The djinn stood silent at the top of the stairs, contemplating his next meal. The boy on the mattress was out, but the djinn could still feel his power – even in his unconscious state. The creature couldn't place it, but there was something different about his latest acquisition. He'd already fed numerous times from the boy, yet still his heart kept beating.

He didn't scare easy, this one.

The creature wondered how much longer he'd be able to feed from his current plaything before the hallucinations killed it, and he hoped there was no end in sight – the boy's fear was so exquisite and so delicious. Obviously, he had a shelf life, but he'd already outlasted every other human the djinn had feasted upon, and the creature found that impressive and a little … touching.

The elder djinn would have been content to stand and stare at the boy for hours, but his cravings propelled him forward. He knelt down before the youth as he lay motionless and reached out a hand. As ancient flesh melded with human skin, he threw his head back in ecstasy, heady with the hallucinations he generated in the boy and with the fear that accompanied them.

Sam groaned.

When the djinn touched him, Sam felt the darkness parting, and he was lifted up through the veil - back to the realm where the pain was real and the fear overwhelming.

His eyes opened slowly, and he blinked through a hurt so deep that it had no beginning, no end. It was everything, all at once, and it was nothing at all. Pain was all there was.

And then he noticed the figure kneeling over him, touching his shoulder – lovingly?

"Dean?" his voice was raw as he stared at his brother. The relief was intense. Dean had found him. Somehow, someway, his brother had found him and was going to save him. Sam tried to smile. "Dean. Thank God."

But Dean was angry. "What have you done, Sam?"

Sam tried to think. What was …?

"You dumb son-of-a-bitch. What did you do?" Dean glared at him with open hatred, and was that … disgust?

"Dean? I don't …"

"Don't even try it, Sam. Don't pull that helpless act with me. I see right through you – always have."

"What? … Dean."

But Dean only laughed. It was a cruel sound – so unlike his brother. Sam had never heard Dean laugh like that – ever. And he hoped he never would again. "Oh, you need help, all right."

"Dean … my head … the djinn." He whispered. "There's a djinn. Watch out."

"Yeah, there's no djinn, Sammy. This was all you."

"What?"

"You did this. You hurt yourself. Why?"

"Dean … no ... I wouldn't."

"Is this how you get back at me? Hunh? Is this payback for leaving you on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere? Cause that's sure the hell what it feels like."

"No." Sam breathed. "No! I wouldn't do that."

But Dean just glared down at him silently, and Sam recognized the look. He was contemplating his next move, and Sam saw the exact second when the light bulb went on. He tried to scuttle backwards to put some space between his broken body and his ice-cold brother, but his limbs wouldn't cooperate. The most he managed was a slight shift that set his head and his neck on fire and wrenched a scream from his mangled throat.

Then panic, "Dean! Don't!"

But the determination in his brother's face was unshakeable. It was the look he'd had the last time Sam had seen him, and it terrified the younger man now just as much now as it had then.

"I'm sorry, Sam." He said, shaking his head. "I can't fix this. You're too broken."

"Dean, no!"

"I can't leave you like this, little bro." Dean reached behind him and pulled out his .45. "It wouldn't be right to leave you like this. What would Dad say?"

Sam was crying now – tears rolling down his face in rivulets. He knew that Dean meant to kill him – that he thought killing him was the only option, the kinder option. And truthfully, Sam wasn't so sure he could disagree.

"You can stop the waterworks, you know." Dean told him coldly. "You did this. If you're gonna play, be prepared to pay, Sammy. I know Dad and I taught you that. So now this is how the bill comes due. Not only do you have to die, but I have to be the one to put you down. Now tell me, Sam, how is that fair?"

"Please …"

"Shut up!"

Sam tried to shut up, he really did. But a whimper escaped instead. And it made Dean roll his eyes in exasperation.

"Okay." Dean said. "Okay," and he looked Sam in the eyes. "I'm not going to lie, Sam. This is going to hurt like a bitch – close range and all – but I'll try to put you down in one shot. I promise." He cocked the gun and placed it under Sam's chin. "Dammit, the things I do for you, Sammy. You really need to grow the fuck up." Then he realized the irony in his statement and snickered, laughing directly into Sam's terrified eyes.

"Or not." He shrugged and pulled the trigger.