the cat again. As Sam ran along the pool his feet caugh a patch of ice, causing him to slide and fall head first onto the plastic material that covered the hotel pool in the winter months. Sam lay for a moment, surprised by his fall, the water underneath the pool-cover bobbing him up and down slightly. He recovered after a moment and began to stand up. Right as Sam managed to straighten up and take one step, the material on the side of the pool closest to him snapped away from the wall, sending Sam straight down into the ice cold water. "Whoa-" was all Sam could get out before he became submerged. The coldness of the water knocked the breath out of Sam and he fought frantically to breach the surface. He came up with a gasp and started to swim to the side, his whole body shaking as he did so. Sam finally reached the edge and began to pull himself out of the water. Something snagged on his leg and Sam's arms, stiff and weak from the cold, gave way beneath him due to the extra weight and he again fell back below the icy surface. Sam gasped and coughed to the surface again. He looked down to see what had disabled him from leaving the pool and saw that the pool-cover was wrapped and twisted tightly around his leg. Sam pulled at is desperately, becoming more panicked by the second as he began to go numb from the cold.

"Dea-an!" He cried out, choking on a bit of water.

The stifled call was enough; Dean had gotten off the phone and was desperately searching for Sam in the parking lot. Dean ran towards his brother's call and round him, neck deep, in the pool.

"Sam!" He rushed to the side of the pool and fell to his knees, reaching out to Sam. "Give me your hand!"

Sam put out his shaky hand and caught his brother's. Dean's fingers wrapped around his little brother's ice cold grip. Even at the young age of 14, Dean was strong as most men, and he easily pulled Sam up and onto the side of the pool.

"It's g-got m-me." Sam's teeth chattered as he indicated the pool-cover wrapped around his leg. Dean put one arm around Sam's chest and reached out his other hand to untwist the plastic that was holding his little brother back from freedom. Dean untangled the plastic finally and threw it aside agriliy, as if this whole incident was its fault. Dean stood up, pulling Sam to his feet with him and turning him to face himself.

"What were you thinking, huh?!" He ripped his own jacket off his shoulders and pulled it tightly around Sam. The jacket drowned Sam, making him look all that smaller.

"I'm s-sorry." Sam said, his puppy dog eyes staring up at his big brother. Dean shook his head and put his arm tightly around Sam's shoulders, leading him quickly back to the hotel room. Sam's legs gave out from under him a little as they came upon their room.

"Whoa, I gotcha." Dean voice had lost all its harshness that it had had before as he caught Sam and helped him back to his feet. Dean opened the door and lead Sam inside.

"Damnit Sam! I told you to stay right where you were!" Dean's voice was stern again, just like that, as he let Sam stand shakily on his own while he turned and locked all the bolts on the door.

"I was gone for like 3 minutes!" Dean locked the dead-bolt and turned back to Sam. He took his shoulders and sat him down on the bed, begining to remove his soaking wet shoes.

"D-dean, I'm s-sorry." Warm tears streamed down Sam's cold face; he could tell Dean was truly upset. Dean yanked off Sam's shoes and moved to pulling his shirt over his head, ignoring Sam's apology. Sam hung his head as Dean removed the rest of his soaked clothes. Dean hurried over to his own bag and pulled out one of his shirts.

"Put your arms up." He said quietly as he put the shirt over Sam's dark, wet hair. The shirt went down to nearly Sam's knees, but it was dry and it worked out fine. Dean snatched the blanket off the unmade bed opposite to the one Sam was sitting on. He kneeled in front of Sam, wrapping the blanket tightly around his little brother's shaking shoulders. Dean looked up into Sam's face, rubbing his shoulders to increase circulation. Tears were still running down his small face.

"Aw, come on, Sammy." Dean put his arms around Sam and pulled him, blankets and all, on the floor next to himself. He pulled Sam close to himself, trying to stop him from shivering, trying to keep him warm...safe. Sam's head rested on his brother's shoulder.

"Dean, I'm s-sorr-."

"It's alright, Sammy. I gotcha." Dean's voice was low and soft. Both brothers sat, looking straight ahead of them at the weak light filtering through the curtains.

"But, you're really mad." Sam felt Dean shake his head.

"I'm not mad at you, Sammy."

Sam looked up at him. "Yes you are, I can tell. You're mad."

Dean squeezed his shoulder a little; Sam's shivering has lessened some-what. "I'm not mad, it's just..." Dean stopped and sighed.

"Just what?" Sam's soft, blue/green eyes looked up at him.

Dean smiled; he was amazed how Sam's small, curious voice always had the power to make all his built up walls crumble down into dust.

"I was scared..." Dean continued after a few moments of silence. "...When I came back oustide, you weren't there. I let you out of my sight, I screwed up."

Sam's brow furrowed and he let his head fall back against Dean's shoulder, his eye still fixed up at him. "What do ya mean?"

Dean chuckled a little, he never was one for chick-flick moments...oh what the hell.

"Uh..." He cleared his throat. "...Well, the night M-mom died, Dad handed you to me. And I made a promise, to you and myself, that I'd always protect you..." Dean glanced down at Sam then focused his eyes straight ahead again. "...Whatever the cost, I'd protect you and look out for you." Sam blinked up at Dean, looking at him like he was God himself.

"Oh..." He said quietly, looking ahead of him again.

Dean sighed and nodded. "Yeah. So that's my job; watch after my pain in the ass little brother."

Sam giggled after a moment. "You said...ass." He whispered the last word.

Dean laughed and gave Sam's shoulders another squeeze. "Yeah, get used to it."

Sam became aware of fingers waving in front of his face.

"Sam?" He heard Dean's voice. Sam jumped back a little in his chair. Dean stood in front of him, his sleep-tossled hair standing at particularly humorous angles and his face drawn into a look of confusion and mild worry.

"You ok, man?" asked Dean, looking Sam over, a little concerned.

Sam shrugged. "Yeah, fine. Why?"

"Uh..." Dean motioned to his face.

Sam looked at his brother, a bit puzzled, then became aware of the wetness and slightly stiff feeling on his cheeks. His hands flew to his face, wiping away the tears.

"Oh, yeah it's just...the computer. I've been up awhile, must've strained my eyes." Sam rubbed his eyes for emphasis.

Dean nodded slowly. "Oh...well, ya find anything?"

Sam exed out of a failed search titled "Crossroad+Demon+Deal Breakers." "No, nothing." Sam was sure his voice probably sounded more disappointed than neccessary at not being able to find a hunt.

Dean let out a breath. "Alright, why don't you go get us some much needed coffee and I'll do some digging for awhile."

Sam knew Dean was desperate for a hunt, he needed the distraction. Hell, they both needed it. He nodded. "Okay." And got up out of the chair.

Dean dropped down in his place and centered the computer more in front of him, typing in a search for the local newspaper website. Sam opened the door, looking at his brother again as he stared intently at the computer screen. Dean hadn't changed a bit since the age of 14. Really, he hadn't changed a bit since Sam could remember. Realizing he was lingering in the open doorway, Sam sighed and walked out to the Impala.


Ok, so sorry if that seemed rushed (and for any errors I might have made) I just REALLY wanted to get the first part on here tonight. Please tell me what you honestly thing, constructive criticism is fine by me. Thanks for reading, there is more to come!!!