Author: Mousitsa

Disclaimer: You know the drill, blah blah blah... I don't own them, just play with them occasionally when my muse isn't on vacation because they have so many wonderful emotional and psychological issues to play with. Instead, Supernatural owns ME heart, mind and soul!

A/N: WARNING: story contains possible SPOILERS for season 2 finale!!! Ever since some of the big spoilers broke for the finale, all the spoiler fanatics have been speculating like crazy about every possible detail and scenario. Well, this is one of those possible scenarios, written in response to some ideas and inspiration provided by some of my fellow spoiler freaks over on the CW Boards. Again, not based on what might actually happen, only a speculation of what "may" happen. Oh, and get the Kleenex ready... you might need it!

STOP NOW IF YOU DON'T LIKE SPOILERS... ESPECIALLY FOR SEASON 2 FINALE. Otherwise, I'd love to see your reviews.

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS

Dean and Bobby spent the better part of the week following every possible clue to find Sam, and Dean spent most of the week outwardly angry in a desperate attempt to cover his growing uneasiness and fear. He couldn't believe that Sam had run off again … he was sure that Sam had learned his lesson after their last encounter with Gordon and he couldn't really blame him for his latest disappearance while possessed. Little did he know that this time Sam had actually been taken. He tried to put on his best game face for Bobby to cover for his growing worry and fear. "You know what, Bobby? When we find him, I swear I'm gonna kick his sorry little ass for taking off again!" Unable to relax, unable to sleep, unable to get all the worst-case scenarios out of his head, Dean was simply exhausted by the end of the week.

But all clues finally led them to these remote woods. The biting cold of the night and the growing cloud of fog were doing their part to contribute to the horror-movie experience that had become their life for the past six days. As they entered an area of clearing, two shadows could be seen in the ethereal darkness, their voices growing ever louder as they argued. In a sigh of utter relief, Dean easily recognized the familiar voice of his little brother as he quickly moved towards them, preparing to lend a supporting hand to make sure the direction of this argument leaned in Sam's favor.

But the shouts continued, turning into pushing, then a scuffle, and to Dean's horror he saw an outline of the second figure, silhouetted against the moonlight, raising an arm and plunging a knife into his brother's back -- twice! Instinct took over in a split second as Dean quickly drew his gun, aimed and pulled the trigger, the bullet finding its mark as the figure fell dead. He didn't care to take time to find out who this mysterious figure was or why he did what he did. The only thing that mattered at the moment was that he had hurt his brother -- and nobody gets away with that. Like an Olympic sprinter running the 100-meter race in record time, he ran and kneeled where Sam lay face down on the ground, a growing circle of crimson on his back now overtaking the blue and white striped shirt.

Panic began to take over his every logical thought accompanied by a strange coldness across his body and a sensation of falling grabbed hold of his stomach as his eyes widened in disbelief. "… Sam!… oh God… no… !" They had been in dangerous situations before, and they had even gotten the crap beat out of them a few times, but they were never before in a situation where Sam lay there bleeding, motionless, possibly... No, no, no... can't think like this!

He gently rolled Sam onto his lap, encircling his brother's broad shoulders with both arms and cradling Sam's head against his chest. The fingers of his right hand disappeared into waves of brown tangles. Sam's face was already wet with tears. Dean could feel the warm blood seep from Sam's back and through into his jeans as Sam struggled for every shallow breath. The knife must have hit a lung. Sam, barely aware, could feel from the erratic movement of Dean's chest against his face that his brother's breathing was rapid, shallow, and panicked. His heartbeat fast and loud, resonating in Sam's ear like a bass drum. But, as usual, Dean remained determined to control his emotions, his face remained stoic.

"Sammy, come on open your eyes!"

Sam forced his eyes open as tears continued to roll down his cheeks, his voice barely audible, "Dea.. Dean.."

"Don't try to talk Sammy. Just hang on!" His embrace tightened, pulling Sam in even closer, desperate for this action to guarantee that his little brother wouldn't leave him.

"I'm not gonna make it, Dean." Sam whispered.

"Don't you dare say that, you hear me! Not after all this!" Dean's breathing continued unevenly, his lower lip quivering even more. The tears welling up in his eyes, and still refusing to fall, distorted the view as if he were opening his eyes underwater.

Sam was determined to hang on long enough to say a few last words to Dean. As difficult as it was to talk, he was going to make his peace. "Dean... you're the best brother a guy could ever ask for…"

"Sam, stop it! You're going to be fine!" The determination of the words could not cover for the quiver and break in his voice.

"No Dean, I'm not... I'm so sorry I screwed up your life."

"Sammy, come on. Don't do this! ... please, just hang on..."

"Promise me…" Dean's eyes widened in shock. Oh God, not another promise. Please don't ask me to make another promise. Sam looked up at him with those big, hazel, puppy-dog eyes that he could never say no to. "... that no matter what, you'll keep going... keep fighting..."

Who says that I want to? "Sammy, please, I'm begging you..." As the tears welled up in his eyes even more, each lonely tear now took its turn cascading down his cheeks when it could no longer be held back.

Sam struggled for every breath as his body trembled, perhaps from the cold of the night or from the coldness overtaking him as his life slowly slipped away. With every last bit of strength he had, he lifted his right arm and hugged at his brother's waist. He choked through his words, as breathing became ever more difficult. "I know you did your best to protect me... thanks ... for everything... "

"And I'm gonna keep protecting you, ok? but you gotta fight!" Nothing else matters.

"Dean, I'm... I'm sorry." Letting out one last tiny breath, Sam closed his eyes and fell limp into Dean's trembling arms.

"... no ... ," Dean's voice trembled and he tightened his hold, his body taut in shock, eyes wide and mouth open, as he took a sharp inhale and held it, frozen, unable to breathe out. This can't be happening! It isn't happening! Somebody, please just wake me up! Numbness overcame him and an overwhelming despair made him unable to react, unable to move. How the hell am I supposed to bury my baby brother?! Dean held his brother tight, certain that he could not, would not, did not want to ever let go. The floodgate of tears had been sprung open and for the first time this hunter, this man, this brother cried uncontrollably in excruciating, unbridled pain and emotion, holding tightly in his arms the one person most precious in his life... who was now no longer there.

END

A/N: I love the boys too much to ever actually write a death fic, but this was in response to the big finale spoilers that just leaked. So the spoilers say that Sam "dies" in Dean's arm at the end of "All Hell Breaks Loose, Part I". And I'm extremely curious to see how he will be resurrected in Part II and still maintain an air of believability, even though this IS "Supernatural!" Yes, the anticipation during this next month will be sheer torture!! Thanks for reading!!