Warning: Dark!AU
This story requires a little bit of backstory, if you have ever seen Repo Men, then you'll get it. Basically Dean works for a company that takes back organs when the person in possession can't afford/pay off the debt of them. I guess this is a companion piece to a incomplete fic I have started.

What's the most important thing you possess? Is it your family, or your friends? Perhaps it's that shiny new car you purchased with your own money, the three story house you finally got around to making a down payment on, or your dog. Mine was my heart, and I had it stolen from me in both ways.

The garage was same as always, dirty rags strewn across cement flooring to cover oil stains, beaten radio blaring some classic rock song in the corner. Sam was currently bent over the open hood of a truck, assessing the condition of the spent pistons. Sighing, he straightened up wiping his oil coated hand on his forehead. Adjusting the coveralls, he tightened fabric arms around his waist, it was much too hot outside to wear it the right way so it was wrapped around his waist. White wife-beater clung to his chest, splotches of oil staining the once clean fabric.

Turning his head at the sound of approaching footsteps, a stranger stood before him. Handsome, Sam thought as he gave him a once-over. Piercing green eyes matched with short dirty blonde/brown hair, flipped up at the front. He was wearing a green v-neck shirt, with a leather jacket over top, and Sam stopped to admire the muscles that were undoubtedly there. Even under layers of fabric, Sam always had a knack for knowing when a guy worked out or not. As his gaze continued his journey southward he was interrupted.

"Are you done?" the stranger asked, a short chuckle at the end. Raising his eyes, Sam smirked "Maybe. What do you need good-looking?" He flirted. The man frowned, lifting up the metal briefcase he held, "You know what I want."

Glancing over at the unfinished repair, he turned back to the man, wiping the grease off his hands on his pants. "Oh, I was wondering when you'd turn up, do you mind if I finish this first? Gen will kill me if I don't get her truck fixed first." He replied, a fond smile on his face at the thought of his best friend.

Tilting his head slightly to study Sam, the stranger looked at him with a unreadable look, Sam guessed curiousity. Shrugging, he set his briefcase down "Sure, why not. Do you need any help?" he asked as he shrugged out of his leather jacket, setting it over a nearby workbench. Looking at the man with doubt he thought it over before motioning for him to come over. "Sure, can you get me that wrench over there?" Sam asked as he resumed repair.

Handing the tool to him, the man leaned against the truck. "If you don't mind me asking," he asked casually after a few moments of silence "Why didn't you pay?" He glanced around at the well-stocked shop.

Eyes darkening slightly, Sam continued removing the cylinder head. "Personal reasons mostly, Dan needed the money more for his surgery" he shrugged as if that explained it all.

"Ah." The man nodded, he had heard the story before. People giving money to others in need even when they themselves required it more.

"If you don't mind me asking though," Sam asked, curiousity laced in his tone. "Why did you choose that job?". He genuinely wanted to know, not many people choose that profession. "I was good at it." the man replied as if that was the whole story "It pays well," he continued.

Nodding, Sam noted the expensive watch on his wrist. "I bet it does" he agreed. Popping out the used part, he motioned to the new boxed one on the workbench, "Hand me that box would you?" Shuffling across the room, the stranger grabbed it and handed it to him with a flourish. Chuckling at that, Sam slipped the part out and fixed it in place. Twisting the cap back in place, he wiped his hand on his forehead again, the man laughed at that.

"What?" asked Sam curiously. Handing him a rag, the man pointed to his forehead "You have some oil there". "Oh." Sam replied wiping forehead off as he grinned at the man. "It happens, can't help if I'm a dirty person" He raised his eyebrow suggestively. At that they both broke out in laughter, before Sam closed the hood of the truck and slipped a letter into the front seat of the truck. Turning back to the stranger, a somber look on his face he nodded. "I'm ready."

Straightening out, the man nodded, walking over and grabbing his briefcase. "Okay, I'm legally required to ask if you would like an ambulance on stand-by..." he trailed off, looking at Sam. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, he glanced around, "Would they give me a new one at the hospital, a new heart?" He asked, hope in his voice. "With your credit? Not-likely" the stranger replied, flicking various switches on the contraption inside the briefcase.

Swallowing, Sam sat down on the chair nearby "Why do they bother offering then?" he asked. Shrugging the stranger pulled out a pink sheet of paper, no doubt his medical infomation and replacement numbers on it. "No clue, there is a complaint department if you'd like to put in a complaint."

Laughing at that, Sam shook his head. "Nah, I won't bother. Bit of a waste, I'm sure." Smiling slightly the man lifted his head, "I suppose so."

"This will be easier if you lay down" the man said as he pulled out two paddles. Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Sam nodded laying down on the cement beside the case. "Will this hurt?" he asked, acceptance in his voice.

"Not a bit" the man lied through his teeth. Placing the defib paddles on Sam's chest, the man paused. "Why did you have to do this Sammy?" he asked, sadness leaking through his solid composure. Unshed tears gathering in his eyes, Sam reached up and cupped the man's cheek. "Because I wanted to see you again, Dean."

"So did I," Dean replied, "but not like this" he voice cracking slightly. 'You know I don't have a choice.. I already let you go once"

"I know" Sam replied, "I'm ready this time." He nodded, almost as if to reassure himself before leaning up and kissing Dean.

A soft touch of lips, cold against warm and he pulled back. Dean shook his head before wrapping a hand behind Sam's head, fingers tangling in soft brown hair before pulling him back up. The kiss was longer this time, brutal almost with want and guilt. Dean shook slightly, as Sam gave soft reassuring touches, tongue caressing his own. Pulling back enough to catch their breath, foreheads still touching Sam murmured "It's alright De, Don't feel guilty. You know you already own my heart, I guess your finally taking it." .

Recharging the paddles, Dean shook with silent sobs, as he nodded. "I know, I- I love you Sammy. Forgive me" as he placed his finger on the triggers.

"I already have, I love you too De, forever and always."

Two weeks later, Dean left his job and never looked back.

One month later he was found in a pool of his own blood in that same garage, clutching a note from Sam between his hands.

The end of the letter signed with;

You always will possess my heart.