okay, i know some people probably think I was totally out of my right mind when i posted the last chapter...lol, and some probably actually wondered if I was writing a completely different story, but I swear it'll all make sense in the end...thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews! bambers:)

Chapter Forty-Seven

Sam sat alone in Bobby's spare bedroom, listening to the EVP recorded message that Dean had given him the night he had left. Although he had replayed the recording at least a hundred times since his older brother had disappeared, he had never made it beyond hearing about Dean's unborn child dying because of Dominic.

"An' it didn't even bother you when you stabbed your own child to death?" Sam heard his brother say as he rewound the tape to listen to it again.

"Did she happen to tell you her little secret?" Dominic taunted, and Sam flinched at the sound of utter cruelty in his voice, knowing full well what the secret was and how it must have destroyed his brother when it was revealed. "I told her if she came home I would forgive her for betraying me, an' the little bitch told me she was carrying your child. An' she actually had the nerve to smile when she said it like she really believed you could save her from me."

"Sh-she was . . . ." Sam heard his brother's shaky voice hitch in his throat, and closing his eyes he mentally envisioned the look of utter devastation that must have been etched into his features."You killed my . . . my . . . you sonuvabitch. How could you do that?" Dean's last words were said with such complete heartbroken desolation, Sam was left with no doubt the madman had accomplished what he had set out to do. He had destroyed Dean. He had taken from him, the one thing that could have brought pure happiness and peace into Dean's life.

"Hmmm . . . I can see by your expression that she never got the chance to tell you the good news." Dominic continued to taunt in the same cruel and cunning fashion, each word cutting deeper and deeper into Sam's shattered heart. "Tell me, how does it feel to know that you when you burned her body, you burned your own child's body as well?"

Sam jabbed the button, turning off the recorder. How could've I been so stupid? He needed me so damn much, an' I jus' pushed him away. Scrubbing his hand through his shaggy hair, he pushed his bangs out of his eyes as he glanced around the sparsely furnished room that had been his home for the last few months. His gaze strayed to the crumpled note on the dresser that Dean had written to him before he had left. Although he'd memorized every word his brother had said in the letter, Sam still got to his feet and retrieved the piece of paper to read it over again.

Sammy,

I know now that things will never be the same between us, and believe me, I don't blame you for it. This is all my fault. I should've protected you. It was the one job Dad gave me to do, and I messed it up royally. I'm so sorry, Sammy. But you have to believe that I never meant for you to get hurt. I just wish things could've been different. I wish I could take away everything you suffered because of me, but I can't. I know that now. I saw it in your eyes. We'll never be brothers again, and I don't know how to deal with that. I don't know how to live with that. So I'm gonna do the only thing I know how to do. I'm going after the rest of Dominic's men to make sure they never hurt you again.

Take care little brother,

Dean

Tears slipped silently down Sam's cheeks unchecked as he wondered where Dean was at he moment. He thought his brother would have come back by now or at the very least called to say he was all right. But even if he had, Sam had no idea how to face him. He had driven his older brother away. Had believed Dean capable of doing the things that Dominic had done to him. And his heart ached with the knowledge that he had hated him for it. There was no way Sam could even begin to apologize to his brother for everything.

He had tried to call Dean several times, but had never made it beyond taking the phone out of his pocket before realizing that if his brother had wanted to talk to him, he would have called. Dean just wasn't the type of person who cut himself off completely from the people he cared about. He was the kind of person who fought desperately to keep those he loved close to him. If he wasn't calling, it meant that he no longer counted Sam amongst the lucky few who he cherished, and Sam could hardly blame him for it.

He's done so damn much for me, an' this is how I repay him for it? He lost everything . . . he lost his baby, an' any chance for true happiness . . . an' what the hell did I do? I blamed him for it . . . blamed him for everything. How the hell am I supposed to make that right? How can I even begin to make up for everything he's lost? Hell, I can't even face him. He has to hate me . . . he just has to . . . .

So deep in his trouble thoughts, he hadn't noticed his father and Bobby walk into the room, until his dad lightly tapped him on the shoulder. Startled, he jerked away from his dad's touch, and moved to put some distance between himself and them.

"Sammy, we need to talk," his father began in an unsteady voice. "It's about your brother."

Sam gave a subtle nod of acknowledgment as he slowly backed away from both men. For a brief moment his heart soared, thinking that Dean had called to say he was coming home, but just as quickly it plummeted to the pit of his stomach as he took in the looks on both mens' faces. As he looked from one man to the other, he saw a look of mirrored hopelessness in their glistening eyes. Grim lines etched both their foreheads and the corners of their eyes, leaving little doubt in Sam's mind that they were here to tell him bad news. Sam backed further away, and butting up against the wall, his legs gave out on him and he slid bonelessly to the floor.

"I've been trying to get in touch with him for the past two months." John paused for a moment to wipe the moisture from his eyes, and then drawing in a deep breath, he continued, "I've even gone so far as to beg him to call back, an' he's just not answering, Sammy. It's just not like Dean not to keep in contact." He hesitated again to take another shaky breath. "If he were alive, he would've called back by now."

John fell silent and Bobby took up where he left off. "I know I never told ya this, but when Dean left that night, there was a look in his eyes . . . he'd given up an' didn't plan on coming back alive, Sam . . . ."

As Bobby's voice trailed off, John continued onward, "We don't know if Dominic's men got a hold of him or if something else dragged him down, but we're pretty sure he's --- "

"No!" Sam abruptly shouted, cutting his father off, not wanting to hear him say that Dean was dead. "I would know if he was . . . I would know it."

"Sam, you have to understand he wasn't exactly in his right mind when he left here," Bobby tried to reason, but Sam was beyond listening to either of them anymore.

Dean had to still be alive, and if he was, Sam knew he would be the one to find him. Instantly, he drew back into himself, shutting them both out as he reached out and searched for his brother with his mind. Sam wasn't exactly sure what he was doing, but instinctively understand he had the power within himself to locate Dean. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind stayed firmly locked on past hunts they had been on together. Yet, it wasn't as if they were his thoughts but Dean's. Everything he envisioned came from Dean's perspective.

Sam trembled as he felt Dean's stark fear wash over him. Terrifying fear gripped hold of Sam's heart and choked off his breath, but he refused to look away. If Dean was alive and perhaps lying injured somewhere, he was reliving these memories in stark detail, and Sam was almost certain these visions would provide a clue as to where he was now. The problem was that images were speeding up as Dean's abject fear grew, and he couldn't see anything clearly enough to determine what he was looking at.

"Sam . . . Sammy." John roughly shook Sam, and a small cry escaped the youngest Winchester as he was cruelly ripped from his vision. "You okay?" He knelt and protectively wrapped his arm around Sam's shoulder.

All Sam could do was stare at his father in incredulous disbelief. He had been so close to finding something that would lead him to his brother, but it had been torn away from him within a blink of an eye. Without a word, he pushed away from his father, and slowly made his way to his feet. "Get the hell out of my room," he gritted out through clenched teeth as he nudged his head toward the door.

"Sam," Bobby broke in on their conversation, but before he could get out what he was trying to say, Sam abruptly cut him off.

"I was talkin' to you, too, Bobby."

"Sammy, I know you're hurting, but so are we." John took a step toward Sam, and Sam backed away, not wanting his father to try and comfort him. "An' I'm pretty sure Dean wouldn't want you to blame yourself for this."

Hearing this, Sam's anger exploded. His body trembled as horrific memories of what Dominic had done to him crashed down upon him. All the fear and degradation he had endured at the hands of the madman, had sliced through his heart and soul, leaving him only a mere shadow of the man he had been before. And in his mind, there was only one person he could blame for everything he and Dean had suffered. On shaky legs he took several steps forward and came to stand face to face with his father.

"No, what you're really hoping is that Dean doesn't blame you for everything that happened," Sam snarled as he forcefully pushed his father backward. "Where the hell were you, Dad? I had to have called you no less than thirty times, beggin' you to come an' help me find him, but you never even answered in all that time. You selfish sonuvabitch!"

"I came as soon as I could. If I had only known," John tried to defend himself, but Sam wasn't even listening.

"As soon as you could? That's a laugh," he ground out through clenched teeth. "Do you know it only took one phone call," He held up a single finger, "Only one, an' Bobby was right there when we needed him. He's been more of a father to us than you'll ever be, even on your best damn day."

"Sam, you're father---" Bobby tried to jump in and defuse the argument before it got out of hand, but Sam cut him off.

"Don't defend him, Bobby, you know it's the damn truth." Sam swung to glare at the older hunter. "To him the only thing we were ever good for was hunting . . . that's it, nothing more. But you know what? We're better off without him . . . he's never been around anyway."

"I've done the best I could," John argued, "It's not like it was easy raising you two boys on my own."

"Huh, raising us? You gotta be kidding me." Sam stalked to his father, fisted a handful of his flannel shirt, and yanked his Dad toward him so their faces were mere inches apart. "Raising us would actually mean you'd have to be around at least some of the time. But you were never there. Dean raised me, not you, it was never you," he uttered with a shake of his head.

"Sam, I know you're hurtin' something fierce, an' I know I'm to blame." John gripped hold of Sam's hand and pried it away from his shirt. "So if it makes you feel better to hate me then go right ahead, but it still doesn't change the fact that we're the only family we've got left."

"If Dean's dead, I have no family left." With hands clenched into fists, Sam turned on his heel and stalked out of the room before he lost the last bit of his waning control, and ended up slugging his father in the face.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Sam slipped quietly out of the house, and headed toward the garage. The full moon lit the way through the maze of twisted wreckage, making the need for a flashlight unnecessary. Somewhere off to the right, he heard Rumsfeld pacing restlessly back and forth on his chain. At first Rumsfeld was content just to whimper as Sam lifted the garage door, but as he went inside to steal the Chevy Nova Bobby had just finished working on earlier in the day, the old dog began to howl and bark.

"Damn it, Rumsfeld, be quiet before you wake everyone up," Sam hissed as he eased open the car door and threw his duffel bag onto the passenger's seat. As he slid behind the wheel, he noticed the keys were still in the ignition and breathed a sigh of relief. Starting the engine, he revved it a few times before he backed out of the garage, and quickly turning the car around he raced out of the driveway. "I'm gonna find you, Dean. An' I'll make things right again, I swear I will."

XxXxXxXxXxX

From beside the front window, both John and Bobby silently watched as Sam drove away. When they could no longer see the taillights of the 69' Chevy Nova, they dropped the curtains back in place and went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

"Think he's gonna be alright?" Bobby asked concernedly as he grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured John a cup of coffee.

"Yeah, he's gonna be fine." A small smile lit across John's features as he gratefully accepted the mug Bobby offered him. "He just needed a little shove in the right direction."

"I still don't feel right about lyin' to the boy," Bobby grumbled as he took a sip of the steaming hot liquid and then set his mug on the table. "Makin' him believe we actually think Dean is dead. It's jus' not right."

"He wasn't getting any better, Bobby," John argued, brows knitting together in a scowl as he glared at his longtime friend. "He was drownin' in his own guilt, an' if we didn't do something soon I'm not so sure he would've made it."

"Still doesn't make it right." Bobby took a seat, and motioned for John to do the same. "So you think he'll be able to find Dean?"

Without even having to give it a moment's thought, John nodded. "If anyone can find Dean, it'll be Sammy. They jus' always seem to know how each other thinks." A worried frown creased John's forehead as he thought of his eldest son. If Dean wasn't trying to contact Sam, he had to be in real bad shape. From past experience John knew how reckless Dean could be if he wasn't focusing all his energy on keeping his little brother safe. Without Sam, John knew Dean would sink fast, he had witnessed it before when Sam had left for college. And if his eldest child believed that Sam no longer cared if he lived or died, it would literally kill him. "We better get a move on, we don't want Sam to get too far ahead of us."