--okay, last chap. Wen 1, i lied. Sorry. : ) --

Forgive Me Brother, For I Have Sinned

I was a little worried when Sam stopped talking. I could hear him walking around, pacing back and forth, pissed, I didn't doubt. Bobby had been gone for some time now and I was still here, still alone, still fighting with myself to just open the damn door. And I kept telling myself no. I can't do that. I have to leave him in there.

Those painful tears came back again but I pushed them away. They wouldn't listen though.

This just couldn't be easy, could it? This just couldn't be something that didn't hurt and tear at my heart like a hungry animal, leaving it raw and ragged. I gripped my chest, god it hurt so damn much.

God that constant pacing. I could hear the grains of salt on the floor grind under his feet as he moved back and forth.

I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to push the sounds out, desperately trying to make it go away. I wished I was anywhere other than here. Anywhere. Well, almost.

I tried thinking of somewhere better. Somewhere that wasn't dark, that wasn't soaked in misery, that didn't have evil seeping under the doorway. I could have thought of such a place, if the pacing would stop. My head fell back against the hard iron, sending pain throughout my head. It was better than being able to think. Maybe a bullet would be better. Maybe a bullet would last longer. Just right in my head…

"Dean." I looked up, startled.

"Cas?" I said hoarsely. I stood, surprised to see the angel here. He stared at me, his face void of emotion. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Other than the fact that you want to kill yourself." He said blankly. I flexed my jaw.

"You tell me in my freakin' dream to come and talk to you because of god knows what. Then I find out you got yanked from your body. You get back inside Jimmy and you tell me that you 'serve heaven' and 'don't serve me' and walk out of the place!" I snarled.

Pacing.

"And you wanna bitch at me because I thought about shooting myself for a second? You scared the crap out of me! Hell I thought you were dead! And you come back and say that to me. Fine, fucking fine."

"Dean, I don't-"

"You don't think, man! God, I can't believe I actually gave a damn. Or that I thought you gave a damn."

Pacing.

"I do give a damn, Dean," Castiel said. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"To bitch," I said bluntly. "To point out something that I've done wrong, or something else that was my fault. Hell let's throw 9 11 into the mix, did I do that too?"

"Dean, stop," Castiel said. I felt those damn tears again. Once again I blinked them away. "Dean, I came here to tell you not to lose faith," I scoffed. Faith, yeah that was so easy to have. "And that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did." I was taken aback by the angel's comment.

Pacing.

I shook my head. I didn't have time for this.

"Thanks for the Full House moment Cas, but I kinda have my hands full right now." I mumbled. Castiel nodded.

"I understand," He looked at the floor, then back at me. "Be careful, Dean." And he disappeared again. I ran my hand over my face, sliding down the door again. I grabbed that familiar bottle of whiskey next to me and took a swig, relishing that burn. The pain was better than thinking. Thank god the pacing had stopped-

Stopped. Sam had stopped. I turned and looked at the door, waiting, for…something.

"Dean?" The voice was small, scared, shaking. "Dean, help…" A mental battle faster than lightning flashed through my mind, and my instinct won out. I reached for the heavy lock and gave it a hard yank. "Dean, please!" The handle came next, groaning as it came up in my hand. I darted into the room, running to the corner my brother was huddled in, ignoring the sound of the door closing behind me.

"Sammy, Sammy, look at me!" I said frantically, trying to lift my brother's limp head. "Sammy, what's wrong?"

"Th-the only th-thing wr-wrong is," His voice trembled, his eyes downcast. But only for a moment. Slowly a smile crept across his face, dark and cold. His hate-filled eyes looked up at me in amusement. "Is that you fell for that."


It was too easy, far too easy to get him in here. I was getting out of here. I knew Bobby had gone and Dean was alone. And Dean was so easy to fool when he thought I was in trouble. Weak little idiot! As I grinned up at him I saw the fear in his eyes, fear I drank in and let it fuel me. He was scared of me. Good. Damn good. I brought my fist up hard into his jaw before he could move. I was getting out of here, out! But that doesn't mean it had to be in a rush. Dean fell onto the floor, disoriented.

He started to push himself off the ground. I kicked him as hard as I could in the ribs, hearing a satisfying cry from him. I giggled. The thirst in the back of my throat was so strong I could hardly focus, but I could pay enough attention to this.

"Sammy, stop it Sammy, please!" I kicked him again, this time in his face. He fell to the ground, spitting blood onto the iron floor. Now I know why Alastair liked this so much. He pushed himself up onto his hands, coughing. I kicked his ribs again. "Sammy!" He gasped, breath labored. I grabbed his shirt and forced his face up to mine.

"DON'T," I drove my fist into his face. "CALL," Another punch. "ME," And another. "SAMMY!" I hit him as hard as I could. I let him go. He fell onto his back. I gave him no time to recover and kicked his throat. Not hard enough to snap his neck, but enough to hurt like a bitch and make it real hard to breathe. He coughed hard and violently, clutching his neck, tears in his eyes.

"Please," He choked. "Stop, please!" Go ahead and cry. I wanted him to. I wanted to see those tears on his face. This is what he got for throwing me in here like a wild animal.

Blood fell from his nose, dark bruises already appearing on his face and neck.

I wanted more blood. I wanted to see more of his blood spill. I grabbed him by his injured neck and slammed him against a wall with one arm. He gasped for breath that I wouldn't let him have.

"You think I'm a monster Dean, huh? Well you're about to see just how big of a monster I am." I reached into his pocket, grabbing the pocket knife that I knew resided there. With a simple flick of my wrist it was open. I looked for some place that I could cut him, somewhere I could see blood. I shoved it through the fabric of his black shirt, ignoring his soft pleas, and tore it.

"God, you're so fucking weak, Dean. It makes me sick." I looked at the flesh I had revealed and grinned. He squirmed, trying desperately to get away from me. I laughed.

"Please! No!" He rasped. I pushed the knife into his skin and dragged down, nice and slow. He screamed, well, he tried to scream. I laughed again. I ripped another part of his shirt and cut the skin there. I shut my eyes and leaned my head back as he screamed. God, that sound was so good. Almost better than the blood. Dean didn't try and kick out to get me off of him.

You were right. He won't hurt me.

Let him go! For God's sake he's your brother! Look at what you're doing to him! LET HIM GO, NOW! I cut Dean again as a response.

"You're right Dean!" I said over his strangled cries. "I am evil! And you can't save me!" I grinned when I saw the tears on his face. More fear, more pain. So good…

Tear another place, slice again. "Is this what it felt like in Hell, Dean? But this is different isn't it? Oh, yeah, I'm the one doing it." Tear, slice. Tear, cut. Tear, carve. I laughed.

"Sam, God please, let me go." He whimpered. So good…So good…


I tried prying my little brother's hands off of my neck. I tried to swallow. Some things just didn't happen. Like this. Things like this just didn't happen. Little brothers didn't carve their brothers and smile about it. Little brothers didn't laugh at their brother's screams and pleas to let them go. No, they just didn't happen, to other people. But to me it did.

Was this atonement for what I had done downstairs? Is that why Cas hadn't come to help me?

The cold steel slashed through the skin on my chest, and Sam laughed like a maniac when I screamed.

"No, please, stop! God, please!" I begged. Harder laughter.

Help me, someone help me…Anyone, please.

This is a nightmare. And you can't die in nightmares. If you die you wake up, right? You wake up! God, Sammy, kill me. Kill me please!

"…I meant everything I said about you. How you hold me back. How weak you are. You don't deserve to live. Especially after what you did down there. Starting the apocalypse, hurting all those poor people. You deserve this. I'm doing God's work, Dean. Just like you did." He grinned and pressed his thumb into an open wound. My shirt hung in tatters on my body, drenched in blood. One simple tug would take it off completely. This wouldn't kill me. Yet. This wouldn't send me to the hospital. Yet.

I marveled at the hate in Sam's eyes. He did hate me. I couldn't remember a time when he didn't. This was the only part of Sam I remembered.

I couldn't breathe. My throat was on the verge of snapping in half, I just knew it. I was breathing just enough to where I wouldn't pass out. Hot tears fell like rain from my eyes, I couldn't stop. I didn't have the strength. Pain pulsated through my body. But my heart hurt the worst. I would do anything to protect Sam. Anything. I could not hurt him if I tried. No matter what he did to me.

So kill me Sammy. That's the only way this will end.

He dropped the knife. I thanked God, but the thanks was short lived. Sam took me off the wall, his hand still in a vice on my neck.

"I'm bored. I think we should end this now." His hand squeezed tighter.

"Sammy," My voice was barely a whisper. "Sammy, please!" Tighter.

"What did I say about calling me that?" I coughed. Tighter, tighter. My world was becoming black around the edges, and fading fast. "Bye-bye big brother." As my eyes closed I heard a loud squeak and a thud. I felt pain rupture in my shoulder as I hit something hard. I heard Sam yell, then I heard nothing.


I sat up, breathing hard.

"Hey, Dean, you okay?" Bobby asked. I nodded.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine."

"I'm goin' to bed, okay?" He said. I nodded again. "You follow me soon, alright? You need to rest," I nodded again. "You sure you're okay?" Nod. "Alright." He turned and headed out of sight.

A dream. It was nothing more than a nightmare. A horrible nightmare that meant nothing. I was relieved, more than I could say. I stood, and that's when I felt it. Pain, horrible pain. Everywhere. In my head, in my throat, my whole torso, my heart. I looked down and saw the shreds of T-shirt that was left on lying on the floor, and the bandages on my body. I stood and went after Bobby, slowly. Agonizingly slow.

"Bobby!" There was hardly any sound. But the older man heard. "What happened?" I croaked.

"Sam beat you to hell and was choking you to death. I grabbed a shotgun and hit him in the back of his head with it. Then I got you the hell out of there."

My heart broke then and there. He had done it. My brother had tortured me. And he had enjoyed every second of it. I leaned against the wall, the cold touching my skin. I couldn't stand anymore. My legs wouldn't hold me up, from both exhaustion and disgust. Bobby caught me.

"C'mon, you need to rest, kid," The tears were there again, annoying and hated. Bobby saw them. "Dean, it's alright," He hugged me as I cried, unable to hold my sobs at bay. I was too tired. "We'll fix Sam, alright? We can fix this."

"Why? Why did he do this to me?" God my throat hurt so bad. I could still feel his fingers. I could still see that smile. Bobby sighed.

"I don't know, Dean. I really don't, but we'll fix this." I cried harder. There was no hope anymore. Not anymore. My brother was gone.


What have I done? What did I do to him? To my brother. To the man that had protected me since I was a baby.

I had hurt him. Physically, mentally.

The lack of blood had done it. It was all an episode of deprivation. God what have I done. I sobbed into my hands, hating myself. The fear I had put in his eyes, the tears, all of it. And I liked it. I had seen what the blood had done to me.

But I wanted, no, I needed more.

His beaten face flashed in front of my eyes again. What have I done?

"Forgive me, Dean."

END

--Once again, no flames Sammy girls. Just a thought. Feedback please!--