I know I haven't uploaded in a while (sorry about that), but I've had some computer trouble on top of school, being confused, school, not knowing where this story is going, parties, school... *sigh* Well, here's the next chapter!

Sam was fourteen when Dean and him thought his father had died during a hunt.

The monster had come from behind and was charging towards Dean. Dean, who hadn't noticed it, didn't move. Instead he stared ahead of him, watching out for the creature. Soon, the monster leaped upon his back, ready to dig its claws into the back of the eighteen year old. Sam hadn't realized the creature and had done nothing but standing at his post a few trees away. He remembered his father strict tone saying something along the lines of "and if you even dare complaining or getting distracting, it won't be this monster who kills you". Sam shuddered at his father's hushed - so that Dean didn't hear him - and absolutely furious voice.

Sam heard a roar behind him; John's yell.

He pulled the gun ready as a reflex when he saw Dean shooting the creature and his father sitting limply on the ground by a tree. Sam looked up at the tree and saw a trickle of blood dripping down the bark.

The monster hit Dean with a brute amount of force, before he could stab the monster with the silver dagger.

At this moment, Sam was running towards him with a speed that made his legs feel as though the weren't even touching the forest floor. He flew himself towards the creature and aimed for the heart with his own silver knife.

Crap, he missed with an inch. The monster shrieked loudly at the shock of the speed of the unexpected boy. This was when Dean thrust his own knife an inch to the left of where Sam had dug his knife in, and the creature was dead.

Dean gasped.

"Good job, Sam," he said with a grin as Sam extended his hand to help Dean up.

"You're the one who killed it," Sam said, his low-confidence shining once again. Dean huffed.

"Dude, you practically did all the work with the surprise stabbing. Also, I probably wouldn't have made it if dad hadn't jumped up in time to save me," Dean said and looked over to where he thought his father would stand and look down, probably kick, the vicious creature. Dean's face drained of colour. Yes, his father was where he expected him to be, but he wasn't standing. He was slumped in an awkward position by the tree that Sam noticed the blood on. The blood had trickled down all the way to John's head - the place where the blood had come out the first place.

"No, nononono," Dean gasped as he rushed to his father's limp side. Sam gazed at his brother attending his father.

"Sam, what are you doing staring there? Get the first-aid kit, now!" Dean called urgently, fumbling his fingers towards John's neck to find a pulse.

Is he dead? Sam thought with no emotion. He didn't have the slightest clue know how to react.

Sam didn't react until Dean's second "Now!". He snapped out of his daze and rushed towards the car reluctantly, and hated himself for it. Sure, he hated John, with all his heart, but did he really want him to die? Did he really want the person who had raised him, to die? No, wait. John hadn't been the one to raise him, Dean had.

Anger boiled up inside Sam as he found the aid kit. He grabbed it tightly and made his way back to where John and Dean were. Dean was bent over John's unconscious body with watery eyes.

"Sam hurry!" Dean boomed from beside his broken father. Sam ran towards them, hatefully regretting every step.

No, I hate him but I don't want him to die, Sam thought while he ran. It's him or me though.

Sam didn't know what he regretted. Him helping John? Him not wanting to help John? Making John hate him?

Dean snatched the kit from Sam's hand as soon that he could reach it.

"Is he alive?" Sam spoke quietly. Dean gave him a dark, unforgettable stare.

"Of course he is Sam. He has to be."

Sam nodded and swallowed. He stared at John's limp body. He looked weak and vulnerable. Sam, for once, felt safe.

"Are you just going to fucking stand there?" Dean voiced aggressively at Sam. "HELP HIM!" He urged.

Sam nodded and began assessing the wounds and stopped the bleeding.

He was still alive, just unconscious.

Sam didn't have a slightest clue how to feel. How could he? He drogue his father's limp body back to the Impala together with Dean, resisting the urge to "accidentally" bump him into something.

When John woke up in the familiar motel room six hours later with a headache from hell, he turned his head to Sam.

"Should've been you," he said painfully through gritted teeth before Dean walked into the room, happy to see his father up.

Sam was dumbfounded.

Twenty days after

John stared at his eldest son. After his outburst - well hushed words as he couldn't say anything too loudly - Dean was still red in his face. John still wondered whether his lawyer had heard him and hoped he hadn't. He didn't know why he didn't was the lawyer to hear it as she had to keep silent, but he was starting to feel something.

Embarrassment? Guilt? It is my fault- no, no, no, NO! John argued to himself in his head.

"You're a robot, John!" Dean practically yelled, which was followed by a hush from John.

"Dean-" John warned him again, glancing towards the door. Dean spoke in a hushed voice filled with venom.

"Do you know the damage you've done? Sam tried to-" Dean stopped and took a breath. No. He couldn't tell John that Sam had been, hopefully still wasn't, suicidal. He couldn't let John win. He still stuck to another terrible truth. "-cut himself," he finished.

John nodded gravely.

I know. He thought, but didn't say to Dean. The outcome would be horrifying if Dean found out that John had even encouraged Sam so cut himself.

"Dean-"

"What!" Dean snapped.

"I said that I was sorry. I need a favour," John spoke seriously. Dean laughed, loudly, unhumorously and hatefully, before slamming his fist into the table.

"You must be FUCKING kidding me," he growled loudly.

"I know it was a mistake," John said, his head low, trying to get sympathy. Dean ignored it.

Pathetic, he thought. Where's the great John Winchester, the super-hero?

"Mistake? You've been abusing him for four fucking years! I don't even know how Sam can even function! How he didn't give up…" Dean drained his words with a cough.

John got straight to the point.

"I need you to drop the charges."

Dean stopped and stared into his father's pathetic eyes.

Why didn't I just leave him in the woods to die? Dean thought, thinking back to when he thought John had been killed by the monster. He remembered how Sam just had stood there in what Dean thought was shock. He had yelled at him to help, but now he knew why he just stood there - Sam considered just leaving John there to die. Instead, Dean had forced him to help John out, stop his bleeding and carry him to the car. Sam could've gotten out that night. Dean remembered how John had thrown himself in front of Dean and taken the monster on himself, how Dean had admired him afterwards and how he couldn't have asked for a better dad. Dean knew that he would never have done the same for Sam.

Dean shook his head, erasing his thoughts.

"You know what," Dean spat through clenched teeth. John looked up at him with hope. "You can go fuck yourself and your charges."

With that, Dean stood up and walked towards the door.

"I SAID I'M SORRY!" John yelled desperately behind him.

"YOU DESERVE THIS, DICKHEAD!," Dean yelled, not caring about the lawyer, not caring about anything actually, but Sam. He had to get out of the room before he would punch John so hard that it would knock him out cold.

Three weeks after

Jessica rubbed her arm. The fading bruises from John's grip still hurt. She wondered if she had ever meet anyone that strong before. She cringed at that thought and what Sam had been through with that monster. Jessica, like any other sane person, or so she believed didn't believe in such things as monsters that hide in closets or whatever, but she did believe in human monsters, and John was one without a doubt. Her mind flashed to when a frail Sam was lying on the couch in Bobby's living room, blood flowing out of the gash on his stomach and with a painful expression on his face that he had, even though she had been sure that he wasn't awake. Maybe he was, it was all so blurry as everything just went so fucking fast. She remembered his shattered voice on the phone when he told her that they wouldn't meet again.

Don't lie to yourself, Jess thought. He broke-up with you.

Jessica sighed deeply. Should I just forget him?

Today was the last day of school before the Christmas break. She had only arrived at school Wednesday for the first time since the horrible incident, and everything was so awkward. Everyone was so cautious around her, and most weren't even speaking to her as they were afraid of triggering something. No one even asked what happened. Ines was keeping her distance. At least all the teachers gave her good marks, which she had sort of liked, even though they'd done it out of pity.

Jessica lay back onto her bed. She couldn't face the Christmas morning going on downstairs. She thought about what Sam was doing this-

No, don't think about him. I'll never see him again so why bother linger in the past? But what if he came back, she thought desperately but then wanted to hit herself because of her stupidity. What were the odds that they would ever meet again?

I should probably just completely give up on Sam, Jessica thought. She thought of the night John spoke to her at the bus stop, the aftermath, and Ines's confession earlier.

She shook her head in self-frustration by remembering the memories.

So much shit has happened to Sam. Why was everyone so ignorant? Jessica thought with a tinge of guilt.

Fucking high school.

She needed to get her mind off all the shit that had happened.

She tried to think about other things: Sam, Sam, Sam, Ines, Sam, Ines...

She considered it. Maybe she did swing both ways…

A/N: I think the next chapter is the last/second-last one (I don't really know, maybe there's more?), but I really don't know how to end it. Again, are there any loose ends? Thanks. :)

Also, I'm really confused where I'm going with this story, so sorry if some parts seem dry or not well thought through. I'll try to do my best and hope that I'll get an epiphany.

I should really have a story plan by now...