Once again, HUGE thank you to all of you who reviewed! You totally made my day! So thanks for the happiness!!!! For those of you that I can't reply to, LynyrdSkynyrdRoadie, Julie, v, and Brokenwind: Thanks so much for reviewing and I'm glad that all of you like it so far! As for good ideas…I just do what the muses tell me. This particular story is the work of three different muses as I kept being abandoned throughout…

So FINALLY! We get out of Sam's head and into Dean's…whew. I know a lot of you are waiting for this so I'll get out of your way now before I get trampled. Here ya go…

Chapter 6: Regrets

Dean woke up to the pain in his neck he had gained sleeping in a cheap plastic chair for the night. Squinting at the sunlight that seemed to aim itself directly at his face, he attempted to rub out the knot in his shoulder. He debated whether or not he should close the blinds. The sunlight was blinding him, but Sam might like the light. He hadn't been very lucid the last time the sun was up. To Sam, the past day and a half was probably just one long night. Mind made up about the blinds, Dean turned to look at his brother.

Sam looked horrible. He was so pale that Dean could actually see the blue veins behind the skin on Sam's face. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and a white bandage covered his forehead. Sam's lips were cracked, pieces of dry skin hanging on them, and inconsistent stubble faintly covered his face. Dean honestly couldn't remember ever seeing his brother look so bad- although there probably had been times, but they had been conveniently forgotten.

Looking up at the heart monitor, he was immensely relieved to see that Sam's blood pressure had gone up. The blood pressure seemed to be steadily increasing, although not as quickly as Dean would have liked. Still, it was increasing at a faster rate than if Sam really had lost three fourths of his blood. Apparently recovering from an emotion feeding was quicker than recovering from blood loss.

Dean looked at his watch; it was 11 am. He shuddered. It was at this time yesterday that he had gotten the phone call from Sam. He shook his head at himself. He had known something was wrong yesterday morning when he had called Sam three times and received no answer. Still, at the time, he had made up excuses rather than accepting that something was wrong and finding Sam. It wasn't until Sam called him and the nurse informed him that Sam was in the hospital that he knew something had gone wrong with Sam's hunt. He should have known before that. He should have known when it happened. He should have been there.

Dean stood up, stretching and walked into the private bathroom. Turning on the water, he splashed the cold liquid over his face. He could feel the light beard on his skin and briefly wondered if he should shave, or if Sam would want to.

Dean gripped onto the bathroom sink. The cold porcelain pushed against his palms as Dean tried to focus all of his frustration into it. He had screwed up. Atrociously. He reviewed the events of the past 2 days. Sam had called him, told him that he needed help. Dean had refused him and then went to a hot tub party. The arms attached to the porcelain began shaking. There would be no way to fix this. He had broken a promise. He had promised his mother, his father, Sam, and even himself that he would ALWAYS protect Sam- at all costs, no matter what. There would be no way to undo what he had done.

Sam was still alive, because of luck, but things were never going to be the same between them again. Sam could never trust Dean again. They both knew it and even Sam had said it. He had already commented on Dean's 'not watching' him well and he had already questioned his brother's trust. Dean glared at the sink wishing that he could find a way back in time to go back to two nights ago, beat the shit out of himself, and then go help Sam. It was a wish that would never be fulfilled and Dean had no idea what to do from here.

Sam made it clear that he didn't want Dean going after the Feeder and Dean could understand it. If he were in Sam's position, he would also feel territorial about the hunt. But now there was nothing for Dean to do…no way to help his brother. The opportunity for helping him had sailed by and Dean watched it drift passed from a cushy seat in a hot tub. God…what the hell had he been thinking! Dean felt his chest tighten as he fully came to terms with just how horribly he had screwed up.

The introspection ceased to a halt when the wound in Dean's shoulder grew painful enough to make Dean aware of his attack on the sink. His shoulder was sore, but otherwise fine. It reminded him that the poltergeist still needed to be dealt with, but he wasn't about to leave Sam and, in all honesty, he didn't want to face the girls again. Seeing them would remind him of what he had chosen over his brother. Sixteen incredibly hot girls fawning over him were not worth as much as one Sam. Dean shuddered and walked back into the room- there was a thought he was glad he hadn't said out loud.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A day later, Dean signed his brother out of the hospital. The doctors were against it, still not understanding what was wrong with Sam, but Dean knew what was wrong, and his brother didn't need more tests. Sam's blood pressure was now stable enough for him to move about…if he could. Sam's broken ankle seemed to be causing more problems than anything else. It was still splinted, but wouldn't be able to be casted for another week, not until the swelling went down, and that meant Sam had to move slowly and carefully, which really wasn't a problem because his blood pressure had demanded the same thing.

They hadn't spoken much, at least not about anything important anyway. Sam's blood pressure had been too low for him to be able to discuss anything that would possibly upset him…that was the excuse. Shame was the real reason. Dean's shame of failing to protect and be there for his brother and Sam's shame of failing his first solo hunt and 'killing' his brother.

The ride back to the motel was brief and Dean spent the time arguing whether Guns-N-Roses had brought back metal (Sam's opinion that they did) and whether Guns-N-Roses actually played metal (Dean's opinion that they did not). The discussion was heated…and loud, but the silence between them rang louder. The unspoken discussion of what had happened that night hung in the air like a wall being dropped in between them. As time went on, the wall fell lower, and gradually they saw less and less of each other, until the wall was all they could see.

Dean helped his brother into the motel room minding his broken ankle. He helped Sam get settled on the bed before laying down himself. It felt good to lie in a bed after spending two nights in that blue plastic chair. Dean looked around the room as a thought occurred to him, "You got a room with two beds."

Sam opened one eye and looked over at his brother, "Nothing gets by you."

Dean said nothing; plenty had gotten by him recently. Sam sighed and spoke again, "Whatever happened with the poltergeist? Did it go ok?"

Dean froze. He couldn't tell Sam that he had blown him off for a hot tub party, but he couldn't lie and say he got the poltergeist either. He couldn't say anything. He was too filled with shame and as much as he deserved whatever anger Sam would have for him, he didn't know if he could handle seeing Sam look at him the way their father had after the striga incident. He didn't deserve Sammy's trust or respect, but he couldn't deal with losing it either.

"Dean?" Sam had apparently noticed the lack of an answer.

"Yeah. I still have to finish it." Dean nodded, his dad would've been proud. That answer was truthful, yet still cryptic.

Sam looked surprised, "You didn't finish it? Why? I thought you just had to do a cleansing. It should have taken a hour at the most." Sam slowly sat up and looked his brother over, "Dean, did something else happen? Did it attack you again?"

Dean cringed, and now Sam was worried about him. He should have known…Sam never accepted cryptic from their father either. "It didn't attack me Sam, I just didn't get a chance to finish it..." Dean made a show of smelling the air. "Man, I reek." He looked at Sam, "I'm gonna go take a shower." Then he got up and fled to the sanctuary of the bathroom.

Sam stared at the closed door in confusion. He knew his brother didn't do discussions well, but he was honestly surprised to find out that Dean hadn't finished his hunt. It didn't make any sense. The cleansing really should have only taken an hour. Why wouldn't Dean have finished it?

Sam laid back on the bed searching for an explanation…and one did enter his mind. It was plausible, but Sam had a hard time believing it. Was it possible that Dean had put off destroying the poltergeist because he had been…'distracted'? Sam considered it, trying to determine what would win if Dean had a choice between hunting and sex, but the choice hadn't been just hunting and sex. The choice had been hunting, sex, or Sam. Whatever the winner had been, clearly Sam had been the loser. A myriad of feelings ran through him at that thought. Whether Dean had blown him off for hunting or sex, either way Dean had blown him off.

A dull pain settled in Sam's stomach. He felt hurt…and a little betrayed. He couldn't believe that Dean had blown him off. And after he specifically asked for his help.

Sam considered this more and relaxed. If Dean had blown Sam off for sex…he had no right to be upset. It was no different than when Dean had to go on his solo hunts because Sam had left for college. Dean was entitled to his college experience too. He understood that. He couldn't be angry with his brother. He just never thought that Dean would say 'no' to him if he asked for help.

A memory popped into Sam's head:

He and Dean in a car, a map on his lap, flashlight in his hand, Dean turning to him, "We can make it by morning."

"Dean, um…"

"You're not going."

"The interview's in 10 hours, I gotta be there."

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home."

"Sam? You know we made a hell of a team back there."

"Yeah."

So apparently he and Dean had a lot in common. Dean had asked for his help on the Blackwater case and if it weren't for Jess' death, he would have blown him off for a law school interview. Sam shook his head. He couldn't believe that only a little over a year ago he was thinking about law school…but back to the situation at hand. Sam's awareness of his impending hypocrisy helped alleviate whatever hurt and betrayal he had felt due to his brother's actions. Dean was human and Sam had never really considered that. To Sam, Dean was his infallible, all-knowing, indestructible big brother. But in reality, Dean was a human being. So if there was one night where Dean chose to live his own life rather than sacrifice his happiness to save Sam, then Sam could get over it. Now the only question was, should he bring all this up with Dean?

Dean wouldn't have this conversation willingly, but it was very probably a conversation that needed to be had, before the wall settled and the conversation could never be breached. As an answer to Sam's dilemma, Dean exited the bathroom, showered and fully dressed.

Preparing himself for the frustration of trying to make his brother talk, Sam sat up and cleared his throat, "Uh, hey Dean?"

Dean looked over, "Yeah?"

Sam had another question for himself, how does one start this sort of conversation? "Um, you know, it's okay that you didn't help me out." Sam could feel his face turning red with anxiety as his brother stared at him. "You know, the other night. I mean, I don't know if…I just…" Sam knew that his pulse was going too fast, but the conversation had been started, there was no going back now. "I don't know if you even…I just wanted you to know, that it's okay."

Sam held his breath trying to search Dean's face out for an emotion, but once again, his brother kept them all hidden. It was no wonder his brother was such an excellent poker player. Finally Dean spoke, "Dude. I didn't understand anything you just said. I'm going out to the store. You want anything?"

Sam exhaled in frustration. Dean was going to make this extremely difficult. "I'm just saying…I don't know if you feel bad about not helping me out the other night, but if you do, you shouldn't. You don't have to always give up what you really want to do to save my ass."

Sam saw Dean visibly pale and knew he had been right about Dean's guilt. However, very quickly, the pale turned to anger, "Don't tell me how to feel Sam."

Sam tried to process that in his thickening brain, "What does that mean?"

"It means this conversation is over. What do you want from the store?"

Sam shook his head; it was unfair for Dean to make him work this hard given the lack of circulation to his brain, "How do you feel?"

Dean stepped back, "What are you freakin' Dr. Phil?"

Sam tried again, "I just don't want you to feel guilty."

"How I feel is none of your damn business, Sam."

His vision suddenly grew dark and Sam briefly wondered how he looked on the outside. He fought against passing out. If he passed out now, Dean would never have a conversation with him again. "It is my business, man. Dean, you're my brother. We work together…most of the time. If something's bothering you, it affects me."

Dean scoffed, "Right, 'cause you're always so open about what's bothering you."

Sam shook his head, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Dean walked in front of his brother, "The visions…how long did it take you to share that with me? And how bout those nightmares of Jessica…you were real easy to talk to about that…How about why you don't date anymore? Or hell! What about why you were adamant about not helping the girls? Huh? Right Sam…you're just an open book about your feelings!"

Sam winced, apparently he hadn't saved himself from hypocrisy. He spoke to his brother in a quiet voice, "I was only trying to help you. I just wanted you to know that I'm not mad."

Dean stared him down before speaking with an equally low voice, although his was filled with anger, "That's because you don't know what really happened…"

"What are you…" Sam's vision went completely black as he lost the ability to sit up. Sam fell to the side and off the bed.

"Shit!" Dean began running forward as soon as he saw Sam's eyes roll back into his head. Thankfully, he managed to catch Sam before he fully fell off the bed.

Pushing down the pain of guilt that took up permanent residence in his chest, Dean gently maneuvered his brother back onto the bed. He laid Sam down and put two fingers to his neck to monitor his pulse. He cursed himself for not having noticed how pale Sam had become. He shouldn't even have entered into that conversation. He looked at Sam and noticed Sam's eyes were open and staring at him. "Sam?"

Dean held his breath as his brother stared blankly. After a minute of receiving no response, Dean tried again, "Sam."

This time, Sam blinked and looked over at him before answering slowly, "Sorry…should've seen that one coming."

Dean nodded, "You and me both, man…Do me a favor and just relax for awhile? We can continue this therapy session another time, when you're not auditioning for Grey's Anatomy."

Sam shook his head, Dean was right; he needed to rest. But the conversation wasn't over and if it died now, there would be no way to resurrect it. "What really happened?"

Dean didn't hide his emotion this time; anger was written all over his face. "What are you freakin' kidding me? Enough Sam! You just fainted! The conversation's over."

Dean grabbed his jacket and went to leave. Sam sat up and immediately fell back down again; apparently his circulation had not resumed a healthy pace yet. Ignoring the dizziness, Sam looked over to his brother who had paused, presumably to make sure that Sam didn't fall off the bed…again. "I want to know Dean. What happened?"

Dean raised his eyebrows consumed by anger at his brother's stubborn neglect of his own health, "Fine. You want to know what happened?"

Sam nodded and Dean continued, "I went to a hot tub party."

Sam gave no reaction and Dean threw on his jacket, "There. You happy now? I ditched you when you needed me so that I could spend time in a hot tub…and I did it on purpose."

Sam winced. That had hurt. But he knew that Dean hadn't done it on purpose, or at least he wouldn't have if he had known what the outcome would have been. Sam spoke to his brother calmly, "Dean. It's ok man…It's no different than when I went off to college and you went on hunts by yourself. You didn't do anything wrong because you wanted to do something other than hunt. We both chose to do our own thing and not help each other. You're no more guilty than I am."

Dean stared at Sam with a mixture of rage and disbelief on his face. "Didn't do anything…" Dean shook his head, "That's crap Sam. I screwed up. And it's not the same thing man. When I came to you in college…I told you that I wanted your help…that I didn't want to do this alone…you came with me. And even if you hadn't, it's not the same."

From his prone position, Sam shook his head. "It's exactly the same. You think just because you're older you have this responsibility to protect me…it works both ways man. Birth order has nothing to do with it. We're brothers Dean, we protect each other. I screwed up too. I knew your shoulder was hurt and I let you go after the poltergeist alone..."

Dean interrupted his brother, "I didn't go after the geist, dude, and I definitely didn't get hurt…You did…"

Sam returned the interruption, "That means you were luckier than me, not safer…we both messed up on this one. You shouldn't feel guilty just because I got more hurt."

Silence stretched as the brothers stared each other down. Finally Dean spoke, "Do you remember my prom?"

Sam's eyebrows shot up; he hadn't expected that. Cautiously he answered, "I remember that it was cancelled." Upon receiving no reaction from Dean, Sam continued, "I remember you renting a tux and talking about your date. Her name was Michelle, she had red hair…I remember you really liked her."

Dean nodded and sat in a chair by the window. He looked at Sam, "Do you remember what you were doing the night of my prom?"

Sam's expression grew confused; he had no idea where this was going. "I think that was the night when we went after the rawhead. The one where you and I got to play bait."

Dean nodded and Sam continued his memory of the hunt, "As I remember, there was a second rawhead that dad didn't know about and he was dealing with that one when the first came up on us. Then the first one grabbed me, tried to pull me under the water, you shot it, we burned the remains, and then we went home."

Dean nodded. Sam was still confused, "Dean, what does…"

Dean interrupted the question, "It wasn't cancelled."

"What?"

Dean sighed, "My prom…it wasn't cancelled. I went to Michelle's house an hour before the prom and told her I couldn't go."

Sam looked shocked, "Why, man? I thought you liked her?"

Dean agreed, staring at the wall as he spoke. "I did, Sam. But dad told me about the hunt…"

Sam broke in, angry, "Dad made you miss the prom?!"

Dean looked back to Sam and shook his head, "No. He told me to go…said you guys 'had this one'." Sam looked even more confused and Dean continued, "But he told me his plan. That he was going to leave you sitting out there as bait. I just had this feeling, man. And you…you were scared. It was all over your face." Dean looked away from his brother, "I just…I couldn't go, dude. I promised you, a long time ago, I'd keep you safe…that we'd always stay together on a hunt."

Sam took in a breath. He felt like he'd been punched. Dean had sacrificed his prom for him. "Dean…" What was he even supposed to say?

Dean looked back over at Sam, "I did the right thing that night, man. I saved your life back then…The other night…" Dean paused before speaking again, "I broke that promise Sam."

Sam shook his head, filled with regret that his brother had sacrificed so much for him. "You can't always be there Dean. This was my hunt, and it was my responsibility to keep myself safe. I got hurt because I let my guard down, not because you weren't there. Like you said, I'm 23 years old, man. I should be able to do a hunt on my own by now."

Dean shook his head to interrupt but Sam cut him off, "Honestly? I'm kind of glad you blew me off to hang out in a hot tub."

Dean was taken aback and Sam explained, "I hate that you're always making sacrifices. You should be able to have fun too every once and awhile."

Dean smirked, "I have fun Sam. Believe me, I have plenty of fun. You're thinking I'm you." Sam rolled his eyes and Dean went on, "Seriously dude, I like hunting. The things you think of as sacrifices…I like them."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Your prom? Come on Dean, you can't tell me you didn't want to go."

Dean stood up and made his way back to the door. "Look, I wanted to go, I'm not gonna lie. But…" Dean laughed at the memory, "When I told her that I couldn't go? She practically kicked my ass. Went on about how I had ruined her life because she had to go to her senior prom, alone…the most important night of her life. While she was screaming, all I could think was, 'Thank God my life isn't so freakin' boring that getting stood up for the senior prom is the end of the world.'"

Dean stared at his brother, "I wanted to go, but it wasn't that big a deal. The hunt was more important that night and I chose to go on the hunt. It was my choice, man, and I got no regrets about it. The other night…that I regret." And with that, Dean opened the door and left the room.

Were you happy with Dean's head? Did you enjoy the conversation that the boys FINALLY had?? Review and lemme know!!