My name is Dean Winchester, and I am a dead man. Seriously, you might not believe me, but the fact that I'm still breathing doesn't disprove my statement. My brother shot me in the chest tonight, his invisible bullet ripping through my heart. Sammy, don't shoot! Sammy, it's me!
I was murdered, by my own brother as soon as I heard the empty gun click.
Sammy, it's me…it's Dean! I was hurt, physically, I was shot with rock salt, by Sammy, might I add; but the most pain I felt tonight came from those invisible bullets. They killed me. Everything I had was gone. The reason I was alive was ripped from me.
You really want me dead then? I was still breathing because of Sammy. I was still alive so I could make sure everything would turn out alright for him, to fulfill many fearful promises I had made when we were younger.
You'd really shoot me? Just like that? I know I don't show it sometimes Sammy, but you're my brother, and I love you. I would do anything for you, damn, I have done everything for you.
I mean that little to you? Remember all those times when we were younger that I protected you? How many times had your scared little voice called out in the dark for me? Over a hundred. And how many times had I answered? Every time. I love you Sammy and I would do anything to protect you.
You want me dead? I guess you don't care then, don't care about me giving up my childhood to take care of you. You don't care that I was four going on thirty the moment I held you in my arms. Hell, if Mom hadn't died I still would protect you from everything.
You'd shoot me in the chest? You're my little brother, and I love you. I've only loved you, Mom, and Dad. And think about it, Mom is dead. No way around that one.
Your own brother. She left us when we were too small to realize what a hole she left in out lives. What a hole she left in our father. And speaking of Dad, dear old Dad. I did everything he ever asked of me, everything, and he still left me. Abondoned me and didn't even look back! I'm not important to him either. He doesn't love me either. I'm just this family's door mat. So desperate to know that someone values me. That's why I'm a good little soldier, Sammy. Seeing as you asked.
You left me too before, as I recall. But then I knew it was just because of your burning desire to be normal. I never thought you hated me, I never thought that I was one of the reasons why you left. I guess I really am the dumb one.
Damn it Sammy, it's me! But at least I had you, my little brother who I had shielded since he was born. He still loved me, he would care if I died, and he would ditch his perfect life and come looking for me if I ever disappeared. I know it's mushy, but I needed to know that. Needed to know that I mattered, to someone. And you were it Sammy, you were my last lifeline.
'Click' but now, I don't even have you.
"Where are you going?" I heard you ask it, and the sound of your voice made me want to put my head through a wall,
"Out" I snapped. I didn't mean it the way it sounded, or maybe I did. Maybe a little. Still, when I saw the slight hurt in your eyes I cursed myself for causing it and slammed out of the motel room, angry at you, angry at myself, angry at the world. I jumped in my car, and turned up my music, letting the power chords strip me of my emotion. Rob me of my feelings. It had always worked before. Anytime I was feeling down, some heavy guitar would pound it out of me. Not this time. No, this time I still felt the dull ache in my chest where my heart should have been, if you hadn't put a hole through it. I pounded my hands on the steering wheel, and tried to beat the anger and sadness out of me. It didn't work. I seriously considered driving off right then and there. No warning, just take off. Maybe right off a cliff. But you and I both know I would never do that. Because even though you killed me tonight, I have to protect you tomorrow. Those damned feelings, dead people aren't supposed to have feelings, but they were plaguing me just the same. I couldn't drive them out with music. Or pound them out with my fists. There was only one other way.
God, how stupid I felt, sitting in my kick-ass car, bawling like a baby. I hadn't meant to cry that much, I didn't know I could cry that much. But after I admitted to myself that after you, I had nothing left, I couldn't stop crying. And I'll kill you if you ever tell anyone about this. Damn, I was glad no one could see me. It started out small, and then I just kept thinking. If you could have killed me tonight, you would have. Every bit of love I had bestowed upon you was meaningless; you couldn't care less about me. Damn, my last lifeline was cut.
I hate to sound so needy, but I guess that's just how I feel. At least, that's how I felt when my entire body was racked with sobs. I would have laughed at myself, if I wasn't so damned miserable. I don't know how long I sat in there, my head in my hands, shaking uncontrollably, but you didn't come out of the motel room, Sammy. You didn't come to check on me. But...what should I have expected? I guess I should start calling you Sam now. You weren't my Sammy anymore, and you never will be again. And that, more then anything made me want to rip out what was left of my heart. Seriously, I must sound like a chick right now, but it's true.
You were it…Sam. You were the last thing I was breathing for. But you shot me, at point-blank range, like I was your enemy. Me, the brother that had always been there, I would die for you Sam. If you wanted me dead, dead I was going to be. So I won't complain anymore about the hole in my heart, that was already ripped in two. I will protect you like I always have. You'll always be safe when you're with me. It's just any emotion has been taken out of it, all the anger and the saddness. I think I sobbed all of it out. I don't forgive you Sam. I can't forgive you for killing me. Not just yet. But I'll always be there for you, your brother. The one you killed without any bullets. The walking dead.