A/N: Whoo. I GOT A REVIEW. I love you anna! *violently sobbing*

Falling Down

Sam groaned as he awoke to the sun peeking through the curtains of the crappy motel he was sleeping in and effectively burning his tired eyes. He made it through the night alive again, how wonderful. He stands up from the bloody disaster zone of a bed a little too quickly and sways to the left almost falling over. For a moment Sam is not really sure if he was one hundred percent there or still in cloud fucked up nine.

After gaining his bearings a few minutes later, he stumbles over to the sink and inspects last night's damage. He had a few deep cuts on his bicep and a shallow gash along his chest. Then, there were the old cuts he had reopened along his shoulders in his sleep. Damn, this was more than what he'd wanted to do last night. More than usual anyway, and one of the cuts along his bicep looked like it might need stitches as well. He sighs and picks up the needle and floss he keeps at the sink at all times and begins to sow the cut. Normally when he'd have to stitch himself up, he'd wince and bitch about it until Dean would begrudgingly come over and fix him up. It never really hurt that bad but he had to admit, he liked Dean babying him every once in a while and it was just nice, even if it was a bloody mess of a job since Dean had the sowing ability of a cow. Then, for a moment, he could trick himself in to thinking Dean cared for him, that he was fixing Sam out of the goodness of his heart, not just the feeling of responsibility.

Sam smiles and shakes his head of the thought. There was no point in going there again and he knew that if he let himself slip into thinking about Dean too much, well, last night might not stay a nightly ritual anymore. He blinks realizing he's finished sowing himself up and grabs a fresh bottle of whiskey and douses the cuts in it to clean it before hoping in the shower and scrubbing off what seems like a whole layer of skin, opening several other cuts in the process, and drying off his soon to be scarred body with a bloody spotted towel. He chooses his old long sleeve table cloth shirt and jeans like normal and heads out the door. He makes it to his old beat up stolen-from-a-junkyard car and drives it over to the bar for his shift. His shift under the watchful and all too observant Lindsey who was adamant about figuring 'Keith' out, not that Sam really cared. She could know all she wanted about Keith as long as she left Sam Winchester alone.

He parks in the lot behind the bar and takes a deep ragged breath. He wasn't Sam lost-his-lifeline-fucked-up Winchester. He was Keith, normal everyday guy, Keith and to everyone else it had to stay that way. There was no need to get anyone else involved in his crap. He wasn't that bad. He was fine.

With one last look in the flip down mirror to triple check nothing from last night was visible, he makes his way inside a small smile plastered on his face and he goes through the motions of his day. He serves the local drunk his beers, tells Lindsey he's too busy for that "tell all dinner" she's been begging for, and tries to be all around normal, happy guy who's drifting through town without a care in the world. Ah, yes, this was his life, dull, boring, and safe from monsters. Well, except earlier when he had called Bobby about some serious demon activity. It tore him apart telling Bobby to send someone else to work on it, but his stiches shouldn't be stressed for at least a few days so he didn't want to chance it damaging the muscle tissue to kill a few demons. Maybe he should call Bobby back… he should take the case, it might just kill him but what else is new? Sam was ripped from his musing as a thick drawl calls out.

"Sam! How ya' doing boy?"

He clenches his jaw. Great. They were already here. Sam glances at the clock. Ten, that means four hours to close. There was no way he was going to go hunting now. Not that he had anything against these guys. He wasn't in a group hunt mood, too many memories. Plus they'd ask too many questions and those questions would go back to Bobby and there was no need for Bobby to worry about him.

"Hey guys," he plasters on a happy fake smile. Not that these guys would notice. They already looked like they had a few before they got here.

"Sam? What happened to Keith?" Sam glances over at Lindsey who had the slyest smile he'd ever seen on a girl. Damn it, she heard them use his real name, "Uh… How about we talk later, huh?" Sam feels bad for using her like that but she instantly lights up

"Dinner?" Oh, this girl…

"Uh sure, but if you could just give me a moment, I'll answer all your questions later, okay?"

"Okay!" she smiles and walks off. Sam sighs he'll have a mess to deal with that later at a dinner he didn't want to attend. No 'fun' tonight. He was still mulling over if that was a good or a bad thing when one of the hunters starts talking… again.

"Do ya remember me, Sam, I mean, Keith?" Sam nods at the winking hunter warily, still trying to place him.

"You're Tim, right, from that hunt in Missouri?" Sam keeps the motions going like he actually cares and ignores Lindsey's arched eyebrow as she cleans one of the tables. She really needs to go away. People didn't used to annoy him this much, but since Dean basically kicked him out on the streets they've really been working his nerves.

"Ah, well sorry about blowing your cover like that," Sam thanks his lucky stars that the old hunter drops an octave or two at the mention of 'cover' so that Lindsey wouldn't over hear it, "but we'd really appreciate it if you could give us a hand on this one, son. There's almost a nest of demons just outside of town and-"

Sam holds up his hand cutting them off, "Sorry, but I'm not really hunting right now." He gives them a half apologetic look and the old men nod.

"Okay then, we'll be outside of town in the old farm house if you change your mind, but if you could give us your finest beer before we head out..." The man smiles slyly.

Sam chuckles at the hint; if these dumb asses wanted to get hammered before they fought some demons he wasn't going to stop them. Not his job, "Yeah, sure it's on me."

He men head back to talking about their hunt as Sam hands them their beers. "So, Sam is it?"

Sam faces an impatient looking Lindsey, "Yeah, Sam Keith I used to go by Sam when I was little, but now I go by Keith," the lie flows easily. For a second he feels bad for lying to her, but only a second. Most co-workers who had boyfriends didn't care that much. Not Lindsey though, she apparently made it her life's work to know everyone and anyone. It was annoying.

"Well, so dinner, then? Anywhere in particular you want to go?"

"No, not really, anywhere is alright,"

Lindsey pauses to think and then brightens up, "How about a surprise? I'll drive."

Sam laughs to himself and nods, "Yeah sure, but uh don't you think it'll be a little late? We've got a while before shift ends."

She laughs, "It's a weekday, I don't think anyone will miss us if we skip the next few hours and close early."

Sam just smiles and nods as the overly peppy blonde leaves after noticing the group of hunters is gone, and grabs the glasses leaving Sam to wipe down the bar and brood. Those guys blew his cover, and were half drunk they were in no shape to take down demons, especially if there were as many as they had said there were. A small voice told him it was not his problem that they could handle it but the other and louder voice told him he should help them out since it was his stupid self that got them on the case but his internal struggle was abruptly ended when Lindsey grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the door making the decision for him. "Come on , let's go."

Sam resists her pull and stops her right in her tracks, "Can I at least lock the door before you drag me to this mystery location?"

She smiles and flips the open sign over and winks, "Fine but hurry up," Sam huffs as he walks over to the bar to grab the keys off the hook. He finishes turning the lock on the door as Lindsey pulls up behind him and honks impatiently. "Come on, Keith! Dinner awaits!" He gives a forced smile at the now hyper, peppy blonde and jumps into her passenger side as she speeds off to some unknown restaurant. When they get there Sam's about to go on auto pilot, he just wants to get home and play with his knife some more, the pull's strong but bearable. Sam sat in the car brooding and finally decided he should just let himself go, he'll leave town in three days, he'd been upset for so long he should have some fun. So Sam perks up a little as she asked some questions about his family life and what not, Sam talked about his dad being a hunter, substituting deer for monsters, and how his brother was that full time while he wanted to go out and do something else outside the family business. She'd talked about her life how she'd run away because school was too stressful or something like that, it seemed like the generic 'rebel' phase; mostly he just answered her questions. She didn't pry too much especially about the lack of him mentioning his mom or any girlfriends and for that he was grateful. He'd stayed after dinner for a few drinks with her, careful not to get drunk and paid the bill before she offered to drive him home, which he countered with the fact she couldn't even walk straight and drove her to her house in town before walking back to the bar to grab his car in the abnormal cold and driving home to collapse on the bed.

Sam sat wondering, as he pulls his legs to his chest sitting up, if he should carry out his nightly ritual. He had time, it was only midnight. He shook the thoughts from his head. It was wrong. He shouldn't want to hurt himself… but he wanted to… maybe if he did Dean would come back and he could go out to a bar with Dean and watch as he hit on women. Laughing and cheering him up when he got rejected. Making sure they both didn't drink too much. Sam smiles at the memory. He had gone pretty far the night before and there was no need to go too fast but he didn't care either.

And for that reason he still picked up his knife and cut into his knee. No one would question him. He was barely tipsy, and he just wanted to see the blood drip down his leg before he went to sleep. Granted it wasn't a nice looking like the ones on his bicep, it was barely a scratch really. However, it was just deep enough for a drop of blood do cascade down his leg. He studies the droplet falling from his leg, it really was a magical display, the red bead falling leaving a trail of crimson where it touched, tainting his pale skin. Not that it could be tainted more than it already was. He was a monster. Just like Dean had said...

Sam shivers as a chill sweeps through the room and watches in fascination as the droplet hardens in to a frozen bloody tear. He gathers himself enough to rip his gaze from the droplet to see a man standing in the room. Normally, he'd freak out and shoot the guy or something because there was nothing natural about the guy who just so happened to show up in his motel room in the middle of the night with out opening the door, however; the man just looked sad and angry, not angry like how a ghost would look at him if this room was haunted and he'd already checked if the room was haunted, twice, but the man looked angry at himself. He could tell because it was a look he saw in the mirror every day.

"Sam...what are you doing?"

Sam ignores the question and indulges his hunter side. "What are you?"

"An angel." Sam snorts. That explains a lot the helpless expression, entering the room with out using the door, the staring, and he probably had something to do with the level of comfort that he felt right now, too. Hell if he knew. Angels weren't even real to them a year ago. Now they're playing suicide watch? Whatever floats their boats.

"What do you want?" He really doesn't have time for this. He was out of the business. There was no need for him to be alive anymore. He'd done his damage.

"I'm not sure right now."

That grabs Sam's attention, "What do you mean?"

The angel tilts his head a lot like how Castiel does it when Dean makes a pop culture reference.

"I came here to ask you something..." the angel trails off, "...but I didn't realize that the pull ment this..."

"Pull?" Sam arches his brow, demanding an explanation and lays his knife on the table, he obviously wasn't going to use it anymore tonight with an angel in the room, and crosses his legs focusing his attention on the angel and ignoring the strain his now frozen blood has on his skin.

"Yes. I felt a pull to this location, I had ignored it at first, thinking it had to do with... something else... but it's continued for sometime now and flares occasionally and I believe it has something to do with your... injuries."

"So what you're just flying around and all of a sudden you just decide to show up here, of all places?"

"Well, I knew you were in this general location, Castiel made it to where I couldn't know exactly where you were but I new where you were approximately, and I thought that was why I felt the pull, but I now believe it was so that I could stop you."

Sam snorts and flops down on the bed letting his head hit the hard pillow, "Stop me form hurting myself? Good luck with that. That's like asking Dean not to eat pie. "

The angel narrows his eyes at Sam's sarcasm, "I have my ways... though I am surprised that you're not going to call me a liar or investigate me."

"Normally, I would but I just don't care anymore. My brother left me for dead and won't answer my calls. Hell, he changed his phone numbers. I have almost nothing to my name and have been hunting for years and all I have to show for it are a few battle scars and some stories that could send me away to a mental hospital, everyone I've ever loved is either dead or hates me except Bobby but Bobby has to look after Dean...I just, I just don't care anymore. I really don't. I've tried my hardest but everything I do seems to make things worse." Sam lets out breath he didn't realize he was holding and runs a hand through his hair, "And now I'm ranting to an angel who I don't even know because he's the first person who's really honestly cared enough to ask and who wasn't doing it to get inside of me. At this point you could set the room on fire and I'd just sit here and burn like I should, like I deserve."

The angel looks down at the hunter and joins hims on the bed staring at the hunters viciously scared body. "You know Sam, you don't make things worse. You made things better for me..."

Something in Sam's mind screams how totally and utterly wrong it was to be conversing with an angel while lying down in bed and how this angel seemed to like him for starting the Apocalypse and how only one angel really would like the fact he had opened the cage, but he just didn't care anymore. The angel could stab him through the chest and kill him, and he still wouldn't care. He might even thank him.

"Sam, I have a question for you."

"Hmm?" Sam lazily lulls his head to the side looking into the blonde haired angel's stormy blue eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Right now?" Sam turns his attention back to the ceiling hearing the angel hum in agreement,"I'd say Dean, but he doesn't want to see me. I'm just a monster to him. So I don't know..."

The angel hums shifting on the bed so he's on his side and closer to Sam's head. He brings a hand questionably up to Sam's hair and the hunter shrugs allowing the angel to rub his hand soothingly through Sam's hair, " You know Sam, I want my brother back, too... but I don't think he'll want me, either. We didn't leave on the best of terms."

Sam knows who the angel is, that statement left no question in his mind, but he still doesn't question the angel, he just sits there in the comfortable silence with him running his hand through his hair. Sam remembers when Dean would lay down with him after he'd had a nightmare and run his hand through his hair just like how the angel was doing it. He really missed Dean.

"Sam,"

"Hmm?"

"Do you mind if I stay with you?"

"Sure, I don't care,"

"Thank you,"