My gosh, I seem to have hit a nerve with this story. Thank you to all who are reading, I really appreciate it. Here is the bonus chapter as promised. I hope you like it.

Cindy.

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Dean awoke slowly, finding it hard to open his eyes. There was a drumline playing in his head and he wondered if he'd had that much fun last night. He couldn't remember much, but the last time he'd felt like this he'd had ten too many shot's and collected twenty too many phone numbers from girls he couldn't remember.

"Sammy! What the hell did I drink last night? I feel like shit!" he croaked as he slit one eye open and glanced at the clock. "Shit! It's 3:30?"

Dean waited for Sam to stir, but hoped he hadn't disturbed him this early. When he didn't hear Sam, he closed his eyes again and fell back to sleep. Another few hours later Dean awoke again. The headache had dulled and he felt as though he could probably sit up without falling off the bed. It was still dark outside, but he was able to discern that he was still fully clothed. Images flashed through his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 'Those were some freaky, messed up dreams last night,' Dean thought, a bit disturbed by the memories.

"Hey Sam! Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty!" Dean shouted, not turning to look at his brother's bed. When he didn't get a response, he suddenly realized that Sam was completely silent. He couldn't even hear Sam's soft snore. He turned his head toward Sam's bed, and sucked in a quick breath when he saw Sam's bed was empty and had not been slept in. He looked toward the bathroom but saw the door was open and the light was off.

Dean pulled himself up from his bed, reaching over at the same time and switching on the light. Not only was Sam not there, but all of his belongings were gone too. Everything except his laptop. A realization hit and he had to sit before his legs gave out on him. "That wasn't a bad dream. I really said those things to Sam," he whispered to himself.

Bile rose in his throat and he barely made it to the bathroom before he was vomiting the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He continued retching, and when he was finally done, he sat up, leaning against the tub, exhaustion keeping him from rising. He lowered his head and rested it on his knees then wrapped his arms around his legs. He was on the verge of tears, the words he'd said last night ringing through his mind.

He remembered the look of devastation on Sam's face when he told him that he hated him, that he blamed him. He'd told Sam that he wished he had never been born. Then he remembered the last thing Sam had said before he walked out into the cold. 'I love you Dean. Always have, always will.' And Dean had answered back, 'I hate you.'

"Oh my God Sammy! What have I done?" Dean whispered, then he let the tears fall.

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Sam trudged on, head down, paying no attention to anything around him. He had completely shut down, his mind wandering from one inane thought to the next. He was unaware of the tears that continued to fall, even as they nearly froze on his face. He was brought back to reality when he accidentally ran into someone with his shoulder.

"Watch it dickhead!" the man snarled, grabbing Sam's arm and spinning him around.

Sam looked up at the man and whispered a soft apology. The man looked familiar, but for the life of him, Sam couldn't remember where he had seen him.

Recognition lit the man's eyes as a sinister smile crossed his face. "Well, if it isn't the little pool hustler!" the man hissed, glaring at Sam before glancing at the two large men that were with him.

"Oh come on," Sam said when he realized where he had seen the man before.

"So, where's your little boyfriend kid?" the man asked, then noticed Sam's tears. "Oh look, he's crying. Did your boyfriend dump you sweetheart?"

"He's not my boyfriend, he's my brother! Just leave him out of this!" Sam spat.

"Okay, okay! Don't have a hissy fit Sparky!"

"Just leave me alone."

"I don't think so. You have something of mine and I intend to get it back!"

"I beat you fair and square, you're just a sore loser asshole!" Sam hissed.

Without warning, the man grabbed Sam's hair and drove his fist into Sam's face, splitting his lip and causing blood to spurt from his nose. Sam stumbled back, spitting blood out onto the sidewalk. Strong arms grabbed him by his arms and began to drag him from the sidewalk to the side of the building they were in front of. Sam struggled, trying to free himself, but the two men holding him were almost his height and much bigger than him. They dragged him until they were behind the building and out of sight.

"Hold him still!" the man spat then rammed his knee into Sam's stomach so hard that Sam couldn't catch his breath. He felt bile rise in his throat, but swallowed it down, refusing to give the man the satisfaction of seeing him vomit. The man grabbed Sam by the hair again, lifting his face up before hissing, "You're so going to regret ever meeting me boy!"

Another punch landed on Sam's jaw, jerking his head to the side violently and causing his vision to swim. The arms holding him suddenly let him go, but he was able to remain on his feet, barely. He tried to fight back, but his heart wasn't in it. What was the point? His life meant nothing now, and maybe this was exactly what he deserved. He dropped to his knees and a kick to the back took him down the rest of the way.

All three men began to pummel Sam, first with their fists then with well placed kicks to his ribs and stomach. Sam lay on the ground, barely conscious, his body jerking with each impact. He rolled to his side, no longer able to keep from vomiting.

The man leaned over Sam and pulled his wallet from his pocket, pulling the money from it, before tossing it against the building. Next, he removed Sam's watch and the ring that was a gift from Jessica. The other two men dug through Sam's duffel bag, withdrawing his hunting knife, one of them stuffing it into his coat pocket.

"Come on, let's get the hell out of here!" the man from the bar shouted to his goons. He gave Sam one more kick before leaving him bloody and broken on the cold ground.

Sam lay for a moment before he rolled to his stomach and tried to push himself up. Nausea washed over him again and he dropped back down, his retching sending sharp pains through his entire body.

"Mmmm...God!" he gasped when the retching ceased.

Dark spots formed in his vision, and he rolled to his back. The pain in his stomach and ribs was overwhelming and he welcomed the darkness as it claimed him.

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There you go. I hope you all liked it. And as always, reviews are love. More tomorrow.

Cindy.