Disclaimer: I own nothing; not Sam, Dean, Benny, Amelia, or anything else involving Supernatural; this is purely written for pro bono entertainment.

I'm losing control now, and without you I can finally see.

It was too much, everything he was feeling, thinking, the sudden realization of what his brother was asking making even the safety of the Impala claustrophobic. Still struggling to breathe, Sam whirled around, frantically grasping the door handle, shaking off the hand that grabbed at his upper arm, ignoring the panicked tone of Dean's voice as he called out his name.

Shoving open the door, Sam launched himself from the confinement of the car, not bothering to shut the door as he took a few steps, holding his hands over his face and mouth, as though he could force the air to stay inside his lungs. He vaguely heard his brother call his name again as another door opened, was slammed shut, and within a second, Dean was by his side.

"Sam! Sammy!"

Despite the panic attack, Sam was still surprised by Dean's speed, causing him to whip around and put a hand up in defense, forcing Dean to stop moving towards him.

"Just," Sam gasped in a shuddering breath, "Just give me a minute, okay?"

Dean nodded stiffly, his own hand up in a calming motion, worry etched on his face as he murmured, "Okay, Sammy, just...breathe."

Sam looked away, but didn't turn his back on his brother as he bent, placing his hands on knees, struggling to take in deep breaths, to steady his heart rate. After what felt like many agonizing minutes, he was finally able to straighten, and managed to meet his brother's eyes as he did.

"This isn't you, Dean, not at all. Your whole life you have hated monsters, fought with me about giving any of them the benefit of the doubt, and now what you're asking me...what changed, Dean? What happened to you?"

"Purgatory," Dean replied simply, "Purgatory happened, and it changed more than I can explain."

Sam froze. "Purgatory? That's where you disappeared to?" Sam swallowed back the guilt that washed over him. "For how long?"

"A year, Sam," Dean replied easily.

"A whole year? Dean, I'm-I'm sorry I didn't know-"

"Stop, Sam, it's okay." Dean felt the change in the air, the calming of Sam's heartbeat, the fear and panic turning into sorrow and confusion. His brother looked and sounded vulnerable, and Dean allowed himself a step forward, gauging Sam's reaction. When his brother didn't attempt to stop his movements, or tried to move away, Dean knew his instincts were right. Sam was ready to listen, he wasn't going to run. Not yet. It was up to Dean to make sure his brother stayed.

"No, Dean, it's not okay," Sam sighed, looking up at the dark sky, "I should have known...I just thought you were dead..."

Dean waved a hand horizontally through the air. "We can talk about that later, Sam. I'll be happy to tell you all about Purgatory, and I'm sure there's plenty you wanna get off your chest about this past year, too," Dean said that last part carefully, not wanting any of the resentful feelings of Sam obviously not hunting to bleed through in his words. He needed to handle this moment as gently as possible. If things turned out the way he hoped, he and his brother would have plenty of time to play catch up.

"How did you get out?" Sam asked quietly, needing to know that at least.

Dean motioned towards the motel room. "Benny. He knew a way out...we really had to rely on each other to get out of that God forsaken place."

"So, you trust him?"

"Yes," Dean replied without hesitation, noticing the stiff nod from Sam, who glanced at the motel door and then back to his brother. There was obviously something on Sam's mind.

"What is it, Sam?"

"How, uh...when did this happen?"

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You mean, when did I get turned into a bloodsucker?"

Sam nodded, replying in a tight voice, "Yeah."

Dean spread his hands and spoke in a carefree, straightforward tone, "Long story short, couple days after we got out we had a run in with an old friend of Benny's. Some bad blood there." Sam was a little surprised to see Dean smiling at the memory as his brother pushed his hands into his jacket pockets. "Anyway, we didn't know he'd been tracking us, the attack came out of nowhere...he knew me, I guess, or at least knew I was a hunter. Instead of just killing me he thought it would be funny or ironic to turn me into something I've spent my life hunting. But it was his head rolling on the ground by the time Benny was through with him, so joke's on him right?"

Sam's forced a smile, knowing his brother could see right through how artificial it was. Shifting his feet, running a hand over his face and staring into the distance, Sam felt a question forming in his mind that even though he subconsciously already knew the answer to, Sam felt he had to ask. He needed to hear it.

"Did Benny convince you to completely transition into a vampire, or was that your choice?" He kept his eyes focused away from Dean.

"It was my choice, Sam."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he had desperately grasped onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, Dean wasn't completely lost to him, that if he hadn't taken that final step, he could cure his brother.

"You chose to feed from someone? To kill them?" He hated how shaky his voice sounded, but the emotions thrumming through him were impossible to ignore or control.

There was a moment of silence before Dean answered. "Yes, I killed someone, fed from them, and now," he said softly, spreading his hands again, glancing down at himself and back up to his brother. "This is who I am, Sam."

"A killer."

Dean actually laughed at the statement, causing Sam's eyes to open wide and stare at him.

"Hell, Sam, I've always been a killer. Besides drinking blood, not much else has changed."

"How many innocent people have you killed, Dean?" Anger rose in Sam's voice as he took a step forwards.

Dean's smile faded. "None."

"But, you just said-"

"Two people, so far. But they weren't *innocent*, they were bad people, has been showing me how to feed from blood bags, that's how we drink most of the time, to keep other hunters off our scent, and because unlike what you think, I am not going to go on some killing spree massacring a bunch of people, Sam."

"Why didn't you want to be cured, Dean?" Sam's voice was raising, arms spread, "I could have helped you!"

"Maybe if you had answered any of your goddamn phones, I would have let you!" Dean yelled, frustration, anger, and the hunger rising to the brim.

Sam took in a sharp breath and several steps back, the words tearing away at him, the look in Dean's eyes, the predatory gaze fixed on him, the fact that Sam could have prevented this, threatened another panic attack.

Dean saw the look on his little brother's face, the tears springing to his eyes as he heard Sam's heartbeats quicken.

*Dammit, Dean, calm down, calm down!*

Dean took a few deep breaths, bringing the hunger back down, tucking it away, knowing that this was not the time for anger or blame. He could practically see Sam drowning in guilt, and Dean swore at himself.

"Sam, I'm sorry-"

"Why are *you* sorry? I'm the one who messed up," Sam was wringing his hands, a couple of tears slipping down his face, "I lost my mind when I thought you died, Dean, I couldn't take it, so," he swallowed, mouth dry, chest heaving, "I ditched all the phones, and I ran." Sam watched Dean as his older brother slowly approached him, as though trying not to startle him, "I'm sorry, Dean."

Sam waited for Dean to say something, but was surprised when his brother reached out with both hands, gripped him by his shoulders, and thrust Sam towards him, gripping him tightly into a hug.

Resisting for only a second, Sam relaxed into the hug, gripping his brother, who, above all else, was right here, alive. Well, as alive as he was ever going to be.

"It's not your fault, Sam."

Sam gave a slight nod, but they both knew he had his doubts. Dean noted it was something they would have to address eventually, but he needed to get back to the task at hand, before the girl woke up.

Pulling away slowly, Dean held his brother at arm's length, a small smile forming as he tried to comfort his little brother.

"Truth is, Sam, after everything that happened in Purgatory, even if you could have cured me, I think I might have said no, anyway."

Dean's hands slid off of Sam, falling at his sides. "Purgatory reminded me of who I am, who I want to be, more than anything else has. I'm a hunter, Sammy. And so are you." Dean lifted a hand and motioned at Sam's chest, then back at himself. "We're meant to do this together. Now, more than ever, I need you by my side. I'm still getting used to this, and I can't do it alone."

*Yes you can,* Sam wanted to say, the familar response on his lips...but the look in Dean's eyes told him otherwise. As strong, as downright violent and scary he could be with this monster running through his veins, he was scared. Just as scared as Sam, if not more. Because he doesn't know what Sam will say, if his little brother will choose to stay with him, or if he'll run again.

"I'm not going anywhere, Dean. We'll get through this together, okay?" Sam paused at the relief flooding Dean's face before continuing. "But it doesn't have to be this way. What you're asking me to do, I can't."

"Sam," Dean's eyes were nearly pleading, "There's no other way. I can't worry all the time about whether or not I accidentally hurt you, about whether you feel obligated to take me out if I do lose control and kill some innocent person..."

"That's not going to happen, Dean," Sam said firmly, but Dean shook his head.

"You don't know that, Sam. I mean, what if?" Dean, desperate, needing his brother to see, stepped forward and grabbed his brother's face with both hands gently, forcing a gasp from Sam at the cold fingers, "I can't do this alone, Sammy. I can't go *through* it alone. I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to, and if I truly believed this was the wrong thing to do, I wouldn't ask, but please, little brother, just *think* about it before you decide."

Sam had stilled at the raw emotions flowing from his brother, who almost always kept them at bay, away from the surface. And Sam realized that Dean didn't just want him to do this, he needed him to. Dean was scared; for himself, for Sam, and was worried Sam wouldn't be able to deal with this as a human. He wanted them to be one hundred percent together on this, because Dean believed everything would fall apart if they weren't.

Sam understood. As freaked out as he was, he got it. He just wasn't sure he could give his brother everything he was asking.

"I get it, Dean. I do," Sam slowly gripped Dean's wrists and pulled them down off his face, grateful Dean allowed him to feel like he had the power to remove them, when they both knew Dean could stop him if he wanted. Sam gave a reassuring squeeze before releasing Dean, seeing the tiny bit of relief in his brother's guarded eyes.

"But...it can't be Amelia. I won't hurt her."

Dean hesitated. "It has to be her, Sam."

Sam shook his head. "Why?"

"Because I know you, Sam, and I know how hard it's going to be to walk away from this life. She is the only thing tying you to this world, and the only way you're going to be able to commit to this next life is if you sever it."

Sam couldn't deny how well his brother knew him, but wouldn't admit it out loud either. "You even said that you only killed 'bad' people, Dean. How do you justify me killing Amelia if you wouldn't do it yourself?"

"I would," Dean said without hesitation, "if it meant helping you the way I think it will, and to protect you, I would."

Sam was taken aback by the sincerity in Dean's voice, confused by the words. "What do you mean, protect?"

Dean took a step back and sighed, glancing at the motel room door. "There was a guy watching your house, Benny...had a talk with him."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "What guy?"

Dean glanced back at him. "Benny said it was Amelia's husband."

"Don," Sam whispered, eyes going wide. "Wait, did...did Benny kill him?"

"I asked him to take care of it and he did," Dean replied easily, watching as Sam closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face, "But it sounds like you knew about him...how happy are you with this woman, Sam?"

"She saved my life, Dean," Sam replied warily, opening his eyes.

Dean offered a small smile. "Did she tell you she was married?"

"She thought he died overseas, then he just showed up out of nowhere," Sam paused, remembering, "We were trying to figure out our next step..."

"She was going to choose him, wasn't she?" Dean said knowingly.

Sam decided not to comment about Dean referring to Amelia in the past tense. "I think so, I don't know, but I was planning on leaving anyway, to give them a chance. She saved me when I needed something to ground me back into reality, but once Don came back, I knew it was over," Sam said quietly, staring at the motel room, lost in thought.

"Sam, look at me."

Sam did, almost reluctantly, not afraid at what Dean was going to say, but of how numb everything was starting to feel. Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"If we let her go, that's just a witness for the police, for hunters, and making this...," he motioned with his left hand, "new beginning, start off more complicated than it needs to be." Dean let Sam mull that over for a moment before continuing. "You said she saved you before. Let her do it again. Her husband is gone, you already said you would come with me...it sounds to me like she won't have anybody, so why not let her *help* you start over?"

Dean knew he was twisting his words, was starting to rely on manipulation to convince Sam, but he was desperate. He needed his little brother to do this, knew that if he left Amelia behind a part of him would forever be stuck with her, craving that life. It would never work, Dean was sure.

No, this was the best way. The way it *had* to be.

Before Sam could open his mouth, Dean decided to deliver a final, honest sentiment to his brother: "If you leave her behind, a part of you is always going to be with her, and you'll only end up suffering, you both will. Doing this will save you, and her, a lot of pain."

Sam felt tears begin to form once again, but not because Dean was upsetting or scaring him, because Sam was starting to *believe* what Dean was saying. Sam swallowed, blinked, and couldn't look away from the hopefulness in his brother's eyes.

Sam knew he would choose Dean, knew he didn't want to disappoint him. The clarity of what he was about to do, and the realization that he might actually be okay with it, numbed Sam to his core.

There was no turning back now.