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Here's chapter 3 and I'm going to shamelessly plug one of my other stories here: The First Hunt. If you haven't read it, it's based off of one of the memory scenes from this chapter. This story and that one are linked and that story will give you some good insight as to where the boys are coming from in this story. So, if you feel up to it, click on my name and then go read the story (it's short- it's a two-shot). I promise, it'll make this story that much better…

Chapter 3: Mistakes

Four hours later, Sam was still sitting in the foundation of the framed building on the construction site. Other than the constant bite of mosquitoes, nothing whatsoever had occurred. Sam looked up through the framed outer wall of the building. There were no streetlights in the area- no lights at all in the area, and all of the stars were clearly visible.

As Sam studied the stars, his mind wandered back to his second date with Jess. Jess had told him that he had to plan the date completely on his own, without any help from her. He chose to take her out for an Italian dinner and then take her to the observatory. Stanford's observatory was open for a few hours every Friday night. Sam smiled as he remembered her face coming out of the observatory. She looked so beautiful. He could remember her smile exactly…the way it was higher on the left than on the right. She had been wearing a red shirt and a white skirt. He could see her face as she bit her lip and then stood on her toes and leaned in to wipe some spaghetti sauce off of the edge of his mouth. It was then that he kissed her. Their first kiss…Later Jess had needled Sam, flaunting that he could have 'gotten some' on the first date if he had 'grown some balls'.

Smiling at the memory, Sam wiped the tears from his eyes. He had truly loved her and he had never been so happy in all of his life as he had been with her. Sam looked up at the stars, "I really miss you Jess."

"Talkin' to yourself?"

Sam jumped up and looked towards the voice in time to see Dean jump down to join him in the foundation. Sam quickly wiped his eyes and nodded at his brother, "Dean, what are you doing here?"

Dean shrugged, "The girls are in bed, I figured I'd come by and see how you were doing…I heard you talking to yourself…are you hallucinating?"

Sam smiled and shook his head, he hadn't realized how nervous he had been until his brother had shown up and filled him with relief. "No hallucinations yet. I'm beginning to think the Feeder's gone." He nodded at Dean, "How'd your poltergeist thing go?"

"I'll be honest, I could've used your help man. That geist was a bitch. It wasn't easy with my arm being the way it is."

Sam felt guilty. He should have helped Dean, he knew his brother was hurt, and clearly nothing was happening on his hunt. "I'm sorry Dean, I should have been there."

Dean gave Sam a sad, but very sincere look, "I'm glad you weren't."

Sam stepped back confused, "What?"

Dean closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they were yellow- the eyes of the demon.

Sam froze. This couldn't be happening. How could the demon have gotten to Dean?

Dean walked towards his brother, an evil grin on his face. "Come on Sam. It didn't seem even a little odd to you that all those girls were literally throwing themselves at your brother?"

Sam stared at the yellow-eyed Dean, fear hitting him like shock waves. Dean continued, "Your brother was getting to be as much of a pain in the ass as your father was…" The demon smiled at Sam, "I set myself a little trap for him. I thought, now what would be irresistible to Dean Winchester?" Demon Dean snapped his fingers, "How about an entire dormitory filled with beautiful women begging for his help? And I gotta say, your brother fell for it hook, line, and sinker."

Sam was panicked. He didn't know what to do. How could the demon have gotten Dean? And more importantly, how could he save Dean?

The demon seemed to pick up on Sam's thoughts, "Oh, you can't save him." Dean shook his head, "No. The only thing you could have done was prevent this, but…it's a little too late for that now."

The demon stalked towards Sam and Sam moved back until his back was pressed up against the foundation. The demon's face was inches away from his own, "You left him Sam. You saw that he was hurt and you left him anyway. You could've stopped this, but now…"

Sam shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. Demon Dean smiled and took a step back, "I'm a fair guy. I'll tell you what. I'll give you a chance. One chance to save your brother."

Sam jumped at it, "What?"

Dean pulled a gun out of the back of his pants and handed it to Sam, "Look familiar?"

Sam took the gun and studied it; it was the colt. The demon continued, "There's one bullet left in there Sammy. It seems like we've been here before, but I'm curious what decision you'll make this time around. That's the LAST bullet."

Sam continued to stare at the gun. Last bullet or not, there was no way he would shoot to kill his brother. This bullet would be aimed the same way as its predecessor. Sam aimed the gun and the demon smiled. Holding up a hand, he indicated for Sam to wait, "Before you shoot, let's hear what Dean has to say…"

The yellow disappeared from Dean's eyes and Sam found himself once again staring at his brother. Dean spoke, "Sammy?"

Sam shut his eyes at his brother's voice. Dean sounded frightened…and vulnerable. It wasn't something Sam was used to. He opened his eyes again and found Dean staring at him, confidence had returned to his voice, "You know what to do Sam."

Sam nodded, tears falling freely, "We'll find another way to kill it."

Dean nodded and his eyes once again became yellow. Without hesitation, Sam shot at Dean's leg. As the shot was going off, Sam's eyes widened in fear. The area where he had aimed, the area where he was staring, was no longer Dean's leg. Instead, Dean was now kneeling and where his leg once stood, now was his heart.

Sam watched in slow motion as his brother's body jerked back from the impact the bullet made in his chest. Sam waited for the electrical currents that he expected the bullet to produce, but they didn't come. Instead, yellow-eyed Dean stood up…and laughed.

"Guess I must have given you the wrong colt. Sorry about that."

Sam looked down at the colt in his hands and noted with horror that it was the fake colt, the one that his father had tried to trade with Meg. He stared at the gun in terror and confusion. He had looked at the gun before, how could he have missed the fact that it was the fake? Hands and body trembling, Sam looked up at the demon inhabiting his brother.

The demon made a face of mock pity, "Oh. I'm sorry Sammy. But I couldn't have you killing me." The demon looked down at the blood seeping out of the bullet hole in his chest, "You know, you really are a good shot; daddy taught you well. It went straight through your brother's heart."

Sam dropped the gun and cursed at the demon, "You evil bastard! Leave him alone!"

Yellow-eyed Dean smiled, "Leave him alone?" He seemed to consider it. Then the demon shrugged, "Okay, but only because you asked so nicely." Using Dean's lips, he smiled at Sam one last time, "I'll see you around Sam…" Then Dean's head tipped back and the demon's black mist floated out of his mouth. Immediately Dean fell to his knees.

Sam ran forward and caught his brother before the rest of his body could hit the floor. Holding his brother in his arms, Sam looked down into his brother's unseeing hazel eyes. "Dean?"

Dean gave no response. Sam put his fingers to Dean's neck and waited…nothing. Dean was dead…killed by Sam's shot.

Filled with despair, Sam gently placed his brother's body down on the floor and pushed his eyelids closed. He sat himself next to Dean's body and played with sleeve of his brother's jacket. The moonlight shown through the framed wall, casting lined shadows on Dean's paling body. A pool of blood was spreading out from underneath the jacket, slowly leaking out of the exit wound that Sam had created in his brother's back.

Sam touched his brother's face, silently crying, staring at the blue lips. He thought back to his brother's face the last time he saw it, when the demon had let Dean speak. Dean had trusted him then, 'you know what to do Sam'. Sam's eyes wondered to the bullet hole in his brother's chest. How could he have done this? Despair filled his body to the point of crushing him.

Sam thought back to the conversation he had had with his brother on the phone earlier in the night. Had that even been his brother? Had he been talking to the demon? Had it been Dean that he spoke with in his motel room or had that been the demon?

Smoothing out his brother's jacket, Sam spoke through his tears, "Dean…I'm so sorry." He touched the side of his brother's face, "Please…I'm so sorry." With that, Sam picked up one of his brother's lifeless hands and stared. Tears continued to fall silently as Sam sat- lost in a pool of his brother's blood.

How long he sat there filled with loneliness, guilt, and grief he didn't know. Memories ran through his head, much like they did earlier that night, only this time the memories weren't about Jess. This time they were all Dean. Sam remembered sitting on the hard foam filled sofa of one of their apartments, the itchy material of the couch making him tuck all exposed body parts into his oversized pajamas. Dean came and sat next to him, book in hand and a smile on his face. He wrapped one arm around Sam and pulled him closer before laying the giant book out on their laps. Dean's childhood voice came back to him in a haunted echo, 'Don't worry Sammy, daddy'll be back soon. Hey tell you what? While we wait for him, I'll read you your favorite book and I'll bet that by the time I'm finished, he'll be back."

Sam wiped at his free flowing nose, Dean had won that bet, their dad had walked through the door just as Dean read the last line of the book. A second memory popped into Sam's head. He was holding a gun, a gun that was too heavy for him. He sat leaning against the wheel of the Impala, staring at the gun. A barely adolescent Dean was crouched in front of him. Once again Dean's voice, although this time mid-change, rang in his ears, 'You'll be fine Sammy. There's nothing for you to worry about. I've got your back.' Sam still stared at the large gun, 'but what if I miss the shot? What if I screw up?' He felt Dean smooth out his hair and squeeze his shoulder, 'If that happens, which it won't, I've got you covered. If you miss, I'll shoot it. I promise. Nothing bad's gonna happen to you.' Adolescent Dean flashed a trademark grin, 'Not while I'm around'.

Sam's eyes were once again brought to his brother's face. More tears fell as he realized that he would never see that grin again. His brother would never be around…not anymore. Dean Winchester had been killed, shot by his brother's hand. A brother that he had raised, protected, and practically sacrificed his life for. Sam grew disgusted with himself. How much of his brother had he taken for granted? Had he ever told Dean how much he appreciated him? Sam scooted back from his brother's body until he was seated against the foundation wall. The blood that Sam had been sitting in as it pooled from his brother's body was now smeared across the floor from when he moved to the wall.

Sam sat there for another indeterminable amount of time, until he saw the pink rays of the morning sun reflected in the mist that had grown through the night. The air was cool and damp, working its way through Sam's dulled senses. Realizing that the construction crew would be back soon, Sam questioned what to do what Dean's body. Where would he get it cremated? He knew that Dean wouldn't want to be buried- and especially dug up, salted, burned, and reburied again.

He would probably have to do the cremation himself in the form of a funeral pyre, but could he really burn his brother's body by himself? The sounds of car doors slamming made Sam realize that he was out of time. He would have to make a run for it and then find Dean's body again later. If he got caught now, he'd be arrested for murder and Dean would never get a proper cremation.

Mind made up, Sam took one last look at his brother's dead body and jumped out of the foundation level. The construction foreman and the two workers that had arrived to the site early pointed and shouted to Sam. Sam ignored them and ran for the Impala, which he had parked in the trees just outside the site. In his haste, he paid little attention to anything other than his destination. So he didn't see the rather large hole in the ground that his foot got caught in, sending him tumbling forward. The blade of a nearby bulldozer cut into his head and Sam was thrown into darkness.

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