A/N: Wow, the best response to a chapter so far! I guess you guys just like it when I almost kill off the main characters? Does this mean I should do it again? (okay, just kidding. Most of you are camped outside my panic room with torches and pitchforks and hellhounds and I-don't-even-wanna-know what else. ha...)

Guys! We broke 50 reviews in the first seven chapters! Wow! I have the best readers ever, okay. Thanks to Naivaraeladrin, EmCWolf, ellie . reynolds . 777, sammysmissingshoe, afreckledangel, Sara B (aw thanks! I like that scene too (: ), Jenna, Falchion, and Sharllissa for reviewing. You guys are the best and the whole reason this story keeps going, so...yeah. You rock. Onto the chapter! Enjoy!

-Jaq


Dean watches Sam as his brother sizes up, squirming against the wall with a petrified look on his face. That isn't the worst of it, though. The worst part is that Sam looks relieved. Frightened, yes. But he also looks as if he's been waiting for this, and is glad it's finally over.

Sam suddenly stops moving around, as though he's given up. He straightens, sitting so he's square to Dean, and looks up with dead, tired eyes. Dean's frozen. He had pulled out the gun in order to set it down, show Sam that he wouldn't shoot him, but now...he can't move, just stand there watching his brother.

"Just do it. Just end it! If Sam ever meant anything, anything a all, then just DO it! Stop drawing it out!" Sam snaps, an eerily lucid few seconds. Enough of a response for Dean to hope that maybe Sam's finished with the hallucinations and confusion, but not enough for him to believe it.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?" he says, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"JUST PUNISH ME!" Sam screams, his eyes bugging out and his weak body straining against itself.

Dean's struck speechless. He opens his mouth and then closes it, unsure of what to say or do. Slowly, he reaches out with his left hand, until it's about two inches in front of Sam's face. Then, not too hard, he flicks Sam in between his brother's eyes. "There you go, Sammy," he says, his voice thick from crying. "There's your punishment." The attempt at humor may have been inappropriate for the situation, but it was all Dean could think of.

Sam just looks down, at Deans's feet. Softly, he starts humming. Dean leans his head in closer- Bohemian Rhapsody. Why Sam would hum that was beyond him, but he takes it in stride. Slowly, looking at Sam all the time, he crouches down. "I- I couldn't kill you, Sammy, and I- I jus' wanna make sure you know that." He places the gun down, the weapon making a clink on the floor.

He sees Sam's eyes dart from the gun back up to Dean, and sees them fill with tears. Dean's a little confused- tears of joy maybe? He isn't sure.

"D'n..."

"Yeah, Sam?" Dean leans in closer.

"I...don' wanna die. I sometimes wish I'd never been born...at all..." Sam says thickly, half-singing the lyrics. His tears have spilled over, and they form little shining trails down his face.

"No, Sammy. It's just a song. You matter, okay? Really."

Sam reaches out and grabs Dean's wrist. The ghost of a laugh flits across his face, and Dean's confused- but he smiles hesitatnly. Laughing is a good sign, right?

And then it all turns sour. With the hand not holding Dean, Sam snatches up the gun. Mentally, Dean curses himself for letting a loaded weapon be within his brother's reach, and tries to grab it out of his brother's hand. He's too slow, caught too unaware. He shouldn't have to worry, though, have to be aware, that's the thing.

The next second, the gun goes off, and Dean feels a wave of agony pierce through his stomach, on the left side. He groans and keels over, incapacitated but still able to watch with horror as Sam stares at the gun, and then slowly turns it so the barrel is pointing towards his own chest.

Dean swears loudly. Not this. His one consolation is that Sam isn't pointing it at his temple, for some reason. No, he's got it pressed against his chest. Which might keep Sam living long enough for help to get there. Dean flinches as the second gunshot goes off, and Sam makes a pained expression before slumping over. There's no instant replay, no time-slows-down, just...one slump. And that's the worst part of it all.

Damn, it hurts. Everything. Dean tenses his jaw so much that his teeth hurt, too, but he manages to get over to Sam and grab his brother's wrist. No pulse. Please, please, please... Dean crashes for a second before remembering that bruising can sometimes hide a pulse, and reaches his hand up to his brother's carotid. Seconds fly by, and with each one so does Dean's hope.

Then.

Weak, but it's there. Thump-thump. A pulse.

Alright, Cas, I'll do anything, just get down here and heal my brother, Dean prays, pleading. After cracking his eyes open and finding no trench-coat-clad angel, he does the next best thing.

"BOBBY!"


A/N 2: Well, you do realize I could have left it at just Sam shooting Dean and then himself, right? At least I gave you a little bit of reassurance. Review, please? Thanks for reading!

-Jaq