If You Seek Sammy

Dean didn't know when it happened, but it had. Sam had changed, not into a demon but into a dark and dangerous person, into a shadow of a demon. He'd lost Sammy, he was just Sam know, Sammy was sweet innocent, caring and kind, now he was Sam and he was cold and Sammy, Dean's really little brother was no longer visible. He was hidden, locked away somewhere deep in Sam's mind, too far away to reach, too far away to find. As Dean stared at Sam, he longed, wished and prayed to just see a flicker of Sammy, his Sammy. He didn't know when he decided that Sam was different to Sammy; it just occurred to him, it made more sense to him. Sam was what he was now; Sammy was what he had been. Sammy is what Dean wanted to get back.

Dean walked into the motel room, he hadn't noticed that they had stopped driving and found a place to stay at. Sam was driving today, Dean was too tired to drive and he just longed for sleep. Maybe Sam would be Sammy in the morning. He doubted it. Dean collapsed onto the bed, fully dressed, too tired to shower or change, he heard Sam something but he was already gone.

The next morning Dean was woken by the sound of Sam's voice, he rolled over to see who is brother was talking to. He was pacing the small space in the bathroom, phone to his ear. He heard him say her name, heard him say Ruby; he was still talking to that demon behind his back. He heard Sam say goodbye and he rolled back over, faking sleep. He felt Sam tug at his exposed arm and he rolled back over, forcing himself to play nice. He ground his teeth as Sam informed him of a new hunt.

They left shortly after, Dean drove today, hoping the rumble of his baby's engine would ease his mind. He only grew tenser, Sam didn't talk to him as much any more, he just stared out the window. Not like he used to though, he held his body rigid and he always seemed to be miles away, miles away from Dean. Silence was the only sound in the car and it was louder then an enraged crowed, more deafening then a bad a band at a crappy bar. Dean switched on the music, AC/DC blurred from the speakers and Dean drank in the heavy music. He didn't think about Sam again, he didn't think about any of his problems until he found himself gazing at his brother's bruised face.

They had been hunting a s Siren and he or she, Dean didn't really know, knew that it them put them under a spell though. Turning them against each other and forcing them to revile hidden truths. So now that Dean gazed into his brother's bruised face, bruised by his hands, he only felt a flicker of pain. He turned away from his brother, later he'd say everything was ok, but things were so far from ok. Sam thought him weak, thought he was a better hunter, a smarter one, he didn't think Dean could take Lililth out. He didn't care that Dean had suffered in hell for forty years just for him.

He went though torture so unbearable he was surprised that he managed to make it to the thirty year mark, but what he did, what he did to those souls was worse then what happened to him. Maybe Sam was right, maybe he was weak, well, he maybe weak but he sure wasn't turning into a demon. He was pretty sure he hated demons a lot more now, he'd seen their true faces, he saw pure evil. But none of these thoughts had anything to do with his current situation.

He was just sitting in the Impala, staring at nothing, seething. He heard the car door open and Sam threw their duffels onto the back seat, he didn't say a thing, just stared at the dingy motel that stood before them. Dean stared the engine that's when Sam spoke, didn't say sorry or thank you, just that they had to follow Bobby. Dean only nodded in reply and followed his father figure in the vehicle before them.


Dean woke up at four o'clock in the morning; he and Sam were at a new no name motel in some shit hole of a town. Dean stared at the window, a small amount of light seeped through the gap in the dusty pink curtains. He shut his eyes, pushing away the ache in his chest that had soon overwhelmed him when he realised he hadn't cared that he'd hurt Sam. He'd even enjoyed the sight of his brother bruised and confused on the dirty floor. He still only half cared now, he was still seething. He hadn't spoken to Sam since they left Bobby and gone their separate ways.

They both said everything was ok, nothing, nothing was ok.

Dean rolled over to face the opposite bed, Sam was not there, he sat up, scanning the room, the bathroom door was shut. Dean flopped back down, more anger creeping up his spine. Sam was most likely talking to Ruby again, planning how'd they'd take down Lililth. She couldn't be trusted and when she backstabbed Sam, Dean would not be there. He wouldn't be there for Sam anymore and why should he? After all he went through in hell, after what he went through for Sam, he called him weak.

'No thank you Dean, you bought me back from the dead and I know you went through pain beyond words for me, so thanks'. Even a simple thanks would do but he got no thanks, just got a cold, different person. He got Sam, not his Sammy. Dean huffed angrily, he felt sweat beading on his forehead, it was so freaking hot. He jumped up and stormed towards the bathroom. He didn't knock, didn't care, just bust into the room, nearly collapsing to the ground at the sight before him.

Sam sat in the corner, blood smeared on his faces and clothes, tears streaked a path down his cheeks, mixing with the drying blood. Sam stared up at Dean through dull lifeless eyes. Dean didn't move though, he knew those eyes, they belonged to Sammy, innocent and sweet they were not but broken and soft was also a look of the old Sam. Dean took a few tentative steps towards his broken brother, his heart racing and thoughts running wild.

He crouched down before him and reached out to him, he flinched under his touch but didn't pull away. Dean took Sam's hand into his own and that's when he found the source of all the blood. He gently turned his little brother's hand over; a deep line was visible, blood seeping out. But it wasn't the only mark; paler lines marked his skin, some just visible. Dean felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach, how could he be so selfish? He'd been after a thank you from Sam when he should have been saying sorry. His trip to hell had broken his brother, shattered him.

And he ignored it, he didn't see it! How the hell could he not see it, not notice that his baby brother was self-harming. He should have seen it, should of known, should have been a better brother.

"I'm sorry" Sam mumbled, wiping angrily at his tears only smearing more blood onto his face, he'd cut both wrists. "I wasn't… I wasn't tying to kill myself… I wouldn't… I just needed to feel better."

"Hey, shhh" Dean interrupted Sam's mumbled rant "Its ok, shhh, its ok."

"No it's not ok!" he choked out "I shouldn't be doing this, you gave you're life for me and I haven't even thanked you."

"No need" Dean heaved Sam to his feet and led him to the bedroom. "I'm gonna fix you up Sammy" he placed Sam's shaky form onto the bed and went to get the first aid kit, while Sam ranted more about being sorry. Dean shh'd him again before starting to clean his wrists and bandage them.

"I don't think you're weak Dean" Sam said audible "I just think you're not as strong as you were."

Well at least he's honest Dean thought to himself.

"I don't know what you've been though" he continued, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't judge you, I just don't know what to think anymore."

Dean looked up at Sam now, his worried eyes meeting Sam's teary ones "what do you mean?"

"You're different," he said slowly "But the same…" he shook his head angrily "I am… different… I had to become you to keep fighting but I couldn't."

Dean had no words to offer Sam, he seemed to still be rambling, he lent closer and smelt his brother's breath; alcohol tinged the air he breathed in. Sam had been drinking and self-harming, he was falling apart and he was worried he couldn't be Dean. But hey, Dean couldn't be Dean much anymore either "You're strong Sam" he took both of Sam's hands into his own "and… we're both different… changed by what has happened… but we're still the same, deep down inside."

Sam chuckled dryly "Here I was thinking I was a demon deep down inside."

Dean frowned at his brother "You're not a demon Sam."

"How do you know?" he looked away "You keep trying to say I'm not when one day I could just turn, switch like that" he clicked his fingers.

"You won't" Dean said forcing his voice to stay firm "I won't let you."

"Am I still Sammy to you?" he looked back now, his eyes clouded with tears of uncertainty.

"Of course you are" he then stood up "now enough with the chick-flick moments, its four in the morning we should be asleep."

"Ok De" Sam seemed to just flop down, his body obviously exhausted from the blood lose and the fight from earlier. Dean gently covered Sam with his blankets, then collapsed onto his bed.

He'd seeked the old Sammy for weeks and he'd found him, bloody, bruised and broken on the bathroom floor.

Please review and sorry for any spelling mistakes (I can't remember if I had this beta'd)