A/N: Poor Sam, letting the guilt destroy him. Thank you so much for your support for this story. I really wished they had probed a little deeper with the after effects Heart had on both guys. I hope I am doing it justice. Thank you for all who are following, have favored and left me reviews with your thoughts. They help lift me up when I am down and need some encouraging words. Please review.

NC

Chapter 2

The sun had not broken across the horizon when Dean was pulled out of a light doze by moaning and unintelligible words coming from the bed beside him. Dean was out of his bed and by his brother's side in seconds watching him toss and fight the covers.

"Hey, hey man, wake up." Dean urged grabbing Sam's arms to stop him from hitting him or hurting himself.

"Plea-es! I can't!" Sam begged still more asleep than awake.

"Sammy, damnit wake up!" Dean growled as he shook him trying to get him to focus on him.

Sam groaned and blinked hard trying to see what was holding him as he pulled on his arms trying to get free. A blurred shape loomed over him and he fought back.

"Stop fighting, it's me Sammy." Dean grunted holding him down, trying not to hurt him. "Sammy!"

Sam stopped struggling when a familiar voice broke through his fuzzy mind and he stopped fighting. As his vision began to clear, he could see Dean looking down at him with a worried look.

"Dee." he finally croaked out recognizing his brother.

"Ya with me now?" Dean asked letting go of his hands as Sam tried to sit up. "Easy there, let me grab some water and aspirin."

"Ok." he whispered adjusting a pillow so he could lean back against the headboard, closing his eyes as he tried to slow his breathing and heart rate.

"Here, take these." Dean said holding out some aspirin and a bottle of water while frowning at his brother's stringy, mess of bed hair. He could see some matting of the hair around his face and was sure was dried vomit.

Sam accepted the offerings without fuss and took the aspirin, washing it down with the cold water. He let the liquid settle in his stomach before sipping another mouth full of the water savoring how good it felt on his raw throat.

Dean sat on the bed beside him and gave him a quick once over noticing how pale he still looked and the dark circles starting under his eyes.

"Wanna talk 'bout it?" he asked his brother quietly.

"No." Sam replied concentrating on the water bottle he was holding, clenching his jaw and drawing his mouth in a tight line not willing to share.

"You smell like crap, you wanna get a shower 'fore we head out? You're not gettin' in my Baby this stinky." Dean said, knowing from his look, it wouldn't do any good to push him. He got up and stood by the bed waiting for him to get up.

"I guess." he mumbled just loud enough for Dean to hear. Sam sat his water down and swung his legs off the bed pausing long enough to let the room stop spinning. He slowly stood up being sure he had his balance before focusing on walking to the bathroom.

"We're heading for Bobby's as soon as you're finished." Dean informed Sam as he stopped to grab some clean clothes.

"Alright."

Sam continued to the bathroom closing the door behind him and leaning against it as the pounding in his head got worse and the unshed tears flowed down his face. He squeezed his eyes tight wondering if he would ever run out of tears. He had shed so many over the past two weeks he's surprised there were still any left. Sam bit back the sob so not to alert Dean. He knew Dean was trying to help, but the ache and sorrow he felt was his burden to bear and deal with in his own way.

After pulling himself together, Sam stripped out of his smelly, vomit splattered clothes and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. His sucked in a deep breathe while stepping into the hot, streaming spray, letting it pound on his chest. He stuck his face in the water to wash away the sweat and tears and caught a mouth full of hot water to rinse his foul tasting mouth. He could still taste that slight hint of puke in the back of his throat that almost caused him to start gagging. He spit the water out and swallowed hard willing his stomach to stop rolling and churning so he could get done with his shower. He grabbed the shampoo, squirted a blob in his hand and began to wash his too long hair. After rinsing he repeated the process before using the conditioner. Some of the tension left his tight shoulders as he soaped his body and stood under the spray allowing it to beat on his back. The hot water was turning tepid when he finally shut the water off and stepped out. He grabbed the cheap hotel towel and began to dry his lean body.

Sam stood at the sink looking at his reflection in the mirror seeing the haunted look on his face. He picked up his brief and slid them on, then shook out his jeans and stepped into them. Sam frowned slightly when he noticed how loose around the waist they were, pulling them back up as they slid down on his hips. Looking back at the mirror, he decided against shaving, it just didn't seem important and would take too much energy. He pulled his tee shirt over his head and ran his fingers through his still damp hair trying to tame it down. He pulled out his toothbrush and paste hoping he could brush away the potty mouth he still had.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Sam found Dean had their bags packed and sitting on the bed. Dean looked up at him as he paused in the doorway for a moment before walking slowly to his bag and stuffing his clothes in it before zipping it up.

"We'll stop for some coffee on the way out. Want anythin' to eat?"

"No." Sam grimaced swallowing back the urge to gag at the thought of food. He picked his bag up and followed his brother out of the room and to the Impala. After tossing his bag in the trunk, he went to the passenger side and got in, slumping down in the seat and adjusting his long legs to get comfortable.

Dean climbed into the driver's seat and settled in, cranking the car and pulling out of the parking lot. He was going to stop at the diner at the end of the street and run in to get coffee for both of them. They were about twelve hours from Bobby's and Dean planned on driving straight through.

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Darkness had chased away the light of day as Dean turned onto the road leading to the salvage yard. Dean slowed down when he saw the salvage yard ahead and signaled to turn into driveway. He pulled up to the house and parked, killing the engine.

"Hey, we're here." Dean called to his brother shaking his shoulder to wake him.

The huddled form of his brother grunted and began to move around when he realized the car had stopped moving. He looked out and recognized the junkyard before opening the door and getting out.

Dean had moved to the Impala's trunk and was getting their bags out as Sam stumbled out of the car taking a second to get his balance. He stretched his tall body trying to get the kinks out of his back when Dean shoved his bag in his arms before heading for the door.

"Boys!" Bobby greeted from the porch. He had heard the Impala pull in and was waiting for them on the porch.

"Bobby, good to see ya." Dean smiled accepting Bobby's brief hug.

"Bobby." Sam spoke dully stopping beside Dean for a moment. "I'm gonna head on upstairs."

Bobby frowned and watched the young hunter head into the house and up the stairs. He turned to his brother who looked worried as he followed his brother with his eyes until he disappeared up the stairs.

"Wanna tell me what's going on son?"

"Got a cold one?" Dean sighed heading inside.

"Yeah, fridge."

Dean dropped his bag at the stairs and followed Bobby into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of beers out of the fridge. He joined Bobby at the kitchen table setting a beer in front of him before dropping into a seat across from him.

Bobby eyed the young hunter as he took a long draw on the beer before sitting it down and picking at the label as his mind whirled quickly. Bobby waited patiently as he watched the emotions flitting across Dean's face.

Dean stared hard at the beer as he wet his lips before steeling himself to speak.

"That last hunt really did a number on him." Dean spoke softly without looking up. He knew Bobby didn't know what had happened on the hunt, only they took out two werewolves.

"Wanna elaborate son?"

"We knew after seeing the body, it was a werewolf attack. At first we thought he was killing because of this girl Madison. She was a nice girl; Sam took a liking to her. He stayed to protect her and I went looking for a jealous ex-boyfriend thinking he was the werewolf." Dean recited while staring at his bottle of beer. "We were wrong, wasn't the ex, it was that girl Madison. I tagged her with a silver knife, but she knocked me out. I called Sam when I came to and he tied her up until I could get back to her place. What was strange, when we questioned her, she knew nothing about turning and killing people. No memory at all, she thought we were nuts, psychos." Dean laughed humorlessly.

Bobby sipped on his beer as he waited patiently for him to continue at his own pace.

"Dad had a theory that maybe if ya killed the werewolf that bit someone, it would cure them. I didn't really think it would work, but Sam, he was adamant at trying it, he wanted to save Madison. She was innocent, she never asked for that. I went hunting for the werewolf and Sam stayed with her. She broke loose when the moon came out, but Sam got her in a closet and I found the one who bit her. It was her neighbor, a shy, nerdy guy, whom had no idea either. You ever hear of that Bobby?"

"No, can't say I have."

"Poor bastard didn't have a clue. He died not understanding why I shot him. We staked out Madison's apartment, you know just to be sure, but she saw us and invited us to wait upstairs with her. That was the longest night I think I've had, but she didn't turn. We actually thought it worked, that she was cured. I left, you know hoping Sammy would score with her. He called me that night, she had changed and he couldn't stop her from getting away. We looked for her all night but didn't find her. She called Sam early that morning in a panic. She had no idea where she was or what had happened. We went and got her, there was blood on her clothes. It destroyed her knowing that she probably killed someone again. She asked Sam to kill her; she couldn't live knowing that she was killing people and had no control over it." Dean sighed sipping on the beer to wet his dry mouth. "She wanted Sam to do it becase she couldn't do it herself. I offered to do it, but he wouldn't let me. He took his gun and ended her life. Afterwards, he changed. I think it broke him. He doesn't sleep, won't eat, he's going out and getting falling down drunk, hell he won't take a shower unless I fuss at him and the nightmares are still happening even thought he tries to hide it."

"Dean, you know Sam's too sensitive for his own good. That kid has a heart of gold and wants to save everyone and you and I know that's not always possible." Bobby explained. "If that didn't affect yer brother, I would be extremely concerned. From what yur telling me, I'd say he's going through a bout of depression. Hell! We've all had a touch of it one time or another. It's comes with the hunter life. Has he talked to ya 'bout it?"

"No, I've tried, but he keeps shutting me out, won't talk to me. It's not like I can take him to a shrink and say, my brother had to shoot a girl he screwed because she turned out to be a werewolf and was killing people."

"Don't quit trying, he's gonna need somebody to help him through this."

"Ya know I won't, he's my brother."

"Ya know, it might not be a bad idea to check out depression online. Learn more 'bout it, what ya can do, what ya need to be lookin' for."

"Yeah, that does sound good." Dean nodded, getting up and heading for his bags. He brought his laptop back to the kitchen table and opening it up.

Bobby left his adopted son at the table pouring over his computer, lost in his research. He planned on doing a little of his own in hopes of helping his family. He didn't want either brother facing this alone.

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It was several hours later that Dean finally closed his laptop rubbing his tired eyes. He didn't know there could be so much information out there on depression. It had overloaded his mind with all the data. He pulled his tired body up from the table and made his way upstairs.

Dean stopped in the doorway of their bedroom and looked in on his sleeping brother. Sam had left a small lamp on between the bed and the glow reflected off his pinched face. Even in sleep he couldn't seem to find rest. Dean turned to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get rid of the beers he just consumed.

As quietly as he could, Dean walked to his bed and sat down to unlace and remove his boots. He didn't even bother to change clothes before stretching out on his bed. He didn't bother to turn the dim lamp off, thinking maybe it gave his brother some comfort. Between the twelve hour drive and the several hours of research, he was exhausted and sleep pulled him under quickly.

spn

Sam lay still for five more minutes as he listened to Dean's breathing even out and before opening his eyes and looking at his shadowed profile. He had dozed for a few minutes until her face invaded his dreams and woke him. He slowly sat up being sure Dean didn't move as his socked feet hit the floor. Sam hadn't bothered to change clothes except to shed his long sleeved shirt. He stood by the bed for a moment before heading for the door as quietly as he could.

Someone had left a small lamp on in the living room that cast the room in shadows. He looked around but didn't see Bobby in either room as he made his way to the kitchen. Not wanting to disturb Bobby, he left the kitchen light off and used the light from the outdoor lighting in the back yard to move around the room. Sam opened the cabinet where Bobby kept his liquor and moved the bottles around clinking them loudly as he found the whiskey. Sam paused and looked over his shoulder waiting to see if anyone heard.

There were clean glasses in the dish strainer and he picked one up sitting it on the table. Sam opened the bottle and poured a large shot of whiskey into the glass. He stilled himself and downed the fiery liquid in one gulp, coughing softly as the whiskey burned his throat and spread warmth through his body. He poured another shot and hesitated for only a moment before gulping it down too. He sat the glass by the bottle before stepping to the cabinets and started opening each one. He searched for Bobby's first aid kit and found it on his fifth try, pulling it from the shelf. Sam had just unzipped the bag and opened it when the light for the kitchen flipped on startling him.

"Sam?" Bobby questioned carefully watching Sam's expression turn to one of a deer caught in headlights. He un-cocked the gun he was pointing and let it hang to his side glad he recognized the young hunter's form in the dim light. "What ya doing son?"

"I-er-I had a headache..." he said quickly zipping the kit back up and shoving it in the open cabinet. "I was looking for some aspirin." he finished as he felt his cheeks grow hot, embarrassed at being caught.

"Hm-m." Bobby replied glancing at the bottle and glass on the table and back at Sam not believing a word he was saying. He looked at his adopted son's bloodshot, red rimmed eyes and the grey pallor of his face as Sam fidgeted trying to look innocent. "There's a bottle in yer bathroom upstairs, where it always is."

"Ok...Sure...Thanks." he answered taking one step to the fridge for a bottle of water and turning to the table reaching for the bottle of whiskey.

"That's ok; I'll put that away for yer." Bobby commented as he watched Sam's hand tremble slightly just inches from it. He saw a sad look cross his face for a split second before disappearing leaving a blank look. Sam nodded slightly and started to walk out of the room when Bobby's voice stopped him. "Son, ya know... If ya wanna talk about anything, me and yer brother are here. Ya don't need to do this alone." he spoke softly like he was afraid of scaring him off.

Sam still has his back to Bobby as his posture stiffened slightly and his steps faltered for a moment before continuing on toward the stairs without answering him. Bobby stared sadly at the troubled boy as he walked slowly up the steps hoping he would confide in either him or Dean and not let this guilt eat him alive. He took the whiskey bottle and capped it, putting it back in the cabinet. It didn't get pass the older hunter that Sam was searching for something and it might be a good idea to talk to Dean in the morning about Sam's midnight roaming. They both needed to keep a close on him until he pulled himself out of this depressive state.