Author: Ashley

Rating: K plus, simply for some swearing!

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I can dream. Oh, don't own the song either!

Summary: Dean thinks things are falling back into place, realizing just how wrong he is one late night at a bar. Angsty!Brothers

Note: Post Lazarus Rising. I hope you enjoy it. It really was a spur of the moment sort of thing that I wrote in under an hour. It has not been betaed, so all mistakes are my own.

His Burden to Carry

Everything almost feels normal again. They're sitting in a smoky, dimly lit tavern, it's a fairly quite night – a few burly men are crowded around a lone pool table, a few more patrons are scattered throughout the small space. A jukebox is playing in a dark corner and Sam sits hunched on his barstool, playing with the circle of condensation his beer leaves on table.

Dean's at the pool table and stocking up on some much needed funds. He's grinning, and shooting wisecracks at his opponent, wearing his old leather jacket – amulet hanging out over his shirt as if it had never left. It's been a week since he returned from Hell, and he acts like he was never there it begin with.

As if Sam hadn't spent four tortured months on his own.

As if he hadn't endured the horrors of going to Hell and surviving it with his sanity intact.

The Winchester brothers had fallen back into their old routine – searching for hunts, hustling pool, Dean gorging at every available moment. Falling into their respective beds at night – Sam always the furthest away from the door.

Dean hadn't questioned Sam on what he had done in the past four months, at least, not in detail. It seemed as if his brother had made it through alright…he had survived losing his brother, hadn't gone evil on him, and had fallen back into the habit of letting Dean drive and picking the music with ease.

So yeah, to Dean everything seemed to be falling back into place. Minus of course that freaky angel Castiel, who hadn't shown up since that first night.

Glancing up at his brother, Dean grins a little before bending down to take his shot. He sinks the ball easily and is just about to go for the winning shot when the next song begins to play. He ignores the opening beats and goes for the eight ball, his cue completely missing his target when the lyrics filter through his ears.

It's all the same, only the names will change
Everyday it seems we're wasting away
Another place where the faces are so cold
I'd drive all night just to get back home

I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I'm wanted, dead or alive
Wanted, dead or alive

His head shoots up, stomach clenching painfully with memories as he seeks out his brother. Dean curses when he sees Sammy barreling towards the door, eyes wide and face drained of color. His opponent lets out a triumphant bellow as he wins the game, but Dean barely hears him.

Because the song is playing, and Sam is no longer in the bar – and Dean realizes with startling clarity that things are not normal, and haven't been since his bill had come due. He wonders if things could ever go back to the way they were as he throws down his pool cue and makes his way towards the door.

Sometimes I sleep, sometimes it's not for days
And the people I meet always go their separate ways
Sometimes you tell the day
By the bottle that you drink
And times when you're alone, when all you do is think

I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I'm wanted (Wanted), dead or alive
Wanted (Wanted), dead or alive

The song is making his eyes burn, and he swipes an arm across his face angrily. He throws open the door, cool autumn air hitting his face as he steps out into the late night. A lone streetlight is flickering feebly across from him, casting shadows onto the parking lot. The Impala sits parked in all her glory, alone and unoccupied – no little brother in sight.

Dean hurries away from the door, trying to block out the song that he can still hear– but now it's playing in his head mercilessly and won't stop. Only now the singer is different, instead of Bon Jovi he can hear himself and Sam, belting it out in car and avoiding saying goodbye.

Because there had still been a shred of hope that no goodbye's would be needed.


I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I'm wanted (Wanted), dead or alive

And I walk these streets, a loaded six string on my back
I play for keeps 'cause I might not make it back
I've been everywhere, still I'm standing tall
I've seen a million faces and I've rocked them all

'Cause I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride
I'm wanted (Wanted), dead or alive

He finds Sam around the side of the building, on his knees and puking his guts up. Even in the dim lighting, Dean can still see the tears trickling down his brother's face as he retches. He calls out his name softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he kneels down to his level.

"Had one too many." Sam says between his retching. Looking over at his brother, his green eyes wide and wet with more unshed tears, Sam begs him without words to not question him further.

"Sammy…" Dean murmurs quietly, rubbing his back and waiting for his brother to stop being sick. He feels lost, not sure what to say, not sure what to do. Sam is hurting and he doesn't know how to fix it – he always knows how to fix it. The song is still playing in his head and he swallows down the lump in his throat.

He didn't want this – didn't even think about this when he'd made the deal. Dean holds back tears of his own as realizes that he'd broken his brother; put him through his own literal Hell. I'm sorry kiddo, so sorry for doing this to you. I just wanted you back – I needed you back. Dean had only wanted to save his brother…he hadn't realized then that he was hurting him in the worst possible way.

Because fuck, if living without his brother had been worse than death for him, wouldn't the same be true for Sam? He wouldn't wish that pain on anybody, and yet he'd handed it over to his little brother without a thought. Had made it his burden to carry.

Sam is finally done, and he leans backwards into Dean's chest, still sniffling and trying poorly to disguise it. "M'sorry…" He finally mutters, eyes closed beneath sweaty bangs.

Dean's not sure what exactly his brother is apologizing for, but he has a feeling that it has nothing to with being sick at the side of an old bar. "Nothing to be sorry for, Sammy." He whispers, hand squeezing the shoulder beneath him.

"I couldn't save you."

Sam's voice breaks at the end of the sentence, and a sob escapes his throat before he can hide it. "I failed you." He adds, sounding like an innocent five year old as a few traitorous tears escape his eyes.

Dean hugs his brother closer to his chest, uncaring that this is turning into one of the biggest chick flick moments in history. "You didn't fail me, Sammy – ever. You hear me kiddo? I couldn't ask for a better brother." He says fiercely into his ear, "I knew what I was getting myself into, and it's not your fault, so stop thinking that it is."

More tears escape Sam, running down his cheeks in a flood as he cries. Dean just holds him tightly and mutters soothing words into his ears. "It's going to be okay Sammy; we're gunna get through this." We're not back to normal yet, but we will be – I swear to you.

"Promise." Dean whispers softly as he rests his chin on Sam's shaggy head.

"We're gunna be okay." He repeats, and when Sam nods his head against his chest in response, Dean truly believes it. The song is still running through his head as he closes his eyes and keeps his arms wrapped around his baby brother – determined to show Sam that he's back and by his side, no matter what.

And I'm a cowboy, I got the night on my side
And I'm wanted (Wanted), dead or alive

And I ride (And I ride) dead or alive
I still ride (I still ride) dead or alive
Dead or alive
Dead or alive
Mmm, dead or alive
Dead or alive

Finis

Well there it is! I'm not to sure about the ending (shrugs), but you can do the judging. Feedback is of course always appreciated! Enjoy tonight's episode everyone!

XoXo,

sUnKiSsT

Ps. Sorry about the random title – seriously couldn't think of one!