A/N Big thanks to everyone who's still reading this here ramble and especially thanks to those who left comments. Really sorry about that evil cliff-hanger - and the longer than usual wait - it wasn't deliberate honest - been away over the weekend and no time last week but I hope this makes up for it ;)

Chapter 7

Lost

Sam awoke gasping for air as the images replayed in his head like a horror movie.

Dean.

It wasn't that long ago when he'd been tortured by a similar vision which had hit him so hard he'd displayed telekinetic abilities. This however was different. His brother with a gun pressed to his neck about to blow his own brains out. This just didn't fit. This wasn't his brother - he knew that Dean in his right mind would never do such a thing but the vision was saying otherwise. Without wasting any more time he pulled on his jeans and shoes and looked for the car keys, his stomach falling when he realised they were gone. Staggering outside he almost sobbed with relief when he saw the Impala still outside and raced over to where he hoped Dean was still breathing and he was just in time to see his big brother, his protector, his hero, his best friend pull the trigger on the gun that he had pressed under his chin.

"DEAN!" it was a scream no doubt about it. Hoarse and desperate and full of terror and anguish and a plea that this just wasn't happening.

And then.

Nothing happened.

Dean opened his eyes blinking and visibly shaking, not sure if he was alive or dead as his little brother opened the car door and dragged him furiously out into the cool night air slamming him up against the door. Their eyes locked as Sam grasped the front of his coat his face a picture of fury.

"You stupid, stupid bastard! What the hell were you thinking?!" shaking and then again shoving Dean hard into the car, he felt tears of anger spring into his eyes as he glared at his brother.

Dean dropped his gun and stared at Sam his eyes empty, saying nothing which seemed to further increase Sam's rage.

"You want to die, Dean? You want to die you fuckin' prick?! Are things really that bad that you want to blow your stupid, fuckin' brains all over the inside of your car?"

Dean blinked and looked downwards causing Sam to shake him again.

"What, you were just gonna let me find you like that huh, Dean? Do you care that little about anything or anyone that you were just gonna let me find you - like that?"

Sam's voice broke half way through his tirade but he didn't care. He didn't care if Dean saw him cry in fact he didn't care if Dean saw him crumble to pieces right there because maybe than he would realise just how important he was to his little brother and how much this was tearing him part.

Sam sniffed shaking his head and let go of his brother's jacket allowing him to sag heavily on to the hard gravel floor, still shaking, tears now streaming from his red rimmed eyes. Panting and exhausted Sam sat on the floor opposite his brother and picked up the gun examining it furious, astounded, shocked and more than a little freaked out but thanking what he could only imagine was someone or something watching over Dean Winchester that night.

Dean wiped his eyes and took in a shaky breath.

"What happened?" it was barely a whisper.

"Well it looks like your gun jammed you asshole! Your fucking gun jammed!" Sam threw the gun across the floor away from them still furious and close to tears and was having trouble fighting the urge to smack the shit out of his older brother.

"Jammed huh?" Dean leaned against the car, his head back and closed his eyes, "Well I guess that's that."

Sam looked on astonished and horrified as his brother pushed himself to his feet and headed off towards the road. Sam followed him incensed and infuriated, yelling so loud it hurt his throat.

"Dean! Dean, what the hell..." Sam caught up with the older Winchester spinning him round and giving him another rough shake.

"What the hell is wrong with you, man? You were just gonna leave me? Bail on me? Blow your brains out, you stupid, selfish son of a..."

"What's your problem Sam? I didn't do it did I? Seems I screwed up yet again."

"You're a stupid, fuckin' asshole Dean," another shake. "How could you do that? How could you do that to me..." he pushed Dean away stopping to swipe at his eyes.

Dean ran a hand across his face, composed himself and then glared at his brother, who was now in tears.

"Why Dean? I mean why would you do that..?"

"Why? You wanna know why? Well how about why not?"

Sam shook his head not understanding.

"All I do is screw things up, Sam. People are dead because of me. People who deserved to live. Tell me, Sam, how come I get to live instead of them?"

Sam took a step towards him, stabbing a finger into his chest, his voice gradually increasing in volume, "You are so way of base here Dean it's not even funny!"

"No, Sam, I'm not. In fact I'm finally starting to get it. I'm a screw up and I'm gonna keep on being a screw up until someone or something puts me out of my misery."

Sam took a breath wiping his eyes again trying to calm himself.

"Ok Dean just stop ok, please just stop and listen to me."

"I'm done listening to you, Sam; and what I can't figure out is why you're still here. I mean I treat you like crap, I mess up your life; drag you all over the country and for what? So I can clock you in the face whenever you say something I don't like?"

Sam shook his head almost laughing. He always knew Dean still beat himself up over that. It wasn't like he'd even hit him that hard, but Dean had felt like shit all the same.

"Dean, you're my brother man..."

"That's my point!" Dean was shouting now.

"What kind of scum bag beats up on his own brother, huh?"

There was a pause as Sam tried for the hundredth time that week to find something to say. But there was nothing. There was so much grief and guilt and pain and nothing could break through it and he was about a second away from falling to his knees and giving up completely.

So it was Dean who was the next to speak.

"Look, Sam - if you know what's good for you you'll do yourself a favour and stay the hell away from me. Your life will be a whole lot better without me around to mess it up."

Dean tuned to walk away and Sam was about to let him when he was filled with one last surge of energy. Catching up with his brother he grabbed his arm and yet again spun him round to face him, yelling with all his strength:

"Yeah well maybe I like having you mess up my life. Maybe I need you around messing up my life. Maybe I like the way you mess up my life- d'you ever think of that, huh?"

Dean shook is head disbelievingly, "You're nuts you know that Sam? And I thought I was bad."

Turning away again he sighed in frustration as his brother came after him again, like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go.

"Dean wait, just wait," Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder in a desperate attempt to stop him, to slow him down, to buy some time.

"Listen; think about it - your gun, yeah? Your gun jammed - I mean that's a sign right? When was the last time your gun jammed, huh, Dean?" he was breathing heavily and he knew he sounded desperate and he was clutching at straws but he was desperate and he was running out of time fast.

Dean shook his head smirking condescendingly. "That crap again. When are you gonna get it that there's no such thing as signs or destiny or any of that bull shit that you believe in that just stops you from seeing the truth."

"How can you say that Dean, after what happened - it can't have been a coincidence- it just can't have."

"Ok you wanna know what I think? Maybe it did happen for a reason. But in the end what it all boils down to is that I don't deserve to die because that would be too easy right? I mean death would be a blessing compared to this but I guess I don't deserve that - I guess I'm just gonna have to live every day knowing what I've done - who knows maybe that's what hell really is."

With his last words Dean's voice broke, nearly breaking Sam's heart with it as he witnessed a tear slide down his big brother's cheek not making it to the floor as he swiped it away angrily.

"It seems someone out there thinks death's too good for me, Sammy; I know you wanna believe that someone's looking out for us but if there is - if there is someone out there - then all they want is to watch me suffer - but I guess that's no more than I deserve right."

He began to walk away again only to be stopped yet again by his relentless little brother who just wouldn't, couldn't give up on him.

"Dean please," grabbing at his brother's jacket he was aware he sounded weak and pathetic and that he was begging pitifully but at this point he really didn't give a damn.

"Don't - don't do this please- don't..." his pleas were rewarded by a hard shove.

"For the last time, Sam, stay away from me!"

The jostle resulted in Sam losing his balance, falling painfully onto the ground, knocking his injured arm causing him to cry out. The sound from his little brother made Dean flinch with guilt and he was about to stop and help him up but his soul felt heavy and was weighing him down and even though he had been spared for a third time he felt no pleasure, no sense of peace and certainly no feeling of angels watching over him. Sam pushed himself into a sitting position getting back his breath before even attempting to get up.

Sam shook his head refusing to believe it was over tears streaming down his face, as he realised that the recent events - rather than coming as a moment of truth to Dean, a moment of clarity, a life changing point in time which would give him the hope and strength to continue - had actually sucked out what was left of his resolve and his spirit.

Dean looked down at him trying to hide how lost he felt, trying to hide his desperation, trying to hide the fact that he wished more than anything that Sam could save him but knowing that he couldn't and for the last time turned away from his little brother and walked away leaving him screaming brokenly after him.

"Dean please, don't do this. Don't do this to me. Please. Don't you leave me. Dean!"

His voice cracked painfully as the tears increased and Sam's heart plummeted as he realised how far his brother had fallen. Rather than see this as a second chance he had only been able to see it as a punishment. A sentence dished out by some higher power in order to make him suffer his guilt, his demons and his mistakes every single day until they destroyed him. Defeated and emotionally demolished Sam watched his brother walk down the road further and further away from him and finally conceded that he couldn't help him, that maybe this time he was beyond help and that it was finally over for them.

They hadn't made it.

The devastated young man got up and staggered over to the Impala leaning heavily against the trunk. The agony he was feeling pressed on him mercilessly and he was unable to hold his own weight and so slowly sank to the floor, heartbroken, decimated and alone, sobbing out his grief for the brother he now believed he had finally lost for good.

TBC

Sorry bit of a depressing one