I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters
I raised the shotgun, ready to shoot the thing that was hurting Sammy. Suddenly, I heard the door slam open behind me, and Dad's voice rang in my ears.
"Get out of the way!"
I moved as Dad pushed me aside, and a shot rang out. The creature, old and wrinkled, snarled. Dad shot again, but the creature ran, racing for the window and vanishing into the darkness.
Dad sent off one more shot, before throwing the gun down onto Sam's bed and grabbing him.
"Sam? Sammy?" he said urgently, shaking him.
This is where you wake up Sammy! Wake up!
I stared in shock as my little brother didn't move, only breathed slowly, as Dad tried to wake him.
"No, Sammy! Come on!" dad buried his head in Sam's hair.
I couldn't move. My muscles locked in place and my hand tightened on the gun. No. Sam had to wake up. He had to be okay. This was all my fault.
Dad looked up at me. The anger and pain in his eyes scared me, and I dropped the shotgun.
"Where were you?" he growled.
"I...I just went out...I was only gone for a minute..." I tried to hold back the tears that stung my eyes and threatened to overflow down my face.
"You went out? Dean, I told you to stay and look after Sam! I told you not to leave!" Dad said, his voice low and angry. That scared me more than yelling, and I took a step back, not sure what to do. Sam's going to be okay, isn't he?
"I can't find it Dean. It's gone. It knew I was after it and it disappeared," Dad said quietly as I sat by Sam's hospital bed. I stared in horror, gripping my little brother's hand tighter.
No, he has to be okay. Dad has to find it and kill it! Sam has to get better! This is all my fault!
Dad stared at me, and then Sam. He was still asleep, his chest barely moving. I gently brushed some hair off his face, wishing it wasn't true. That Sammy was going to wake up any minute now, and everything was going to be okay.
"Mr Winchester?" A nurse asked, looking into the room.
"Yes?" Dad spun around, the hope obvious on his face even though he already knew what was going to happen to his youngest son.
"I'm afraid it's bad news. Dr Wilson says there's nothing he can do. He'd like to talk to you about shutting off Sam's life support."
Dad sagged against the wall, trying to stay standing. I stared at my brother. He just looked like he was sleeping, that if I poked him he'd wake up with a grumble and hit me. I wished he would. I was wishing with all my heart that he'd wake up.
An hour later Dad did it. I held Sam's hand as Dad hugged him. Then the machines were turned off. Sam's chest stopped rising, and the doctor turned the heart monitor off just as it started beeping an alarm.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Sammy," Dad cried, hugging Sam tightly. I couldn't move. I felt like everything had just broken around me, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.
Sammy, I did this to you. I killed you. I'm a murderer, it's all my fault. Sammy I'm so sorry
I let go of Sam's hand, watching it fall lifelessly to the side of the bed. I stared at his face, his closed eyes.
I'm so sorry Sammy
I ran. Dad was on his knees by the bed, still holding Sam, so he couldn't stop me in time. I pushed past the doctors and nurses and I ran down the hall, Dad's voice ringing in my ears.
My feet pounded the floor, skidding as I turned corners. Nobody tried to stop me; they just stared of huffed as I pushed them aside. I could still hear Dad running behind me, trying to catch up, calling my name.
I shoved the doors open violently, and was suddenly out of the hospital and on the street. I didn't stop. I kept running, down the steps, onto the pavement and then onto the road. I couldn't stop.
In an instant, everything changed. Something heavy and hard slammed into me, and I went flying. I crashed into the road with a thump, and sobbed as pain raced through me. I heard voices, calling my name or just yelling. I saw faces, blurred, above me.
"Dean? Dean! Come on, not you too!"
I'm sorry Sammy; I didn't mean to leave you there on your own. I'm so sorry. I killed you. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry...