He licked hungrily at his parched lips. He knew full well that it wouldn't help any, but he proceeded to do it anyway. He lifted the bottle forlornly to his lips, letting the amber liquid slid down his throat, the kick reduced to a minor annoyance by his devote worship of the mind-numbing substance that lay within…

He sought escape in each swallow…a surcease of the pain and sorrow ever haunting his days and most especially his nights…

He had made a promise…a promise that he had broken. Tear drops welled on the surface of his red-rimmed eyes. They clung tenaciously to the cages of his lashes as he sought to drown them down with another deep tilt of the nearly empty bottle he clutched in his long-fingered hand…

The tears over-ruled his control and tumbled over the shackling confines of his lashes; their wandering path falling over the sharp crest of his hollow cheek bones. They slid slowly down his tense jaw, marking the skin on their way down his neck to pool in the fabric of his shirt below…

Sam closed his eyes as memories of his brother's broken form seared through his mind….the skin and muscle torn irrepairly…the metallic stench of blood pouring off the pooling black lake of the life-giving substance as it drained away from his brother's body…Dean's widely staring green eyes dim, no life left…no light…he was gone…gone to Hell…and Sam knew it was all his fault…Sam never let himself forget that it was all his fault…

Sam shuddered, weeping bitterly as he drug the last of the liquid fire from its gleaming home inside the bottle and tossed it to joined the other's in a broken heap in the cold, dark depths of the fireplace…he broke into a new bottle…determined to drink himself into a stupor or into Death's arms…which ever came first…personally, he had already decided he no longer cared either way…