Disclaimer: Not mine.

This is not a death fic. I promise you.

So…I need prompts. Lots and lots of prompts. Please help! lol

Sam and Dean had been fighting for days. Dean wouldn't speak to Sam and Sam wouldn't speak to Dean. There was nothing to say. Sam had released Lucifer only a few short weeks ago and both brothers were on edge. Sam despised himself and he could tell Dean hated him too.

When Dean did look at Sam all Sam could see was hatred in his hazel eyes. Hatred mixed with fear. Dean feared Sam and Sam understood. Sam would not deny that he was a monster. He drank demon blood and chose said demon over his own brother. That was a monster in his book.

Self loathing ate through Sam night and day. As he and Dean fought more and more, Sam hated himself more and more. Hated his life more and more. Wanted it to end more and more.

Sam had tried to end his life, unbeknown to Dean a week before. He sat in the bathroom of the small, dirty motel they had been holed up in, a loaded gun pressed underneath his chin. Dean had left an hour earlier without a word, likely to go hustle some pool and Sam knew he would not be back for the rest of the night. Sam saw that moment as the perfect opportunity to rid Dean of his monster of a little brother once and for all. He couldn't do it though. He was terrified and had dropped the gun, curling in on himself, sobbing his heart out. He regretted that weakness a week later as he once again stood alone in a run down motel room, still reeling from an argument with Dean.

A few hours before Sam and Dean had had a major blowout that had led Sam to this current breaking point.

"Dean, please." Sam had pleaded. "Just talk to me, man. Say anything."

Dean had been ignoring Sam for hours and Sam couldn't take it anymore. He was regretting his decision to not take his own life a week before more with very passing second. Tears in his eyes, Sam begged his brother to speak to him.

"You want me to say something, Sam?" Dean growled, his eyes on the road as the Impala sped way past the limit. Shooting a hateful glare at his brother Dean finally spoke. "Fine. I'm pissed Sam. I'm pissed and tired. I don't even know you anymore. You chose a demon over me and look where we are now!" Dean was yelling now. Sam flinched away into the passenger side door.

"You chose a demon over me, Sam! And look! Now we have to deal with the Apocalypse because of your stupid mistake. You're pathetic and honestly, you are not the brother I once knew. I wish I would have just let the Angels smite you when I had a chance. Then I wouldn't have to deal with you anymore."

Sam had simply nodded. His heart shattering into a million tiny pieces. Dean had fallen silent, not speaking another word for hours.

Around five at night, Dean had pulled into a crappy motel and kicked Sam out of the car without a word. He sped away leaving Sam isolated and forlorn in front of the dilapidated motel office. Sam had made up his mind already. He knew what needed to be done.

Paying for a room, Sam unlocked the creaky door and stepped inside. Creepy critters scurried across the counter of the small kitchenette, running to escape as Sam flicked on the lights.

Sam didn't even notice. He had to be quick about this, before he chickened out again.

Locking the door behind him, Sam dropped his duffel bag on the floor, ruffling around inside for the object he needed. His hands found purchase on the smooth metal of the gun. A sob escaped his lips as he pulled out the gun and crossed the dusty carpet, heading for the bathroom.

The smell of mold and cigarette smoke assaulted him as he pushed open the thin wooden door. He didn't notice the state of the bathroom though as he shut and locked the door.

Curling up in the dirty tile floor Sam felt sobs shaking his body. He was scared but he wouldn't change his mind. He had to do this for Dean.

Pressing the gun to the underside of his throat, Sam's sobs grew louder but his resolve didn't flicker. He felt a morbid sense of pride in himself at his ability to do this.

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Sam pressed the gun deeper into his skin and pulled the trigger.

There was no loud boom, no pain, nothing at all. Sam let out a shaky breath. It must have been a dud. He pulled the trigger again. Nothing.

Sam let out a strangled yell and pulled the trigger three more times. Nothing. Nothing at all.

Collapsing onto the moldy tile, the gun still clutched in his hand, Sam sobbed deeply, hovering near hyperventilation.

Why can't it just end?

After a few minutes, the sobbing stopped and silent tears flowed from Sam's closed eyes as he lay with his face pressed against the tile. His arm lay stretched out in front of him, the worthless gun still clutched in his hand.

Sam didn't hear anyone approaching, didn't hear the door open but someone was suddenly there.

Gentle fingers appeared, prying the cool metal out of his hand. He didn't look up, didn't open his eyes. He didn't know who it was that was taking the gun away from him but he couldn't bring himself to care. He just wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

The gun was out of his hands and the gentle hands were now on his forehead, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his closed eyes.

"Sam." Castiel's voice whispered. "Open your eyes."

Sam shook his head, not speaking. He didn't want to open his eyes. He just wanted to die and that didn't seem to be happening. Shivers ran down his spine and more tears began to leak from his closed eyelids. Anguish encompassed him. He was still alive and he couldn't stand it.

Castiel's hand gently rubbed Sam's back, as if he was giving Sam the time he needed to compose himself. Sam slowly opened his foggy eyes to see the angel kneeling beside Sam's trembling body, still soothingly rubbing Sam's back. Castiel's light blue eyes studied Sam with compassion. A small, concerned smile graced Castiel's face as he continued comforting the heartbroken man on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Sam rasped.

Castiel smiled lightly. "It is not your time, Sam Winchester."

Sam's eyes widened as he understood. "You did this?" He whispered, tears still running. "I just want it to end. Why did you stop it?"

Castiel's hand left Sam's back and he lifted Sam's limp form off of the floor and propped him against the peeling wallpaper. Castiel grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter and gently dabbed at Sam's eyes and cheeks. Sam didn't have the strength to push him away.

"It is not your time." Castiel repeated.

"Says who?" Sam growled angrily. It wasn't his time? That was a load of bull. He was a monster and a burden to the only family he had left. Of course it was his time.

"Says me." Castiel alleged firmly.

"You're wrong." Sam muttered, closing his eyes again. "It's over for me. I have to do this for Dean." He was exhausted and his words were slurring. He just wanted to sleep.

Castiel shook Sam gently. "Stay awake." He ordered. Sam sighed, opening his blurry eyes to meet Castiel's firm gaze.

"Do you believe that killing yourself will ameliorate Dean's life?"

Sam looked away and nodded. "I have caused him so much pain and he even said that he wished he would have let you guys smite me when he had the chance. I don't know about you but that seems like he would be better off without me."

Castiel gripped Sam's face in his hands. "He did not mean what he said. I can assure you. He may seem mad now but for you to take your life would have been the last straw for Dean. He would blame himself and subsequently would have faced off with a demon, heartbroken, and gotten himself killed."

Sam's eyes widened at the thought of Dean getting himself killed because Sam was stupid enough to commit suicide. His entire body began to tremble and bile rose in his throat.

Instantly, Castiel had helped Sam over to the toilet and gently held Sam's hair back while he retched. Sam could hear him murmuring soft words of comfort as Sam continued to heave until blood came up.

When he became to weak to heave and too weak to hold himself up, Castiel lightly pulled Sam away from the toilet and helped him rinse his mouth out at the sink. Unable to hold his own weight anymore Sam's legs gave out. Castiel caught him and, cradling Sam in his arms, he carried the broken man out of the bathroom and laid him on one of the beds in the main room.

"Do you believe me now?" Castiel whispered, pulling a blanket up to Sam's chin and laying down beside the trembling Sam.

Sam nodded, rolling over and curling up against the angel as Castiel placed his arms around Sam. "Thank you." He whispered, barely making a sound, his eyes closing.

"You are most welcome." Castiel replied, holding Sam as the young man fell asleep.


And if you have an idea for a good Sastiel or Limp!Sam, let a girl know! lol