Disclaimer:Don't own any of the characters or anything you recongize from the SPN show.

A.N: As I said last chapter due to unforeseen circumstances seems we'll get an extra chapter here, but as I continued to revise and reedit for some reason the Winchesters had more to say. So, this long chapter is broken up into two extra chapters.

So let's watch (or rather read) and see what's going on with Dean and Sam now. This was not my doing, it just happened. Lol ;p (After writing this chapter, a fun fact: count how many times Sam sighed in this. It's hilarious.)

Also, once again thanks for all the support on this story!! I was shocked that things kept pouring it so soon after I uploaded this story! You all make me happy! ^__^

Summary:Tag to 5x14- My Bloody Valentine. How was he going to fix Sam when he couldn't even fix himself? Sequel to fanfic: From Laughter to Desperation. Major DepressiveDean, AngstLimp Sam, SupportativeCastiel N Bobby

Chapter 9: I can't

Dean was still protesting against…….

Wait.......what was he protesting against?

This unexpected turn of events stunned Sam. What was going through his brother's mind now?

"Dean?" he asked questioningly.

"I can't do it, Sam. I won't do it", Dean said shrugging, still not looking down at Sam.

"Can't do what? Won't do what?" Sam asked his eyes still big. Well, as big as they could be since he was still feeling a little ill. He found he had to shift his neck uncomfortably to see his brother.

"I can't…..I just can't….." Dean repeated.

"Dean, please man. I don't know what you are talking about." Sam said a little helplessly.

"You aren't supposed to know Sam. I can't….you know I really, really……can't." Dean reiterated.

Sam sighed. He wished he felt a little better to try to decipher Dean's hidden message. "You can't what? Can't tell me something, can't jump, can't drive…..what?"

Dean glared down at him. "I can't…." he repeated.

Sam sighed and looked back at the ceiling. This was getting nowhere fast. He turned his head to the back of the couch and closed his eyes. This was hopeless.

"Open your eyes, Sam…..keep them open", came a soft order.

"I gotta sleep sometime, Dean", Sam said not obeying.

"Not at present moment. Open your eyes, Sam", Dean said.

Sam sighed once again and cracked his eyes open but did not turn his head. His sighing was coming habitual now.

"Dean, I'm tired, man. If you don't want to talk then go away and let me sleep", Sam stated a little snappish. He was sick of trying to figure out which way Dean was going. If he didn't want to talk fine, he didn't have to. Sam was sick and he was tired and he wanted to sleep, darn it!

"How is he?" came a deep voice.

"Aside from the fact this jerk won't let me sleep, I'm fine. Can you people, please get lost! Go play in the fields somewhere", Sam growled as best he could as he shifted his glaze to the ceiling.

Dean rolled his eyes and Castiel looked between the two confused. "I thought you two were making progress?" he asked.

"We were, until someone kept saying that he can't, but like the jerk he is, he won't say what he can't do or say or whatever!!" Sam hissed.

Castiel turned his piercing glaze to Dean who looked at him indignantly. "I know what I'm doing", he found he had to growl out to counter Castiel's glaze.

"Apparently, you do not", Castiel countered softly.

Dean opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"Now, can I sleep, please?" Sam whined now.

"NO!" Dean cried.

"Why not?"

"We are merely concerned that Lucifer would use this time to strike as he did moments ago, either your subconscious dreaming him up or he himself. You do seem a little better though." Castiel observed.

Sam snorted.

"What is that suppose to mean?" Dean said.

"It's a snort, Dean. It doesn't mean anything." Sam sulked.

"With you it means something. Now, I'm not gonna ask you again, what does that mean?"

"What does you saying, you can't, mean?" Sam shot back.

The two brothers glared at each other, neither backing down. Castiel sighed. "Look, you two need to get yourselves together. We are at war and do not have time to for you all's petty arguments."

"Petty" both chorused turning their glare two the rogue angel.

"Yes, petty, you idjits", Bobby agreed as he rolled in. "I thought we were making progress."

"We were, until Dean started with his, I can't routine and like the macho he-man he thinks he is, he won't tell me what the heck it means!" Sam cried.

"I just told you, I can't. Can't you leave it alone?" Dean implored.

"NO!! Cause you know what, I'm sick and tired of dealing with your mood swings this week!! You stand there and say you aren't mad at me. Okay fine, then you say you are mad at yourself but won't man up and tell me why! So guess what, I'm sticking with you are mad at me and can't come up with a reasonable excuse as to deny it!" Sam was breathing hard as tears re-gathered in his eyes, making them wet.

"Isn't my word, enough?" Dean asked.

"NO, cause actions speak louder than words. Remember that third grade concept", Sam snapped turning his face to the back of the couch, staring at the pattern.

"Castiel, would you?" Bobby asked nodding to Dean.

"Certainly."

Dean felt a swift hit on the back of his head. He rubbed the back of his head and glared at Castiel and Bobby in turn.

"Thank you, I'd do it myself, but you know……handicapped and all", Bobby said with a nod of thanks to the angel.

Dean lowered his hand only to be hit by Castiel again. "That was from me……personally", the angel said. Obviously he had spent waaaay too much time with Bobby this past week. Bobby snorted with laughter.

"Look you idjit, just tell your brother, otherwise I'll do it for you", Bobby said, his brief amusement dying down.

"You wouldn't?" Dean growled.

"Watch me."

"Dean, this is pointless. Sam already knows what the Famine said to you, about you being dead inside." Castiel stated.

Dean turned to Castiel violently. "What?"

Castiel cocked his head and asked, "That is what you can't do, isn't it? Tell him."

"What?" Dean repeated.

"We told him last night. When he was panicking and you did nothing, by the way." Bobby couldn't help but grill that in that the moment as he elaborated.

"But, I listened to your conversation. I was on the stairs." Dean revealed.

"Really? For how long?"

Dean was silent. He had made it up to his room only to throw things around before trekking back down the stairs intending to rip the others down some more in his anger. That was when he came back in time to hear Sam's words:

But he isn't dying right?

And from there he heard the rest of the conversation.

"Then, why….why didn't you say you knew?" Dean asked softly looking back at Sam.

"Saying, I can't, implies a lot of things Dean", Sam mocked as well as he could.

"But you knew why I was mad at myself?" Dean persisted.

"No, cause contrary to popular opinion, I'm not a mind reader. I had an inkling it had something to do with it, but I was waiting for you to tell me." Sam sighed once more, his eyes drifting close.

"Open your eyes Sam", Dean ordered without missing a beat and lowered himself back down to sit in front of the couch. He studied Sam as he continued, "Wait, even if you had an inkling why didn't you speak up man?"

Bobby had rolled himself out followed by Castiel. Apparently they were needed to help move things along. Bobby was tired after all this. He would sleep for a week, the first chance he got. The emotional energy spent alone this past week was taxing and for as close the boys were they could be utterly clueless sometimes.

"Some things, a person needs to admit for themselves, not have a person force words or thoughts in their mouth", Sam murmured.

TBC…..

A.N: Apparently, Sam blew his top. I know we all love Dean but for some reason he always makes things harder. . He's so stubborn. Thank God for Castiel and Bobby huh?

Short chapter. Next one is longer. :)