Here's the next chapter—I had a lot of fun with this one…enjoy!

"Don't worry, Dean." Leandra said, "Your pathetic life will be all over soon…"

Sam raised the gun and aimed.

"Sorry Sam." Dean whispered, averting his eyes.

Sam fired.

Dean jerked at the sound of the gunshot, waiting for the pain—

It never came.

Leandra let out a shriek beside him. Dean's eyes snapped up and stared at her—there was a bullet hole right between her eyes.

Breathing heavily, she gazed right through him, eyes wide from the shock of what had happened. She drew in one final shaky breath and then collapsed in a heap on the ground.

Dean stared at her body for a moment, and then slowly turned to look at Sam.

Sam had the gun held loosely down at his side. For a moment they just stared at each other.

"What—how—" Dean demanded, unsure of what he was even asking.

Sam winced. "I gained full control while she was arguing with you…but I figured the best thing to do would be to pretend that I…well…that I was going to shoot you."

"Oh." Dean said.

"I wanted to let you know what was going on, but—"

"You couldn't without her finding out too." Dean finished, looking away. "I get it, Sam."

Sam didn't move, he just continued staring at his brother. "Dean…you thought I was going to kill you…and you didn't even try to stop me."

Dean cringed inwardly. "Yeah I did—"

"No," Sam interrupted forcefully. "You didn't."

They stood there silently for another moment, and then Sam spoke up again, hesitantly, "Dean…you weren't actually listening to what she was saying, were you? You didn't actually believe it?"

"No." Dean said, a little too quickly. "Of course not."

"Dean…she was making stuff up to upset you…"

"Was she?" Dean spoke up bitterly, finally looking up at him. "Sam, I—just admit it. She was right…all I ever do is drag you down deeper and deeper into…" he trailed off and waved his arms around, "…all this shit."

Sam raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Okay, just stop." He said firmly. "There are so many things wrong with that last statement that it's just ridiculous."

"What?"

"Well, honestly Dean, you're making it sound as though you force me to stick around—"

"I—"

"Look, would you just stop talking for a second and listen to me?" Sam interrupted briskly, watching as Dean frowned and looked away. "You don't force me to stick around—I want to stick around. I am perfectly capable of leaving anytime I want—I just don't want to!"

"That doesn't make any sense, Sam!" Dean broke in.

"Yeah, Dean, it does, and if you were paying attention you would see that."

"No Sammy, I—"

BANG

The loud crack of the gunshot echoed in the small hotel room.

Silence.

Dean froze mid-sentence, his lips still slightly parted, startled.

Sam stared back at him, wide eyed.

As though in a dream, Dean slowly brought his hand up from his side and gently touched his chest, pulling his hand back slowly so that he could see it.

Crimson blood trickled down his fingers.

He opened his mouth to speak, but a harsh cough broke free in place of words, and as he struggled to draw another breath the floor seemed to drop out from under him.

Sam watched his brother collapse in front of him—but he did nothing.

Eyes wide, horrified, he stared, the gun still smoking in his shaking hand.

Inside he was screaming—but he couldn't make a sound.

He watched as Dean slowly managed to raise his head off the ground and stare up at him, confusion and pain evident in his gaze. "S-sam?" he choked.

And oh—God—the look in his eyes—

Sam raised the gun a second time. Aimed right between his brother's eyes at point-blank range.

Dean blinked hard, trying to force his vision to clear. Once the spinning room calmed down a fraction, he opened his green eyes again. He stared back at Sam, saw his brother's wide, horrified gaze, saw the tears trickling down his face, and saw the barrel of the gun pointed at his head. And in that moment he realized what was happening. "It's okay, Sammy…" he whispered weakly. "I know it's not you."

Sam felt his finger tightening on the trigger.

Dean grinned faintly. "Love you, little brother."

BANG

Sam watched it all happen as though it was in slow motion. He watched the bullet leave the gun. He watched as it hit its mark right in the center of his brother's forehead. He watched as Dean's body fell back lifelessly.

He watched, but he didn't believe.

"Nooooooooo—" he wailed, unaware that the tortured sound was even coming from his own lips. Suddenly free to move again, he dropped the gun and dashed over to his brother's side, willing it not to have happened—

But Dean was motionless, his eyes frozen and staring at nothing, blood pooling from a small hole in the center of his forehead.

He was dead.

Dead.

"No." Sam whispered, tears pouring down his cheeks. "No no no no—" sobbing, he rested his head on his brother's chest, feeling his comforting warmth for the last time, breathing in the scent of his leather jacket. "Dean…noo…"

"I'm disappointed in you, Sam." A voice said in his ear. "I expected more."

Sam blinked and his head shot up. Leandra was standing next to him, gazing at him critically.

"You—" Sam yelled back, hatred pulsing through him as he leapt to his feet. "You killed him—you—you bitch!"

"No, Sam, I didn't kill him. You did."

Sam didn't respond to her empty accusation. He couldn't. How could he have let this get so far? How could he have let this happen? Trembling with anger, sorrow, horror, despair, and a thousand other emotions, he just stood there, torn between ripping her apart and throwing up.

"Finally speechless?" Leandra said softly. "Good. It's going to be okay, Sam. I know you're angry, but you don't need your brother." She reached out and grabbed his hand. "I'm all you'll ever need."

Sam pulled his hand back as though he'd been burned. "No."

Her eyes flashed. "Don't fight me, Sam. You'll lose."

"…lose what? I've already lost everything…" He whispered inaudibly, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Her eyes narrowed. "What?"

He looked back up at her, using his hand to try to wipe away some of his tears. "I said I've already lost everything." He repeated numbly.

Leandra nodded. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you—we'll be happy together."

Sam shook his head. "I don't think you understood me…I've lost everything."

"You already said that." Leandra said testily. "I heard you."

"Bring him back." Sam said, his voice expressionless.

"No." she said simply. "I don't want to, and even if I did I don't have that kind of power."

"You can…" Sam said dangerously. "You can. This is your world…the one you created."

Leandra sighed. "Sam, I realize that this is difficult for you, but—"

"Bring him back."

"No."

"Bring him back!"

"I won't!"

Sam advanced toward her menacingly. "YES YOU WILL!!" he yelled at the top of his voice. All of the windows in the room shattered at once, showering the room with shards of glass.

Leandra gasped, stepping backwards fearfully. "Sam…I…I can't…"

"Liar…" Sam spat, continuing to walk towards her.

Leandra backed up until she was against the wall. She was terrified of the man in front of her. The sweet, soft-spoken man was gone, replaced by something far, far worse. His eyes were wild, cold, cruel. Sam Winchester was gone.

The world around them was blurring; darkness, light, darkness, light—

"What are you doing?" Leandra demanded frantically. It had all spiraled out of her control—somehow he was taking over her world. She doubled over in pain as her head felt like it was being split open. "Stop it!"

"Bring him back."

"I can't!" she sobbed. "Oh God Sam, I can't! Please—"

Sam angrily flung his arm to the side and Leandra was hurled across the room like a rag doll. She hit the wall with a sickening thud and fell in a heap on the floor. Sam walked toward her, watching her as she moaned and struggled to get up. "Having fun?" he said cruelly.

"Sam…please…" Leandra whimpered.

"Just do what I want you to do…and I'll leave you alone."

"I can't! I don't have that kind of power!" She protested.

Sam opened his mouth to respond, but a movement outside the broken windows caught his eye. He turned slightly and saw a pack of fifty wolves waiting outside the hotel. "Called in the cavalry, have you?"

Leandra remained where she was, curled up in a ball on the floor. "Sam, you have to stop this. You're not acting like yourself—"

"You killed my brother," Sam said with a laugh, "How can you lecture me about how I act?"

"Dean wouldn't want—"

"You don't have any damn idea what Dean would want!" Sam broke in angrily. "No one does—he's dead!"

The wolves outside the window all jumped in onto the broken glass one by one, snarling and snapping their jaws as they circled around their prey. Sam didn't move, he just stared at the fifty blood thirsty animals, thinking. "Is this all you've got for me, Leandra?" he questioned, a frightening smile on his face, "Wolves?"

The first wolf leapt, but before it even touched him Sam flicked his wrist and sent it flying into the opposite wall. It whimpered and slowly got back to its feet. Sam eyed the rest of the wolves, daring them to move.

They all leapt at once, burying Sam in one heavy mass of muscle, bone, and snapping jaws.

Sam felt the beasts on him. He felt their claws and teeth digging deep and tearing into his flesh like it was paper. "No!" he gasped, trying to break free. It was impossible, he couldn't move, couldn't breathe. There was nothing but pain. Deep, torturous pain, pain that shot straight through him. Everything else was extinguished, every last element of him that made him Sam was gone, leaving nothing at all. Nothing but—rage.

An inhumane shriek erupted from his throat and he jumped to his feet, hurling the wolves as a giant mass across the room and into the wall with sickening force. They fell to the ground and lied still, whimpering, watching him—afraid.

Breathing hard, Sam looked around the room, searching for—"Leandra."

Leandra was sitting on a bed in the middle of the room. Her messy blond hair framing her face in thick wispy strands of gold, her eyes wide with fear. "Who…who are you?" she whispered.

Sam didn't say anything for a long while. He stood there, bleeding from every square inch on his body, the flesh ripped away to the bone in multiple places. "You know who I am." He said coldly.

"No. I don't." Leandra said simply, the look on her face a mixture of terror and awe. "I thought I did—I thought—but you fooled me. They were right…about you. You're the one, Sam. You're the one that will lead us."

Please REVIEW and tell me what you're thinking! Ideas are welcome, and feedback keeps me motivated to update!