Lately, I've been wondering if Sam knew what was going to happen. Maybe that explains why he found it so easy to give up. To let the devil take over, the look in his eyes, the moment when he shoved the devil down inside of him. That look could have fooled anyone else but me. It wasn't him coming to some sort of realization. That look was one that said that he knew and he had accepted long ago. In that moment, that brief moment, I hated my brother. I hated him so much. It was because he knew all along that it would always come down to this. He always knew.

Now, laying here this dark hotel room, the sound of my brother sleeping in the other bed I feel that hatred all over again. The only thing stronger than that hate is love. Corny as Hell I know, but I do love my little brother no matter how much I hate him.

"Hey, Sammy?"

"What Dean?" Sam's voice is groggy with sleep.

"You know I really do hate you."

"I love you too Dean now shut up and let me sleep."

I laugh a little and then slowly drift off to sleep.

"This is your little brother Dean," mom smiles at me as I sit in the chair pouting. "No matter what you have to protect him, okay?"

"But mom,"

"No but's Dean, Sam needs you look how small he is."

I awkwardly hold out my arms as mom puts Sam into my arms. He is so small and so breakable. His eyes part open and look up at me. They look just like my own.

"Hey, there Sammy," I smile down at him. At the sound of my voice his face lights up with a smile that looks like it's just for me. "It's me, your big brother." He yawns and then falls back asleep. "I love you Sammy."

Mom leans down and kisses me on the forehead.

"He loves you too Dean," she picks him up and cradles him in her arms. "No let him get his sleep.

"Come on Bud," Dad said his arm heavy on my shoulder. "Tomorrow's a big day and you need your sleep."

I awake with the taste of smoke on my tongue. Sam's sasquatchian form shaking my shoulders.

"Dean! Dean, wake up!"

"Sam, what is it?"

"I thought you where choking to death man."

"What?"

"You were coughing and making a weird noise."

"Just a dream."

"I don't want to know what kind of dream that was."

"Bitch," I smile at his innuendo.

"Jerk," He smiles right back at me and I am transported back to that day, the last day.

The last day when we were a happy family.