They sat on Bobby's old beat up couch, it was probably sometime after 2am, and Dean tried to ignore the little things that kept adding up on the 'not at all ok' list, like how Sam kept shivering, how he asked Dean to turn down the volume when it was already barely audible, how he kept flinching whenever he looked at Dean, how he ran to the bathroom to puke after taking a sip of beer, and how his eyes kept drifting to the weapons bag in the kitchen.

"Hey Sam?" He asked, Sam shivered again, his hands shaking slightly.

"hmm?" Sam answered, his eyes were focused on that spot in the kitchen, refusing to look at Dean.

"What's he doing?" Dean tried his best to keep his voice casual

"W-Who?" Sam's voice seemed to crack, but Dean ignored it.

"Lucifer."

for a while it seemed Sam wouldn't answer.

"Reminding me." Sam whispered finally

"Reminding you of what?" Dean's voice was soft, gentle.

"What I am." Sam breathed, and another shudder accompanied the first, Sam seemed to squeeze himself into a corner of the couch, willing himself to shrink away.

"Sam" Dean's voice remained gentle only by sheer will power. "You are my pain-in-the-ass little brother." He put as much genuinity as he could into that fact without the anger that bubbled at the edges of his willpower.

"Jerk." Sam agreed, and Dean could tell there was no heart in his words
.

Dean reached out a hand and put it on his brother's shoulder. "Sam."

Sam only nodded, trying to hide the compulsive flinch

"Sam." Dean sighed, pulling his hand away. "I get that things are a thousand ways to screwed, but we've faced those odds before and came out okay. Stone number one yeah?"

Sam was quiet again, before whispering something that Dean couldn't quite make out.

"Sam? Say something?"

"I don't want to hurt you Dean." Sam's voice had more force in it. "I almost- and I just- I don't even know if I would know what I was doing."

Dean's eyebrows drew together "You almost what Sam?"

"I almost shot you Dean," Sam's voice raised. "that day in the kitchen, I almost shot you and I didn't even know I was doing it." Sam's face was tight, his hands clenching and unclenching, breathing forced.

"Sam-" Dean started

"No, no don't tell me it wasn't like that, I was there." Sam stood, and started pacing the small room. "I was there and I just, I wasn't even thinking, he was just sitting there and talking and I thought I had it under control bu-"

"Sam" Dean stool, but his brother seemed to be lost in his own head.

"but then my body just reacted to his suggestion and-" Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair "I don't know if I'm ever going to get better, it seems to just be getting worse, and sometimes I think it is best if you drop me off at a -"

"SAM" Dean grabbed his brother forcefully by the shoulder, turning Sam to face him. "You didn't almost shoot me."

"Dean I was there." Sam protested, his eyes closing slowly "I couldn't live with that."

"Sam you didn't point any guns at me." Dean gave Sam a small shake, his hand clenching tighter.

"Dean-" Sam opened his eyes, they seemed so, Dean didn't know what, so not like Sam.

"You pointed that gun at yourself" Dean couldn't hide the desperation in his own voice.

Sam stared, eyes seeming to see past Dean. "I… are you sure? You're not bullshitting me?"

"I swear Sam" Dean hated the relief that flooded over his brother's body and Sam slipped out of his hands, collapsing back on the couch like a limp dog.

Dean placed himself next to his brother, concerned eyes studying Sam's face.

"I thought" Sam swallowed "I-" Sam's voice died out, his face struggling to maintain control.

"I know, I know that in this line of work, we don't have any guarantees the next day, neither of us do." Dean swallowed "but that doesn't mean I won't do everything I can to make sure you're not the one who goes first." He gave Sam a serious expression. "You scared me, in a way that wouldn't be possible had you just been pointing that pistol at me."

Sam only nodded, as if there was some other noise distracting him.