CHAPTER 6

Sam stared at his brother's back as he stormed out. He knew there was no way Dean would actually leave him, but he was mortified that Izzy and Travis' hospitality had been thrown back in their faces. And selfishly, he was hurt by the words hurled at him. He knew he shouldn't have pushed about the fantasy world, but in true sibling form in his anger he had retaliated no-holds-barred. Barely pausing to look over at the frozen McCormicks, he mumbled an apology and fled the opposite direction from Dean. He headed for the barn, realizing some part of him was listening for the Impala to start up and peel off down the road. Knock it off Sam he chastised himself leaving is your m.o., not Dean's. That thought made him incredibly sad.

Reaching the barn and slowly stepping inside, Sam felt the burst of energy that had fueled him through the argument and subsequent flight seep away, leaving him feeling bone-weary. Grumbling to himself, he decided the loft was too much work and sank down onto the bales of hay. Leaning his head back, his thoughts and emotions in turmoil, he slowly lost track of his surroundings as he gave into his recovering body's need for sleep.

He startled as he heard the Impala roar away. Jumping up, Sam raced down to the house and into the kitchen, only to stop abruptly. Instead of encountering Izzy as expected, he instead beheld Jess comforting his crying Mom. Puzzled, he stood stock-still, heart flooding with emotion as he took in his long-dead girlfriend and the Mom he only knew through pictures.

"Jess…" he whispered longingly. "...Mom…" he added in a broken voice. Staring, he watched as Jess patted his mom gently on the shoulder and ushered her to the hallway, then turned back to him, her face flushed in delicate anger.

Before he could say anything she started in hotly, "Sam, I know he's your brother, but Dean…he's an irresponsible, care-for-nothing, flighty man, and you and your Mom would be better off if you stopped letting him mooch off you." Jess was pacing in front of him, agitated, but when she glanced back at him her face then changed to remorse and she reached out to place her palm on his cheek. He leaned into her hand greedily. "I'm sorry, love, I know you hoped that his relationship with Carmen would have helped him, but some people just never change. It might be time to cut ties."

Sam swallowed, wanting to wrap his arms around her and kiss her senseless, yet horrified by her words and still struggling for clarity on what was happening. Had the djinn somehow found him? They had killed it though… realizing she was waiting for a response he rasped out, "What did he do?"

"What didn't he do?" she replied tartly. "We caught him ransacking your mom's good silver, and then when he realized the jig was up he started weaving some fantastical tale about an alternate reality… Your mom asked him gently what he was on, and he got angry with her. As if he had any right to be angry! Then he said sorry, that he loved her, that he was going to fix things, and then took off."

"I need to go after him." Sam said urgently, striding toward the door. He was halted by a hand on his chest, and he looked down into the eyes of the only woman he'd ever truly loved as his heart filled with grief at what he was about to do.

"Sam, no. It's time to let him go." she pleaded. "Stay. Stay with me, please."

"Sam, he made his choice." his Mom said from the kitchen doorway.

"Mom." Sam said, almost reverently, and wrapped her in a rib-crushing hug.

"Sam! Gentle, please." she gasped out, then returned the hug. Sam soaked in this moment, drawing it deep into his memory for the future. Then she continued as they pulled apart, "I'm just glad you turned out ok." His brow wrinkled at that. This might be an alternate reality, but there was no world for Sam where Dean was a loser, a jerk, or not his brother. There was no lifetime where he wouldn't go to the ends of the earth to save him. Reluctantly he pulled back from his Mom, smiling his love to her. Whirling he grabbed and kissed Jessica deeply, pouring all his heart into the kiss. They broke apart, both a little dazed, and then Sam turned abruptly and walked out the front door, blocking out the women's calls to stop and stay, even as he felt his heart torn and bleeding.

Walking quickly down the sidewalk, it dawned on him he didn't have a vehicle, even as he puzzled where Dean might have gone. Thinking through what he'd been told about the djinn world Dean had experienced, he wondered if his altered reality was somehow mirroring his brother's. That meant he needed to go back to that warehouse…that horrid warehouse. Finding an old Ford truck left unlocked he checked the visor and the keys flopped into his lap. Starting the truck he mused, oh for the days when neighborhoods felt safe enough to leave things unlocked… oh right, he'd never had that. Steeling his resolve, he floored the gas pedal. He would save his brother, somehow.

The warehouse was as remembered, and he quickly walked to where his brother was strung up, life-blood slowly draining from him into the collection bag hanging next to him. He looked even worse than last time, more far gone, and not stirring in the least. "Dean, Dean, wake up!" he implored, even as he reached into his pocket for his knife to cut him down.

"It won't work, you know." Dean said from behind him. Whirling, Sam saw his alternate reality brother leaning against the support beam, looking relaxed yet the underlying tension was radiating off of him.

"It worked last time." Sam replied stubbornly, reaching to cut through the rope holding his brother captive.

"Yeah, but last time you weren't here too." Dean replied, nodding to another form hanging a short ways away. An empty gnawing started in the pit of Sam's stomach as he walked over to see what victim was strung up there. Horrified, he realized it was himself! He stumbled back, confused, frightened, and naturally his eyes sought Dean's.

Dean smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "You almost rescued me, but the djinn got you first. We're both his victims now."

"No." Sam stuttered, unwilling to believe him. "No, I got you out. Scratch that, you got yourself out, and then saved me!"

"I almost got out." Dean corrected. "And I tried to save you, but I couldn't get free. I'm sorry Sammy, I am. I tried."

"No." he repeated, turning, looking for something to contradict Dean's words, but their bodies were right there, draining slowly before his eyes. "Dean, we have to wake up. No one is coming, we have to rescue ourselves man."

Dean looked away, the very epitome of defeat. "I tried Sam, believe me, I tried. It's no use."

"Like hell!" Sam exploded. "The you I know - the real you -" he said, gesturing to the captured Dean, " - he would never back down, never give up."

"So what, Sam? What do you want to do? I killed myself once already, and although I didn't get loose, it hurt like hell. Not really wanting to try that again."

Sam stared at him, anger at his passiveness flooding him, then abruptly drew back and punched him. Dean stared back, fingering his jaw and split lip. Sam deliberately pulled out his knife, seeing the surprise and then resolve in his AU brother's eyes. With a growl Dean charged, knocking the blade away even as he let loose a barrage of punches. The brothers were evenly matched, but Dean fought dirty and finally pinned Sam to the ground, arm cutting across his windpipe. Sam stared into those familiar eyes, feeling a sense of betrayal even as this outcome had been his intent when he started. Dean pulled back, even as he mentally shouted, no! Finish it! but a moment later his chest flared in searing white-hot pain, and he glanced down to find his own knife embedded there. Looking back up to Dean's face he watched mesmerized as tears cascaded down. Dean leaned in close and whispered, "Be free, Sammy, save yourself brother." I love you, his eyes spoke, even as Sam's sight narrowed and darkened, and his breaths became gasps.

Gasping again, Sam came awake, feeling a painful tug on his wrist and a slap to his cheek, then a pinch as something was pulled out of his neck. Forcing his eyes to focus, he saw an unknown man in front of him, clearly a hunter himself, who nodded even as he sawed through his bonds. Catching him as he sagged, the man maneuvered him over to a wooden crate and settled him on the floor with his back against the crate.

"Drink." he said roughly, holding a bottle of water to Sam's lips. Sam winced as the blood flow to his wrists started pinching painfully and sipped gratefully.

"My brother," he rasped, " get my brother. Please." The man looked at him sorrowfully.

"You're the only survivor here son." he replied somberly.

Sam swallowed, but begged, "Please, cut him down. Please let me have him." Staring back at him, the man nodded finally and moved away to repeat the rescue motions with Dean. Carrying him carefully, he lowered Dean's body onto Sam's lap. "Dean," Sam whispered, brushing at his hair gently, then tapping his cheek, "Dean, wake up." His movements became a little more frenzied and forceful when he couldn't detect a pulse nor breath. "Dean, damn it, you can't leave me. You can't do this to me!"

"I'm sorry son."

"I'm not your son!" Sam snapped, then felt remorse, knowing the guy had only been trying to help. "Sorry, thank you - "

"Carl." He paused as Sam pulled his brother close to him and the tears started falling. "I'm going to go deal with the djinn's remains and give you a minute." Sam didn't even acknowledge him, his grief all-consuming. Damn self-sacrificing brothers, he cried mentally, why doesn't he understand I don't want to live if he's dead? Why did we have to be too late to save him? What am I supposed to do now? Lifting his head up, a heartbroken, rending cry of angst tore from him, filling the space and echoing through the rafters.