Name: Reflection of us

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Supernatural. If I would, then... oh boy.

A/N: Hey, this is my first story in here and in english. I'm from Finland, so I'm really sorry about all the spelling mistakes and everything. You know :) so um, yeah. This is just a little (angst) one-shot, written a few months ago

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Sam sat on the cold floor of their motel room's bathroom. His head was on his knees and the air was filled with quiet sobbing. How much worse could this be anymore? He had lost everything he ever had. He had worked so hard and now everything was gone.

His life was so perfect. He had a girlfriend who loved him, he was in Stanford, making his dreams come true. In one night it all had crushed down. Seeing Jess hanging from the ceiling, killed him. It killed him so well. Something broke deep inside of him. Now he was just a shadow of what he used to be.

Sam stood up and took off his clothes and stepped into the shower. He felt dirty.

The hot water ran along his body. The dirty, ugly feeling still stayed. He knew he could never get rid of it. The feeling was there to stay.

Sam was so angry. He was angry to everybody. Why couldn't he be normal? He used to be, but now he was just 'geeky sidekick' and a demonhunter. No one ever asked if he wanted to be any of those. Sam wondered if this was written in the stars. He turned the shower to cold water and get what he wanted. A cold burst of water to his back. The cold water made him gasping. It was like thousands of little needles would have sting him. But the pain felt sweet. Sam bit his lip. He turned off the shower but didn't step out. He just stood there.

'What the hell am I supposed to do? God, I'm so lost'

Sam didn't know how long he stood there, but when he finally stepped out, the water had already vanished from his coffeebrown skin. It was cold but he didn't get dressed when he walked to the mirror. He didn't recognize the person staring at him. The face were the same, but he didn't remember seeing the shadows under the eyes or the defeated look. Suddenly he felt sick. Very sick.

He let everything come out. All the pain, all the sorrow, all the miss and above all, all of the hate and anger. When he lifted his head up, some strange force made him brake the mirror. The mirror broke into millions of pieces, just like Sam himself had that one night.

Sam didn't have a clue what he wanted. He wanted to see Jess again, he wanted to get rid of the pain. But he wanted to stick with Dean. Dean was everything Sam had. Dean's sarcastic comments made Sam mad, but deep inside they were just like sunlight in the dark. He loved Dean, but once, he had loved a girl named Jessica.

"You have to admit to yourself, boy, you're in a dead end"

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Dean sat in the Impala and Metallica was playing in the back. A glass bottle was half empty and was getting more empty every minute when Dean drank the clear liquid. It burned his throat like hell. A dizzy feeling filled his head and made him feel so good. He tried to remember when was the last time he was drunk, but because he couldn't remember, he drank more. A lot more.

He looked at his cell phone and saw a name flashing on the screen; Sam calling. The phone threw across the air to the backseat.

"Oh, fuck Sam, fuck dad, fuck the world!" Dean said and next, the bottle flew through the air and through the window also. A dog started to bark somewhere.

"Fuck the bottle. Fuck the dog. No, that would be pathetic"

Dean was drunk, but not that much that he wouldn't remember the night when their mom died, or the night when Jess died. He felt the alcohol in his head and the pain in Sam's heart.

"Jess' death is my fault"

Dean knew Sam thought so. He never said anything, but Dean knew. Dean had crushed all of Sam's fabulous dreams. Well, technically he had burned his dreams about he and Jess having a family. He started to laugh, but soon it changed into crying. He had done it again, he had ruined it all. Sam would never forgive him. Dean didn't know if he could forgive himself either. Sam said it wasn't Dean's fault, but Dean knew it was. He should have left Sam out of this.

Hot tears fell down his cheeks, but he didn't bothered to wipe them away.

"I'm so fucked up. I'm so fucked up. Man, I hate this. I hate myself right now, more than anything" Dean said to himself.

It started raining outside. Dean stepped out of the car and soon he was all wet. The water ran along his leatherjacket and the cold air made him shaking. Dean looked somewhere up to the skies where the rain came from.

"I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry"

A/N: okay, so there it was. And I hope you know what to do; let me know what you think and should I write more this kind of stuff?