I have struggled immensely with this chapter so while I don't feel it's the best thing I've ever written, I feel it's the best I could do with this part of the story. Hope you guys continue to hang in there and thanks to those of you who are leaving reviews. They are all greatly appreciated.


Dean knew something was wrong as soon as he pulled the Impala up in Bobby's front yard. Hell, he'd known it before he left. The whole time he was running Bobby's pointless errand he hadn't been able to shake the ominous feeling he'd gotten when Sam had apologized. Castiel was waiting for him on the porch.

"Where's Sam?" Dean pounded up the stairs, trying to push his way through the front door but Castiel was an unmovable force.

"Sam is with Bobby."

Dean tried again to shoulder his way past the angel but Castiel stood his ground.

"Cas, let me go."

"Sam is fine."

"Then what the hell is going on?"

"We have to talk."

"Okay, I'm starting to get that." He was also starting to get annoyed.

"You should….." Castiel steered Dean toward the lone chair on Bobby's porch. "….sit."

"Dammit, Cas. I don't want to sit." He shrugged away from the angel's grasp.

"Sam is with Bobby."

"You said that already, Cas. Could you please get to the point? You're freaking me out."

Dean's heart was thudding against his chest. Whatever Cas had to say, it wasn't good. That much Dean had figured out but what the hell had happened while he was gone? Dean realized whatever it was, the angel was having a hard time putting it into words.

"Your brother tried to take his life."

"What?"

"He used Ruby's knife and tried to end his life."

Dean's knees buckled as his mind fully digested the meaning of the words.

"Sammy?"

Castiel seized him by the arms, guiding him to the chair. Dean sank down, searching Castiel's face for answers.

"He's alive, Dean. Lucifer wasn't lying. He's not going to let Sam die."

"Who knew I'd ever have a reason to be thankful for the devil." He tried to give a sarcastic laugh but it dissolved into a sob.

"Dean, he's al—"

Dean shot up from the chair, tears giving way to insurmountable anger. "DON'T TELL ME HE'S ALRIGHT!"

Dean slung the chair off the edge of the porch, casting his eyes about for something to throw a punch at, anything to take the pain from his heart. Sam was far from alright and Dean was beginning to wonder if being alright was even a possibility anymore. He had made the kid promise not to surrender to Lucifer. He'd never dreamed Sam would be desperate enough to try and kill himself.

"Do you wish to hit me?"

"Yes! I mean, no…." Dean's fists were clenched tight, knuckles turning white. "No, I just…..even if I did, I'd only break my hand."

"I will let down my guard if it will ease your pain."

Dean shook his head, his anger dissipating at Castiel's strange but comforting offer.

"I just want to see Sam."


Dean paused at the bathroom door before heading to Sam's room. He swallowed hard, surveying the damage.

God, Sammy, what were you thinking?

And that was the thing, wasn't it? He really had no idea what Sam was thinking. About anything. Sam, the one who loved to analyze everything and talk it to death, was telling him zip, nada, nothing. Ever since the night Jo and Ellen died Sam had been slowly retreating into his own little world. That was going to stop tonight.

As he turned away he spied a piece of paper lying on the floor. Bending to pick it up, his heart twisted at the words written there.

It's not better this way, Sammy. Not ever.

He ran a weary hand over his face, pushing his own raw emotions into the recesses of his mind. He didn't have time to dwell on how he felt, how much it hurt to think of life without his brother. He had to get through to Sam.

Game face on.

He found Sam sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into space. Bobby was watching him silently from across the room. Dean saw a shadow of guilt cross Bobby's face.

"Dean, I'm sorry. It's my…."

Dean held up his hand. "Bobby, you didn't know."

"But you did, didn't you?"

"I knew something was off, just not this, not…." Dean knelt down in front of his brother. "Sammy, what were you thinking?"

Sam drew a deep breath, turning dark, sorrowful eyes toward him. "How many times do you think I can say no, Dean?"

"As many as it takes, Sam. What alternatives do we have?"

Sam gave a bitter laugh. "Evidently none."

Sam held out his arms for Dean to examine. Large red welts ran down the length of each.

"I cut myself….over and over." Sam's hands were trembling. "Each time they healed. No matter how deep I cut, no matter how savagely I did it. I can't die, Dean. He's not going to let me die."

"Sammy, you have to talk to me." Dean clutched his brother's hands. "You have to tell me what's going on inside that freaky head of yours, okay?"

Sam pulled away, moving to stand beside the window. Dean could see the weariness etched into his brother's face, the hopelessness in his stance.

"Your brother wants to help you, Sam," said Bobby quietly. "We all do."

"Nobody can help me, Bobby." Tears traced a path down his face. "I don't deserve it."

"Sammy…."

"No matter what I do, Dean, I have to live with the fact that I started all this. All these people that keep dying? It's because of me. I did this."

Dean's first instinct was to tell him to stop saying those things because he knew better than anyone how all this had started and it certainly hadn't been because of Sam. But he also knew this was what Sam needed. Sam had been bottling his guilt for too long. It was time to let go.

"I wouldn't listen to you, Dean. I was tired of always being the little brother. I thought I had learned to take care of myself when you were gone. I thought I could prove I was just as good a hunter as you but all I did was prove what an arrogant, stupid bastard I am."

Bobby reached out, touching his arm but Sam jerked away.

"I don't want your pity, Bobby. I just want…….I just….." Sam looked at them helplessly.

"What do you want, Sammy?"

Sam drew a deep breath and Dean saw a determined gleam creep into his brother's eye. "I want to keep Lucifer out of my freaking head. I want just one night's sleep where I don't wake up screaming because I'm afraid I've said yes in my dreams."

Bobby gave a grim smile. "I think we might be able to help you with that."


"Do you really think this will work?" Sam studied the dreamcatcher Castiel had hung over the bed.

"I watched as the medicine man made it. If it doesn't work, nothing will."

"Real comforting there, Cas." Dean clapped a hand on the angel's shoulder.

"Thank you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "That was sar---nope, you know what? Never mind."

Sam managed a smile at the confused look on the angel's face but quickly sobered at the thought of trying to sleep. He was so utterly exhausted but at the same time he was terrified the dreamcatcher wouldn't work. This was his last hope because he knew it was only a matter of time before Lucifer wore his defenses down.

Dean must have read the doubt on his face. "It's gonna work, Sammy."

Sam nodded, stretching out the length of the bed as Dean pulled a blanket over him.

"You're not going anywhere, right?" His voice sounded small and frightened even to his own ears.

"I'll be right here," Dean assured him.

Sam hated his next words before they were even out of his mouth. "I'm really scared, Dean."

"I know, Sammy." Dean perched on the edge of the bed. "Me too."

"I don't know how many more times I can tell him no, Dean. You have no idea what it's like having him roam around inside your head." He bit his lip, determined not to cry again.

"Sammy, you've always been the strongest person I know. Not to mention the most stubborn." Dean gave a small chuckle. "If anyone can hold Lucifer off, it's you."

Sam's eyes grew heavy as Dean continued to murmur words of encouragement. Groggily Sam reached out for his brother, felt Dean grasp his fingers tightly in his own.

The last thing Sam heard before drifting off to sleep was his brother whispering, "Don't ever think I'm better off without you, Sammy, because that's just not true."


Dean glanced at his watch. Sam had been sleeping for six hours without incident. That was the longest he'd slept since…….well, Dean was pretty sure that might be the longest continuous stretch of sleep Sam had had in years.

"It appears to be working."

Dean jumped at the sound of Castiel's voice.

"Dammit, Cas, if you don't quit scaring me like that…." Dean let the threat trail off.

"I have something to discuss with you."

"Can't it wait?" Dean rubbed his eyes. "I really would like to get a few hours sleep of my own."

"I wish I understood this need for sleep. It seems like so much wasted time."

"Our bodies get tired, Cas. My body's so damn tired I could probably sleep for a week." He yawned widely to accentuate the point.

"This can't wait that long." Castiel seemed agitated.

"I'm not really going to sleep that long. Geez, I need to explain sarcasm to you."

The angel really seemed to be having a hard time containing himself. Dean had never seen Castiel show much emotion but if he didn't know better, he'd think the angel was excited about something.

"Okay, spill it. What is so freaking important that I can't have some sleep first?"

"While I was hunting down the dreamcatcher I heard some rumors."

"Through the angelic grapevine?"

"No, from demons."

"Rumors from demons." Dean sighed. "We know how reliable that always is."

Case in point: Crowley and his damn idea of the Colt being able to kill Lucifer.

"Well, what did they say?"

"They were talking about my Father."

"And?"

Castiel's face actually lit into a smile. "I know where to find him now, Dean. I know where to find God."