Sam's hands were shaking as he lifted the gun to his mouth. Was he really about to take his own life? Not that it hadn't crossed his mind before...After Jessica he was pretty messed up. But he'd channeled that reckless, suicidal energy towards revenge. He couldn't leave Dean like that.
But now it would be more selfish to live. He couldn't risk the lives of millions of people. Dean would understand.
Dean. Sam sighed and lowered the gun. He needed to write a note. Some sort of explanation. He didn't want his brother to make another deal.
He left the revolver on the counter and stepped out of the bathroom. His trembling hands held his cell phone above the paper for light as he wrote his last goodbye. Dean was a light sleeper; he couldn't risk turning on the lamp.
Dean,
I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. But you've gotta understand that this is the way it has to be. Lucifer can't possess me if I'm dead. Please don't try to bring me back.
-Sam
PS: I know I've never said this enough, but I love you.
Sam folded the note and placed it on Dean's nightstand. He started towards the bathroom, taking one last look at his brother.
But then the floor creaked.
"S'mmy?" Dean mumbled.
Sam swore internally. "Yeah, just going to the bathroom."
"You were just in there, everything okay?" Dean rolled over, and noticed the folded piece of paper. "What's this?"
"Yeah, yeah! Everything is fine." Sam tried to snatch the suicide note before Dean could, but it was too late. Dean was already turning on the lamp and beginning to read.
"Sam, what the hell is this?" All remnants of sleepiness had left his face.
Dammit.
"It's uh, nothing. It's nothing." Sam wrestled the note from his brother, but his brother had already read it.
In a display of force usually directed at whatever they were hunting, Dean pinned him to the bed. "What the fuck?" He growled. "You were going to kill yourself? Leave me?"
Beneath the fury, Sam could see the fear and heartbreak. "I'm sorry, I just-can we talk about this?"
"We are."
"Can you-you know...off-I can't breathe."
Dean maintained his glare but climbed off, allowing Sam to sit up.
"Just let me expl-"
"There's nothing to explain. You were checking out!"
"Listen, Satan can't wear me to the prom unless I'm alive."
"No. Not an option. He's an angel, Sam! He could just bring you back."
"Then why are you so upset?"
Dean's lip quivered, and he inhaled sharply, trying to regain his composure. "Really?"
"Yeah, what's the big deal? If you're right, he brings me back, and I keep telling him to stick it. If you're wrong, I die, and the apocalypse is stopped. Win-win."
"What's the big deal? You're asking me to just stand by while my little brother fucking commits suicide! I can't do that! Maybe you've forgotten, but I went to Hell for you. I brought you back, and dammit, I'd do it again. I can't lose you!"
Dean's voice broke on the last word, and Sam looked down, ashamed. "I'm sorry." He said quietly.
"Sorry ain't gonna cut it. You're on suicide watch now. I'm not letting you out of my sight."
"I won't try it again." Sam said, being honest. "I...I thought you'd understand that it's for the greater good, but-"
"No, Sam. There's gotta be another way, and we will find it."
"Okay." Sam agreed. Dean was pacing around the room, looking like he was gonna be sick. "Calm down, Dee."
"Don't tell me to calm down! I can't decide whether I wanna hug you, or punch your damn lights out."
Sam smiled weakly. "Maybe both?"
Sorry this chapter is short. I'm headed to my little sister's dance recital. Hopefully I'll be able to update later. What do you think so far? Pleaaaase leave a review.
