Spoiler warning: You need to have at least watched season 4 for this to make any sense. Also, I have used a few spoilers for upcoming season 5 to twist into my own story. :) If you don't read spoilers then you really won't know what they are since it's nothing major.

I just posted a second chapter to a drabble challenge from a few weeks ago. It's called Priorities. If you ever wondered what would happen if someone stole the Impala...well, that's my version of it. I'd love to hear what you think about it and this one too!

Remember: Reviews rock my world!

"Bobby, I don't know where he is. I've been looking everywhere and I can't find him."

Dean struggled to keep the panic from his voice but it wasn't working. He was frantic. He had went out for breakfast late this morning and left Sam sleeping at the motel. When he came back his brother was gone. He'd been searching the town all day, calling his brother and leaving a thousand messages….all with no luck.

"What was the last thing you guys talked about last night?" asked Bobby. Dean could almost hear the gears grinding in Bobby's head, trying to come up with some kind of angle, some place they hadn't thought of.

Dean sighed. "We didn't talk, Bobby. We just went to bed. He won't talk to me, won't even look at me unless he has to."

"Damn it, Dean. I told you to make him talk."

"I've tried, Bobby!" Dean bit his lip to keep the sob that had been building all morning from coming out. "He won't…ever since we left Chuck's house he's just….he's shut down."

Dean's phone beeped. Another call was trying to come through. "Hang on, Bobby. I've got another call…Hello?"

"Is this Dean? Sam's Dean?" It was a woman's voice.

"Where's my brother?"

"He's okay. He's with me."

"Okay. Who the hell are you?"

"Lindsey. Look, I'll explain when you get here." She gave him an address and her side of the phone went dead.

"Bobby? You still there?"

"Yeah. Was that Sam?"

"No, but I know where he is and I'm going to get him."

"Dean, there are people looking for you guys. Be careful."

Dean blew out his breath, checking his gun once more and tucking it into his waistband. He was standing in front of the apartment number that the girl had given him on the phone. He had no idea what would happen when the door was opened. Since Lucifer had been sprung from his cage, Dean was only expecting the worst when it came to him and Sam.

Dean paused right before knocking on the door. He pulled out a vial of holy water and doused his right hand with it, tucked the vial back in his pocket and proceeded to knock.

The door was opened by an attractive brunette. Dean stuck out his right hand. "Are you Lindsey?"

"Yes." She took the offered hand and Dean watched closely for any reaction to the holy water. The only thing Dean saw was her barely disguised look of revulsion as she discreetly wiped her hand on her jeans after breaking the handshake. "You must be Dean."

Dean breathed a little easier knowing that at least it wasn't a demon that his brother had been picked up by. Lindsey stepped back from the door and motioned for Dean to come in.

"He's in here." Lindsey led the way to a room at the back of her apartment. When Dean entered he saw Sam sprawled across the bed. His shirt was unbuttoned and his boots were on the floor.

"Did he…um…pass out on you?"

"No, not really." Lindsey's face began to blush. "We were….well, you know….kissing and such…."

"And such? Really?" He glanced at his fully dressed brother and grinned.

"He started crying."

The grin disappeared from Dean's face. "What?"

"It was the most horrible thing I'd ever heard. He sobbed and sobbed. Said he'd done horrible things that nobody could ever forgive him of….especially you."

Dean tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. "Did he….did he say anything else?"

"No." Lindsey brushed back a strand of hair from Sam's sleeping face. "I just…I held him until he went to sleep. But every once in awhile he would call your name. I thought you must be worried about him so I found your number in his cell phone."

Dean picked Sam's boots off the floor and began putting them on his younger brother's feet. "Thank you."

He wanted to say more to the girl who had just saved him hours of worry but he couldn't trust his voice just yet. He didn't want to be the second sobbing man in her apartment today.

"I know an addict when I see one, Dean." Lindsey had buttoned Sam's shirt. "I was one for years. Your brother, he's got it bad. I cut him off at the bar but he was there long before my shift and nobody else would cut him off."

"You think he's an alcoholic?" Dean gave a bitter laugh. "God, how I wish."

"If it's not alcohol, then what?"

"Something much worse than alcohol." Dean sat on the edge of the bed. "Sammy, come on, dude. Time to go."

Sam's eyes fluttered open. "Dean? Where am I?"

"Lindsey's apartment."

"Lindsey?" Dean could see Sam's eyes searching about for something familiar. Then his cheeks reddened. "Oh."

"Yeah, come on, Romeo. I'm getting you out of here. Lindsey's had enough for today."

Sam leaned heavily against Dean as they headed for the door. Dean wasn't sure if Sam was still drunk or if he was just that tired.

At the door, Lindsey stopped them and handed Sam his phone. "I put my number in there, Sam. If you ever need me again, just call."

Sam mumbled thanks and shoved the phone into his pocket, pleading to Dean with his eyes to get him out of here.

Dean tightened his grip on Sam. "Thanks Lindsey, but you're probably better off forgetting you ever met either one of us."

Back at the motel, Dean sat patiently, waiting for Sam to get out of what seemed to be the longest shower on record. He knew Sam was trying to avoid questioning but Dean wasn't going to avoid it any longer.

Finally Sam emerged with a billow of steam, pulled on a pair of jeans and t-shirt and sat on the bed, cradling his head in his hands. Dean dragged the chair he was sitting in over to Sam's bed until he was knee to knee with his brother.

"Sammy? Time to talk, dude."

No response. Damn, he'd never been good at the sharing and caring. Sam was always the one who knew what to say, could choose the right words. It was easier for Dean to just hit something and be done with it.

"Sammy, please."

Sam finally looked up at him and Dean saw nothing but despair and hopelessness in his brother's dark eyes. "Why? It won't change anything, Dean."


Sam held out his trembling hands as if that was proof of what he said. "Even now, I want it."

Dean grasped Sam's hands in his own. "Your body is telling you that you want it but it doesn't mean it's you. It doesn't mean it's what you want. Is it what you want?"

"NO! I wish to God…." Sam pulled away from his brother. "I'm a monster, Dean. Dad was right when he said you'd have to kill me."

Dean shook his head. "No, Sammy."

"Chuck said my eyes were black!" cried Sam. "I set Lucifer free! What else do I need to do in order for you to see what I am?"

Dean grasped Sam by the shoulders and forced his brother to look at him. "You're my brother, Sammy. You're my brother and I'm sorry I let this happen to you. I'm sorry I've pushed you away all these years. But this stoic, suffering by yourself thing doesn't work. I know."

"That's why you have to shoot me." Sam's tears betrayed the conviction in his words.

"Sammy, if I thought you were evil….." Dean swallowed hard. "Maybe then, I might be able to discuss this but you're not evil. Messed up, yeah. But that's the story of our lives."

"How am I supposed to live with this, Dean? How do I go on, knowing what I did? How can…."

Sam began to weep.

"You talk to me, dude." Dean leaned his forehead against Sam's bowed head.

Sam managed a weak laugh. "Since when did you ever want to talk?"

"Since not talking almost cost me my little brother."