Disclaimer: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.

Title: Lose Yourself

Chapter Title: Chapter Six

Set After: Sometime after 'Nightmare', 'The Benders' quotes included.

Summary: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.

Warnings: self-harm; suicidal thoughts; probably a few typos here and there...

"Mistress, what do you wish for us to do?"

A woman with long black hair stood in the doorway of the dead demon's home, looking around. She was wearing a full body suit of black leather, and she wore sunglasses, her black boots slightly clicking on the linoleum floor. Four men walked behind her.

The woman faced the one to her right, smirking slightly. "We'll take over. Those humans killed my sister, and I'll be damned if I let them get away with it. But this time we'll get them my way… not hers. I'll kill the youngest off first, without his brother even realizing it was me." She lowered her sunglasses slightly, her red eyes darting around the house slowly, taking in every detail of her new home.

"Sam, I'm going out to get breakfast. What do you want?" Dean called through the motel bathroom door, knocking slightly.

Sam opened the door, facing his brother as he thought slightly. After a moment he shrugged. "Nothing?"

Dean smirked slightly, and actually chuckled a bit. "That's funny. No, really, what do you want?" He crossed his arms, looking amused, but, yet, serious.

Sam rolled his eyes, then sighed, nodding. "Whatever you pick up is fine."

"Are you sure?" Dean asked, walking over to the chair and grabbing his coat, pulling it on. When Sam nodded Dean shrugged. "Alright. Bagels and coffee it is then. Any objections?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Sam said, nodding. He walked over to his bed and sat down, his hands shaking slightly. He grabbed onto them, hoping to make them stop before Dean noticed. But, alas, no luck.

"Hey, you alright?" Dean asked, shooting Sam a worried glance.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Sam said, smiling weakly at his brother. "I probably just need something to eat. Go get breakfast."

"You're sure?" Dean asked, looking hesitant. "Cause I can always just order something."

"No, Dean, really, I --" Sam suddenly broke off, closing his eyes tightly in pain as he held his head. He gasped for air, a pained expression upon his face.

"Sam!" Dean ran over to his brother, and knelt down in front of him. "Sam?"

"You killed her," the black haired woman growled, holding Dean up by his neck. "Do you know what's it feels like to just have your younger sibling ripped out from underneath you?" She looked over at Sam, who was pressed against the wall, a knife being held to his neck by an invisible force. "Well, now you will. I'll hurt you, and then make you watch me murder your baby brother while you slowly die yourself."

The woman threw Dean against the wall, where his body collided with a coat hanger. He took in a sharp gasp before he fell to the floor, the wound deep within his back. The woman then looked back at Sam, smirking.

"Say 'bye-bye,' Sammy."

Sam's focus quickly went back to his brother, who was looking both scared and worried. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. "Dean, she had a sister. She had an older sister."

"Who?" Dean asked, now starting to look confused. He slowly helped Sam back on the bed, and Sam realized that he had fallen off the bed.

"The demon we killed," Sam said, still holding onto his head a bit, the sharp pain still evident as he moved around. "She had an older sister. Someone who didn't want her to die. So… in my vision, she said that she was going to make you watch me die. She… she threw you against the wall and you got stabbed in the back by a coat hanger… Then she turned back to me and… that was it."

"We're not going to let that happen," Dean said quickly, pushing some hair out of Sam's face. "Are you okay?" When Sam nodded Dean looked doubtful, and walked over to his bag, grabbing a bottle of Tylenol. He walked back over to his little brother and handed it to him. "Let me go get some water."

"No, no, this is fine," Sam said, unscrewing the cap. "Really. It's fine." He shook a couple into his hand then threw them into his mouth, quickly swallowing, and set the bottle back on the nightstand. When Dean reached to grab them Sam shook his head. "No. Don't."

"Why not?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"I might need them later." Sam sighed and laid back on his bed, closing his eyes softly. "Is it time to go to bed yet?"

"Not for another fourteen hours, Sammy," Dean said, smirking slightly. "I'll go get us some breakfast now."

"No," Sam said quickly, opening his eyes. "Until that woman is gone we shouldn't split up; she could use us against each other."

"I'll be gone ten minutes. Please," Dean said, chuckling slightly. He shook his head, disbelieving how paranoid his brother was being. He reached for the doorknob.

"Dean, I'm serious," Sam said, sitting up. "We shouldn't split up."

"Sam, we'll be fine. Don't be such a worry wart," Dean said, opening the door. Suddenly it closed quickly, and he backed up a bit, looking over at Sam.

Sam's eyes were wide, and he had no doubt in his mind that he had done that. He swallowed hard, looking over at Dean, who was staring at him. One look into Sam's eyes told Dean that his suspicions were correct. He thought for a moment, then nodded slightly, walking over to his bed, sitting down.

"Alright, I'll order," Dean said, nodding. "And if you ever use your freaky powers on me again I'll kick your ass."

"I didn't mean to," Sam said softly, looking down at his hands. "Sorry."

Dean looked over at his brother and sighed slightly, nodding. He grabbed his phone and dialed, waiting a moment before someone picked up. "Doughnut house? Yeah, I'd like to order…"

Sam couldn't believe he had used his powers on his brother, of all people. Back when the demon was torturing them and molesting Sam he hadn't even managed to move a pen. And, yet… he had used his powers on Dean to keep him in the motel room. Sam just hoped that his older brother wasn't scared of him, wasn't fearing the fact that Sam could kill him in his sleep without meaning to. Maybe Sam should try and get away while he still could…

"Earth to Sam. Come in Sam." Sam blinked a few times, realizing that Dean was waving a hand in front of his face. Dean raised his eyebrows. "Where the hell were you just now?"

Sam shook his head, laying back down on his bed. "Thinking, sorry."

"I ordered some doughnuts and coffee," Dean said, sitting back down on his bed. "Alright?"

"Yeah, whatever," Sam whispered, staring up at the ceiling. He shivered slightly, remembering back to Jess. It was all his fault… "Maybe you should go get some ice or something from down the hall."

"For?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows. He was staring at Sam like he was going off the deep end.

"Because I heard that it's going to get hot today," Sam said quietly, still staring up at the ceiling.

"It's winter," Dean said slowly, still staring at his brother.

"Well… maybe a drink from the bar downstairs," Sam said, looking over at his brother. "Yeah?"

"Um…" Dean looked over at the door, actually considering this, before looking back at Sam. "First you want me to leave, then you don't want me to leave, then you want me to leave? Sam, I'm trying, but I'm not keeping up here."

"Sorry," Sam said, softly. "But, really, a few beers never hurt anyone."

"You barely ever drink," Dean said softly, knitting his brow. "Sam, what's up?"

"Nothing," Sam said, shrugging. "I just… I'm suddenly in the mood for beer… and ice. Is that a crime?"

"No, but it sure as hell ain't normal," Dean said, standing up. "Fine, I'll go get us some beers. I'll be right back."

Sam nodded, and watched his brother leave the room, still looking hesitant. He sighed in relief, then walked over to Dean's bed, grabbing the knife from under his pillow. It was all his fault. His mother died because she felt she had to protect him; she died because he was born. Jess died because he never told her the truth, and he didn't act on what his dream was telling him. Dean was going to die just because Sam was his little brother, and Sam had already caused him pain throughout the years. And his dad… well, his dad had never been proud of him, had never accepted him. It seemed the older man always hated his youngest son. Well… now he wouldn't have anyone to hate.

Sam walked into the bathroom and locked the door, staring at himself in the mirror. He had to do this. He had to end this trail of pain. This was the only solution.

Sam placed the knife on his wrist, hesitating for a moment. He then punctured his skin, wincing, before digging in deeper. He couldn't help but let out a soft cry of pain, before pulling the knife up close to his elbow. There. Now he could bleed, and hopefully would be dead before Dean got back… It was better this way. Everyone would just be… better.

Dean walked into the motel room five minutes later, three beers in his hands. He looked around the room quickly, not noticing Sam. His heart stopping, his breath catching in his throat, Dean slowly looked over at the bathroom door, noticing the light on. He knew Sam had wanted him out of the room for some reason!

Dean dropped the beers where he stood and ran over to the bathroom door, kicking it down. And there Sam was, a knife in his hand, his arm bleeding badly. Sam was already so pale as he sat on the seat, watching the blood drip onto the floor.

"Sam, give me the knife," Dean said calmly, walking over to his brother slowly.

"No," Sam said quickly, standing up. He held the knife in his hands, pointing it towards Dean. "Get out. Go. Just… go back to the bar, Dean."

"Sam, give me the knife," Dean repeated, with more force this time. He backed up slightly as Sam walked towards him, the knife outstretched.

"No." Sam swallowed hard, shaking his head. "This is the way it has to be. This way no one else gets hurt."

"Sam, please," Dean said, the beg slightly evident in his voice. "Just give me the knife. We can talk about this, alright? I'll get you help and then we'll talk about it."

"No," Sam whispered, looking even more pale than when Dean had stepped into the bathroom. "I don't want help. I just… I want it to end here, Dean. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Sam, if you die I swear I'll be in the worst pain anyone could cause me," Dean whispered, his eyes darting to Sam's arm, which was so bloody you couldn't tell where the wound began and the blood ended.

"No, that's a lie," Sam said quickly, shaking his head. "You'll be better off without me, Dean. You won't have to deal with me anymore; you won't be burdened."

"Sam, you're not a burden. You're my baby brother," Dean said softly, repeating what he had said the day before. He couldn't believe they were going back to this. Hadn't he convinced Sam of this already? His own eyes were pleading as he looked into his brother's. "Just give me the knife. Please just give me the knife, Sam. I can't lose you. I refuse to lose you."

Sam looked down at the knife, which fell from his hand. His eyes then shut slowly, and he almost fell to the ground, before Dean had caught him.

"Don't worry, Sammy, it's going to be okay," Dean whispered, holding his brother close. He felt for a pulse, and was relieved when he found his brother was still alive. After some effort, he managed to lift up his brother. He knew that Sam would never forgive him for taking him to the hospital, where doctors would probably make him see a therapist, but… at least Sam would be alive to hate him.

Haley: Ugh. No cable, no phone line, no internet… Damn these wind storms! What the hell is going on with America these days? I swear it was never this windy in past winters! So why now? Why this year? Huh, huh, huh?

Sam: Excuse Haley. She's a bit… upset.

Haley: You're damn right I'm upset! I've been without the internet for… Counts on fingers. … Eight and half hours! I'm going insane! I need the internet! I need my friends! I need… the freakin phone line to start working!

Sam: Haley, just… calm down. Take deep breaths and calm down.

Haley: I've only been sane for the last hour because I've been working on this chapter… Now I have to go to bed since it's half past midnight. If the phone lines aren't working in the morning I'll be so fucking pissed off.

Dean: And this coming from the girl who scolded her classmate for saying 'fuck.'

Haley: I only say it when I'm fucking pissed off, alright? So back off!

Sam: Um… Haley needs to go to bed now… So stay tuned!

Dean: If she kills you off I'll murder her in her sleep.

Sam: She already said herself that she can't kill her fanfics characters off. It's a weakness of hers.

Haley: I WANT MY PHONE LINE! I WANT MY INTERNET! I WANT MY CABLE! I WANT THESE FUCKING WIND STORMS TO STOP!

Sam: Um… Dean, you close. Takes Haley by the hand and leads her to her bed.

Dean: Uh… Review and tell me how hott you think I am! Bye!

Haley: Obviously I have my crap back or I wouldn't be on... but I was out my phone line for three days! Three stinkin days! Sob!