Scared of Pennies…this one's for you!

Here is my challenge fic for the SFTCOL(AR)S episode tag challenge. I have to admit, this is my first challenge and I'm a bit nervous because of that. The prompt I chose was the Heart prompt in which I was challenged with this: Directly after the end of the episode, what happened? What did they do with the body? What were Sam and Dean thinking?

This is my response to those questions, and I really hope I did it some justice.

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So great was the extremity of his pain and anguish, that he did not only sigh but roar. –Matthew Henry

The gunshot was deafening.

The loud rapport of it caused Dean Winchester's ears to ring, but the pain of that was nothing compared to the pain he felt in his heart. Sammy—his Sammy—was just forced to shoot the woman he loved. The woman, if circumstances had been different, he could have had a future with. The woman who Dean could clearly see cared for his kid brother as much as Sam cared for her.

It wasn't fair; why was it Sam had to lose everything in his life? Why did Sam always have to be at the receiving end of every cosmic joke? Why couldn't Sam just have one good thing in his life, something he could look back at and be happy about? Why did Dean have to stand by and watch his brother, a man who would give the shirt off his back in a heartbeat, suffer and give up everything he cared about?

Dean would have given anything to be in Sam's position. He would have given anything and everything to shield Sam from this but this was something Sam had to do, not for himself, but for Madison. Dean was more than willing to take Sam's place, to protect Sam from more pain and suffering. The kid shouldn't have had to do this; he shouldn't be the one responsible for his girlfriend's death. Sam already felt responsible for Jess's death and this would only add to his anguish and misery.

The look Sam gave him before he walked into the living room broke the older Winchester. He felt as if someone took a newly sharpened knife and stabbed it into his gut and twisted it. The pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt before and only seemed to intensify with every tear that fell down Sam's cheeks. This wasn't pain he could take away by killing something, this was a pain he would have to deal with personally. He would have to be there for Sam, be his support system, be the rock Sam could depend on.

Dean became worried when Sam didn't come back into the kitchen. It had been two minutes since the gunshot went off and he'd not heard any other sound in all that time. He needed to get to Sam, to get them out of the apartment before the police came. It would only be a matter of time before they showed up because he was more than sure the gunshot had been heard by one if not several neighbors. Dean stubbornly wiped away the tears from his cheeks, because he couldn't afford to let Sam see him weak. He had to be strong for his brother, be there for Sam.

Walking into the living room, Dean felt his defenses threatening to weaken once again as he saw the huddled form of his brother on the floor beside Madison's body. The gun was still clutched firmly in his right hand while his left hand was brushing the hair from her face. Dean could see the sobs wracking Sam's body.

"Sammy?" Dean said softly, reaching out to touch Sam's shoulder.

Sam didn't say anything or even glance up at his brother as his sobs continued.

"Sammy, we need to get out of here."

Sam shook his head.

"Sam, the cops will be here soon. We need to go—now." Dean's voice came out harsh, but he couldn't help it. He needed Sam to listen to him, to get him away before the cops showed up. He knew what would happen when they showed up, seeing Sam clutching the gun. They would never believe their story about werewolves and Sam would do down for murder one. Dean couldn't let that happen to Sam.

Sam finally looked up at Dean and nodded. He slowly rose to his feet, the gun still clutched firmly in his hand.

"Let me have the gun, Sammy."

Sam looked at him, confused, and seemed surprised to find he was still holding onto it. He reached out hesitantly and allowed Dean to take it away from him, then looked down at Madison again. "She looks like she's sleeping." He sounded like a small child.

Dean tucked the gun into his waistband and put a hand on Sam's arm. "Let's get going, Sam."

Sam remained standing where he was as Dean pulled him and looked imploringly at his brother. "We can't leave her here, Dean…please."

There was that stabbing pain again, only this time it was accompanied by a hot, searing sensation. He could have handled anything, but Sam looking at him with tear-filled eyes, his voice cracking nearly done Dean in. He didn't know if he could do this, didn't know if he could be what Sam needed right now. "Sammy, I don't think—"

"Please, Dean, I'm begging you. We can't let anyone find her…we—I—owe this to her."

"How are we supposed to get her out of here, Sam?"

"We'll think of something…just, please," Sam begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dean let out a long sigh as he heard the sound of sirens approaching in the distance. "All right, but we've got to move…now."

Sam nodded and watched as Dean searched wildly around the apartment, looking for anything that may aid them. The older hunter dashed into the bedroom and came back with the white sheet from Madison's bed. "Help me get this over her. We'll go out the fire escape from the bedroom."

Sam took one end of the sheet from his brother and did as he was instructed. Within seconds, they had the sheet draped over her body. Dean bent down to pick her up but Sam stopped him. "I'll do it."

"Sam—"

"I'll do it, Dean." Sam's voice was hard.

Dean stepped back as Sam gently scooped Madison into his arms, taking extra care as if she were a delicate flower. He nodded to Dean and the light haired hunter led the way into the bedroom. He opened the window and stepping out into the cool night onto the metal fire escape, he waited and helped guide Sam out as he held tightly on to Madison. They made quick work getting down the staircase and Dean was thankful they parked the Impala at the back of the complex because they could avoid any detection from any curious neighbors.

Dean guided his brother to the black classic and opened the back door for him. Sam gently eased Madison inside and ran around to the other side so he could rest her head against his body. Dean was about to argue, but figured it would be better if he just let his brother be. Jumping into the driver's seat, Dean had the car gliding down the road just as the police and ambulance pulled to a stop.

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Sam felt completely numb all over.

It was the only way he could describe himself at that moment. He wasn't feeling anything—he wasn't sad, miserable, angry, broken. He just…was. The young hunter couldn't grasp his head around what he'd done. He'd just killed the woman he had feelings for, a woman he was willing to risk everything for. He still didn't know if what he'd done had been the right choice. There could have been other options, right?

At this point, Sam didn't know. He didn't know if there was anything else he could have done for Madison. He could keep telling himself he could have found a way to help her, but Dean was right…there was nothing they could do for her. They could have kept her locked up for those few nights a month, but again, Dean was right when he said eventually it wouldn't work anymore. They were at a dead end street and Madison asked Sam to do the one thing to release her from her sentence, to allow her to be free.

Sam was still playing the scene in his head over and over as if it were a movie on continuous play. He saw himself taking the gun from Dean and giving his brother one last pleading look before he walked into the living room. He saw Madison standing there, waiting for him, her face expressionless. He saw himself raising the gun up towards her chest, could feel his finger tightening on the trigger. He could feel the hesitation racing through his body as his mind tried to come up with another, more reasonable solution. He saw Madison nodding, a small smile on her lips as the tears fell down her cheeks. He felt his eyes close and then open as the gunshot went off, startling him. He saw Madison, even in death, fall gracefully to the ground and he saw himself drop to his knees next her, willing himself to wake up from the nightmare that had just transpired.

But Sam knew it wasn't a nightmare. He knew he wouldn't wake up from this and everything would be as it was. He knew he wouldn't wake up and Madison would be sleeping peacefully in his arms. This was reality, Sam just did the unthinkable. He knew there would be no turning back from that no matter what the reasoning behind it was.

He felt as if he didn't have anything left inside him. His heart felt as if it had been ripped from his chest and there was nothing but a cold feeling of dread inside. He didn't know how he was supposed to get past this, move on. It wasn't something he could get over, something he could brush under the rug and pretend never happened. He wasn't willing to do that, not to Madison, not to her memory. He couldn't just erase her like that, she deserved so much better.

He never heard Dean come into the room, barely felt the hand on his shoulder, providing warmth and comfort. He barely heard Dean's voice as his brother told him they needed to go, he just felt the sobs continue to wreak havoc on his body. Why couldn't Dean understand he needed to stay there, keep Madison safe? Why was Dean wanting him to leave her? Didn't he understand what Sam just did?

Sam looked up in shock as Dean's harsh voice once again told him they needed to leave. Sam nodded and slowly got to his feet, though he had no idea how he was capable of doing that simple act. Dean held out his hand and it was then Sam realized he was still tightly clutching the gun in his right hand. He felt as if he was relieved of a heavy weight as Dean took the gun away from him. Sam looked down at Madison and couldn't stop the tears that continued to fall. "She looks like she's sleeping." He knew he sounded weak, like a small child, but it didn't bother him.

He felt Dean begin to tug on his arm and tell him once again they needed to go. Sam couldn't leave yet; he couldn't leave Madison there by herself. She looked so cold and the thought of her being alone scared him to death. "We can't leave her here, Dean…please."

Sam saw the torrent of emotions flashing through his brother's eyes—fear, anger, remorse. "Sammy, I don't think—"

The younger Winchester couldn't help but beg; he needed Dean to listen to him, to do this for him. "Please, Dean, I'm begging you. We can't let anyone find her…we—I—owe this to her."

"How are we supposed to get her out of here, Sam?"

"We'll think of something…just, please." Sam's voice was barely above a whisper.

He heard Dean let out a long sigh just as sirens pierced the quiet night. "All right, but we've got to move…now."

Sam nodded, relief washing through him. He would have agreed to anything at that point as long as he knew Madison wouldn't be left there. He watched as Dean rushed around the apartment, his eyes searching for something. His brother went into the bedroom and emerged a few seconds later with the white sheet from the bed. "Help me get this over her. We'll go out the fire escape from the bedroom."

Sam said nothing as he took one end of the sheet from Dean and draped it carefully over Madison. He felt a stab of fear as Dean bent down to pick her up and Sam stopped him before he could lift her up. "I'll do it."

"Sammy—"

"I'll do it, Dean." Sam didn't mean for his voice to sound so hard, but he wasn't about to let Dean pick her up. Sam had to do this, he had to take care of her, protect her, keep her warm. He gently scooped her up in his arms, taking extra care, and followed his brother into the bedroom. Sam tried not to let the room affect him, remind him of what he'd lost. He walked to the exit as fast as he could, before his emotions could succeed in drowning him.

He hurried down the stairs after Dean and dashed to the Impala. Dean held the back door open for him and he slid Madison's body gently inside. Closing the door, he ran to the other side so he could sit beside her. He just couldn't bear to leave her back there alone. He saw Dean wanted to argue with him and let out a relieved sigh when Dean decided against it. Sam softly cradled Madison's upper body against his chest, holding her tightly against him as Dean started the car and pulled away.

Sam started to rock her gently back and forth and didn't miss the concerned glance Dean shot him in the mirror. "Sammy, what do you want to do?"

Sam shook his head, not entirely sure what it was he wanted to do. He hadn't given it much thought, just knew he had to get Madison out of there. "I don't know, Dean. I couldn't leave her."

Dean nodded understandingly and focused his eyes once again on the road. "You know what we need to do, Sammy."

Sam knew what his brother was saying and he knew Dean was right. "I know, Dean. Just drive."

Dean didn't say anything else as he drove out of the city limits. After thirty minutes, Dean pulled off the main highway onto a tiny stretch of dirt road and continued on for another mile or so before he brought the car to a stop. He cut the engine and sat back in his seat, keeping his gaze out the window. "How is this?" he asked softly.

Sam looked up from Madison and out the window and was surprised by the sight that greeted him. They were parked along the edge of a cliff, overlooking the scenic San Francisco Bay. He could just make out the city skyline along with the majestic Golden Gate Bridge in the distance and the dark sky above was illuminated by millions of stars and a full moon. If they were there under different circumstances, Sam would have felt calmed and relaxed by the beauty and atmosphere. "It's perfect, Dean. I think she would have liked it."

Dean nodded and pushed his door open, the interior light casting Sam and Madison in a soft glow. Sam listened as his brother opened the trunk and lift the secret compartment that housed all of their supplies. He heard Dean rummage around for what they would need and then the loud squeak of the trunk as it was closed. It was a couple of minutes later when Dean opened Sam's door and stood there, studying him. "You ready?"

Sam nodded slowly and eased Madison onto the seat as he slipped out of the car. Reaching in, he gently pulled her into his arms and carried her to a spot Dean had laid down a blanket on the grass. He carefully put her down and stepped back as his eyes once again began to well up with tears. "Okay."

Dean stepped forward, grabbing the salt canister from his bag and twisted the top off. Before he could begin to sprinkle it over Madison's body, Sam grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Sam, we need to do this."

"No, Dean…" Sam choked back a sob. "I need to do this."

"Sammy, you don't have to do this alone."

"Please, Dean, let me do this."

Dean's eyes flashed angrily as he shoved the canister at Sam's chest. He threw the duffel bag at down at his brother's feet and turned away. Sam thought Dean was going to leave him there, but Dean turned around and shoved his finger in Sam's chest. "Dammit, Sam! You don't have to do this alone! Let me help you!"

"Dean, I—"

"You what, Sam? Don't give me that crap you have to do this by yourself, because you don't. I'm not going to let you. You shouldn't have to shoulder this burden by yourself. You shouldn't have to be alone in this."

"Dean, I didn't mean—"

Dean didn't let him finish. "You're not alone in this, Sammy…I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. Let me help you with this…please."

Sam swallowed down the lump in his throat as he saw the hurt in his brother's green eyes. He didn't want Dean to feel like he wasn't wanted, wasn't needed. He knew Dean would always be there for him, to give him a hand when he needed it. And he knew how much it was hurting Dean to see Sam suffer like this. He knew Dean would do anything to take that pain and suffering away.

Finally, Sam nodded. "I know I'm not alone, Dean…I never doubted that for a second."

"Then let me help you, Sammy."

"Yeah," Sam whispered. He handed the canister to Dean once again and watched as his brother sprinkled liberal amounts of salt all over Madison's body. Dean then reached into the duffel and grabbed a small bottle of lighter fluid. He popped the top and squirted the accelerant over and around Madison. Tossing the bottle to the side, Dean dug into his pocket and pulled out a small box of matches.

Dean looked over at Sam to see his younger brother was staring at Madison, a lost expression on his face. "Do you want to do it or do you want me to do it?"

Sam took a deep breath and glanced up at Dean. His brother was holding out the matches towards him. Sam gently took them from Dean's grasp and stepped closer to Madison. "I never wanted this for you, Maddie…you didn't deserve this. I just hope now you can find that peace you wanted…You made me happy, which is something I haven't been for a long time and it's something I'll never forget."

Sam took another deep breath and wiped at his face. "There is so much I wanted to say to you, share with you and now, I'll never get that chance. I just hope you can forgive me…I love you, Madison." Sam took several matches from the box and ignited them. "Rest in peace, Maddie." He threw the matches onto her body and watched as it was engulfed in flames.

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They got back to their motel room two hours later. Sam barely uttered a word on the ride back and it had Dean worried. He knew his brother closed himself off when he became hurt emotionally, but Dean didn't feel now was the time to do that. Sam needed to talk, he needed to open up and not shut himself off from the world. He would only succeed in self-destruction and Dean wasn't willing to let that happen, to sit back and watch as Sam dwindled away.

Dean also knew he wasn't an easy person to open up to, but he could be that for Sam. It surprised the older hunter what he was capable of when it came to taking care of his kid brother, what he could do. If Sam needed to talk this out, Dean would listen. He would offer guidance and be the strength Sam needed to get through this.

Dean looked over where his brother was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He'd finally stopped crying an hour ago, though every now and then, Dean heard a sob escape from his lips. "Sam, listen…I know you probably don't want to talk about this, but I think it would be good for you."

"I can't, Dean…not yet."

"Normally, I wouldn't push you on this, Sammy, and maybe I'm being selfish here, but I can't stand to see you like this." Dean turned around on his own bed, facing Sam. "I know how much she meant to you, Sam, and I am so sorry you had to go through this. I would give everything to be able to take away the last few hours for you. I wish I could snap my fingers and let this be nothing more than a horrible nightmare for you."

"You can't do that, Dean."

"I know that, Sammy, and I'm not going to pretend that I can. I want you to know that I'm here for you…anything you need."

Sam finally looked over at Dean, a small smile on his face. "I know you are, Dean, and I appreciate that. It means more to me right now than anything. But I just need some time, think things through before I'm ready to talk about it. I need you to be patient with me, let me do this on my own time."

"I'll give you the space you need, Sam, but you need to realize something, too. This is not something you're going to get over in a week…it's going to take a long time. And even then, you'll never be quite over it. I just don't want it to get to be too much for you, where you feel obligated to talk to me. You can't go around here carrying this weight by yourself…it will only break you down until there is nothing left. All I ask is that you not let that happen."

"I won't, Dean. You have nothing to worry about."

"Are you kidding? This is you, Sammy…I'll always have something to worry about."

Sam let out a soft chuckle. "Thank you."

Dean nodded and hit Sam's mattress. "So, I've been thinking."

"That can't be good."

Dean smiled. "There's the Sammy I know and love. But seriously…we're not too far away from L.A. What do you say we head on over, act like tourists for once?"

"You mean, take a vacation?" Disbelief was evident in Sam's voice.

"Why not? We deserve to kick back a little," Dean argued. "Besides, I think it may do you some good."

Sam considered Dean's offer for a few moments and finally nodded. "Sure, Dean, that sounds great." He let out a long sigh and raised himself up from the bed. "I think I'm going to hit the shower."

"You know, I was just about to suggest you do that."

"Bite me." There was no malice in Sam's voice. He flashed one more small, grateful smile in Dean's direction, grabbed his clothes from his duffel and went into the bathroom. A few seconds later, Dean heard the steady sound of running water.

Staring at the closed bathroom door, Dean knew it was going to take Sam some time. Sam was broken, there just wasn't any other way to put it. He was worried for his kid brother, more than he was letting on, but again, he couldn't let Sam see that weakness. He needed to be Sam's rock, his guiding force, bring him back from the edge. He knew it was going to be a long road, but he would be there for Sam, until the very end.

There was too much loss in the world and Dean Winchester would be damned if he let his little brother succumb to that loss.