There is always this big question about life: Is life fair? Is there a reason for bad things which happen to us? Why some people's life is harder than others? Why most of the time awful things happen to those who don't deserve it.

No one knows why we are who we are, and why we are where we are, or why bad thing happen to us. So no one can say that life is fair.

oo0oo

Dean had enslaved Al in the basement of Mary's father house with the iron chains. His hope was to find a way to cure Sam before it was too late. He could kill Al after that, but right now he wasn't sure there was a cure.

If he couldn't find a way to cure Sam, then, he would make the deal with Al.

Making this decision wasn't an easy one; Dean had to watch Sam in pain until he found a way. It was likely that at the end, he would have to make the deal. His brother would be in pain until then - for no reason.

Sam begged him to kill Al on the spot.

Keeping Al until they found a way was the only thing Dean could do. He didn't want to make Sam feel any guiltier than he already did.

What else he could do? Dean knew how Sam felt; he knew Sam couldn't forgive himself if Al killed more innocent people. He knew Sam never could find someone else to blame, Sam would blame himself.

Dean knew Sam shouldn't blame himself, because it was the Yellow Eyed Demon who had killed their mother; he had killed Jess. Sam had done nothing. It wasn't Sam's fault that the Demon killed their grandparents and made their mother make a deal for their father's life. He wasn't even born yet when the YED had turned his world upside down. Well screw that…

As far as Sam was concerned he was a kid with a golden heart, he never wanted to harm anybody. Sam didn't have the spirit to kill a little ant while walking on the pavement. All of this had happened because Sam was special. It wasn't fair, he felt guilty for something that he hadn't any control over. It wasn't fair that they had to grow up without their mother, their father. And Dad, well, he'd told Dean to kill Sam - if he couldn't save him.

If there was a God, Dean thought, he wasn't a fair God.

oo0oo

Dean helped Sam upstairs in on of the empty bedrooms. He had taken his little brother's arm over his shoulder to help him walk. By the time they reached the bed Sam was panting harshly, a fine layer of sweat coating his face. They sat at the edge of the bed. Dean maneuvered Sam's arm over his head and helped him out of his jacket before laying him against the saggy mattress on his side.

Mary and Ann were down stairs, preparing some supplies to take care of Sam and find a way to cure him.

Dean touched Sam's forehead. He was burning up. Dean covered his little brothers shivering body with the blanket.

Sam closed his eyes. He didn't want to see his brother's face when he asked him to kill Al, maybe this way it was easier for him to make his decision and kill Al.

"Dean!"

"Yeah, Sammy. Do you need any thing?" Dean's voice was very concerned.

"Kill Al……. please." Sam begged.

"I will, after you get well."

"There isn't an antidote, you know it. You just want to make a deal with her to save me. You shouldn't Dean. She is going to kill people." Sam said with a trembling voice.

"What do you want me to do?" Dean asked sharply. "……You want me to let you die when I can save you?" his lower lip trembled.

Sam opened his eyes and looked his brother in the eye. His chest felt so tight that it was hard to talk. "What if she kills a mom and her children have to live like us….. without a mom…." He looked away. "Besides the world is a better place without me."

Dean looked Sam in eye. His eyes were filled with tear. There were six billion people in the world who had a chance of living normal, why didn't his brother get to? Tears fell from his eyes without even blinking.

"We save people's life Sammy…how…" His voice hitched. "How is your death going to make this stupid planet a better place?….." He paused. "What should I do to spend a day without any affliction? Why should we suffer each and every day?" Dean asked himself, he didn't realize he had said it out loud.

His life was a living hell after their father's death. He not only had to deal with the fact that his father went to hell for him, he had to listen to his father voice in his head telling him to kill the most important person in his life if he couldn't save him every hour and minute of day. He had thought when he killed YED everything would be alright, so not true. Now they had to deal with a whole new level of problems. Their life had always gotten harder, not easier.

Sam started crying. He was the reason of his brother's sufferings. All the other children bring joy for their family; he had always brought misery to his family, even before he was born. "I'm sorry." He sniffed and continued crying.

Dean leaned toward Sam. The younger Winchester hooked his arms around Dean and held him tightly.

Dean put his arms around Sammy's waist and pulled him in a hug.

They sat on the bed, Sam's head on Dean's shoulder and Dean's head on Sam's.

"It's not your fault Sammy. It's not…" Dean trailed off, crying harder.

oo0oo

Mary and Ann were running all around the house gathering things. Ann took the first aid kit, one extra blanket and Sam's laptop. Mary gathered all the books and copies they had researched earlier that day. They had to go through them again, maybe they could find something.

They both went upstairs with the things they had gathered in their hands. Mary was about to knock when she heard the boys talking.

"What if she kills a mom and her children have to live like us….. without a mom…. besides the world is a better place without me."

"We save people's life Sammy…how… How is your death going to make this stupid planet a better place….. What should I do to spend a day without any affliction? Why should we suffer each and every day?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault Sam. It's not…"

Mary looked at Ann who was trying hard to keep her emotions at bay. She sighed hearing Sam and Dean's crying in the room.

Ann wanted to start sobbing right there, but she had promised herself she would never cry in front of others and show her weakness. She put the blanket with the first aid kit and the laptop on top of it on the floor and went down stairs quietly. She couldn't see them like this, she wasn't strong enough.

Mary waited a few more minutes and then knocked.

oo0oo

Mary was sitting at a small table at the corner of room going through the books and copies uselessly. Dean was sitting on a chair beside Sam's bed.

Sam was in a restless sleep, just because Dean had drugged him with some heavy pain killers.

Dean brushed Sam's damp hair away from his eyes and put another ice pack on his forehead.

Sam tossed his head to escape from the icy cold offending object. Dean kept the ice pack in place by his right hand and put his left hand on Sam's shoulder to comfort him. If Sam's fever rose higher he would have a convulsion and this wasn't something Dean wanted to deal with right now.

Sam coughed weakly and tossed his head again. "kil'her De…(cough) ….Deeeaa… please. … (Cough)(Cough)…..no!…."

"Sam!" Dean called hesitantly. He wasn't sure Sam was having a nightmare or he was coherent enough to ask him to kill Al. Not that he was going to listen to him and kill Al, but he needed to be sure Sam wasn't caught in a ruthless nightmare.

Sam rolled to his side toward Dean and coughed again, this time it was stronger. Within a few seconds his breathing got faster and he started to wheeze. It was obvious breathing was getting harder for him.

"Sam, wake up!"

Dean put the ice pack on the night stand and turned Sam to his back so he could breathe easier. Sam took a deep breath just to start coughing again. He tried to take a breath in between the coughs, but his efforts were cut short by another cough. His face turned red and his lips began to turn blue.

Dean was lost; he didn't know what to do to ease his brother's pain.

"Help him sit, it helps him." Mary said as he was walking closer.

Dean helped Sam to sit up and tried to soothe him by rubbing his back in circles.

One of Sam's hands was over his mouth and another on his chest fisting his T-shirt tightly. His chest was on fire like he was inhaling acid. He wanted to tell his brother to help him and take away the pain; the problem was the coughing wouldn't let him breathe, let alone talk. He tried to grab Dean's arm in a pointless attempt to make him understand.

Dean felt that Sam needed him when he grabbed his arm. "Sam, try to calm down and take a deep breath….."

Sam tried, but the result of his hard attempt was just a few half inhales of air to his burning lungs. He was losing this battle; his starved oxygen brain was giving up. His vision blurred, his head throbbed and soon the merciful darkness claimed him once again.

Dean sat up on the bed beside Sam. He pulled his little brother close. Sam put his head on his brother's chest as he went limp in his arms.

Sam's hand fell limply to the covers.

Dean looked at Sam's face. There was blood around his blue lips and on his pale skin. Another drop of blood fell through his lips and rolled down on his chin.

"I don't think so, unless you want your brother to taste his own blood before he dies with excruciating pain…" The Al's voice echoed in his head over and over again.

Dean cleaned his brother's face and palm which were also bloody with the Kleenex that Mary had handed him. He so wanted to run to the basement and make the deal with Al and save his brother, but he ignored his heart and tried to obey his mind.

"Did you find something?" he asked Mary without looking at her.

"There is something about Al's powers in a paper, but nothing about the poison." Mary answered sadly. "There are a few old sources, I hadn't looked at….there are so many old words in it, I need a Persian dictionary to look up the words. Ann is checking the rest of the sources, she's much smarter than me, I'm sure she'll find something." She tried to comfort Dean.

Dean looked at Sam's pained face to check his breathing. It was slow, but still there. Sam's lips were turning a somehow normal color again.

Dean took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He didn't know how much longer he could take this situation and stay cool.

oo0oo

Ann was down stairs sitting at a table near the window. There were many copied pages and open books in front of her on the table. She went through the last page of all they could find about Al for the second time.

Nothing.

Nothing that could help Sam.

How she was supposed go upstairs and tell someone who had saved her life she couldn't do anything to help.

She couldn't.

She looked through window; the glass was foggy with a mist of dew. Must be a cold night.

And it was. It was another cruel cold night in her life. She went to the window and sat at the edge. She raised her pointing finger and drew an eye on the damped window.

She would do anything to help Sam.

She heard Sam's painful coughing and wished she was deaf. She thought about how nice Sam was and wished she had never seen him. Why did she always get something just to lose it painfully. It wasn't fair.

The eye that she had drawn on the window started to melt, the first drop of water rolled down the window from the corner of the eye. Even the eye on the window was crying, because it just wasn't fair.

She would do anything to save Sam. After all it was her fault that Sam was poisoned. Why would Sam die instead of her? At least he had some one who loved him and needed him. He had Dean. She was pretty sure every one around her would forget her death after a few days. Even her cold hearted uncaring family.

Big tears fell from her eyes. It was better if she died.

If Sam and Dean were so nice that they couldn't let Al go, she would do it for them. It was time she did a useful deed in her pathetic life. Maybe her life could mean something this way.

Ann made up her mind. Sam couldn't die like this. She stood up and cleaned her teary face with her slim fingers. She took the gun Dean had given to her that afternoon and headed toward the basement.

TBC

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