"I'm So Lost, Sammy"
Another night, another beer to drown his sorrows in. He slammed down his seventh bottle, a slight crack forming along the side. The bartender eyed him, annoyed, and cleaned up the bottle's. Dean just stared down at his folded hands. His cheeks stung where he had rubbed them so much to rid himself of tears and his bloodshot eyes drooped from lack of sleep.
"Alright kid. That's enough for tonight."
Dean grunted and slung some money on the bar. He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, swaying slightly, before catching his balance and heading for the door. He dug for his car keys and when he finally found them in his jacket pocket he lazily slid in the driver's seat. He sat there, his head spinning and his stomach churning. He stuck the key in the ignition, turned, and the engine roared to life.
For a few minutes Dean sat there, leaned against the seat. He closed his eyes for a brief second before opening them. He didn't want the nightmares to come back; the images of himself holding his baby brother's dead body. It still killed him to even think about it. He felt like he was the one dying a painful death.
A tap on the window snapped out of his hazy state. He looked over and a disgruntled bar employee was standing there. Dean rolled down the window and stared, a flicker of anger in his glazed over green eyes. "You need to leave. The bar will be closing soon and the construction crew is coming in tomorrow morning. We don't want anybody still here."
Dean put the car in park, ignored the guy, and sped off. Despite his drunken state he didn't slow the car until he had pulled into the hotel parking lot. He got out and unsteadily walked to his room. He twisted the doorknob hard and staggered in, practically falling on the floor. He steadied himself, though, and kicked his shoes off.
Dean stood in the darkened room. For a second he thought he could hear Sam's laughter as he sat at the computer and did research for their latest hunt. But Dean had been hearing much laughter and seeing Sam's face everywhere. It hadn't become an illusion anymore; it had become a nightmare. He severely missed that puppy dog look and that smile that could make anybody's mood lighten. Fresh tears occupied his eyes as he angrily stomped to the bathroom. He needed a hot shower.
The scalding water was barely noticeable on his skin. He was numb to almost everything lately. Everything but pure pain and agony. His eyes drooped heavily but he refused to close them. The nightmares would just come back. Sam's face would float there, just in sight but just out of reach. It killed Dean everytime he had to endure another night of nightmares and tears.
Another fifteen minutes of the hot shower loosened up his muscles and helped him become at least half-way sober. He stepped out of the shower, nearly falling flat on his ass in his unsteady state, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He lazily walked out of the bathroom and over to his duffel where he grabbed a clean pair of boxer shorts and put them on. He yanked a t-shirt over his head before flinging himself face first onto the bed.
His eyes closed against his will and soon he found himself drifting off into a restless sleep.
Black eyes stared at him, menacing and mocking. Dean's shaky hands held the gun but he couldn't pull the trigger. Sam lashed out at him, knocking him backwards. The gun fell from his hands as he hit the brick wall of the alley way. He ignored the pain throbbing in his head and pushed himself up. The black pools of Sam's eyes quickly diminshed and were back to that same hazel Dean was so use to seeing everyday.
"Sam?"
Sam panted heavily; his chest was heaving as he gasped for air. "Dean, you have to shoot me. Please." Sam sounded so broken and scared. It hurt Dean's ears just to listen.
Dean shook his head and knocked the gun to the side. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. But when he opened them again, they were blacker than the night sky they were standing under. Dean ducked as Sam took a swing at his face. He grabbed the gun and reluctantly pointed it at Sam's chest. The demon inside of Sam, possessing him, laughed maniaclly.
"You wouldn't kill your baby brother now would ya, Dean?"
Dean tightened his grip on the gun, his jaw clenched tight. HIs heart told him that it was still Sam inside, but his mind overwhelmed his heart and told him to shoot. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. This was Sam, his baby brother, the one he was suppose to protect.
In an instant Sam was standing in front of Dean. Dean stumbled slightly; his gaze didn't falter. Sam's hand shot out at lightning speed and wrapped around Dean's throat. Dean choked and gasped for air. He stared into the black depths of Sam's eyes and felt tears well up in his own. The hazel eyes suddenly stared back at him. Sam's eyes widened in fright and he dropped his hand from Dean's throat. Dean gasped in oxygen, rubbing at his now sore neck.
"Dean, I'm so sorry. Please, Dean. Shoot me." Sam pleaded and begged. The demon inside of him was taking over; slowly gaining control of his mind and body for its own will.
"I can't, Sam." Dean's voice broke as he held the gun at his side.
"Shoot me now, dammit! DEAN! Shoot me!" Sam screamed before the demon took over again.
Dean shakily held the gun to Sam's chest. Sam smirked and wrapped a hand around Dean's wrist. "You wouldn't do it, big brother. You can't do it to Sam."
Dean shook his head. Tears freely fell down his cheeks but he didn't bother to wipe them away. The gun trembled in his hands and his pointer finger slowly pulled back. But he didn't pull back far enough. Not yet.
"Dean. Oh god, Dean. Help me. Save me. Please." Sam cried and pleaded with his brother. Dean's teary eyes stared in to those of Sam's. "Please."
"I'm sorry, Sam."
And with that the gun went off. The bullet hit just below Sam's heart and instanly blood started to flow. Sam's shocked expression lasted only a second before it contorted into pure agony. He lifted his head to the skies and a cloud of black smoke shot out of his mouth, leaving his body to find another poor helpless soul. Once it was over, Sam swayed and collapsed into Dean's waiting arms. The gun clattered to the ground. Dean fell to this knees from the weight. Sam cried out in pain and clutched at his wounded chest. Dean rocked Sam back and forth, soothing his pain and fear while trying to control his own.
Dean flew to a sitting position, a choked sob breaking his dreams and bringing him back to reality. His heart ached. There was no way to ignore it.
Instinctively Dean looked over for another bed; but there, of course, wasn't another bed for another person to occupy. Another sob broke the silence. A broken sob that held so much pain and suffering and loss. It hurt just to breath, to even think. He couldn't smile anymore; it hurt too much because he knew that there would never be a reason to smile again. Sam was gone and Dean was losing it. His sanity was slipping. HIs "tough guy" exterior was long gone. A nice looking girl couldn't even hold his attention. All he could think about was Sam. All he could do was sit there, day by day, and miss his brother so much that he thought he would die from the pain.
Suddenly a bright light began shine. Dean shielded his eyes and hastily got out of bed. He grabbed his knife from under the pillow and was ready to fight, tears or not.
"Dean."
Dean thought he must've been hearing things because that voice sounded just like Sam's sweet voice. Dean dropped the knife as the bright light soon faded, outlining the silohuette of someone's body. "Who are you?" he asked in scared and broken voice that didn't even sound like his.
"It's me, Dean. Sam."
The shadowed body stepped out of the light. Tall, curly chestnut hair, hazel eyes. It was Sam. Dean stuttered and Sam just chuckled. "But, Sam. You're dead. How...h-how can you be hear?"
"I'm an angel, Dean." Sam said and took a few steps towards his frightened brother.
Dean reached a hand out and all he met was air. Sam smiled and Dean thought he would die from the happiness that suddenly filled him up. "God, Sam. I'm so sorry." Dean cried and he finally broke. His chest tightened with the force of the sobs. His knees met the carpet and he covered his face with his hands. The tears flowed like rivers down his cheeks and for once he didn't care.
"Dean, you have to move on. Don't kill yourself because of me. Live your life and keep hunting. Or stop and start your life over. Get a job, a girlfriend. Something, anything."
"But I can't. I killed you and I can't stand it." Dean choked out. He was staring up at Sam's angelic face. Sam smiled softly. "I'm so lost, Sammy."
Sam shook his head, "Don't be. I'll always be here to protect you. I promise."
Dean felt a soft touch his face and then Sam dissappearead. "Sammy! No! Sam, come back!" he shouted into thin air. Nothing.
Despair took over and Dean just curled up in a ball in the center of the bed. He felt so helpless and so alone. The room was way too quiet. He swore he could hear his own heart beating. Sam's voice echoed in his head repeatedly. His eyes glazed over with even more tears to replace the ones that had already dried. He shivered, though it wasn't cold in the room. His eyes began to close unwillingly and soon he found himself sleeping soundly, as if he had been drugged with a heavy sedative.
Sam smiled at his brother's sleeping form. He said a silent prayer that Dean would be kept safe before dissappearing completely.
The next morning...
Early the next morning the police busted down the door. They had their weapons at the ready and were shouting orders. When nothing happened they stopped.
"Hey!" one police officer said loudly, his gun pointed at Dean's still form on the bed.
Said police officer walked over cautiously and nudged Dean in the shoulder. His eyes widened for a brief second before he turned back to the others. "He's dead."
It was true. Dean's heart had broken so much that his body couldn't stan it anymore. His body gave out and he just let himself go. He greeted Sam with a happy smile afterwards.
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so what do ya think? i thought the ending wasnt so good but oh well lol
