"Jess! No!" his screams echoed through the empty halls of the dormitory. His brother used all his weight to push the younger out of the burning building.
"Sammy, come on." He pushed against the latter. Sam resisted and threw himself into his brother , pushing him back.
"Dean, let me go. Jess!" he heaved forward again.
Dean stood strong and shook Sam's shoulders. "Sammy, stop."
"No!" he stumbled and collapsed, exhausted. Dean caught him under the arms and gently lowered him into the grass. Sam drew his knees in and wrapped his arms around them.
"Sammy, I have to go talk to the cops." He glanced worriedly at his brother. Sam just stared at the building. "Don't move, ok?" when he didn't respond, Dean gave him a pat on the shoulder and walked away, keeping his brother in sight.
As soon as he had told them everything he could, he rushed back to his brother. He found Sam rummaging through the trunk and gave a half-hearted grin. 'That's my boy.'
"Hey." He tried to sound normal. "How ya doing?" he looked at his baby brother sympathetically.
Sam took a deep, shuddered breath. "I'm fine." He answered. "Come on. We have work to do." He slammed the trunk shut and slid into the front seat. Dean followed with a sigh.
The car ride to the motel was dead silent. Dean stole glances at his brother who just lay, his head rested against the window, eyes staring straight ahead. As soon as they had pulled into the parking lot, Sam slipped out and waited impatiently for Dean to unlock the door.
"Sammy-"
Sam held up a hand. "Just open the door. Please." Dean did as requested and Sam bolted for the bathroom. He quickly undressed and stepped into the scalding water. It felt good on his tense muscles and it washed away the smell of smoke. His mind began to wander and he tried to force Jess out of his thoughts. As he poured a dime-sized amount of shampoo into his hand and put it to his hair he felt the dried blood on his forehead. "Dammit." He sobbed and sank to his knees. "God Dammit!" he threw the bar of soap against the tile and gulped in air as he tried to stay calm.
"Sam?" he heard his brother call from the bedroom.
"I'm fine." He said as confidently as possible. Turning the water off, he stepped out and wrapped a towel around his waist. "Dean?" he asked sheepishly, cracking open the door. "My clothes. I need-my clothes burned in the fire." He blinked rapidly and forced the tears back into their ducts.
Dean quickly retrieved a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and handed them to his little brother. "Anything else?"
Sam shook his head. "Thanks." He retreated to the bathroom and came out again five minutes later. He lay down on the bed furthest from the door, exhausted. He stared at the ceiling and Jess flashed above him. 'Why Sam?' she called. His breath hitched in his chest and he flipped over, burying his face in his pillow. He didn't cry though, he couldn't. He didn't deserve to cry. But he began shaking adamantly.
Suddenly there was a hand on his back, gently running circles into his neck and down his shoulders. Dean wordlessly tried comforting his baby brother and ran his other hand through his shaggy brown hair. He silently willed Sam into a restless sleep and stayed by his side minutes after he had finally given up fighting it. He took a quick, five-minute shower himself before climbing into bed and praying for Sam to get a full night's sleep.
The scarlet droplets landed on his forehead and burned his flesh. Her beautiful, curvy body was directly above him and her green eyes, wide with horror. Her perfect lips were parted in a grotesque scream as blood dripped from her torso. 'Why Sam?' she whispered before bursting into flames.
Sam woke with a jolt and tossed back the covers. Stumbling into the bathroom, he flipped on the light and shut the door before heaving painfully over the toilet. Standing, he splashed his flushed cheeks with cool water. He felt the blood-her blood. It was still on him. He grabbed a washcloth and scrubbed roughly.
Dean had woken to Sam's heavy panting next to him. He watched as he sprinted to the bathroom and overheard him as he puked his guts out. When it fell silent, Dean decided it was as good of time as any to talk to him.
"Sam?" he knocked lightly on the door. "Sammy?" he opened the door and saw his brother scrubbing his skin hysterically. "Hey." He was at his side immediately and grabbed his wrists. "Sammy, you're scrubbing it raw. Stop." He pulled the cloth from his brother.
"No, Dean. Get it off! I have to get it off!" he reached for the rag wildly and Dean tossed it behind him, grabbing Sam as he launched for it. He pushed him back against the bathtub and gripped his forearms.
"Calm down, buddy. Calm down." He squeezed gently as Sam took deep breaths. "That's it. Ssshh."
Sam wrapped his arms around his long legs and sobbed into his knees. "Dean." It was quiet. A soft plea that Dean had to strain to hear. Dean reached out and draped his own arms around his brother, rocking him.
"I'm right here, Sammy." He pushed his brother's head into the crook of his neck and Sam clutched onto his brother's shirt, pinching his skin in the process. Dean winced but pulled him closer as he felt his tee soak with tears. "I got you, man. It's gonna be ok." His whispered into Sam's ear. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm so sorry this happened. Man, I would give anything for her to be back."
Sam sobbed and squeezed tighter as Dean rubbed his neck and hushed into his ear. He was taken aback when Dean silently planted his lips gently to Sam's temple and pulled back, staring into his watery hazel eyes.
"It's gonna be ok, Sammy. I'll make it ok, I promise." He bent his forehead down to meet the youngers and Sam nodded, releasing a long, shuttered breath. "Come on." He pulled Sam up by the bicep and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Let's get you back to bed.
He pushed his bed against that of the latter and laid down, Sam promptly nestling into his side. He put his arm around his brother and rubbed his arm soothingly. "We'll hunt that son of a bitch, Sammy. This is the last time he fucks with my family."