Here's the final chapter! Thank you so much for all the people who came with suggestions, they've been great and helpful!

It was two hours later when Sam returned home. Dean tried to hide the worry from his voice when he was about to address his little brother who had scared the shit out of him.

It's not like I've been waiting on the couch this whole time, waiting for him to come home, Dean thought.

"Hey," Sam was the first to speak.

"Where have you been?" Dean asked, in a successful casual way.

"For a walk," Sam answered with a shrug.

"Okay," Dean said, although he wasn't satisfied with Sam's answer. It reminded him of before the Wendigo hunt and all the other countless times, Sam had replied with a short sentence or word. "Fine," was the worst. He coughed, and tried to loosen the tension. "So, where did you go?"

"Wandering," Sam answered and made way for the stairs.

"Sam."

"Yeah," Sam asked. Dean hadn't thought that it would go this far in their conversation and didn't know what to say.

"Talk to me, how's life?" Dean asked awkwardly, like one of those teachers who really wants to be friends with their students.

"Um, fine."

Damn it, Dean thought, "fine."

"We do talk a lot, Dean," Sam said and went towards the couch so that he could nestle in a blanket and watch some TV.

"Yeah, we do," Dean said, taking a seat beside his brother on the couch.

"Dean, you're being weird," Sam said, and moved a little away from his brother who was invading his personal space.

"Oh sorry," Dean apologized quickly when he noticed, and bit his lip as a tinge of guilt swept in.

"Don't apologize, Dean," Sam said. You didn't used to, he thought and he wished things would go back to normal, whatever normal was. Everything had changed over the last month. For one, their dad was out of the picture. Better than normal would be nice.

"Oh sorry…" Dean said, wincing at the repetition.

"Don't feel guilty either," Sam mumbled.

"What?" Dean asked, somewhat incredulously which annoyed Sam.

"Dean, I'm depressed not stupid," Sam deadpanned.

Dean shifted in his seat. He knew how fucked up things inside Sam's head were, how depressed he was, but it was like his brain never wanted to truly, fully admit it. Not until the words came out of Sam's mouth.

"Dean, you can't blame yourself. The fact that you can even turn this shit into some twisted self-blame thing, would amaze me if it wasn't so typically you," Sam said.

"Yeah, it's something I do a lot, isn't it? I suppose it's the easiest thing to do," Dean admitted, keeping his eyes on his hands. For some reason, it felt a little better getting that small admittance off his chest. Too bad that it was only the start.

He felt like he was drowning in guilt. Like Sam's depression was contagious and he had caught a bit of it.

"You're handling it so well, you know. The depres..." Dean said.

"It's not like I'm a goddamn poster child for depression," Sam argued.

"Hey, I would have melted down long ago," Dean said, keeping his voice stern, clear and comforting. Just like the big brother always did when he was trying to prove a point.

Sure, Sam bit back. He smiled at his brother.

"Dean, how did you twist this and make yourself feel guilty?" Sam asked curiously.

"I just… You know, I should have noticed," Dean said, his eyes becoming teary as he spoke.

"How? John," - and there came the voice break followed by a cough - "is the master of concealing the truth. How on earth could you have noticed what he was doing. I mean, you looked up to him, surely nothing could be wrong with the guy you looked up to," Sam said.

"Trust me Sam, I far from look up to him," Dean said, shaking his head while doing so. How he resented John. That was a phrase he could yell out anytime, anywhere, and still mean every single syllable.

"Seriously Dean, you're beyond stupid for putting this on yourself," Sam continued.

"But Sam, I sort of had suspicion that he was..." Dean trailed off but it caught Sam's attention.

"You knew?" He asked.

"Not really, I just knew something was wrong and John said not to make assumptions, but I sorta did I guess."

Sam looked at his brother for a while and for once, Dean couldn't quite read his face expression.

Is he hurt? Doesn't he care that his brother is a prick? Dean thought until Sam spoke.

"You could've just stood up to dad," he whispered. He knew that he should be comforting, but he needed to know if Dean knew.

"I know, I'm so so sorry," Dean beat himself up, again. Sam sighed.

"Dean, I get it, he was your dad. There's absolutely nothing to blame you for. I forgive you."

"He's was your dad too," Dean argued. Sam huffed.

"Didn't act much like one," Sam said. Dean nodded in agreement. A small amount of time passed before Sam spoke up again.

"He seriously fucked us up," he said, shaking his head. The small laugh came, was just to prove the ridiculousness of the situation. Dean imitated him perfectly.

"Thank you," Sam said at last, when the small chuckles died out.

"For what?"

"For saving me," Sam said, awkwardly rubbing his arm. "For, like, everything." Dean smiled.

"You're welcome," he said and scooted closer to Sam who didn't mind Dean taking up his personal space anymore. It felt comforting having his brother sit right beside him, it felt like nothing would hurt him. Not even himself.

Bobby, who had silently entered the room a little while earlier, couldn't help but smile when his heart warmed up at the sight of Sam and Dean sitting so close next to each other and talking things out.

January the 10th

I miss her, Sam said mutely to himself. He was sitting at the kitchen table and wasn't really staring at anything, a thing he did a lot, a thing that Dean didn't like. Dean didn't like his brother being silent with his own thoughts. The elder brother knew how dark those thoughts could be, how hurtful and occasionally extremely fucked-up.

"Sam," Dean voiced while filling a glass of water. Sam looked at him.

"What?"

"Forgive yourself, too," Dean said, hating himself for creating "a moment".

I can't, I'm a monster, Sam thought, but smiled at Dean. He knew that he had to change and he did try. He tried for Dean, for Bobby, for Jess and most importantly, he tried for himself.

"Dean, do you think I use Bobby's phone?" Sam said in a small voice. Dean was about to roll his eyes at the kid's question, but remembered why he asked.

"Duh," he ended up saying. "The upstairs one is more private."

"Yeah Dean, I know. I live here too," Sam grinned, lightening the mood which he had noticed had damped. He knew Dean blamed himself and he hated it. And then he hated himself for letting Dean hate himself. It was this hate cycle that they both hated.

That's why Sam went straight for a hug.

The brothers' wide flannel frames were soon embracing one another in a brotherly hug.

"I love you," Sam whispered.

"I know," Dean answered, making Sam snort. Before they let go of each other, Dean added a serious answer. "I love you too."

SPN-SPN-SPN

Jessica was over Sam. Well, nearly. Or, well, she wanted to and almost was. As she lay on her bed, entwining her legs with Ines's, she noticed that she was happy. This wasn't what she thought it was going to be. She thought that Ines was going to be a reckless fling, but no. She was nice and funny and always knew the right thing to say.

Still, butterflies filled her stomach when she answered the phone and heard Sam's voice.

"Sam," she breathed with a smile.

"Hey," Sam answered, fiddling with the phone cord at his end. "I just uh…" Why did I call? "How are you?"

Jessica snorted.

"Good. Really good," she said, looking over to her bedroom where Ines lay. "You?" Jessica asked. Sam was honest.

"Way better," he said. "I know it's a dick move to call, but I just wanted to ask how you were and-"

"No, it's great that you're calling. Really, I'm really happy you did," Jessica said, her cheeks hurting due to her broad smile.

"I don't really know why I called, I guess it was just to say that everything is good now over here," Sam said. It was true, and that was all Jessica needed to know. Jessica already knew about his father, but she didn't need to know about the self-inflicted scars or the night he gave up.

"That's really nice, Sam. I'm really happy for you," Jess said.

"I wish we could have been together longer," Sam said at last. Jessica laughed a little.

"I wish I had the guts to talk to you the first day of school," Jessica couldn't help to say. She peered into her bedroom, but Ines was asleep and couldn't hear her. "I really miss you," Jessica admitted.

"I miss you too, but this is for the best," Sam said. "I mean, how are we supposed to be together if you live over there and I move around often."

"True, gee you always were so smart, Sam," Jessica giggled, making Sam laugh.

"I guess I have to go now," Sam said, unsure of what else to say. He knew, and she knew too, that if they talked more they wouldn't be able to let go. Let go and move on.

"Okay, me too," Jessica said in that perfect sweet tone that lingered in Sam's ears long after they hung up.

"Hopefully we'll meet again," Sam laughed. He knew, again, how far-fetched that was.

"Yes, maybe," Jessica answered with equal hope. She sighed. "Well in case we don't, have a great well-deserved life, Sam Winchester."

"You too, Jessica Moore," Sam responded, and with a trembling hand, hang up.

Downstairs, Bobby had come home and him and Dean were discussing some TV-show loudly.

Sam grinned. Things were good.

From far away, Jessica smiled too. She looked at her girlfriend. She could finally come over Sam and all was well.

A month after

Sam shut his eyes as he vaguely remembered flashes of pain in his stomach and acid running through his throat. He could hear Dean's faint voice calling his name, crying. He remembered the song on the radio and the lights going out. Although they didn't. The lights were still on and as bright as ever. He hadn't killed himself. He had escaped the lifestyle with his father. Dean and him still had a long way to go, but Sam was sure that when it was over, they would be closer than ever. That wouldn't be hard though as Sam had isolated himself from the world before. He remembered those times at diners and in the car, when he wouldn't say a word other than when John or Dean spoke directly to him. At school, he hadn't really spoken to anyone either. The person he had spoken to the most was probably, and hopefully, over him. But god, wouldn't it be nice if she met him again in the future? Sam knew that that wish was incredibly unlikely, but couldn't help it. He couldn't help the horrible memories of his father either. At least he had a new majorly improved father who actually cared for him and loved Dean equally. Dean. There was another good thing. Thinking back to that night with the radio and the pills that seemed to be the only escape, he couldn't have been happier that Dean had stopped him.

Of course, things weren't perfect. Things could never be perfect. He was a Winchester. Things would still cause Sam's memories to trigger and Dean would never truly forgive himself.

Even with all the shit Sam had been through, he was happy. He had Dean.

And to that you could say that every cloud has a silver lining.

A/N: Wow. It's done. Thank you so much to everyone who's read it and has reached the end! You guys have been great!

Thank you so much to everyone who has left a review and made my day by doing so. :)

I have an idea for a sequel, so let me know if you're interested!

Again, thank you so much to everyone! :D