Disclaimer: I own nothing I tell ya, nothing!

A/N: Okay this is for the lovely CowboySteel (go check out her stuff she's really awesome! Obviously after you've read and reviewed!) She gave me this prompt so I hope I've done it justice!

I should probably tell you the prompt shouldn't I? LOL! It was Dean's thoughts after the last scene of "When The Leeve Breaks" so if you haven't seen it and don't want to be spoiled don't read!

Also a Massive shout out to InnocencexAndxsin who read over this! Thank you! (Check her stuff out too!)

So without further Ado, I present to you the story that had caused me much stress recently lol

OH! It has spoilers from the sason four finale so uh, don't want to be spoiled don't read! LOL

K

xox

Together We Stand. Divided We Fall.

"If You walk out of that door don't you ever come back."

Dean felt as though his head was going to explode, the thundering of his heart and the blood rushing through his veins makes it harder than ever to think straight. Its always like this when they go toe to toe; insults, voices raised so loud they couldn't hear what was being said over the other. Sometimes it got rough, pushing and shoving, hell once there were punches thrown. But Dean couldn't remember it ever being this bad. He doesn't remember things being thrown into duffle bags. He doesn't remember doors slamming THAT loudly. Hell, he doesn't remember the quiet.

"Sammy?" Dean whispers as he opens eyes that he doesn't remember closing. "Sammy?"

"Oh for fuck sake Dean he's gone. He walked out on us to go have some normal life. He doesn't want us." John snapped, his voice thick and heavy and something inside of Dean finally breaks. He isn't quite sure what it is that breaks, all he knows that it does and he feels empty. Well almost. It's like the feeling is slowly draining from him and taking his life force with it. He's gone. Dean let the words settle for a while, rattling around in his skull, his eyes never leaving the door that Sammy walked out of.

"Don't you dare," He can hear his father saying but Dean doesn't know what it is he's not to do. He's not to go after Sam? He's not to cry because his brother has left him? He's not to hurt? He's not to stand there like a fucking idiot as his entire world crashes down around him? So he stands there and waits for further instructions, like every other moment of his life. Waiting for someone to point him in the direction of what to do, or simply just tell him what it is the fuck he should be doing.

John's at the door now, putting the chain on, fixing the salt lines and Dean can see him move in his peripheral vision, he can hear the deep rumble of his dad's voice fill the empty space around him but he can not for the life of him make out what the words are. He can't hear anything except the rushing of blood to his head and now he knows he wants to scream or cry orboth that little voice inside of his head reminds him and that is when it hits him that that is what his father is telling him not to do. The tears have been there, in his bright green eyes for quiet some time now, his father had seen them before he even knew they were there.

Dean takes two steps forward and sways a little, the nausea building up in his gut, raw and viscous and Dean wants to hurl. Because right now, Sammy is out there, alone in the world, he's walking out of Dean's life and Dean did nothing to stop it. Didn't think he would go but he has, and now Dean is left alone because Sam was the only person who thought to ask how he was doing, how he was feeling more often than not, and not just because he had got pretty busted up during the hunt. No, Sam cared about him. Not that John didn't care, he just didn't show how much he cared and right now he was sitting back in the chair he was in before Sammy had walked into the room and announced that he had a full ride to Stanford and he wanted to go. John was in the same chair that he and Sam had started arguing in. The same chair that John had warned Sam in no uncertain terms that if he left for college he wasn't allowed to come back.

"Are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" Its John's voice again and it rough and harsh but Dean doesn't care because, no, he's not listening. His father just threw his little brother out of the house for wanting something more than this life. That's when it hits Dean. When the anger starts to slightly bubble in the pit of his stomach. He's angry at his dad. He's angry at Sammy. John had no right to throw Sam out, but if Sam didn't want to get away from his family John wouldn't have said it. So it's both their fault. Its both of their fault that Dean feels more lost and alone in this moment than he has in his entire life. And that fact says a lot because Dean's had it pretty tough. John's talking again and Dean looks at him with glazed over eyes and shakes his head before walking away over to one of the beds and lies down on his side, facing the wall and facing away from his dad, because John had made it clear that Dean wasn't to do this, that Sam was the one who betrayed the family and Dean wasn't to be weak about it. Dean was to be a man. He was to suck it up and deal with it like a man. he was to be angry with his kid brother for hurting him like that. Not succumb to the tears that were making tracks down his cheeks. Family meant everything to Dean Winchester and he knew if Sam was to walk back through that door it would be okay. He could forgive him for that. He would always forgive him for that. Dean's thoughts subsided as he slipped into a sleep, not a deep sleep, but a sleep that was able to take away the bitter pain of loneliness and rejection.

"S'mmy?" he roughed out, his throat sore and dry. "Sam." his voice was louder now, somehow harsher than it had previously been. Fuck that hurts. Dean grimaced and cleared his throat again, the bright lights of the room burning into his sensitive eyes as he slowly regained the feelings in his body, pain searing through his nerves and bones destroying the bliss of his sleep numbed muscles. It hits Dean then. The pain that isn't physical. The pain that's all too painful and recent but long ago at the same time.

He's Gone.

John's voice echoes through Dean's head and he wasn't event there to say anything. But it hurts like hell. well not exactly like hell. This, Dean thinks, this is worse. This hurts worse than hell. The room is quiet now. The debris from the fight still strewn all over the place and the door still firmly shut. Dean was still laying on the floor where Sam had left him. He is still laying in the same spot he valiantly fought off the pull of unconsciousness to deliver the one sentence that was sure to end badly.

If you walk out that door don't you ever come back.

And of course Sammy had walked. Walked right out of Dean's life because some crusade he had with some hell spawn. Just like that night all those many years ago when it was his dad that had uttered those words and not him. Dean groaned. A quiet sound that went as fast enough to cast a doubt on the suspicion that it has actually occurred. Another groan filled the empty space as Dean pushed himself into a sitting position. Dean let himself fall back onto his back again and just stared at the ceiling. His body finally doing what it was good at and shutting out the pain of his injuries, however not quiet used to, or able to for that matter, shut out the bitter pain and loneliness that caused a deep ache in his chest. He willed himself to fall back asleep, to be able to wake up and this all to be a dream, for Sammy to be right there, sleeping soundly in the next bed.

It makes you a monster.

Dean can still feel the punch Sam threw. He can still feel the bitter sting of it as it hit his jaw. He can feel the pain when Sam had looked at him and made him say it. When Sam made him look him in the eye and say those words. But its not Sam's pain he feels, its his own. Because, Sam is, in fact a monster. He knows he has all of this demon blood coursing through his veins and he's doing nothing to stop it. He's doing nothing to make sure he doesn't end up like something that they hunt. Dean would never disown Sammy as his little brother. Its just something that he would never do. Ever. Dean had been to hell and back for Sam. Both literally and metaphorically. He had been there through all of the big moments in Sam's life, he had watched him grow as a person, as a hunter, as his little brother. He wouldn't stand by and watch him grow as some demon though. That was simply out of the question.

He would be there for Sam as long as he wanted him there, that was the agreement when he was sitting on the hood of the Impala four years old, cradling his little brother and wondering what the fuck was going on. He promised Sam that he would be there for him as long as Sammy wanted him there and even beyond that. But right now? With Sam choosing some Demon Bitch over him? No, Dean wasn't just going to stand there and watch Sam throw his life away. He was a good kid.

Dean let out a shaky breath as he felt the tears sting his eyes. It was like that night all over again, but this time, This time, Dean was alone. His dad was gone. Sammy was gone. He was all alone again. Ever since Dean could remember he felt alone. Sam understood. Well, he tried to anyway. Hell, he tried more than dad ever thought of doing. Guess he didn't care enough to stay. The stinging of tears in his eyes didn't last long because soon the hot tears were burning a path down his sore and slightly swollen cheeks.

"Fuck." he croaked, Sam's fingers still tight around his throat as he wiped his eyes the best he can and pulls himself up into a sitting position once again. The room began to spin and Dean fought the urge to hurl. It wasn't the first time he was left on his own and he could cope very well. Not strictly true. The little voice in Dean's head pointed out and Dean just wanted the thing to shut the fuck up because seriously, he was ignoring the obvious, not wanting to face it cause right now he was pissed at Sam. Sam, his little brother who he had practically raised, had chose some demonic bitch over him? Did he seriously mean that little to Sam that he was easy to just leave lying there on the floor?

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face again as a fresh set of tears threatened to fall, No, he thought darkly, If I'm not worth Sammy's time and for him to stick around, He's not worth this. With a colossal effort Dean pushed himself to his feet and dusted himself down as best he could, considering the injuries. Fights like that didn't come often but when they did everyone walked away with more than just Physical injuries.

The street lights blurred into one blinding light as Dean sped through the busy city streets. He knew where he was heading. Of course he did. He was going where he always went when things felt as though they would fall apart. Ever since he could remember he would make the drive to that scrap yard, even if it was just for a beer and a friendly face that wasn't going to yell at him for every little thing or remind him that he messed up. He wouldn't be made to run until he puked here either. He could come and go as he pleased, eat good food, drink cold beer and do it all in peace. Well, if a whiny younger sibling complaining all the time was in peace, then yeah, Bobby's place gave him that.

Shit. It all comes back down to Sam. Dean let out a weary sigh and flipped the radio on only to flip it back off almost as quickly. His hand stayed on the dial though, maybe whatever God was up there was playing this stupid song for a reason. Maybe he just had to believe that Sam was doing what he thought was right.

Bull Shit.

Dean dropped his hand from the dial and tried to get his concentration back on the road where it was more than obviously needed. As soon as he hit the freeway he could switch off a little, drop down a gear, take time to get his emotions in check before arriving at Bobby's place. Well, let's face it, I can't exactly go in there and break down when I tell him that Sam's fucked off. Dean sighed again as he turned off onto the freeway, the lull of the song playing in his mind, the words playing over and over again, a slow torture that was slowly driving him insane.

"The road is long with many a winding turn that leads us who knows where who knows when." Dean tapped the steering wheel as he sang into the silence of the car. Sammy had done some fucked up shit in his life, but he was always going to be the long haired dork that Dean had grown up with. No matter how hard Dean tried to tell himself that he was going to let Sam go, because really it was Sam who walked out on him and not the other way around, he knew he wouldn't be able to do it. Cutting Sam out of his life would be cutting his right arm off with a butter knife. The pain of doing it seems like the worst pain of your life, then you realise you're slowly bleeding out, but what's more when you over come that, your next obstacle is to learn to function again without it.

Not that Dean had tried to cut his arm off with a butter knife but he imagined it would be something like that. And right now? He was thirty. Which was kinda old for a hunter. Bobby and a few of his dad's old contacts were the longest living one's he knew of. This was a lonely profession and you usually died pretty young. As it was, Dean was on borrowed time, some Angel had pulled him from the pit and had told him God wanted, no God needed him for this stupid prevention of the Apocalypse. Life was too short, and Dean wasn't ready to jump the gun and change his entire way of life just becuase Sam had made a piss poor decision to run off with some hell bitch. That's when the anger and the hurt reared its ugly head with a vengeance and it fucking hurt. More than he thought it would. More than he could handle to be fair. Dean swallowed the nauseating feeling and tried to concentrate on the road ahead and the whiskey that would be waiting for him at Bobby's.

Bobby was right. Dean knew Bobby was right. And that fact right there was the reason it hurt so much. There was a fucking apocalypse about to come crashing to planet earth and Dean wasn't sure if he could find it in him to care. Sure he wanted to save planet earth for the bunch of hell spawn. But the human race dying didn't bother him as much as he made out it did. Only a few members of the human race dying was the issue. Well, mainly two. Well three if you counted Ellen, and Jo wasn't a bad kid. And what the hell did it matter how many other fuckers were left on this planet after the A-bomb dropped? As long as Sammy was still alive and kicking, that's all that mattered. Demon Sam or Sammy, it really didn't matter as long as he was still breathing air.

Dean ran a hand over his face in the cold air of the night. He was stupid. He never should have said what he had to Sam and right now he would take it all back just to have Sammy fighting the good fight beside him. Well, not beside him right this second, because he was trapped in some magic box in heaven, or God knows where Cas had decided to take him. He needed to speak to Sam. That's what he needed to do. Yeah, I owe him a serious ass kicking but he has to be with me for me to be able to do that to him. Dean smiled sadly to himself as he fished his phone from his pocket.

Dean looked on and the ground continued to crack.

"I'm sorry." Sam was shell shocked and clutching on to Dean for dear life. Castiel had come through for Dean and here he was, watching Lucifer rise form the pit in the most astonishing fashion. The demon bitch was dead too. A demon was one of the bad guys, huh, would never have guessed that one. Dean couldn't take his eyes off the of the cracking floor.

"Sammy, come on."

"He's coming."

Sam's grip got tighter on Dean's jacket and Dean had to stop trying to get Sam out of the room simply because his little brother just didn't want to be moved. Dean wasn't sure if it was fear or awe that had Sammy rooted to the spot but he did know that he wasn't going to be moving the kid anytime soon. And right in that second Dean didn't care what had went on, all he cared about was Sam was alive, scared it seemed but alive nonetheless, and was here with him. Dean was content in the knowledge that they would fight this apocalypse together as he held on tighter to Sam and waited as the blinding light filled the room.

Its a long, long road from which there is no return, while we're on the way to there why not share and the load doesn't weight me down at all he aint heavy he's my brother.