Author's Note: Holy cow! I just wrote this last night and already received 17 amazing reviews. I'm so happy that everyone liked the first chapter. Thank you so much for the kind words.

I did want to mention that I posted my story before anyone else, so I didn't copy. (LOL.) I actually stayed up all night to type it, so there! Okay, now that I'm past my adolescent temper tantrum… on with the story. Seriously, I think there are ten of them now. Whoa…I guess that ending really made everyone mad, huh?

Chapter 2: (Sam's POV)

Continues from where Dean's POV left off.

Sam stared at his brother's back one final time before turning his face away from Dean's bed to angrily wipe his eyes. Dean hadn't looked at him once since they'd left the asylum and he couldn't blame him. He couldn't bear to look at himself in the mirror without remembering what he had done.

His breath hiccupped as a tear escaped the tightly closed lids. The memories flooded his mind. It was as if he was watching everything happen from a barred window unable to escape the torture of what he was seeing in front of him. Sam watched himself with wide eyes, watching as his finger pull the trigger and the salt rock bullets spiral and hit Dean's chest, sending him crashing through the secret door and into the devil doctor's den. He had seen and heard every word spoken and every action he committed against his brother. He'd almost killed his brother--he almost shot him, point blank, in the heart with a gun that Dean had handed him. "If you hate me that much, why don't you kill me?" Dean had told him and the crazy spirit that had taken over happily obliged him by pulling the trigger. Thanking whatever spirits above protected his brother, the gun was not loaded.

Rubbing his face, he bit his lip at the memory of what he'd told Dean before he'd shot him. That he was tired of following his orders, of doing whatever he wanted--what their father wanted. A small cry flew from his mouth, unnoticed by the sleeping lump in the other bed. Right before the cell phone had rung, he had been thinking that he hated it when Dean bossed him around, very upset that the strangers he had been leading to safety believed Dean was in command of their 'operation.' He was so sick of Dean and his cocky attitude--Sam wanted his own life, one that did not revolve around hunting things that went bump in the night. Sam never thought-- The damned spirit made his last thought come true, in the most horrible way that it could. By making him kill his own flesh and blood.

Dean had always been there for him, always, and without a single doubt Sam knew Dean would die for him, just as he would die to protect Dean. Dean saved his life countless times, most recently in their childhood home, unwrapping the cord that had wrapped around his throat and coaching him to breathe. Though they never spoke about it, Sam felt Dean trembling as he held him against his shoulder tightly, obviously just as scared as he had been at the close call of death.

Sam felt his head was spiraling out of orbit as he tried to grasp the situation for what it really was. He--Sam Winchester--had shot his brother and nearly killed him. And now, his brother Dean was completely ignoring him. He had to make Dean listen to him; had to make him understand that he never meant to hurt him and that he didn't mean the things that he had said.

Turning back to face his brother's bed, he just watched the rise and fall of the sheets as Dean breathed while he thought of how to apologize; assuming, of course, that Dean would let him. This time, he promised himself, he wasn't going to let Dean get away from talking to him. He needed to tell him how he felt and needed him to understand how much he loved him; Dean was his brother.

The sound of the phone jarred him from his thoughts. "Dean?" Sam called out, assuming that Dean would get up to answer his phone as he always did. This time, the sound did not seem to register as Dean continued to sleep soundly.

Shaking his head slightly, he picked up the cell phone and opened the flap. "Hello?" No one answered him in response. A thought came to Sam, "Dad? Dad, is that you?" No one answered as the phone disconnected with it's usual humming buzz.

He stared at the cell phone in his hand after he had slowly shut it off with a weary sigh. Why couldn't it have been his father? Why didn't he know that his sons needed him right now?

Sam was tired now, feeling that his energy was suddenly drained from him. He felt as if he had been on an emotional rollercoaster the last few months with this last adventure the icing on the cake. Propping himself on the pillows behind him, Sam let the weariness take over. Maybe, just this once he wouldn't dream of Jessica's death above his bed, knowing in his heart, the nightmare of killing his own brother would haunt him for weeks to come.

To Be Continued…

Author's Explanation:

#1. The reason why I wrote about Dean's physical pain, and why I KNOW there's something seriously wrong with him was at the end of the episode, Dean did not pick up the phone. Dean is a light sleeper, he continuously complains that Sam's nightmares keep him awake and that he knows for a fact that he has them every night. Leads me to believe he's a light sleeper. (I'm a light sleeper too, and anyone who moves around the room, opens my door, or the phone ringing will wake me.) Therefore, Dean had to be in a coma or something not to have answered the phone. (LOL.) I will describe this in the next chapter.

#2. The whole "Dad?" on the cell phone thing does not seem likely to me. Their father told the psychic woman that he wasn't going to talk to his boys until he "discovered the truth"… one episode doesn't seem long enough for him to discover it, in my eyes. It was just a wrong number to me.

#3. The "dad" thing would only take away from Dean and Sam. Who cares about their dad? (Not me…)

#4. Thanks for reading my crazy explanations. Now, please review!