The first time it happens, Dean is freaking out, ranting, about everything and anything. He has been hit by the ghost fever and it has him in his grasp. He is irrational nothing like the Dean Sam has known all his life.
Sam tries for calm, deep breathing and blank expression. He doesn't need Dean to know that, inside, he is freaking out. His brother is dying (again), his brother's life is on the clock (again) and Sam can't take it, can't make it better anymore than he could the last time.
Dean bolts and Sam watches him go. He remembers getting into the car, powering up the engine and the Impala pulling away.
The next thing he knows is he is holding his brother against the wall and Dean is staring at him as if he has lost his mind.
"It's ok Dean," he says, briefly touching his brother's shoulder, "you have to calm down."
Dean takes a deep breath and almost falls into Sam's arms.
"I was hallucinating," he gasps and Sam lets him think that, not wanting to know what really happened.
***
The second time it happens is after the event. The ghost is dead, Dean is safe and he feels nothing but relief. He sips his beer and laughs with Bobby, both of them playful, both of them glad that they didn't have to bury Dean again.
He is leaning against the car, asking his brother what he saw, what he saw in those last moments. Dean opens his mouth and Sam feels himself zone out. When he comes back to himself, Dean is looking at him funny, in a way that Sam really, really hates. Dean mumbles something about howler monkeys and laughs, but there is no laughter in his eyes and Sam swallows hard, wondering.
***
After that it starts happening more often. It isn't like the visions; there is no pain, no sickness, nothing but a strange detachment, lost time, moments that he can't ever get back again. Ruby is gone because he promised not to use his powers again and she is pissed at him so he doesn't have anyone to ask, anyone who will help him. He can't bear to tell Dean, can't bear to see his brother look at him in that way, doesn't want Dean to think he is a freak. He can see that his brother is getting increasingly worried, more and more concerned and he doesn't want to add to that worry. So he keeps going, on and on and on, losing moments of his life that are gone for ever.
***
He is in the passenger seat when it happens. He hears Dean's voice, clear as day, his tone halting and worried.
"This is fucking freaky, I'm gonna have to contact Bobby, maybe he will know someone. I can't tell Castiel – I can't."
Sam turns and looks at his brother, concerned, but Dean is still driving, hands on the wheel, whistling tunelessly. Sam swallows and gulps down something hard in his throat. Dean hears him and turns, irritated.
"What?" he says and Sam shakes his head.
He just read his brother's mind and he is freaking out on the inside yet calm on the outside. He shrugs and lets his hot face rest against the cold window.
"Nothing," he mumbles and wishes it were true.
***
After that it gets worse, not just seconds or minutes but hours at a time. He goes to sleep in motel rooms and wakes up in seedy bars, trashy women grinning at him like he was the second coming. One night he wakes up to a naked woman who is covered in scratches and bites. She opens one blue shadowed eye and winks at him.
"Give me a minute stud," she says, "I can go again but you have to give me a minute."
Sam knows that something is wrong and he knows that Dean knows but they are living in the comfortable world of Winchester denial and they continue ever on. Hunting, killing, sleeping (or not sleeping) then off to another hunt. Dean gets quieter, more reflective, his eyes on Sam all the time as if he is watching for something. Sam gets more and more anxious, more and more unstable, wondering what is going to happen next.
***
He has been missing for a day when he finally gets back to the motel room. Dean is hunched over the whetstone, sharpening Ruby's knife. He doesn't look up when Sam walks in, just keeps his head down.
There is a man in the corner. On the surface he looks like an accountant, rumpled and confused. His eyes meet Sam's, burning fire and Sam recoils, swallowing hard. There is another man on the bed next to Dean. He keeps a big hand on his brother's shoulder, his eyes are hard but his expression is kind. Sam sees Bobby by the door. The older man has his cap pulled down over his eyes and his expression is grim.
The thing that makes Sam pause, that makes Sam realise the truth is the fact that his brother is crying openly, huge tears pouring down his pale cheeks unchecked, no attempt at all to hide them. Sam has never, ever seen Dean cry so openly and he wants to go to his brother, take him in his arms but he can't.
"Sammy," Dean looks up finally and Sam nods once. He stands stock still, panic in his belly and, almost unconsciously, he lifts up his arm and Bobby flies through the air and is pinned against one of the walls. His eyes meet Sam's for a moment and Sam cries out, dropping his arm and falling to the floor, his head on his knees. Bobby crashes to earth with a thump and Sam buries his head deeper, tears coursing down his cheeks now, as unchecked as his brothers had been.
"You or us Dean?" the man on the bed says and Sam hears his brother's sharp intake of breath, hears his hiss of pain.
Sam made Dean promise once and he regrets it now. There is a pain in his stomach and his heart is thundering in his chest. He never thought he could feel fear like this but here it is. At least, he muses, it proves he is still normal, still a little human.
"Do it Dean," he says.
"Not with an audience," his brother grinds out and Sam hears muttering and then the swish of wings. He feels a cold wind rush by him and then he hears slow footsteps follow. Feels Bobby's hand on his shoulder, a quick squeeze of reassurance just like the one he felt after Dean's death, after Dean's descent into hell. He wishes things had been different then, that he had taken a different path, that he had ignored his destiny, his fate.
The room is empty then, just him and Dean, the brother's Winchester, how it was meant to be. He hears his brother's sobs, uncontained, painful and bitter.
"Please," he says, "just do it – please."
"I went to hell for you Sammy," Dean says and Sam nods.
"I know and I'm sorry, but it has to end here Dean, it has to. What's dead should stay dead ok? No deals, no demons, no nothing. Just let it end Dean, I just want it to end."
He doesn't hear his brother's approach, doesn't lift his head. He feels the gentle brush of fingers on the back of his neck, then a hand in his hair. His head is tipped back with infinite care and he feels the sharp edge of silver burn at his throat and he knows.
Dean is finally going to keep his promise.
End