--No flames, no Wincest, K?--

Disclaimer: Boys aren't mine and neither is John or the Impala

Please, Don't Leave Me

"I don't care what the hell you say, Dad!" Sam yelled, his face red, toe to toe with his father. "It's my life! I can do what I want! And I don't want to do this anymore! I'm not gonna be like you!"

"YOU WANNA WALK OUT ON THIS FAMILY, YOU GO AHEAD!" John bellowed. I stood there, watching this like it was a TV show, not my life. I couldn't speak. All I could do was watch this nightmare unfold. My worst nightmare.

I knew when this started this wasn't going to end like most of their fights.

Usually Sam would back off after the first hour. He'd slam the door to the motel room and stand outside. Dad would vent on me for ten minutes, then I'd go outside and let Sammy vent. I didn't try to break the fight up, I got punched once in the crossfire for trying. There was no point.

But this. Sam was threatening to leave. His bag was packed and everything. He had it in his damn hand. No, no, he can't leave.



"I'M GETTING MY OWN LIFE! I don't want to do this for the rest of my life, Dad!"


I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to grab my Dad's throat and wring his neck for what he had just said. Sam looked down at the floor, nodding. He hoisted his bag over his shoulder and grabbed the doorknob.

"You walk out that door," Dad growled. "Don't you ever come back." Sam didn't even hesitate as he wrenched the door open and slammed it behind him. I ran after him, dodging my father's hand as he tried to stop me. I bolted out the door, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around before he could get any farther.

"Sammy, wait." I said. He looked at me, his face filled with defiance and irritation.

"Dean, I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I'm not like you guys. I can't do this for the rest of my life. I got accepted to Stanford. I'm going to have a normal life. I'm not gonna waste it fighting monsters." He said.

"Sammy, I know what you want. And you don't know how proud I am that you got into college but…"

"I'm leaving, Dean." He said stiffly. He turned.

"Sammy, please!" I said, hating how my voice cracked when I did. He turned around again. "Please, Sammy, don't leave me."

"I have to," He said. My heart twisted. "I'm not going to be his puppet for the rest of my life. I'm not going to be you."

The cab pulled up to the curb. He got in. And when the cab pulled away, he didn't even glance back.

I stood there for a long time, staring at the place he had just been. Maybe this was a dream. A horrible, awful nightmare that I would wake up from soon.

A hand clasped around my shoulder.

"Just you and me, Dean." A gruff voice said. I jerked from his grip, not facing him. He made him leave.

"I'm goin' out." I mumbled. I walked to the Impala, the one thing I could count on at all times. At least my baby wouldn't leave me too. I drove, putting the city lights behind me, putting the noise behind me, putting everything behind me.

I parked on a dirt road.

Sammy was gone. My Sammy was gone. My baby brother. The brother that I had raised almost by myself.

I still remember when Dad handed him to me that night. I remember hanging onto him in that blanket so tight it almost made my fingers hurt. I remember looking down at him when we were out of the house, at that tiny face thinking that from this point on I was going to protect him. It was my job to do that. How could I take care of him when he was gone?

Gone. Sammy was gone. Sammy left me when I swore not to leave him. I wasn't mad. Not even a little.

I was hurt. He broke my heart.

That's why I started to cry. Because the pain in my chest was too much and I had to let it out. And the lump in my throat was so large and painful it was choking me. Sammy was gone. And I wasn't getting him back. He didn't need me. He didn't want me around. He wanted to forget about hunting. About me, about Dad.

So I wouldn't go to Stanford to try and convince him to come back. I would let him have what he wanted. Why? Because I could never tell him no in the first place.

"Sammy…" I breathed through sobs. They wracked my body hard. Fat tears streamed down my face and stung my eyes. My ribs ached terribly.

My sobs took over me completely and I fell on my side, curled into a ball, my tears falling into the seat underneath me. I knew how pathetic it was. How fucking sad it was. How weak it was. But I had no strength right now. He was gone. My world was gone.

And it was that memory that came to mind right now as he stood over me. Hate strong in his face as he sneered at me, reaching for the doorknob.

"You walk out that door, don't you ever come back!" I choked. Maybe this time he would stay. Maybe this time he wouldn't leave me. But he didn't. He scowled at me and walked right out that door.

And after I tried to roll over and failed miserably, I felt those same helpless tears that I had felt all those years ago start to trickle from my eyes.

"Please, Sammy," I begged to nothing. "Don't leave me."