Broken Chapter 1

Complete AU. The bond between the brothers was all too easily broken.

Set after the death of Azazale, and assumes Sam didn't die at the hands of Jake.

Sitting on Bobby's porch swing, feet up, muscles aching, Sam reflected on the last six months. Things had been pretty intense, he was exhausted, and he missed his brother like crazy. But Dean was gone, left in a storm of anger, and he wasn't coming back. No one had seen or heard from him in all that time, and though he'd desperately wanted to search for him, Sam really was in no position to.

It had been a stupid row, as always, that escalated to equally stupid heights.

Sam wanted to go back to Stanford, but this time he wanted Dean to go with him.

And why not? Ding dong the demon's dead, end of story.

But Dean hadn't seen it like that. He hadn't seen it like that at all.

He'd seen Sam's decision as a betrayal; to the hunt, to their dead parents, to Dean himself.

Sam felt it was time to get on with their lives. Build a future for themselves in the normal world. They now knew there were other hunters in the world to keep the darkness in check.

Harsh words had been exchanged; things that were much better left unsaid, and Dean had taken off.

Sam worried like hell. He had no idea where Dean was, and he lay awake most nights, desperately hoping his older brother would call to let Sam know he was ok. His own calls went unanswered, text messages sent out into the technological ether, never to be replied to.

Bobby had kept a discreet ear to the ground, but there wasn't much he could do. Sam, now alone in the world, had needed him.

Sam just knew Dean was still alive. He could feel it.

He sighed tiredly, trying to shift the still aching muscles. Picking up the once abandoned book, he tried again to get his head into the plot, but nothing was working.

He grew increasingly restless day after day and it was all he could do not to head on out and look for Dean, even knowing he wouldn't get far. Not with the way things were for him now.

Sam stared out across the yard, unseeingly, caught up in the past.

A low rumble distracted him, and a familiar black car swept by, pulling up at an angle.

Sam couldn't believe it, and gaped as someone climbed out the driver's seat.


Blinking back the sudden tears, Sam felt nervous as hell, wondering if his brother still hated him.

Dean swung round, slamming the car door as he went then froze when he saw Sam.

Eyes neutral, and moving slowly, he approached the house, stopping a few feet away.

This wasn't the Dean Winchester Sam remembered.

This Dean Winchester looked older, hollowed out, tired…cold.

Sam inwardly smirked. Right. And you look so much damn better!

But Dean had fresh scars along his neck and jaw line, whereas Sam's scars weren't quite so visible.

Dean jerked his chin towards the house. "Bobby around?"

Sam blinked in hurt surprise. "Uh…he's out back, fixing…something…or something…" His voice trailed off for a second before he plucked up the courage to ask softly. "Dean…where you been all this time?"

Dean just glared at him coldly. "Around. He in the workshop?" At Sam's nod he made to head out to the yard.

"Dean, wait…"

His brother stopped "What're you doin' here Sam? Shouldn't you be back at Stanford?"

Sam swallowed hard before replying. "Uh…didn't happen. Decided not to go in the end." That was a bare faced lie; he'd been given no choice, but he wasn't ready to tell Dean what happened.

For some reason that seemed to make Dean angry. His eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at Sam, judging, assessing.

"So you're living here? Thought you wanted nothing to do with hunters huh Sam?" He stepped closer with each word, right up until he was glaring down at his little brother. "Like you said, it's the end of the line, and hunting was never the life you wanted in the first place."

Sam stared up at him, feeling a flicker of fear at the cold anger in Dean's voice. He'd never been afraid of his brother before, ever. But he was now, as Dean searched his gaze…

It didn't stop Sam from doing a stupid little thing like showing that he still cared.

"I've been worried about you Dean."

Which, judging by the hot flash of anger in Dean's eyes, was totally the wrong thing to say.

Any moment now…


Dean was reeling a little in shock. The last thing he was expecting was to run into Sam at Bobby's place, and by the looks of things his brother had been there a while.

He felt anger and betrayal making a big come back as he moved in, getting a closer look at the dark shadows under Sam's eyes. Whereas Dean knew his own eyes bore little emotion these days, Sam's however seemed haunted, filled with pain.

Well that's just too bad Sammy. I don't have time for this…

"I've been worried about you Dean." The concern in Sam's voice nearly sent him over the edge.

"Oh right." Dean watched Sam flinch the sarcasm. "So when I was trapped in a burning building a few months back, a poltergeist 'bout ready to chew on my ass, it was you that got me out huh?"

"Dean, I…" Sam shook his head.

"What about the wendigo that wanted to chow down on me last week? Tell me Sam, was that you again? Aw shucks little bro, I'm flattered you care so damn much!"

"You shouldn't have hunted those things alone…" But Dean wouldn't let Sam finish that sentence.

"Screw you Sam! I don't wanna hear that false concern; it's all crap!" Dean grabbed a fistful of Sam's shirt, yanking him up from the porch swing.

He barely noticed Sam's legs buckle underneath him. "You never cared about Dad or me. You just wanted to go your own way and damn the consequences for everyone else!" He let go of his little brother, watching him with a smirk as Sam fell heavily to the wooden veranda.

As small noises of distress sounded from Sam, Dean just got angrier.

"Sam, get up! Your drama queen act won't wash," Dean just stood there watching as Sam breathed heavily, saying nothing. "Get up Sam! The least you could do is stand and face me!"

Dean started frowning when Sam whimpered in genuine pain and tried to drag himself back up on to the porch swing. Something was definitely wrong with Sam's legs. He quickly knelt down, grabbing Sam's arm. "Sam? What's wrong with you?" Dean's eyes widened when he caught the expression of agony on Sam's face. "Jesus…"

Footsteps pounded the veranda, a gruff voice announcing "What the hells all the yellin' about?" Bobby appeared, taking in the scene. "Oh my god, Sam!"

Shoving Dean out of the way, Bobby laid Sam back against his chest. "Dean, what the hell did you do to 'im!?"

"I…" Dean didn't know what to say.

"Sam, don't try to move, just stay still. Everythings gonna be ok. Dean? Call for an ambulance." When Dean just stood there shocked and unmoving, he barked out



Yeah, Dean's not to likable right now, but...will things get better?

That's up to you.

Ya gotta let me know...

Kind regards,