AN: This kind of just came to me. This is what they call a stream of consciousness. It is just what I think is going through Sam's head as he's watching and listening to his brother. I hope you guys enjoy.

Dean's grip on the steering wheel is tight, his knuckles are white, his eyes are steady and unwavering, I don't think he's blinked in the last five minutes. He woke me up this morning at 5, well he didn't wake me up, I was up, I was listening to him scream in his sleep. I can only yell to him, try to wake him up that way, I can't force myself to touch him and feel the shivering, and hear the pleading under his breath. He is like this because of me. Please Dean. Stop, be normal, give me some stupid snarky comment. Sleep in until noon, do something decidedly normal. I can't take this. It is all my fault, it is my fault he has memories of Hell. I know he does have the memories, no matter what he says. I know he's suffering still, despite not being in the pit, despite not being tortured physically, he is suffering and it is all because of me. And I can feel it happening again, I can feel the shut down happening, my emotions turning off, it's just like when he was in the pit, after Ruby made me want to live again, it's just emotional shut down, I just can't deal with it. Please Dean, stop. Be my brother again.

I asked for him to tell me the truth, he's telling me the truth and I don't want to hear it I thought I did, but I don't. "There aren't words." Oh God it must be worse than I thought, of course, hell is well hell, didn't Meg say it was nothing but, bone, flesh, blood, and fear? I just assumed that was what it was, but the look in his eye says that it was more than that. There was a lot more than that. I hear myself say something like "hey can you tell me about it?" Right, like he wants to relive that experience, wants to tell me everything that happened down there. And as soon as the words are out of my mouth I hope that he says that he doesn't want to tell me. How selfish am I? I'm not entirely sure I want to know. I don't want to know how much he has had to suffer because I was too stupid to realize the guy was coming behind me with a knife. I am such a moron! Such a fucking impotent half man, what kind of person am I? I am the reason he went and suffered and I can't stand to hear what happened down there? What kind of brother, person, whatever am I, that…my God. I'm getting cold and selfish. Please Dean stop. Please come back to me and fix me.

He's talking. He's revealing what happened in the pit and I can't concentrate, I can't breathe. I can't hear. I catch snippets….30 years of pain…10 years of being the torturer. Oh God. He tortured people. That's not my brother. My brother would never do that to anyone. Dean has dedicated his entire life to saving people, he could never torture someone. Oh God. I don't know what to say, I'm so scared I'm numb. What in the hell do I do? He's crying and I can't even bring myself to touch him. Dean it wasn't you, it wasn't you. What do I say? What do I do? I don't know….I just don't know. Dean stop. I can't do this. I'm not strong enough, I'm not smart enough, I don't know how to help you. Please Dean stop. Please…please get better, please tell me that this was just a big joke and that you are okay, that these tears are fake, that you have an onion in your shirt, anything, please stop, I can't handle this, I don't know what to do. This is all my fault. You hate yourself because of me, I am responsible for you going to hell, I'm responsible for your pain, your suffering, and your self loathing. My God. Please Dean stop. Please.

Stopping for food, getting food, going some place else to eat it. Typical. He's lost in thought again. He looks like he's mad, what could he possibly be mad at? Well except for that one guy being killed, but that wasn't his fault, how were we supposed to know there were two of them? He turns the food down. What is wrong with him? When was the last time he ate? It's been a while since he's eaten enough to make a difference, he's lost a lot of fat, but my goodness with all of the jobs we've been on he's been building a lot of muscle, he should have been able to take that thing out without having to shoot it. He's talking again, he's telling me more about hell. I really can't handle him talking about it. I thought that I could but I really can't. It makes me feel guilty and so useless…there isn't anything I can say or do to make him feel better, so why does he keep telling me about it? He was right at first, I don't know and I don't' understand and there aren't words…there is no amount of caring and sharing….he enjoyed torturing others? What. The. Hell? No way that this is the right man. Not my brother Dean. He looks guilty, he sounds contrite, he sounds tortured, he looks tortured, but he enjoyed hurting others? What? Oh God. I can't do this. Dean. Please stop. Stop.