Chapter 2: Breakdown

Author's Note: This final chapter is VERY mushy. If you hate overly emotional things then don't read.

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Dean had driven for eight straight hours. Sam had a feeling Dean would drive all the way to the coast if he let him. All Dean wanted was to put as much distance as possible between them and Lawrence. Sam understood. The past two days had been emotionally draining for both of them. Dean was trying to act so strong, so unfazed, but Sam knew better.

At first Dean had put on a happy face for Sam, especially after their talk about Sam's fears about being cursed, but as the time went by and the road continued to stretch before them Dean had become grumpy and snappy. He had yelled at Sam at least three times today and over truly stupid crap. Now Dean was mad at him simply because he had to go to the bathroom.

"Can't you just hold it?" Dean griped.

"I've been holding it for the past two hours. Dean, if you don't want to stop at a rest stop then at least pull over on the side of the road or your car is going to become very wet very soon."

"Son of a..." Dean mumbled but pulled the car over as soon as he saw a cluster of trees a few feet from the road.

Sam would have preferred a bathroom but at the moment he would settle for almost anything. Sam jumped out of the car and hustled to the trees. After doing his business he moved over and just stood there for a moment.

It felt good to be standing, but it also felt good to be away from the tension of the car. Sam wasn't mad at Dean. He knew why he was so angry, but it was hard to deal with none the less. Sam was also hurting from the last two days. His heart ached for a mother he had never known, a woman who looked at him with such love, and then such pity. He still didn't understand her apology, but he knew that something bad was coming. He just didn't know what.

Without warning the tears returned and he buried his face in his hands. Damn it he didn't want to cry again. Dean would think he was pretty pathetic if he kept breaking down every time something happened, but ever since he had laid eyes on the ghost of his mother he had been struggling to hold it in.

He needed to have some time alone. He needed to get away from Dean and let it out, but Dean didn't show any signs of stopping the car anytime soon.

As his frustration grew to match his heart ache he began to cry, to truly fall apart and sob. Oh god, he needed to pull himself together. Dean was surely getting angrier as he sat in the car waiting for Sam to finish. Any minute now Dean would be coming to get him.

Without even thinking about what he was doing Sam began to run further into the woods and further away from Dean. Tears streaked down his face and his breathing came in short gasps. He had no idea where he was going or even what the hell he was doing. The only thing going through his head was that he couldn't let Dean see how weak he was...what a baby his little brother really was.

The fact that Dean was also struggling with his emotions didn't even cross his mind, or the reason for why Dean was being an asshole.

Sam just continued to run.

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"Sam, where the hell are you?" Dean muttered. It wasn't like Sam could fall in for god's sake. He looked at his watch. Sam had been behind the trees for over five minutes now. He suddenly hoped Sam hadn't had to do the other one. Damn it, he should have just found his brother a bathroom instead of making him search around for some leaves.

Several more minutes dragged by and Dean started to get concerned. He watched the second hand on his watch make one last full circle before he finally opened the car door and went to find Sam. With his luck Sam had probably been bitten in the ass by a snake or something. Well, he had no intentions of sucking poison out of Sam's rear end if that was the case. He'd fight spirits, demons, and even really pissed off poltergeists if he needed to, to protect his little brother, but sometimes you just had to draw the line and a snake bite to the ass was definitely on the other side of the line.

"Sam, what the hell is..." he stopped talking as he rounded the bend and realized Sam wasn't there. He began to turn and look around every where. "Sam?" He walked a little farther on. "SAM!" His brother wasn't any where to be seen.

He looked at the ground to see if he could spot Sam's foot prints. He could see where Sam had stood and then he saw the prints in the dirt move off with long strides between the steps. Sam was running, but why? There were no prints to show that anything had been chasing him, but then most of the things they hunted didn't leave foot prints anyway.

Dean ran back to the car and popped the trunk. He grabbed the shot gun, his blade, and a handful of rounds. He closed the lid and ran back to the woods. He had to find Sam.

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Sam came upon a small stream and he finally stopped running. He had no idea where he was and he didn't care. He sat down hard upon the ground, once more buried his face in his hands, and cried. He didn't hold back this time. No one was around to hear him. He let everything come to the surface; the sadness, the pain, the fear, the worry, the loss, the despair. He cried until he was choking so hard he thought he might vomit and even that didn't stop him.

He just wrapped his arms tight around him self and rocked back and forth in a steady rhythm. He cried for his mother, he cried for Jess, he cried for his missing father, he cried for himself, and he even cried for Dean because he knew his brother would never break down and cry. That seemed every bit as tragic to him as everything else he had endured these past several months.

Sam actually lay down on his side and rested his head on his arms as the tears continued to flow and his nose started to drip. The running water and several birds over head were the only witnesses to his gut wrenching breakdown.

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Dean moved quickly but quietly through the woods. Tracking Sam had been pretty easy. Sam obviously wasn't trying to hide from anything since he had made no attempt to cover his tracks. Or, maybe Sam was in danger and hadn't had time to cover his tracks. That thought spurred Dean on to greater speeds himself.

Finally Dean heard something…crying. He moved in the direction and stepped past a thicket of trees. He stopped cold when he finally saw Sam. His brother was lying on the cold and damp ground sobbing his eyes out. Shit! Dean didn't know how to deal with this. Why couldn't it have been a monster or a demon? Protecting Sam was something he knew how to do almost by instinct, comforting him on the other hand, he didn't have a clue.

He stood there a minute longer and then turned to walk away. Sam didn't know Dean had seen him. He could walk away and just go back to the car and pretend like nothing was wrong. He even took several quiet steps to do just that. Then he realized that he couldn't pretend like nothing was wrong. One look at Sam and it was really fucking obvious something was wrong. Shit, shit, shit! Why did Sam have to fall apart today? Didn't he realize Dean was only holding it together by a thread himself?

Finally Dean took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Sam needed him to be strong, and damn it he would be. At least he had known his mother. True, he didn't remember too much, he'd been five when she died, but still, he could close his eyes and remember some things. Sam had never had that. Sam would never remember being kissed by her, being held by her, or having her read a story to him. Sam's one and only memory of his mother would be of her going up in flames to save him from a poltergeist.

No, that wasn't true; Sam would have a second memory too. For the rest of his life Sam would remember her looking at him with pity and saying she was sorry. Dean had wondered what mom was sorry about. He had his suspicions. Dean believed mom knew about Sam's visions. Then again maybe she was apologizing to him for what happened to Jess. Hell, maybe she was apologizing that Sam had been sucked back into a life he had worked so hard to get out of.

Dean turned around and looked at Sam. He was quieting down. He had finally cried himself out. Dean started to walk over to Sam. Sam made no inclination that he knew Dean was there.

Dean kneeled down and put a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam instantly flinched and sat up. He quickly wiped at his eyes and his nose.

"Dean…I'm…I'm sor…"

"Sam, it's okay," Dean said. "You scared me by running off though."

"I didn't want you to know," Sam replied. "You're always so strong. Nothing bothers you. I wish I was like that. I know you hate chick flick moments."

"Sam."

"I'm sorry if I disappointed you. I was always a disappointment to dad, and now you."

"Sam, I'm not disappointed with you," Dean told him. He had a seat on the ground next to Sam. "You've always been…sensitive."

"Don't you mean a baby," Sam said sarcastically.

"No. Bro, you've been through a lot. I get it, really I do. The truth is the last couple of days did a number on me as well. Seeing mom…and then you…Christ, that thing was strangling you. I was pulling and pulling and I couldn't get it off."

"But you figured it out," Sam said.

"Yeah, but you almost died. For the first time I came up against something I couldn't fight. If it weren't for mom sacrificing herself…I…I don't know what would have happened." Dean's throat was getting tight and it was getting harder and harder to speak. "She was beautiful, wasn't she?"

"Yeah, she was. She kind of reminded me of Jess."

"She looked exactly the same," Dean said. "She hadn't changed a bit…frozen in time I guess."

Sam watched Dean closely. He saw his brother's eyes growing red and glassy and he heard the cracking of his voice. Sam reached out and put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"It's okay you know."

"What's okay?" Dean asked.

"To cry."

Dean laughed, but it came out more like a sob. "I don't cry, Sam. That's more your thing."

"And your thing is to get mad and yell at me for no reason."

Dean looked at him in surprise. He hadn't realized he had done that to Sam, but now that Sam had mentioned it, he guessed he had been acting like a bossy jerk since leaving Lawrence this morning.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it out on you…I guess you and I just have different ways of dealing with shit."

"Yeah, well, it was no big deal. I know I don't always make things easy on you. I don't mind being your verbal punching bag once in a while." Sam drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. It was starting to get late and he was getting cold now, yet he didn't want to go back to the car just yet.

Dean must have sensed Sam's need. Though he felt a little self conscious, he reached his arm out and wrapped it around Sam's shoulders. Sam turned his head and gave him a sad little smile before looking back at the running water.

The two sat that way in silence for almost a half an hour, just taking comfort in the other's presence. Finally Dean motioned for Sam it was time to go. The sun had set and the moon was full in the sky.

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Dean watched as Sam slept. His brother was out. All the crying earlier had exhausted him. He walked over to Sam and pulled the covers up to his shoulders and tucked him in.

Sam remained soundly asleep. Dean grabbed his car keys and his coat. He opened the motel room door as quietly as possible and then pulled it shut behind him. He walked over to his car and got inside. He turned on the battery without turning on the engine. At once Pantera drummed loudly though the speakers, but not so loud as to wake anyone in their rooms.

Dean laid his head on the steering wheel and closed his eyes. A moment later the tears came…and Dean cried.

The end