Author's Note: Eh, just some random fanfic of mine. And please go check out my other ones, as they're not too shabby. KEEP IN MIND! Dean is afflicted by the Mark, so he does get a little OOC, but it's justified. Overall, please enjoy and review!

"Dean, you're being paranoid. Abaddon is dead, and her minions are most likely terrified of you. Crowley wouldn't send any demons after us. They're probably just a normal family on a drive." Sam reasoned about the black SUV Dean swore was tailing them. For the moment, it was like before. Before the angels fell. Before Metatron. Before the Mark of Cain.

"Yeah, well, they haven't turned off onto a different road in thirty minutes! They are definitely tailing us!" Dean debated, earning a sigh from his brother.

"Dean, has there been a turnoff anywhere?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer. It really shows in his tone, Dean thought. Dean gave a grumble of "No" for an answer. God, Sam, you can be so annoying sometimes. Dean didn't know it, but the Mark on his arm was softly glowing. Dean began pulling the wheel to the right, as if they were pulling over.

"If they stop, we're being followed. If they continue..."

"I'm right?" Sam sounded slightly exasperated and annoyed, but stayed silent as the car in question drove past them. "See, Dean? I swear, that Mark is changing you. I think you might wanna take a break. We just killed Abbadon and...you should cool down." Dean knew Sam was worried about him, but without just cause. A little infuriating, in fact. Suddenly, Dean's thoughts exploded in rage, and the Mark on his arm burned. No! I am so much stronger, fiercer, a better hunter than I was before! And yet he still doubts me! Is anything enough for him? Or...maybe he's jealous. He could be plotting something against me. Dean opened his door, saying he needed air. He did. And space from his brother. Sam has been trying to separate me from the First Blade...could he want me to be killed by a demon? No, no way...He heard Sam exit the car.

"Dean, your arm is burning!" It was true, where the Mark was, a bright red glow was illuminating through the jacket sleeve, and heat was spreading through Dean's arm, as if through his bloodstream. "That Mark is not healthy! We have some ice in the back, maybe it'll help! Dean, we gotta give that back to Cain! You can't handle it."

Dean felt the heat in his blood, and the lack of faith his brother had in him. Dean's eyes went hard as stone, and, slowly drawing the Blade from his jacket, he turned to face his brother. "Sam, I've never been better. Everything's clearer." The Blade flicked upward, and entered Sam's stomach. Not just once, twice. Dean saw Sam's muscles tighten, and his legs folded. Dean eased his brother to the ground, and met Sam's eyes. He was taken aback by the shock, horror, and the sorrow in the hazel depths.

The horror that I just stabbed him. I just stabbed my brother. I committed fratricide, just like Cain. And it wasn't for a good reason.Immediately, the feverish bloodlust evaporated, and the Mark stopped glowing. Dean sheathed the Blade, took off his jacket, and pressed it on his wound. Oh god, Sam, please! I am so sorry! Dean applied pressure even as his brother's eyes lost focus, and Dean called 911.

"Yes, my brother was stabbed by some guy who ran into the woods. It's pretty bad, I put pressure on it. We're five miles down the road. Three minutes? Okay." Dean hung up shakily, and concentrated on Sam. Sam, the brother who means everything to me. Sam, who I just stabbed. Dean felt guilt twist in his stomach like a knife. Oh, the irony.

Dean pressed his hand to his brothers' neck. A pulse. A small, weak pulse, but a pulse. It was the beat to Dean's heart. Where are the medics? Come on! I can't lose him, especially if I...no. He won't die...and...I'll make it up to him. Sam, where's that stubborn Winchester blood in you, that you always showed Dad? It may have been Dean's imagination, but Sam's pulse seemed to disappeared. The blood seemed to cover everything, filling every one of Dean's senses. No, we've gone up against odds and won before...

"Sam, stay with me. Please, I couldn't live if you...and I caused it." Dean couldn't bring himself to say 'die', as if that would jinx them. "I don't deserve to have you here, but please, please, please...I can't lose another one of my family. Don't make Cas get stuck with me." Dean pleaded, as if by sheer force of will he could anchor his brother to life. He heard sirens, and saw their lights dapple the ground. Thank God!

Two paramedics strapped Sam to a stretcher, and carted him away. Dean didn't resist, knowing Sam would be safer with them. I might hurt him again. Two cops showed up, and one handed Dean a baby wipe. Dean realized he was covered in Sam's blood. Dean wiped off his hands, and prepared himself for the questions. Bullshit this quiz, then go see Sam.

"Sir, you said a man came out of the woods and stabbed your brother?" The first one started it off, straight to the point. Dean stuck to his lie.

"Yes. Sam said he saw something, and we stopped, and then..." Dean trailed off, not having to act like a horrified witness. He was. A witness to my own horror.

"Sir, can you describe the man?" The second cop pressed, sounding more gentle than the other one. Dean contemplated it. How about right in front of you?

"Um...dark clothing, dark hair? I didn't see much." Dean closed his eyes, guilt crashing over his head and through his veins. "When can I see my brother?" The two cops exchanged a glance. The second one answered the question.

"You can go, but leave a number with us in case we need to contact you again." Dean left his number with them, and the second cop gave him a look of sympathy. "Clean yourself up first, you don't wanna show up there covered in blood if you're gonna be there a while. And news won't come for a bit. Best of luck." Dean drove off in the Impala, vowing to leave the damn First Blade in a locked box, and whenever Sammy came to, they'd destroy the damn thing, or bury it so deep no one would find it. If Sam comes out of it, of course. But Dean refused to dwell on that.

Author's Note: Cliffy! Some foreshadowing in the last paragraph! And please review, as they mean so much! Thanks and you better hope I'm merciful and spare Sam!