Legalities: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW Network. I am not making any money from this. I am simply playing in the amazing sandbox that is the Supernatural Universe.

Warnings: This is my take on what would have been bad enough to send Sam into a confessional as a child. Taken from a comment made by Sam in the season 8 finale "Sacrifice".

It's unabashed hurt Winchester. Dean suffers because of a choice that Sam makes in a moment of selfish anger. Will he get the chance to make things right before Dean is destroyed forever? Can their father put aside his own obsessive anger and his need to hunt long enough to track down both Sam and Dean? Or will his obsession destroy his sons.

If you do not like the violence, then DO NOT read this story. It revolves around the brothers and their relationship and this idea wouldn't leave me alone. So here is my take on the one and only time Sam confessed his greatest sins.

Rating: T with possible upgrade to MA at a later point if it takes a really dark turn.

NO SLASH/ BROTHERLY LOVE AND FAMILY ANGST ONLY

Please Review if you want to see this one continue. Didn't get a chance to proof this one...don't kill me for the grammatical errors, I type fast and words get missed. I'll try to correct that later on. But here's the chapter.

Chapter Twelve

After Effects

Sam felt the shivers run through his brother's body as the seizure started. The feeling of Dean's body clenching and tightening, the bucking as his muscles contracted and extended were the most terrifying thing that the youth had ever felt. For a moment he forgot about his own pain and rolled off Dean in an effort to see what was going on more clearly. His panicked gaze flashed up and met the equally concerned eyes of their father. The man was leaning against the bars, his fingers wrapped tightly around the black iron.

"Dad…what do I do?" Sam whispered as Dean's body suddenly relaxed and his arms flailed to the side. A tentative hand reached up and brushed the sweaty blonde hair off Dean's forehead.

John shook his head as the sadness rolled through him. "Just keep talking to him, Sam. That's all you can do." His blue gaze flickered over to where Bobby had run up the stairs. "Bobby's coming, Sam."

Sam nodded and looked down again. Dean's eyes were flickering back and forth beneath his closed eyelids. But he wasn't awake…not even close. "Dean?" His voice was soft and worried. "I owe you the biggest apology on the planet. But I want to…" He pulled in an unsteady breath. "No…I need you to hear that…so I'm gonna wait until you're awake." His fingers continued brushing through his brother's hair. It was the only way he could think to let Dean know that he was there.

The pain in his leg was bearable…at the moment. Probably because he wasn't moving much. But he knew that it wasn't going to be that way for long. The compound fracture was a big freaking problem. Chances for infection were going up exponentially the longer the bone remained protruding from the skin. All his training told him this…but he couldn't bring himself to care past watching Dean.

Bobby came rushing back, the welding torched in one hand and the medical kit in the other. "How are they?" He asked as he set the stuff down.

Both Sam and John looked over at him and then back at Dean and the dead men inside the ring with them. "We're okay for a moment." Sam replied.

Dean continued to remain stubbornly unconscious and Sam kept his silent vigil as Bobby and John cut through the thick bars. Neither hunter said much of anything to the other as they tried desperately to deal with the fact that they had no clue what exactly they were going to be dealing with here. They were aware that Dean had been injected with some sort of drug concoction. And that it likely to have caused either potential problems with addiction, or who know what level of psychological damage.

After what felt like days, the last bar fell and John was able to rush inside the cage and drop to his knees in front of Sam and Dean. He reached out with a hesitant hand and laid it on Dean's forehead. Sam's eyebrows cut downward as he watched his father's face fall.

"He's burning up." John said simply. His blue gaze dropped to Sam's busted leg. "Bobby?" He called.

"Yeah?"

"Bring me the medical kit. We gotta stint that leg before we can move Sam."

Bobby was in front of Sam in a moment. He set the large bag down and then frowned when he got his first good look at Dean. "He ain't looking too good." He knew that it was a statement of the obvious. But he didn't care.

"No. No he isn't." John answered quickly.

XXXX

Dean finished sawing off the end of the shotgun. It hit the floor with a resounding 'clink' and he smiled. His ten-year-old hands wrapping proudly around the gun. He'd never done this before and his father had been worried about him using the old shotgun to practice on. But Dean had stated his case. He'd been out hunting with his father for two years and he was always in charge of Sam's safety. So it seemed reasonable that he learn how to modify the weapons the same way their father would.

His green eyes flickered over to where Sam was watching cartoons. His fingers were busy coloring at the same time and a small smile was pulling at the corners of his lips. Dean couldn't help the smile that inched onto his face as he watched Sam color inside the lines…perfectly. Even at six years old the kid was a perfectionist. Had to get everything right the first time. It was kinda funny and a little bit disturbing, because Dean knew that his little brother was definitely destined for greater things. But how could Sam ever have more than a hunter's life? Particularly with everything that they knew.

Dean blew out a low breath and turned back to his shotgun. He got busy filing the edges down smooth, so that the shells would exit the barrel cleanly. He knew that spurs inside the barrel with the number one reason not only for misfires, but also for injuries to the shooter. Every time their father spoke, Dean was very careful to listen and catalog the information for later use.

Their father was out on a hunt, he was supposed to be back first thing in the morning and Dean was in charge until then. It was the dead of winter in Wyoming and the wind was howling outside the tiny motel with a vengeance. There wasn't any snow falling, but the existing four feet was blasting the small front window and it was making Dean worry. He knew that they needed their father to get back. He didn't have enough food for more than two maybe three meals.

He put Sam to bed and set the salt line, like he'd been taught. Then Dean had crawled into the bed with Sam and fallen asleep. A cold hand on his cheek was the next thing that he remembered.

"I'm cold, Dean." Sammy's small voice was almost covered by the clattering of his teeth. He was shaking and had scooted even closer to Dean.

Dean blinked a few times and then sat up. "I think the heats out." He said before climbing out of the warm'ish bed and padding over to the large heater. He placed his small hand over the vents and groaned when he didn't feel any heat what so ever coming out of it. 'Crap.' He thought. It took a moment for him to realize that the lights weren't on either. "I think the power might be out, Sam." He said before he returned to the bed.

"But it's too cold…when's dad coming back?" Sam had pulled the blankets up under his chin, his eyes wide and worried.

Dean looked over at the other bed and grabbed the blankets. "Here wrap up in these too." He threw them onto Sam's still form.

"Hey!" His little brother cried indignantly.

"What? You said you were cold." He said with a laugh. It was pretty funny watching Sam climb out of the blankets; his brown hair all messed up. Dean crawled back into the bed with his brother and they huddled under the mounds of blankets. Sam finally relaxed back into sleep and Dean sighed in gratitude. His little brother's tiny body was no longer shaking with the cold. But Dean didn't fall asleep…because what would happen in the morning if the power was still out? And what about their father?

The young Winchester had so many worries floating through his head that he couldn't stop them long enough to sleep. So instead he listened to Sam breathe. The gentle lull of his baby brother's breathing finally did what Dean could not…it allowed him to sleep.

The next morning Dean was startled awake when Sam jumped on him. "The lights are back on, Dean!" He cried happily.

'Well that explains why I'm roasting to death.' Dean thought quietly. He shoved his way out from beneath the covers and walked to the fridge. There was less than a cup of milk left in the carton and one apple. That was the sum total of their food. He ground his teeth together and moved to the cabinet. One box of mac and cheese and a single serving of fruit loops. That was it…there was no other food in this place. Dean pulled in a long slow breath and ignored the rumble of his own stomach as he pulled the cereal out and then moved to get the milk. He set both items on the small wooden table and then turned to the strainer on the counter.

"Breakfast, Sammy." He called as he set the bowl and spoon near one of the two chairs.

Sam came running in the room, his face lit up in a grin as he climbed into the chair. It only took a moment for the overly observant child to realize that there was only one bowl at the table. "Where's yours?" He asked innocently.

Dean looked away from the puppy-dog eyes when he answered. "I…I'm not hungry…you eat." He poured Sam's cereal and hoped that his little brother wouldn't hear the growls of his stomach.

Three days later-

"I don't want mac and cheese!" The six year old whined. "I want a hamburger or some spaghetti."

Dean swallowed the saliva that filled his mouth at the mere mention of a hamburger. He hadn't eaten in three days and he'd rationed Sam's food as much as he dared. But now they were down to the last of the mac and cheese. He'd had to water it down since there was no milk and no butter. It was probably terrible, but he knew that it was better than feeling the way he felt. When he'd woken up that morning, he'd been light headed and dizzy.

He'd tried to drink a bunch of water in the hopes that it would fill the void in his stomach. It didn't. Dean had tried to call their father on the emergency numbers that he always left. No answer…and now he was scared.

"It's all we have and you need to eat." Dean said tiredly.

Sam pouted, his arms folded over his small chest obstinately. "You don't eat." He said.

Dean was caught off guard that Sam had noticed and then he was irritated that his brother had mentioned it to him. "So? I'm bigger…I don't need to eat as much as you."

"That's stupid, Dean. Everyone needs to eat." Sam shot back.

"Sam! Just eat the damn food!" He hadn't meant to yell at the kid. But he was having a hard time focusing without fighting with little brother about the meager amount of food they had.

"You said a bad word…" Sam breathed back. His eyes were wide and shining with tears as he stared at Dean, his lower lip starting to tremble with emotion.

Dean stepped forward and pulled his brother into a hug. "I'm sorry I yelled, kiddo. But you gotta eat." He ran his fingers through Sam's hair and waited until his little brother had stopped crying.

"You need to eat too." Sam answered. His fists coming up to rub the tears out of his eyes. "I'll share with you." He added as he grabbed another bowl and pushed half the remaining mac and cheese into it. Sam handed the bowl to Dean and then crawled up into his chair.

Dean didn't have time to contemplate what his baby brother had just done, because the door flew open and John rushed into the motel room. He stomped the snow off his boots and coat and quickly shut the door behind himself. He was carrying a large bag of groceries and a smile when he looked down at the two little boys sitting at the table eating.

"Hey'ya boys! Everything good?"

Dean wanted to answer honestly. That they'd run out of food days ago. But instead he swallowed that response and simply nodded before rushing to his father for a hug. Sam was right on his heels and John scooped them up in a bear hug. "Everything's good." Dean finally said.

XXXX

"Mr. Wilson?" A nurse called and John raced forward.

"I'm Mr. Wilson. How're my son's?" His voice was rough with exhaustion and his handsome face was drawn with worry.

The aging nurse smiled sadly. "Well, that was quite an accident they were in."

John simply nodded. He glanced over at Bobby, who was watching on with interest. "Yeah…"

She patted him on the arm. "The doctor can explain thins better than I can. Can you come with me?"

"Bobby." John called out. The other hunter was on his feet instantly. "This is the boy's uncle…on my wife's side."

Bobby threw him an amused look before he nodded. "Bobby Singer."

"Ah…okay. Well, if you two will follow me?"

They stepped through the doors and into the ICU. A doctor in bright green scrubs met them at the nurses counter. "Mr. Wilson, your son Dean has been admitted to room 4 and rather than taking up two rooms, we put Sam in there as well. I hope that's okay?"

John nodded. "They'll actually probably prefer that."

"Good. Well this is what we know about their conditions. Sam's leg required surgery to set the bone and stitch up the puncture wound. He has several lacerations and quite a lot of bruising, but he should make a full recovery. He's still sleeping off the anesthesia, but should be lucid in the next few hours…" The man stopped talking and John found that his anxiety levels went through the roof.

"Doc? What about my other son?" Fear was laced beneath the request.

The doctor sighed and ran a hand through his red hair. "I'm afraid that Dean suffered far greater injuries. The wound to his shoulder was extreme and it festered while they were stuck in the backwoods. We cleaned that up, but there is fair amount of infection that had already taken hold. The other concerns are the lacerations and bruises…it's going to take him weeks to heal." He blinked a few times and continued. "It's the sluggish responses in his neural tests that have me concerned. If I didn't know better, I'd say that he was drugged…repeatedly."

"Drugged? With what?"

"I wish I knew. It's not reacting the way that any of the know narcotics should. This particular drug seems to be accessing his memory centers…it's kinda like the way meth accesses the pleasure centers. They fire on all cylinders so much that they eventually burn out. I'm afraid if we don't figure out how to stop this in Dean's head…he won't be able to properly access his memories…ever."

John stared at the man like he'd been speaking Greek. "What does that mean?"

"It means he won't be able to remember anything before the first injection…it's a nasty piece of work. But we're doing out best." The doctor patted John on the arm sympathetically before walking away.

John turned toward Bobby and they stared at one another for a moment before quickly heading toward room four.

XXXX

Dean was floating between the dream world and the regular, pain in the ass, world. He kept thinking of Sammy and he was finding that he couldn't remember when the last time he'd seen his little was. Something kept running to the forefront of his thoughts…Sam had left...or Sam had been taken.

He tried to remember what had happened. Where he'd been or where Sam had been. But there were so many holes that he finally gave up and opted for forcing his eyelids open. His head felt heavy and stuffed with rocks. A headache was sitting just behind his eyes and he couldn't move his right arm.

He started to struggle when he thought he was restrained and the last thing he saw was Sam's black eyes.

"Hey! Dean…come on son…it's okay." Dean stilled when he recognized his father's voice.

He forced his blurry gaze in the direction of the voice and waited for his eyes to focus. When they finally did he nearly surged up out of the bed…he would have if Bobby hadn't thrown himself across Dean's torso, pinning him to the bed. Because across the room in the bed next to him was Sam…with his obsidian black eyes.

"He's a demon! Can't you see it?!" Dean cried desperately. He continued to struggle against both his father and Bobby. Sam's eyes were wide with shock and confusion. But they were still black…and that was enough for Dean.

The alarms started ringing in the room and the nurses ran in. They pushed both Bobby and John out of the way and depressed something into Dean's IV. Within moments he relaxed and his eyes rolled back as he slipped into sleep. The crisp white bandage on his shoulder now stained red with fresh blood.

"What's wrong with him, dad?" Sam breathed out. He was staring at Dean's now restrained form in shock.

John moved to his son and waited for the nurses to clear the room. "The demon injected him with something…it's messing with his head. That's all…it's going to be okay, Sam. The doctor's are on it." He hugged his son and then followed Bobby's lead as he stepped into the hallway.

"What if them doctors can't help him?"

John looked around to make sure no one was paying attention. "What do you mean?"

Bobby swallowed hard. "Well, if that demon made that drug, then it might take more than modern medicine to fix Dean."

John leaned against the wall and ran both hands through his thick hair. "Call Caleb and Pastor Jim…if they don't know how to help, they might someone who does." His gaze shifted up to his friend and he shook his head. "I can't lose them, Bobby."

"I know…me neither." Bobby whispered before left to find a phone.

TBC…

Author's Note: So…as you can see there was more to the story than the simple rescue of the boys. Healing Dean isn't going to be as simple as they'd supposed. And the memories are going to get nastier before they get better…or are they simply the dreams? Guess we'll see.

Thank you guys for the awesome response to the last chapter. Glad you enjoyed it. And as promised…here's the new chapter.

Thank to everyone that reviewed particularly: Guest (I did promise, didn't I / several of you), babyreaper, BranchSuper, PurpleMysc, South of Eden, Taraneh, Sylvie-winchester, 1hotpepper, dandy44, shaxpersis, KitCat, Beakers47, Idreamofivan, ncsupnatfan, DeanHart, Nina Ferraro, kracken96, and mb64. Much appreciation people.

PLEASE REVIEW: I'm hoping you liked the new chapter twist enough to tell me about it.