Nobody's Fault But Mine

Summary: Dean has been sabotaging Sam's efforts to break his deal. Why would he do that and how long can he keep it from Sam? Set during Season 3 after AVSC. Title from Zeppelin.

Disclaimer: I don't own jack. All the cool parts belong to Eric Kripke

A little bit about me you might not have already known: I love syrup. Sometimes I even eat pancakes with it.

On to the Story! (Part 1 at least…)

XxXxX

Sam was down for the count. Eighteen hours of nothing but research would do that to a guy. Just to be on the safe side, Dean had switched his brother's coffee with decaf. It was wrong, and he felt six kinds of dirty doing that to his brother, and if Sam found out there would be an awful lot of esplaining to do, but all the sour looks and snide comments about trying to save him would be worth it if Sam would just get one night of good sleep. In the mean time, Dean had some work of his own to do.

First things first, he deleted the browsing history on Sam's computer making sure to wipe the favorites as well. It wasn't subtle and Sam would know as soon as he sat down at the computer, but Dean already had a lie in place for when this little sabotage came into the light. He may not be able to crack FBI databases or snatch a dead guy's social security number out of the interweb's ether, but fifteen years worth of what Sam may call an unhealthy addiction, and he called observing the beauty that Asia gave us, taught him how to delete his search history.

This wasn't the first time he'd actively worked against his little brother, and it most probably would not be the last. Last week he'd "spilled" his coffee all over Sam's notes, but after fifteen minutes of ranting and raving about clumsy older brothers and caffeine dependence Sam quieted down and immediately got back to work. His little brother could bitch all he wanted, if this was what it took to make sure that the deal held and his brother lived, it would all be worth it. Some of his efforts, though, were much less rewarding.

Dean still cringed when he thought about last week's altercation with one of Sam's contacts…

A week ago…

The nervous look his brother threw him as Dean made his way from the motel lobby was all the indication he needed about what exactly Sam was doing on the phone. Dean knocked on his brother's window holding up the number six before opening the back door to retrieve his duffel and the weapons bag. As he opened the door he caught the tail end of Sam's conversation before his little brother could end the phone call.

"Yeah, no problem. I'm sure I can make it over there in a couple days… Yeah." Sam looked back at him with a cheeky grin on his face and then chuckled. "Always. Thanks again, Harv." The smile was still on his face as he got out of the Chevy and zipped his coat a little higher to try to shield against the sudden frigid gust. After the false green Christmas left thanks to their efforts with Gramps and Nanna God, Michigan quickly reclaimed its membership in the subzero northern Midwest club.

"That didn't sound like a pizza order," Dean said. A raised eyebrow adorned the careful mask he allowed his brother.

"I think I've finally got a lead on your deal, Dean! I'm gonna go grab a quick shower and then I'll fill you in." Without another word he grabbed his bag, smacked Dean on the arm and headed into their room. As the door swung shut Dean let the mask fall into the snarl he'd been holding in. Why the hell'd you have to say anything, Sammy? Dean let his shoulders slump, grabbed his bag and followed his brother into room number six.

His normally organized and anally retentive little brother had strewn his bag and clothes throughout the room. The shower was already running, and a tuneless version of 'Up Around the Bend' was filtering through the closed door. Apparently hope brought out the sloppy CCR fan in his little brother. Dean crept through the room stopping next to his brother's forgotten jeans to fish out Sam's cell phone. Quickly punching in recent calls he saw the first one had the area code 434… South Boston, huh? Harvey Petula, then. Damnit, Sammy why'd you have to tell me about it? Dean grabbed the motel stationary and scribbled down the phone number before replacing Sam's phone back in the pants pocket.

Dean silently moves over to Sam's laptop to confirm some information before closing it and heading outside to complete his task.

Harvey picked up on the third ring. "Yes? Hello?" Dean takes a deep breath. This isn't the first time he's called one of Sam's contacts, but it's certainly the hardest.

"I want you to stop all contact with Sam Winchester."

"What are you talking about? I'm doing him a favor." Harvey sounded confused and, as expected from a hunter, on his guard.

Dean swallowed his revulsion and schooled his voice as best he could against the anger and self loathing that plagued him, "Do the police in Massachusetts have any leads on the killer of that 28 year old girl, Michelle Brachner. Apparently she was found naked outside her apartment with a homemade silver bullet lodged in her heart? I am told a witness saw a man of average height and average build between the ages 35 and 47 leave the alley around the same time as the murder. There was a pronounced limp in his left leg."Dean provided, keeping his voice level.

"How dare you threaten me! Who the hell is this?"

Dean steeled himself for the final blow. I'm sorry, Harv. "The LAPD still have a warrant out for the arrest of Simon Parker for the apparent ritualistic murder of Christine and Jeremy Parker." Everybody gets in the business somehow…

The line was silent for thirty seconds before a low growl could be heard on the other end, "You son of a bitch. What do you want?"

"Do not call, write, barter, lend or sell anything to Sam Winchester. Is that understood?"

Another thirty seconds and Dean thought he might have lost the hunter. The voice that responded was ripe with anger and disbelief, "Is this you Dean? I have half a mind to shoot you next chance I get. Where the hell do you get off threatening me, you cocky little shit?"

Dean closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Don't you worry about that. Just keep your end of our agreement, break the meeting you've already set, and in six months this information dies with me." Dean ended the call and headed back inside. The warm motel room never seemed less inviting.

Ten minutes later Sam exited the shower as a monotonous tone beeped a reminder of a new message on his cell phone. His brother was still all smiles and teeth, "Hey, why didn't you get that?"

Dean shrugged a shoulder, his eyes never leaving the fuzzy image of… whatever the hell it was on the tv, "Respectin' your privacy."

Sam just smirked as he tapped his pin number into his voicemail, "First time for everything, huh?"

Dean didn't answer, his attention focused on Sam as his sibling's face crumple with every passing second of the message. After it was done Sam quickly hit redial on his phone with renewed determination on his face. Three consecutive times he hit redial and each time his face fell farther and the threatening tears rose closer to the surface.

Dean ducked his head as cell phone debris rained down off of the wall. The price of a cell phone was nothing compared to his little brother's life.

XxXxX

AN: That's it for part one. The next round explains why Dean is messing with Sam's attempts to break the deal. Reviews would be awesome!