The last one. It's kinda short, but I just didn't want to drag it too much. The flow seems a little off to me, but hopefully it's not too bad. Sorry I didn't get a chance to reply to reviews, I wouldn't have been able to post this chapter (which has remained unfinished every since I started posting even though I kept saying I would finish it). I really appreciate them all and would love to hear your final opinion. I think I will post Deans POV, but it won't be for a week or two and it'll be a seperate thing.


"Standing still when it's do or die
You better run for your fucking life
It's not over 'till you're underground"

The moon's pale reflection wavered in the chilled fountain water. I dragged my finger through it and watched as it rippled then slowly came back together.

It was similar to the one from all those months ago, but this one wasn't a wreck and wasn't scarred with past terrors. The cold water surrounded my hand as I thrust it under the surface, completely destroying the reflection. It was calming, the likes of which I've only ever known with one other thing.

"Sam!" a voice called distantly. A voice that both saddened me and comforted me. It was Dean. And this was the moment. Once he found me, I would tell.

Emotion was gone. All of it, anger, fear, pride, it was gone. And in it's place was only weariness. This had gone on long enough. I'd be dead if I went on much longer. Despite everything, I didn't want that.

"Sam?" Dean called, closer now. I didn't move from my position, sitting on the edge of the fountain trailing my fingers through the water. "Sammy?" he couldn't have been more than ten or fifteen feet away. He certainly sounded relieved.

"What the hell was that, Sam? Do you know how freaked I was when I woke up and you were gone? You know better! How did I know you weren't kidnapped or eaten or…" he trailed off when I turned to look at him. I saw from the look in his eyes that this time he really saw. He saw the sickness of drugs in my face. "Sammy?" he looked frightened, and really who can blame him?

"It's bad, Dean, it's really bad," I said simply before turning back to the water. I traced a pretty little pattern over and over in the water and ignored the silence of Dean's shock.


"Maybe I should have died. You know, in that fountain when she tried to drown me. Maybe I should have died." There was a sharp intake of breath and suddenly there were hands on my shoulders, bodily turning me around so I was kneeling in the dirt facing my pale brother. For a moment we sat there, the mud soaking into our knees and wind blowing through our hair, until his hands moved to grip the sides of my face.

"Don't you ever, ever, say that. Not ever, Sam." I was pulled into a crushing embrace, the feeling of Dean's amulet digging into my cheek, that lasted longer than any hug between us ever had. "I couldn't," he swallowed thickly, "I couldn't go on without you, Sam." His voice breezed through my hair and tickled my forehead.

Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled out before I had enough time to even think about holding them back. Dean pushed me back by the shoulders and stared into my face, concern all over his face.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew. You wouldn't say that if you knew!" I cried. I dropped my head forward onto the nearest thing, which happened to be Dean's chest, and let it all out, the tears, the sobs, the emotion.

"Look, Sam, I got a couple ideas of what's going on here and, while I don't like any of them, none of them will ever change what I think of you. You could go full dark-side and go on a killing rampage and I'd still love you, little bro. Mind you, I'd probably have to take a swing at you, on principal, but-"

I laughed wetly. He looked into my eyes for a minute before I suddenly saw something click.

"It was the Vicodin, wasn't it?" I nodded. He closed his eyes for a minute before he opened them and gripped my shoulder a little tighter. "Oh, kiddo." What really surprised me, was the tears shining clear as day in Dean's eyes. That…that never happened. "This whole time?" he asked, sounding scared of the answer.

"Yeah," I whispered. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon and I wondered if Dad was even up yet. The sky was beautiful shades of pink and orange. I swallowed down all the emotion and doubt that was building up in my throat and started.

"After I hurt my knee, it was only prescription use, honestly. But then on Mom's birthday-" Guilt flashed through his eyes. "Dean…"

"No, Sam, it's inexcusable. We always get so focused on our own pain, I never really think much about what everyone else is feeling."

"It's not that I want you guys to ignore it – that would be like trying to erase Mom and that's not what I want – but I think we should spend time together at least. Remember what we do have. It's not the same for me as it is for you and Dad," I hated that my voice was starting to crack, "I don't have any memories to go off. I can't just focus on the good times because I don't remember any of them. She's just an idea, a dream, to me because I know nothing about her. She's my mom, yes, but she's also a stranger. And it's not fair."

He pulled me close and whispered, "I'm sorry," into my hair.

"No, it's not your fault."

"I always envied you because you didn't know her." I jerked back in surprise. "I know right? But for me it was like I had it all, the perfect life, then someone just came along and ripped the rug out from under me. And I envy you because you didn't have to know that pain, which, trust me, I'm glad that you didn't have to go through that, but…"

"Yeah." I paused for a minute before finally saying a thought that had always weighed heavily on me, something that felt like a sin just to think. "When I hunt, I'm not hunting for revenge against Mom. I can't because I don't know who she was. I'm hunting to get revenge for the loss of my life, for ruining the perfect life that I had for a few months. I know it's wrong…"

"What's wrong is that we never told you anything about her. A boy shouldn't grow up not knowing anything about his mom."

"You'll tell me one someday? You'll tell me a story about Mom?"

"Yeah," he said with a small smile as he pushed some hair out of my eyes, "I promise."

"Thank you." I looked down, trying to decide how to continue.

"But, Sam," he waited until I finally met his eyes, "you have to know that she loved you. You meant so much to her. She used to call us her perfect angels." He resituated so he was sitting next to me, leaning against the fountain and me leaning against his shoulder.

"I didn't use it to get high. Not at first. In the beginning it was just a way to calm down."

He snorted. "Yeah, I can see how that would have been nice." He looked thoughtful for a minute, like he was trying to remember something, then asked, "then what?" I decided to come clean. If I was gonna do this, I was gonna do this all the way. But, like ripping off the band-aid, I wanted to get it over quick. Spit it all out without having to continuously stop.

"Well next came Kris." Dean looked up immediately, eyes wide. "It started way before that, Dean," I said quickly not wanting him to think the first time I ever took drugs in an un-prescription way was when he kissed Kris. "I just…really liked her, you know? She was so wonderful. And then…"

"God, Sam, I'm so sorry."

"I just wanna know why," I pleaded.

"It wasn't anything important, it was just a spur of the movement, teenage-hormone overflow, kiss." He looked like he wanted badly to kick himself now that he knew the true effect it had on me.

"It-it's okay, Dean." And it was. Because really, what did one little kiss matter in the grand scheme of things?

"So what came next?" I decided my nighttime dream with Kris would be my secret to take to the grave. It was just one of those things.

"Well, I guess the next big thing was the party, which you know about. Well sort of. I think I might have accidentally overdosed -oh wait! There was a hold-up at a gas station where the dude trying to rob the place shot me in the arm because I was kinda high and couldn't keep my mouth shut." Dean's eyes bugged out and the color completely drained from his face.

"Overdosed? Shot? You were shot? How did I not find out about this?"

"I've gotten good at hiding things," I said, trying to joke, but I regretted instantly when Dean flinched. "And the overdose was an accident, I swear. Just a bad combination of drugs and alcohol. And I didn't realize how much stronger Percocet was."

Dean's knuckles were white as he gripped his thigh. "You're okay now? Physically?" He asked tersly. If I hadn't known better I would have said the guy wanted to give me a good shake. Actually, I do know and that's probably exactly what Dean wanted at that moment. There were so many emotions warring across his face.

"You're going to stop with drugs," Dean said, a statement not a question. "You're giving me gray hairs," he said with a light smile.

"Okay." I didn't grin in the slightest.

It was strange. I knew most drug addictions probably didn't end like that. But seeing Dean's face, and thinking about all the lies, and the guilt and the hundreds of hurt and concerned looks I'd seen on Dean's face over the months, not to mention listening to him say he thought someone had spiked my drink…I think part of me had known all along how wrong this was and part of me had wanted badly to stop. Turns out it took an accidental overdose, some suicidal thoughts and a mother-of-all fights with my brother to push me to do something. And the reassurance that my brother wasn't ashamed and wasn't gonna run the other direction, just knowing Dean was still there after everything…well that was better than any drug.

"Dean, it's gonna be hard…and I'm scared.

"Don't you worry, we'll get through this. I'm here, little bro." I'm here, little bro…the exact words from when I originally hurt my knee.

I knew at some point, some point soon, Dean was going to give me a hell of scolding, and there'd be a few serious talks and probably a handful of chick flick moments, but I'd work on that when it came time. As long as I had my Dean, I knew I'd be fine.

When had I forgotten that?

The End