I wrote this a few months ago before the Crossroad Demon died, so I had to change one part a little. Ok, I admit this fic really doesn't have much of a point other than to make up for the brotherly love that we lacked in all episodes before Fresh Blood. It's basically for EMO and Broness lovers, so that being said...Hope ya'll like it.


"Come on in, I've gotta tell you what a state I'm in. I've gotta tell you in the loudest tones, that I started looking for a warning sign."


His name drifted on a familiar voice and into his dreams. He felt his shoulder being shaken rapidly.

"Dean, wake up."

Dean groaned and batted away his brother's jostling hands.

"Dude, seriously." Sam urged again.

Dean let out a sigh and kept his eyes shut.

"Sam, unless you've some how changed into a french maid with a desperate urge to clean something, then there's no way I'm waking up."

Dean smiled at the sound of Sam's impacient exhale; he could almost see his brother rolling his eyes.

"Dean, it's about your deal."

Dean was surprised to hear so little sorrow in Sam's voice. Instead he heard, strangely enough, hope. Dean opened his eyes to the darkness of his pillow.

"What about it, Sam?"

He heard Sam's feet shuffle as he restlessly shifted his weight.

"Dean I...I think I found a way to get you out of it."

Dean raised his head and turned his face towards Sam. His little brother's face was ablaze with hope and excitement and his hands shook visibly as they perched on his hips.

"I think this is it. I think it'll really get you out."

Dean turned to sit on the side of the bed as he watched Sam move quickly across the room and snatch up some papers off the table.

"I found this a couple days ago at the library and I went from there."

Sam shoved a few of the papers into Dean's hands and waited for a moment, pacing slightly as Dean looked over them. Dean's features softened as he read the well-known facts about deals with demons and the ones that not many people knew. He went on to the next page to find an extremely complex-and dangerous, it looked like-ritual.

"How the hell did you find this?" Dean asked, eyes still scanning over the papers. Sam grinned and puffed out a breath.

"See? It could work. Now it'll be difficult and I have no idea where to find some of the stuff, but i found a little more on a website..."

Sam handed Dean the rest of the papers, his own handwriting scribbled all over the pages. He indicated a circled portion on the paper.

"See here we could-" Sam stopped suddenly, a low grunt coming deep from his throat. Dean looked up over the papers. Sam's happy expression had faded a bit and his nose scrunched in confusion.

"You ok?" Dean asked, lowering the articles a little more. Sam rolled his shoulders a few times and nodded slowly.


Dean's eyes moved carefully over Sam; a spark of panic momentarily spurring his mind.

"You what?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothin'...Anyway, for the final part of the ritual we-AGH!"

Sam jolted forward and crumpled to his knees.


Papers floated lightly to the floor and Dean was in front of Sam, supporting him, before the pages could come to rest on the carpet.

"H-h-hey, what is it? What's wrong with you?" Dean ducked his head to look into Sam's down-turned face. Sam's eyes had lost their spark and they stared lazily back at him. Dean's heart raced and his wide eyes searched Sam's face. Sam let out a pained breath and slumped forward against his brother. Dean hooked his arm around Sam's back to support him and shifted him in his grasp.

"Sam, wha-?" Dean's hand slipped over something on the back of Sam's shirt. He froze as he felt warmth running over his palm. Slowly, he brought his hand back up to look at it; dark red wetted the skin there. Dean craned his neck over Sam's shoulder to see a rapidly growing sphere of blood at the lower part of Sam's back.

A look of terrified puzzlement was replaced by even more terrified understanding. "You try to welch or weasel your way out of this and the deal is off, Sam drops dead he's back to rotten meat in no time." Whoever held the right to Dean's crossroad deal knew that the ritual Sam found would work...and they were fulfilling their part of the bargain. Sam had broken the pact and he was dying because of it; dying from the same thing that killed him so many months ago.

Dean was still staring at the blood pooling over Sam's shirt when words rumbled in Sam's throat from where it rested on Dean's shoulder.


Dean pulled back and took Sam's face in his hands.

"Mmwhat's going o-..on?" Sam's voice was quiet, too quiet, and it shook like a frightened child's. Dean's chin trembled.

"It's ok, Sam. It's gonna be ok." His voice was strained, and it took everything in him to keep it from wavering and not sounding comforting to his little brother.

Sam's eyes tried to roll back, but he focused them stubbornly on Dean.

"Just hold on...please." Dean's voice cracked, his throat tightening uncomfortably.

Sam's cheek lolled against Dean's palm. More and more Dean could see that he was losing his brother; for the second time in less than a year. Dean's features twitched angrily as tears crept from his eyes.

"You can't do this." He whispered to thin air. "You can't do this." His voice raised to a yell. "We had a deal! You hear me? You cannot do this!"

Dean's broken screams battled against the confines of the walls and faded quickly, leaving silence yet again to consume.

"Sam? Sam..." His voice dropped back to a desperate plea as he looked back at Sam's rapidly fading form.

"Don't go, please...d-...don't"

A sob caught in his throat. "Not again."

Dean rested his forehead against his brother's, feeling the warmth of Sam's skin already sneaking away. His attention fell on the short exhales brushing against his tear-wetted cheek. Dean remained perfectly still, as if moving even a little might take Sam away from him that much faster. A constant mantra of "Please please please" played in Dean's head as he held his eyes shut tight. His chest began to heave with silent, sorrowful sobs as a brush of air against his skin was not followed by another. Dean hugged Sam to himself and rested his face against the top of Sam's hair.

It had happened...he'd lost Sam again. Whispered words of comfort and sorrow went altogether unnoticed to the person they were directed towards. Tears began to fall freely as Dean hit rock bottom yet again. There was a cold brush of air against Dean's ear.

"She was right..."

The metallic and inhuman voice seemed to come from inside Dean's own mind.

"...You are fun to play with."

There was a pause, leaving Dean the time to feel the anger boil up inside himself.

"You know you're lucky I'm so excited and anxious to keep this deal. Your soul is like the George Clooney of the demon world; everyone wants to get their hands on it, but none have truly succeeded."

Dean found he couldn't speak. He wasn't sure if it was because of rage or maybe of the demon's own doing, but either way he was struck mute. There was a long raspy inhale followed by a bored sounding sigh.

"This is a warning. Next time I won't be so kind. You better keep Sammy there on a leash, because if he tries something like this again? He dies, and you still get the VIP room in hell. End of story. Adiablos."

As suddenly as the voice had come, it had gone. A loud ring echoed through Dean's ears and a violent inhale tore from the body clutched tightly in his arms. Sam's chest heaved with life as a coughing fit overtook him. Dean pushed him back and sat him up against the hotel dresser. One hand held Sam by the shoulder, supporting him and quietly comforting, and the other covered Dean's face as he struggled to fight back the rush of relief, fear, anger and sadness that attempted to bubble over. Dean rubbed the hand over his face and looked back at Sam as his coughing ceased and air again flowed easily to his lungs.

Sam looked back at him, eyes shiny and expressive. Both brothers stared at each other, both thinking a million things, but verbalizing none of it. Dean's hand gripped tightly on Sam shoulder and he pulled him forward and lifted up the bottom of his shirt. Dean swiped his hand over the splash of blood to reveal the wound from which it came. There was no sign that the wound had been reopened. The slightly pink scar looked as it should; like it had been healed for awhile now. Dean let the shirt fall back into place and guided Sam's shoulder back to where he leaned against the piece of furniture.

Sam had not taken his eyes off his brother the whole time. His face pulled with a frown and the sea green of his eyes teared with unspeakable helplessness. Dean's expression mirrored Sam's as he looked back at him. He gave Sam's shoulder a squeeze and crawled over to lean against the bed opposite of him. Dean propped his elbows on his parted knees and let his hands and head droop loosely. Sam sniffed and wiped at the drops on his face.

"Dean, that ritual works-"

"Shut up." Dean's voice was sharp as he looked at Sam from under his eyebrows.

"Don't talk about it, don't think about it, don't bring it up again." Dean's tone left no room for argument.

"And stop looking."

"Dean, I can't-"

Dean's voice raised. "Yes you can and you will."

Sam's chest twitched with a repressed sob and he hung his head.

"I'm not watching you di-" Dean stopped and bit at his bottom lip in attempts to stop its quivering.

"I'm not watching you die again, Sammy. I won't...next time I'm just gonna follow."

Sam's head shot up. "Dean, don't you dare-"

"Then stop looking." Dean said flatly. His face softened after a moment of Sam's rebellious silence. "...Please?"

Sam lifted his eyes at the one word. Dean's green gaze pleaded desperately with him; he didn't like seeing his big brother-his unbreakable, made-of-steel brother-so broken like this. Sam felt the piercing gaze even after he dropped his own and tried to focus on something else.

"Sam." The name broke in a pleading manner as it passed Dean's lips.

Sam set his jaw and kept his gaze away from Dean. "Ok." He said at last.

Dean closed his eyes; satisfied with Sam's reply. He dropped his head again, staring a snag in the motel rug. There was a long pause between the two Winchesters. Each lost in their own world of thoughts. Both thinking over the burdens each carried; for themselves, and for each other.

"I love you for trying, man. I really do."

Dean's words cuts right through Sam's stupor; one noun in particular catching his attention. He looked over at Dean, meeting the steady gaze.

"I want you to know that." Dean smiled softly as he spoke.

Sam did know that. He also knew that the extra six words were unnecessary next to the three that he knew Dean wanted to say. Sam sniffed and nodded knowingly.

"Yeah...me too."

Dean's smile widened a bit and he nodded. Dimples peeked through Sam's quiet tears as the two brothers shared a moment of complete and total understanding. There was no shortage to the words that the boys had exchanged throughout their lives, but the three that had hardly, if ever, been said aloud were the three that didn't always need to be.


"So I crawl back into your open arms."



Like I said...ultimately pointless. But they said the "L" word, hopefully that turned out alright hehe. Let me know what ya'll think. And I know some of ya'll are wondering "How the fuck does that song even apply to this?" Well...perhaps it doesn't, but I love that song to death:D

Reviews keep me writing. They're like...I don't know...but they're good.