Okay… so this is "Breath"! And we slowly come to an end of this series… only two chapters left.

"Broken" and "Everything".

The problem I had with this story? I couldn't – for a long time – decide who is who… so… if you are interested in the story, playing the other way around, let me know… In the end I let it run like this… I hope you don't mind!

Vonnie! This is totally for you!

all: Enjoy!


She was straddling him, her small frame pressing down on his body heavily.

Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Sam where she had thrown him into the wall, unmoving.

Grinning down at him with yellow teeth her eyes blazed in a dark fire, her hands holding his locked above his head.

"Love is an impure, dirty feeling. I can feel it in you. You're afraid he's not okay…" her head turned towards Sam and she looked greedily at his still form.

"It is your weakness. And you'll pay dearly for it…"

She let go of his wrists, bending over him, sharp nails biting through his shirt, breaking skin.

Dean grunted in pain and bucked against the weight on top of him, listened to her words as everything around him grew hazy, as only the pain of her fingers digging deeper and deeper remained; the digits searching… searching and finding.

The last of his breath stuck in the back of his throat as he felt her touching something so intimate within him, changing it… forever.

Unconsciousness had its claws reached out for him, trying to drag him under, away from reality. But the moment she touched him inside, someone's agonized scream ripped through the haze, made him draw back and blinking against the settling darkness around him.

Sam. It had been Sam's scream. He gained strength from that, his flailing hand searching for the dagger he knew he had lost as the witch had attacked him. Sound was coming back in a rush. Sam was still screaming and he heard the bitch talk under the voice of his brother…

"… until the last breath…"

His hand found the handle of the knife and with every ounce of strength he had left, he lifted it, its blade slashing easily through her carotid artery and stopped her flow of words forever. Silently, eyes wide open she stared at him, before falling off of him sideways.

But it was too late, as only seconds later something washed through his body, invading his personal space with such vengeance; he forgot how to think or to breathe. Dean's eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he recognized the familiarity of the presence inside of him.


Sam's scream slowly abated to soft, hitching whimpers while Dean slowly managed to get control of his body back. Exhausted, he rolled to his side, pulling his legs up to a foetal position, a dry sob escaping his throat as he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened.

Another, gurgling sound and the feeling of sudden panic made him turn and push to all fours, forgetting his own discomfort for the moment.

Sam. He had to get to Sam!


He was pacing right outside the doors that led to the trauma-room. Not able to stay still. Not able to calm down.

They had taken him away. They had taken him away from him. But still: he could feel him, and he knew his brother felt him in return. He knew his breath was in synch with his sibling's, albeit where his body was fizzing with energy his sibling's was draining slowly.

It was the most terrifying and at the same time fascinating experience he ever had.

It felt as if his mind was ripped in two, connected to his brother, at the same time living his life and Sam`s.

And he could feel Sam here with him.

He stopped at the window for a moment, looking out into the dark night, while his hands unconsciously ran over his torn shirt, halting for a moment over the punctured wounds he had sustained. Wounds that weren't bleeding, while his brother…

His breath hitched and his stomach plummeted towards the ground. The taste and smell of iron suddenly assaulting his senses. The world around him dimmed, one feeling he wasn't all too used to suddenly rising on top to blend out all the other twisted and strange feelings that came with Sam and the weird spell the damn witch had spoken.


Unabated terror.

He had difficult breathing, as if a chain was wrapped around his chest, someone pulling the ends tighter and tighter. He lifted his hands to his throat, gasping in breath after little breath. He knew this wasn't his body failing. This was Sam's… and with the knowledge, his brother's fear grew even stronger, dimmed the world around him further until Sam was stronger then ever present in his head. Afraid, small, helpless…

His legs moved without him knowing. The doors to the trauma room swishing open as he entered without hesitation. He tore his left arm free of the orderly who tried to stop him, balling his right hand to a fist to break the guy's nose.

Shrill beeping was everywhere around him, people shouting, to get him out.

But there was only one place he needed to be. Sam's side…

He heard snippets of words as he walked up to the gurney.

"No sign of outer trauma…"

"Internal bleeding…"

He knew what was happening. He knew that he wore the wounds to the injuries his sibling suffered from.

His hand dropped shakily on top of his little brother's head feeling the soft hair under his rough palms.

The fear was so strong inside and around him now; he swallowed against the growing lump in his throat. The taste of iron on his tongue and lips so heavy he had to suppress a gag.

He knew what was happening. God, it hurt! His little brother was hurting!

He hitched in another small puff of air, felt something run down his chin in synch with the thin trail of blood running down Sam's chin. As if the people around him and Sam could feel it, the room grew quiet; everyone seemed to watch them interact.

Dean's eyes continued to rest on his brother's face, the slowly relaxing features he had loved for as long as he remembered.

"I know what you feel…" the words a mere whisper.

"I can feel…" his fingers wiped away the bloody trail on Sam's face, before dropping to Sam's chest.

The noise died down as the staff around them stopped their frantic work completely. Dean knew what to say next, remembered the curse. But he was afraid to speak it out loud. Because if this would go down wrong… he didn't dare to even think about it. He just knew it would simply be the end of him too. So instead he closed his eyes. Let that connection he felt ever since the curse hit lead him. His calm thoughts hitting the messy, panicky jumble of feelings of his brother, fighting for dominance, asking him to listen to him, to trust him as he always had.

He knew, far away, in a real world the hospital-staff was watching him and his brother, witnessing something they would never be able to grasp nor to understand. And at some point of his consciousness he knew he would have to bail Sammy out as soon as he got everything under control…


It took him a moment to recognize that this word had not been formed from his mind.


What's happening to me… us…

"I'm scared!"

He whirled around to see a small boy looking up at him, a gentle smile forming on his lips.


"Is it the monsters?"

"No, Sammy. It's just me. No need to be scared." He answered.

"I… can feel you…" the small boy said. He said nothing in return, just continued to smile.

"You… you want me to go?" He watched the small bottom-lip quiver and felt his strength waver.

"No…" he whispered hoarsely and the moment he had spoken the words he knew he had said them out loud in the real world.

He sank down to his knees, wrapped strong arms around the small child. His brother. His…

"No…" he repeated.

"I… I never want you to go. I just want you to stop… hurting."

"I'm afraid…" the small, muffled voice told him.

"I know. But, you have to trust me. You… just have to let go for a moment, okay?"

"I don't wa-wanna let go…" those few hiccupped words almost made him sob.

"Sammy… you have'ta. Don't be afraid… I'll make sure… I'll… make sure… "

He could feel breathing getting more difficult by the second.

"Sammy… please…" … the image of the small boy vanished before his mind's eyes and he slowly opened his eyes to stare into the glassy and unfocused gaze of his brother's.

"Dean…" it was a mere whisper and this time tears welled up as he watched the blood run down the side of Sam's face to his neck to soak the white sheet he lay on.

"Let go… just for a moment Sam… It'll be okay. YOU'll be okay. I… I know you will. Trust me. Just let go…"

"I don't wanna let…" the last word was drowned out by the shrill beeping and screeching of every available machine attached to Sam.


Everything he had felt the last couple of hours was gone. For a moment he felt empty, emotionally drained and utterly alone. An ache started deep within his chest, forcing his breathing to stutter.

For a moment he didn't know what was happening, as a dizzy-spell washed over him, making it impossible for him to determine where up and down and left and right was.

He could feel fingers dig into his biceps, dragging him away from the gurney and Sam, while something warm started to tickle down his sides.

The shrill beeping suddenly changed into a rhythm, while he was slowly escorted back towards the doors of the emergency-room. The ache inside his chest grew, his breath stumbling and the taste of iron in his mouth was back.

He was already in a daze as the hands that had led him out of the room let go of him. Cold washed over him, making him shudder. Behind him the doors slowly closed, before a voice boomed over all the rest of the yelling.

"Let go of me! It isn't me! It's my brother!"

He was surprised by that. Slowly, he turned around to feel something wet running down his chin, dripping to the floor. Looking at the moisture he saw the red splash of blood on the floor.

His head slowly lifted up as the door swished open again and he saw Sam standing there, eyes still glazed over but alive. Breathing.

His smile turned into a cough, more blood splattering and panic slowly made his stomach clench painfully.

He tried to draw in another breath, felt liquid run back down, clogging his airways and the world around him tilted alarmingly.

From far he could hear Sam's shout of his name. Strong hands holding onto him, guiding him down to his knees as his legs buckled, his head dropping to his kid brother's shoulder, blood draining the white shirt crimson.

"Help! I need help! Goddamnit! Help him!"

Sound and vision blackened out. The only feeling remaining was Sam. Sam everywhere.


"Don't let go…."


It had felt strange and comforting at the same time. Dean invading every part of him… and he in return feeling Dean… he knew it had to be a strong spell, to bind two souls, to link them together like this.

The pain he had felt next was so intense… he didn't know where it came from, just knew it took his breath away. For a moment his hands grabbled helplessly on his chest, trying to stop it. Then blood had flooded his mouth, its iron taste almost making him puke.

He had screamed at that point, pain so intense he needed an outlet. Slowly it ebbed away, leaving him whimpering, his breath hitching, stopping him from inhaling fully. He had embraced the darkness that came next, surrendered fully to it.


"I'm scared!" he softly said.

His brother whirled around to meet his wavering gaze. A gentle smile formed on his lips.

"Sammy." He replied still smiling.

"Is it the monsters?" he asked next, all but six years again.

"No, Sammy. It's just me. No need to be afraid." Dean answered reassuringly.

"I… can feel you…" it was a hesitant commitment, but he relaxed further when his brother simply continued to smile.

"You… you want me to go?" He couldn't hold back the fear that accompanied his words, his bottom-lip started to quiver as he tried keeping calm.

"No…" it wasn't more then a hoarse whisper, but it still) reverberated through the place they were at the moment. His brother took the two steps that kept them apart and sank to his knees. Strong, warm arms wrapping around him, rocking him for a moment. His brother. His…

"No…" Dean repeated.

"I… I never want you to go. I just want you to stop… hurting."

"I'm afraid…" he repeated, his voice muffled by his brother's clothes and body.

"I know. But, you have to trust me. You… just have to let go for a moment, okay?"

"I don't wa-wanna let go…" Sam hiccupped, leaning further into his big brother's embrace.

"Sammy… you have'ta. Don't be afraid… I'll make sure… I'll… make sure… "

Panicking he forced his eyes open, every breath he drew painful and incomplete.

He knew what his brother wanted him to do. And he didn't want to, because he knew what listening to his brother meant.

Fierce, green eyes met his, looking, searching, evaluating.

Then he heard his brother's voice again. Calm, confident.

"Let go…" Dean whispered. And Sam wanted to yell "No", wanted to scream "No".

This is my fault Sammy. He could read it in his brother's eyes, pleading with him now.

"Let go… just for a moment Sam… It'll be okay. YOU'll be okay. I… I know you will. Trust me. Just let go…"

And he did… just for a moment, but he did.


He bolted awake to the knowledge of something bad about to happen. His brother was gone, and his breathing felt easy and without pain. He was alone again. The part of Dean that had been in him was gone.

He immediately knew what this meant: His brother had broken the curse.

Hands tried to push him back down to the gurney and he fought them off, yelled over their assault.

"Let go of me! It isn't me! It's my brother!"

He was on his feet, pushing a nurse out of his path to the door. The door swished open the moment his brother turned around, eyes fogged with pain, blood running down his chin to drop on the ground.


"Sammy…" it was whispered breathlessly and soundlessly, before Dean coughed, splattering blood everywhere. His legs gave way under him. But Sam was already on the move, catching him in time to ease him to his knees.

"Help! I need help! Goddamnit! Help him!"

He could feel his brother's weight growing heavier and heavier as blood soaked into his shirt, where Dean's head lay on his shoulder.

"I won't let go! You hear?" He shook his brother gently.

"I won't let go! Don't you dare to let go, Dean. You hear? Don't you dare to let go!"


It was a hot day, the sun beating down on the earth, warming the air. He squinted up into the burning ball, using one of his hands as a shield.

A shriek had him whirling around, just in time as a small body connected with him, sending both sprawling.

"Deeeannnn!" the little boy on top of him squealed, small body pressing him into the soft grass underneath his body, hands resting on his shoulders, keeping him down.

He looked up an amused giggle escaping him, but he stopped, looking at his little brother's serious features.

"Dean." The kid repeated his name.

"Whatever happens… we stay together, right? You and me."

He nodded, suddenly aware that the sun hid behind dark, threatening clouds.

"Sammy?" he asked, foreboding making his stomach turn.

"Whatever happens… don't let go…"


The hospital-staff had acted weird around them, glances shared his direction when he had left his brother's side to get some coffee. It seemed they were waiting for something to happen again. Sam knew they were afraid. And as much as he'd like to have Dean under professional care, he knew as soon as his brother was showing a sign for the better he would bail him.

He knew it was only a matter of time, before someone checked into their past, find out about him and Dean. It was fear he read in those peoples eyes. They did the necessary. Tended Dean's needs, dressed his wounds. But it was apprehensive and compelled.

Dean had earned to be tended with care.

Snapping his cell-phone shut, Sam nodded to himself. Bobby was on his way. The moment Dean woke they would get him out of here, lay low for a couple of days or weeks, until his brother was better.

Sam owed it to him.


Bobby put the key in the lock, letting himself into the motel-room quietly.

He had left right away, after Sam's call, driven down to meet them, without a real break.

At the hospital, the moment he had asked the nurse at the front desk for the room-number of his nephew the nurse's gaze had darkened and her voice had been cold as she told him the room number.

When he entered Sam had looked up from his seat beside his brother. Blood-shot eyes surrounded by dark smudges had blinked at him for a moment, before the exhaustion lifted enough and he had smiled tiredly up at Bobby.

"He's been awake. Just a few minutes, but he's been awake, Bobby." was Sam's greeting, as he pushed to his feet, took the two steps around the chair to embrace the older hunter.

"How's that idjit-brother of yours, Sam? What the hell happened?" He had listened quietly to Sam's story, nodding and groaning a few times. After Sam had finished, he went over to the bed, lowering the sheet gently, to inspect the damage.

Whistling, he turned serious eyes on Sam.

"I'll be damned..."

"It was touch and go for a while, his left lung collapsed, totally." Sam washed his hands over his hair, over his face, back to the neck before dropping it into his lap.

"But he's getting better." He lowered his voice.

"I want him out of here. I don't trust the people around here. They're afraid. Bad things can happen, when fear's clouding your mind..." he left the sentence open.

Bobby nodded.

"He'll be too weak to help."

"I know."

"We have to be extra-careful."

"I know."

"You need to sleep..."

"As soon as I know he's safe..."


He felt weird. His chest oddly congested, as if he had come down with a heavy flu. He slowly blinked sleep away to find himself staring at the threadbare, fading wall paper of the room he was in. This wasn't a hospital.

He was lying on his side, propped up by pillows he figured. Taking a shuddering breath, he felt that the expanding of his lungs was still constricted, his left side pulling painfully.

He winced, scrunching his eyes close against the pain, trying to level his breathing, but failing miserably.

"Dean… hey Dean!" A hand pressed softly down on the wound in his side, the pressure easing the pain a little.

"Easy man, easy!"

He forced his breathing to slow down and his eyes to open again, blinking against the threatening tears.

"That's it…" the hand vanished and for a moment he wanted to grab for it, but withstood the urge.

Sam looked down at him, a soft smile playing on his lips, dark smudges making the green in his eyes almost glow.

"You look like shit!" Dean's quip came out in a breathless whisper, failing their purpose.

Sam's smile grew into a smirk.

"Says the guy who's not able to keep his eyes open…"

Dean flinched and snapped his eyes open again, exhaustion already making his head swim and he groaned quietly as another wave of pain rolled over him, making his breath stumble again.

The mattress dipped and Dean could feel Sam's hand on the wound again.

"Sorry... shhh… slow down… you'll make it worse…"

He concentrated on the gentle pressure, felt the pain slowly abating, his breathing easing.

"Thanks…" he whispered tiredly.

"Go back to sleep… I know how you feel… I know…"


I'd have loved to let them keep this connection… although they already are connected… but who knows… Sam still knew how Dean felt… he knew… ;)

Hope you enjoyed the story… stay tuned in for "broken"