O, Death
Dean stared down at his hands. After wearing Death's ring, Dean had been afraid to touch anyone he cared about. Sam included. Actually, he was terrified to do anything to Sam now that he had been Death. He was afraid that while they were making love, something would go wrong leaving Dean holding Sam in his arms because he had killed him. He couldn't look at Sam without getting that sinking feeling.
Sam didn't understand what was going on with his brother. Mainly for the simple fact that he had been soul less at the time that Dean had taken on the Horseman's role. All he knew is that him and Dean hadn't done much of anything. He remembered the night before he jumped into the hole, how Dean had been so gentle to him, so caring, like Sam was the most breakable thing in the whole world and one tiny bump could break him. And Sam wanted that again. He just had to figure out how.
Sam convinced Bobby to let him and Dean have the house all to themselves. Sam had spent all day making everything perfect. He busted open Bobby's cookbooks that were covered in dust and prepared a romantic dinner for them. He turned off all the lights and found some non-burnt, non-used for rituals candles and set them up all around the house. He cleaned up a little bit too, making everything perfect. He set there waiting until Dean got home…but it didn't come. The dinner got cold, the candles burnt down, and the clean table that Sam had set became wet with his tears.
Sam walked upstairs and went into the room he used to use when he was little. He locked the door and started to pack. After all his clothes had been packed away, Sam wrote a note and left it on the table. He left quickly then.
Dean came home later that night. He had been out hustling pool. It was something he hadn't done in a long time but it was just like riding a bike. He didn't think that his Sammy would mind that he had been out so long. But he had been wrong.
He walked in and saw all the candles sitting on around the living room. He saw a dinner sitting on the table with two blown out candles in the middle of the table. And being held down by those candle holders was a single sheet of paper. Dean walked to it and read it.
Dear Dean,
It seems to me that you barely care enough to make love to me anymore, let alone show up for a simple dinner that I asked you to come home for. I fixed us something from scratch and had everything set up for you. And you didn't even care. I don't know what happened to you for that time that I didn't have a soul, but it must have been pretty bad for you to not even care about me anymore. So I'm leaving. I'm going to go find Samuel and join back up with them again. Goodbye Dean.
Sammy
Dean dropped the note onto the table and ran upstairs. He was starting to freak out. Where had Sam gone to? Had he left yet?
"Sammy!" Dean yelled out. His voice echoed in the empty house. Bobby wasn't here either, but Dean knew that more than likely from the note he had read, Sam had asked him to leave so they could have a romantic evening to themselves. Bobby knew about their relationship and he didn't care, as long as everything was kept out of his view when he was home.
Dean pushed open the door to his and Sam's room, a place he hadn't slept in for awhile. He had been afraid to even cuddle with Sam, so he had camped out on the couch. He didn't think about what that might do to Sam though. But there, in their room, was the little white dog with the pink ribbon that Dean had won for Sam, was sitting on the bed.
"No." Dean said as he started to cry. He picked up the little dog and cradled it in his arms just like Sam had when he got it. Dean decided then he had to go find Sam. He had to find him and tell him how he really felt. But he had to use all his detective skill to find him first.
Sam walked into the room he had booked for himself and set down on the bed. He dropped his bags to the floor and stared at the wall. He was trying to be strong so he wouldn't cry. He was trying to hold back the tears that were coming up because Dean didn't love him anymore, but he couldn't help it. He started to cry. He rested his head in his hands and kept crying. Dean probably didn't care that he had left. He had probably found someone in the bar that he was now fucking in the back seat of the Impala. And now all Sam wanted to do was die.
Dean was pushing the Impala down a dark back road, going quickly as he scanned for Sam. He needed to find him before anything happened to him. He would never forgive himself if his big baby got hurt all because he couldn't protect him.
"Hello Dean." Someone said. Dean looked over to see someone sitting in the passenger seat. He slammed on his breaks, making the Impala skid to a stop. He set there breathing hard and then slowly looked over at the seat. Death was sitting there.
"You know, you're almost as bad as Cas." Dean said breathing hard. "I'm gonna have to get you guys matching bells to put around your necks." Death looked over at him.
"I know about the problems you and Sam have been facing." Death said. Dean's cheeks reddened at the thought that Death knew what they did when the lights went out. "And I know that it's affected Sam more than you'll know."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, the color quickly disappearing from his cheeks. Death looked over at him.
"I know that you have been afraid to touch him every since you tapped into the power of my ring." Death said, avoiding the question at hand. "That you're going to kill him the way you did that little girl. Am I right?" He asked, looking over at Dean. Dean looked away from him.
"I don't want to kill him." Dean said. Death shook his head.
"You have none of my power lingering in you." Death said. "But the very thing you were trying to avoid may end up driving him to that thing." Dean looked back at him.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Sam is at a motel just outside of town." Death said. "Tessa is on her way there to take him once he has finished what he's there to do." Dean's eyes grew wide. Sammy, his Sammy, was going to kill himself in some crappy motel room, all because he was too scared about being alone to realize he was driving Sam away.
"What motel?" Dean asked. He had to get there before Tessa did. He had to save Sam before Sam hurt himself.
"The Taillight Motel." Death said. "Room 13." Dean looked out at the road. He pressed down on the accelerator and did a U-turn. That motel was on the other side of town.
"Why are you helping me?" Dean asked after about a minute of speeding. Death looked over at him.
"I didn't do all that soul searching just to have Sam kill himself." Death said. "So if you don't save him, I'm going to throw him into Purgatory. All the glamour of hell without the messy chains and bloody heaps." That made Dean want to vomit. He couldn't stand imagining Sam in hell, let alone Purgatory.
"I…" Dean began to say, but Death was gone. Dean wrapped his hands tightly around the steering wheel and drove as fast as he could to the Taillights Motel.
Sam set on the edge of the bed, the gun he was going to use loaded and resting in his hands. He looked down at it, tears in his eyes and fear feeling his heart. He had at least wanted to tell Dean to his face that he was leaving him, but this was the best way he guessed. But he guessed that Dean wasn't even caring that he was gone.
Sam slowly raised the gun to his head and closed his eyes. He could feel the cold steel against his skin. He knew this would be his final memory.
"SAMMY NO!" Someone yelled. Sam looked up just in time to see Dean running in and smacking the gun out of Sam's hand. It fell to the floor. Dean grabbed Sam's hands with tears in his eyes. He looked up at Sam and gently touched the side of his head.
"What the hell were you doing Sammy?" Dean asked as he fought the urge to cry. Sam looked away from him. Dean kept caressing Sam's cheek. "Come on Sammy. Talk to me. Please baby." Sam started to cry.
"You don't love me." Sam cried. He moved back onto the large bed and curled up. He started to cry even more. Dean set there, looking at him. Sam kept crying. That's when Dean reached into his inside pocket and pulled something out.
"If I didn't love you, would I bring this?" Dean asked. Sam opened his eyes and saw the white little puppy sitting in Dean's hands. Sam set up.
"Momo?" Sam asked. Dean nodded his head. He set down on the bed and Sam took the little dog and hugged him. "Will you hold me?" Sam asked. Dean looked at him.
"I…" He said. Sam started to look like he was about to cry. "Come here." Dean said, opening his arms up. Sam curled up against his chest. Dean wrapped his arms around him. Suddenly, all feeling of doubt that Dean had gotten when talking to Death had disappeared.
"I miss you holding me." Sam said. Dean felt warm drips hitting the fabric of his shirt. He looked to see Sam crying. Dean stroked his hair.
"I will never do that again." Dean said. He leaned down to kiss Sam. And that night, Dean made sweet love to Sam. He was never afraid again to touch his little brother.
:The End: