Sam's reasons why

"Did you really want to die?"

"No one commits suicide because they want to die."

"Then why do they do it?"

"Because they want to stop the pain."

― Tiffanie DeBartolo, How to Kill a Rock Star

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Dean had been the one that found his brother's body lying on the floor of the small bathroom of Bobby's house, with his slit wrists and blood all over the floor. He could still see Sammy's pale skin whenever he closed his eyes, or remember the cold skin to the first touch, when he was trying to feel if he had a pulse.

"SAMMY? WAKE UP, DAMMIT!... BOBBY, I NEED SOME HELP HERE!" Yelled the elder Winchester, worried sick about his brother's life when he felt no pulse beneath his skin. He couldn't be…

NO.

It couldn't be possible. Not again.

He knew that the hallucinations of Lucifer were messing him up, and damn, he had witnessed it when he saw Sammy holding a gun in the middle of a warehouse, thinking he was with him, when the hard reality was that Lucifer was playing with his mind again. That had been the first time Dean had been aware of the severity of Sam's mental health state. It was bad. Like, real bad.

Bobby ran upstairs, recognizing the urgency in the elder Winchester's voice. He knew that something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what was going on though.

When he made it upstairs, he ran towards the only room that had the door open and the light on. Bobby was an old man, a hunter that had killed monsters and seen innocent people being killed in front of his own two eyes, however, he almost threw up when he saw the scene in front of him.

Sam, with his arms all bloody, trying to be revived by his big brother, who was now all bloody as well, and the younger hunter's body was as limp as a damn corpse. He had to be okay though, right? He was alive, cause that idjit could not be dead. It was not his time to go yet.

"BOBBY, CALL 911 NOW! SAMMY'S NOT BREATHING!" ordered the elder brother, as he tilted Sam's head back and gave him a breath of life, seeing how his chest expanded involuntarily as a result of it.

Blood kept coming out of the younger Winchester's deep wounds, so once Bobby ended the call and left the front door open for the doctors to enter without knocking, he knelt next to Sam's cold body to apply pressure on both arms with two old rags he had to clean the house occasionally.

Less than three minutes passed, and the ambulance was there. The doctors moved the two hunters, taking control of the situation. Dean didn't want to move, his big brother instinct coming out even through his pores, trying to prevent anyone from touching his little brother. He knew he needed help, so he eventually let himself be pushed away, however, he felt insecure of the whole situation. What if the doctors hurt Sammy in any way? What if they couldn't save him and he… And he would be alone for the rest of his life?

He stayed sitting on his brother's blood as Sammy was carried away in a stretcher. He was aware that he was in shock, but he couldn't move or reverse the situation. His body didn't respond to any stimulation. A single tear slid down his cheek, as he tried to imagine the possibility of living in a world without his little brother in it.

Two weeks passed, and the elder Winchester was drunk on the couch. Three empty beer bottles were lying down on the floor as he went for the fourth one on his right hand.

Sammy hadn't made it. He had died, because he left him alone when he knew he should have been with him 24/7.

He couldn't remember the last words he said to his little brother, or the last words his little brother said to him, however, he did remember he made his brother smile when he was feeling down. A true Sammy smile that he would never forget.

"You wanna eat something?" yelled Bobby from the kitchen

"No, Bobby. Thanks" answered Dean politely, knowing that pretending to be alright was the only way to be left alone. He needed to be alone, and most of that time, meant being drunk as well. He didn't remember the last time he had actually eaten something, but he couldn't care a less. Sammy was dead, and buried in a freaking cementery next to his mother. He was far from okay, but another gulp from a cold beer made him feel better.

When being drunk, everything mattered a little bit less than usual. It felt like being in a cloud of joy where the weight of the world got slightly lighter. He would go to bars and talk to some hot girls he would end up in bed with some days. Other days, he would do what Sam would do.

Taking long walks in the middle of the night, leaving the Impala parked in front of Bobby's house until his legs hurt, sometimes taking some beers with him to keep him company.

"You should eat something" suggested the elder man.

Dean was about to start arguing when someone knocked the door. The younger hunter was too tired to stand up, so Bobby decided to go, taking off his apron before heading towards the front door.

Dean waited patiently, until Bobby came back with a shoe box wrapped with a brown paper.

"Dean, I think this is for you" said Bobby, leaving the box next to him on the couch.

Dean stopped breathing for a second when he recognized Sam's handwriting on the brown paper. It said "DEAN W." on it. It was a package from Sam. How could that be possible?

When he opened the package, saw a bunch of tapes with numbers painted on them, probably with nail polish?

"What's this?" asked Bobby, clearly confused about the four cassettes lying in the box.

"I don't know, Bobby. But S- he never left a note to explain why he did what he did" said Dean, still not being able to say his brother's name aloud.

"Dear Dean and Bobby:

I'm sorry for what I've done. I truly am. He WON'T left me alone anymore. I am a grade A freak that can barely hold myself together, and with the leviathans walking on Earth now, you don't need another heavy bag on your shoulders.

I won't say that satan made me do it. I did this to myself, because I am weak, and a burden to the both of you. I hope my death will open new doors to you, eventually letting you move on through this battle you are facing. I would have been useless anyways. You knew it too.

I know that you are wondering what I you are reading this letter, you will know it soon. Several weeks ago, when I decided to... take my own life, I started to record these tapes that you recieved today. It's all been planed. Don't feel guilty for not seeing the signs. I know how to hide them from you, specially from you, Dean. I want you to have an apple pie life, the kind of life I could never have. Don't try to bring me back, cause you won't be able to do so this time. Just... live,okay? Don't do anything stupid, Dean. Promise me. I'll be there with you somehow, so you better promise me that.

I'm pretty sure there's nothing more to clarify. Please, forgive me. I love you both.

Sam W.-"

Dean finished reading the letter, feeling rage towards his little brother. How come he felt lika a burden? He would never be a burden. He was his little brother, and now, he was dead. The elder grabbed the first tape as he passed the letter to Bobby. He shook it and held it, feeling the weight of the words that the tape contained. He didn't feel like a drunk man anymore. He was Dean Winchester again.

"I think I'm gonna take baby for a road trip, Bobby. Don't wait up" said Dean

"Okay, son. Just... Be careful, and don't do anything stupid, you hear me, you idjit?" asked the elder hunter

"I'll be careful, Bobby. Don't worry" said the elder Winchester, taking the tapes along with him.

TBC...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! So, this story is really important to me. If you want me to continue it, please review :)