Disclaimer: Nope, unfortunately I own none of this

Okay, wow. This is the first thing I have ever written (and, you know, shown to people), so this might be a little bumpy. I apologize for this: sorry. But I have been reading fanfiction for a long time, so this is exciting! I am not entirely sure where this is going, but it is a pretty sure thing that this will include lots of violence and attempted suicide. Let the adventure commence...

The rain was pouring down. Again. Sam's fingers yearned to trace the pattern of the drips on the car window like he used to when he was little, back before everything got so dark and scary in his life. But the thirteen year old Winchester remained stubbornly motionless except for the occasional huff that always was received with a glare from his father.

The fight had been, like usual, about something harmless. Sam hadn't clean the weapons at the exact moment his father wanted them done. Or maybe he was two minutes late home from school. It had evolved into a discussion about Sam's science project. A very loud, angry discussion. Daniel had no clue that Sam was leaving and their project wasn't even half done. Sam couldn't just leave his partner like that. Plus, he had half of the research for it and his (stubborn) father refused to make any stops to deliver it. They were leaving in five minutes and heading straight out of town. No exceptions.

Not for the first time, Sam sat in the backseat of the Impala, his mind briefly skimming over the idea of leaving. Just taking his meager possessions and disappearing into the night. Sure, he would miss Dean. It stung even to think about leaving the one constant thing in his life, the one thing he could ever rely on, ever truly loved. But Dean would be better off. After all, John loved to point out how often Sam screwed up; how often he almost got them (Dean) killed. After five years of the reprimand, Sam was well aware how completely useless he was.

His eyes, which had been so stubbornly fixed outside the window, drifted to his brother's prone form in the passenger seat. Whatever anger he had held for his brother not standing up for him had disappeared. He often felt like this, realizing what a burden it was to have such an annoying, disobedient brother. The idea was nagging in the back of his mind, Disappearing. Maybe, for once he could do something for his brother, who had sacrificed his entire life to Sam, watching out for Sammy.

"But, " a voice in his head protested, one that was terrified to leave big brother, "It would hurt him! He would miss you! It wouldn't be doing anybody good." Sam used to listen to that voice, but nowadays he found it to be much easier to ignore. God, he wished he could just fall asleep like his brother.

Predictably, the cabin was old, alone, and in the middle of the woods. Sam found himself huffing again as he stepped out of the car. His dad was still watching him closely. "Probably waiting for me to mess something else up," Sam thought angrily. He grabbed his bag and stomped inside just as Dean began to yawn and come to in the Impala.

Dean watched his younger sibling sadly, wishing he could do something to make him feel better. He knew Sam was pissed at him because he hadn't said a word in the earlier fight, but the teenager just didn't understand. Dean knew, someday the fight was going to be big. It was going to be scary and try to tear their already broken family apart, and Dean needed his dad to listen to him then. It was no good making enemies and losing his opinion's value in his father's mind over changing schools. It still hurt though, when his brother glared accusingly at him.

The family tentatively unpacked what little they had, they fight still hanging in the air. Their father, surprisingly, didn't immediately leave. Instead he told of his plan to leave in the morning. He would be back in a week. Much to Sam's displeasure, this was "Just one of those jobs. We might have to leave in less than a seconds notice and it is unnecessary to leave trails like school papers," or whatever excuse his father concocted to explain the fact that he had been too lazy to enter Sam in the new school. Dean, on the other hand, was pleased as punch to be skipping school.

"Just more time I get to spend annoying my little brother," Dean said playfully, rumpling Sam's hair.

Sam just sighed and stepped out from under Dean's hand. He stomped up to his room. While Sam really did appreciate his brother's playful banter, there were just some things he could not fix. Sam didn't know how much more of this he could take.

The other two Winchesters watched the youngest go. Dean sighed woefully and John dropped his face into his hand.

"The kid's gotta learn Dean," he said, sensing that his eldest was about to say something. But Dean remained quiet, and somberly nodded his head. He knew that Sam's stubbornness was bound to get someone hurt one day, hell, it had already landed Sam himself in the hospital once. Dean shivered as he remembered that night. The blood. Sammy's tears dripping down his face as he sobbed into Dean's shoulder. His whispered words, "I don't wanna die, De," before he slipped into unconsciousness. God, Dean wanted to forget that night altogether. He wanted to pretend that he could trust Sam, trust him to do what he is told and stay the hell where he is supposed to. But he found that he couldn't. He was more determined than ever to protect his sibling, but even big brother knows that there is only so much he can do. He has to be able to trust his baby, because god knows that, as much as Dean wishes that he could, he isn't going to be there for Sam every moment if his life. And that scares him more than anything.

Sam lay in bed; tears' slipping down his face for god knows what reason, listening. The sounds below were subdued. His family was always more quiet after a fight, especially after what happened three months ago.

"All you do is worry them," a voice in his head hissed, "You just do things wrong and get people hurt". Sam had to agree. It did appear to be the case. Everyone had been so sad after he had finally woken up at the hospital. His father shakily rattled off the facts; the monster had gotten him, cut him deep, he had died on the operating table three times, and had been asleep for nearly a week, but Sam wasn't paying attention. He was looking at the expression that adorned his friends' faces. Granted, they had all seemed pleased that he was awake and doing much better, but there was still the look on their faces. Dad, Bobby, Dean, even Ellen had joined in on the hunt. They were scared, hurt, and unhappy. Sam had put that look on their faces; he had done that because he couldn't follow the simplest directions of staying out of the way.

The door creaked open and Sam heard Dean enter the room. He stayed facing away, not giving any indication he was awake. He just didn't feel like talking to his brother. "You're such a child," the voice chided him. Sam held back a whimper as Dean sighed and slipped into his own bed. He knew he was hurting his brother. God, he knew. So why couldn't he just stop? "Because, Sam, you're a no good baby that only gets in the way," Sam really whished the voice would kindly shut the hell up. He already knew all of this. His sadness continued to wash over him in waves until he fell into a fitful sleep.

There was no noise. No color. No life. Everything was…still. Sam stood on the edges of the clearing of trees. He gazed to the center. There was a fire, huge, burning and burning. Humming filled the air. It was fitting to the monotone scene that the tune was somewhat devoid of life. It was eerie in the pitch of the child's voice. It suddenly struck Sam how incredibly odd it was that the fire was burning so well. The forest appeared to have just been through a rainstorm, and all the wood was extremely damp. He drifted closer to the flames, everything seeming particularly dreary and Sam didn't feel inspired to move very quickly. Sam found that he, in fact, wasn't really feeling anything. Suddenly, he was next to the flames. Everything was normal. But he should look down. Into the fire. He had to see, something was compelling him but…no. Look. His eyes traced the flame down. Suddenly, the color and smell came back to his mind with alarming speed. Everything was red and it smelled horrible and oh God Sam stumbled backwards suddenly feeling the need to vomit. His father's face stared at him from within the flames, and Bobby's and Ellen's and Jo's and Jim's and… Sam screamed when he saw his brother's face, the flesh peeling off as his (dead) eyes pierced into Sam. The tune was urgent now, right behind Sam and he turned and it was just a girl but her face was mangled and burnt and she screamed and Sam fell backwards again. He fell onto his brother and the flames licked his body as the girl cackled. Sam tried to scream but there was fire in his mouth.

The youngest Winchester shot up in bed, gasping for breath. His face was wet and he was alarmed to find it was tears. Everything came rushing back to him and he jerked his head around to see his brother alive and breathing, fast asleep in his bed. "Oh God" he moaned quietly to himself. There was no way in hell he was going back to sleep after that. He found himself moving without thinking about it. He was up, his coat was on and he was…outside.

"I'll just take a quick walk and be back soon," he told himself, knowing exactly how unpleasant Dean could be when he wakes up to find Sam missing, especially when they are in the middle of the woods and Sam must have gone into the dense, uncharted territory surrounding them. Oh yes, he was quite unpleasant.

After about ten minutes of walking Sam had come to the conclusion that these woods were untouched; nobody had been here in a long while. Somehow, that comforted him. He wasn't really in the mood to talk to anyone. Not that it would matter, only crazy people are out walking in the woods at three in the morning. Sam stopped as he fully registered the time that he had noticed (but not really) on the stove on his way out. Why did he think this was a good idea? The ground was soggy, his bare feet now wet and freezing. Suddenly it seemed too much like his dream and it all became suffocating. He was blindingly aware of the fact that he had no weapon and nothing to defend himself if a monster was to find him out in the woods. He remembered the pain from the last time this had happened and, in a flash was running back to the cabin. Or, at least, he thought so. Which direction was that again?

Sam was flustered and more than a little scared. He was usually so good at navigating his way through the woods; his family had relied on his skill on a hunt more than once. So why couldn't he find his way back now? It was as if he had never been in this part of the woods before, while he knew he must have just passed through it. He ran for about thirty minutes before collapsing in despair. What was happening to him? He just felt so tired and sad and lost and it was all much too much. He sat down against a tree and began to sob hopelessly, somehow convinced that Dean would never find him and he would be lost out here until he died.

Oh God.

He paused for a moment, trying desperately to collect his thoughts through the hazy fog in his mind. That's when he heard it. The sound of sobbing that would forever change his life.

To be continued….

So this wasn't a very bad cliffhanger, I think maybe. However, I will warn you that things are about to go very downhill for our little Sammy ;)