-1Warnings: Mentions of Suicide. Character Death.

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise. Kripke owns Supernatural and Alter Bridge Own the song 'Watch Over You'.

A/N: has this idea for a while now, the song fit's the boys perfectly. Gimmie a review and let me know what you think.

And Most Important: Watch Out For Sammy.

Leaves fall on the ground

Fall has come,

Blue skies turning grey

Like my love.

"What am I supposed to do?" Dean yelled, his voice hoarse and strangled for the sobs. He wasn't thinking straight he knew that himself, but it was mostly due to the sensation of unbelievable pain and unbearable numbness duelling for his attention. The Impala screeched to a halt and Dean clambered out before hastily grabbing the things he needed and forced them into the tobacco tin. Falling to his knees he dug a hole big and deep enough for the box and filled it back in. Springing to his feet, he waited. And waited. He looked around and then, "Show you're face you bitch!"

"Quiet honey or you'll wake the neighbours."

I tried to carry you

And make you whole

But it was never enough

I must go.

"How long'd you get?" Sam asked, Dean didn't reply but then he had to

"One year, I got one year." How could he hide something like that from Sam? Sam was pissed,, Dean didn't have to hear the words fall from Sam's lips, he was in that same position not so long ago. "Don't get mad at me. Don't you do that. I had to. I had to look out for you. That's my job!" Dean reasoned.

"What do you think my job is?"

"What?" Dean asked, it wasn't that he didn't understand the question, it was just that he hand thought about it like that. He was the big brother, the protector, keeping Sam safe no matter what was his job.

"You Save my life. Over and over. You sacrifice everything for me. don't you think I'd do the same for you? You're my big brother, there's nothing I wouldn't do for you. And I don't care what it takes I'm gonna get you out of this. It's my turn to save you for a change." Sam smiled and Dean couldn't help but return it.

"Yeah," he whispered, at least it kept Sammy happy.

And Who Is gonna save you

When I'm gone?

And who'll watch over you

When I'm gone?

Dean placed Sam on the bed as gently as he could. This would have been so much easier had Sammy been semi-conscious at least. Damn him and his heavy, lanky, six-foot-four frame. Dean carefully removed Sam's jacket and shirt before preceding to clean him up. It was supposed to have been a simple haunting. All the signs, all the evidence, all the research pointed to a simple salt and burn. Except, it wasn't. Sammy had ended up fighting with the ghost who was supposed to be across at the other side of town. He had got smacked off of gravestones and trees and anything else solid in the vicinity. Dean was lucky he had brought the shotgun blasted the mofo's ass the hell off of Sammy and burned his bones. Dean sighed and ruffled Sam's hair and got up. Another successful clean up. Dean sighed and moved methodically about the room. Salt lines at the door, knives and guns set out, painkillers and water for Sammy. Dean carded his fingers through his hair and took one last look at Sam from the bathroom door and wondered not for the first time, how Sam was going to cope without him.

You say you care for me

But hide it well

How can you love someone

And not yourself?

Sam looked up from the book he was reading. The book he was searching to find something to get Dean out of this deal he had made. Sam was still reeling that Dean would so freely give his own life for Sam's. Did he hate himself that much? Sam knew what it was and if he was completely honest, he wouldn't have thought Dean would have done anything else. Dean would do, had done, everything and anything for his family. He had always done it. But they were running out of time. Six months gone, six months to go, and so far they had found nothing. Dean was dying. His big brother was going to be the one walking away this time. Sam furiously rubbed at his eyes, six months was time enough to find something. Even if Dean had given up, Sam hadn't.

The Impala came to a halt at the side of the road and Sam glanced side wards, hands gripping furiously at the steering wheel, at Dean.

And when I'm gone

Who'll break your fall?

Who will you blame?

Dean wasn't driving, his head was warm and pressed against the cool window of the passenger side. He could sense Sam's tears and wanted more than anything to hear him laugh again, after all he didn't bring him back so he could cry, "You know Sammy I happen to have been comfortable there." he playfully growled at him and pouted for good measure. Through his tears Sam couldn't help but laugh. Dean was such and ass sometimes, but he was there when Sam needed him, he was there to shout at, to moan at, to bounce ideas off, to goof around with and most importantly to have his back, but he wouldn't be in two weeks. 50 weeks gone 2 weeks to go. And there were the tears again, hot and cold, gentle and vicious.

I can't go on

Let you lose it all

It's more than I can take.

Sam didn't want to cry. He desperately didn't but desperation had got him nowhere in the past fifty weeks so why should it start now? Dean blinked a few times as though trying to blink back his own tears. Dean didn't cry. They were screwed to hell. Literally.

Dean reached forward and place his hand on Sam's shoulder. It was over. Been and went. Gone. Just like that. Dean smirked and hugged Sam hard. That bitch wasn't going to send her hell hounds for him, no, he was going to go as willingly as he had made that deal. Dean turned and walked as Sam sank to his knees.

Who'll ease you're pain, ease you're pain?

Sam was sitting against the tree, his face streaked with blood, he had been shot making it virtually impossible to move his right arm. He needed help. He needed Dean. Sam let his head fall back and hit the tree, Dean would be laughing himself silly at this point. A simple possession had turned into a full scale battle. Sam smirked and began to recite the exorcism ritual as thought it was the shopping list, as he would be doing if Dean was here pointing his gun to it's head.

I'm always gonna save you

When I'm gone.

Sam winced as he pulled the bullet from his shoulder. He couldn't remember it ever hurting this much when Dean was doing it. But then again, Dean would be talking so much Sam would be distracted. Sam was alone, there was no distraction here, there was no Dean.

And I'll give you strength

When your not strong

I'll watch over You

When I'm gone

Sam looked at the two queen beds in the room and smiled sadly. Out of habit he had got a double room, anything to get away from the carols and wreaths and trees and freaking Santa's that lines the streets. It was just him. Just Sammy. It was no longer Sam and Dean. It was a one man show, sometimes featuring Bobby or Ellen as special guests. Sam laid the salt lines and set out the gun and knife beneath his pillow. Dean's gun and Dean's knife. The gun had seemed so inviting at time but Sam knew that was an insult to Dean. He hadn't given his life up so Sam could join him in the pit. There was a war going on and Sam was going to stay and fight. Do what he needed to do to get by. Do it for Dean.

Snow is on the ground

Winters come

You long to hear my voice

But I'm long gone.