Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural…I am just playing in the sandbox of which Eric Kripke owns.

Author Note: Alright so this is my first stab at a "Tag". I must say the Season 5 opening was downright amazing…so much better than I ever could have hoped for. If this is the last season…I have a feeling it's going to be unforgettable. : D

Spoilers: 5x01 "Sympathy for the Devil."

Rated T: For swearing and attempted sucicide. Nothing graphic as this is NOT a Deathfic!

Enjoy and don't forget to review. : )

He watched as his brother walked away and he felt his heart shatter. His brother didn't trust him and that made sick to his stomach. The look of pure betrayal in his brother's eyes drove the stake that was already in his heart a little deeper. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of tears that were threatening to spill over.

He watched, helpless, as the Impala's door slammed shut. He didn't try and run to get in the car; he wasn't going to beg Dean to stay. He knew his brother well enough to know that right now Dean wanted nothing to do with him and would therefore listen to nothing he had to say. So instead he stood there and stared at the red taillights and could only watch as the Impala drove off. His brother had left him, but maybe his brother had left him long before now. Ever since Dean had returned he'd been different. You can't just expect a person, who had been in hell to be cheery and gung-ho to go kill every evil monster in sight, but Dean had been quite, reserved, completely shut off about telling anything about his time spent downstairs.

So he gave his brother time, hoping Dean would come around. Dean had eventually come around after their dad died, but so far he hadn't gotten anywhere. Instead there had been enough tension whenever they were in a room together you could cut it with a knife. He had continuously lied to Dean, without ever even thinking about it. It was like an automatic reaction for him. He didn't want to tell Dean the truth, about Ruby or anything that he had done on his own, because he didn't want Dean to tell him the truth. He didn't want to see the look in his older brother's eyes when Dean called him a monster.

He shook his head at the overwhelming thoughts that were clouding his brain. He turned to look back at the hospital, not knowing whether to go back to talk with Bobby or just head back to the motel. He decided on the latter, if only for the fact that Bobby needed his rest. So, he picked up his feet, which felt incredibly heavy and started the five mile walk back to the motel.

It had taken him close to two hours to reach the motel, but when he did he let out a huge breath. The Impala was no where to be seen. His hand traveled inside his jean pocket and closed around the single key. The grooves of the key dug deep into the palm of his hand, but he didn't care. He soon found himself unlocking the door and sighing as the bags were where they were supposed to be. So Dean hadn't left him, at least not yet.

His throat felt tight as he closed the door and headed towards the bathroom. He turned on the shower and let the hot spray of water wash over his still fully clothed body. It was as if the water could wash away everything. All of the sins and lies he'd committed over the past year, make all the pain go away. He rubbed his rough, calloused, hands over his eyes, ignoring as they clouded with tears, once again. Before he could register what it was he was doing he was out of the shower and in front of his duffle. A long trail of water had followed him, but he didn't care. As he threw the clothes that were in his duffle on the floor he smiled bitterly. At the bottom of his duffle lay a knife. A knife that would make everything go away. The knife would be not only his punishment, but his salvation.

He found himself under the now freezing water, his body shook slightly, but he didn't care. The ice water felt good, it made him cold, and being cold at least made him feel something. The knife was steady in his hands, comfortable. He chuckled slightly at the fact that the knife was Dean's. Dean had killed so many creatures with this very knife. In a way, Dean was killing him, or at least was going to have a part. He rolled up the sleeve of his coat, growling at the fact that it didn't go past the middle of his forearm.

"Sam, stop it. Put the knife down."

He froze at the easily recognizable voice of his brother. Of course Dean could never leave him be, even when he hated him, he still had to be in his business.

"Go. Away."

"No, not until you put that knife down."

"I'm only finishing what you never had the balls to do."

"What the hell did you just say?"

He knew he had hit a weak stop, but that's where he was aiming for all along. If Dean didn't want to leave him alone, let him do this in peace, then he'd take matters into his own hands. Yet, even as he though that, the tiny amount of hurt in Dean's voice stopped him from saying anything else too cruel.

"You heard me, just go away."

"Sam, I'm not gonna say it again, put the knife down. We'll talk about this—"

"What like brothers? Yeah right. You don't trust me, I get that and I respect that. Hell, I don't trust myself either so that is why this has to be done. You'll understand someday."

He knew Dean had knelt down by the tub, the curtain had long ago been pushed away and water was covering the floor, but Dean didn't seem to care. He had refused to look at Dean because if he did he would lose all of his nerve.

"How can you possibly say that to me? I don't trust you, you put me through hell and back, but that doesn't mean I don't love you. You're my brother and no matter what that will never change. It's gonna take time, a lot of damn time, but we'll get there. Right now all I can see is anger, anger at you, myself, God, hell the whole world. But the end of the world can wait because I won't leave this damn bathroom floor until you give me that knife."

Despite the situation he smiled. It wasn't bitter or afraid, it was real. No matter what somewhere deep down he knew his brother meant what he said. He slowly dropped the knife over the edge of the bathtub, but didn't move a muscle afterwards.

"You happy, you can go now."

All he wanted to do was curl into a ball and sob. He wanted to cry till his lungs burned and he couldn't breathe. How was one supposed to be forgiven when he started the war that would end the world? How was he supposed to say "sorry" for all the pain and anger he'd caused his brother and the worry he caused Bobby? No words could ever fix the damage he'd done.

"Sam look at me."

He couldn't, he didn't want to see the green orbs of his older brother filled with anger and hatred.

"No."

"Sammy, please."

His head snapped in his brother's direction. It had been a while since he'd been called "Sammy" with such sensitivity. As he looked at Dean and noticed the anguish in his eyes, he smiled if only slightly. There was no anger or disgust in Dean's eyes. They were filled with a type of angst and worry, not worry for the war or the future, but worry at what the moment held.

"Let's get this water off you must be freezing."

He nodded as he felt strong arms wrap themselves around his torso. He was shaking, his teeth chattering, and he snuggled into the surprisingly fluffy towel that was wrapped around his shoulders. His hair clung to his neck causing droplets of water to hit the floor and his eyes seemed to be fascinated with watching them fall. He hadn't registered the water stopping and being turned off or that fact that he soon found himself stripped out of soaking wet clothes and then put into dry ones. He didn't even register being put underneath the warm comforter.

"Why do you still care?"

That had to be the million dollar question and he had just asked it. They were both wondering it, he knew that.

"Sammy, you're my brother. No matter what you do and you did a terrible thing, but I don't know what's worse then starting the war that will end the world; it's still my job to look after you. Always has been and maybe what happened is my fault, I should have helped you, tried to understand where you were coming from, but I pushed you away, pushed you into the arms of evil and that evil, if fucked you up. But when this over, we'll see what were left with. I've kept you alive this long Sammy and I don't plan to let you die now."

"We're all gonna die in the end."

"Maybe, but you've got me and as long as I can help you, nothing is gonna happen to you."

He'd been dying to hear those words. Those words that could put him back together. He was exhausted, worn out emotionally and physically. He didn't know what tomorrow would hold, or next week. But for now he could sleep, safe in the fact that Dean was there by his side, no matter what.

Author Note: So this wasn't how I intended for it to end. Not at all. The story had a mind of its own. So let's see at least in this story it took the fact that Sam was gonna kill himself for Dean to help him…let's hope that doesn't happen in the show and that the brother's can find there way back to each other.

Lots of Love and don't forget to review,

Kaylee