Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. All mistakes are my own.

I am so sorry for taking so long but this story didn't want to be written. I knew where I wanted to go but it didn't let itself be written. That said here it is.

Mentions of Megstiel, suicide and self-harming; do not read if you do not like.

Time Stamp to Mess with Sam, Sign Up for a Painful Death, and part four of 'While You Were Gone' series. I hope you all like it.

Dean sat straight up on his bed trying to catch his breath. He looked around and saw he was in his room. He gave a sigh of relief and lay back down. The nightmares were getting worse. Dean had thought that once those bastards were dead the nightmares that had been plaguing him would disappear; the opposite had happened. Every night he dreamt of chasing Sam in the dark and raping him. He could still see the look of terror and betrayal on Sam's face, Sam bringing up his arms in defense but never lifting a finger of violence towards Dean. He could still feel being around his brother, in him. Worse, he could still hear Sam's pleas and screams.

Dean had to get the waste basket quickly as he felt the contents of his dinner making itself known again. He kept close to the waste basket, dry heaving in it. Once that stopped he ignored his bed (he wouldn't be able to sleep and even if he did he knew for a fact he'd have the same nightmares.) and went to the main room. He poured himself some whiskey and took the whole bottle with him as he sat down.

Dean contemplated all that had happened. Sam told him everything that had happened during his unwanted vacation in Purgatory. Sam hadn't abandoned him in Hell's ass crack, no, his little brother had looked for him and he had ended up paying a steep price in looking for his older brother. Sam had been kidnapped, held against his will, tortured and raped. He had been left injured and then his baby brother had tried to commit suicide.

Dean took another drink, this time straight from the bottle. There was one good thing going for them right now; Sam had stopped self-harming. After his attempted suicide Sam had picked up ways to hurt himself to help cope with his emotions and what had been done to him. Dean wished he could help his brother now but he couldn't even look Sam in the eyes. Dean knew he was hurting his little brother but he couldn't bring himself to tell Sam what he'd been dreaming. He kept imagining Sam's eyes full of dread or terror. No, he wouldn't tell Sam what his sick mind comes up with every night. Dean stayed in the sitting room, whiskey in hand, thinking and condemning himself until Sam found him there at six thirty in the morning.

OoOoOoOo

Sam felt like shit. He had a hard time sleeping last night and woke up when he heard Dean walking at three in the morning. He had hoped Dean would come to his room (he would never admit out loud but he likes it when Dean and he sleep in the same bed.) and maybe talk what is going on with him. Sam's hope was dashed as Dean passed his door and he didn't hear him coming back.

Sam's alarm went off at six. He laid there unsure what to do. The month after Dean had killed Fred had been awkward. When they woke up in the next day Dean had smiled and joked around. They even stayed there an extra three days but things had changed when they came back to the bunker. Dean wouldn't look Sam in the eyes.

The same night they returned Sam had been awake getting a glass of water when he heard Dean's muffled groans. He didn't think, just ran to his older brother's room. Dean was thrashing around his bed mumbling 'no'. It broke Sam a little and without thinking about crawled into bed with his older brother. When he put his arms around Dean's waist he woke up, panting hard.

"It's okay, Dee, I'm here," Sam kept his arms around his brother hoping to be able to bring comfort just like he did to Sam. So it was a surprise when Dean pushed him away and got up off the bed like he'd been burnt. Sam frowned, wondering what he had done wrong.

"Dean?"

Sam saw Dean blinking fast before he came to his senses, "Sam, did I…" he rubbed his hand over his face, "God, don't tell me I hurt you."

Sam was confused, "No, Dean, you didn't, promise."

"Oh, okay," Sam noticed, quite painfully, that Dean would look at anywhere but Sam's eyes.

"I'm going to get some water; you can stay here if you want."

Sam nodded and watched his brother leave. Sam stayed in Dean's room, expecting his brother to come back but he didn't. Sam had fallen into a fitful sleep and woke at eight with a lingering fear.

Sam has watched as Dean became distant. He doesn't look Sam in the eyes anymore. Sam has noticed it while watching his older brother's eyes get baggier with the lack of sleep. He didn't know what to do. Dean has always been there for him when he felt like shit but Sam didn't know how to be there for his older brother. Especially since what was happening to him was more than likely Sam's fault. He should've kept his mouth shut when Dean saw the scars or come up with something else.

It was too late, now. What was done is done and there's nothing he could do about it. Sam got up and went to the sitting room. Dean was with an almost empty bottle of Jack in his hands. Sam knew for a fact that the bottle was half way empty just the night before. Dean didn't acknowledge Sam instead pouring the last bit of whiskey and drinking it.

"Really, Dean," Dean shrugged, "It's five p.m. somewhere in the world."

"Have you eaten at least," Sam asked, worried.

"Nah saw no point to it. I'll be back in a bit."

Sam wanted to protest, Dean had been drinking since three, he hadn't eaten and now he was leaving. Before Sam could say anything, though, Dean had walked out of the room. Sam didn't know what to do so he stayed where he was, wondering how he could fix what he fucked up.

Dean drove aimlessly around. He couldn't be around his younger brother; he didn't want to expose his brother to whatever darkness was growing in him. He snorted. All this time Sam has thought he was the tainted brother when really it was Dean. Sam didn't ask for the demon blood but Dean had willingly chosen the dark side. Would he go back and change what he did to those bastards? No. But he did wish he could've stopped it before anything ugly touched his brother because in doing so he had opened a door.

Dean was terrified that embracing that darkness meant the nightmares he had would get a hold of him and he wouldn't be able to stop it. He wasn't scared for himself or his soul. He was scared what he would do to Sam if the darkness he had in him overtook him. Just the thought of his brother's betrayed face made Dean sick. He had to avoid that at all cause. A part of him thought it would be good to leave Sam but he just…couldn't. But was it worse for him to stay or leave Sam alone? He wished he had someone to talk to but he'd rather Sam never found out what sick things Dean's brain had conjured up. Dean was deep in thought when a voice spoke that had him almost crashing.

"Hello, Dean."

"Damn it, Cas don't do that while I'm driving!"

"Apologies but you did call for me."

"What, no I didn't."

"Maybe not out loud but you were longing for me."

That sounded wrong, "I don't 'long' for anyone, Cas."

The angel didn't say anything and stayed in the passenger seat knowing that Dean wouldn't talk until he wanted to.

"Castiel, am I tainted?" The angel looked up sharply, Dean felt like squirming under his intense stare.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, is there are darkness in me, can it take over any time? Can I hurt Sam?"

Cas frowned, "No Dean, there is no darkness in you. Even if there were I think you are physically incapable of hurting Sam. Why are you worried about this?"

Dean pulled to the side of the road knowing that he was too emotional to be driving. Plus he could still feel the effects of the whiskey he had drunk that morning. Dean didn't know where to start. Just thinking about his nightmares was bad enough but talking about it; torture. To Cas' credit, he didn't push for Dean to talk but waited patiently.

"I keep having these—these nightmares. I'm chasing Sam through the dark. I can hear his screams of pain and terror. Then I find him and torture him, sometimes, other times I—I rape him. God, what kind of monster am I that I dream of raping my baby brother? Cas, please, just tell me, did I open some type of door going after those assholes? Am I going to end up like them?"

Dean let his head hang until it hit the steering wheel. It was silent in the car for a while until Dean heard one word.

"No," Dean looked up, staring at the angel with a mixture of disbelief and hope.

"No, there is nothing that will turn you to the side of evil. You are the righteous man."

Dean snorted, "Yeah, I was definitely righteous when I tortured those assholes."

"Dean, I will not deny that there is darkness in you but everyone has one. It's impossible for one person to be so pure. Even angels have their dark side though they would never admit. Besides, those men deserved it and much worst still for what they did to Sam."

Dean stared ahead, remembering the videos he saw of his little brother's captivity. Nobody could deny that those bastards deserved it and he definitely wouldn't but he felt he had lost a part of himself in opening those doors. In doing so, he had made himself a danger for Sammy.

"You won't hurt him, Dean, you can't. Remember, he is your soulmate. Hurting him would be like hurting yourself, or worse. Go to him Dean, talk to him."

"You want me to tell him what I've been dreaming? Are you insane?"

"You may not like it but I have a feeling that Sam would rather hear of your nightmares than whatever thoughts have been going through his head. I doubt Sam has not noticed something wrong with you and has interpreted in the wrong way."

Dean nodded, Sam always seems to want to put every bad thing that happens on his shoulder. He turned to the angel, "Thanks, Cas, I need this."

"Anytime," came the gruff reply.

"By the way, where have you been and what have you been doing."

"I have been moving furniture with Meg."

Dean choked on his spit trying to shy away from that image, "Oh, dude, TMI! I don't need to know what hedonistic things you do with a demon! God, you didn't want to lose your virginity an escort but gave it up to a demon of all things! What the hell!"

Castiel smiled, "It seems Meg is my unicorn."

Then he disappeared.

OoOoOoOo

Sam knew he shouldn't. He should call someone but a part of him couldn't stand it anymore. The one person he actually wanted to talk to was ignoring him. He couldn't take it anymore. He wanted relief and this was the only way he could think of to do so. Sam stared at the knife in his hand and gave a dark laugh.

"Seems I'm back to you," Sam sobered up quickly. It seemed that no matter what he would always be addicted to something, whether it was demon blood or cutting. It seems that all of the discipline he had put himself through, exercising, eating healthy, drinking shakes, was all for nothing. He still couldn't control himself.

He took off his shirt, went to the shower room and turned it on as hot as he could. He sat on the tiles, letting himself get wet. Sam picked up the knife and did the first cut. It was heaven.

OoOoOoOo

Dean walked into the bunker with breakfast in hand. After the talk he had with Castiel he felt a little better. He knew he couldn't let this continue eating at him. He was going to talk to Sam and hopefully they could start fresh with a better future ahead of them. Hopefully putting all this shit behind them.

"Sam, I'm home, brought some breakfast," Dean looked towards the direction where Sam's room was at, waiting to see his brother come through the doorway. He frowned when Sam didn't make an appearance.

"Sam," he yelled out. He went straight to Sam's room and opened after getting no answer. Sam's room was empty and Dean had a bad feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"Sam!"

Dean walked through the bunker yelling Sam's name until he reached the shower room. He heard the shower going and knocked on the door. He frowned when he got no answer and went for the knob expecting it to be locked. So he was surprised when it opened and steam came out of the door.

"Sam," Dean tried to look through the steam until he saw a figure on the floor. When he got closer his heart almost stopped.

"Sammy," Dean ran up to his brother's huddling figure. He hissed when he felt the hot water hit his skin and turned it off. Sam was bleeding from multiple wounds on his chest and arms.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," Dean felt a sick sense of déjà vu hitting him as he helped his brother up. It was so similar to the time Dean found Sam in the motel room, bleeding in the bathtub. That time, though, was because had smothered Sam. This time, it was because Dean wasn't around for his baby brother. What was he thinking? Sam still needed support with everything that happened to him and Dean had been pushing his brother away leaving him with no support system.

"It's okay, Sammy, I got you. It's all gonna be alright now," Dean was mostly talking to himself but he felt Sam needed to hear his voice. He took Sam to Dean's room and sat him down on his bed not caring how wet the bed would get.

"Stay here, Sammy, I'll be right back," Dean ran to Sam's room to get a shirt, underwear, and new sweatpants as the one Sam was wearing were soaked. Dean made it back in record time and took out the first aid kit he kept in the drawer by his bed. He cleaned Sam's wounds and bandaged him up thankful that none of them needed stitches then helped Sam get into the dry clothing.

Dean then sat by Sam and pulled him close, "I'm sorry, Sammy. This is my fault."

He felt Sam trying to get closer to him. Dean put his arms around his brother, saying comforting words. A while later Dean felt Sam pulling away and he reluctantly let go. Sam sniffled a few times and wiped away tears from his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Dean frowned.

"For what, Sammy?"

"For falling off the wagon and cutting myself."

"It wasn't your fault; I haven't exactly been here for you."

Sam hugged himself around his torso, wanting to keep himself together. He wanted to know why Dean didn't want to talk to him, why was he avoiding him? He was too afraid to ask.

"I've been having these bad dreams, nightmares really," Sam went still, afraid of moving in case Dean stopped talking. He knew what his older brother was going to say was important he was going to find out the reason Dean has been avoiding him.

"I dream of chasing you through the dark, you're screaming for help, crying. I try to find you to save you. But when I do, it turns out that…well, that, I'm the one that is torturing you…God, I'm raping you."

Sam looked up and saw the tears falling down Dean's face. So that was the reason Dean wouldn't look at him. Dean looked down, looking at Sam, expecting rejection, or commendation. Sam hugged his brother around his waist.

"It's okay, I know you'll never hurt me. I just wish that I could help with the nightmares."

Dean looked down at Sam, disbelieving what he just heard. He had expected Sam to go running out the room screaming or looking at him with disgust. Instead his forgiving, why too good brother, was trying to comfort him.

"Really, that's all. Sam, I dream of hurting your, raping you and you try to comfort me?"

Sam looked up, "I know you would never hurt me. What you are having are dreams, fucked up dreams but just dreams. In your heart of hearts, I know you would do anything for you."

Dean looked down at his brother and hugged him closer, "I don't know what I did to deserve you Sammy, but I'm glad I have you."

Sam looked up, smiling, "I feel the same way, Dee. But the next time something like this happens, come to me, please. These past few weeks have been, h—not good."

Dean knew Sam changed words but he knew what it meant. He can't leave Sam too alone but he can't smother him either. They would both have to find a middle ground that would work. Dean was taken out of his thoughts when he heard Sam's hiss of pain. Dean let go as he had accidently squeezed too hard and aggravated one of Sam's wounds.

"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled.

"For what?"

"For being weak, for being useless when it comes to self-control," Dean sighed.

"Why do you always have the need to put yourself down, it wasn't your fault. I haven't been here and sometimes relapse happens. You can't keep beating yourself up for it. You just get up and start over again and if you ever need help, I'm here now. Promise."

Sam looked up and stared at Dean's face. Then he gave a small smile, "Thanks, big brother."

"You're welcome. Now come on, I have breakfast and it's probably cold now."

Sam got up and followed his brother. They both knew there will always be bad days but all they could do was keep going forward with each other by their sides.

Here it is, I finally finished. It's one in the morning and I know there will be a butt load of mistakes. I feel this wasn't that good but hopefully, it is adequate enough for you guys.

I will start writing the next part of this series, Sam's torture, in mid-May or beginning of June. Thank you so much for staying with me so long.