Disclaimer: I don't own the Winchester boys nor Bobby.

Notes: I actually came up with the beginning and the idea for the ending and the rest wrote itself. I have all of the chapters written out, but I don't know if they'll get uploaded at one time though

Setting: Set after Season 2, 'Born under a bad sign'. But take an AU approach. Major AngstSam and GuiltyProtectiveDean

Warning: Deals with self harm, and thoughts of suicide. However if you are like me, you might be happy to know, this has a happy ending. No tragic ending here. I don't do tragic ending anyway.

Summary: Five times. Five times he has thought about it before he acted. The sixth time he couldn't stand it. Silence followed. Maybe various letters would save him....before the silence wrapped him up forever...


Chapter 12: The Return Letter

Bobby watched as Dean typed away furiously at the computer. He'd never seen such dedication when it came to electronics as Dean was at that moment. He vaguely wondered what the letter was about. When Dean came down, he looked at Sam who didn't look at him, instead picking at his food. Bobby noticed Dean held the envelope and the letter that appeared to have been inside. Bobby watched the stare down Dean gave Sam and the avoidance Sam gave Dean. He kept quiet but expected one to say something after a bit. Instead Dean picked up his plate, patted Sam on the shoulder, which eased a bit of tension out Sam, before going into the living room. Where he promptly loaded the computer, took a bite of his food and had been typing ever since. Bobby had noticed at all the while Dean looked rather somber.

A little too somber.

Just like Sam was looking right now. Sam was still sitting at the kitchen table trying to read a random book that had been lying out but Bobby observed that he mostly tried to discreetly watch Dean. He looked nervous. Finally he couldn't stand it and trekked upstairs. Bobby was surprise when Dean didn't cease in his typing nor moved from his seat.

Instead said young male said, "Hey, Bobby, do me a favor and keep Sam company. I'm almost done here."

"Yeah, sure", Bobby said rather gruffly as he stood and went after Sam. He had to admit curiosity was killing the cat here.

That cat was him.

Again, he knew the Winchesters would be the death of him.

Bobby found Sam sitting on his bed furthest from the door staring out at the junkyard.

"Hey Sam, you okay?" Bobby asked. Sam moved his head but it wasn't an answer in either direction. He just hunched over and stared at the floor.

"Your idjit brother is on the computer doing something. He said he'd be done in a few. Asked that I keep you company", Bobby explained as he sat down on the other bed. Sam didn't say anything or move.

So they just sat in silence. It was about another hour before Bobby heard his printer whirl and another few moments before a set of footsteps resounding up the stairs. And a second, before he saw Dean step into the doorway. Bobby stood and without word disappeared down stairs.

Dean smiled grateful at Bobby before walking to Sam's bed and sitting down next to him. He toyed with the object in his hand. "I, uh", he cleared his throat, "didn't put this in an envelope. I probably would mess that up. Not that stickler you know." He looked at his brother trying to get a read on him.

"Here", he handed Sam the letter, putting it on his lap. Sam stared down at the letter. "Read it for me, okay. And then get back to me, maybe?" The last line was said with trepidation.

Dean didn't wait for a confirmation; instead he stood up, carded his fingers through Sam's hair once, like he did when they were younger and walked out. Sam heard his footsteps briefly until they stop prematurely. The man didn't go any further than halfway up or down the stairs.

Sam looked at the letter, fearing to read it. Fearing what it would say; how it would say. He took a breath. He needed to know. And that need overpowered anything else. So he forced himself to pick up the letter and open it:

Sam,

There are so many things I need to know. So many questions I have and you know I'm no good at talking. And definitely no good at writing this kind of stuff.

I need to know what sparked this. I have never known you to cut; to even think about it. When did it start? Why did it start? I never thought you to be suicidal, but this scared me Sammy.

And not talking is scaring me more than your talking ever would. If you needed relief you should have talked to me and we would have figured it out. A vacation maybe, trip to the Grand Canyon, go to Hollywood, try to find Lindsay Lohan, try to get you laid, anything….

Speaking of which, you cannot end a letter with just anyway. Isn't there some college rule against that?

Sammy, you know you can rehash any subject you need with me, if you that is what you need. I know you gotta rehash and refresh yourself and if that is what you gotta do, I don't care. It doesn't matter, I will repeat as much as I have to. Maybe we both have to accept and live with things but that doesn't mean that we just wait and let it consume us. I know its kinda pot calling the kettle black. But you have always been the sensitive one of the family and that's okay. If you have another method different from what me or dad do, then it's fine. You know I won't condemn you for that. I just want to help, Sam. Let me help. Whatever you need…

And speaking of repeating, you are not and never will be a burden to this family, to me. I said it a thousand times and if it takes another thousand then so be it. I just….want you to be okay, Sam. If I have to be a broken record at times, I'm okay with that. I'm sorry for what I said that day, about these being your issues and not to be dumping them on me. I didn't mean it like that. I never meant it. I was angry and hurt and I just snapped and I shouldn't have.

None of what happened in this family is your fault. I don't care if you start with our mother and work yourself down the line. It never will be your fault. Never have and never will. The demon needs to be held responsible for this. You are a victim not the perpetrator. Whoo, bet you didn't think I knew such a word, eh Sammy? My GED is good for something.

As for what our father said, the man was an idiot. You don't tell your son to kill his sibling I don't care what. We will figure this out Sam. I won't let even dad tear us apart like this. He didn't know you as well I do, and frankly as per his instructions, it wasn't his job to. And I accept that. I'm okay with that.

I won't let you go, kid. Not now and not ever. I should beat you up for even suggesting it….again. But it doesn't matter, cause I'll repeat myself. I won't let you go, not now or ever.

But seriously, Sam we need to talk. Letters are great and all if that is what you need, but still we need to talk. Talking is better not to mention easier. And we need to discuss those drawings you did. Heavy stuff man, even I see that.

So please, for all that is right, please talk to me. I just want us to be brothers again. I want to talk, seriously. I know I say no chick-flick moments, but this issue is past the point of it being considered chick-flick. This is serious and we need to tackle this head on if that we are going to beat this.

And before you start thinking about it, we are going to beat this. Because that is what family does, stick together and beat the things that need beating. God, I'm starting to sound like some talk show host or something.

But seriously, we are all that we have left. Don't let the demon or anything else win and tear us apart.

If they do that will have won already.

So if you could follow this disorientated letter, congrats. So, I'm going to give a real closing.

Just talk to me, please. Let's be brothers again.

TBC….