Title: Cursed

Author: T

Summary: Sam's POV during the ending of 'Heart'

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with supernatural!

I'm cursed. Either that or I've done something wrong, like I have a lifetime's worth of karmic debt to payback. One or the other. There has to be some reason why almost every major event in my life is worth crying over. I can count the number of good big events on one hand. Getting into Stanford. But that was a curse all in itself. Nothing that seems like a good thing turns out that way. Nothing.

Take right now, this moment, a perfect example.

Madison. The first person I've seen something special with since Jess.

Madison, I thought I could save her. She could have been the first person I've really cared about and was able to save. But then the realization hits me like a bullet right in the heart. I can't save her. I can't save anyone special to me. I'm not good enough for that.

I die when she asks me to save her. I breakdown, I beg, I cry like a toddler begging to go to the playground as if it means life or death. Even though in this case it really does.

I die when I hear the all too familiar words, I've even used before. The words I've used to wound and kill my own brother with. I've used the words killing me right now to kill my own brother with. Sorry Dean.

I die when she picks up the gun. The same way I did, not on the handle, not touching the trigger. And she holds it out to me like I would be willing take it, like I want it.

I'm not the only one that can do it. I can't be. I won't be. There has to be another way, a cure, some hope. It can't end like this again, there can't be another tragedy to haunt me with until the day I die.

And then I see Dean. I now he's desperate to save me from this. To ease this deathly pain that's taken over my entire body, paralyzing me from pleading with her, telling her no, getting on my knees and praying to god to find another way out of this disaster. But when that gun leaves her hand and enters my brothers, the pain doesn't cease, it just allows me to leave her eyesight and run and hide as if from a monster.

I cry. Real tears, not ones that seep from my eyes, ones that shower down and drench my face and blind my sight and ability to think. I hear footsteps coming from behind me. Ones that only want the best for me and are dying to help, but his and mine both know now there's nothing he can do.

"You don't have to do it." Trust me. I thought the same thing moments ago, but from the last glance I stole from her, the last begging eye I spotted, I have to do this. This is my responsibility, my burden, not yours.

So I push my hand out. It's shaking. My emotions aren't even under control yet and I'm already asking for more. Then I receive the cold hunk of metal in my hand. Dean finally gave in to something I've begged for. The one time I don't want him to give into it. So I walk away and stop. Look back. There's my brother, staring at me walking away, both of us already knowing this next moment will be forever imprinted on both of us.

I round the corner, bravado stained all over my clothes, and then I see her. She's turned to the window, if I'm quick I can do it now and she never would have seen me. Maybe she'll never even notice. But I'm not quick. I slightly lift my shaking arm away from my shaking body and my silent sobs start to become not so silent. Of course when she hears me she turns around and catches me with my gun dead on her. She breathes. I breathe. She walks. I don't. I'm stuck. Yet again I'm paralyzed only by the sight of her.

When she comes close to arm length, I'm finally able to lower my arm, but both trained hands stay on the gun grasping it with everything I have, all I have left.

And then the torture begins.

"Please Sam, you've got to. You know you've got to," No, don't say that.

"Please Sam, you'd be doing me a favor," She did it again. Sorry Dean.

I can't move. I can't even look at her or let her know I've already heard everything she's saying. I've felt it, I've even said it before, all I can do is stand, shaking, crying, dying. She's killing me and she doesn't even know it.

All I can manage is a nod to try and get this torture to stop. Then she walks even closer puling me into an embrace I, surprisingly, wasn't expecting. But as soon as she's holding me I breakdown again, loose what little composure I had, had before. I wrap my arms around her and hold her so tightly, my head silently falling to her shoulder as violent sobs escape me. I've lost it more than she has and I'm not even the one about to get shot.

"I can't do this," I sob talking into her hair, my eyes crying so hard they might as well be bleeding.

"I know this is hard Sam, but you have to do it. You know you have to do it," She whispers with a soothing voice into my ear, "Please, just get it over with."

And then I feel her embrace loosen a little as her cold hand touches the top of mine. She tightens a grip around my wrist and pulls my hand with the gun in it down and up until it's pressed against her heart. My breathing gets more hitched by the second up until her hand loosens around my wrist and now is on top of my hand.

"Please, Sam." She whispers, her other hand caressing my back in an attempt to calm me down. But I can't until she yet again whispers her plea.

There are so many things I could have said in that moment. I could have said anything, even if it wasn't to get her to change her mind, but to say goodbye. I never said goodbye. I just enclosed my finger on the trigger and pulled it.

It's almost instantly that I feel the warm liquid seep onto my shirt. She gasps. I gasp. We pull away, and I look straight into her eyes. She looks back into mine again and gasps before looking away.

"Thank you," And then her head slumps back onto my shoulder and her body goes completely limb in my arms. I breathe hard and struggle to keep her body up as the hard reality hits me. I just killed the first girl I've ever had something with since Jess. I killed her with my own hand.

"Madison?" I say as if she can hear me, "Madison!" I yell shaking her lifeless body slightly. My mind begins to race. I lay her body down as gently as a possibly can and collapse next to her and begin to sob loudly. I bend over and hold her tightly. I can't ever let go, I can't.

All I can do is pray to god I did the right thing, and that Dean won't come out and see me like this. I lay her down, and soon I fall down too, my head on her shoulder, as I sob silently.

When I'm finally able to sit up I really look at her. God, her eyes are still open. I reach over with a shaking hand and close her eyes with all the strength I have left, and then hear footsteps approaching. Quickly I reach up and dry my tears, sniffle and pull myself up.

I look at Dean slightly. I can't believe it when I see a tear stain on his shirt, and for a second I stare, but then quickly look down with no idea what to say.

"I'll clean up here. You Just…. You just go wait in the kitchen. I'll be out in a sec," he says taking some breathes in between. I can tell he wants to get me away from her. I nod, the only thing I know how to do right now, and slowly walk away into the kitchen.

He comes back almost two minutes later. I think he put the gun in her hand. Made it look like a suicide. Sorry Madison. Then whipped our prints. The basics. It's like we were never here, like I never knew Madison. That probably hurts the most.

"Ok, let's get going," Dean says barely above a whisper, but it's enough to spring me up and get me heading towards the door. I'm not crying anymore. I don't think I'm even in my body any more. I'm floating around, still in shock about everything that has happened over the last five minutes.

So we've been driving in the car for almost an hour. No one has said a single word. I haven't even so much as glanced up from my lap except to close my eyes and try to fall asleep. Yeah, when I'm asleep it's easier not to talk.

I know we're both thinking the same thing. It's the only think that could be on either of our minds after something like this happening. When I do glance over to Dean he seems to be deep in thought. As though he's trying to come up with the right words to convey what he's been thinking about for the last hour.

"Sam I know what you're thinking," Dean starts. Wow, is he psychic too? "But your wrong. This doesn't make you a… murder," Yeah he must be. "The conditions were… Harsh. And we really didn't have any choice." Dean finishes seeming to be pleased with the way he spoke.

"Yeah," I start, "Put under the right conditions everyone's capable of murder, even me. Guess I just need to be poked the right way to get set off," There. That'll get him to shutup and stop him from trying to make me feel better. Or at least I thought it would.

"You know what man? Stop it with the damn negative attitude with everything. Put under the right conditions anyone would resort to what you just did," he yells at the window.

"Murder," I define for him.

"No, not murder! Because you did that girl a favor. You did a lot of people that she would have hurt a favor!" I could tell when Dean finished he knew what was coming next and he already seemed to be preparing for a comeback to the next thing that would come out of my mouth.

"Then why won't you do me that favor Dean?" I say with a quiet toneless voice, knowing I don't even really have to say it.

"Because your not killing people every night. Your not getting revenge on the people that hurt you. Your not making people kill themselves."

"Not yet,"

"Not ever. Those people, Sam, they were the murderers. Whether or not they were aware of what they were doing that's besides the point. They were the ones that couldn't fight it. You can fight it,"

"No Dean. I've said it before, but I can't fight this forever. I think you know that if I could kill Madison, you can kill me." I bet he was hoping I wouldn't say that. Sorry Dean.

Dean breathes hard and says quietly, "It's different Sam. It is, just trust me."

Sorry Dean, I'm not convinced.