So, my darling readers, prepare yourself for a giant angst fest this chapter and even bigger helping of hurt Sam *wink*. And you are going to hate me…just a pre-warning. *evil grin*. Thank you all reviewers! You know I love you lol and you are the reason I'm compelled to keep the updates coming. And thank you if you added this to alert or as a favorite story! Here's chapter ten, happy reading!

-Punkin

Dean slammed to his knees beside his fallen brother, heart frozen in sheer terror. "No no no no no no…" repeated in a desperate mantra.

His shaking, calloused hands sought for a pulse, tenderly turning his brother until he lay on his back. Holding his breath…Dean waited, please please please…

And there it was…the familiar thrum beneath his fingertips, however weak and unsteady. Dean let out a short laugh of relief, fingers brushing at much too long chocolate locks, "That's my boy, Sammy."

But relief soon sucked itself deep down into a dark void, air pausing in his chest because holy shit…that's a lot of blood! And even though his fingers were already clumsily pulling at his shirt, Dean couldn't move fast enough. Should have gotten here sooner…this shouldn't have happened at all! All my damn fault…

Hesitating with the clothing bunched tightly in his grip, Dean allowed a quick evaluation. He swallowed…eye lids fluttering close, Jesus that's deep. But he shook his head because he didn't have time for this…Sam needed help…like NOW. Whispering a quick apology to his unconscious sibling, he pressed down, because if the sickly shade to Sam's skin and his soaked jeans told Dean anything, it was that his little brother couldn't afford to lose one more drop.

The pressure on his abdomen must have been enough to arouse Sam, because curled fingers twitched and blue tinged eye lids moved to reveal slits of swirling, vibrant hazel. "Sam? Sammy? Hey, talk to me, man."

Eye brows furrowed, confused frightened eyes flickering across Dean's eager, desperate face. Dean could feel warmth at the tips of his fingers and he abruptly increased the pressure he was exerting against Sam's middle, the ring on his right hand sliding on now slick skin, his stomach rebelling at the heavy taste of blood in the air. And all he could think was that they'd already run out of time they didn't have.

Sam made a keening noise in the back of his throat following Dean's movement, choking on the same air his lungs greedily pulled in. "Dea-?"

But Dean couldn't do this. Couldn't handle this. Couldn't…just couldn't. And he was lucky he stopped the sob at all. "Yeah, Sammy, it's me…just take it easy."

Hazel orbs brimming with pain cleared a little at the sound of his voice, dirt covered fingers brushing against the leg of his jeans, as if searching for something to hold on to. And if his own hands hadn't been too busy trying to literally hold his little brother together, than he would have gladly provided the comfort.

His eyes sought over the rest of Sam's body, searching for more injury, discovering wrists shredded and raw. Though only superficial wounds, Dean's heart skipped a beat, picturing Sam hanging from the ceiling, struggling to free himself, alone, cold and bleeding while waiting for an older brother he wasn't sure would be able to get there in time. "Knew…you'd come." It was so quiet, Dean almost didn't hear him.

But when he glanced up to find a still relatively aware gaze, a deep sadness gripped his heart, icy tendrils creeping through his veins and encompassing him. Even after the way Dean had been treating him of late, after all the crap he'd put up with, Sam had still trusted Dean to save him, to be there when he was needed.

"Shoulder…" Sam continued, dark eye lashes flickering and brushing away tears he couldn't hide from his older brother.

And when Dean finally remembered how to respond, he realized there was a dark trickle in the dirt beneath his younger sibling. As carefully as he could, he tilted him up, the dim lighting of the cavern making it difficult to see…but it was enough. "Damn it, Sam."

The scratches were not nearly as deep as the others…but they'd bled a lot already and would most certainly need stitches. "S-sorry." Another hoarse whisper and Dean began to wonder how his little brother was managing to speak at all.

This thought had him in another bout of panic. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere, his cell phone didn't work, and the only person who did know where they were had been told to 'leave them the hell alone' even though he'd been right all along. He grasped the side of Sam's face, tilting his head when it lolled slightly, "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sammy, ok? You're going to be fine…you're going to be fine."

And when his own voice rang back in his ears, he could've sworn that he used to be a far better liar. Because Sam was bleeding out…and there was nothing more that Dean could do. The Impala was miles away…a hospital even farther…and Sam just didn't have that kind of time.

Suddenly, a feather light touch brushed his arm, a sad, resigned face hidden beneath dark bangs staring up at him. Why's my face wet?

Oops…

And here Dean had been thinking he'd been keeping the tears under control. But he just didn't care anymore. "May 17th, 2000."

Dean blinked, the warmth still sliding over his fingers, the hollow 'splat' of salt water falling against old leather. "What?"

Sam continued to stare up at Dean, his hand sliding to rest back against the ground again as if he didn't have the strength to lift it for a second time. A small smile tugged at the edge of Sam's lips, and all Dean really wanted to do was scream…scream because this was so unfair. "Remember?" His little brother persisted, "You let me borrow the car to go on that stupid date," A small gasp, soft coughing…Dean still helpless, "But-but then you…called, completely wasted, and asked if I could pick you up at some random chick's house." Sam smiled again, "And then…whe-when I pulled up, that-that giant dog ran out in front of me…and I-I swerved and hit the mailbox."

Dean's left hand hovered desperately over Sam, at a total loss, Sam, god damn, stop talking. You're fucking DYING. But his little brother needed this…and he was going to give it to him.

"And remember what you said, Dean?" Those giant eyes again…that look that had made Dean melt and bend like rubber their entire lives.

Something trickled off the tip of his nose, teeth clenching and throat tightening. His brushed again at Sam's face, pushing at hair that refused to cooperate. "Yeah, Sammy…I-I told you that I'd always trust you…no matter what." Something else deep within him broke then, cracking and dying because this was all so wrong. No no no no no no no… "God, Sammy…I'm so sorry…"

"I just wanted to say that I'm…I'm sorry that that cha-changed…that I made you-you thin-think that I wou-wouldn't have you're back."

But Dean was shaking his head, lip trembling as Sam struggled for a proper breath, eye lids half closed even as Dean pushed even harder against his wound. "It didn't change, Sammy."

And there was the conviction he'd been lacking for so long now.

Arms shaking, eyes wet, "I trust you, you-you were right about everything man. I-I should've listened, but I…" His vision blurred, "Why'd you do it, Sam? Why'd you push me out of the way? Why did you-" But Dean had to stop because the words caught in his throat, coming out as a garbled, distorted sob.

And there was that half smile again…even as his little brother couldn't even pull in air anymore…even as the heartbeat beneath Dean's finger tips seemed to fade altogether. "Cause', Dean."

Then vibrant, hazel slits slowly disappeared…

Yes, yes, I know…I'm just so evil…but I can live with that. hehe