Memory Poison
"Now we're talking!" Dean exclaimed banging his fists on the table. It had been a long few weeks since, well there really was no explanation. After all their whole life was Russian Roulette. Shrugging he pushed the chair back and downed a beer. At least he could tease Sam and shut him up about not helping with the research. I mean, come on, even a monkey could do it. Dean faltered in the library doorway, did he just call himself a monkey. No way and no matter. Echoes filled the corridor as he shot down the length shouting out, "Sammy! Sammy ya home!" Knocking he flung open the door grinning like an idiot only to be shocked black as pitch.
Dang did it stink! Cloths were flung haphazardly about nestled between empty wrappers. On the shagged carpet back against the olive wall staring sunken at the void. Sam's posture was all defeat his eyes numb and hands clinging to a beer. Five empties lie shattered on the carpet at his right side. Dean curled his fingers around the door frame taking a tentative step forward, "Sammy? What is wrong? Are you hurt? Did something…" Sam's eyes whipped around freezing him in his tracks. The depth of sorrow in them was frighteningly consuming.
"Get out Dean, now." Iron slicked words and white knuckles sent a message. Dean reached out a gentle hand aiming for the bangs which covered his emotionless eyes. Boney fingers gripped his wrist and threw him back while hopeless eyes glared him down. Dean scooted out of the way as Sam stood to his full height a tree of hopeless fury, "I told you to get the hell out Dean!" Yelping Dean scrambled and stood on the other side as Sam's beer shattered on the threshold.
"What is the matter with you! Come on…I am just trying to help you!"
Sam laughed while sliding down the wall tears cascading down his face, "You help me? The screwup little brother?"
"We have both made mistakes, but your my brother Sam I will always be here to help you. So, stop being a petulant child!" Glaring Dean waited for a response arms crossed.
Sam's shoulders slumped as all the fight left him, "A child? I was never a child Dean." Disgust was clear in his voice, "Do you know which day it is Dean?"
Confused Dean raised an eyebrow, "No…"
"It's Charlie's death day." Sam pulled out a small book with dark blue binding.
Dean's jaw hit the floor pity covering it, "Sam, that is not something to dwell on."
Chuckling Sam continued, "Everyone's is in this book including yours, Bobby's, Charlie's, Jo's, and Ellen's. They are my failures and on their death's I… I wish I could join them." At this point Sam sobbed, "It is all my fault and I know you hold them against me. Charlie's hurts the worst I still remember every detail."
Shocked Dean went to speak then Sam threw a hand up, "Do not try and wriggle in on this. Do you remember what you said that night at Charlie's pyre?"
The pain in Sam's voice hurt and with horror he remembered, "Oh, Sam I… I never meant those words!" Horrified Dean tried to continue.
Sam's bitter chuckle cut him off, "I wish it was you up there, not her. Seemed like you meant it to me and turns out you were right." Sam stared dejectedly at the carpet knees pulled up to his chest sobbing brokenly, "Can you take them back?" Puppy dog eyes stared up at Dean begging for something to ease the pain. The pain alcohol could not numb.
Dean hesitated unsure at the reminder of all the lost lives. Crestfallen Sam looked down at the shattered glass and Dean retreated down the hallway.