A/N: Thanx to everyone who reviewed this story! I enjoyed writing it, and re-reading it. It was my favourite. Took a lot out of me I think!! Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!!

Disclaimer: Moving on...

At the hospital, Dean sat on the edge of a bed in the ER. Aedon was working on his wrist. She had already put a small bandage on his throat, shaking her head the entire time.

"I told you to stay here, didn't I?" she had scolded him, but he just rolled his eyes at her motherly words. For the first time in the last twelve hours, he was content and safe. John was lying in the parking lot, a bullet hole to his cranium. Dean was satisfied, and that was all that mattered. When Aedon finished, she cleared her throat.

"Aside from all the bumps and scrapes, you're a rather handsome man. Do you think . . . ?" Dean touched her hand softly, but shook his head. This was the last thing he needed right now. A romance right out of the gate. He thanked her for a job well done and then walked toward the door. He was stopped by the doctor that saved his brother's life.

"Mr. Collier, I have been trying to find you." He was smiling and seemed a little too upbeat to be a doctor. Dean ignored it. "Your brother awoke shortly after you left, and has been asking for you."

Before the doctor could say anymore, Dean rushed out of the room and to the elevator. The doctor yelled back the floor and room number. Dean waved absently, and entered the elevator with revelry. He was overjoyed that Sammy was awake, and kept pressing the buttons, wishing they'd get him there faster. As the door opened to the 5th floor, he ran down the hall to room 510 and threw the door open. Sam lay there, startled by the intrusion, but when he saw who had burst in, he almost cried.

"Dean, what, what happened to you?" His face lit up at the sight of his older brother, and before he could say another word, Dean flung his arms around him. The shock of this brotherly affection sent him reeling. He hugged him as best he could, since only his right arm was useable. Dean pulled back, almost sobbing. The sight of his brother a blubbering mess, sent Sammy over the edge. Tears poured down his torn and pale face. Dean touched Sam's face, almost not believing he was real.

"Oh Sam, I just . . . " He could barely speak, his throat choked with tears. At least this time it was for a good reason, and Sammy was going to be okay. Sam held his brother's hand, the gentleness warming.

"Is this what it takes to bring us close? If it is, we should do it more often." Sam joked, but Dean pulled his hand away. He glared at Sammy, unable to hold back his hurt. Sammy squinted, realizing that was the dumbest thing he could have said right now.

"I'm sorry, I was just . . . "

Dean stood, his back to his baby brother. The pain from hours ago, before all the shit hit the fan, came flooding back. He hated it, hated the fact that they did this to each other. No matter the tragedy, they always seemed to find fault with one another. Dean would close up, and Sam would pick a fight, just to get him to open, to get anything out of him. Then when Dean did say something, it was usually a crack shot, then Sam would be the one to close. It was like a sick game they played, and no one was fucking winning.

"Look Sam," Dean sat beside his brother, but did not look at him. "This son of a bitch did a number on us, scrambled our minds something serious. He played with us like we were rats in a maze. Has been since we were kids."

Sam heard the last part, and swallowed. He grabbed for Dean, and caught onto his shirt. Dean turned back to look at him, and saw fear in his eyes.

"Yeah, he told me he had been watching us when mom died. Followed us ever since. Used me as a total mind game. Knew so much about us, it was as if he . . . as if he was a part of us." This made Dean shudder. He took Sam's hand in his and stroked it gingerly.

"Don't worry though. I took care of him. Just like I promised, I killed the bastard." He stood and swiped a stray hair from his brother's face. "It's getting late. Maybe you should get some real sleep. I'll stay here and keep an eye on ya. 'Kay?" Leaning over the bed, he did something totally unexpected. He kissed Sam on the forehead, then wiped at the tears that had fallen from his eyes.

"Seriously man, what happened to you?" Sam chuckled. Dean stood up and crossed his arms.

"I just realized that there was someone more important in this world than me." He moved to the bed beside Sam and grabbed a pillow, then pulled a chair up to his bed. Placing the pillow under his head, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

A few minutes later, Sam's voice broke through the quiet.

"Hey Dean? Did you ever get my salad?"

Dean opened one eye, then saw a smile form on his brother's face. Lifting the pillow from behind his head, Dean tossed it at Sammy. They both laughed. Dean lay back against the chair, his hand on Sam's arm. They stayed that way until morning.