Keep on fighting to remember
That nothing is lost in the end.

-Tegan and Sara, Burn Your Life Down

Chapter 4

As Dean comes around to the conscious world, the only thing he can think is, "No more gin. Ever.' It felt like a brick had been dropped on his head and his stomach was probably almost eaten all the way through, judging by the pain in it. He cracks his eyes open and immediately regrets it as the sunlight assaults him without mercy. Jesus, why the hell didn't Sam close the blinds? He groans and rolls over to look at the digital clock, which is blaring the numbers 2:23 pm. His eyes widen in surprise and then squint in confusion, why didn't Sam wake him up? Sure, he stumbled in around 3 a.m. drunker than he thought possible without the consequence of death, but that's never stopped his brother from dragging him out of bed before. Maybe he tried to and Dean was just too out of it. Sam has never been one for patience. Honestly Dean is shocked that he slept that late at all. Sleep hasn't really been his best buddy lately. He considers getting three hours of sleep grounds for the record books. He closes his eyes again and rolls over onto his back, trying to find the energy to get out of bed.

"Sam?" He croaks, his voice sluggish from pain and sleep.

He's met with an evident silence that slowly starts to form a pit in his already nauseous stomach. His eyes open again and he glances around. That's when he notices the distinct lack of little brother in the room. He sits up as quickly as possible with the pain in his head and looks around before his eyes come to rest on the white piece of paper lying on the opposite bed, with Sam's cell phone looming next to it. Dean can feel his heart pause and the pit in his stomach widens into a chasm.

"Don't let that be what I think it is," he mutters out loud into the quiet.

Dean scrambles out of bed, blatantly ignoring how his body screams in protest, and snatches up the piece of paper.

It'll be better this way.
Keep fighting, Dean.

-Sam

"Damnit, Sam!" Dean shouts and whips the piece of paper away from him.

Dean's bombarded with too many emotions for him to deal with in his damaged, hung over state. They rush him with the force of a hurricane. He grabs the note again and re-reads the sentences four more times. He can't decide if he's more scared that Sam's gone or more angry that he left. Anger quickly becomes the more dominant of the two emotions. That stupid, selfish bastard. Dean can't believe he left again. He can't believe that after Sam begged him to open up about hell that he'd take off days after Dean did so. He couldn't believe that Sam'd leave him to face this shit by himself. Goddamn it they're a team, they fight through this crap together. Suddenly Dean feels like a real hypocrite thinking this because lately they've barely been brothers, let alone a team. That's when it hits Dean that this has probably been coming for weeks, maybe even months, and he just didn't see it. Or maybe he saw it and he just didn't care. He's been doing a lot of not caring lately. Maybe he's just been caring about the wrong things, he's not really sure any more.

He runs his hand over his face as he looks at the note again. It'll be better this way. Is Sam right? Are they better off apart? He sits down on the bed, scrunching the note in his hand even more. What the hell is wrong with him? If this had happened six months ago, Dean would be frantic trying to think of all the possible places that his little brother would take off to. He'd be scared out of his mind, wondering if something had happened to Sam. Then he'd kick himself for not looking out for the kid. Then he'd find Sam and drag his ass back to where ever Dean was. Sam and Dean, that's the way it is, the way it's always been. So why is he still sitting in the motel thinking that maybe they really are better off without one another? Have they really drifted that far apart? Is he seriously considering letting Sam go?

Dean thinks back over the past few months. He runs through the conversations that they've had since he got back and realizes that there aren't many. He thinks about hitting his brother and how Sam didn't seem to be all that surprised that he did it. He thinks about how scared he looked when Dean told him that the angels would stop him if Dean didn't. He thinks about how much colder Sam is now than before Dean went to hell. He thinks about the secrets they've kept from each other and the lies they've told. Then he thinks about their dad and how disappointed he'd be if he knew how they've been treating each other.

Dean can almost immediately feel the guilt settle into his gut like a stone. Things have gotten so messed up and Dean had felt it brewing from day one. When he got back from hell he should've talked to his brother more, found out how he was, what happened while he was dead. He should've taken more time to make sure he was ok. He should've helped him. He should've been the older brother that he's supposed to be. He should've, should've, should've. But he didn't and now Sam's gone.

And now Dean doesn't know what he's supposed to do. The internal alarm, the fucking thing that sends him into a panic when Sam's missing, hurt, or being threatened, seems to be busted. That scares the hell out of Dean. It means things are really bad. Not just the month or two after their dad died bad, but bad enough to where he's still considering just letting Sam go…letting Sam disappear.

Dean un-crinkles the note in his hand and skims it over again. The sentences glare at him as if Sam's chicken scratch is trying to drill their way into his brain. The words hit home and Dean can feel it. Sam's gone and who knows where he is. Dean's damaged, probably to the point of being unfixable. The apocalypse is coming and Dean doesn't know how to stop it. And Sam wants him to keep fighting. As crazy as it sounds, things suddenly don't seem so wrong because in a nutshell, that's what Dean Winchester's life has been: missing things and people, damage and pain, evil bastards that need killing, and the never ending fight to just be okay. That's his life, what he goes through day in and day out. The only thing that keeps him together besides saving people along the way is Sammy. Sam hunting with him, Sam trying his damndest to help Dean even when he doesn't want it, Sam just being Sam. Nothing has really changed because Sam still does all those things. The thing that has changed is the way he responds to Sam. Dean's always looking out for Sam and making sure he's okay. He's always protecting him fiercely as if he were the last good thing in his life. Because he is. Sam is all he's got left, all he has to fight for, all he has to die for.

Just like that, something inside Dean switches. The dormant big brother comes out of hiding. He has to get Sam back. He has to tell him that he hasn't forgotten that they're brothers, that they're in this together, that he's sorry.

The only problem is that he had no idea where Sam would go. Not a damn clue. Dean stands up from the bed and marches through the room, gathering up the little that he had brought into the motel room. Then without looking back, he gets into the Impala and peels out of the motel parking lot. He has a little brother to find.

You've been planning to remember this
So nothing is lost in the end.