A/N: I know I have a lot of projects on my plate (Sins of the Father, not to mention a fic I am working on for the Title Fic Exchange) but this one just doesn't want to leave me alone. I was listening to Shinedown's "Shed Some Light" and it prompted me to look up some Supernatural videos on Youtube. I was surprised that there were only two posted, both by the same user, with less than eighty views between them. Her username is batgirlshaz, and I suggest checking them out if you like. Anyway, after watching these videos, I began to realize just how perfect this song is for Sam, especially during his demon blood addiction. But it can also be very fitting for Dean, as well, especially considering the events of the past season. So I decided to write a little something based on these videos. Giving credit to batgirlshaz for the idea. Title from Shinedown's "Shed Some Light," lyrics by Brent Smith. No copyright infringement intended.

Tell Me Something I'll Believe

Sam sits alone in the cheap motel he should be sharing with his brother, his calloused fingers running gently across the sharp edges of his dagger. Dean's words are haunting him, words uttered weeks ago, but still hurting, poisoning his soul like an infected wound.

It means you're a monster.

Dean's right, of that Sam is certain. He has placed his trust not in his brother, his own flesh and blood, but a demon; a creature known for lies, manipulation, pain and filth. But Sam isn't sure that his brother's hurtful (but truthful) words are causing the intense pain and grief. It's the look of sadness, hurt, confusion and loss in Dean's eyes that is gnawing at him. A lack of trust he has never felt in his life.

I'm falling apart again

And I can't find a way to make amends.

There's nothing he can do to regain Dean's trust. And Sam isn't even sure he deserves to regain that trust. His actions, regardless of any good intentions, were selfish. He relished in the power his addiction had provided, the need for the fix outweighing the fact that, deep down, Sam knew that what he was doing was wrong.

It's for the greater good, he tells himself, almost believing the lies. It will be worth it in the end. Dean will understand.

It's innocence within the maze

But I have chosen the wrong way.

Sam closes his eyes, a single tear squeezing from beneath the lids. He's lost his brother; perhaps for good. Can he really go on like this, the guilt of his actions haunting him? If he were that kind of person, he would have killed himself already. But as angry as Dean is now, Sam knows that his death would break him. And he will never do that to his brother; he's done enough damage.

Sam sighs, slides the weapon under his pillow. He lies down, trying to fall asleep and seeing only the look of horror in his brother's eyes as Lilith dies, breaking the final seal. He remains awake for hours, replaying the moment over and over again, like a broken record. And finally, when he finally succumbs to sleep a few hours before dawn, Sam dreams of before, when he and his older brother fought side by side, the Winchester Brothers against the world.

He sleeps with a smile on his face and tears running down his cheeks.

XXX

Dean sits on his bed in the bunker, a closed tome on demon lore still in his hands. He still isn't quite familiar with the strange mark on his arm, the one controlling him like a marionette from some hellish puppet show. And yet, as frightening as these new urges should make him, Dean is indifferent. For what are a few outbursts of anger when the brother you have sworn to protect since infancy declared that he would let him die? That the bond they have shared is gone?

I remember the way I fell from above

There's no sense of trust, there's no definition of love.

Dean looks down at the lore book, lets it fall to the floor. He knows that he's a poison to whomever he touches. Everyone he has loved, has cared for, has died, and at his own cost: his father; Ellen and Jo Harvelle; Kevin…. Dean squeezes his eyes closed, trying to block out the image of the young prophet dying in this very bunker. He understands how Sam feels guilty about Kevin's death, even though Dean knows better. The young prophet's blood is on his hands, and never his younger brother's.

Dean sighs as he wipes a tear with the back of his hand, eyes straying to the Mark on his right arm. Does Sam even care of his brother's fate? Would he even deserve that care? Fighting back the tears which still threaten to spill, Dean lies on his bed, slides his headphones over his ears, and cranks Zeppelin as loud as he dares, trying desperately to block the emptiness. Eventually the music ends and Dean falls asleep, dreaming of before, when he and his younger brother fought side by side, the Winchester Brothers against the world.

He sleeps with a smile on his face and tears running down his cheeks.