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Disclaimer: I don't own them. I can't even afford to rent them!

A/N: I can't take any credit for this idea. I got it from one of the members of the Yahoo group, Supernatural_on_the _WB. Check us out; we're a lot of fun.

I hope this does her idea justice; reviews are welcome.

oooOOOooo

More than anything else, I believe it's our decisions, not the conditions of our lives that determine our destiny

Anthony Robbins

oooOOOooo

Dean stood as if glued to the spot, transfixed by the scene before him. He couldn't make himself move as he watched Sam exorcise the demon. There were no incantations or symbols; just Sam's mind and his outstretched hand. Even if he'd been able to react, he probably wouldn't have. This was clearly not without effort for his brother and Dean was afraid any distraction would hurt him. Besides, what could he do without the knife and he had no idea where it was.

So, as he watched, Sam forced the demon out of the teacher. His whole body seemed to tremble from the effort and when Sam's free hand moved to his head, Dean knew he was in pain. Then he saw the blood flowing from his brother's nose.

He wanted to move. He wanted it to all be over, but still Dean couldn't force himself from the spot. Sam was doing exactly what he'd promised he wouldn't. He was using his powers to exorcise the demon and a stab of fear tore through Dean unlike any he'd ever known. He remembered what Castiel had told him. If he couldn't get Sam to stop using his abilities, the angels would.

And that's when it ended. The demon was finally ripped from its human host and somehow Sam managed to stay on his feet. He looked angry; crazed. Until he saw Dean. In a split second Sam transformed from some super-powerful demon hunter to a little boy looking for his big brother's approval and knowing he wouldn't get it. Dean wanted to walk away and even though he wasn't stuck to the floor any more, he wouldn't.

Maybe if Sam had looked defiant or belligerent Dean might have been different, but he didn't. Instead, Sam looked lost and afraid. And then it happened. The pain overcame him and his knees buckled. Still, he didn't fall, but that had a lot to do with Dean rushing forward without hesitation and grabbing him.

"It's okay, Sammy. I got ya."

"The knife…"

Dean followed his vague gesture and saw Ruby's knife on the floor.

"I'll get it." Dean paused, afraid to let go of Sam, but when the younger man leaned against the wall, Dean leaned over and grabbed the knife. "Come on, we gotta get out of here."

Sam stood straight, an obvious message that he intended to walk out of the mausoleum under his own power. Dean let him have that, but stayed close, ready to catch him if necessary.

ooooo

The drive back to the motel could have been uncomfortable, but Sam was in too much pain and Dean was too worried. Dean drove with one eye on the road and one on his brother. Sam leaned against the passenger side door, his head resting on the glass. Dean intentionally kept the heat turned low because he knew Sam preferred it cooler when he had a headache. He also turned the radio off completely.

After parking in front of their room, Dean killed the engine and looked over at his brother. Sam had fallen asleep about three miles before and though Dean hated to wake him, Sam would be better off in bed. All it took was a light touch on his arm and he was awake.

"We're here," Dean said softly.

Sam nodded, but winced at the movement. Dean got out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. Sam opened the door and stood up, again making it clear he'd walk on his own. Dean walked a couple steps ahead of him and had their room door unlocked before Sam caught up.

Dean continued to the bathroom and when he returned with a bottle of ibuprofen from the first aid kit and a glass of water, Sam was lying on his bed. He hadn't even bothered to take off his shoes or coat.

"Take this," Dean said.

Sam opened his eyes and took the pills that Dean handed him. Dean noticed he didn't even ask what they were; he just took them from Dean with a look of appreciation. Sam sat up enough to swallow some of the water, but handed the glass back to Dean quickly before laying back down. When he winced and moaned quietly, Dean reached for the bedside light and flipped it off.

With only the light from the bathroom to see by, Dean slipped Sam's shoes off of his feet and quietly laid them on the floor next to the bed. Dean wanted to get Sam's jacket off, but he'd already rolled onto his side and curled up.

Dean took the bedspread from his own bed and gently laid it over Sam. He saw Sam's eyes open.

"Dean, don't be mad. Please."

The sound of Sam's soft, plaintive voice tore at Dean's heart. "I'm not mad. You did what you had to do."

Sam smiled, but Dean knew he was in pain and needed to sleep.

"It's okay. Get some rest, Sammy."

fin