Dean nearly let the knife drop from his hands. How could he have forgotten what would happen if he tried to kill Lucifer…? He'd be killing his own brother… if his brother was even in there anymore.

Lucifer had probably already done something that had gotten Sam killed. Sam would be in heaven, wouldn't he?

Lucifer smiled.

Dean gripped the knife, and his stomach rumbled. He was so hungry… and still, he felt that constant pressure on his heart… but as he grew more anxious, his heart beat faster, and the pain just got worse, making him want to scream.

"What are you waiting for? Oh, oh you probably want to say goodbye to Sammy, right? Here, how about I let him talk while you kill him, sound fun?" Lucifer closed his eyes, and when he opened them, his expression changed.

"D-Dean?"

His brother was in front of him. It wasn't Lucifer anymore. Dean refused to get his hopes up, but still, he asked, "Can you move?"

Sam replied, "No. He's controlling my body. Listen Dean, just- just kill me. I don't care. Please, it's the only way out of this, I don't want to be here anymore. Lucifer he's… you've got to stop him! Whatever it takes."

"I'm not killing you, Sammy!"

"Do it! Please," Sam said desperately.

Dean began to walk past Sam, in hopes of maybe finding an exit- but Lucifer grabbed his arm.

"I- I'm sorry Dean, I can't control my body. Please, just kill me.'

Dean shook his head, pulling his arm away, "How many times have we been over this? I'm not going to kill you!"

"Dean, who knows what he's doing? I'd rather be dead than have to be this anymore."

"It's not happening!"

Lucifer's voice then came out of his mouth, "But what if you don't have a choice, Dean? Ha, what if I make a demon possess you?"

"That's impossible."

"Why, because of your anti-possession tattoo? I burned that off ages ago."

Dean's face paled. Had… had he really…

"And how suiting it would be, to have your half-brother be the demon who possesses you?"

At that, he was confused, "Who are you talking about?"

"Did you really forget that easily? Wow. Poor kid, no wonder he wants revenge." As he said that, a black smoke entered the room through the door at the top of the stairs, and moved towards Dean.

Then it entered him. He could still see everything, but he wasn't himself anymore.

He felt himself grin, "Now where were we? Oh, right. Could you make Sam talk again?"

"Gladly." Lucifer said, and then Sam became conscious once more, "What's going on?"

"Mm, nothing, Sammy. It's just Dean. Here to kill you."

"…Dean?"

Dean felt himself nod, and he moved towards his brother, holding the knife in his hands. He smiled, and then put the blade of the knife beneath Sam's chin, lifting his head up slightly.

"Sammy, little Sammy, you've always been such a bother." Dean said, "You want me to kill you, right? I'll gladly do it."

"What's gotten into you!?"

"Nothing. What's gotten into you? Other than the devil himself. Honestly, I thought you were better than this. You're weak. You've always been weak." Dean tried everything to stop himself from talking, "Finally I'll be rid of you."

Sam said softly, "I'm sorry, Dean."

"Of course you're sorry. You're nothing! You've never done anything right. You sicken me, Sam."

"Dean, what's going on?"

"It's just… I've finally got the choice. Whether you live or die. And this time, unlike all the other times, I'm going to pick the right one. You're going to die today, Sammy!" Dean laughed.

Sam stared at him, with soulful, worried eyes, "…I—I trust you Dean."

"You shouldn't. But, it really is me, don't worry. It's your brother. Well, I haven't regarded you as a brother for the longest time. We're not brothers, Sam. I don't love you."

Dean tried everything he could to stop talking, to just tell Sam he didn't mean any of the words coming out of his mouth. He looked at Sam, saw how hurt his brother was. He looked so defenceless… he had to protect him, he had to stop this!

"You don't mean that."

No, he didn't! Dean wanted to scream, but instead what came out was, "I do, Sammy. I'll be glad to be rid of you."

He smiled at his younger brother, and then finally said, "Oh alright, you got me. I'm just joking around. Come here."

He stepped towards his brother, arms open, and then he hugged him, despite Sam not being able to hug back. But as he held him, Dean could feel the malicious intent from the demon possessing him, and he tried all he could to move his body, to just get away from Sam…!

"We'll get out of this, Sammy! Your big brother would never hurt you. We'll save the world for the umpteenth time, and everything will be sunshine and rainbows and unicorns!"

"Dean," Sam began worriedly, "Please, what's happening?"

Dean traced the knife up Sam's back, and began to cut into him, "You feel that Sammy? That's going to cut into your heart, and we'll save the world. You're the problem, Sam. It's always been you."

"Dean!" Sam gasped, as the knife went deeper into his back, and his breathing became more laboured.

Dean smiled and forced the knife to the hilt in his brother's back. No! Dean tried to shout, but instead he laughed.

"Bye, Sammy! Have a nice time in Hell! Too bad Lucifer won't be joining you this time. Still, it's your fault he's here. It's always your fault."

"Dean… I'm…" Sam began, but wasn't able to finish his sentence.

Dean stepped back, and watched as the light faded from his baby brother's eyes. They turned cold, and Lucifer smiled.

"Well done, Dean!" Lucifer clapped his hands together, "Sammy's gone now."

The demon left him then, and Dean crumpled to his knees. His baby brother was dead. He'd killed him. He'd killed Sam. He killed Sam. He felt tears well up in his eyes. What had he done!? He didn't deserve to be living. He'd killed his baby brother.

He could hardly think. Lucifer put a hand on his shoulder, grinning widely. Sam was gone. There was no way- he'd killed him. He'd killed Sammy. Dean had killed his brother. The one thing he had spent his life trying not to do. He was supposed to protect him!

He was supposed to keep him safe from harm. To comfort him when times got bad. To always be there for him. He was his big brother! He was supposed to protect him! Instead, he'd just killed him. Dean stared at the ground, then at the knife in his hands. His brother's blood was on it. Dean threw it aside with a sharp breath.

It can't have happened. This was a dream. He never would've killed Sam. He never would've killed his Sammy. He was dreaming. He'd wake up, and Sam would be asleep in his own bed, back in the motel. Maybe he'd wake up, ask Dean what was wrong.

Dean would reply everything was fine. He'd never want to worry his brother. Sam would turn around and go back to sleep. And Dean would know he'd dreamt it all.

Why wasn't he waking up!?

Dean took a shuddering breath, still staring at the ground. There were drops of blood on it. Drops of his brother's blood. His brother was dead. He'd killed his brother. Still, it was just a nightmare of course, of course it was, what else could it be? There was no other explanation!

He would never have killed his brother. He didn't. He hadn't. Sammy was alive. His precious baby brother was alive. Yet… why was he awake? Why was he awake and Sam was dead? This wasn't supposed to happen. He was supposed to keep him safe. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

He killed him. He killed his little brother.

Lucifer stepped back from Dean, "Didn't you want to leave now?"

Dean said nothing as his brother's voice grated against his ears.

"No? If you don't say anything, I can't let you go, Dean."

Still, Dean stared at the ground in shock, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Geez, fine. Be that way. I'll see you later, Dean-o."

At that, Lucifer left, leaving Dean alone, unchained. He could escape but… what was the point? Sammy was gone. He couldn't save him. He killed him. His brother was dead and it was all his fault.

Why was this happening? What had he ever done to deserve this?

"Damn it!" Dean yelled and pounded his fist into the ground. Blood darted from the immediate wounds on his knuckles, and he ignored it. He couldn't even see the ground anymore, tears formed so quickly in his eyes.

He'd killed his baby brother.

Dean lay down on the cold, stone floor, the hunger in his stomach only growing, the pain on his heart now divided literally and figuratively… it all made him feel as though he should simply die.

That would solve everything, wouldn't it?

He should just die.

The knife was right there.

A/N you guys are going to hate me (if you don't already) but this is the last chapter i'll be posting for a while... ill update in about a month though. Nanowrimo's finally over and i really really just need a break from writing for some time (I wrote 65,783 words in november for my own novel!)

So, expect an update in around a month or so.

And leave a review! I absolutely love reading them... Even if you're just yelling at me because i just killed Sammy.(BTW DON'T BE TOO WORRIED, OKAY? I HAVE A PLAN!)