Here it is. The final chapter. Nothing, but the mistakes are mine.

Enjoy.

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"De..n."

Sam was like a deer caught in the headlights. He stood in the centre of the room, his big green eyes looking at Dean, tears shining in the corners, keeping them from spilling with his will, which was slowly but surely fading.

"Sam?" the panic in his voice could be cut with a knife.

Dean saw Sam shivering, standing there, his hands like he was hugging the cold nightly air that came in the room when he opened the door.

"Sam wha…what's wrong?"

"Dean?"

Dean heard a plea somewhere in there. A desire to make it all better. He didn't know what happened, he didn't know what his brother was asking him to fix. And that not knowing drove him to close the door and step closer to his brother. Almost running and knocking Sam on the floor. The look on Sam's face. A mix of fear, loneliness, shock, need, help. He grabbed Sam by his forearm and squeezed.

Nothing. Sam was still staring at him, lost.

He shook lightly trying to get Sam back to him.

The silver moonlight shining right on Sam's face gave him away. That far away look, the teary eyes, slightly opened mouth, breathing hard like he ran miles to no end.

"Sam, hey. Hey. What happened?" he needed to get Sam back. Now!

"Dean."

If that was all Sam could give him right now, he would take it. At least he knows my name. That has to count for something.

"Sam. Hey come on, talk to me, man." he was afraid to raise his voice so he kept it to a slight whisper.

"Dean."

Sam's eyes were everywhere but on Dean. They were lost in the room. Darting from the door to the window, from the table to the chairs, when he rolled them to the ceiling, Dean thought Sam was about to pass out, but they went back to the door. So Dean shook harder, squeezed tighter, dig his fingers in Sam's arms and Sam groaned.

"Dean." a name spoken and Dean knew he had Sam back with him when his eyes landed on his.

"Well glad to have you back. Sam, what happened?"

Dean could feel Sam trembling beneath his touch. He held him, fingers digging into his flesh, but Sam didn't notice. He didn't even flinch.

"She was here."

"What? Who?"

"J…Jess."

Only Sam moving his mouth clued Dean that Sam said something. Something that got lost somewhere in the space between them.

"Who Sam?" all seriousness now, and a raised eyebrow.

"Jess. She…she was here."

Salt'n'burn was the first thought that came to Dean's mind.

And that took Dean's breath right out of him. He felt his chest tighten, heart skip a beat, blood stopped running, brain scouting for a reply to that. The words knocked him almost to the floor, but he held onto Sam to tight to actually fall down.

"Sam."

"We danced…"

"Sam."

"…like always…"

"Sam."

All Dean could do was utter Sam's name. He was still lost for words, but his brain came up with a plan. Say Sam's name, soothe, bring him back, give him time to talk, no pressure.

"Dean, she was here. I…"

"Sam, hey."

"We kissed, she…"

"Sammy."

"…'s gone now."

"I know, Sammy. I know."

"She said she loves me.

"She does, Sam."

"I…"

"Sammy, hey, hey. It'll be alright. O.K.? Amm, let's just sit down, yeah?" Dean could feel Sam slipping from his grasp, no matter how hard he tried to hold onto him, he was slipping to the floor.

"Just…no, no, not the floor. Here, sit down."

Sam felt a slight pressure and a pull on his arms and that was all he needed to know to help him sit down. Dean right beside him, making Sam fall into the bent in the mattress. Shoulders touching, knees touching, close. Comforting.

They both stared at the little table in front of them. Laptop, keys, Sam's jacket on one of the four chairs surrounding it, leftovers from lunch, a few books. A little kitchen on their left, main door on their right, walls illuminated by the moon, no other light necessary for them to see around the room. The window in front of them, blue curtains, tree branches hitting the glass, a car passed by and shone his headlights in their eyes, making them blink.

Dean kept his hands on his tights, playing with the holes in his jeans, fidgeting with the loose strings, twirling them around his finger. His eyes fixed on the window. He didn't dare to look at Sam. Afraid at what he might find. His baby brother, broken. Their mother dead, his love dead, their father God knows where, his friends…what friends? Just Dean. He only had Dean to make it all better. And he would make it all better. Sam doesn't deserve all of this. Never did.

"She was so beautiful."

Startled with Sam's voice, Dean took a deep breath.

"Yeah, she was."

"She died you know?" serious and so sad it tore Dean apart. Shit Sammy.

Dread was making its way up Dean's spine, twirling a little in his stomach and landing in his brain.

"Sam I know." It was hard to swallow his tears right now. Tears he didn't know for who they'll fall. For Sam and him loosing it, or for him feeling helpless?

Dean dared a look at Sam. Mouth slightly opened, his gaze glued on the window, eyes bright, tears in their corners, shining in the moonlight, threatening to fall but not quite yet.

"So, she shouldn't be here? Now?

A breath of relief came from Dean's mouth. A breath he felt all along burning his lungs. Sam's not lost, yet.

"No, Sammy."

"Then why?"

"I don't know." the truth.

God, Sammy I leave you alone for five minutes and everything goes down the drain.

Sam stood up with such ferocity it threw Dean out of momentum of just sitting. His head snapped to Sam's form standing there, his left hand going through his hair, his right one griping his hip.

"She was here, Dean. Here." a shaky words spoken and Dean stood to his full length trying once again to bring Sam back. Sam was angry, and it made Dean flinch. Anger was never good. Not with Sam.

"I know Sam." lightly, trying to pry Sam from the anger.

"She's dead, Dean. How could she be here? I mean I saw her in the afternoon…"

"You what?" was it anger or confusion, Dean didn't know. Didn't care. Why hasn't Sam mentioned that before?

"I saw her in the street."

"And you forgot to mention that?" maybe he should be pissed off, but not right now. Save that for later.

"I…"

"Yeah, keeping things to yourself. Got it." just sadness, that Sam thought he couldn't trust him.

"Dean, just don't." Please.

"Don't what?" a slightly bent head to his left and a look at Sam, standing there, lost. And Dean understood what Sam wanted. Don't get mad.

Well Sammy boy, it's a two way road. I don't get mad, you don't get mad.

"It's O.K. Sam."

"No, no it's not." a shake of his head made Dean think it would roll off.

"It's alright."

"She was here, Dean. God…"

Dean thought Sam would rip his hair out, with the force the kid was running his hand through.

He saw Sam loosing it. Breaking right in front of him.

"Sammy."

"I miss her, man." all anger faded into sheer helplessness.

Dean took careful, slow steps, unsure of his feet collaborating with his need to get to his brother. He really didn't want to scoop up the puddle of panic and need his brother was dissolving into.

And Sam was just standing there, barefoot on the stained carpet, illuminated with another headlight of a passing car. Slipping, breaking, loosing everything.

"Hey, Sammy. It's O.K., it'll be O.K." it was like talking to a child convincing him that needles don't hurt…that bad.

He reached a hand towards the slouched form of his brother, shoulders down, defeated, only to be thrown into terror when Sam pulled away, almost knocking a chair in his path.

"She's dead."

"Sam I know." I was there.

A step closer.

"She said she loves me."

A step back.

"Sam, she did. Always will."

A step closer.

"I miss her, man."

A step back.

"Sammy I know."

A step closer and Sam was cornered. Nowhere to go but down. Down on the floor, disintegrating into a heap of slouched figure, little and scared.

Dean stood mere inches from Sam when he slowly and quietly slid down the wall to the floor. But to Dean it felt like miles, because he couldn't prevent his downfall.

The only sound heard in the room was Sam's rapid breathing, trying not to hyperventilate and the sound his T-shit made on the impact with the wall. He could fell the cold of the wall throbbing in his back almost painfully. In his mind it was just considered as a distraction from his shattering heart. He drew his legs to his chest, trying to pretend he's just a small invisible form, unmoving in the corner. Part of the furniture.

Resting his elbows on his knees and putting his head in his hands, he wished he could, by some weird notion, feel Jess's hands on him again.

But all he got was a rustling sound near his left ear, no whispers, no words, just a sensation of someone near. Close enough to feel the warmth and the smell of aftershave.

A strange sensation started to mix with all the others. He couldn't quite distinguish it but it had a slight taste of embarrassment even shame maybe.

He needed to hide, go away, run away from his brother, not shatter right in front of him. Suck it up, Sam.

"Sammy, hey." he tried to muster all the calm and love and relax Sam, into those two words. Anything more would betray his shaky composure. Sam was delicate in this state well, in any kind of state.

Sam tensed. Every single one of his muscles crawled into themselves, to an almost painful tightness.

And a hand sneaking on the back of his neck was all he needed to fall to pieces. His head, heart, world splintered in two and then four and so on until there were only tiny bits left.

They made their way into Dean's skin, like glass cutting his skin each time Sam made a quick intake of air. Slowly sobbing into his hands. Tears cascading down his hands, between his fingers, washing away the feeling of Jess.

The warm hand made her way to his shoulder and a small pressure made him follow it. He landed on a hard, warm place. The beat of his heart in his ears was replaced with the steady beat of Dean's. He folded his arms near Dean's stomach, drew them closer, trying to curl into a ball in Dean's arms.

Dean drew up his legs trying to hide Sam's head from the quiet gaze of the room. He put the other hand around the side of Sam's head, preventing him from falling down.

Sam could feel the watch Dean always wears pressing to his ear. He could hear the clock ticking, counting down seconds that turned into minutes.

The hand let go of his shoulder and he felt his shirt being pulled down to the waistband of his sweatpants, the painful cold of the wall gone. Replaced with the warmth and closeness.

Nothing to distract his mind now, but the steady thumpthumpthumpof Dean's heartbeat and relaxing up and down motion of Dean's chest. Breathing beneath him.

Dean could fell Sam tensing, holding back when he pushed him toward himself. And after a few seconds when he felt Sam relax, he left out a breath unaware he was holding.

Sam's right hand found Dean's necklace, fisting the amulet in his hand, the horns digging themselves into his skin…he just found another pain to distract his thoughts and keep him from spilling over the edge.

Dean looked in front of him, seeing the table shining in the light, another car highlighting the room, Sam's mop of restless hair and the feeling of slight tremors shaking his brother.

"Sammy," a croaked sound, made somewhere deep in the pits of his stomach, "'s alright".

His name penetrated into his awareness, skipping beats down his ear, and settled in the warmth of his brain.

And that was the last drop of water into the bucket. It all came spilling down in a form of convulsive catching of his breath and water spilling over the too tight dam in his eyes.

The cry Sam let out, caught Dean unprepared and he thought for just a split second that he's hurting Sam in some way. It was a cry an animal makes when it's killed. Dean was sure everyone heard it and was just waiting for a knock on the door.

One fisted hand smacked into his chest. Hard and unforgivably painful. Lunch made appearance in his mouth, but he swallowed it down and tightened his grip with a pinch of fear that he would squish Sam's ear. Sam rotated his head into his chest, hid himself into his warmth, resting his arms against Dean's stomach again.

Dean could feel his shirt getting wet, and he didn't care…he couldn't back away now. The cold of Sam's tears and the warmth of Sam's breath made him shiver slightly.

"'S O.K."

Sam tried to take in air, deep bone breaking gulps of it, but through the sobs it was just too difficult.

"God, Sammy, don't forget to breathe. Don't hold it in." maybe that was a little too harsh, but Sam was near choking.

Sam tried, he really did, the sobs breaking him, lungs burning, and a hand going up and down his arm. Different from Jess's, rough, hard, familiar. He hid his face deeper into Dean's chest, the amulet still clutched in his hand; he was sure he draw some blood there. He didn't know what he was trying to do. Hide for one, crawl into Dean, just so the world would leave him alone. He felt like he was breathing under water. Trying to draw in air, where that's not possible. Lungs screaming, tears burning, face wet, Dean's heart pounding, bringing him back to the surface. One steady breath to fill the screaming lungs.

He drew in Dean's aftershave, deodorant, gun powder, coffee, washing detergent, sweat…all Dean. So different from the way Jess smelled. She was all flowers and soap. Coffee sometimes.

"That's it. Just…It's O.K."

Sam felt like a fish out of the water being put back in.

Silence. Everything fell silent. Sam's cries subsided to mere tears slowly making their way down his cheeks and into Dean's shirt.

"It'll fade, Sammy."

"No it won't."

Sam put his thumb in his mouth, like a child would do, and barely spoke those words. Tears were mixing with his saliva and his nose was leaking and all that was being pooled in his mouth. He wanted to spit it out, but he just swallowed it. He needed a new taste in his mouth, not Jess anymore.

"Trust me Sammy, it will."

And another cry shook Sam's body. Dean had to clutch Sam tighter to himself or else he would loose him. He was afraid Sam would liquefy right there in his arms.

Sam knew it would though. Fade. Dean told him it would.

Everything fell silent again. Sam only heard Dean's heartbeat, and Dean only heard Sam's hitched breathing.

"It hu…," a quick breath, "…rts." he squeezed the amulet harder, definitely drawing blood. He maneuvered his hand so he was clutching Dean's shirt too. To stop the bleeding. There was something comforting in that pain, he couldn't quite put a finger on it. It was a strange comforting pain splashed with warmth.

"I know Sammy, believe me I know." he laid his head on Sam's head, the mop of hair under his chin. They were silky, and they smelled flowery. Jess.

"I'll never," a quick intake of air, "see her again."

Dean wanted to ask how sure Sam was of that, and he had to pull all the strength he had not to.

"She's," two shuddering breaths, "gone now."

"Yeah?" Are you sure, Sammy?

A few nods Sam made were quick and tickled Dean's chest.

This felt all too familiar, holding Sam like this. A small child in his arms.

Little dots were dancing on the inside of his eyelids, face pressed to Dean's chest, relaxing now.

"S' good, Sammy."

Again with the numbing silence. The refrigerator made a weird sound, like something was dying in there.

Dean's back was killing him, the previous cold now turned into a scorching heat. He could feel Sam drifting in and out, occasionally shaking from intakes of air.

"Come on Sammy. I brought you your Coke."

"Yeah." it was muffled by Dean's shirt.

"Come on let's get you to bed."

"Yeah."

Dean let go of his shoulder and tried to get up. Sam's head was still on his chest, a small pressure of wetness and heat. His restless hair made their way through his shirt and were piercing his chest going straight to his heart. He didn't know how much of this he could take. That one tear that slide down his cheek when Sam screamed and punched him, was all he could afford right now.

"Come on Sammy. Let's just…get you to bed, O.K.?"

"Yeah."

But that 'yeah', gave no indication that Sam would move.

Dean put his hand back to Sam's shoulder and dug his fingers in a little too hard, he knew he would leave bruises.

"Sam come on. Let's get you to bed, give you some water, God knows you lost a lot of it, and get you to sleep. Alright?"

"Please, just don't…"

"Don't what Sam?" tidal waves of worry widened Dean's eyes.

He shook Sam, when he didn't get his answer.

"Sam?"

"Yeah, sleep sounds good."

"Sam? Don't what?" what the hell, Sam.

But Sam just tightened his hold on his shirt, probably ripping it apart.

Sam was beyond embarrassed, beyond fear, he fell in the pits of need and desperation. He needed Dean to make everything better. This little crying game…it didn't change anything. Jess and Mom were still dead, Dad God knows where…and Dean here. Holding him. And for the tiniest moment, one tick of the clock, everything was alright.

Dean pushed Sam closer to his chest, any closer and he would be in Dean, squeezed his shoulder and tried to push Sam up.

"Up we go, Sammy. Come on."

Dean hauled Sam towards his bed. Sitting down, Sam felt lightheaded, the mattress sucked him in and he vaguely felt his legs being lifted and a hand on his chest pushed him down on the bed. His head collided with the too soft pillow, and he sighed.

There sill wasn't enough air coming in his lungs and he greedily swallowed every bit he could. A glass of water was pressed into his hand and he just didn't know what to do with it. And suddenly it was taken from him and the edge of it was pressed to his lips, the cold liquid brushed his lips and he remembered Jess's lips on his own. He didn't want to open his mouth.

"Sam, come on, just one sip. It'll make you feel better."

A voice somewhere in the distance, and his eyes barely located the origin of it.

Dean.

He realized it was just water and he opened his mouth to take a sip. He closed his eyes and that brought a new pain when his sensitive eyelids pressed together. He opened them quickly and met Dean's eyes digging holes in his soul.

The coolness of the water going down his sore throat brought his attention back. He reached for the glass and connected with Dean's hand.

"I really don't think you're ready to hold a glass, Sammy."

Dean put the glass on the nightstand and sat on the edge of his bed.

God I just went out to get dinner.

He stared at Sam laying there, sprawled on the bed, eyes wide open, red and puffy, gaze fixed on the ceiling, chest rising up and down, slow at first then came a hitch and Sam struggling for breath, right hand on his stomach, left one resting beside him, cheeks flushed. One tear slid down his temple, only to get lost in the pillow.

Silence again. Dean didn't know what to say, and Sam just didn't have the strength.

"Sam, don't what?" he lasted this long and he really, really needed to hear Sam's voice right now.

Again the silence ripping his skin apart. He almost thought he heard the wheels in Sam's head turning.

Sam averted his small puffy eyes in Dean's direction.

Dean wanted to call him a crying baby and a pansy and never let him forget this little crying experience, when he saw those eyes begging him to just stay.

"Leave."

Sam quickly turned to his left side, away from Dean and closed his eyes, never mind the pain. A few breaths latter and he fell asleep.

Dean brought his hand to his mouth and stared at Sam's back, slowly rising.

"I won't Sammy."

How can one single word hurt so much?!

Sam clutched the pillow tighter in his hand, missing the feel of the amulet, but the pillow will do just fine. One tiny smile crept to his face, just a twitch of his lips.

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Hope you liked it. I was just in a mood for a breakdown.