Disclaimer: Not mine!

A/N: Ok people... run... hide under the desk... cover your eyes... go to a different story and pretend it was the new story... there is a warning. Tonight's one shot is a death fic. I wrote it quite a while ago, but never posted it because of obvious reasons. I can't remember why I wrote it, but for those of you who wish to venture into it, please do. Tomorrow's one shot is going to be a funny one, so it'll off-balance this one. Well... here it goes... try to enjoy!

Title: For You, Dean
Genre: Tragedy and Angst
Summary: Sometimes it's not always the supernatural that can threaten a life.

For You, Dean

Sam remembered the day well; it was the best day of his life-- without a doubt. The look that Dean had given him was one that Sam could never forget, nor would he want to. And the words his big brother told him…

"You did good Sammy."

Sam couldn't help it after that, and had hugged Dean for all it was worth. It lasted a few seconds before Dean shot out 'Ok, enough Princess', and the two enjoyed more than a few beers together. Sam played pool, while Dean hustled up some money, and it wasn't until three in the morning that day that the Winchester's finally settled in for the night at a crummy motel. The next morning broke with the continued excitement; particularly from Sam. He'd never forget that day.

The day he broke the deal.

Sam had been determined; Dean having such a short amount of time left. Luck was on the hunter's side as he found just the right demon, and made just the right move. It was all over before Sam had known it started. It was by far not an easy fight; Sam walking away with thirty stitches and two broken ribs, but when he walked into the room his brother had been in, and told him what happened. It was all worth it-- Dean would live!

But fate can be cruel.

"Sammy," it was a mere two days after the celebrating that Dean walked solemnly into a hotel room where his brother was, "…can I talk to you?"

Sam put down a gun which he'd been cleaning out, and immediately noticed the look on Dean's face, "What's wrong?"

Dean sat down on the edge of one of the twin beds and took a deep breath, "Sam… I got something to tell you man."

Cancer.

No! No Winchester ever died of something so… normal and unforeseen. No, if Dean were to be sick, or get killed, it would be heroically; saving someone, or killing some evil son of a bitch. At least this was what Sam continued to argue. Continued to declare as Dean gently explained to him that the doctor said it was a tumor pressing against his heart. Continued to state as Dean got sicker and weaker from treatment. Continued to shout as the doctor told Sam the chances of survival were slim at best.

"Dean, don't do this," Sam whispered a month later as he sat in Dean's hospital room, "Please… don't leave me."

Dean smiled, "Sammy… everything will be fine. You're tough; I showed you everything I know."

Sam swallowed hard-- the tears falling freely, "Don't give up. Just… don't give up please? Keep fighting."

Dean smiled weakly, "I will."

And Dean Winchester did. Another round of chemotherapy and two surgeries later, the doctor gave the best news either hunter had heard in a long time; the cancer was in remission. Dean was getting better! Sam hugged Dean again; though this time his brother let it last longer as his own tears of relief showed his true feelings.

"See Dean," Sam smiled through his own emotions, "All you had to do was fight."

Dean grinned weakly back, "I know Sammy… but this friggin thing can come back any time. It's like the demon's deal without a time frame."

"Dean, don't talk like that!" Sam demanded.

"I don't want to," Dean got serious, "But, if it ever does come back… I want you to do something for me…"

Recovery was slow after that; Dean had much more healing to do, but soon the brother's left the hospital. The tumor was gone, and Sam was eagerly talking about going back to hunting-- Dean agreed. They started slow, and Sam insisted on doing most of the work; Dean taking the backseat researcher roll.

"Sam, this sucks!" Dean tossed a thick book to the side, "You're geek boy! I'm… Hans Solo."

"Dean, you're still sick," Sam stated.

Dean laughed, "I'm not sick. I've been fine for months now-- I saved your ass on that last hunt. Now it's my turn-- you research, and I'll…"

Sam grinned, "Sit around on your ass?"

"Like I said," Dean stretched out as Sam picked back up the book, "You're geek boy, and I'm the cool person."

Sam rolled his eyes and began looking up information on the random piece of evil they were hunting. Everything was back to normal, and Sam cherished every word that came out of his big brother's mouth. He would do anything for him, even if it did mean doing all the research…

Dean stood by the picket fence near the water, and looked at Sam, "I just think we ought'a go to the Grand Canyon."

Sam stared at his brother in confusion at the abrupt statement, "What?"

"Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth cross country, you know, I've never been to the Grand Canyon." …

Sam stood, a smile on his face as he stared at the sun setting in the distance, "You always said you wanted to come here Dean."

If the Grand Canyon was amazing during the day, it was breath taking at sundown; the red and orange shooting across the prehistoric landscape mesmerized anyone. Sam wondered, briefly, why it took them so long to see such a famous place-- Dean was right, they traveled all across the country, and would be within hours of the Grand Canyon, and yet they never came.

"You better love it dude," Sam laughed, "Because to come here…" Sam paused and spoke quietly as his voice cracked, "…it's the hardest thing I've ever done. But--" a single tear rolled down Sam's face, "I'm doing it for you Dean."

Closing his eyes, Sam Winchester took the top off from the plain, black porcelain urn and held it out to the land bellow him. The soft, warm breeze carried the ashes on for miles, and Sam stayed until the sun was gone, and only the stars kept him company.

The End.