Prompt: Would you maybe think about tackling "The Voicemail" at some point? I think that in your 'verse they might actually finally get around to addressing all of their old hurts and this is a big one in my opinion. This request made my heart soar because I've been wanting to have the boys talk about this since it happened. Thank you for the request!

I wanted to say, that without you wonderful people, I would never have gotten this far. When I posted the first chapter, I wasn't planning one writing anymore. Honestly, your encouraging words and kind reviews will forever make me smile and have helped me become a better writer. You are all SO sweet, I would never have gotten to chapter 25 without all you lovely people, thank you SO much! I love you!

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-I cannot lose you. Because if I ever did, I would have lost my best friend, my soul mate, my smile, my laugh, my everything-

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Sammy was drunk.

Like, really drunk.

Like, when-did-you-even-have-time-to-get-this-drunk drunk.

Dean had discovered a hiccupping Sam in their library, fiddling with a scotch bottle and seemingly not noticing his big brother trying to hide his amusement. "Bad day or did you find old scotch?" Dean questioned playfully, ruffling Sam's brown locks affectionately and grabbing the near empty bottle of Scotch that Sammy had apparently found and settling it in the cupboard.

"Well I lost my book, so I count that as a bad day." Sam slurred matter-of-factly, like drinking God only knows how old scotch was the obvious response for losing a book. For tall dorky nerds like Sam, maybe.

Dean figured that Sam needed a distraction from all that had happened to them both in the last few months. Hunts have been getting more gruesome, they lost good friends…And the whole "Darkness" situation that had come to happen after Death was killed, had left both brothers with no idea on how to stop it. If Sam needed a distraction, even if it's just for a few hours, Dean wasn't going to judge.

"So you're just I-found-scotch-drunk drunk then?" Dean smiled amusedly, kindly planting a kiss on his Sammy's hair before he wrapped his hands underneath Sam's biceps, pulling up from the table.

"Yessss." Sam slurred, nodding thoughtfully as he immediately started leaning towards his brother's warmth and swung an arm around Dean's back as his brother supported him towards their room. Drunk Sam was always amusing, however, Drunk Sam usually meant that by morning, Drunk Sam would turn into this-hangover-is-going-to-be-the-end-of-me Sam.

So the first thing on Dean's mind was to get his little brother to bed and as comfortable as possible before he started feeling ill.

"If you puke on me, I'm gonna have to kill ya." Dean joked, carefully maneuvering his brother out of the way of the walls.

"Like a dad said, dad you were gonna have to kill me…" Sam slurred almost incoherently, thankfully for him, Dean was fluent in drunk talk. Sam's neck was left unable to hold his own weight, leaving his head bobbing up and down. "And you said that he was right" Sam continued. "…I guess you're gonna have to kill me now, like you said you would before…"

Dean stopped walking at the quiet confession, his grip never faltering on his brother. Did Sam really just say that? When did Dean ever say that he would do that? Sam is his brother, how could he ever think that? "Sam, what are you talking about?" Dean's expression held enough shock for sober Sam to see he really had no idea what Sam was talking about.

Drunk Sam however…

"The voice message…" Sam said in a quiet tone, like the thought brought him pain." "The one you sent me the night I killed Lilith."

Dean stopped walking then. Voice message? The only one he sent to Sam that…night…was when he told Sam that they were brothers no matter what. And Sam still didn't come back. The thought still made his heart crack. He knew that no matter what, they would always love each other, and that neither could imagine their life without the other...so if whatever this message was, it had hurt Sam so deep that he hadn't told Dean about it, especially since they had started acting like soulmates, it must have hurt Sam pretty bad.

Clearing his throat, Dean stumbled for a reply. "What did I say in the message?" Dean questioned, his voice seemingly calm as he continued his walking to get them both to their room.

When they finally made in into their room, Dean's first instinct was to sit Sam down and beg him to know that whatever the hell Sam thought he had sent him in the message, that the real message was the exact opposite of that. But he doubted Sam would or even could remember anything they would talk about when he was this plastered. Gently settling Sam on the bed, lying Sam on his side, Dean sat behind his brother, rubbing his back in soothing circles and waiting for him to continue.

"Called me a bloodsucking freak…that's was true…gonna kill me and said you were done trying to save me…No going back to save me." Sam whispered the last words, still clinging to his brother's arm like the confession would have Dean let him fall and leave him alone.

"God, Sammy, I never said that." Dean insisted, horror twisting his insides at the thought of Sam believing that to be true. "I never said that, it wasn't me Sammy, I swear."

Sam said nothing, his eyelids winning the game of strength and he started snoring softly, Dean's words gone unnoticed by him.

"Sam?" Dean smoothed Sam's rebellious hair out from his sweaty forehead, seeing that Sam was sound asleep. His heart was feeling like a hand was wrapped around it, trying to squeeze his core until it burst. How could this have happened? How did his message get twisted and mangled to the point that-

Dean felt he was just punched in the gut.

The angels or Ruby…one or maybe even both must have changed the voice message. Pushed Sam to the brink which lead him to killing Lilith.

With one hand still rubbing Sam's spine, Dean's other hand started clasping his amulet, the metal figure offering comfort as he was lost in thought over this new information that Sam had been burdened with for years.

With Sam still sleeping off the alcohol induced slumber, Dean toed off his shoes and settled himself directly behind his snoring brother, wrapping his arms around Sam's torso and pulling him close. Hooking his chin over Sam's shoulder, Dean rested his head against his brother's, knowing that he wasn't going to get a wink of sleep tonight.

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"Ugghhhh, I'm. Never. Drinking. Again."

"Pretty sure you say that every time you drink." Dean said, rubbing Sam's back in gently circles as he supported Sam back from their bathroom and on to their bed.

"Well this time I mean it." Sam muttered softly as he sat on the edge of the bed, Dean following his lead. He didn't get sick, thank God, but his stomach's aches sure had him fooled.

"And you say that every time you get sober." Dean's smile was forced, not wanting to talk about what happened last night until Sam was ready.

However, having a brother who was as in-tuned with him as he was with his brother, lead to them both being able to tell when the other is upset.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked worriedly.

After a few moments of silence, Dean couldn't keep quiet. "Do you remember what you talked about last night?" Dean asked softly, waiting until Sam had scooted his back against the headboard of the bed before continuing. "About…" Here Dean cut himself off, all his planning, all his thoughts on what to say to his baby brother forgotten and it takes all he can do not to tear up then and there.

Sam notices this and is immediately on alert, ready to do anything to help his brother. "Dean, what's wrong?"

"Do you remember talking about the voicemail?"

Sam didn't even need to ask what message they were talking about.

He knew.

Sam turned his head away, swallowing his bile at the thought of the message again. He memorized it by heart even though the message was destroyed when he broke his phone weeks later. It was the message that made him understand just how badly, how painfully, he had broken his brother. Sam had trusted a demon skank over his own flesh and blood. How could Dean ever forgive himself for that? The knowledge that he had brought along the apocalypse was an afterthought, all he could think of was what he had done to Dean and how he had broke Dean, had broken his trust.

"I never said that to you." Dean declares, moving closer to Sam while they sat side by side on the bed. Sam still can't bring himself to look at his brother, instead keeps his sight on his knee, playing with a hole that had devolved over the years. "I promise you, I never said that, please believe me. You're not a freak, you're my brother, my family."

"I know…" Sam said in a whisper. "I always thought that it didn't sound like you, that it didn't feel like you, but...after what I did…After all I did to hurt our bond…I thought-I was afraid-that even for a moment…I had lost you." Sam stopped there, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to keep it from trembling. "It made sense why you would say that…I never asked you about it because-I was terrified of your answer would be…"

"Sam," Dean said in a soft voice, hoping Sam didn't notice the crack in his voice. His hands still holding to his emotionally exhausted brother. "I-I never said that." Dean wrapped his fingers around the nape of Sam neck, turning Sam's head tenderly so he could see he was telling the truth. Tightening his hold on his brother's face, his eyes pierced into Sam's pained gaze.

"I would never, ever, say that to you. That is never something I would do or say. I love you. I always have and I always will." Dean's words are spoken with such love, such truth, he has no doubt in his mind that his brother is being honest to him. "Whoever sent that message-Ruby, Zach, or any other winged dicks-" Sam give a watery laugh at that (only Dean would make him smile when he wants nothing more than to lay down and sob for a week). "I would bring them back to life just so I could stab them in the face again. You are my brother, and no matter what you did or do, I will always be there for you. I will always love you."

The fear and dread bled away from Sam at his brother's promise, of his vow that he had kept ever since he was born. Trails of tears fell from Sam's eyelashes. "Dean…" came out, choked full of emotion.

Dean reaches his hands over to place them on either side of Sam's face as he leans in, resting his forehead against Sam's. Sam's fingers reach up and grip the nape of his brother's neck, tucking his head against Dean's chest as he allowed his tears to fall freely, noticing that he also felt wetness on the top of his head, from Dean's tears.

The truth was finally out. There was no uncertainty of if Dean was lying. Sam knew with all his heart that his brother, his soulmate, was telling him the reality. With an exhale Sam didn't even know he was holding, he and Dean stayed in their position for a long time, at peace, and holding the one person in the world that they needed.

I'm really hoping you liked this! Thank you again for the prompt, I love getting them.

The next prompt I got was a fic with a teenaged Sam getting hurt for the first time on a hunt.

Have a beautiful day! *hug!*