AN/ Hey! Thank you to the 8 people who reviewed! It means a whole lot to me it really does. I'm sorry it took so long to update. A whirlwind of things started happening all at once so I haven't been able to update. But any ways here you go. There is some vilolence in this chapter I'm sorry. I wasn't planning on it but it just sort of came out. Please review and tell me what you think! And I'm sorry this wasn't as long as I thought it would be. :( Enjoy!
Chapter 2
Then he realized the blood wasn't Deans… it was his. What was going on? He would have remembered if he had cut… no hurt himself wouldn't he? Sam shakily got to his feet and staggered half-hazardly to the motel bathroom in search of a towel. Wrapping it around his arm Sam sunk to the floor. What had just happened? Was his brother really dead? Had he really killed his only sibling?
Sam glared at the towel on his arm spots of read seeping through. What had he done? He let his head back and hit against the wall savoring the throb of pain that he felt. His mind was reeling; he couldn't do anything to find his brother, not with his arm still bleeding as it was. He had to wait for him to hopefully return… if he ever did.
Seconds…minutes…hours… seemed to pass in one consecutive moment for Sam. Nothing seemed real. Everything had a funny haze to it.. He was beginning to accept the fact that he had killed his brother. And that he was going crazy. He pushed himself to his feet and leaned against the wall for a minute as the room spun before his eyes. His arm hurt like mad luckily though it had stopped bleeding. Sam carefully walked out of the bathroom into the main room; both beds were still mostly untouched, neither of the covers had been pulled back. His bed was only ruffled where he had laid earlier. With his left arm clutching his chest to keep from bleeding again his right hand fumbled with the zipper of his back pack to get his first aid kit out. Finally he was able to get it and stagger back to the bathroom. This time closing the door behind him. Just in case Dean did walk in, if he was ever coming back, he didn't want it to look like he was doing this on purpose…
Carefully Sam unrolled the towel that was holding his pulsing arm and let it fall to the floor as he turned on the water and getting another towel wet and slowly tried to get the most of the dried blood away from the cut. The youngest Winchester sucked in a painful breath as the whipped the majority of the blood from on top the cut. He savored it though for a moment before putting the towel down and getting out some antibiotic and cleaning his left arm hissing in pain again as it burned and stung as the medicine did its job of cleaning out his cut. Then he slowly wrapped his arm in gauze. That would have to do for now. Maybe in the morning he would feel better and be able to do more. But with the room spinning as it was. He couldn't do anything more except stagger out to his bed and fall ungracefully on it dead asleep in seconds.
Sleep didn't last long for Sam though, it seemed like only second had passed before a very drunk and very angry Dean came though the front door, an angry and crazed look in his eyes. He closed and locked the door, then moved the table in front of the door. Sam wouldn't be getting out any time soon. Then Dean took off his leather jacked and tucked it safely in his bag before staggering over to this sleeping baby brother He paused for a moment looking down at him. Thinking how peaceful he looked. He didn't take into consideration why there was a bandage covering his arm. He did however notice that Sam was asleep, unprotected to what Dean was going to do.
With out another wasted second grabbed the back of Sam's t-shirt and threw him across the room. Hitting the wall with a thump and a groan Sam was shocked awake. He sat up painfully slow. Shaking his head. Trying to understand what was happening. Was a demon attacking? He didn't have a chance to realize what was happening before a foot shot out and slammed him back into the wall. His breath caught in his throat as his lungs tried to gasp air in that wouldn't come. He coughed and sputtered before he was able to give his deprived lungs the air they craved.
Sam looked up at his brother; a relief shot though him at the sight of his brother, but left him as Dean bent down ad shoved him hard against the wall his face merely inches away from Sam's. His breath reeked of alcohol his eyes blood shot. "Come on little brother. Be a big man and fight! You did a few hours ago, fight me!" Dean slurred out shaking Sam hard before shoving him away from himself, sending Sam sprawling to the floor. The younger man didn't have time to react against his brother as Dean started to kick him.
"Dean stop!" Sam cried out as Dean kicked harder.
"Dean stop!" Dean mocked as he kept kicking his baby brother. "Come on Sammy. Be a fucking man. You can do it. Get up, fight for yourself you fucking bitch." Dean grabbed Sam and hauled him to his feet. Sam staggered his nose bleeding; his stomach on fire, his back felt as if someone had thrown him off a cliff onto rocks bellow.
Dean ignored his brother's pleas and smacked him across the face, again and again. Sam didn't even know when he stopped, he felt himself fall to the ground. His head was ringing, yet he heard every word Dean said. "It's your fault they died you freak. You fucking freak. You killed them. Who else is gonna die Sammy? Huh?" Dean slammed his foot into Sam's side. "Me?" Dean yelled forcing Sam to look at him. "Are you going to kill me next?"
Sam couldn't respond his body was on fire he could feel the blood coming from his arm. His eyes were half open his mind in shock of what was happening. He tried to stay conscious to know what was coming. His hopes were killed as his body fell into the darkness that started to surround him. Leaving his body unprotected from his drunken brothers wrath.
Dean slid to the ground next to where his unconscious brother lay. His chest heaving as he tried to regain his breath from all the movement had caused him. He sighted. Sam would get up later he didn't give a fuck right now. He was just tired and wanted to go to sleep. His chest was killing him and all he wanted now was to sleep. Dean brushed his hand through his hair as he climbed into his bed. The lights were already off so he had no problem forgetting that he was in a cheap motel room, he had just beaten his brother to unconsciousness, and that he wouldn't remember any of this in the morning.