Contains dialogue from the episode 'Heart', it belongs to Eric Kripke and Sera Gamble.

Part of my Deleted Scenes series. Full list of fics in reading order available on my profile page. They will make more sense if read in order. :)


So, Dean is really, really not cool with Sam liking Madison. Not even a little bit. And yes, he knows that isn't fair. He knows he was the one who ended things between them so he really has no right to be jealous. But he still is. He's more than jealous, he's crushed. He knows he brought this on himself, but he didn't think Sam would move on quite so quickly. And he didn't end it with Sam because he wanted to, he did it because Dean's own happiness has to take a backseat to Sam's safety. He wants to be with Sam, but he can't, which just makes it even harder to see Sam interested in someone else.

The worst part is, Madison could be really good for Sam. She's too old for him, Dean's brain keeps getting stuck on that even though he knows it doesn't really matter, but other then that she seems sort of perfect. And Sam's always been drawn to people who're more mature anyway. She's self-assured and bright and lively; Sam has a tendency to retreat into himself sometimes and she seems like the kind of person who could really bring him out of his shell. In another life, anyway. Dean hates her a little bit. He wants to despise her right down to his core, but he can't go quite that far because as much as he wishes he was the thing that's finally making Sam smile again, at least Sam's smiling. It isn't ideal but it's something.

There is, of course, the fact that she's a werewolf. Or, was a werewolf. Dean doesn't like himself for it at all, but there was just a tiny little part of him that was disappointed when their plan worked and the sun came up and she hadn't turned. Not because he wanted to have to kill her – she seems like a nice enough girl and it really isn't her fault she was attacked and turned into something supernatural – but because it somehow made it okay for Sam to have feelings for her, once she was fully human again. Sam may've been attracted to her but he's still a hunter, he wouldn't have gotten involved with her if she was a monster. But she isn't anymore, they saved her like Sam wanted to so badly. And now Dean's sitting alone in their motel room, fourth beer mostly gone warm in his hand, while Sam's still over at Madison's place doing … well, Dean has a good enough idea of what they're doing to know he doesn't want to think about it too hard.

He's never really been in this position before. When they were younger, it was always him out until all hours of the night with some girl while Sam waited back in whatever dump Dad had stuck them in so he could chase shadows and revenge fantasies. Dean knew Sam never really liked it – first because he was just bored being left all alone and then later because he'd started to feel about Dean the way Dean already felt about him but was too terrified to admit – but Dean never realized it felt like this. It hurts like hell, knowing Sam's out there getting from Madison what Dean won't give him anymore; knowing that despite everything the two of them had together, Dean's still that easily replaceable by a pretty smile and long hair and soft curves.

He knows it's his fault, but that doesn't make it any easier. He's starting to think it might be giving him an ulcer. Dean pops the tab on the second last can from the six back and downs in it two long drags. It's a damn good thing the liquor store is within walking distance, because Dean's definitely going to need something stronger than Budweiser if he's going to forget about Sam enough to get some sleep.

Dean still stands by the decision to end things between them, but deep inside where even he doesn't let himself go that often, it's killing him. He did it because it was the right thing to do, not because he wanted it. Every time he looks at Sam or hears his voice or is even in the same room as him, he feels that pull, the magnetic energy he's felt since long before he should have. He's drawn to Sam so powerfully he almost can't help it – like Sam really does have some kind of gravity that drags Dean in whether he wants it or not. It seems almost pointless that Dean's even bothering to resist, seems like no matter what he does at some point they'll end up back the way they were because neither of them have ever been strong enough to fight it. But it's for the best, he knows it is, and sometimes the whole reason something is for the best is because it isn't the easier choice. The most important thing has to be protecting Sammy; saving him from whatever it is Dad tried to warn them about, and Dean can't do that if his head isn't completely in it. He'd never forgive himself if he let something happen to Sam because he was too busy lusting after him to keep him safe.

He is going to save Sam, regardless of what Sam thinks about it. Dean doesn't know how many more times he can insist on that before Sam will finally start to believe him – and he doesn't know how much longer he can last with Sam not believing him until Dean starts to doubt it himself. He's so absolutely certain that he'll be able to find some way to help Sam because that and hunting are the only things Dean's ever been good at, and the fact that Sam doesn't believe him or believe in him hurts more than Dean wants to admit.

And then, underneath how much he wishes Sam were here with him instead of out with her, there's the part of Dean that's almost happy Sam found somebody else. It's the part of him that's never really believed he deserved Sam in the first place, and it's a tiny corner of Dean's mind that he almost never lets out into the light because it hurts too much to even acknowledge it's existence. Dean's always felt greedy for what he had with Sam – like he was taking something from him; stealing his chance to be happy, to be normal, which is something Sam still wants even if he won't admit it. So maybe, in the end, this will be a good thing. Sam's always been meant for more than being a hunter, and he got dragged back into it because Dean was needy and selfish, but it shouldn't be a life-sentence. Sam's like a ray of light and Dean is just darkness, always pulling him down and trying, even if he doesn't mean to, to extinguish the brightness that somehow still exists inside Sam after all this time.

So he'll keep them apart, even if it hurts every time he wants to touch Sam but doesn't. Every time Sam comes out of the shower or finishes working out and he's flushed and damp and Dean wants to lick every inch of him but holds back. Every close call, when Dean aches to grab Sam and kiss him until he remembers that they're both still alive, but instead just digs his fingernails into his palms and tries to put it out of his mind. Every night when Dean goes to bed alone and Sam's only across the room but it might as well be miles. It's miserable, but it's what Dean has to do. And really, he's no stranger to sacrificing pieces of himself for Sam. He's been doing it since Sam was born, and he's not sure he knows how to stop anymore.


"I don't remember anything," Madison says dejectedly. "I probably killed someone last night, didn't I?"

"There's no way to know yet," Dean answers quietly.

"Is there something else we can try? To make it go away?"

It's on the tip of Dean's tongue to tell her there isn't, but then Sam interrupts.

"We'll find something. I mean, there's gotta be some answer. Somewhere."

"That's not entirely true." It makes Dean feel sick to have to say it, but it isn't fair to get her hopes up. Or Sam's. "Madison, you deserve to know. We've scoured every source. There's just no cure."

She frowns and looks over at Sam. "Is he right?"

Sam doesn't answer. He just clenches his jaw and stands up, turning away from both of them. He looks seconds away from breaking down and it hurts deep in Dean's chest to see him like that.

"We could lock you up at night, but you could bust out. Some night you will, someone else dies. I'm sorry. I am."

Madison nods, sniffing as a few tears roll down her cheeks. "So I guess that's all there is to it then."

"Stop it," Sam says suddenly. "Don't talk like that."

"Sam, I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you." She picks the gun up off the table and walks over to him. She's taking it a lot better than Dean thought she would – better than Dean probably would be if he was in her situation – and that makes it worse. She really does seem like an amazing person, and this shouldn't be happening to her. Or to Sam.

"Put that down."

"I can't do it myself. I need you to help me," she pleads, but Sam just says, "Madison, no."

"Sam, I'm a monster," she whispers.

"You don't have to be!" Sam insists. "We can find away, alright? I can. I'm gonna save you."

"You tried. I know you tried. This is all there is left. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you."

"I can't," Sam grinds out. Even from across the room, Dean hears the waver it his voice and it's like lead in his stomach. It shouldn't be ending this way. Somehow Dean should have been able to protect Sam from this.

"I don't wanna die," Madison says tearfully. "I don't. But I can't live like this. This is the way you can save me. Please, I'm asking you to save me."

Sam just shakes his head, his eyes swimming with tears he hasn't let fall yet, and Dean can't take it anymore. He walks over to them and gently takes the gun out of Madison's hand. He knows this is the only way, even if he's not happy about it, but Sam shouldn't have to do it. After Jessica, after everything, it isn't fair to make Sam do this. Sam looks up at him over the top of Madison's head, and then he walks away like he can't look at either of them anymore. Dean follows him automatically, and he wishes, more than anything, that they were still together so he could pull Sam into his arms. Although, Dean realizes, if they were still together Sam would never have been with Madison in the first place, and then this wouldn't be so hard. Another thing to add to the list of things that are all Dean's fault.

Sam leans against the wall, and Dean gives him a minute but then he says his brother's name softly, and the look on Sam's face when he turns around is the most heartbreaking thing Dean's ever seen.

"I'm sorry," Dean says.

"No, you're right." Tears spill down Sam's cheeks and his voices shakes as he forces the words out. "She's right."

"Sammy, I got this one. I'll do it."

"She asked me to."

"You don't have to."

"Yes I do," Sam argues. Dean can't remember the last time he saw Sam cry like this. Not since they were both kids. His face is twisted up with the pain and he looks all of about six years old, and it hurts a lot more than Dean would've thought. Even worse because there's nothing he can do to fix it.

Sam reaches a hand out for the gun and says, "Please."

Dean doesn't want to, doesn't want Sam to have to do this, but he hands Sam the gun anyway. He never was very good at saying no to Sam, especially not when he looks like he does now. He brushes his fingers over Sam's just for a second when they meet, but the touch doesn't make him feel any better and it probably doesn't make Sam feel better either.

"Just wait here," Sam says. He starts to walk away, but he looks back just for a moment, and his face shiny with tears cuts Dean right to his core.

The air is so thick Dean feels like he can't breathe while he waits. The pressure just behind his sternum makes it feel like his heart might actually be breaking, and there's nothing he wants more right now than to just take Sam back to their motel room and shove him onto the closest bed and kiss him until he remembers how to smile again, but he can't do any of that. A tear rolls down his own cheek just before the gunshot slices through the silence, and Dean doesn't even try to stop it.

Madison's on the ground when Dean goes back into the living room, her eyes blank and unseeing and blood pooling from the wound in her chest, and Sam's just standing there with his eyes closed and his shoulders shaking. Dean aches for him, but he pushes it away because one of them needs to keep their game face on and it isn't going to be Sam. Dean crosses the room and takes the gun from his brother's hand, curling his fingers around Sam's elbow and shaking his arm a little.

"C'mon, we gotta move," he says, regretfully.

"Just … Dean," is all Sam seems to be able to say, staring down at Madison's lifeless body as tears pour down his face.

"Sam, we have to go," Dean says a little bit firmer. Sam reaches out and Dean steps in front of him to keep him from leaning down to touch her. "No, you can't. We have to get outta here."

"Dean," Sam says again, louder.

"No!"

"We can't just leave her like this!" Sam cries, trying his best to push past Dean but Dean holds his ground.

"We have to. Sammy, we have to!" he insists, leaning his shoulder into Sam's chest and shoving him back a few steps.

"We gotta take her with us!"

"Are you crazy? We can't take a body with us, we'd never make it out of the building!"

"She deserves to be put to rest, Dean!"

"She will be!"

Sam's still struggling and not listening to him so Dean does the only thing his jumbled brain-cells can come up with – he slaps Sam across the face. Sam jumps a little, startled, but it throws him off just enough for Dean to pin him against the wall.

"Sam, she will be," Dean says firmly, forcing Sam to look at him. "She has a family, right? She'll be buried, she'll have a funeral and everything, I promise you. You gotta snap out of this. You just fired a gun in an apartment, the cops are probably already on their way! We have to go, okay?"

Even though he still looks more upset than Dean thinks he's ever seen him, Sam's eyes slip back into focus just a little bit and it looks like maybe he finally heard Dean. He nods, and when Dean heads towards the bedroom so they can take the fire escape, Sam follows him.

Sam's completely silent on the way back to the motel except for sniffling and the occasional shaky exhale, and Dean has to shut himself down completely to avoid dissolving into tears right along with Sam. They stop at the room Dean slept in alone last night just long enough to pick up their belongings – Dean shoves clothes and weapons and Dad's journal into his bag while Sam just stands there looking miserable. Dean knows he shouldn't, he knows it'll only make everything that much harder, but he can't help crossing the room and pulling Sam into his arms. Sam doesn't hug him back but he doesn't resist either – dropping his head down onto Dean's shoulder and crying through the fabric of his jacket. Dean presses his lips together and blinks quickly against the burning behind his eyes, whispering again that he's sorry and petting through Sam's hair for just a minute before he leads Sam back to the Impala and puts San Francisco in the rearview mirror.

And he was right, being that close to Sam again did make everything harder.