A brush of a hand whistled across the bar, at the unknowing of what had sat there before. My eyes were drooping, for I could feel them. For once, I was the only one who came, telling the older that I'd be going for lunch.

Depression seemed to be all that would fill me these days. This new relationship thing that I and Dean had started… a few weeks ago I would've said I would be happier then I'd ever been before. Happier then being with Jessica, when he'd had normal. That I would trade all that over for Dean, any day.

But now… it seems that I haven't ever been more besieged. I worry, and I fret. I question my every motive, my every thought, 'What will Dean think of this?' 'What will he say?'

I see it in Dean's eyes that I'm not doing enough.

And I'm beginning to worry I've blown my only chance. It's starting to break my heart.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender asked, while her rag, gently, scrubbed the filth from the, glossy, champagne glass, and I think only if my woes could be cleansed as easily as the glass could its.

"A beer, please," he simply replied.

Dean might be sending me to my grave, though he hasn't really made any faults. He's only been kind and tender with the whole thing. I know it will kill him if I shatter, but I seem to have no control. I am slowly breaking. The worry has appeared to set a permanent marker upon my soul and there hasn't been any eraser to clear it.

'What are you doing, Sam? You have always wanted this, don't blow it.'

I thank the bartender as she set my beer aside my hand, I tilt it to my lips and let the strong liquid slide down my throat. In hope that the numbness will come soon.

'Why are you giving up so easily? Go tell Dean straight.' I slam the bottle to the counter, and I shoot from my stool. Then, scampering over to the door, and hammer the car's, behind me, when I crawl in. And driving well past the speed limit on the way back to the motel.

Hopping out of the car before the vehicle even ceased, and sprinting over to the door, before swinging it open. Dean stood from the bed, in astonishment.

"Sam, I-…" I cut him off, for I cross the room and smash my lips into his before he could finish. "What was that for?"

"I love you Dean," I say, before sealing the kiss with another.

And after breaking apart I plead "Please, don't leave me."

Dean looks closely at me. Studying me, as if deciding something important, he traces my features with the tip of his finger. My nose twitches, slightly, as his hand, merely, brushes it.

"Sam, why would I ever leave you," he murmured, smiling, shyly, and all I could think was, 'He's so cute when he does that.'

Our mouths connect, once again, and we slowly move down to lay on the bed to make love for the first time in a long time.