Sorry this took so long guys, but I actually ended up in the emergency room for a few hours with an asthma attack. I am doing much better, but am not sleeping great and not feeling fantastic. Working on this helped distract me though, and your reviews really made me smile. Please keep reading and reviewing, and thanks!
Sam stood frozen, eyes unable to look away from the knife blade now prominently displayed in his brother's stomach. As the blood gushed forward, Dean's knees buckled and he collapsed onto his back, crying out in anguish as the motion jarred the steel slicing through his insides.
As Dean collapsed, so did Sam, dropping to his knees besides the writhing figure of his brother. "DEAN!" Sam screamed, trying desperately to think of something, anything to do, only able to stare in horror as blood bubbles oozed up from Dean's moaning mouth.
Dean's back arched suddenly as a pain wave shot through his body, and Sam placed his hands on Dean's stomach, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. But his palms slipped in the fountains of blood as more blood trickled from Dean's mouth.
"Oh god Dean, that's internal bleeding, that's…what do I do…God Dean I'm so sorry…I didn't…DEAN!" Sam was screaming, ranting, his body shaking, any breath he managed to get in reminding him of the breath Dean was quickly losing.
Sam heard footsteps coming up quickly behind him, and he knew he should try to defend himself, but at that moment he didn't care if he lived or died, only that he had killed the person he loved most in the world. Arms wrapped around Sam from behind and began dragging him away, whoever had him saying something into his ear, but all Sam understood was that whoever this was was taking him away from Dean, Dean who Sam had stabbed, Dean who was…who was dying.
"NO!" Sam screamed, clawing desperately to get back to Dean's side. The strong arms dragged him out of the room and down the stairs, Sam grabbing at anything within reach in an attempt to try to get back to Dean, but the only result was splinters piercing his palms.
Sam was dragged out onto the grass outside, the night now almost as black as the inside of the house had become. Prostrate on his knees, Sam retched, vomiting up what felt like everything he had ever eaten in his entire life. A strong arm held him around the chest, steadying him as his body quivered with his gagging and his shock and his grief.
Suddenly Sam realized a hand was gently rubbing his back in small circles. Turning around, Sam's eyes immediately fell on the so familiar necklace hanging around a very much alive Dean's neck. Sam laughed, and then cried, great gulping sobs he couldn't hold back.
Dean pulled him in tightly, holding the back of Sam's head against his chest, and the voice that had been murmuring in Sam's ear finally broke through. "Ssh, Sammy, it's ok, I'm right here. I'm right here." Alex, Grace, and Becky had run out onto the front lawn, but Sam's entire focus was on Dean.
"Shape…shifter…" Sam managed to gasp out, half-laughing, half-sobbing.
"Yeah, yeah it was, Sammy. Just take a few deep breaths." Dean buried his chin in Sam's hair, clutching his hysterical brother to him. "It's ok." Sam tried to breathe normally, but the sobs were too much and he choked on the air that couldn't get in. "It's ok, Sammy, I'll breathe with you, ok?"
Dean took in slow even breaths, his chest rising and falling against Sam's back, and within a few minutes Sam's breath matched his brother's. "There you go, Sammy, good job," Dean murmured.
"I need to clean my hands," Sam insisted frantically, staring at his hands, covered in blood he had thought to be his brother's.
"Ok, just give me your hands," Dean said firmly, taking Sam's hands and rubbing them along the grass until the blood was gone.
"Thanks," Sam said, his voice sounding steadier. He put his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths, and then pushed himself into a standing position. Dean put his steadying hands on Sam's shoulders as his body swayed slightly, but Sam soon regained his composure.
"You alright?" Dean asked in concern, wincing at the pain still evident in Sam's eyes.
"Getting there," Sam answered, offering up a weak smile. He suddenly dropped back to the grass, retching, head pressed against the dirt. Dean dropped down beside him, arm around his shoulders. "Or not," Sam added shakily. "How much did you see up there?"
"Enough to know I'd be doing the same thing if the roles were reversed," Dean responded kindly, brushing Sam's hair back from his pale face. "You gonna be ok?"
"Yeah," Sam answered, but Dean didn't believe him, the tears still pouring from Sam's eyes telling a different story.
"Don't make me lift up my shirt and show you my perfect abs to prove there's no hole in me," Dean threatened with a laugh, and Sam responded in kind, a genuine smile finally gracing his features.
"Jerk," Sam said, reaching his arm out to smack Dean in the shoulder.
"Bitch," Dean responded, smiling broadly, helping Sam stand up again.
"What happened?" Grace asked, her voice frightened.
"Sammy, you explain however you feel best," Dean said. "I'm going to go take care of…the thing upstairs."
"Not by yourself!" Sam insisted, starting to follow him.
"They're long gone by now," Dean replied, patting Sam's shoulder. "I need to get the body out since I'm supposed to be dead already."
"I'll go with you," Becky said suddenly, and Sam smiled at her gratefully. Becky and Dean walked back into the house as Sam turned to face Grace and Alex's questions.
"Ok so…" Sam began, then sighed. "So I'm just going to tell the truth. When I told you that that guy who died who looked exactly like Dean-that that was a case of mistaken identity-well, it…it wasn't. It was a shapeshifter."
"A what?" Alex asked incredulously, just as Dean and Becky brought out the body, Dean positioning himself so he was blocking Sam's view of the blood soaked body. Alex and Grace ran over to look, Sam staying behind. When Alex and Grace came back, they could only stare at Sam.
"Sam, that…that looked exactly like Dean," Grace stammered out.
"Believe me, I know," Sam answered, his body involuntarily shuddering.
"And it was a…a shapeshifter that got shot at the bank?" Alex asked, his eyes showing how fast his mind was racing.
"Yeah it was. Are you actually believing me on this?" Sam asked incredulously. "And you're not running away screaming?"
"Well, we did see the body, and besides…you were never a good liar Sam," Grace said with a laugh. "You definitely aren't lying now. We could always tell."
"She's got an excellent point Sammy," Dean said with a smirk, walking back with Becky.
"It's Sam, and…yeah, yeah she does," Sam said with a laugh, unable to stop smiling as he realized his friends weren't going to abandon him because of his life.
"I think Sammy's a cute nickname," Grace said with a smile.
"Do not encourage him," Sam insisted, pointing a finger at Dean. "He won't stop calling me that as is."
"Look, I vote we talk about this in the morning," Dean suggested, looking at Sam in concern, a mocking smirk playing across his face. "My little Sammy here looks pretty worn out." Sam swatted Dean across the head, an exasperated laugh escaping Sam's lips.
"Yeah, cause you're gonna win a beauty pageant," Sam retorted. "But you're right, actually. I am pretty tired."
"You guys are my witnesses," Dean said, pointing at Sam's friends. "Sammy here just admitted I'm right." Punching Dean in the arm, Sam looked to his friends.
"Do you guys think we could crash here tonight?" Sam asked. "It's pretty far to the motel."
"Of course," Alex answered, leading them inside. "We wouldn't have it any other way." He led Dean and Sam inside, settling them into a room on the first floor. "Just give me a call if you need anything."
"Thanks man," Dean answered. When Sam made no response, Dean turned to find Sam already out cold on the bed. Dean laughed quietly, walking over to pull a blanket over Sam. For a while Dean just stared at Sam, at the worry lines creasing his forehead, the bags under his eyes, his torn-up hands. "I'm sorry Sammy," Dean whispered, lightly resting his hand on Sam's arm. "I'll miss you more than I could ever say, but I can't risk you anymore."
With one long glance back at his brother, Dean picked up his things and quietly exited the house, getting in the Impala and driving up the road.