DEAN'S POV

Sam was shattered and I had no idea how to help him. He hadn't come out of his room in three days. Not to bathe or eat. The only time he came out was to use the bathroom. I had tried several times, without success, to get him to eat something. He always left the plate of food on the floor outside his door, untouched. It was like he had stopped trying and was just waiting for death to take him. After all we've been through and the sacrifices made for him, I wasn't going to let him piss that all away!

On the morning of the third day, I was sitting in the kitchen with Bobby. Both of us sat staring at the uneaten food on our plates. I could tell that Bobby was just as worried about Sam as I was, but he didn't know how to broach the subject. He looked up at me and then looked back down at his plate. I could see that he was arguing with himself about whether to say something to me or not.

"Dean..."

"I know, Bobby!", I cut in. "I know." Bobby heaved a sigh and stood up from the table, taking his plate with him. He emptied the plate into the trash and dropped it in the sink before leaving the room. I sat there for a long moment with my hands over my eyes. I had no idea what I was gonna do or say to Sam to fix this! But there was one thing I did know. He wasn't going to keep me locked out another minute. I slid my chair out and stood up, emptied my plate in the can, and dropped it in the sink as I walked out of the room. I stalked up the stairs of Bobby's old house and down the hall, stopping in front of Sam's door. I turned the knob and found that, like every other time I tried to get in, it was locked.

"Sam!", I yelled, banging on the door. There was no answer and I banged harder. "SAMMY! OPEN THE DOOR!" I was starting to get worried.

"Go away, Dean", Sam grumbled from the other side of the door. I cursed under my breath.

"SAM, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR OR I'LL KICK IT IN!", I snarled. He was really starting to piss me off! I wasn't going to let him kill himself! I heard the springs in the mattress creak and soft foot steps approach the door. When the door swung open and Sam looked up at me, the look on my face must have been one of horror, because he quickly looked away. He was pale and his face was scruffy. His eyes were blood shot and he had purplish bags under his them. His greasy hair stuck up in all directions and he smelled horrible from not having bathed in 3 days.

"What do you want, Dean?", Sam whispered still staring down at the floor. For a moment, I forgot why I was there. His appearance had shocked me into silence and I had to clear my throat before I could speak.

"Wha...what the Hell, Sammy?", I croaked. Sam's jaw muscle clenched as he continued to look at his feet. "Are you seriously trying to kill yourself?" His face scrunched up and he looked like he was in pain.

"Just let it go, Dean", Sam slurred. He refused to look at me and he was shaking. I could tell he was trying to hold himself back. He wobbled slightly and his eyes seemed to not be focused on anything. I was close enough to smell the odor of alcohol coming off of him and looked past him to see several empty bottles of booze on the floor near the bed and on the night stand.

"Sammy, what are you doing to yourself, huh?", I whined. "Ya gotta stop this! Now!" I slapped the palm's of my hands against the door frame and leaned in close to his ear. "Are you really going to shit all over the sacrifice that Violet made for you, Sam?" He looked up at me with a look of seething rage.

"FUCK OFF, DEAN!", Sam snarled. He slammed the door in my face and I heard the lock on the door click. His footsteps receded back into the room somewhere. I leaned my head against the door for a moment. I let my anger get the best of me and said something I shouldn't have.

"Sam! I'm sorry for what I said!", I yelled. "Please open the door!" I heard the springs in the mattress creak again and then nothing. "SAM!"

"GO FUCK YOURSELF, DEAN!", Sam spat. I stepped back and slammed the sole of my heavy boot against the door, just under the knob. The door swung open with a bang and I stomped into the room. Sam lay sprawled out on the bed with his face in the crook of his arm and a half empty bottle of Jack in his other hand. He sat up and brought the bottle to his face, but I slapped it out of his hand before he could get it to his lips.

"DAMMIT, DEAN!", Sam snarled, jumping to his feet. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" He shoved me backwards toward the door, but I held my ground. He punched me hard in the jaw and I went flying sideways onto the floor. I looked up and Sam was standing over me with his hands balled into fists and breathing hard through his nose. "I won't say it again, Dean. Get out!" He was growling the words at me like a wild animal. I flew at him, grabbing him around the waist, and tackling him to the floor. I fell on top of him and landed a hard punch to his left cheek. Sam rolled over so that I was trapped underneath him. He slammed his fist into my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. I brought me knee up, connecting with his groin. He grunted, rolling off of me. We both lay on the floor wheezing and groaning.

"I'm not leaving, Sammy!", I croaked. Sam just laid there panting and staring up at the ceiling. "I wish I knew what to say to make everything all better, Sam." He looked over at me and his eyes were glistening with tears that he was desperately trying to hold back. " I wish that I could take all that pain from you, Sammy!" He let the tears go and turned toward me, curling into a tight ball. I grabbed him and held him while he sobbed. "But I can't do either of those things", I whispered. "All I can do is be here for you, Sammy." He clutched onto me like a drowning man clutching onto a life preserver.

"But I can't be here unless you let me in."


I know this chapter is shorter than the others so far, but I felt that this scene needed to stand alone.