Disclaimer - I own nothing, more's the pity.

Warning - Shitload of angst and language.

Alex, I hope you're enjoying the ride ;)

3 - Darkest Part

His knees nearly gave out from under him and if it weren't for the sink he managed to hold on to in the last second he would have been kissing the dirty tiles of the diner's similarly dirty bathroom right now.

Fuck!

Of all the places he could have chosen to have lunch at today he chose this place. And if the fact that he would cowardly rather hide and run from this than face it and take the blame for the mess he had made when he was a demon didn't make the pile come up rushing in his throat, he didn't know what would.

Dean stumbled towards the bathroom stalls and barely made it into the closest empty one before all the coffee he had consumed through the day decided to make another appearance.

Seconds later, he could hear pounding on the door but was too busy emptying his stomach contents to answer.

''Dean, are you okay?''

And leave it to Sam to ask the million-dollar question, like whether he was okay or not or everything was okay or not, when he already knew that nothing was okay. Not since the day Dean borne the mark.

So instead of answering, Dean spat the taste of vomit in the toilet, flushed it and walked out of the bathroom stall and to the sink, bypassing his brother like he wasn't even there. Dean caught his own reflection in the stained mirror above the sink and averted his eyes quickly. He then rinsed his mouth and splashed his face with the cold water, and if Sam noticed the ashen, grey color of Dean's pale face, he chose not to point it out. And for that Dean was grateful.

Sam was a smart man. More than that, he understood Dean's mechanism, he knew when exactly to push and when to keep his mouth shut—especially lately.

So when he turned to face his little brother who was favoring him with an openly concerned expression, and couldn't really look him in the eye, Sam only said one word.

''Okay?''

''Fine.''

He was acting anything but fine and he knew it, but he couldn't bring himself to explain everything to Sam right now, if at all. His skin was already beginning to crawl and he needed to get out of here. He needed to get out of here now.

And maybe Sam was really able to read his mind because what he said next was, ''Okay, let's go.'' and turned to lead the way out of the small bathroom and the whole diner and Dean could have kissed him if he wasn't buried deep into the darkest part of his memories.

Dean couldn't help but catch a quick glimpse of the diner on his way out and found that Caroline was nowhere in sight and he was fairly certain that she was hiding. Hiding from him. Not that he could really blame her. Dean swallowed hard at the thought.

On his way to the Impala, he wondered if he would ever have the chance to talk to her again, would be ever able to explain to her what happened back then, not for his own sake but for hers. She deserved that much. He didn't expect her to ever forgive him anyway, even if everybody did, it wasn't like he would ever be able forgive himself.

….

Heavy silence hung in the air like a third company between the brothers. Neither of them said a word on their way back to the motel, but that didn't stop Sam from steeling glances at his brother every couple of minutes.

Dean's whole body was tense; he held the steering wheel with a death grip, enough to make his knuckles go white and his fingers to probably be hard to flex later, and his lips were clamped shut together, forming a thin line and making his jaw tighten to almost the point of breaking, the burn on his right thigh long since forgotten.

Sam tried to connect the dots and try to maybe partially understand what was going on but the dots weren't nearly enough and the gaps in between were so wide. Silently, he went through each time him and Dean were separated long enough for his brother to get into trouble with a girl, and the possibilities were too many to sift through given that they did separate more than Sam wanted to count. But after seeing Dean's reaction back there in the diner he was willing to bet that whatever happened between Dean and that girl was at the time his brother was still a demon.

Dean had that look on his face, the pained, guilt-ridden expression that only accompanied the mark and the whole demon thing. Sure his brother lived his whole life smothering himself in a wave after wave of guilt, but it had never been as massive as this. This was different—and Sam could actually understand.

He has been there once himself; he had succumbed to addiction and gave himself up to his own dark side. He had caused an irreparable damage to the world and hurt his brother in ways he could have never imagined he was able to. And it took him a very long time to come to terms with everything he had done and even more time to be able to make some peace with himself.

But unfortunately, knowing his brother, the world would end before Dean even considered the idea of forgiving himself. Sam sighed.

When they finally reached the motel, Dean got out of the car and into their room too fast and without a word and Sam took a minute to breathe through the panic that was for some reason starting to rise in his chest. He took two deep, calming breaths and followed his brother.

His efforts to stave off the panic were useless though, because what he saw when he entered the room almost crippled him with fear.

Dean sat on the edge of his bed, elbows propped up on his thighs and his fingers were tightened into his short cropped hair, looking to the world like he was trying to pull it out or something. He was shaking badly and his body language screamed barely contained rage.

It wasn't until Sam crouched in front of his brother and touched his knee gently, afraid to startle him, that he realized Dean wasn't even aware of him being in the room before Sam touched him. His brother jerked violently, his head snapped up, and Sam found two wide eyes, with barely a hint of green in them, staring back at him with such naked fear.

''Dean?'' Sam nearly whispered, treating his brother like he would a wounded animal and slowly moved closer to put a reassuring hand on Dean's knee once again.

''Don't.'' The warning was clipped, and Sam stopped mid motion, staring at his brother whose expression hardened once again and wasn't looking at him anymore. ''Don't touch me!''

''Okay, alright,'' Sam raised his hands in a sign of surrender. He didn't understand what was going on; he couldn't even begin to grasp what the hell was happening in his brother's head. All he knew was that he needed to be very careful right now—any wrong move would set his brother off and Sam was mostly sure things would get ugly from there.

So he did the only thing he could do. He stood and turned to sit on his own bed and waited his brother out. He didn't care how long it would take for Dean to snap out of it—whatever it was—he would wait all the same.

After a while, Dean's hard breathing started to get back to normal, he stopped clenching and unclenching his fists and looked like he finally regained some control. It was Sam's cue to break the silence.

''You okay?'' He asked softly, and watched Dean nod and scrub his face with his hands.

''So, what was that back there at the diner?'' He pushed and watched Dean sigh and shudder like a five-year old would do after crying for hours.

''You don't really want to hear this one, Sam.'' Dean said tiredly, finally—finally—turning his head and looking at him.

''It doesn't matter,'' Sam said without missing a beat. ''I'll listen as long as you talk.''

Dean nodded, took a deep, shaky breath and began. ''Her name is Caroline. We met at the bar on the skirts of the town a coupla months ago—she worked there—and well, we hooked up and spent the night together.''

A couple of months ago. Dean left it to him to do the math, like he didn't even stand saying it.

''And…well, as you know, I was a dick back then and uh—um in the middle of it she told me to stop and I – I didn't.'' Dean wasn't the one known to be shy when he talked about his sex life. In fact, more often than not he would be teasing Sam for being so awkward with women when it just came naturally to him. But right now he was having troubles putting the words together, but nonetheless, Sam understood what he was trying to say and felt his heart sink to his stomach.

Horrified, Sam didn't say anything as Dean seemed to be unable to stop talking now that he finally started so he listened. ''She thrashed and screamed and I just kept going, and that wasn't just it. There was something wrong with her, I mean not physically, like a trauma or something. She was hysterical and I –'' Dean stopped, and Sam saw him swallow a couple of times as if trying to hold back a wave of nausea before he continued.

''I—gosh—I fucking taunted her, Sam! After I finally let her go. And that's not even all of it.''

There's more? Sam almost blurted out, his eyes long since gone wide at the horror story Dean was telling.

''The next day we—I went to the bar to find her but she was long gone, left the job but not the town. And so help me God, I fucking tracked her down and found her working at a diner—that damn diner.'' Dean gritted out from between clenched teeth, his right hand rubbing absently over the burnt flesh under the jeans of his right thigh.

Sam didn't miss the 'we' in Dean's story, which probably referred to him and Crowley, but he still said nothing. It was almost physically painful to watch his brother like this and Sam almost asked him to stop, told him that he didn't need to go further, that he didn't want to know the rest—that it didn't matter. Except that he had to know and it did matter.

''I don't know exactly what I had in mind then, I don't know why I followed her, but it really doesn't matter anyway. It's not like I need a frigging reason to hurt people for my own sadistic pleasure.'' Self-loathing was leaking from every word Dean said and Sam wanted to protest. He could almost see it in his own mind. Like a black, bitter acid dripping in tow with the words coming out from Dean's mouth and burning and eating at the skin of Dean's lips, chin, neck, face and every piece of flesh it reached or touched.

''What happened then was a version of what happened today, only messier.'' Dean continued. ''She freaked out when she saw me and I went to grab her but the manager or whatever jumped me first and – let's just say he didn't know what he was up against. He barely got out alive, by then someone had called the cops and Crowley had to drag me outta there before things got ugly. Well, uglier.'' Dean finished with a bitter smile, and buried his head into his hands once again.

Sam was silent for a moment and surely Dean wouldn't blame him. It was a lot to take in, so damn hard to believe. But then again, Sam was there to watch Dean beat the shit out of an innocent man and slash at him physically and emotionally. He was there for Dean to play him, to taunt him. To try to kill him.

But that wasn't Dean. That wasn't his brother. It was a demon. Except it still was Dean. And at this very moment Sam had squat to say to.

''It wasn't you, Dean.'' He finally said after a long moment of silence, because dammit, that thing wasn't his brother. He knew Dean more than anyone in the world, and Dean had so much light inside him that could easily outweigh the darkness. And if that wasn't true, he wouldn't be suffering too much now for what his demonic self had done.

He saw Dean's eyes snap up to meet his with an incredulous expression, like Sam had just grown another head, before he stood so fast it made them both dizzy for a second.

''Did you just not listen to a word I said, Sam?'' Dean yelled. ''I just told you I practically fucking raped an already traumatized girl and that wasn't even all of it and you tell me it wasn't me?''

''Because it wasn't you, Dean!'' Sam rose to his feet and used his height to tower over his brother. ''If I recall correctly, I was the one who cured you!''

''Exactly, Sam!'' Dean yelled again. ''You were there; you are the one who messed being beheaded by his own fucking brother by a frigging miracle.''

''It wasn't you.'' Sam stood his ground and repeated stubbornly and Dean just stared at him.

Taking a step back, Dean's face hardened before he said, ''Okay. Let's say you're right. Let's say that it wasn't me. But the one who slaughtered these guys not a week ago in cold blood? I'm pretty sure that was me, Sam.'' What started as a burst of anger ended into a whimper of his name.

''What is it gonna take to make you understand that this is who I am now, Sammy?'' Dean asked desperately, looking like he was on the brink of a meltdown or falling over right on his face. ''What is it gonna take to make you run as far away from me as possible and save yourself?''

Sam didn't even register moving, but once the words were out of his brother's mouth he found himself in Dean's face. His hands fisted Dean's shirt before he snatched him forward roughly that their faces were mere inches away and he could feel Dean's startled, harsh breath on his face.

''Nothing—nothing will ever make me run away from you, Dean! Unless you forgot, we're in this together!''

''Sammy—''

''No! Don't 'Sammy' me! I get it, I really do. I know how hard it is to fight the mark every damn second of the day, Dean! I know how it seems fucking impossible to hold back the desire to do the one thing that will smother the noises—the one thing that gives you some sort of a fucked up relief. I know how it feels like it's not even worth it to fight anymore! But it's not true, Dean. It's fucking worth it and you can't give up, I won't let you!'' Sam was practically panting and had to let go of his brother—who was looking back at him with a pained expression—before he punched him.

''Besides, you never gave up on me. You never left me to face up against my own darkness alone, Dean. Even when I didn't even have a soul, you were there. Even when I tried to kill you—more than once, you were always still there and you never left my side. Not once.'' Sam added softly after getting his desperation somewhat under control, but the swell of emotions was still rising in his chest and making his eyes sting with unreleased tears. ''Why would you think I wouldn't do at least the same for you?''

Dean swallowed, blinked and just like that all the emotions were erased off his face. He looked away then turned and walked to the door.

''I need some air.'' He said quietly and was out of the room before Sam even had the chance to call after him.

Mentally exhausted, Sam let his body fall on the bed and buried his head into his hands.

What was he supposed to do now?

Tbc ..

I hope you enjoyed. Reviews are really appreciated.

PS - There's a new Wee!Chesters one-shot fiction coming up soon. Stay toned. ;)

Have a nice day!

Aya S.