Summary: Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom before you can climb out.

Feedback: No flames, flying objects or flaming flying objects please

Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'm just playing with them, don't sue me.

DWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDWSWDW

Dean stayed on the floor of the motel room for a long time after Sam had stormed off. The alcohol fueled cloud of anger and suspicion had disappeared and he was stone sober. The realization that Sam didn't trust him to have his back and had been hunting without him was more sobering than ice cold water and hurt more than his now busted nose.

He slowly got to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom and flipped on the lights. His nose was bleeding pretty freely, Sam had a hell of a right. He grabbed some tissues and after a few minutes, managed to stop the blood. He cleaned his face and padded back into the bedroom and sank down onto his bed.

His brother didn't trust him anymore. The little brother he'd raised no longer trusted him to keep him safe on hunts. The realization that he'd lost a lifetime of trust because of his drinking made Dean nauseous.

He could think of plenty of excuses for his drinking: hunting unspeakable things and dealing with the victims and their families, Hell, and a million other reasons. However, he knew that all his reasons for drinking paled in comparison to Sam's and he hadn't seen Sam take a drink of anything harder than the occasional beer in years.

Dean looked around the room, there were bottles all over the room, leftovers of the two six packs he'd bought on his way home from the bar, plus the bottle of Jack he'd nursed last night while Sam was doing research and the bottle of Jim Beam he'd bought after their last hunt. On what had been Sam's side were bottles of water and a few coffee cups from the little diner down the street.

He stared at the room in horror, Sam's side looked normal, but his looked like it belonged to someone with a serious drinking problem. It looked...it looked like what their hotel rooms or apartments used to look like after their dad had gone on one of his major benders.

A flash of all the times Sam had commented on his drinking rang in his ears and realized what Sam had been trying to tell him: 'Your drinking scares me'. He'd ignored or shut Sam down before he could say anything.

He thought about that hunt in Gnawbone, he remembered Sam saying that he was pretty sure that they were hunting a werewolf, but the week before had been Lisa's birthday and the memories of his time with Lisa and Ben and the gnawing guilt he still felt for putting them in so much danger had been eating at him, so he'd gone for a walk and somehow ended up in the bar, drinking, when Sam had come to find him.

The hunt had been bad. Dean winced as he remembered stumbling after Sam, making enough noise to wake the dead. The werewolf had tried to get the drop on them and if it hadn't been for Sam's good aim, Dean would've been dinner. He could remember Sam's angry face as he'd driven them back to the motel and stitched up Dean's shoulder without comment and in the morning, Sam had acted like nothing was wrong, so Dean had assumed that the matter was settled. He should've know better, it wasn't like Sam to not say something when he was mad and if the shoe had been on the other foot, he'd have ripped Sam's ass three ways from Sunday for being so stupid.

Now that he was sober enough to think about it, he remembered numerous hunts that Sam had claimed were dead ends and wondered what else his brother had faced on his own with only Lucifer hallucinations for company. He didn't remember seeing any serious injuries, but Sam had managed to hide his midnight trips with Ruby and the fact that he was soulless for weeks or months before Dean figured it out.

Dean laid back on the bed and the enormity of this mess closed in on him: Sam didn't trust him anymore, he'd managed to fuck up the last stable relationship in his life.

Something hot and wet slid down his face. He brushed it away only to feel more take its place. Finally, he gave up and let the tears fall. He didn't remember falling asleep.

TBC

AN: Yes, I'm horrible. Next part will be up soon. Also, I'm thinking about giving Sam an injury in the next part. Are you guys for that and what should it be?