Title: Forsaken

Author: BlazeorFade

Rating: R

Summary: The sound of the gun cocking let them know this was real.

Warnings: Sam/Dean. Violence and character death

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them If I did I'd be rich and not have to put up with shit.

Betaed by the wonderful lady-shain on LJ, who made the result of my weird ass mood into something good.

John wasn't supposed to be home for another two days. He wasn't supposed to walk in on the two of them. He was never supposed to know. The first screams of outrage were a blur, remnants of a bad dream, Sam thought. The distinct sound of the gun being cocked let them know that this was real. The cold muzzle being pressed to Dean's forehead killed any hope of all three of them coming out of this alive.

"Dad, please?" Dean pleaded but he didn't move. He saw the disgust in his father's eyes and he couldn't bring himself to fight back. Sammy did that for both of them.

"No!" Sam cried tackling John to the ground. They wrestled for the gun, a writhing mound of sweat and rage.

"He has to die! He did this to you!" John was saying, laying all the blame at Dean's feet.

"He didn't dad. He didn't." Sam was crying, hot tears running down his face. His family was broken now and nothing was ever going to fix it. Sam felt John's knee hit his stomach, knocking the air out of him and he lost his grip on the .44 magnum.

Dean closed his eyes, a single tear making its way down his face. He was going to die. Sam was on the floor writhing in pain, trying to drag air back into his lungs and John had the gun pointed at Dean's kneeling form. Hearing the gunshot, Dean sent a silent apology to Sam for leaving him alone in the world. Dean felt nothing.

He opened his eyes and looked down at his chest. There was nothing there; no wound waiting for his brain to catch on and send pain signals through out his body. Dean looked up and saw the gun drop from his father's hand; saw John turning with a look of shock at Sam, who was holding a snub nose .38 in both hands with a look of anguish on his young face. Time seemed to freeze, and then John fell to the ground.

"Oh God Sammy. What did you do?" Dean whispered in horror.

"He was gonna take you away. He was gonna take you away from me and I couldn't let him." Sam was sobbing and shaking. Dean staggered to his feet and across the room to his brother. He pried the gun from Sam's hands and pulled him into his arms

"It's okay. It's okay Sammy." Dean rocked Sam back and forth as he sobbed into Dean's naked shoulder.

Dean heard a wet, gurgling sound and looked over at John. He was gasping, choking on his own blood. There was still a chance to save him. They could call 911, say there was an intruder. There was still time. Dean watched the blood pool around his father and held his lover closer.

"I love you, Sam."

"I love you, Dean." Sam said against his neck.

Their choice made, the brothers watched in silence as John took one last, shuddering breath, then was still...