This is another prompt given to me by Zendog!

"I'll take upstairs, you take down." Sam didn't look at Dean as he moved to the stairs of the abandoned house. A haunted house. How cliché! He snorted, making his way up the derelict stairs. He made sure to step lightly, he didn't need to fall through and possibly break both of his legs. That was just a disaster waiting to happen.

Sam didn't know if the spirit was lurking in the dark corners, waiting for the perfect moment to strike as he traversed the dark halls, flashlight illuminating the dirty carpeting, sullied from years of neglect. His gun was held steadily in his hand, rock salt loaded and ready to shoot the bastard should he decide to show his ugly face.

A sudden movement from one of the rooms adjacent to him made him freeze and turn his gun towards it. He reached out, placing his hand on the cold door and shoving it open softly. It made a slight creaking noise as it opened to reveal the bedroom beyond, furniture covered by dusty white sheets. Another freakin' cliché!

A soft whimper met his ears and Sam cocked his head in confusion.

"Hello?" he called out, going against every instinct that screamed at him to stay quiet. The whimpers quieted before the closet door on the far side of the room opened slowly to reveal a young, pale face staring out at him. "It's okay; I'm here to help you." Sam stepped gracefully around the holes in the floor, bending down to eye level with the girl crouched in the closet.

"He's going to come back." The girl rasped. She couldn't have been older than twelve. "It was just a stupid dare. I knew it was a bad idea, but they were going to make fun of me for years if I didn't do it. I thought I was going to die." She admitted, hands shaking heavily.

"It's okay. I'm…" Before Sam could finish his sentence, something twisted in his guts and he was thrown into the wall. He let out an involuntary grunt as he felt something sharp pierce his back on the right side. Fantastic. The broken leg of a chair. He'd been thrown on the broken leg of a chair. A very sharp broken leg.

He felt blood start to spread, quickly soaking through his shirt as he landed on his feet. He staggered, raising his gun and shooting with harried aim. He missed the spirit completely as it advanced towards the little girl. She cowered to the back of the closet, covering her face with her hands as Sam rushed as fast as he could towards them.

"I'm sorry please!" The girl screamed as blood suddenly started spreading on her shirt. The spirit grinned sadistically, removing his claw like hand from her shoulder where he had pierced her. Sam felt his world tilt as he raised his gun once more. The shot rang out, hitting its mark. The spirit disappeared with a blast of cold air as Sam stumbled over to the little girl. Her eyes were rolling back into her head and fluttering shut. Her breathing shallowed out and Sam cursed angrily. He was too weak to carry her. He could barely even hold himself up. He knew he would need Dean's help to get out of the house, but Dean couldn't help him and carry the young girl. One of them would have to stay, and by the time Dean returned to help the other, they would probably be dead, either from blood loss or from the spirit taking them out.

Sam collapsed in front of the girl, placing two fingers on her neck. Her pulse fluttered weakly against his fingers and he could see the blood also seep from her head. She must have hit it when she'd thrown it back in pain. Dammit. Sam leaned back against the wall next to her, putting as much pressure as he could on her shoulder wound.

"Sam?!" Dean's worried voice came from the hall. Sam raised his voice weakly, calling out to his older brother.

"In here." He yelled, hoping Dean would hear the weak yell. A few seconds later, Dean's bright green eyes appeared in the darkness. His flashlight rested on Sam and the young girl, eyes raking the two of them.

"Shit." Sam nodded in agreement. Dean had clearly realized the same thing as his younger brother had. One of them would have to stay. "I can only take one of you outside." I can only save one of you.

"Leave me. Take her." Dean's face looked torn. Their job was to save innocent people, but Sam was his little brother. His big brother instinct was kicking in, despite his efforts to hold it down.

"Sammy, no." Dean shook his head firmly. "I'm not leaving you in here to die." He stated.

"I'm not going to let you leave this child in here to die either." Sam shot back, eyes glinting furiously in the light of Dean's flashlight. He would win this. He would make Dean save the little girl. There was no other way to do it. Sam was well into his twenties, he'd had time to go to high school, college even. If Dean left the little girl in here, she would never get the chance to experience those things.

"I can't…you're my little brother, Sam." Dean tried to make his younger sibling understand. Sam remained silent, biting his lip. The girl's labored breathing cut through the otherwise silent air. Sam felt tears start to rise in his eyes. It wasn't fair. She did this to herself. His colder side reminded him. She didn't have to go into the creepy haunted house. Sam shook himself. It wasn't her fault. You know it is, Sam.

"I don't know what to do." Sam whispered, hand falling weakly away from the girl's shoulder. The lack of pressure jolted her awake and she rolled her head towards him, eyes open just barely.

"Leave me." She rasped. "I'm as good as dead." She coughed, blood bubbling from her mouth and dribbling down her chin. Sam shook his head, raising his chin defiantly.

"No."

SPN

Dean looked down at the headstone, resting his hands in the pockets of his pants. He'd worn his nice suit, the Fed one, with a bright green tie. Despite his best efforts, he felt tears prick at his eyes. How could he let this happen? How could he have done this?

A hand suddenly came down on his shoulder. Dean looked up, meeting the person's eyes.

"There was nothing you could have done, man. She was gone before we even finished our conversation." Sam's eyes, bloodshot and sad, bore into his. Dean knew he was taking this much harder than his older brother. Sam had also worn his best suit, with a neon green tie as well.

"Neon green, because it was Ali's favorite color." Her older sister had told them in the department store, holding out two ties for them.

"Thank you for coming, you two. If Ali were here, she'd be glad." Catherine came up to them, grabbing both of their hands. Dean's eyes raked her face. Tears were still streaking down her face, and it was clear that the loss of her little sister wasn't something that would ever be okay, but a small smile still graced her lips. Sam squeezed her hand, remembering the weak grip that Ali had taken on his hand in her last moments.

"I'm sorry we couldn't do anything to save your little sister." Sam's voice cracked at the end and he looked away, feeling more tears squeeze out of his eyes. Dean looked down at the ground, unable to hold his tears back any longer. He reached up with his free hand and pressed the back of his hand to his eyes tightly.

"It's okay." Catherine sounded resigned, even slightly happy. "I love my little sister more than anything else in the world, but she was all about family. She wouldn't have sacrificed herself if she didn't think you guys were worth it. But Dean?" The man looked up, meeting her eyes with green ones that had become more vibrantly colored with the advent of his tears, which he couldn't seem to stop anymore. "Take good care of your little brother okay? The bond that you two have, it isn't something you see every day. You should cherish that." Dean nodded, feeling his throat close. "Thank you guys." Catherine gave each of their hands another squeeze before walking away from the grave and climbing into her mother's car.

"We can't save everyone man." Sam's voice sounded weepy, and the words weren't very convincing. They had let an eleven year old girl bleed to death.

"We can save each other." Dean replied, looking up at his brother with tears still trickling down his cheeks. "Sammy, I know I've never said it before, but I love you." Sam nodded, shoving his hands deeply into his pockets and turning to the Impala.

"I know. I love you too."