Sorry it took a bit but IT'S UP! If you knew how much effort this was to write...

Also, THIS ISN'T THE LAST CHAPTER!

ENJOY!

Sorrow

Sam stared out into the twilight through the car window, waiting for his cell to pick up. It had been twenty minutes since Sam had woken up and he was having no luck trying to find someone to tow the Impala, not at this time anyway. He could see Dean lying back on the dry grass with a bottle in hand, sipping silently in the half-light. He smiled sadly; the way the moon bleached Dean's skin and hair milky white made him looked like some maverick angel; fierce, beautiful and more righteous than the real angels he'd met.

He frowned, the call going to voicemail; this was going be a hell of a long night. Sighing, he put the phone down, ignoring the messages from Ruby and got out of the car, grabbing a couple of beers and heading over to Dean, even if he wouldn't talk.

"Looks like we're here for the night," Sam began, stretching out next to Dean on the ground and handing him a second beer, hoping he would say something after his feeble attempt at starting afresh, "There's nothing round here; no one's available until the morning."

Sam glanced across at his brother, unsure what to do as Dean continued to watch the night sky, seeming to ignore him. Sam cringed, this wasn't getting anywhere; maybe it was best just to go back to the Impala.

"What were you dreaming about?" Dean suddenly asked, still looking upwards.

"What?" Sam replied, confused, how did he know about that?

"Before I woke you up, you were talking in your sleep... you said something like: 'I can explain' and 'It's me Dean, it's Sammy. You're little brother,'" Dean at last glimpsed up at Sam, a knowing expression in his eyes: Sam was aghast, when had started doing that? He thought Dean was one who sleep talked... Sam looked down; he remembered the dreams but he desperately didn't want Dean to know that he'd seen himself as a demon; he couldn't stand seeing anymore shame in his brother's eyes. Biting his lip he realised there could be no more lies, even if it simply made it all worse, making Dean hate him even more.

Sam sighed and looked away, directing his gaze towards the silhouette of the Impala; "There were a few dreams, but there was a main one," he paused, "I was about to leave for college again, when you and Dad wouldn't talk to me; remember?" Sam began, turning back to Dean and smiling uncertainly; giving him a last look - doubting he'd be able to look him in the eye again when this was all over. Dean nodded slowly, his half-hearted smile making Sam's chest tight; God he'd give so much not to have to do this!

"Well..." he looked away, "it was just how it was, but then you started threatening me and pushing me and you had a knife." Dean looked suddenly sickened, "no, no! Wait, there's more," Sam added hastily; "basically, I saw my reflection and... and I had yellow eyes Dean." Sam stared down at his hands, disgust and shame stifling any extra words in his throat; his heart aching.

"I'm turning into a demon," he managed to choke out bitterly, loathing himself and the impossibility of the whole situation. If Sam could just give it up and be normal he would but keeping Dean safe, even if he hated him, was his priority. His stomach lurched; God, if that wasn't so damn painful...

"No you're not," Dean replied resignedly, "you're not even close. You care so much, Sammy, about everyone, but you're stuck and making the hardest decisions of your life in the worst damn situation you could've been given." Sam looked up; Dean hadn't said this much since... since he was under the siren's spell. And, it didn't make any sense; Dean hated him, why wasn't Dean blaming him?

He spoke again, "If anyone's a demon, it's me Sammy, the things I did, the things I saw... there aren't words–"

Sam erupted; when would Dean forgive himself? "And that's not your fault! Anyone else would have done it, they would have given in straight away but you held out, Dean! Don't you see? You went to hell for me, and I practically danced on your grave! Also, you're right, I'm not the Sam you used to know because I've screwed you over so many times more than any proper brother really would!" He jumped up and threw his beer bottle furiously into the darkness; the sharp smash of glass echoing into the silence.

"So you lied a couple of times, big deal! All I'm thinking about is me while you're trying to stop the end of the world. You're trying to fix things and I'm just being weak." Dean ended bluntly, glaring at the ground.

"Oh yeah, that's why an angel is threatening to stop me while one bothered to actually pull you out of hell." Sam replied sarcastically. He turned away, exasperated to the point of madness, what was Dean even up to? "I don't get it Dean, I thought you hated me? It hurt to say that out loud, "You should hate me, but that's beside the po–"

"Sammy." Dean cut him off, picking himself up from the grass. He stared Sam fiercely in the eye, "I don't hate you."

"Then why do you still believe that I think you're weak?" Sam cried angrily, searching his brother's face. This was ridiculous, how could he have done this to Dean; cut him down when he was the strongest man he knew?

"Because you're my little brother and I can't hate you, Sam; whatever I believe. As much as I want to; as much as I'm trying to push you away, I can't lose you, not again." Tears filled Dean's eyes and Sam could see his jaw clench tightly. Sam's eyes stung; seeing Dean's pain tormented him, how could he get his brother to see that he loved him and there was nothing, not one bit of truth in what he'd said? He was so angry, so hurt; and after all his lies, was there even a way?

"Dean," he said, feeling a cool teardrop trickle down his cheek, "I know I don't deserve this, but please, I need you to trust me, to understand; if just this once. I didn't mean any of it Dean; you've got to believe me." Sam begged, Dean's face twisting with grief.

"Oh Sammy, I want to but–" He sobbed once, and Sam's heart fluttered horribly in his chest, "I don't know how to trust you. And you and Ruby–"

"There is no, 'me and Ruby'" Sam shouted.

Dean smiled through his tears, "you love her Sammy,"

"She's a demon, Dean!" Sam yelled back incredulously, "Of course I don't! Why won't you get it? I fucking love you and I need you. Trust me!–"

"How?!" Dean yelled, grabbing Sam by the shirt and jerking him forwards.

Sam closed his eyes, silenced for a second. He could feel Dean's hands on his chest and warm breath on his face, soothing him unexpectedly: he hadn't realised how much he'd missed their casual closeness, the touch he'd not felt since before Dean died. Shuddering, Sam remembered the feelings from the four months when Dean was gone; the way he felt nothing was good anymore. Admittedly, Ruby had saved him; but Sam was only thankful in the way that meant he'd been alive to see Dean again. Opening his eyes, he gazed at his brother; his exhaustion and pain hurt Sam so much; he just wanted everything to stop.

He sighed, "When you were dead, it felt like a piece of me died. It was like someone had ripped me apart but somehow, I was still breathing." He bored into Dean's moist green eyes, "And the thing is, you say I've changed, well, the way I felt, the anger inside me... it drove me to hunt Lilith, to avenge you, to bring you back. I'm not the Sam you knew because I lost you Dean, but one thing that won't change is, for Christ's sake, I love you."

Everything felt clearer and calmer for the first time in weeks and the moment crystallised in his head.

"I miss you," Sam said quietly, leaning in.

Dean's lips parted slightly.

****

Dean watched as the stars slowly got brighter. It was calm out here in the semi-darkness, drinking and listening to the sound of nothing.

Well, almost nothing; Dean could hear Sam in the Impala calling different pickup companies, trying to correct his stupid mistake. Dean frowned; he still couldn't understand how he'd missed the gas being that low.

Then again, he had had a lot on his mind; he could still hear Sammy's little voice echoing in his head as if he was mocking him about how things had changed and would never be the same again.

The Impala door slammed shut and Dean heard the clink of beers getting closer behind him. He focused harder on the stars above him, the way they pierced the heavens. Damn, God could be looking down for all he knew. Dean averted his gaze back down into his beer; so many of his beliefs had been torn up in his face recently; he hardly knew who he was anymore.

"Looks like we're here for the night," He heard his brother say, joining him. Dean sighed, what a great night they had ahead of them, no food, no beds, no normal. And that counted sleep talking. Sam handed Dean another beer. What had he meant by 'I can explain, Dean, I'm sorry–'? Was there more Dean didn't know about? Sam shifted uncomfortably as if he wanted to leave.

"What were you dreaming about?" Dean asked suddenly, hoping he'd keep this Sam with him longer since he hadn't got mad over the car.

"What?" Sam replied. He sounded confused; right, Dean realised, of course, why would he understand? He wasn't usually a sleep talker.

Dean explained, "Before I woke you up, you were talking in your sleep. You said something like: 'I can explain' and 'It's me Dean, it's Sammy. You're little brother,'" He looked up at Sam, his expression stunned and anxious. Dean caught his eye, willing him to tell him the truth. Sam looked away, thinking hard. Eventually he stared out into the distance, "There were a few dreams, but there was a main one," he began, "I was about to leave for college again, when you and Dad wouldn't talk to me; remember?" Sam turned and smiled uneasily. Dean nodded, pressing him onwards; he at least hadn't lost his stupid habit of dithering. Dean rolled his eyes as he turned away again, but in truth it relaxed him, something so familiar.

"Well, it was just how it was and then you started threatening me and pushing me and you had a knife." Dean flinched; couldn't he even do things right in Sam's dreams?

"No, no! Wait, there's more," Sam looked apologetic, "basically, I saw my reflection and... and I had yellow eyes Dean." He stared down at his hands, but Dean could still see his shame.

"I'm turning into a demon," He added, despairing into the floor.

Dean smiled bitterly; Sam hadn't a clue. Apart from the scary psychic crap, there was nothing vaguely demonic about him. "No you're not. You're not even close. You care so much, Sammy, about everyone, but you're stuck and making the hardest decisions of your life in the worst damn situation you could've been given."

Sam looked up, bewildered. Dean continued, remembering the tortures of hell, "If anyone's a demon, it's me Sammy, the things I did, the things I saw... there aren't words–"screams filled his head and for a moment he was absorbed into his living nightmares. Out of the two of them, Dean knew he was the monster.

"And that's not your fault!" Sam suddenly shouted, bringing Dean back, "Anyone else would have done it, they would have given in straight away but you held out, Dean! Don't you see? You went to hell for me, and I practically danced on your grave! Also, you're right, I'm not the Sam you used to know because I've screwed you over so many times more than any proper brother really would!" Sam stood up, launching his beer bottle into the darkness.

Dean watched as he paced, angry and frustrated. This was stupid, Sam was trying to do his best with what he got – how could he have expected Dean to come back? And of course it hurt, it hurt so bad that things had changed but at least Sam was trying to sort other things out."So you lied a couple of times, big deal! All I'm thinking about is me while you're trying to stop the end of the world. You're trying to fix things and I'm just being weak." The word stung in his mouth, even when he said it himself; knowing that Sam thought it too. His head hurt a little more; this would all be so much easier if he was able to hate Sam, but that was proving impossible.

"Oh yeah, that's why an angel is threatening to stop me while one bothered to actually pull you out of hell." Sam retorted, turning away. Dean frowned; maybe God did want him for something but–

"I don't get it Dean," Sam shouted suddenly. "I thought you hated me?" Dean saw the anguish in his eyes and Dean couldn't bear it. As much as he wanted Sam to feel bad, it hurt to see him this unhappy. "You should hate me, but that's beside the po–"

"Sammy." Dean said fiercely, standing up wanting more than anything to take that look off Sam's face. "I don't hate you." He wished he could though, Dean thought resentfully.

"Then why do you still believe that I think you're weak?" Sam asked angrily, looking as confused as Dean felt. He was so angry, why wasn't he able to hate him? Why weren't things simple?

Dean's eyes burned; the pain in his head and his heart becoming too much, "Because you're my little brother and I can't hate you, Sam; whatever I believe. As much as I want to; as much as I'm trying to push you away, I can't lose you, not again." Tears filled his eyes; the years he'd spent in hell, he'd missed Sam so much that if he had been able to die, he would have.

Dean stared up into Sam's dark green eyes, feeling awful as they began to glisten with tears as well and his face contorted with sadness; things were just getting worse. "Dean," Sam said, one large tear running down his cheek as he blinked. All Dean wanted to do was wipe it away and tell Sammy he didn't care, but he couldn't; they had to fix this, it just wasn't that straightforward. "I know I don't deserve this, but please, I need you to trust me, to understand; if just this once." Dean's head ached; this was impossible. "I didn't mean any of it Dean; you've got to believe me." Sam's voice was pleading; fuck's sake! If he only could!

"Oh Sammy, I want to but–" Dean choked on his own despondent sob; there was just so many reasons why it wouldn't work. For a start, they could be as sorry as they liked but there were still so many other things in the way that neither of them had any control over; Dean's divine duty, for one. Not to mention Ruby; Sam owed her his life and that was a huge debt he couldn't – and knowing Sam – wouldn't break. Dean's guts squirmed bitterly; it didn't help that they were getting down and dirty together. Jesus, a demon! It didn't matter, damn it, Sam loved her and he wouldn't stop listening to her, even if he tried. "It's just so hard. And you and Ruby–"

"There is no, 'me and Ruby'" Sam shouted suddenly, looking horrified.

Dean smiled, tasting salty tears; there was no point Sam lying to himself, Dean saw it and pretending it wasn't there was stupid, even though it burned to keep pushing Sam away, to see him so hurt, "you love her Sammy," he said finally.

"She's a demon, Dean!" He looked livid and scared, "Of course I don't! Why won't you get it? I fucking love you and I need you." Dean's heart throbbed, he thought he had everything figured but every time he rationalised, Sam threw something back harder and more painful to try and overcome... God, Dean loved Sam just as much; needed him maybe more! But this just wasn't–

"Trust me!–"

"How?!" Dean yelled; suddenly pulling Sam towards him, craving his touch, desperate to make him understand the grief and confusion that overwhelmed him.

Sam's eyes closed and he didn't speak, instead silence and stillness filled the air, Dean's head ringing and Sam seemingly deep in thought. Their faces were just inches from each other's; Dean could feel Sam's heartbeat through his shirt and it was unimaginably comforting through the doubt and agony that Dean had felt since, since... his death.

But the prolonged silence wasn't; it had broken the painful monotony of verbal pushing and pulling but the uncertainty of what was going to happen scared Dean; somehow he just couldn't face Sam ending it all and walking away, he'd tried to deny it but Dean needed him and being this close felt already better than how trying to hate Sam ever had.

Maybe Sam didn't love Ruby and Dean had just been trying to prove his point, but there was still so much at stake and wrong–

Sam shuddered, and Dean watched anxiously, wondering what Sam was thinking. If Sam was fighting the same battles that Dean had been, then he figured he was just as mentally worn out as he was. Sam eyes opening at last, searching Dean's face miserably.

He sighed and looked down at last; "When you were dead," he broke the silence, "it felt like a piece of me died. It was like someone had ripped me apart but somehow, I was still breathing." Dean's heart twinged, it hadn't been much different in hell, literally or metaphorically. "And the thing is, you say I've changed, well, the way I felt, the anger inside me... it drove me to hunt Lilith, to avenge you, to bring you back. I'm not the Sam you knew because I lost you Dean, but one thing that won't change is, for Christ's sake, I love you."

Fresh tears filled Sam's eyes and Dean felt too weak and perplexed to speak.

Sam leant closer, "I miss you," his soft words echoed in Dean's head until they were all he could hear and feel.

Dean parted his lips, nothing was the same anymore.

AHAHAH!

Please review!

The wincesty chapter is still to be writen, seeing as I thought it deserved a whole chapter to itself!

Also, could someone help me decide whether I should do the pov thing for the next chapter or if that seems impossible at all?

Thanks xxx