A/N: Hi everyone!

It's been way too long since I've written anything Supernatural, so I decided to look up some writing prompts and write a few to try and get back into the swing of it :) This is the first, and the prompt was 'Damn you to...'

I'm painfully aware that this is not great, but I'm rusty ok! Haha Anyway, feedback would be great, if you've got two secs, because I'd love to know what people think before I attempt a new prompt :)

I have in no forgotten about Things that go Bump in the Night, but like I said, I've kind of fallen out of writing SPN, but I have been working on the next chapter, so I'll get that up ASAP :D

So yeah, let me know what you think!

Thank you!

xoloveJBox

Damn you.

That was all Lena Winchester could think as she pulled her oldest brother's lifeless form into her arms, rocking him gently, as if he was simply sleeping. She wished more than anything that she could even pretend that he was just asleep, but the deep, vicious wounds slashed across his chest kept her wishful thinking at bay.

Sam was pacing the room, quietly sobbing, but Lena felt too numb to cry. For weeks now, she'd been slowly chiselling away the pieces of her heart that belonged to Dean until there was barely any of it left. She wished she could say that it had made a difference, that it didn't hurt so much now, but if she did it would be a lie. Instead, she found that she could barely move her body, sitting with Dean's head in her lap, carding her fingers subconsciously through his hair, the way he'd always done for her when she was sick or hurt. She knew this was different, that no amount of comfort and caring was going to change the scene in front of her, but she had absolutely no clue what else to do, and she would be damned it she was going to sit and do nothing while they waited for Bobby.

It seemed to take forever for the older man to arrive. She pretended not to see the way that Bobby had to leave the room and come back again after seeing the three of them, not quite holding back the choked, angry sob that bit at the back of his throat.

Lena knew she really must have shut off, because the next thing she knew, she was up and striding firmly into the kitchen. She started filling a bowl with warm water, and it seemed to take an eternity to fill. Then she turned off the faucet and went out to the car-Dean's car- and grabbed Dean's duffel bag.

Sam had to leave the room while Lena started to clean up their brother, but there was no way Lena could leave him like that. She cut away his shirt and gently washed away all the blood before putting on a new one. When Sam realised what she was doing, he came over to help, but Lena found that she did most it anyway, since Sam could barely look at his big brother. It was only when she was done, and Sam and Bobby were carrying Dean out to the car that her hands started to shake uncontrollably.

For a moment, her mind started to spin with questions; where would they take Dean? Would they bury him, or give him a hunter's funeral? But she soon pushed the thoughts from her head, realising that knowing the answers wasn't going to stop her world from shattering the way it was.

As they started to drive away, Lena was suddenly enveloped with rage; at Jake, for killing Sam and leading Dean to drastic measures, at Dean for making the deal in the first place, at their father for giving Dean the idea to sell his soul in exchange for his brother's life, at Ruby for dangling hope that there was something they could do in front of Sam and then snatching it away from him. And most of all at herself, for not finding a way to save one brother without condemning the other. A small voice, almost drowned out by the hollow screaming she was choosing the keep in her mind rather than let out into the world, told her that it wasn't entirely her fault; that Dean had stopped her from looking out of fear of the repercussions for Sam. She was mad about that too.

Damn you to hell.

But then, Lena thought, you did that all by yourself, didn't you Dean?