Disclaimer: nope don't own them...but if i did maybe this Biology Final wouldn't be so bad...anatomy and phisiology would at least be ALOT more interesting
Author's Note: sorry, uploaded the wrong story before...CalcUSEless is frying my brain...i swear deratives and intregals are like holy water to my demons...don't do anything but cause a whole lot of pain..and im a first time fanfic writer...so if the general consensus is premeditated murder--i chose death by FIRE and let these damn chemistry books burn with me...
Warning: Character death (Universal Law: Dean is too hot to die...so sorry Sammy but looks like for once you're going to have to be the sacrafical lamb),
"Thus does conscience make cowards of us all"--Hamlet
He had once made a promise to Sammy that as long as he were around, nothing bad would ever happen to him. The kid had grinned, like he always did, and said, "duh doofus, it's what you do," because in his head it was simple—Dean was a completely invincible superhero who could climb on buildings, fly through the air, and kill any monster that ever tried to hurt him. He was his protector, his best friend, his big brother. It had always been that way, since the fire that killed their parents and Child services tried to split them up. They learned the hard way, as a seven year old Dean kicked and bit anyone who came near him and his baby brother, that no one was ever going to be able to separate him from his Sammy.
The black waters of darkness were cold and unforgiving, the ghost of lost memories and guilty souls grazing its surface. An icy wind, colder than the strongest of artic breeze, cut against his skin with jagged icicle daggers that drew rusted blood in steady streams of tainted crimson. He hated feeling this way but supposed it was a punishment for failing. He'd blink for a second and in that moment the one person who mattered more than life itself had been snatched away, taken to a place where even he couldn't follow.
He'd wake up in the middle of night at ungodly hours and stare into the surrounding shadows wondering why he felt so lonely until the past few days, months, and years came flooding back like a fortress of emotion had suddenly been broken and now nothing was to left to stop him from remembering. Anger, pain, sadness, sorrow followed in the footsteps of shattered innocence and wasted dreams as images flashed before his swimming vision. Sammy as a baby, gurgling when Dean drew shapes on his stomach—he had always been ticklish, especially in the soles of his feet and in his sides, under the ribs—Sammy as a toddler taking his first step, Sammy as a three-year old playing on the slide at the park, Sammy riding a bike for the first time begging for him not to let go, Sammy as a giant bunny in the school play, Sammy eating his birthday cake and getting more of the chocolate frosting on his face then in his mouth, Sammy laughing at a lame joke and placing his small hand into his brother's bigger one before they went into that stupid store for a Blizzard Blue Slushy. He gulped as the peaceful images gave way to the terrifying ones he saw in his nightmares—Sammy's shocked expression before he crumbled to the floor, Sammy's favorite Spiderman T-shirt slowly being soaked in his own blood, Sammy's little chest moving up and down for the last time, his glazed eyes slowly sliding shut forever as his nine years of existence slowly seeped away through the gaping bullet hole in a heart that had just stopped beating.
Please make it stop. Please make it go away. He repeated the words over and over trying to make them come true but a part of him didn't bother because it understood that he deserved to suffer. Suicide would have been easy. One quick flick of his wrist, one obscure glance at the top shelf of the medicine cabinet, one small stumble precariously close to the edge of a busy intersection and the pain would all end. But he wasn't a stranger to Fate and her sick sense of humor or to Death and his compulsive desire for order. So no matter how much it hurt, how lonely he was, how guilty he felt, he couldn't risk his soul like that. Sam needed him, and it wouldn't do either of them any good if he was burning in hell—though considering how badly he had screwed up he was probably destined for that place as it was.
He didn't care what happened to him. He never did. It was part of being a big brother, just as much as subjecting your baby brother to the tickle monster when he deserved it and sneaking him candy for the Halloween stash that's hidden under the floor board of your room when he's good—to have the ability to put someone else before yourself. Only one person ever mattered and now that he was gone, all Dean cared about was the fact that he had once made a promise to Sammy that as long as he were around nothing bad would ever happen. So then why should that change just because his little brother was dead?