Author's Note: I've been thinking about this story for months now. I posted the prompt to OhSam and when no one took it, I knew I had to write it. I'm a sucker for Mystery Spot fics. Please enjoy! Trigger warning for self-harm and suicidal thoughts.

"With each passing moment I'm becoming part of the past. There is no future for me, just the past steadily accumulating."

― Haruki Murakami

It was the heat of the moment.

He opens his eyes to see the same dull off-white ceiling he's seen for months now and from his side, he hears his brother putting on his boots. In a few seconds, he'll say:

"Rise and shine, Sammy!" With the same bright smile that Sam's been hoarding in the dark recesses of his mind so that when the time comes that his brother inevitably dies—because Dean will die today no matter what Sam does to try and save him—he'll be able to picture that carefree grin before the loop starts all over again and he ends up back in this same lumpy bed with the same horrible song blaring on the radio.

Sam sits up, nods to his brother before he heads to the bathroom. On the walk there, he catalogs the numerous objects that could kill his brother. Two outlets with a lamp plugged in—death by electrocution. A glass beer bottle lying on the floor—death by skull fracture. Nothing in this room is safe and all of it could, theoretically, be used to cause his brother's death.

Closing the bathroom door behind him, Sam lets his gaze drift to the mirror. He always looks the same as this loop started, though deep down, the youngest Winchester feels exhausted to the bone and sick at his core. How long could he go on like this? How many more days could he see the lights in his brother's eyes go out before he finally snapped?

He could kill himself. It's a thought that's occurred to him before. He hasn't tried anything yet, but if he was forced to live through this time loop, then ending his life might break the cycle. Though knowing his luck, the gun would probably miss him completely and kill his brother instead.

No. He has to be sure before he does something that rash.

The mirror is smooth under his hand's touch and without thinking, Sam pulls his hand back and forms a fist. Pouring all his grief and anger into that fist, he punches the mirror, barely feeling the glass cutting into his hand. Blood rolls down from his knuckles and drips onto the floor.

"Sam?" Dean calls from the bed, voice cautious. "Everything okay in there?"

"Yeah." Sam lies because he's spent 40 Tuesdays convincing Dean that they're in a time loop and each time, his brother thought he was crazy or the few times he believed Sam, the realization had come too late to save Dean. What is the point in continuing this charade? Why did Sam expend the energy to get out of bed when he knew that no matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, Dean was just going to end up dead in his arms?

"That looks pretty bad." A voice casually remarks and Sam stiffens because he knows that voice. He spins around to see the Trickster leaning against the wall, a bemused expression gracing his face. And suddenly, the all-consuming rage is back with a vengeance and injured hand or not, Sam's got the Trickster pinned against the bathroom wall, one hand around his neck. "Hey, hey!"

"You." Sam hisses through clenched teeth. "Let me out of this loop!"

"Can't do that yet." The Trickster replies and then with a snap of his fingers, he materializes behind the youngest Winchester. "I will say this though. You look pretty good for someone that's spent months living the same day over and over again." The Trickster smirks. "By the way, happy birthday."

That catches Sam off-guard. The fight drains out of him quickly.

"It's been that long?" He murmurs.

"It has." The Trickster confirms, his smile dissolving into a frown. His eyes becoming unreadable with some sort of hidden pain and it's like he's a different entity now with how somber he's become in a matter of seconds. "Look, Sam."

Sam waits; the Trickster's voice falters.

"If you aren't going to let me out, then just go." Part of him knows that this is his chance to get his freedom, but if today is his birthday, then he's been in this loop a lot longer than he had anticipated.

"Today, you're out."

Sam freezes as the words reach his ears.

"What did you just say?" The youngest Winchester breathes.

"From now until midnight tonight," The Trickster emphasizes. "I'm giving you a free day. Have fun with your brother. He won't die today."

"You're serious?"

The trickster nods his head.

"But why?" Sam presses, a mixture of relief and desperation surging through his veins, because could this really be happening to him? Could he really have one day where everything with Dean was normal?

At his question, the jovial demeanor of the Trickster returns.

"Why indeed." He echoes with a small smile tugging at his lips before fading away.

Sam just stands there, stunned.

"Sam, what are you—?" The door of the bathroom creaks open and Dean saunters in and before the youngest brother can jerk his hand out of view, his older brother grabs it and holds it securely in his grip. "Jesus, Sam, what did the mirror do to you, huh?"

"Sorry." He whispers and Dean chuckles dryly.

"It's fine." His brother replies, grabbing a towel and not slipping on the puddle of blood on the floor which, on any other Tuesday, would've killed him right there. With wide eyes, Sam watches as Dean cleans the wound and then bandages it, all without killing himself.

Was this really happening?

"What?" Dean questions. "I have something on my face or something?"

"No." Sam answers quickly, realizing that he'd been gaping at his brother. "It's just . . ." A grin alights on his own lips and for the first time since this whole thing began, happiness blooms within him. "I'm glad."

"Yeah?" His brother's voice leaves it open for further discussion, but that's the last thing Sam wants to do.

"Yeah." He murmurs.

"Good." Dean breathes as he rips off the last piece of bandage.

"Dean, let's get in the car and just drive." It's a sudden thought because if Dean can't die until midnight then maybe they can get out of this godforsaken town and then the loop will break. It's never been an option before—usually either getting into the car or starting the ignition led to Dean being killed—but it could be one now. "Never looking back, just us chasing the horizon."

Worry enters his brother's green eyes.

"And the case?" He ventures; Sam quickly shakes his head.

"Forget the case. Trust me, it doesn't pan out to be anything—"

"This isn't like you." Dean states, as he ushers them out of the bathroom. Nudging Sam towards the edge of the bed nearest the door, Dean takes a seat on his bed, eyes locked on Sam's. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Dean raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "You never want to just drive, Sam. And you sure as hell never want to abandon a case."

"I want to today." He whispers, running his uninjured hand through his hair. "Please, Dean, I need you to trust me."

"You know I do." His brother assures him, leaning in. "But Sam, this isn't like you." Then, in a softer voice. "This is about the deal, isn't it?"

"The deal?" He echoes because fuck, he hasn't thought about the deal in what feels like an eternity. It's hard to think about your brother going to Hell in a few months when he keeps dying everyday. "No. It isn't."

"You would tell me if it was?"

"Of course, Dean."

They sit there in silence—Dean thinking on their next course of action and Sam memorizing every feature of his brother so that if getting out of town wouldn't fix this loop, he'd still have this memory to keep him sane.

"Alright." His older brother finally tells him, a small smile tugging at his lips. "If this is what you really want."

"It is." Sam whispers, tears pricking his eyes and he pinches himself, the pain cutting through the emotion because Dean can't know about the loop or the Trickster or anything like that.

Today, Sam just wants to be normal.

"Then," The keys jingle as Dean pulls them out. "Let's go."

They drive on a dirt road with the windows rolled down and Metallica blasting from the speakers. Dean's singing off-key and Sam can't stop laughing enough to join in on the chorus. It's funny; Sam had been so sure that moments like these could never happen again. Yet, here he is, sitting shotgun with his big brother on the road to nowhere in particular.

"You hungry yet?" Dean's stomach rumbles an answer and Sam nods his assent. He'd been so keen on leaving town this morning that he hadn't allowed Dean to head to the local diner for fear of another pig-in-a-poke disaster. They'd been driving ever since and now as the sun blazed above them, Sam can't help but wonder if he's free. He'd expected to never make it out of town, yet here he is—free.

Dean pulls off the dirt road and changes direction towards the main road. In ten minutes, they're driving through another small town with the same nondescript buildings that they've seen in countless other states.

"There's a dinner up there." His big brother announces as he pulls into a parking lot and Sam watches with wide eyes as Dean manages to safely park and then get out of the car. If—when he got out of this loop, Sam swears he'll never take things like that for granted again. "Hey." Dean meets his gaze once more. "You coming?"

"Yeah!" Sam quickly scrambles out of the car, managing to trip in the process. He's about to collide head first with the sidewalk when a strong arm pulls him up.

"Damn giraffe legs," Dean teases lightly. "You're such a klutz because of them." He laughs and it's a sound that Sam savors. It's been so long since he's heard his brother laugh. But, he does his best not to gape and follows Dean into the dinner. They grab a booth with plush seats near the back and the matronly waitress greets them warmly and laughs at Dean's flirting and when their food comes, Dean teases him about his salad and Sam watches as his brother manages to devour his burger without choking himself.

It's a perfect moment.

"So?" His brother asks, wiping his mouth with thin napkin.

"So?" The youngest Winchester echoes, placing his fork down on his plate.

"You going to tell me what's got you so spooked?" Dean replies, his gaze growing serious. "You've never wanted to run before, not even when your life was on the line, but one case at this Mystery Spot and you bolt."

"Nothing is wrong—"

"Bullshit." The eldest Winchester growls. "Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not." Sam retorts.

"You're still doing it."

"Am not!" He hisses, anger simmering within him.

"Sam, man, look, it's okay to run, but you need to tell me why—!"

"Because you'll die today, that's why!"

The other patrons in the dinner glance over at him and immediately, Sam rises from his chair and storms out. The air is crisp and as the wind blows through his hair, he feels some semblance of calm come over him. The door jingles a few moments later and he hears Dean's familiar footfalls as his brother comes to stand next to him.

"You won't believe me if I told you."

Dean scoffs.

"Try me."

And with a sigh, Sam begins to tell the tale from the beginning.

They grab a motel room not too far from the dinner and Sam goes through the motions of putting down the salt lines while Dean talks in a sharp tone with Bobby. It's pointless though—Sam called Bobby back when the loop first started—as the gruff hunter as no information on how to get the two of them out of the loop.

The door slams as Dean walks back in and Sam turns away from the window, placing the container of salt on the bed.

"No luck." He doesn't state it as a question because he knows the answer to this.

"You've tried this already?" Dean breathes and Sam nods his head.

"It was the first thing I thought of." Then, bitterly. "You died while I was on the phone though." Dean waits and Sam grimaces. "You, uh, tripped on a puddle. Cracked your head open on the cement."

A moment of shocked silence.

"How many Tuesdays have you been through?"

Sam's response is instantaneous.

"Too many."

"Look, we'll figure something out—"

"You've said that before." The youngest Winchester mutters. "The deal with the Trickster lasts until midnight." He glances at the clock—8:00pm—then shakes his head sadly. "Unless we can figure something out by then—"

"Sam, look at me." He does so, meeting fiery green eyes. "You and me, we can do this."

Sam wants to believe him, but he's been through too many Tuesdays to get his hopes up now. He'll be cautiously optimistic, but he can't help but admit that with every minute that passes, his optimism grows.

"Dean." His voice falters. He isn't sure what he's trying to convey, but his brother nods his head and a small smile spreads across Sam's lips.

Maybe they could do this.

"Let's get to work then." There's a pile of books to get through if they want to have a shot at fixing this by midnight. It's a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless and Sam wants this more than anything.

"Yeah."

He sits and begins to read, hoping that time will be the one where he'll get that crucial bit of information that he needs to break this cycle once and for all.

"Sam."

11:50.

"I can't do this again." He refuses to look away from his book because having this time with time has rekindled the drive in him to break the loop. The answer has to be right in front of him somewhere. He just has to find it!

"Sam, look at me."

He's seen Dean die so many times before. How would he die tonight? A heart attack maybe? That would be a new one.

"Sammy." It's the inflection in his brother's voice that gets him to put the book down and face his older brother. An easygoing grin rests on Dean's face and Sam wants to cry and scream at the same time. "It's going to be okay."

"You're going to die, Dean—"

"You're smarter than this Trickster, Sammy." His brother beams with pride. "You'll find a way to beat this bastard."

"And if I can't—"

"You can." Dean insists. "You just can't give up." Then, something unreadable enters his older brother's green eyes. "You're stronger than me, you know."

"How's that?" Sam whispers, glancing at the clock.

11:55.

"I saw you die once," His voice is tinged with grief and is thick with emotion. "And I nearly put a bullet in my brain then."

"Dean—" The eldest Winchester had never spoken of that night or the hours before Sam's resurrection and the youngest Winchester hadn't the nerve to ask. He hadn't, for some reason, thought that it had been that bad for Dean. Yet, experiencing Dean's death over and over again didn't diminish the grief that Sam felt each time he saw his brother's eyes glass over.

"To see you die everyday for months, I couldn't handle it." Dean confesses.

"And you think I can?" Sam snaps, rising from the table. "If it meant ending this loop and keeping you alive, I would die—"

"Don't you dare say that!" His brother roars and suddenly, there are only a few inches of space between them. "Don't you say that. You have to live, Sam." Tears glisten in his eyes. "No matter what, you understand?"

"Dean—" Sam glances away.

11:58.

"Listen to me, okay?" His brother appears back in his line of sight. "You can do this. I believe in you and sure, it might seem like it's hopeless, but you can beat this Trickster."

"You mean that?" Sam breathes.

"Do you even have to ask?"

11:59.

"I'll save you." He murmurs and Dean smiles softly.

"I know you will."

Midnight.

For a brief moment, nothing happens.

Sam beams as he embraces his brother because he had been right. All they had needed to do was get out of the town and now, it was all okay and they were going to be just fine—

And that's when the ceiling collapses on them.

It was the heat of the moment.

He opens his eyes and sees the same dull off-white ceiling. From his side, he hears Dean rustling with his boots. Sitting up, he faces his brother and breathes a sigh of relief to see that his older brother is alive once again.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sam nods his head and runs a hand through his hair. It's frustrating to be trapped in this loop, but spending a day with Dean alive reminded him of what was on the line. His older brother believed in him and needed him to break the cycle. Sam would save him and then, once they got out of here, the demon deal would be next.

"You look happy this morning." Dean comments. "Good dream?"

"You could say that." Sam replies, standing from the bed. "Dean?"

"Hmmm?" His brother pauses in tying his laces and meets his gaze with a puzzled expression.

"Thanks."

It's clear that Dean has no idea what he's being thanked for, but he nods his head.

"Anytime, Sammy."

Yeah, Sam could make it out of here. He wasn't going to let a Trickster defeat him. He would save Dean.

That's a promise.

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it! I had a blast writing it. Please review if you have a moment. Thanks!