Disclaimer: Seriously, I've been sitting staring at the computer for five minutes thinking of a cool way to say no...

A/N: Hey everyone! Sorry it's a bit late-- I've been busy... but I'll have some free time for the next couple of days. Not that I have too many readers left, haha, three reviews for the last story. This one shot is one that I got the idea from when I was watching the episode with the killer clowns. I hope you all enjoy!

Title: Fear
Genre: Ok, I tried for horror, but it's basically more angst and suspense.
Summary: Sam and Dean go after a demon that takes a person to their worst fear.

Fear

"This dumb Sam," Dean frowned as he pulled the Impala to a stop outside the motel, "Really incredibly dumb."

"Then you stay here," Sam shrugged, "I'll do this on my own. Either way this demon is killing people and one of us has to stop it."

Dean opened up the car door and walked to the trunk; the rain splattering onto his head, "Isn't there another way to kill this thing? I mean, why do we have to summon it to us?"

"Because having the demon within sight usually helps in the killing it process," Sam responded flatly.

Dean sighed as he gathered items from the car, "Ok-- give me the low down again."

Sam sighed as water dripped down his face, "Dude, can we at least get out of the rain?"

Dean shoved a bag at Sam's stomach, smiling at the grunt it caused from the younger hunter, "Gonna melt Sammy?"

"C'mon," Sam moved ahead to the door, unlocked it and went inside.

"Alright," Dean plopped down his own bag onto the bed, "So this thing is called Formido?"

"Yep," Sam pulled out some papers, "Roughly, it means 'source of fear' in Latin."

"Dude, who the hell named all these things?" Dean walked over to his brother, "Why can't they just called it Demon of Fear, instead of making up--"

"Easy Dean," Sam smirked, "We have to get to work."

"Alright, alright," Dean gave in, "So we have to summon this thing to us. But when we do, it'll stick us into our worst fears, right?"

Sam took a deep breath, "…yeah. But that's the only way to kill the thing. It'll only appear in the visions it makes happen."

"Great," Dean ran his hand down his face, "So what… we'll be transported to a plane filled with clowns?"

Sam laughed, "Something like that I'm sure. You just gotta make sure you don't panic. The more the fear gets a hold of you, the more powerful this thing becomes."

"Of course it does," Dean groaned, "Alright, lets summon this bitch."

"You got a weapon?" Sam asked.

"Silver bullets," Dean grinned holding up a pistol, "That should do it."

"Yup," Sam tucked his own gun into the rim of his pants and took out a book, "You ready?"

Dean silently nodded as Sam began to read a summoning spell from the text. It took less than a minute before Sam finished; a small breeze blowing through the room at the end.

"Ok," Dean whispered, his gun clutched in his hand, "Did it work?"

"I think so," Sam placed the book down and took out his own gun again, "I mean… there was the whole wind thing."

Dean smirked and looked apprehensively at the door, "Should we check it out?"

"Yeah, just… be careful," Sam could feel his heartbeat already quickening.

"Yeah," Dean opened the door and took a step outside.

Immediately the door slammed shut behind him, and Dean swung around to see if Sam had made it through. He hadn't. Slowly, knowing exactly what he'd see, Dean turned back around, and found himself standing near the emergency exit of a plane.

"Oh crap," Dean whispered as he quickly shoved his gun out of view.

Random people looked towards Dean from their seats as the plane shook with turbulence. Dean smiled nervously at them as he looked around. He was, indeed, inside a plane where numerous people sat calmly in their seats.

"Sam," Dean whispered, looking around, "Sam!"

Sam was nowhere in sight, and realizing that he was in his fear, Dean made his way down the isle with his legs feeling like rubber. Another jolt of turbulence shook the plane causing Dean to squeeze his eyes shut.

Suddenly someone's hand was placed on Dean's shoulder, "I'm sorry Sir, but you'll have to take your seat. The plane is having some troubles."

"W-What?" Dean breathed looking over at the stewardess as the plane shook even more.

"The plane has lost an engine sir," the stewardess spoke as if this were an everyday thing, "We may crash. You need to sit in your seat, put your trays down, and put your seat to an upright position."

"I-I… don't have a seat," Dean stumbled, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he clutched tightly onto the seat of a person beside him.

"I'm afraid you'll have to stay standing up then sir," the stewardess shook her head, "Which is a shame… this is going to get bad."

-§-

"Dean!" Sam screamed out.

Everything had gone black as soon as Dean walked through the door, it slamming shut before the younger brother could get through. Everything was dark now as Sam stood still, his heart pounding viciously inside him.

"Dean…" Sam whispered, "Please, please… please…"

Suddenly a red light shone in the center of the room which was now stripped of anything resembling the hotel. For a moment Sam just stared as a small giggle echoed and bounced off the unseen walls.

'And if you should die before you wake…'

The voice rung out at the same moment a large, nearly seven foot clown walked in from the shadows. Baggy black, white and gray material hung limply down its skeletal body. Long fingered hands pulled through at the end of the arms with sharp, rotting fingernails ominously sticking out at horrid angles. Black hair hung down like dry hay from the clowns head that fell to just above its shoulders, and then Sam was forced to look at the face. White make-up covered everywhere except for an erratically animated red mouth which reached from nearly one ear to the other in a sinister grin. Black circles covered the already darkened eyes, and a bright red foam nose finished off the sickening look.

"Oh no," Sam clenched his fists in anger, "Couldn't you have picked a different one!"

"Come play Sammy," the clown's face spread widely, "I want to play."

Sam let out a slow breath, "…I bet you do…"

'Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm…'

Sam repeated the words over and over again in his mind all to no avail as his heart pounded harder and harder in his chest. Ever since he could remember he'd been terrified of clowns-- why he wasn't sure, but with a small smirk he had a feeling it had something to do with Dean hiding in the closet and scaring him while dressed as a clown when they were little. Either way, the one standing before him caused Sam's throat to tighten painfully and his palms to sweat.

"I-I know what you are," Sam swallowed past the dryness in his mouth, "It won't work."

"I think you're wrong there Sammy," a smile that spread to each ear, "Fear is an uncontrollable response to something. And I know exactly what those something's are for you and your pathetic brother."

Sam found himself slowly sinking down to the ground, his eyes subconsciously shutting to block out the image of the insane clown which closed in on him.

"What's wrong Sam?" the voice of Dean caused Sam's eyes to shoot open in excitement.

"Dean!?" Sam was to his feet in an instant, staring at his brother standing motionless in front of him, "What? How did you get here?"

"I have something I want to talk to you about," Dean's face was deadpan and serious, "I've been holding it back a long time, but I think it's time that you knew. Please listen."

"What is it?" Sam frowned.

"It's your fault," Dean looked disappointed, "Everything. Mom dying, Dad dying… even your girlfriend. It's your fault Sammy… I'm sorry."

"No," Sam gasped, "No… Dean, why are you saying this?"

Dean placed a comforting hand on Sam's arm, "Because it's true Sam."

-§-

"No!" Dean screamed, his hands over his head as the plane plummeted towards the earth bellow, "No!"

The passengers around him screamed in unison causing even more panic to shoot through Dean. He knew what was happening; that none of it was real, but he couldn't convince his brain of this important fact.

"We're going to crash!" a passenger's cry broke through the noise.

Dean gasped in, his eyes squeezed shut at the thought that a demon was finally going to win, and all because of his stupid fear of flying. He could feel his body sliding down the isle at the angle the plane was now plummeting in as the screams of the other passengers and himself blended into one.

Then it stopped.

"Given up already Dean?" the voice was calm and mocking.

Slowly Dean dared to open his eyes, and found himself in a brightly lit room with a single door on the far side. A small table stood in front of him with a pistol placed neatly on top. A man stood by the door, wearing a simple attire of jeans and a white t-shirt. His light brown hair struck out in contrast to the shinning black eyes.

"You," Dean stood to his feet, "You're what's causing all of this."

"Yes," the demon nodded and gestured towards the gun, "Please… finish me off."

Dean frowned and picked up the gun, "It's too easy."

"Yes," again the demon nodded easily.

"Where's Sam?" Dean keep his eyes on the piece of evil.

The demon shrugged, "Around."

"I want to see him," Dean's breath came deep, "Now."

"No," a smile creep to its face, "You'll have to kill me first."

"Fine," Dean cocked the gun and before he knew what he'd done, shot the demon in the chest.

A gasp came as it bent down to the ground in pain. A small flutter shot through Dean; didn't demon's usually do something else?

"D-Dean…" a gasp came from the demon's hunched over body, and slowly Dean took a step forwards.

"Oh God," Dean dropped the gun in shock as he stared down at the body.

Sam now lay where the demon had been, blood pooling under his shirt from the bullet wound.

"W-Why Dean?" Sam gasped, his eyes wide.

"No, no, no…" Dean fell to his knees beside his brother, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry Sammy, I didn't mean… it was the demon, and… no, please."

"It hurts," silent tears fell down Sam's face as Dean clutched him close.

"It's ok, it'll be ok," Dean pulled his outer shirt off and pressed it towards the wound, "I didn't mean to hurt you Sammy."

Sam's pain filled eyes stared up at Dean has a small trickle of blood came from the youngest hunter's mouth. Dean stared, horrorstricken as Sam's breath slowed down and his body became limp.

"No, please Sam! Please, just hang on…" tears crept down Dean's face, "…please…"

Sam's eyes softly closed as he took his last breath. Dean sunk his face into his brother's hair, the tears falling uncontrollably. Finally he moved back, looking down at his blood soaked hands.

"I'm so sorry Sammy," Dean gasped out, and leaned over to pick up the gun, "I-I didn't mean to…"

Hands trembling, Dean picked up the gun, and staring at Sam's dead body on the floor, cocked it. Closing his eyes shut, Dean slowly brought the gun towards his temple.

"Dean, no!" a sudden voice broke through the silence.

Dean's eyes shot open to see the interior of the motel room. Sam lunged towards him, and grabbed the gun that was still held in Dean's hand. Breathing deep, Dean looked around at everything, trying to register where he was and what had happened.

"Sam…" Dean managed to whisper out.

"Hey, yeah," Sam bent down in front of Dean, "I'm here. Are you alright?"

Dean put out a hand and clutched Sam's arm, closing his eyes briefly at the surge of emotions. It had all been a trick… the demon had played into Dean's greatest fear.

Killing Sam.

"Dean?" Sam spoke softly.

"Yeah," Dean's voice cracked, "Yeah, I'm alright. How about you?"

Sam sat fully on the floor across from Dean, "Besides waking up to see you trying to shoot yourself in the head, I'm fine."

Dean smiled apologetically, "Sorry… that bastard knew what buttons to push."

Sam laughed, "No kidding."

"What happened to you?" Dean looked at Sam carefully.

Nervously Sam avoided eye contact, "Umm… well, there was the given… a stupid clown. And… you."

"You're scared of me dude?" Dean half laughed.

"No," Sam rolled his eyes, "You were telling me that it was my fault. That it was because of me that Mom and Dad died."

"It wasn't," Dean cut in barely before Sam could finished.

"I know," Sam softly spoke, then cleared his throat before continuing, "So what about you?"

Dean shrugged, "Just an airplane that decided it didn't want to stay in the air."

"And that caused you to try and kill yourself?" Sam suspiciously asked.

"Dude, you pick; crashing into the ground in a fiery ball of fire at two hundred miles an hour, or a simple shot to the head," Dean defended, then quickly asked "So what killed this thing?"

"Oh," Sam paused a moment, sensing Dean was lying, "It was me. I figured out that you weren't you and that it was actually the demon so I put a clip through it."

"How'd you know it wasn't me?"

Sam smiled sincerely at his brother,"Because you'd never tell me that."

The End.