AN: Hey, guys! I was meaning to update this for a really long time now, but I kind of had a crazy month… But anyways, at least I got around to it now!

Later that night, Dean was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. It was twenty minutes past two in the morning and Dean still wasn't asleep. Despite everything that John and Sammy had told him, Dean was still feeling massive amounts of guilt. He couldn't let go of the idea that what happened to Sammy was his fault. If only I'd have watched him better, he wouldn't have broken his arm… How could I have been so stupid?… Sam forgave me so easily… I don't deserve it. Those were some of the thoughts that were running through Dean's head ever since John had tucked him in for the night. When Dean glanced at the digital alarm clock on his nightstand and realized that it would soon be three a.m., he decided that he couldn't stand this any longer. He got up and, against his better judgement, did something that John would absolutely hate to see him doing—he got out of his bed and tiptoed over to Sammy's room.

This is all my fault, Dean thought, looking at his little brother sleeping on his side, with a pillow propped up under his arm. The reason he's so uncomfortable now is because of me.

The last thought was too much for Dean, who stifled a sob as soon as the thought entered his mind. Sammy, who had always been a light sleeper, started to stir.

"No, no, Sammy, don't wake up. Don't wake up, please," Dean whispered furiously, but it was too late—his little brother sat up in bed and rubbed at his eyes with his one good hand.

"Is it time to wake up?" He asked groggily. "Deanie, what are you doing here?"

"Sorry, Sam, I didn't mean to wake you… I was just…."

"It's 'kay," Sam interrupted. "But why are you here?"

"I don't know… checking on you, I guess."

"Deanie," Sam said. "I'm fine. I already told you that. I don't need checking over."

"I know, Sam," Dean was at a loss for words. How could he properly phrase the guilt that he was feeling at this very moment? "It's just that, you know, I feel bad, for letting this happen to you and I wanted to make sure that you were okay."

"I told you that too… It wasn't your fault. I'm the one who was fooling around on the slide."

"But I…"

"Should have been watching me? Deanie, what could you have done if you were there?"

"I don't know… not let you…I don't know…"

Sammy looked at his brother with a stare that said See? I'm right, aren't I?

"Well I guess there aren't a lot of things that I could have done. But still…"

"Still what?"

"I still feel guilty."

"Dean," Sammy sat up once again and looked his older brother directly in the eye. "I don't want you to feel bad because of this. It's not your fault. I am sure that if you could have done something to stop this from happening, you would have. You're the best big brother in the whole wide world."

"Come on, Sammy, that's crazy."

"It's true. You're always taking care of me and stuff… I don't know anyone else whose big brother does that."

Dean felt a prickling sensation in his eyes. "Thanks, Sammy," he said quietly. "That means a lot to me."

"So that's it? You're not going to be mad at yourself anymore?"

"No," Dean said. "I guess I won't."

"Good," Sammy smiled and crawled across his bed towards Dean, giving him a hug. "Now let me go back to sleep."

"Good idea. I don't think dad will be too pleased if he sees us up this late…"

"Alright, Dean, good night. I love you."

"I love you too," Dean said and went back to his room. He crawled back into bed quietly, trying hard not to wake his father. Dean snuggled under his covers and fell asleep almost immediately after that. For once, he did not beat himself up over what had happened to Sammy.