Summary-Sam thinks about what he said to Dean that night at the asylum. He thinks about other things he's said or done to hurt him in the past. He thinks all he can do is hurt people that he cares about. He turns to alcohol. But what will he turn to when thats not enough? please R&R!
CHAPTER 1
Sam looked over at his alarm clock. Damn it, only 2:15. He thought. He couldn't sleep, hadn't been able to for three nights. He was still thinking about the hurtful things he said to Dean that night at the Roosevelt Asylum. Dean hadn't been the same around Sammy since that night. He knew he had hurt him. Cut him deeper than anyone ever had…and probably ever would. Thinking about it made Sam cry. He cried softly, so as not to wake Dean. Finally Sammy had cried himself to sleep. But he didn't sleep peacefully. All that night he had nightmares about all the things he had said and done to his brother. Ever so often he would wake up and then drift back to sleep. Sam just didn't understand why his life had to be like this. He wanted a normal life…a life he would never have.
The next morning Sam woke up grabbed some clean clothes and went to go take a shower. When he got out, he went to the kitchen to see what Dean was up to. He walked into the kitchen and took his seat next to Dean. "Morning Sammy." Dean said quietly. "Mornin Dean." Sam replied. Dean looked different this morning. He had been crying. Dean was crying because of what Sam had said to him that night at the asylum. Suddenly Sam got sick to his stomach. He acted like he couldn't tell. But it hurt him so bad to see his brother like this. Especially knowing he was the one who caused him to. Sam wanted to break down so bad, but didn't because he thought it might make matters worse. He held in his tears.
"Dean I'm going out for a while, do you need anything?" Sam asked. "No Sammy I'm fine." Dean said. Sam walked out the door. He got in the car and drove to the nearest bar. He needed a drink to get his mind off Dean. He ordered a beer. One beer became two and two became three. Pretty soon he was so drunk he could hardly stand. Sam waited to sober up a little before he drove home. When he walked in the door Dean was sitting at the same place he was when Sam had left. "Sammy, where the hell have you been?" Dean asked sternly. "I…Went to…to get a drink." Sam managed to get out. "You were drunk and you drove home?" Dean yelled. "I sobered up some before I got in the car." Sam said. "Oh really. Just how many beers did you have?" Dean demanded. "Oh, around five." Sam said after a minute. "Five beers? Oh this is great." Dean walked off into his room. Sammy went the other direction into his room. He suddenly had the urge to throw up.
That night Sam didn't sleep at all. He knew he'd disappointed Dean yet again.
Sam woke up. He walked into the living room. "Hey." Sam said as he walked past Dean and sat down on the couch. Dean got up and walked away. "What?" Sammy asked. "Sam don't talk to me. I can't even stand to look at you after last night. Just leave me alone. I mean it." Sam had never heard that come out of his mouth. Oh my God. I did it again. He got up and made his way over to where Dean was standing. "Dean," Sam said with sadness in his voice, "I uh…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." Dean turned around and looked his brother straight in the eyes. "I know you didn't Sammy, you never do, but you always manage to." Dean said. Sam sat down on the couch and began to cry. He didn't know how to go about apologizing to his brother. A few minutes later Dean came back through. Sam sat up, tears still streaming down his face. "Do you think Mom would appreciate what you're doing?" Dean asked. Sam thought for a moment and then replied. "No." Sam said feeling complete sadness taking him over. "What about Dad? What do you think he'd say about all this?" Dean said a little more angrily. "Dad doesn't care about me, Dean. He'd just say that I'm a useless piece of shit like he always has." Said Sam bitterly.
"Sam, you know Dad cared about you. Don't you start this bull shit with me." Dean said. "Its not bull shit, Dean. Name one time Dad showed me he cared." Cried Sam. Dean said nothing. "That's right Dean, you can't." Screamed Sam. Dean walked away. Sam went in his room, sat on his bed, and thought. Dean was asleep. Sam grabbed the car keys and went out the door. He went to the closest store and bought alcohol. When he got back in the car, he opened the bottle and took a long sip. The alcohol burned his throat. Sam let out a slight grunt after drinking it. He drove home and when he was safely inside he finished off the rest of the bottle. He placed the bottle on his nightstand, changed his clothes, and went to sleep. As soon as his head hit the pillow he felt something slap him across the face. He looked up and saw Dean standing there, breathing heavily. "What the hell was that for?" Sam said. "You know damn well what it was for." Dean yelled. Sam, still on his bed, was scared, afraid to move. "Now, where did you get this?" Dean asked. "I went to the store last night." Sam said shaking. Dean grabbed the bottle of the nightstand, and threw it in the garbage. "Sam, what has gotten into you? You never used to drink like this." Dean asked. "Dean, to be honest with you, I really don't know." Sam said. Dean looked at his little brother in disbelief. He just couldn't believe Sammy was doing this. He didn't want to believe it. "Sammy, get some sleep, we'll talk about this more tomorrow." Dean wanted to think the whole thing had been a dream. But he realized it wasn't, it was real. He had to help Sammy…somehow.