In alphabetical order, it's time to give a huge shoutout to my girls: Emmau, Twinchester Angel and twomoms.

You ladies know why and what you do for me! Love you all xox

Special mention to angeleyenc who reviews every chapter in every story I write.

And to everyone else who reviews; thank you so much.

Chapter 8

Sam Winchester glared down at his phone remembering a time he prided himself on doing the right thing. He chuckled a little, attempting to hide any sound from the two men eyeing him to his left. Knowing them…No, knowing him, they'd believe he needed some kind of critical assistance and rush to his aid. They'd interpret his resentful laugh as a self-loathing problem requiring urgent attention no doubt.

But this wasn't about him. Nor did he want them to make it about him. This was about his brother. And his brother was the one who deserved to be helped.

He thought back to a time where Dean poured his juice, packed his schoolbag… gave up his life to suffer in that torturous place called hell. What a mess he'd made of that. Every move he'd made, every footstep in the wrong direction was just another slap across Dean's face.

Good intentions or not, he dragged his kicking and screaming brother down the long, painful, narrow, windy, gravel road leading straight to utter devastation. Every time. Delusion seemed to be the correct diagnosis for his issues – or maybe just utter stupidity. He didn't know exactly, but whatever it was, instead of honoring his brother's sacrifice, he spat in the face of it. And it brought tears to his eyes.

So through blurry vision, he looked down at his phone. Was there anything he could say to make things right this time? Anything that would stop Dean from feeling as though he helped hack into the skin of someone Sam thought unworthy of saving? He didn't think so. But what he did know is that he had to say something. At least try.

Bobby wasn't approving, but Bobby could deal. Cas stood still probably wondering how much longer this would take, wishing for Sam to hurry up so he could flash away and take care of whatever pressing situation was taking place in his weird outer world.

Sam pressed to connect. And waited, inhaling a deep breath.

Dean answered on the first ring. 'Sam? What's wrong? Are you okay?'

Sam took his time to answer, purely in an attempt to manufacture some inspiring answer to convince Dean he was fine. He just needed him home.

'Sam?'

He ran a hand through his hair after resting an elbow on the table and swallowed. 'I'm fine.'

'Oh thank God.'

'Where are you?'

'I don't know.' Dean scanned his forest-like surroundings as they flashed by him at rapid speed. No signs. Had there been any? 'Somewhere.'

Sam nodded forgetting Dean couldn't see him, forgetting the silence would scare him.

'Sam?'

'When are you coming back?'

Dean glared intently at the open road through his dirty windscreen. A wide corner approached but just like every other corner, the mystery of its journey didn't excite him. It just made him sadder. Driving away from his brother hurt, but he was hurting anyway so just like all the others, he turned the steering wheel and gave into its lacking intrigue.

'Dean?' Sam straightened, hope brimming but apprehension peaking.

Dean checked his watch. These turbulent eight minutes had felt like eight hours but they were hours he needed. 'Are you sure you're okay?'

'Yeah. Cas cured me of everything. Not even a sore ankle anymore.'

'Good. That's good.'

'So-?'

'I'll be back later.' Dean said into the phone quickly. 'Catch up with Bobby. You and him have a lot to talk about.'

Sam frowned and scratched his jean and bandage covered leg. This wasn't how he wanted the call to go.

'Dean?' He said craving to say more. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm okay.' Dean closed his eyes. 'I'll be back in a bit.'

Only when Dean disconnected the call, did Sam. The phone lay heavy in his hand. He noticed a small scratch on its side. How did that happen? Did he do it without knowing?

Probably.

'He just needs some time Sam.' Bobby again, repeating the same words to him, but Sam only just heard his mellow voice. His own mind seemed so far away and unresponsive, he worried he was slipping again. 'Looks like you do too.'

'I don't need time.' Sam answered. Bobby took a seat opposite him and clasped his hands together tighter than necessary. Cas correctly read the sideways expression; please leave and please leave now. The angel nodded once and with silence, disappeared.

'He didn't have to go.' Sam said without prying his eyes away from the screen. Maybe he was hoping for Dean to call back, maybe he was contemplating calling back. All he knew for certain; that phone call only increased his concern for his brother.

'Yes he did.' Bobby stated, pulling his chair in closer to the wobbly table. 'Anyway, gives us time to talk about-'

Sam's phone sprung to life and his fingers pounced. 'Dean?' His brother changed his mind, he was coming back to sort this out.

'Leave those bandages on okay?' Sam's guts plummeted. Trust gone again. He got it. It was a fair request but it made him feel sick. Rubbing an eyebrow he realized he really shouldn't be taking this long to reply.

'Yep.' He said with commitment, closing teeth around a dry piece of skin by his thumb.

Dean wanted to tell him it was for precaution sake, a hopeful deterrent, another layer of protection. But to say those words, his own actions would rise and overpower him and all he wanted to do was drive to beating music pulsating through his body. So he disconnected, placed his cell on Sam's seat and spun a u-turn. He would drive, but not too far away. Not far enough that if some kind of emergency arose, he wouldn't be only minutes away from his brother.

oOoOoOo

'So there you have it.' Sam said to Bobby's mesmerized face with less emotion than he felt. Repeating those same sordid details which not so long ago spun his brother and him into a horrifying nightmare caught in his throat, threatening to choke him.

Bobby sat back, removed his dirty blue cap and flung it on the table. Sam waited, concentrating once again on his phone. The older man reached over and gently took it from his shaky hand. Sam's eyes didn't move. He waited, blood pumping a familiar stream of stubbornness yet he didn't know why.

'Oh Sam.'

'Yeah, he screws up again.' The sentence was sarcastic and he regretted it immediately. But he didn't want to talk anymore; not to Bobby. He just wanted to rip those confining bandages off his body to feel less bound to himself.

'I owe you an apology-'

'You don't owe me anything.'

'Sam.' Bobby said definitely. 'I owe you an apology.'

Without gracing the man with a reply, Sam stood and snatched his long sleeved plaid shirt from the end of his bed. Throwing it on seemed easier when his body was lighter and so did walking to the door.

'Where are you going?'

'For a walk.'

As the door closed quietly behind the younger Winchester, Bobby glanced down at the cell lying idly on the table in front of him. Sam's phone. He sighed into the empty room. Maybe both boys did need some space after the anguish they'd just suffered but one thing he knew for certain, if Dean beat Sam back, all hell would break loose.

oOoOoOo

The rock Sam placed himself on was old and large and too hard, but it would do. The stones at his feet offered little to no entertainment after the third or fourth kick and the darkness settling in over him cooled the still muggy air. He thought he wanted to be alone. Thought the only way out was to get away from Bobby. It wasn't like he regretted making the move; he didn't. It was just being this alone, in the dark, with only himself as company, didn't feel like it used to. Or like it ought to.

He wasn't going anywhere though, had no intention to shift. Not even when his stomach started to rumble or his legs began to ache. Not even when all logic ordered him back to the motel room. This big old rock held him firmly in place and this big old rock sat as out of place as he did.

Hell.

The last one felt like a memory but it wasn't a memory because he was there. The devil, the slashing, Michael and the burning cage. God, it was all just there. He feared to remember any of the agonizing details knocking at the inside of his head in case his thoughts alone shot him back to that excruciating dimension. Unfortunately though, as he knew all too well, he wasn't like Dean. He couldn't section bits off and archive them away. This would stay with him; suffocate him until he dealt with it. He just didn't know how to this time, nor did he trust himself to do it right if he thought he did.

What would keep him out?

What would keep him in?

Was there any answer or was it simply definite one time -even if it wasn't the next - would be a time holding no escape? Terror gripped at him. Eternity meant never-ending. Never-ending, and an eternity is what Lucifer hungered for him. Knowing what he knew now reaffirmed he never beat the devil. Not really. The devil beat him. In the end.

The call of his name woke him from his trance, startled him from his thoughts. Bobby. His faint voice laced with concern. Well, I'm not coming back. Sam thought. Not yet. He clamped down his hands on the cool stone and remained still under a light brighter than the full moon.

For over another hour.

Before his restlessness turned into fear, the sound he'd been waiting for prickled his ears and he stood. Anxiety twisted his chest tighter than he could wring a wet towel. His control was lost, his excuse feeble, his reason real. If only he could explain it all. Maybe that would make this plan seem reasonable. Bobby's calls grew more urgent. He blocked them out. He could do that now. And waited.

The brightest of the white light smacking his eyes made him squint. This was it. Whooshing towards him. There was no going back, but it felt right. It was what he had to do.

The blackness spun around him to his left. And halted suddenly. He remained standing although flinched a little. It was all so close now. The lights, the blackness, the sound. His mind swirled. It shouldn't be like this. But it was now. All the freaking time.

A familiar creak, then a slam.

This was for his brother, not him.

Not him.

'Sam.' Sam watched as the body created whizzing black shadows against the reception bricks as it passed by the headlights. 'What are you doing out here?'

Sam peeled his eyes from their dancing silhouettes now reflecting red under the "No Vacancy" sign above him.

Dean frowned, 'Sammy?'

Sam's eyes focused just as Dean clutched his arms.

'Waiting for you.'

(tbc...)

Another thank you to Emmau who gave me instructions on how to post this in spite of all these issues this site is having. For those who still need to know, once you get the Error message, go up to the url and replace the word 'property' with 'content' and it will allow you to update. :)