Dean:

(…Three weeks later…)

I wake up in my bed and I feel that the stomach-ache got worse. I've got really bad stomach-aches the last weeks and I think that it is because I took over Sam's wounds. I also feel a little light-headed sometimes, but Sam cannot know that I traded my soul to save his live.

When I stand up from my bed, I walk up to the bathroom.

It's dark so I can't see a thing. I push on the light and my reflection shows in the mirror.

Blood is dripping from my nose and I'm very dizzy. I wipe the blood away with my hand and I know this isn't a good thing.

I open the tap and splash some water into my face.

When the blood is completely gone I make myself ready for breakfast.

I put on a blouse and jeans. I walk downstairs, but I'm not coming down in the normal way.

When I'm halfway down I get really light in my head.

I feel how I fall down and I hear the banging noise of me falling down.

I can't see Sam's reaction 'cause by the time I'm downstairs, I've passed out.

I wake up laying on two chairs and Sam is hanging over me.

He looks worried.

"Dean? How did that happen?"

I think about what I should say, but once Sam needs to know the truth. But now is not once, I decide.

"Ehm, I wasn't looking and I slipped," I lie while I get up.

Sam shakes his head.

"Don't lie to me Dean," he says with a worried look on his face.

"I'm not lying," I lie again, but Sam doesn't believe me.

"Dean, please just tell me what happened. What really happened."

I'm thinking to maybe say it to him. He won't believe me if I keep lying every time.

"I don't know if you want to hear that," I say and I look at my hands.

"Yes, Dean, I want to hear it."

"All right. I sold my soul to get you out of your coma," I say.

Sam looks angry at me and then takes his hand through his hair.

"Dean, how could you! Again?" he angrily says. "What was the deal?"

I know he's going to be quite angry at me.

"Your wounds moved to my body," I tell Sam.

Now he is really angry.

"Does that mean…"

"…That I'm going to end up in a coma too? Probably."

Sam looks stressed.

"How long before that happens?"

"I don't know," I answer. "But I don't think long."

"So when you passed out at that case with Charlie last week, was that the coming coma too?"

I nod and I still feel bad about that. Charlie almost died because of my stupidity.

Sam is so angry, I can't see him like this.

"Dean, why?"

"I couldn't keep watching you in that hospital. You could be asleep for months, even years, and maybe even forever! I couldn't watch my little brother laying there, knowing that if he would wake – and that's a big if – up he had a chance to be paralyzed and would sit in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I couldn't think about that future for you," I say and I feel tears burning my eyes.

Sam still looks angry.

"You did it 'cause you couldn't watch it. You again did it for yourself!"

Sam walks away from me.

"No, Sam! Please!"

I let my head fall in my hands and I yell, I scream, but only on the inside.