Disclaimer: I own nothing.

For the past ten minutes Sam has been talking about their hunt but Dean could take no more of that indifferent professional tone. It was literally killing him. He was tired of detachment, tired of feeling completely, utterly alone, tired of Sam pretending that everything is as it should be, tired of tiptoeing around Sam these days, tired of being afraid every night that Sam will be gone for good in the morning, tired of the burden that Dad's last words had put on him, tired of… He had to stop it. Stop it right now.

"Sam! Mind telling me what was going in that crazy head of yours for the past two weeks?" he finally snapped, before he had time to change his mind.

Sam turn his head from his laptop towards Dean and frowned: "What are you talking about, Dean?"

"Sam, don't give me this confused look! You know much better than I do that something's wrong. And you know what it is! While I don't! So just spill out cause I'm really tired of you behavior!" Dean almost shouted. It was a rare situation when it was Dean who was trying to coax his brother to tell him what was bothering him. Usually it happened the other way round.

Sam shook his had and shrugged: "Dean, I told you everything's okay. I have nothing to tell you. So, please just calm down".

But he wasn't looking Dean in the eyes. If anything, he was avoiding looking at Dean at all. His eyes were jumping from his laptop to the walls to the TV. He was looking at anything but Dean.

"Sam, look at me!" Dean commanded.

Sam sight but pursed his lips and looked straight in Dean's eyes. And Dean was taken aback by what he saw there. Anger, desperation, fear, tiredness. When was the last time we locked gazes? Dean asked himself, wearily. Whenever it have been, there was nothing compared to all these in Sam's eyes. He might have seen pain then. And worry. But not this horrible mixtures of different pains.

"Sam," Dean almost whispered. What's up? Why are you so angry at me?"

Sam looked away, sight and bit on his lower lip: "Dean. I am not angry. Not at you, anyway".

"Yeah, and that's way you've been acting like I am some annoying guy in college, Sam. Like, you know, you were assigned to work with him. But you don't really know him or want to know. Are you so tired of me, Sammy?!" – Dean spat angrily, momentarily forgetting about Sam's attitude towards his nickname.

"I am not tired of you, Dean," – surprisingly, Sam let his nickname slide for now. "But you seem to be tired of me. Judging by the way you've been acting recently."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean looked at his brother in disbelieve. He could never get tired of his brother. Never. No matter how annoying, selfish or too clever his brother was, he could never get tired of him, not really.

"Well, you are doing a great job of showing it, Dean!"

Realization dawned on him. Or he thought it did. "Sam, I didn't make deal with that demon! There is nothing to be angry about!"

"Yeah, you didn't. Thanks for that, at least." Sam laughed bitterly. "But I know that you considered the possibility. No. Don't interrupt me! You did. Don't lie to me. You answered my question well enough then. But… But tell me… How can I be sure that you won't take the deal later?

"Sam…" Dean tried to stop him but Sam kept talking.

"You know, some other demon. Some other type of deal. And you'll leave me. And there will be nothing I will be able to do. Nothing I will say will stop you. Nothing I will do will stop you. Cause no matter what I say or do, no matter how I try to help you, you shut me out, shove me away, put this smiling mask of yours on and pretend that everything's fine! When I know that it's a bunch of crap!"

Oh no… They were getting there again. Dean was in no state to survive a chick-flick moment with dignity right now.

"But it's obvious that you don't want my help, do you? You just want to get yourself killed or let pain and guilt eat you!" Sam was crying now and didn't even try to stop the tears.

"No, Sammy!" Dean managed to say.

"No? But that's exactly what you are doing. And I don't seem to be able to help. And that's why I am angry. Cause I just don't see a way to help. But I can't watch you do this to yourself as well. May be I am a coward but I can't."

Right. Now he will tell me that he is leaving me. I would let him go, even though I know that it would kill me. I would. If Dad hasn't told me to protect Sam and save him. I can't let him go. No! No!

"So, I can't help you. And I can't watch you destruct yourself. So I just thought that may be, just may be I could detach myself. You know, pretend as if I don't care. May be I will even believe in it, some day" Sam let out a frustrated pained sort of laughter.

Dean just stared at his brother, shocked and confused. He had expected something like: "Open up, Dean. We'll figure something out, Dean. Let me help you cause I am your brother, Dean. You don't need me, Dean, so I am leaving". But this was something absolutely knew. Dean just had trouble understanding that this stupid crossroads demon had triggered all this turmoil in Sam's head. And there was nothing Dean could tell his brother without loosing it completely, without crying or sounding clingy or needy.

"But the problem is, Dean, that I can't stop caring. I can't stop worrying. Even if you don't need me. I simply can't. I am sorry," Sam whispered. Then he got up, absently dried tears from his face and made his way to the door.

"Where the hell are you going, Sam?" Dean demanded angrily, doing all he could not to sound frightened or upset. Unfortunately, he succeeded in that. If Sam looked back at his brother, he would have seen tears in his eyes. Unfortunately, he didn't look at Dean.

"For a walk. I'll be back. Don't worry, I won't take Impala and run away in it. Keys are on the table, by the way," - with that Sam left the room, leaving Dean alone and on the verge of tears. He won't run away in Impala, he said. But he didn't say that he won't run away at all. Well, he said he'll be back. He didn't say when, though. Dean's eyes frantically searched for Sam's bag. It was still near Sam's bed as well as his laptop on it. He won't leave without his laptop. Sure, he won't, Dean told himself sternly.

He lied down on the bed and closed his eyes. He didn't have any strength to run after Sam and talk to him, shout at him, beat this crap he was thinking about Dean out of him…He was exhausted. Emotionally drained by Dad's death, these last two weeks and Sam's confession. He did all he could to stop tears from escaping. But this time he didn't succeed.

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