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Dean was angry. Always angry. Sam had stabbed him in the back and the world was going down the toilet. He refused to speak to Sam, refused to acknowledge him except when he had to. Never spoke fondly of him or about him. He didn't care what look Sam had on his face. It didn't matter. Sam deserved everything he got and more.

Dean woke up in an unfamiliar location. Except that suddenly it was. He sat up, turned to the bed next to him, and narrowed his eyes at a nine-year-old Sam. He suddenly understood what he needed to do. He needed to force Sam to understand that he couldn't just get away with dooming the world.

Dean stood as the motel door suddenly was off its hinges. A shapeshifter, he remembered, that was after Sam. He stood there, pondering about whether this little Sam deserved to be left to fend for himself or not, but the reminder of Sam decided it for him.

The shapeshifter lunged at Sam. Dean let it. It fell short of reaching the little boy, who jarred awake and trembled. Sam scrambled to his feet and tried to take refuge behind his brother. Dean refused to move to assist in protecting Sam. When the shapeshifter moved forwards, Dean stepped out of its way. Wide, terrified, betrayed eyes focused on Dean's as Sam was grabbed. Dean didn't care. Sam deserved it. All of it. And more.

John kicked down the door a few minutes later. The shapeshifter had scratched Sam to pieces. Dean was perfectly unmarred. John shot the shapeshifter in the heart and grabbed Sam. "THE •••• DID YOU DO, DEAN?!!!!!!" John demanded.

Dean smiled smugly. "I taught the brat a lesson. How's it feel to get stabbed in the back, Sammy?" Dean chuckled. Sam began crying and burrowing into his dad's arms.

John was not amused. "The •••• did Sammy do to deserve any of that?" he snarled.

Dean was not in the slightest put off. "Kid stabs me in the back and causes the apocalypse in the future, but I can't do anything about it. So, since I have an opportunity to show him how it feels, I decided to use it."

Suddenly, Dean was back in his present. Gabriel was standing in front of him, looking gravely disappointed. "So you think if you had stopped protecting Sam when he was little, the world would be a better place. Is that it?" Gabriel asked coldly.

"Well obviously." Dean scoffed.

"Then I'll show you what would have happened then." Gabriel muttered, then raised a hand.

Dean was suddenly in a motel room with himself. There were two beds. "Hey, he told me you were coming." alternate Dean said calmly.

"So this is what would have happened if I'd stopped protecting Sam?" Dean asked, peeking out the window.

"Yeah, works out great, huh?" alternate Dean said bitterly.

"So where's Sam?" Dean asked, glancing around.

"Committed suicide age 18." alternate Dean intoned, sitting on one of the beds.

Dean's eyes widened and he dropped onto the other bed. He would never have let that happen. This had to be a mistake. "How the heck did he do that?" he asked accusingly.

Alternate Dean narrowed his eyes at his counterpart. "I saw it happening. Every day I saw it happening. I didn't catch right away, of course. Didn't pay enough attention to. But all of a sudden he was depressed. Always slumped over, eyes on the ground, avoided contact with me all the time, never tried to start a conversation. I knew the signs. Teachers had a whole presentation on it and everything. But I had no idea what to do. Then Sam stayed home sick one day. I tried to talk him out of it, tried to talk dad into letting me stay home 'cause dad was heading out too, had to get something to another hunter. But dad dropped me off at school. I got home, found Sam on the floor. Drug overdose on top of being beyond wasted. Took every pill he could get his hands on. And there was nothing I could have done. It had been so long since I'd really given a crap that I didn't remember how to be a big brother." alternate Dean admitted finally, heaving a weary sigh.

Dean felt sick. Now that they had been said aloud, he realized Sam had shown some of them. Maybe all of them. "What about dad? Is he still alive? And is there an apocalypse anyway?" Dean pressed.

Alternate Dean gave a low, sad chuckle. "Dad was worse off than me. He tried to save Sam. Tried his hardest. It's why he'd started sticking around so much. When he came home and found out about Sam that evening, he hung himself. I had given up caring for so long I didn't remember how to. So I just went on. But hey, no apocalypse, right? And besides, not like I need anybody around." alternate Dean shrugged.

Dean couldn't understand anything beyond the fact that this version of him was alone. All the time. "Did he ever talk about killing himself?" Dean asked tensely.

"Yeah. I heard him mention it to Bobby a few times. And dad once. It's what got dad to start sticking around."

Dean nodded once. His mind was focused more on how he could fix his relationship with his brother, because now that he thought about it Sam had been talking about killing himself a lot lately. And he guessed he was extremely lucky to remember how to be a big brother. Even though he had been determined to never forgive Sam for his mistakes. That was all it was, a massive mistake.

Dean was suddenly back in the motel room with his little brother. Sam was huddled in bed, feigning sleep. Dean could tell. "Sam?" he asked quietly.

Sam sighed and sat up. Dean suddenly wondered if he really did know what to do.  But it was already too late to back out. "Yeah?" Sam asked tiredly, posture folded in on itself.

"Sammy, I know I've been mad at you for a long time now. I know-"

Sam shook his head. "I deserve it. I betrayed you. But I kept waiting for you to do what you said you would."

Dean paused, trying to think of anything he might have said he would do to Sam, but for the life of him he couldn't remember even talking to Sam. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. What did I say I would do to you?" Dean asked.

Sam fished out his phone. "You all but said you were gonna kill me if we saw each other again." Sam answered, playing a voicemail that Dean recognized as having been sent by him the day Sam went to kill Lilith. Dean listened, and was immediately assaulted by his voice, loud and angry and full of hate, calling Sam a monster, a vampire, and saying that he was done trying to save Sam. This wasn't the voice mail he'd sent his baby brother. These were words he could never, would never, say to Sam. Not for anything. How could Sam think this came from him?

Suddenly, Dean understood. He had reached up to grab the amulet, only to remember having thrown it away. Dean felt sick with disgust at himself. He remembered not having the energy to care as he turned and left that room. But now that he was trying so hard, he remembered the broken look on Sam's face. Sam had given that amulet to him, back before the •••• hit the fan, as a sign of his love towards his big brother. Dean had never taken it off. And then he found out about Sam's mistakes, and he had given it to Castiel. And then when he learned it was useless, he had dumped it. Sam had been punished so severely for an addiction he was /born/ to suffer from. Sam had tried to reach out, tried to ask for help, and Dean had left him to deal with it alone.

But how could Sam have thought Dean could work up the nerve to kill him? Dean didn't take long to find an answer. And it wasn't one he was happy to acknowledge. Sam had been called both a monster and a freak by almost everyone around him. He had been raised to believe that all monsters should be killed. It was all starting to make such awful, perturbing sense.

"Dean? Y-you okay?" Sam asked timidly.

Dean snapped back to the present and realized his prolonged silence had probably made Sam nervous, at the absolute least. "•••, Sammy, I've been such an •••hole to you." he lamented, throwing his arms around his little brother. Sam blinked in surprise, joy, and fear. "That voicemail isn't the one I sent you. I swear. The one I sent you, I was trying to apologize for acting like dad and trying to let you know I forgave you. I'd never say I couldn't save you. Never say I wanted to kill you. Never could." Dean paused as another horrifying realization struck. "Is that why you went in there? To fight Lilith? Were you planning not to make it?"

Sam ducked his head into Dean's shoulder, suddenly sobbing. Dean did his best to soothe his languished brother. When Sam had gotten it mostly under control, he replied, "I thought maybe I could die taking out the demon that took you away. I owed you that much at least. Then you wouldn't have to kill me or be afraid of her. I could go out doing the right thing. But I was wrong. And I failed everyone." Sam was notably struggling to keep from breaking down against his brother again.

"Sammy…" Dean said sadly, cupping the back of Sam's neck. "I've been mad at you for so long, and then I find out it wasn't even your fault. I'm just…I'm so sorry."

"Where were you earlier anyway?" Sam mumbled.

"Your angel decided I should see what would have happened if I had stopped caring about you when I was fifteen." Dean mumbled.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"I met myself, he was in a motel room with two beds in it. So I asked him where you were. He told me you killed yourself at age 18. He had forgotten how to be a big brother, so he didn't know how to save you. And you just slipped through his fingers. Dad started taking an interest again, because even he could see it was getting bad. He had to leave to deliver some things to another hunter, the other me was forced to go to school. You stayed home sick. When they got back, you were dead. You'd taken every pill you could find and drank well past legal limit of alcohol. Dad turned around and hung himself for leaving your side." Dean explained forlornly.

Sam cuddled in close to his big brother. Dean was upset. Dean was upset that in some bizarro universe, he hadn't cared about Sam, and had lost what was left of his family for it. Sam had needed comfort for ages, and right now Dean needed to care. So Sam accepted the comfort just the smell of his brother supplied and allowed Dean to take comfort in their closeness.

Gabriel smirked and turned to his own little brother. "Told you I could fix this one." he said smugly.

Castiel nodded. "I never said I doubted your ability. I simply said I could not."

Gabriel chuckled a little. "Yeah, well, you wanna give 'em some actual privacy or are we gonna just keep staring at them?"

"I believe it would be best to give them some time to themselves." Castiel said, squinting slightly at the two hunters. "I hope this is a lesson neither of them soon forget."

"Me too." And with that Gabriel took off with Castiel following right behind him. The two angels took turns picking activities until either hunter called them. Balthazar joined at one point early in the morning and not long after they were wreaking havoc on unsuspecting cupids.
"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry!?" Sam hissed, trailing Dean. Dean was still upset about what Sam had said while under the influence of the siren.

"Until you actually mean it." Dean grumbled, scowling at Sam over his shoulder.

"I meant it the first time!"

"Yeah. Right." Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Then how about you save it until I can trust you?"

"You /can/ trust me!"

"No, I can't. You've been lying to me and hiding things from me since I came back. You leave whenever you think I'm asleep. That doesn't sound like somebody I can trust."

Sam sighed and lowered his head, maintaining eye contact. "Dean, please…"

Dean turned away. Sam's heart sank. The rest of the day, Sam payed more attention to Dean. By the time they returned to the motel, Sam was fighting heartbreak. Dean really didn't trust him.

Sam sat up in bed once it seemed that Dean was asleep. He hugged his knees to his chest, his thoughts pure torture as he thought everything through.

"No." Dean mumbled. Sam raised his head immediately to see the terrified look on Dean's face. "No. Please. No!" Sam unsteadily rose to his feet. Dean let out a cry of agony. Sam shook Dean awake and brought him into a sitting position. Still worried, he held Dean close. Dean was breathing unevenly with a look of abject terror on his face.

"Dean? Are…are you okay?" Sam asked worriedly.

Dean glanced at Sam and pushed away immediately. "I'm fine, Sam!" he snapped, looking away. "Just another nightmare."

'Another? He's been having these often?' Sam thought as he sat back down on his bed. "You gonna be able to get back to sleep?"

"Yeah."

"You…wanna talk about it?"

"Oh, don't give me that!"

"What?"

"Don't pretend it suddenly matters!"

"It does matter! And I just wanna help!"

"Don't bother. I've been getting along just fine without you."

Sam nodded his head solemnly. "Yeah. Okay." he said nonchalantly. Once Dean was asleep again, Sam went into the bathroom and got in the shower. Relying on the running water to cover his tears, he curled up on the shower floor and wept.

The next day was worse than the one before. Sam could feel Dean's tenseness whenever Dean had his back turned. That night, once Dean had fallen asleep, Sam sat in the shower and cried.

The following morning, Dean looked at Sam's face. "You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine." Sam answered, turning his head.

"Dude, your eyes are all red and puffy."

"I'm /fine/."

"And you've got /bags/ under your eyes!"

"Just drop it, okay?!"

Dean glared at Sam. Sam felt his chest tighten. "Whatever." Dean bit out, stomping away.

The rest of the day followed the same pattern as the past two. The next morning, Dean grabbed the sides of Sam's face. "You look worse than you did yesterday." Dean muttered.

"I'm fine, okay?" Sam huffed. Dean nearly snarled as he shoved Sam away. Sam nearly fell, but managed to get his balance quickly.

That afternoon, Dean brought Sam with him to a bar. They had a few drinks, but Sam avoided getting too drunk. However, Dean managed to almost get into a bar fight with seven other guys. Sam stepped in quickly enough to placate the seven men long enough to get his brother out of the bar. As they neared the Impala, Dean turned to Sam and uppercut punched him in the jaw. Sam fell backwards and yelped as his head cracked against the pavement.

Sam tried to hold it in, but the lack of sleep and the shock of pain won out. He cried. Dean blinked in surprise. "Sammy?" he asked softly. Sam sobbed, choking against the pain. "Crap. Sammy, I'm sorry." Dean sputtered, crouching beside Sam and wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulder. Slowly, Dean began to fade into sleep.

Dean woke to Sam watching him and a /bad/ headache. Sam had a small bump on the back of his head, a split lip, and a rather colorful bruise under his chin; along with the usual dark rings around red, bloodshot, and puffy eyes. The second Dean twitched, Sam sat up a bit straighter.

Sam stood and shuffled to their duffel bags, returning with a bottle of water and two aspirin. "Here." he murmured, handing the pills to Dean, opening the bottle, and handing that over too.

"Were you up all night?" Dean asked, shifting uncomfortably.

Distrustingly.

Sam shook his head. "No. Woke up to the alarm clock. You whined and turned over. I figured you ought to get more sleep."

Dean's mouth twitched. "Thanks. I guess." he muttered. "What happened to you?"

Sam lowered his gaze. "You almost got in a fight at the bar. I wasn't anywhere near as drunk as you, so I came over and talked them down long enough to get you out of there."

"Okay… but where'd you get the bruise?"

"You."

"I…what?"

"You. As in I got it from you. We were almost to the car when you turned around all of a sudden and punched me. I fell and hit my head on the pavement pretty hard. You passed out, so I carried you to the car and put you in the passenger seat. Carried you in and put you in bed."

Dean pursed his lips. Sighing and lowering his head, he clenched his fists. He looked up at Sam again. "Does…does it…hurt?"

"It's a little sore, but I'm alright."

"Glad to hear it." Dean said, though the clenching of his jaw and fists said otherwise. Sam didn't fail to notice that for all the world Dean seemed disappointed that Sam wasn't still in pain. He felt his chest tighten to the point he felt like he was going to either choke or sob/ he got up and headed toward the bathroom. "Hey, where are you going?!" Dean snapped.

"The bathroom. I'm gonna take a shower." Sam answered coldly.

"You seem to be doing that a lot. Something I should know about?" Dean asked bitterly.

"Nothing you'd give a crap about." Sam mumbled, opening the bathroom door and slamming it behind him.

Dean paused, thinking about how Sam had answered. Sighing, he walked over to the bathroom door and knocked. "Sam, come on, just tell me!" he called. He pressed his ear to the door, hoping for an answer. Sam didn't say anything, but, thanks to having an ear to the door, it wasn't necessary. Crying. That was why Sam kept going to the bathroom. Dean felt weak in his knees.

When Sam came out of the bathroom, Dean had the concerned and caring face on and grabbed the sides of Sam's face. Sam eyed Dean suspiciously, wincing when Dean gingerly touched the multi-colored bruise. He tried to twist away, but Dean grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Sh sh sh sh. Take it easy." Dean murmured.

Sam stilled, staring wide-eyed at Dean. Dean cupped Sam's jaw to hold him still. He lightly touched the bruise again. Sam whimpered softly in distress but held almost perfectly still. Dean's eyes softened as he put his hands on Sam's shoulders again. Sam's eyes still held a vast amount of skepticism. Dean gingerly touched the still-swollen bump on the back of Sam's head. Sam hissed in pain and his knees gave out. Dean caught Sam in his arms.

Dean situated himself on the bed and situated Sam next to him. "Sam…I'm sorry, okay?"

"Why're you sorry?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's fine. If I hadn't made this mess, none of this would've ever happened."

Dean shook his head. "It is /not/ 'fine'! I hurt you!"

"The weird thing is, it's the least painful thing to happen to me all week." Sam sighed. "Least painful thing you've done to me all week."

Dean opened his mouth to argue that hadn't done anything to Sam until yesterday. However, he thought about what he had learned about Sam taking a shower every night. For the past four days. He then realized that yesterday was the first physical wound he had inflicted on Sam. "Sammy…"

"Forget it. It's no big deal."

"How can it /not/ be a big deal!?"

"It's nothing worse than I deserve."

Dean paled slightly at that. "What do you mean?"

"This is all my fault. And I'm done. Done with the lying, the hiding, and all the pretending I don't need help; because I do. I need help. I need it bad. Dean, I need /your/ help."

"With what? What's going on, Sammy?"

"I'm an addict. But…before I explain everything, you gotta promise not to hate me or be angry at me."

"Sam, what did you do?"

"I didn't start it. I didn't know until I was taken by the yellow-eyed demon. And after that it was too late. When you were taken Downstairs, Ruby showed up and she loaded me up with so much I couldn't stop wanting more. But I…I was too afraid to tell you before. So please, promise me."

"Okay, Sammy, okay. I promise."

"I'm addicted to demon blood."

Dean seemed almost completely unresponsive. Then he looked sort of like a dying fish as his mouth opened and closed, trying to find words. "What?!" Sam nodded. "How could you keep that from me!?" Sam lowered his head. "Nevermind. Just…just kinda…"

"Yeah, I know…"

"Don't worry, Sammy. We're gonna get you cleaned up. But…uh…how bad's the withdrawal?"

"/BAD/."

"What's it like?"

"It flings me into things along with all the normal withdrawal symptoms."

"Yeesh."

"Yeah."

Sam and Dean sat quietly for a minute or two. "One last thing…have you slept at all in the last few days?"

"No."

Dean nodded with a sarcastic smile. "Dammit, Sam…"

"Sorry…"

Dean shook his head. "No. It's my fault."

"It's both our faults."

"Anyway, any /other/ life altering confessions you wanna lay on me while you're at it?"

Sam chuckled dryly. "That I want to? No. And none that are anywhere near as major."

"But there /is/ more."

"Yeah. Uh, while you were gone, I lost about half my weight, I was anorexic, alcoholic, had sex almost every other night, smoked, and…um…" Sam flinched at this part. "I crashed the Impala…at least three times…that I can remember."

Dean's face displayed so much anger it practically radiated heat. "You. WHAT?!" he snarled.

"I didn't mean to! I was so wasted I don't remember how it happened!" Sam flustered. "I got a professional to put her back together! Good as new! Guy used to build Impalas, so he had all the parts!" Sam blushed a little. "Spent a few days looking for somebody good enough to pass your kind of inspection. Guy didn't work as a mechanic. He was retired. So I offered him a couple hundred. He accepted."

The fury changed to pride. "Atta boy, Sammy."

Sam lowered his head as the blush spread further. "But I'd keep away from the back seat if I were you."

Dean scowled. "Why?"

"Let's just say it might still be a little sticky from a few times I had company."

"You're scrubbing it out tomorrow."

"What!?"

"You heard me."

"Knew I should've stayed quiet…"

"If I'd checked the back, I can promise you you'd have another bruise or two to worry about."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry…"

Dean smirked and looped an arm around Sam's shoulders. "Still, you're gonna scrub it out tomorrow. Today, we're gonna fix this mess." Sam looked at Dean in surprise. "We've both screwed up, so we gotta pull it back together." Warmth spread across Sam's face, then he yawned. Dean pulled Sam closer. "Sleep, Sammy. I gotcha." Dean sighed as Sam drifted off.
Trust
This is what came to me after watching the episode with the siren three times in a row before bed.
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I may very well have bronchitis, but every time I cough some idiot in my school asks me if I have Ebola. 

Last night was the premier of season 10 of supernatural. I was watching. The second the new episode started to come on, the cable went out. I growled demonically at my tv for several minutes.

I coughed up fluid in my sleep while lying on my back. I woke up drowning in my bed. 

I can't seem to get warm anymore. 

Screw it. Just screw it.
I've been wanting to post descriptions of my OC's for a while now, but I have two problems. 1. I'm not sure if anyone would even look at them 2. I am completely uncomfortable with the idea of trying to describe my characters since I have recently reached the conclusion that I am not good a describing people. If I /do/ post descriptions, however, I'll be able to post more stories and stuff. A second opinion would be very much aprreciated as it will tip the scale either way depending on what the opinion is. 
I may very well have bronchitis, but every time I cough some idiot in my school asks me if I have Ebola. 

Last night was the premier of season 10 of supernatural. I was watching. The second the new episode started to come on, the cable went out. I growled demonically at my tv for several minutes.

I coughed up fluid in my sleep while lying on my back. I woke up drowning in my bed. 

I can't seem to get warm anymore. 

Screw it. Just screw it.

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Lacey Vulpix
Artist | Hobbyist | Literature
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Hello. My name is Rena Hill. I am BEST friends with :iconsertoto: and I write stories.
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:iconpengie9290:
pengie9290 Featured By Owner Oct 25, 2014
I know this is far in advance, but would you be willing to have a Versus of PMD Explorers of Sky with me (and... seven? other people, should they agree to it?)

...It would probably be a year from now or more, but do you think you'd be up for it?
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:iconblizzardtheabsol:
blizzardtheabsol Featured By Owner Oct 29, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I'd love to. Just let me know when, where, and how.
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:iconpengie9290:
pengie9290 Featured By Owner Oct 31, 2014
Okay! It'd be with an emulator over Skype. And... it would probably be in a couple of years. At least one. Most likely 2 or 3.
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:iconblizzardtheabsol:
blizzardtheabsol Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
Oh. Skype won't work. I had a Skype but I don't remember the password or user name but I can't make a new one with my email address.
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(1 Reply)
:iconladymintleaf:
LadyMintLeaf Featured By Owner Oct 3, 2014   General Artist
Thank you very much for the :+fav:||:D
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:iconblizzardtheabsol:
blizzardtheabsol Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
I fav what I like and like what I fav, and I really loved it. 
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:iconmsrain:
MsRain Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Ninja icon Thanks for watching!  Dancing Pumkin head 2 
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:iconblizzardtheabsol:
blizzardtheabsol Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You had so much awesome stuff that I felt the urge to just fav everything, but my mom wanted me for something, so I decided it would be far easier to click watch so I can go back at any time to look at all of your art.
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:iconmsrain:
MsRain Featured By Owner Oct 10, 2014  Hobbyist Digital Artist
thanks!!! Pwease 
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:iconblizzardtheabsol:
blizzardtheabsol Featured By Owner Oct 15, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
No thanks necessary. ;) Just keep up the excellent work.
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