Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Warning: NOT A HAPPY STORY.

A/N: Yay! An update! Thank you to Jotade, foreverafangirl93, babyreaper, and for reviewing! I very much appreciate it. To answer babyreaper's question: It will be revealed in this chapter! If I'm not clear enough, let me know so I can be sure to emphasize on it in the future. I was only going to post about one chapter per week, but your responses encouraged me to give you more. Please continue to give me feedback so I know what you guys do and don't like. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

The lines mean either time change or POV change.

Sam's POV

Two and a half days later, Sam paced back in forth in his apartment, phone in hand, ready to call Dean. He had spent the majority of the past several hours trying not to panic by cleaning, but he couldn't stop hearing the animosity in Dean's voice. Not much had been said, but that didn't stop Sam from worrying his head off. He could only hope Dean wasn't still bitter.

He checked the clock again. Ten forty-five at night. Dean should definitely be here by now. Sam sat down and bit at his nails. Where was he? Did he get in an accident? Was Dean going to just bail?

Twenty minutes later, Sam cleaned meticulously. He triple-checked the entire apartment looked nice and spotless and scrubbed the kitchen floor for the fourth time that morning.

After what seemed like eternity and a day, he heard a knock on the door. He rushed to put the sponge in the sink and go to the door, in the process hitting his hip on the table corner. Before opening the door, he dry swallowed two giant pills.

He saw his brother standing there, a strange expression on his face and his entire body tense and ready for action. Sam tried to ignore the gun in his hands. "Dean," Sam said stepping forward to give him a hug. Dean put a hand on his chest to stop him. He swallowed back the hurt and nodded. "Come in."

Dean walked in carefully and looked around, trying to detect any danger. "There aren't any monsters," Sam said. Dean glanced back at him and nodded, putting his gun in his jacket.

Dean's POV

Sam led the way to the way to the kitchen, saying, "Can I get you some water? Something to eat?"

Dean could sense the jittery-ness coming off his brother in waves. Another sign of Sam's anxiety: no clutter, litter, or dirt anywhere to be seen. The Sam he knew didn't bother picking up for his brother. Only when he got worried or afraid did he ever bother cleaning up. Good, he thought, smirking a bit to himself. In the end, the reason for coming had been to find out why. Why did Sam leave and why now? "I'm fine. Let's just get to the point."

"Right," he heard his brother mutter under his breath. He sat down at a small table and motioned for Dean to do the same. Dean took the chair on the opposite side of the table. He wanted to see his brother's face.

Sam looked everywhere but him, keeping quiet. "Why am I here, Sam?" he asked, tired of waiting for him to say something.

"Well, I - uh - was, you know, just wanting to - um-" He cleared his throat.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "No, I don't know. Spit it out."

Sam looked up at him, his puppy eyes on. "I wanted to try to bury the hatchet between us," he said, his voice soft as a mouse.

Dean leaned back and snickered. "I knew it," he said with a sneer. "You thought we could have some sort of reconciliation after 11 years apart. You thought you could put on your big puppy dog eyes and I would come crawling back."

Sam shook his head. "No! Dean, I didn't think you'd come crawling back. I knew you wouldn't! I wanted to say - apologize for leaving you. So, Dean, I'm sorry that I left you. I'm sorry I never called. I'm sorry..."

Fury blinded him. "You're sorry? After all these years all you have to say is sorry? You left us! You never said goodbye and you never called. How could you do that to your own family? And now you're sorry?" Dean got his feet, shouting now. "Well, guess what? It's too little, too late. I will never forgive you for what you did. And there is nothing you can do about it."

Sam sat there stunned. His mouth hung open a little bit and the color completely drained from his face. Dean pinned him with his eyes and eventually saw a tear make its way down his brother's face. Dean scoffed and turned away in disgust. He put his coat back on, having seen enough. He should have trusted his gut telling him this would be a waste of time.

He started walking towards the door and heard the scrape and clatter of a chair hitting the floor. Sam rushed in front of Dean, eyes red with unshed tears and his hair looking strangely limp. "Dean. Please. Don't go. Just- hear me out, okay?" He gasped for breath, as though he'd just finished running a marathon.

Dean looked his little brother straight in the eye. He didn't bother hiding his contempt. He put all the hatred he could muster into that one look. "Goodbye, Sam."

Then he walked past Sam and out the door.

Sam's POV

He had lost everything. Everything was gone. There was no where left to go - no one left to turn to.

He limped back to the kitchen table, beginning to feel the pain in his leg again. At this point, he felt it would be most beneficial to cut it off so the pain would go away. He couldn't remember ever feeling so miserable. Not even the day he became crippled. He wanted to just lay down and sleep and never wake back up.

Sam didn't know how long he sat there reliving those few moments with his brother over and over. It was probably close to five in the morning - six hours later - when he felt the inexplicable urge - no need - to follow Dean and make sure he was safe. He couldn't rid himself of the sensation that something really, really bad was about to happen to his brother. He made a quick, irrational decision that minute. As quickly as he could, he packed in a bag a few clothes and his handgun, silver knife, salt, and iron crow bar - the only remains of his past life. He snatched his keys off the hook and headed out, not bothering to lock the door behind him. Not even five minutes after the feeling hit him, he was zooming after Dean, allowing instinct to guide him.

Eight hours later, Sam needed to sleep. He knew he would get himself in an accident if he drove much further. He thought he was somewhere in Nevada. He pulled into the nearest motel.

Whether by fate or some other mysterious force, there it was. The Impala was sitting all nice and pretty in the parking lot of the Capital Lot Motel. He decided it was probably best to steer clear of his brother for now and got a room several doors down from Dean. His brother hadn't seen the garage, so didn't know what car belonged to him. So long as he closed the blinds, he should remain safe from discovery for the night. Finally, completely spent, he climbed into bed, knowing his brother was not in danger at least until he woke up.

A/N: So what did you think? Did I portray angry Dean as you had imagined? My goal to make him as close to the Dean in the show as possible, the only change being he practically hates Sam - or does he? I almost want him to be like Demon!Dean or just pissed Dean (like in Season 8 when he was made at Sam for not looking for him) from the show. Did I do a good job? Please, please, please let me know via reviews! I really appreciate any and all feedback! Still looking for a beta at this point; PM me if you're interested.

Thank you again for reading! I am looking forward to updating soon!