Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Warnings: This story is slash, does contain mpreg and mentions of miscarriage. If this isn't what uou like to read hit the back button.

Notes: Thank you to my beta mago186

The final battle with the yellow-eyed Demon had driven them both to the point of exhaustion. It had taken an inordinate amount of effort just to get into the car and drive to the nearest motel room. Neither of them had wanted to stay with another hunter, preferring only each other's company.

The motel they were staying at looked as if it was just two steps away from being condemned. The condition of the motel didn't bother either of them. All that mattered was their room had four walls and a non-leaking roof.

Upon stepping into the motel room, salt lines had immediately been laid. Protection symbols had been drawn on all of the walls, floors and doors. Neither of them had been willing to take the risk of a demon attacking.

As usual, Dean had taken the bed closest to the door. The blade that had hours earlier been used to defend Bobby had been placed under his pillow. Dean was still fully clothed, having collapsed onto the bed after the protection symbols and salt lines had been completed.

Sam had just gone past the point of exhaustion and now he found himself unable to sleep. There wasn't a lot that he could do that wouldn't disturb Dean. He couldn't watch television or even have a shower, as that would make too much noise. The only thing he could do was sort out their bags. It wasn't going to be a pleasant task. Most of the clothes in the bags were covered in blood. That blood would have dried and as a result, most pieces of clothing would have stuck together. He opened Dean's bag and dumped the contents on the floor. Knowing that Dean had a thing for hidden compartments, he searched the empty bag for a zip or button. He found a small button and gently undid it. Reaching inside the small compartment, he found an envelope with his name on it. Ignoring the pile of unwashed clothes on the floor, he sat on his bed. Why would Dean write him a letter and never send it. What had happened for Dean to disregard his usual dislike of writing letters?

He was almost fearful of what the letter may say.

Opening the envelope, he took out the letter and began to read it.

Sam,

I don't write letters like this. I'm not the type of person who has the time to write down all his thoughts or feelings on a piece of paper. I shouldn't need to tell you things that I could only tell my own reflection. I'm a hunter that has killed things that would make most grown men weep. I don't need you to reassure me that everything will be okay. It will never be okay again, not after what has happened. I don't want you to have any power over me because of this one letter.

Is college everything you thought it would be? Have you been to any of those frat parties where girls are easy and the alcohol is free? Have you joined one of those fraternities? Do you have friends? Are they treating you well? Are you staying away from the supernatural? You had damn well better be since I'm not there to back you up. I don't want a phone call one day telling me that you're dead. I'm never going to get a phone call like that. I bet everyone thinks you're an only child and your parents are dead. That would explain why you never answered the phone when I called. It should make it easier to accept why you never came to the hospital when I phoned begging you to. It should, but none of it does. What did I do that has caused you ignore my every attempt at communication?

I'm one of those lucky men who can have kids, but I was unlucky enough to have a miscarriage. I don't need you to tell me that it's for the best. You can't know that it's for the best…even you don't have that kind of knowledge. I know that you would try and tell me that this was nature's way of taking care of things. How the fuck can this be taking care of things? It's a baby not a fucking spirit. Don't tell me that everything will be okay because nothing ever will be again. The thing is, since you are ignoring all of my attempts at contacting you, you will never know how I feel. You will never know that all I can think of is the things I will never get to do with my baby. I'll never feel the baby move inside me. I will never feel that first kick. I will never be able the take the baby for walks in the park. I will never be able to tell my baby about the hunt where I was covered in green slime by a pissed off spirit. There are just so many things I will never get to do with my baby. I don't expect you to take any notice of this letter and visit me. I don't expect you to remember that you have a brother.

I've told you about the baby and it was easier than I expected. It helped to write down words that I will never be able to speak aloud. I know I may never recover from this, but maybe that is all I deserve.

Dean

With silent robotic movements, Sam put the letter back into the envelope and back into the compartment where he found it. Unable to remain still, he got off the bed and began to pace. He wanted nothing more than to wake Dean up and demand to know about the pregnancy. It was selfish, but he wanted to know every detail of what Dean had gone through with the miscarriage. He had so many questions that he wanted answers for. He wanted to reach out and touch Dean, but found himself unable to move. All he could do was look at his brother, attempting to find any sign of the loss Dean had suffered.

Running a hand though his hair, he cast his mind back to the time when he joined Dean in the search for there missing dad. Dean had slipped back into the role of big brother with frightening ease. The banter between them hadn't changed in the years they had been apart. They had still pulled small pranks on each other and Dean had still been protective to the point of being annoying.

He had been back with Dean for nearly a year when he had made the first of many attempts to restart their relationship as lovers. Nothing he had tried worked. It was only when Dean had come out of his coma that their relationship as lovers had begun again.

Finding the courage that he thought had gone when he read the letter, he took several steps towards Dean. He sat on the edge of the bed and gently brushed his hand across Dean's left cheek.

Gently he shook the older man until he woke up.

"Five more minutes," Dean mumbled.

"Dean, we need to talk," Sam said, quashing the guilt he felt at waking an obviously exhausted Dean.