Author's Note: Thanks for all the kind words on the previous chapter. I'm glad you all enjoyed it. Tonight's prompt comes from Klutzygirl33 who requested, "During season five, after Dean drops the amulet in the trash, Sam is kidnapped and tortured by Lucifer in order to get him to say yes. When Dean finds him, he's badly injured and keeps mentioning something about how he won't hurt his brother, even though Dean hates him and doesn't love him anymore. A horrified Dean takes care of him." Thanks so much for this prompt! I had a blast writing it. Enjoy!

"Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret."

—Ambrose Bierce

In some dim part of his mind, Dean is still surprised.

Yeah, he and Sam had been having problems and yes, those problems had been worse ever since their horrible trip to Heaven, but deep down, the eldest Winchester just assumed that Sam would stick with him—if not out of some sense of love or loyalty, then guilt for inadvertently causing the apocalypse.

But apparently, he was wrong.

Sam was gone—his stuff too.

"Figures," He whispers as he closes the motel door behind him, trying not to feel that rush of grief that always seemed to flare up whenever Sam took off. He should've seen this coming, especially after he had thrown away the amulet. True, it was something he regretted now, but maybe this separation was for the best. Maybe they weren't stronger together; maybe he had been mistaken this whole time and Sam's heaven was just proof of that. "Guess I was wrong."

Even though his logical mind agreed with this and extolled the virtues of being able to go it alone, his heart ached. Betrayal or not, Sam was his brother and family didn't turn their back on each other. Family never let bridges be fully burned.

Family stuck together even in the middle of the damn end of the world.

Nodding to himself, he pulled out his cellphone and hit his speed dial #1 and waited. Sam's tired voice—when had he become that exhausted?—fills the line as he instructs the caller to leave a message.

"Sam," He softens his voice because despite all the crap that had been going on with them, he still has a soft spot for the kid. "I don't know where you are, but call me. Look . . . we can talk this out or whatever." Then, strongly, he adds, "I'm coming to find you."

Let the search begin.

No one in the town remembers seeing Sam leave.

In fact, no one seems to remember him at all.

"You had a brother come in with you?" The woman at the front desk of the restaurant questions, her eyes filling with confusion. "Really? I didn't notice." It's more than a bit disconcerting and frankly, it worries him. Perhaps Sam didn't take off on his own after all and if that were the case then the eldest Winchester feels more than a little bit foolish and just plain stupid. How easy was it for him to doubt his brother? How many priceless minutes had he wasted believing that his baby brother had just taken off and abandoned him?

What kind of fucked up big brother was he?

"Wait, the really tall guy?" A young, blonde waitress pipes up as she fills up a root beer. Dean nods his head eagerly and the young woman tilts her head to the side, closes her eyes and thinks for a few seconds. "I saw him. He was with some guy with scars on his face."

And all the blood in Dean's veins runs cold.

Lucifer had come to collect his vessel.

"What do you mean you can't find him?" Dean fumes as he adjusts his grip on the cellphone while speeding down the freeway, looking for some sign of demonic activity. Lucifer had his brother and was doing God knew what to him and the eldest Winchester was out of leads and ideas.

"I told you before," Castiel sighs. "I branded you and your brother to guard you against angels. I cannot find him nor should Lucifer have been able to—"

"Well, he did!" Dean growls. "Fuck, I knew I should've stayed—"

"I shall inform Bobby of this predicament. Perhaps he might be able to help." The angel's voice softens considerably. "If there is anything I can do, let me know. If Lucifer has harmed him—"

"Then I'll burn him in holy fire," Dean swears. "I'll keep you posted." Eyes scanning the road, he curses. This was like finding a needle in a haystack, practically impossible.

And then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches a flash of a faded blue sweatshirt and instantly, he knows.

Sam owned a faded blue Stanford sweatshirt—one that he only wore in times of extreme stress as it supposedly brought him some comfort. Throwing away the amulet—the proof of their bond, the gift Sam had given him the first Christmas he had found out—was stress enough and add that to the impending apocalypse, and it was no wonder his baby brother hadn't collapsed under it all. He hastily stops the car and screw anyone who would complain that it's in the middle of the road and then he's out and running to the field.

"Sam!"

The crumpled, bloodied, bruised body lying in the field twitches and with effort, Sam's eyes come to rest on his.

"D'n?" All the previous anger, all the hurt stemming from Sam's heaven just fades away and there's nothing more important than his baby brother and Lucifer better be prepared to suffer because once Sam is okay, once Dean takes care of him, he's coming for the devil next.

"Easy, easy," Dean soothes, trying to access the injuries but unable to get past the shock of seeing so much blood. Sam might need to go the hospital, but Dean couldn't find a wound causing the bleeding. Unless it was internal bleeding and then they had to go the hospital because he couldn't treat that. "Thought I told you not to talk to strangers, Sammy." He means it as a joke, but judging from the horrified look that passes on Sam's expression, it doesn't come across as one.

"M'sorry, D'n," Sam slurs, frantically trying to push himself up and away from his brother. Dean tightens his grip and tries to steady him.

"Don't move, okay? I need to see what happened—"

"Would never hurt you, D'n," Sam swears and Dean eyes him oddly. "Never!"

"I know that, Sam, but just stay still—" His baby brother doesn't seem to hear him and his gaze glazes over and as if he sees someone his older brother cannot, he continues on.

"D'n hates me, but I won't do it," For a second, the eldest Winchester freezes. Hate Sam? Who the hell told him that? Yeah, they had some problems but nothing under the sun could make Dean give up on his brother. "Love him. Won't do it. Can't make it. Protect D'n."

"You have protected me," Dean assures him, resting a palm on his shoulder and gently pushing him down. "Now, let me protect you."

"Don't hate me," Sam's practically crying now, tears rolling down his cheeks and it breaks Dean's heart to see him like this. He runs a hand through his baby brother's hair and lets his thumb stroke his forehead, trying to relax him. "Please D'n, don't hate me. M'sorry."

Deep down, he's horrified. How bad had things been that Lucifer had managed to convince Sam that his big brother no longer loved him? How much pain had Sam endured until he had broken and accepted that supposed "truth" that Dean couldn't stand him? Still, even under all that, his baby brother had refused to say yes, and for that, the eldest Winchester was truly proud.

Though as soon as Sam was better, they were having one hell of a talk.

"I know," He whispers as Sam's eyes begin to droop close. "I'm sorry too."

"Keep you safe." Sam mutters as he falls into unconsciousness.

"Don't worry," He tells his baby brother. "I've got you."

Big brother may have been on a brief vacation, but he was back in full force now and Lucifer better watch out.

Dean was coming for him.

"How is he?" Castiel speaks up from the doorway of the hospital room. Dean nearly jumps, but refrained from voicing his displeasure at the angel's sudden appearance and simply kept his eyes locked on Sam's sleeping frame.

"They gave him two blood transfusions," Dean reported. "He has a concussion, two broken ribs, one fractured wrist and multiple minor burns all over his body." Castiel's visage darkens.

"Lucifer tortured him." He concludes and Dean nods.

"Nearly killed him." His voice almost breaks because this was too damn close for comfort. Sam was supposed to be okay—he wasn't supposed to be kidnapped by Lucifer and almost killed by the angel that promised to bring him back if he ever died himself. They were supposed to beat this thing together, not be fighting over whether Heaven was real or not. They were supposed to be brothers and have each other's back and somewhere after Heaven, Dean had lost sight of that. He had lost the amulet too and now, he had almost lost Sam.

He couldn't afford any more near misses.

He had to keep his brother safe.

He had to trust his brother.

"But, you found him." Castiel points out.

"It was too close—"

"Better close than too late," He replies logically and Dean shakes his head. The former messenger of Heaven steps closer to Sam's bedside and smiles down at his sleeping friend. "Sam is strong. He is a fighter and he survived. I have no doubt he will recover from this."

"Cas—"

"People make mistakes," Castiel recites dutifully. "Is that not something you and Sam have taught me? As such, people are fortunate enough to learn from them." Cerulean eyes locked onto his. "Have you learned from your mistakes?"

"Of course—" Castiel grins and then pulls something out of his trench coat. Gently, he places it on the table next to Sam. Dean nearly gasps as the amulet stares at him and he grins. "Where did you—?"

"The time for amends is now, Dean." He replies cryptically before vanishing in a flutter of wings.

"What the hell, Cas?" He mumbles, confused. Then, he glances down and saw pair of confused hazel eyes looking back at him. "Sammy?"

"Y'kay?" Sam slurs heavily, exhaustion clearly winning this battle.

"Fine."

"D'n, m'sorry—" He holds his hand up and waits for silence.

"No, Sam, I am." Sam's face alights with confusion. "Look, I screwed up, okay? I never should've believed that was your Heaven and even if it was, I never should've acted like I did." He beams at his baby brother. "Just . . . I've made mistakes and I'm sure I'll make more, but Sam, I will never ever turn my back on you, no matter what decisions you make. You're my brother and I would die for you in a second, understand?" It's the cheesiest thing he's ever said to his brother, but the words needed to be said. Sam had to know that he was loved and nothing Lucifer had said was true.

"Me too." Sam whispers, eyes sliding shut.

"Night, Sammy."

As his brother sleeps, Dean pockets the amulet and knows that there will be a time and a place for it. For now though, he'll just focus on getting his brother back to full health and then surviving the apocalypse.

Because he had no doubts now—as long as he had Sam, Dean knew they could survive anything.

And when the ground had closed up months later in Stull Cemetery, when he was left with nothing but a pile of dirt, a duffel bag full of old clothes and a few faded pictures of his brother, Dean pulled out that amulet. No one would know of Sam's sacrifice, but an old drunk, an angel and a high school dropout. So, he buried that amulet there, in the exact spot where his brother fell. It was fitting, Dean figured, considering Sam had been his heart and soul anyways.

"Sammy."

And Dean Winchester cried because while they had survived the apocalypse, the price had been too high.

The price was always too high for people like them.

Author's Note: I promise the next few chapters will have a happier ending, but I couldn't get the image of Dean at Stull Cemetery out of my mind. Anyways, please review if you have a second. I hope you enjoyed! See you again tomorrow!