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. Okay, so there is a problem with this posting, so I am going to reload it. I'm sorry if you get multiple notifications. Apologies.

Chapter Fourteen

I Know You?

"It could rewrite his memories…he won't be the Dean we know anymore…and it's not fixable." Bobby's words echoed through Sam's head and he bit his lower lip to keep from crying. How much worse can this get? He wondered as he looked at his brother's silent form.

Dean's arms were folded across his chest and his face was pale, even against the bright white of the hospital sheets. The light smattering of freckles that ran across the bridge of his nose stood out like neon lights against his skin. And he was so still…so very still.

Sam had never see his brother this quiet. Not even when he'd had a severe concussion after being thrown around by a poltergeist when he was thirteen.

Dean had been burned and tossed around when the ghost had chucked him into the fire; his head bouncing off the concrete like a basketball. The fire that their father was using to burn the body. He'd been lucky, sustaining only minimal burns that would require poultices and wrapping…but it wasn't some that a little brother ever forgets. Sam hadn't been on that hunt; he'd been left with Bobby. But their father had taken Dean and to say that the hunt had gone badly was a serious understatement.

The trip to the hospital had been scary for the eight-year-old and it hadn't helped that Bobby had been unusually silent the entire trip. Sam's gaze had slipped between the passing countryside and the worried expression that had been plastered on the old hunter's face. He'd known that something was wrong, because he'd never been hauled to the hospital before. Generally, their father took care of any wounds they got on his own. Not that there had been very many. John was relatively careful in the hunts he included his boys on.

Sam could only remember a few times that he himself had been taken to a hospital…and none of them had been because of hunts. He'd had a broken arm when he'd tried to fly…like superman. And then there had been the time Dean had given him a ride on his bike and Sam had fallen off and busted two fingers…but those were really the only times he could remember. He found himself lost in his thoughts while Bobby drove in silence and the next thing he knew they were pulling into the parking lot. He followed the older man at a distance, his feet shuffling in slow protest.

The smell of the hospital was the first thing that Sam had noticed. It was that sterile smell of bleach mixed with antibacterial cleaning solutions. It made the inside of his nose feel like a Band-Aid. They'd followed the nurse back through the double doors and into the corridors of the intensive care unit.

Sam had stepped up to the ER window and his breath had caught at the sight of Dean on a ventilator. His brother was covered in bandages from his fingers to his eyes. Sam had turned large luminous eyes on Bobby. "What happened to my brother?" His voice had been weak and scared…reminding the older hunter of just how young these two boys actually were.

Bobby had tried to smile, but he'd never agreed with John taking the older boy on those hunting trips…not yet…Dean was still too young. "The ghost…he hurt Dean." He wasn't sure how to explain exactly what had happened to the boy…because Bobby still didn't quite understand it himself. He explained to Sam that his brother had a cracked skull and there was pressure on the brain that had been alleviated in surgery.

Sam simply nodded and stared through the glass at his brother. He wanted to go into the room so badly, but he was scared. What if Dean didn't wake up? What if the ghost had hurt him really bad and he was never the same? He interlaced his fingers and placed them under his chin as he watched the nurse move around his brother's room. She checked his vitals and injected something in the bag hanging from the IV stand…but Sam made no more to enter the room.

"Don't you wanna go check on Dean?" Bobby asked. He was well aware of how close these two boys were and he was more than a little surprised that Sam hadn't burst into that room.

Blue-green eyes shifted to him and then to the floor as Sam shook his head.

Bobby blinked in surprise at the subtle shake of the boy's head. "Why not?"

"I'm scared…what if Dean…" He pulled his gaze up and looked the older hunter right in the eyes. "Promise me he's gonna be okay."

Bobby nearly choked on his own tongue. "Sam…I can't make a promise like that." Sam's hopeful expression melted and he nodded slowly. Luckily John came around the corner before Bobby had to explain anything else.

Sam was pulled back to the current situation and he sighed as he scrubbed his fingers through his long sable hair. He thought that that was the worst that things would ever get for him and his brother…man had he been naive. And now he was potentially looking at never getting the Dean he'd grown up with back again…and it could all be laid squarely at his feet. The guilt was washing through him in slowly building waves and he picked at his fingernails in an attempt to distract himself.

His gaze shifted to where Dean was still unconscious in the other bed and then it slipped around his empty room. Their father had gone to get something to eat from the cafeteria after talking with Bobby. To be perfectly honest, Sam was pretty sure that his father just headed out to get himself a drink. The man wasn't a drunk, but he definitely used alcohol to soften some of the edges. And this is one hell of a rough edge. He thought.

Over in the corner of the room near the foot of his bed was a pair of crutches, Sam took one last look at his brother and then crawled carefully over so that he get his fingers around the wooden handles. They weren't the fancy silver aluminum ones that people generally used. He assumed that was because this was a very small hospital in a very rural area. Either way, he levered himself out of the bed and balanced on the crutches. His ribs protested slightly and he ground his teeth together as he peered out into the hallway. Currently, it was empty. Sam's gaze lifted to the information board near the elevators and he took a deep breath before heading out toward the chapel.

Inside he knew that there was nothing that he could say or do about getting the guilt off his chest. But he wondered if talking to a man of God would help him…because he sure as hell didn't know what else to do. He couldn't help Dean, not in the way he should, not until he managed that.

The chapel was on the second floor and Sam was able to avoid anyone as he moved slowly through the long deserted hallway in the wee hours of the morning. The hospital had that icky antiseptic smell that all medical institutions have and it was making him slightly queasy…bringing back memories that were better left in the past. He swallowed his discomfort and reached out to push the large ornate door open.

Strange thing, he and Dean had been hunting the supernatural for years and Sam had no idea what God they actually prayed to. A confessional was situated off to the right of the massive candles near the front of the small chapel. He hoped that there was a priest there…turns out he was in luck.

Sam limped into the small box and gently closed the door behind himself. The thin door slid open and inside the square was the distorted face of a man.

"Bless you child, how long has it been since your last confession?" The voice was warm and even. It made Sam want to talk. He swallowed hard and leaned his crutches against the wall, before sinking onto the cushioned seat.

"Uh…I've never done this." He said quietly.

A slight chuckle from the other side of the divider was his answer before the priest said. "God doesn't judge us for that son, please tell me your name and why you're here?"

"Sam…And it's my brother…he's not doing too good and it's all my fault." Sam heaved a breath and plowed forward. "I just wanted to have a normal life…I never thought that Dean would get hurt and he didn't deserve it. He always puts me first and I've tried to be like him…but I'm just not. I thought that he would go on to meet my father and then I could compete in the science fair and meet him." Sam's voice cracked and the priest jumped in.

"So…you ran away on your brother's watch and you thought that he would just let you go?" It wasn't judgmental, simply stating the facts.

When it was put like that it made Sam feel so much worse. "I guess so…but I should have known, Dean would never just leave me. He never does anything wrong…"

"Oh, I'm sure he has his own set of problems. Where were your parents?"

Pain lurched through Sam at the mention of their parents. "My…mother died when I was a baby…my brother watches out for me whenever my dad's working."

"And do you move around a lot?"

"All the time. But he always tries to make it better for me. I was being so selfish and he got hurt so bad." Emotions threatened to undo Sam and he had to take a slow breath to avoid crying.

"Sam…does your brother know how much you love him?" The priest asked softly.

Sam's gaze dropped to the floor of the booth. The carpet was a plush dark wine color and he found it difficult to lift his gaze again. "I…I don't know…I think so."

"Haven't you ever told him how much it means to have him around?"

"Uh…I don't think so. I used to tell him all the time…but now I can't remember the last time I said 'thank you'. And he may never wake up." Guilt rushed through Sam in a tidal wave and he sank further into the booth's chair. His leg was aching from the cramped position. "I'm a bad brother aren't I…"

"No Sam. You're family…and family is supposed to make you crazy. I think that you need to tell your brother how you feel. Tell him that you love him and that you're sorry."

Sam started to get up, but he turned back at the last second. "Thank you…I'm not even Catholic so I'm sure if any of this counts." He added as an after-thought.

Another soft chuckle resounded inside the booth. "A lot of people aren't Catholic, but that doesn't mean that God isn't listening when you step into his booth. Go talk to your brother Sam…he'll forgive you if you give him the chance."

He pushed the door open and limped from the booth, grabbing his crutches and situating himself for the walk back to the fifth floor. "That's what I'm afraid of." Sam whispered as he moved slowly up the aisle between the ornate pews.

XXXX

Dean fought his way through the sludge of his own mind and forced his eyes open. He hurt all over. The prick in his arm told him he had an IV inserted and the tightly wrapped feeling around his chest informed of the reason for his pain…broken ribs. It was the light fire racing through his shoulder that was a new sensation for him. He'd never had an infection as bad as the one that was spiking his fever now.

A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead and dropped onto the pillow. He blinked several times and then turned his head to look around. The smell gave it away immediately…hospital. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten there and as he scanned the room he was distressed to realize that neither of his parents were present. Dean swallowed against the dry feeling in his throat and looked over to the small roller tray near his left. He started to reach out and then groaned when pain lit up in his side.

"Son of a bitch." He breathed.

A shuffle near his feet had his gaze flashing down. There at the base of his hospital bed was a young man. The kid appeared to be around twelve or thirteen with a broken leg and bruised face.

He looks like I feel. Dean thought. He forced a smile past his own pain. The kid continued to stare at him in shock. The smiled died on Dean's lips as he got distinctly uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "Take a picture…they last longer."

The kid shifted up toward the head of the bed. "Dean? You okay?"

"I know you?" Dean asked. He was surprised when the kids expression faltered and he looked like Dean had slapped him.

"Yeah…it's me…Sam." Sam took a step forward, but then stopped when Dean pressed himself further into his pillows.

"Sam who?" He questioned.

Sam's lips dropped apart in a pained expression and his eyes welled with tears. Bobby's words flashed through his mind… "re-write his memories."

TBC…

Author's Note: Sorry about the two days between posts. I had to travel home and it was a long trip. Here's the newest chapter, I will have the next one up tomorrow though. We will be dealing with Dean's memories and Sam's reaction to that…as well as John and Bobby's search for the drug. The next chapter deals with Dean's reaction to all of this and the added bonus of two sets of memories…which ones are real. Think 'What Is and What Should Never Be'.

Thanks to everyone that has read and reviewed…particularly: Uzi, becca65d, BranchSuper, kracken96, Idreamofivan, Wunjo, babyreaper, mb64, guests (several of you), Taraneh, Sylvie-winchester, 1hotpepper, dandy44, Dean's Worshiper, Beakers47, shaxpersis, and Nina Ferraro.

PLEASE REIVEW: Just let me know what you think, please.