My name is Sam Winchester and I'm a murderer. I shot my brother in the chest tonight. He didn't see it coming, I didn't either. But he deserved it.

You never stand your ground! You play the part of the tough guy, but Dad pushes you around! I can honestly say I've never been that angry before, I know it was the Dr's fault, but it kinda felt good to let it out.

You could have gotten out! To finally let Dean know what I was thinking, how I felt. I'm not as good at bottling things up as Dean is. I had to tell him, I had to. Something unnatural was pushing those hateful words from my mouth.

You just let Dad walk all over you! I wasn't going to kill him, not until he handed me the gun. That bright, shiny gun. That was my ticket out, my ticket away from Dean, away from Dad, away from the Winchester way of life. And Dean was handing it right to me.

You want to do this for the rest of your life? I couldn't believe it, he was handing me himself in a box, it was too perfect. I always knew Dean would die for me, but he would let me kill him?

You want to be Dad's doormat forever? He was staring at me with cool, cocky eyes. He wanted me to do it, I knew it. He was daring me to pull the trigger with those eyes of his that only infuriated me further. So I did it. I pulled the trigger.

'Click' but as soon as that noise echoed, proving the absence of bullets Dean's confidence left his eyes. And for a split moment he just looked at me. He was hurt, he didn't believe I would do it, that I could do it, but I did. He looked at me, and I knew what he was thinking, Sammy…why? Then he knocked me out. He made it better; he beat the bad guys, just like he always did. He was the hero…again. He always was the hero, and the miasma of resentment that was following me around grew darker and more turbulent. It followed me all the way back to our motel.

"Where are you going?" I wanted to know, he had said he was tired, he just wanted some sleep. Now he was up and leaving,

"Out" his voice was full of venom and it stung. So I didn't follow him. He slammed the door forcefully and I winced. This was going to be a long night. Guilt is my new best friend I guess, it follows me around wherever I go. Guilt and his older brother anger. I didn't want to shoot him. I just wanted him to see. I know that I shot him; I know that he took it hard, but honestly I don't regret it. What a horrible brother I am, I don't regret pulling the trigger on Dean, especially since it was empty. I regret the look in his eyes, the how could you? Look. I wanted to shrivel up and die on the spot right then and there. But pulling the trigger? No, I don't regret that. I was just so angry, so enraged, and the look in his eyes was so infuriating I...I can't explain it. I was riding on a high of pure unadulterated hatred. I still haven't come down from that dizzying feeling. He left the room; I guess he couldn't stand to be in the same room with me. I don't blame him.

I wish I felt bad about trying to kill him. Felt bad like I should. I wish I wanted to rip my heart out and plead for forgiveness from my only brother, but the anger is still swirling around in my head blocking out all thoughts of reconciliation. I flung myself onto the bed and clenched my eyes shut trying to get his eyes out of my head. In the haze of ire his hurt eyes cut through the fog and looked at me. I wish they wouldn't look at me. He seemed so disbelieving, he couldn't fathom that I would do that, would shoot him. I couldn't believe it myself at first, I shot Dean, my Dean. I was just so angry.

I can't explain it, everything Dean had ever done for me melted away and all I could think about was the harm he had caused. All those times I had wished I didn't have an older brother, or a dad, that I was a normal boy, or even an orphan. I'm ashamed of those thoughts now, but it's how I felt and I couldn't deny the boiling resentment that was building up inside of me. If I was someone else, I would have a mom. If I was someone else, Jess would still be alive. If Dean wasn't my brother I would be someone else.

It's twisted logic, I know, but I put all of my fear, my hatred, and my loneliness into Dean. And then I shot all those feelings. Killed them, killed Dean. As I thought about it the haze of anger was wearing off slowly leaving me with a headache and I sat up, looking out the window to see if I could see Dean. I pulled back the curtains that smelled like smoke and stale liquor and peered out. I saw the Impala sitting in the parking lot with the lights on and the music blaring. I could feel the power chords from where I stood. I strained my eyes to see Dean, and when I did see him, I wished I didn't.

I couldn't believe what I saw, Dean was broken, he was crying. My Dean, Mr. Tough Guy, was sobbing. And it was my fault. Ever since I was little I was convinced that nothing could affect Dean, when I cried at the littlest things, he always made the tears stop. And looking back on it, I've never seen Dean cry…ever. I've seen the red puffy eyes but it was always put off by a "shut up Sammy." I tried to think that he might be sad for some other reason, but that was an exercise in futility, my rock was dissolving, and it was all my fault. Damn.

I contemplated going out to the car. Telling him I was sorry, even if I didn't mean it entirely. At the sight of Dean so depressed the mist that had been hovering over my head finally cleared and I wasn't angry anymore. Anger abandoned me and left me with guilt, and his girlfriend, fear. Oh God, I shot Dean. I shot him, in the chest, I tried to kill him, oh, god, oh, god. Suddenly it was harder to breathe. Man, we must be the most dysfunctional brothers ever, you sitting in your car raked with tears, me on a shitty motel bed raked with guilt. Yet neither of us would talk about it. Damn it Dean, I didn't mean it, I didn't…yes I did. Oh, God. I did mean it, but I didn't mean it. Oh, to make you understand you were everything to me…are, you are everything to me. You are my big brother. You have always been there, oh god…I shot you. I'm sorry Dean, I'm so, so sorry. If only there was a way to tell you how sorry I am. Oh, Dean…please forgive me.

Coming soon: The one in the bushes sees the brothers as they finally talk….