Hello everyone! So this is a little oneshot that I've been thinking of for a while. This is my most favorite scene in all of Supernatural, and I keep thinking, what did Dean see? Enjoy!

xxxxx

Dean glanced at the GPS tracker on his phone and then glanced around at the abandoned building the Impala was nearing.

"Ah, this can't be good," he thought out loud worriedly. Damnit Sam, please be ok.

Dean pulled to a stop by the door, next to a parked truck with the headlights still on. Frowning, he stepped out of the car and closed the door, looking around to make sure there was no other danger to worry about. Where the hell is this? he thought confusedly. He checked behind his back again, and then walked to the door determinedly. Sammy, I'm coming.

"Sam?" he called out as he entered the warehouse. "Sam!" He took another step forward and saw his little brother, alone in the middle of the building, breathing heavily, holding his gun out, and looking incredibly vulnerable. Dean continued forward to his brother, immediately registering that something was very wrong. Sam kept breathing agitatedly, and he stared at Dean as if he was looking through him. Does he not recognize me? Dean thought. "Sam, what're you doing?" Dean asked worriedly as he saw his brother turn his head to the left for a while and then back to him. Dean glanced around the building, seeing that they were truly alone, only to turn back to see his little brother quickly point his gun at him.

"Woah, woah!" Dean cried, throwing his hands up in front of him. Sammy, it's me. It's me, damnit!

Sam looked at him with wide, frightened eyes. "I thought I was with you," he told Dean, confused.

"Ok," Dean replied slowly. Be calm, help him calm down. "Well, here I am," he said reassuringly.

"No," Sam whispered, his gun still pointed steadily. "No, I – I don't, I…" He trailed off, unsure, and Dean saw him glance to his left again at something Dean could not see. Sam turned back to him, and said shakily, "I can't know that for sure. You understand me?"

Dean looked at his brother. No, no I don't. Come back, Sammy. I can't lose you to this. "Ok," he replied with what he hoped was reassuring confidence. What the hell should I do? "Then we're gonna have to start small," he heard himself say. Come on, Sam. Think back to where you were before.

Dean watched his brother lost in his own train of wild thoughts. "I don't remember driving here," Sam realized. Then he turned again to stare at the wall, his eyes landing upon something invisible that seemed to distress him more. What the hell are you seeing? Dean wondered worriedly.

Suddenly, without warning, Sam, with his entire body trembling with fear, pointed his gun at the wall and fired.

The gun flared a hot orange and the sound shook Dean out of his reverie. "Woah, woah!" Dean yelled, jumping back out of shock. Upon hearing his voice, Sam turned his gun back on his older brother. "Sam!" Dean cried, deciding he needed to figure out a way to end this fast. I need another tactic. I can't lose him, I can't. I gotta do something, I can't just watch him lose his sanity right in front of me. "This discussion does not require a weapon's discharge!" Get him to put the gun down, Dean thought rapidly. Don't let him hurt himself.

Sam lowered it a fraction of an inch, his eyes racing as he tried futilely to understand what was going on. This is my chance. Don't screw up. Come on, Dean, be there for your brother. Help him! "Look at me," Dean said quietly, cautiously stepping towards Sam. Look at me, Sam, look, it's me! "Come on," Dean whispered encouragingly. Sam continued to breathe heavily, but his hand started to droop towards the ground, which Dean took as a good sign. "You don't know what's real?" Dean asked him. Sam looked so much like a scared little kid, it made Dean's heart break. Reassure him, bring him back, come on! "Man, I've been to hell," Dean started to say knowingly. "Ok? I know a thing or two about torture." This is worse than anything I had to go through in hell, so I can't imagine what it must be like for you. He didn't say any of that, but kept plowing through. Stick to what you know. You're the big brother. "Enough to know that it feels different." Sam shook his head, staring at Dean, but Dean kept going. It's gotta be different, you gotta be able to tell, Sam, or what will I do? "Than the pain of this – this –" Dean looked around him, and suddenly he hated his life. He hated his fate, he hated hell, he hated how Cas had betrayed them and was gone, and most of all, he hated that he had to watch his brother, his younger, agonizingly taller, nerdy, loving, and geeky brother, go through so much pain. Keep going. Keep going, for Sammy. "Regular, stupid, crappy, this," he finished.

Sam was unconvinced, though. "No, no, how can you know that for sure?" he asked uncertainly, his eyes still wide. He's listening, Dean thought with relief. Prove it, he's in your reach, now bring him back.

Dean pointed decidedly at Sam. "Let me see your hand," he said, holding out his own. Sam looked confusedly at his gun, but Dean said, "No, no, the gimp hand! Lemme see it." An idea had formed in his mind. Come on, Sam, trust me. Give me your hand. If this doesn't work, I don't know what will…

Sam stared at his wounded hand, looking surprised that it was even there. Dean saw Sam almost raise his arm to show him, but then Sam broke off to stare at something behind him. Dean glanced over Sam's shoulder, but there was nothing there. Damnit, whatever he's seeing, leave my brother be! This has gone on long enough, Dean thought angrily, and he grabbed Sam's hand. "Hey," Dean said, bringing Sam's attention back to him. "This is real," he said, shaking Sam's hand. "Not a year ago, not in hell, now." You'll understand this, won't you, Sammy? Tell him more, keep going. "I was with you when you cut it, I sewed it up!" Remember? Why don't you remember? When Sam still did not react, Dean decided it was time to dive headfirst and rely on his last resort. "Look," he said aggressively, and Dean pressed down on Sam's wound. It hurt him to do it, but he had to. Sam's gun tried to find its way up, but Dean impatiently held it down. You gotta break away from this, Sammy. Now. For me. Sam let out a big breath in pain, glancing up at something behind Dean's head. I'm not gonna look, Dean decided. Sammy, you look at me. Me, damnit. "This is different." Dean stated. He stared into Sammy's eyes, looking for understanding, but Sam was staring off behind him, panting heavily. Dean relentlessly pressed down on Sam's hand harder, saying desperately, "Right? Than the crap that's tearing at your walnut? I'm different," he continued frantically. "Right?" This was all he could do. Come on, Sammy, tell me I'm different. Tell me you can fight these hallucinations and Lucifer and whatever other crap you're seeing. You're strong, you were always stronger than me, and if you can't do this, I don't know what I'm going to do.

Sam pulled his hand away and stared at it strangely. Dean saw his brother's mind race, before Sam came to a conclusion, and finally whispered, "Yeah, I think so." Dean's heart skipped a beat. He was so close… You still sound so broken and scared… Sammy, how did it ever come to this? But when Sam looked up and stared not at Dean, but at the someone behind him, Dean almost gave up hope. "Sammy?" he said worriedly, and he cringed when his brother suddenly squeezed his hand so hard blood spurted out of his wound. He's trying, Dean realized. He's trying, he's listening, help him come back. "Hey," Dean said, trying to get Sam to focus on him. "I am your flesh and blood, brother." Dean saw Sam glance at him, then back to the someone behind him. Make him laugh, make him smile, something anything. "I'm the only one who can legitimately kick your ass in real time," Dean claimed with the smallest chuckle, glad his voice didn't crack and betray his emotion. So close, I almost have you back, I can't lose you, not now. Dean shook away his thoughts and looked Sam straight in the eye. "You got away," he said, emphasizing each word. Sam stared at him, looking as if he couldn't understand a word of what Dean was saying. Believe me, Sammy. "We got you out, Sammy."

Sam continued to look at him, then looked back at the person behind him. His whole body shook in uncertainty, and suddenly he brought his hand back down on his wound and pressed it even harder. That must really hurt, Dean realized. It's ok, I can tend it later. After I get you back. I gotta get you back. Get out of my brother's head, Lucifer. Sam kept pressing his hand, and Dean decided he needed to say some more to not lose him.

"Believe in that!" Dean told him, his voice raised. Sam looked at him unsurely. "Believe me, ok? You gotta believe me," he said, broken, and finally the emotion came leaking through his words. Come on, Sammy, look at me! Remember me? I'm your older brother, and you're the only thing keeping me going nowadays. I can't lose you, Sammy, come on! "You gotta make it stone number one, and build on it!" Dean suddenly noticed with relief that Sam finally seemed to be understanding him. "You understand?" Dean asked, praying to all the douchebag angels out there that Sam would answer yes.

Sam nodded – still a bit dazed, but nodded nonetheless – and replied softly, "Yeah. Yeah, ok." He looked at Dean and nodded again, and Dean felt his heart begin to beat normally and his insides to unclench themselves. Sammy, he thought with relief. You're back with me. He looked at his brother; Sam's eyes were still wide, but they were trusting, trusting Dean would help him find his way out of the mess he was in.

I will Sammy, Dean thought. I will always be here for you.

xxxxxx

So, what did you think? I gotta admit, that was fun to write! I'd love your reviews! :)