A/N: Hello dear readers. This was an idea that rolled around in my head for days until I finally put it to paper. I wanted to explore the emotions that each brother felt during this time and what if it had a different ending. This is a dark short story and there is death in it. I hope you enjoy the read. Reviews would make my day. NC

Disclaimer: I do not own SPN and this is my own creation. Any errors are my own.

Warning: There is suicide and death in this story.


Dean sat at the table in the motel room and looked once again through their Dad's journal trying to find something or someone to help his younger brother. He slammed the book shut and wiped a hand down his weary face as he hit another dead end. There had to be something out there if he could just find it.

When Castiel had destroyed the Great Wall of Sam, that was in Sam's head, causing him to start hallucinating about the time he had spent in the Cage with Lucifer and Michael being tortured every single day, Sam started his downward spiral. Each day afterwards, Sam got worse especially when Lucifer started making appearances and had Sam doubting everything that he though was real, even Dean. Lucifer tried to convince him he was still in the Cage and this was all his doing. He let Sam think he had gotten out to screw with him.

Dean tried to show Sam how to tell what was real and what wasn't, but it still didn't help him. He did his best to hide it from Dean until he couldn't take anymore and split. He tried booze, drugs, anything to stop the incessant noises that echoed in his head. Lucifer was going all out, trying to drive Sam insane. He used firecrackers, drums, singing, talking, making him see maggots in his food, anything to push him over the edge and not give him a moments rest.

Sam was lucky to get an hour of sleep a day, he couldn't eat because it always turned either rotten or full of maggots. He was able to drink enough to stay alive, but just barely. His latest attempt with drugs had him running into traffic and getting hit by a car.

Sam was taken to a psych hospital and put under seventy-two hour suicide hold. Dean had been contacted and raced to the hospital to find Sam drugged out of his mind and from what the doctor told him Sam was dying. His body was shutting down and if they couldn't get him out of the fugue state he was in, there was no hope for his recovery.

Dean's cell began to ring, and he dug it out from under the paperwork to answer it.

"Hello," Dean grunted wearily.

"Is this Dean Winchester?" a male voice asked.

"Yes."

"This is Dr. Billings from the psychiatric hospital…"

"Has something happened to my brother?" Dean butted it before he could continue.

"I'm sorry to tell you Mr. Winchester but your brother is gone."

"Gone, you mean he died?" Dean yelled as his anger rose. "Why wasn't I called?"

"No, no, sir. Your brother broke out of the hospital some time yesterday. He knocked an orderly out, tied and gagged him, and put him in his bed. This wasn't discovered until this morning. Sam used his badge to escape."

"Sonovab…" Dean cussed as he jumped from the chair, and started to pace the motel room. His mind was racing, trying to figure out where Sam would go in a city where he knew no one. "I'm on my way," Dean told the doctor before hanging up. He started gathering his clothes and stuffing them in his duffel and went to the bathroom to get his things. Dean shouldered his bags and headed out to the Impala to put them in the trunk. He pulled from the motel and headed back to the psych hospital where he had left his brother, thinking it would be safe for him.

spn

Sam chocked the orderly until he was unconscious and quickly used the torn pillowcase to tie his hands and gag him. He took his wallet, badge, and keys before putting him in his bed and covering him up. He went to the door and opened it enough to see outside if the hall was empty. Sam crept out of the room and headed for the dining hall, hoping to get out through a service bay. The hospital had alarms, but it was not hard to bypass them and Sam walked away from the building and to the parking lot, trying to find the orderly's car. He clicked the key until the lights blinked on a Ford pickup. He got into the truck and started it and pulled from the parking lot. He headed away from the hospital with no set place to go. He couldn't go to Dean and burden him with his problems. Sam was not going back to the hospital when he saw it wasn't doing any good.

He pulled out onto the main road and headed away from the town and his brother. He needed to find someplace to lay low and to try and think what his next move was going to be. He cringed as the firecrackers started up again in his head making him jerk the wheel of the car to the side and got it under control and back on the road. He drew in a shaky breath as he tried to ignore the pops that seemed to get louder with each one. He concentrated on the road as he gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingers turned white.

The rest area sign loomed in the headlights of the truck as Sam pulled off the main road and on to the exit, slowing as he rounded the curve and pulled to a stop at the building. He sat behind the wheel for a few minutes and worked on slowing down his racing heart and getting some control over his body. He got out and went to the restroom first. Sam came out of the stall and went to the sink to splash cold water on his face. He pulled out towels and wiped the water dripping down his face and looked at his haggard face in the mirror. He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly before turning to head back outside.

Sam pulled the stolen wallet from his pocket and checked it for cash. He found thirty-seven dollars and took a credit card before tossing it in the trash. He knew if he used the card, Dean could track him, but maybe if he filled the truck up on the road and tossed the card, he could buy him some time before Dean found the charge. Sam walked from the restroom and headed for the vending machines, wanting something to drink. He fed bills into the machine and looked at his selections before punching a button. The drink dropped to the bottom and he reached over to retrieve it as a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he grabbed the machine to keep from falling.

After his head cleared, Sam straightened up and drew in some long breaths before moving to the other machine to get some crackers, hoping eating something would help. He stopped at the big map and checked to see where he was and where the next large city was. He figured it would be easier to get lost in a city full of strangers than a small town where everyone knew everyone.

He took his purchases to the truck and got in, sitting heavily into the seat. He opened the soda and took a long swallow hoping the sugar would revive him. The sweetness hit him like a freight train as the sugar rushed through his veins making him tremble and gasp.

Once he got the crackers opened, Sam popped one in his mouth and started chewing slowly. He wouldn't look at the package they were in, afraid of what he would see. He washed it down with more soda and felt slightly better. He cranked the truck and checked the gas gauge seeing he was down to a quarter of a tank. He decided to stop at the next gas station to fill up.

spn

Dean pulled into the parking lot of the psych hospital and parked in a visitor's parking space. He got out and reined in his anger as he marched to the front entrance and went inside. He didn't bother to stop at the desk as he made his way to the doctor's offices.

"Excuse me, sir!" a receptionist called to him as Dean ignored her, knowing who he needed to see. He rounded a corner and was stopped by a guard standing in the way.

"You don't want to do this," Dean growled at him as he balled his hands into fists and made ready to attack.

"It's okay Marty, I know him," Dr. Billings said. "Dean, come with me, let's talk in my office," he suggested.

Dean didn't say anything as he stomped after the doctor and into his office. He turned on the doctor as he stepped behind his desk to keep some space between them.

"What happened?" Dean demanded as he leaned on the desk and glared death daggers at the doctor.

"Your brother was resourceful. He didn't take his medicine for several days, so he wasn't sedated. When the orderly came in to check on him, Sam put him in a headlock rendering him unconscious. He tied and gagged the orderly and put him in his bed. When the other checks were made, they thought it was Sam."

"Did he take anything from the orderly?" Dean questioned already putting himself in Sam's shoes.

"Yes, his wallet, badge, and keys."

"What does he drive?"

"A Ford truck. Should I call the police?"

"No, I'll handle this. I can find him faster than the cops and with less hassle. I need to talk to the orderly."

"I sent him home for the day."

"Do you have the license plate of his truck in his file and a description of the truck? And I'll need the orderly's name and phone number to see if he had any credit cards."

"Let me check." The doctor moved to a filing cabinet and pulled out a drawer to thumb through the files. He pulled one out and went back to the desk. "His name was Norman Reed and yes, we have his license plate number, but nothing other than it's a Ford. Let me write it down for you."

"Oh, and, be sure to add his phone number," Dean told him.

Dr. Billings looked up at the angry man and did as he was told. He could see the rage in him and didn't want to cross him. This was a man who would seek his revenge on those he thought wronged him or his brother.

Dean took the paper and got up to leave. He looked back at the doctor for a moment before speaking.

"Thank you for trying to help Sammy," he said before leaving. Dean headed back to his car and pulled his cell out to call the orderly. When he answered, Dean questioned him about credit cards and asked him not to cancel it just yet. He knew if Sam used it, he could track him that way. Dean got a description of the truck so he could check traffic cams and try to find it. He promised to let him know if he found his truck and return it. With that information, Dean went in search of an internet café so he could start trying to track which way Sam went. With him having a vehicle it was going to make it harder, but he knew his brother better than he knew himself and Dean would find him. He had to, there was no giving up. Guilt ate away at him because Dean thought this was his fault. He had let Sam down om many times in his life and the guilt just kept building inside of him.

spn

It had been over a week now and Sam was a walking zombie. He moved stiffly through the homeless encampment wanting to find an isolated place to stay. He had ditched the truck when it ran out of gas and was on foot now. He had been moving through out the city, never staying in one place too long so he could try and avoid his brother. Sam knew Dean was out there searching for him and he couldn't let him find him, not yet, not until he did what he had to do.

The night was chilly, and blackness was held at bay by fires burning in metal drums. Sam stayed in the shadows and pulled his jacket closer to his body as he stumbled along, trying not to fall. His mind was almost gone now. He had been driven insane by Lucifer's constant barrage on him. He couldn't stop shaking anymore and had maybe slept a couple of hours in the past week. Sam had a ratty, small backpack that he carried everything he owned right now. He had used the remainder of his money on a burner phone to use when the time came.

After Sam cleared the encampment, he headed for some abandoned buildings that were a few blocks away. He moved down the allies and looked over his shoulder with each noise that he heard. He couldn't block Lucifer's singing from his head anymore. His head felt like it was going to explode now, and he had downed dozens of Tylenol tablets, to try and relieve some of the pain but it wasn't doing a thing to help. He kept moving until he had the buildings in sight and headed for the first one.

Sam pushed his greasy, dirty hair from his face and shivered uncontrollably. He had not showered since breaking out of the hospital, nor changed his clothes. He reeked of body odor and his clothes were filthy from sleeping outside wherever he could find a place. He had hardly eaten and only drank water during this time. He stumbled when a loud explosion went off in his mind, making him clutch his head between his hands and dig his fingers into his hair, pulling hard. The noise seemed to echo around in his head for hours when it was only minutes. He dug his nails into his scalp wanting to get into his brain to dig out the cancer that was destroying him. Sam slumped back against the wall in the alley trying to stay on his feet until the episode passed.

Once Sam was functional, he pushed from the wall and shuffled toward the buildings, looking at each one and chose the last one. He looked at the address of the building before going to the door and found it locked. Since he didn't have his lock pick kit, he moved around the building trying to find another entrance. He found a door at a loading dock and used a metal pipe to break the lock off so he could go inside.

Sam walked through the abandoned building, swiping at cobwebs that he ran into. He made his way to the front of the building exhausted with his efforts before sliding down the wall to sit on the dirty floor. He looked toward the dirty windows that had panes broken out and could make out a full moon that hung low in the sky. He cringed with the gun blasts that only he could hear and the howling from Lucifer that only grew in volume.

He leaned his head back against the wall as squinted his eyes shut letting tears leak from them and rolled down his face. He didn't have the strength to wipe them away and let them fall. Extreme exhaustion shut his body down and his head fell forward as he passed out.

Sam wasn't out long before he was jerked awaked by yelling from Lucifer that echoed in his head. He could feel his heart racing and beating erratically as he gasped for air. Sam looked at the time and saw the night was starting to fade away and knew it was time. He took his small pack and pulled a bottle of sleeping pills from it, along with a half full bottle of water. With trembling fingers, Sam tried to get the bottle opened. It took him several tries before the lid came off.

The pills lay in his palm as he started at them for a moment before raising his shaking hand and filling his mouth with them. He sipped on the water to wash them all down and winced as one caught in his throat. He coughed hard several times and sipped more water. Once he got the pill down, he struggled out of his jacket and pushed it aside. He pulled a pocketknife from his pack and a burner phone that wasn't turned on.

Sam knew about the human body and where all the strategic places were, that would let a person bleed out. He closed his eyes as he thought about his brother and was sick that he was going to do this to him, but he was at the end of his rope. He could not take the hallucinations any longer. Living like this was not living and he knew his body was not going to last much longer; it was shutting down. This was killing him and there was nothing that they could find to stop it.

The affects of the sleeping pills were beginning to work as he felt his mind slipping and his eyes closing. He jerked awake and picked up the cell to turn it on. His vision blurred as he tried to see the numbers. Sam finally got it dialed and listen to it ring knowing he was probably waking Dean this early in the morning.

"Hello," Dean answered after the first ring. He had been looking for Sam during the night, so he wasn't asleep. Dean had run the orderly's credit card and found a charge at a gas station heading west from the city where the hospital was located. He had followed the trail and found the truck where Sam had abandoned it and knew he was somewhere in this city.

Dean started checking out homeless shelters and encampments around the city hoping to run across Sam. He had shown Sam's picture around and found a few homeless people that had seen him. So far, he had not found him, but knew he had to be close. With Sam's condition, Dean knew that he couldn't stay hidden for much longer.

"Dean," Sam croaked out as his voice cracked

"Sammy? Hey man, where are you? Are you okay? Look, I'll come and get you if you tell me where you are," Dean begged as he gripped the phone tightly in his hand. He could tell Sam was in a bad way.

"Dean," Sam repeated as he sobbed into the cell.

"Please Sammy, tell me where you are," Dean insisted, an urgency in his voice.

"Abandoned building, 2068 Long Shoals Road C," Sam whispered. "I'm sorry Dean…" Sam cried as he let the cell drop from his hand.

"Sammy, Sammy, hey man talk to me," Dean said loudly as he looked around to see where he was. He remembered seeing the name of that street when he was checking out homeless encampments and knew he wasn't far from it. He ran down the empty street as the sun was starting to peep over the horizon.

spn

Sam's vision was fading, and it was getting harder to breath. He knew it had to be done now before he passed out. Sam picked up the knife and gripped it as tight as he could before pressing the sharp blade to his arm. The brachial artery ran down his upper arm and with one swipe, he could sever it and bleed out is less than a minute. He thought about cutting his wrist but that would take too long. This way it would be quick, and he would be gone.

With the last of his strength, Sam sliced through his arm, not feeling any pain as blood began to pour from the wound and pool by his body. He let his hand drop to his lap as his head lolled to the side. He opened his eyes one more time when suddenly the front door was kicked open.

Dean found the address and checked the buildings finding C. He tried to front door and found it locked. Dean stepped back and used his foot to break the door down and step into the room. He had to let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the room as he tried to look around. He spotted a body leaning against the wall deeper in the room. A shaft of sunlight hit the broken window just right and shown into the room, illuminating Sam's still body.

"Sammy!" Dean cried out as he ran for the body and dropped down beside him. "Hey, wake up. Look at me." Dean spotted the pill bottle and then saw the blood. He pressed his fingers to Sam's throat trying to find a pulse but couldn't feel one under his fingers.

Sam could barely lift his heavy eyelids when he heard his brother's voice and tried to find him. He tried to smile as his life blood leaked away and his breathing drew shallow. He tried to speak but nothing would come out as he drew in a shallow breath and slowly let it out as his chest stilled. His body went limp and his head rolled to the side as his spirit left his body.

Dean saw the wound on Sam's arm and the knife laying loosely in his hand. His chest started tightening and it was getting hard to breath when an inhuman sound poured from his lips and echoed around him as he grabbed his brother in his arms and hugged him tightly to his chest. He wailed again knowing his brother was gone and he was not coming back. He screamed again as his throat tightened cutting off his voice. Dean's shoulders hunched over as he buried his face into Sam's greasy hair and cried knowing he had let him down. He had not been able to protect him like he promised Sam he would, when Dean first saw him in the hospital all those years ago. A hole started growing in his soul, one that would never be filled again. His heart broke into a thousand pieces as he let himself grieve for his loss.

When his legs cramped, Dean adjusted his position and leaned against the wall where Sam had been and pulled his cooling body into his lap like a child. He began to rock him as he hummed the old Beatles song their Mom used to sing to them as a lullaby. He brushed Sam's hair from his face and kissed his forehead. Dean pulled Sam's jacket to him and laid it over his chest to keep him warm.

The sun crept its way across the sky and still Dean rocked his brother as he sat in the abandoned building. Time stood still for him because he didn't want to let his brother go. He could not let himself believe that Sam was gone. Sammy, his reason for living was gone. He was alone now in the world with all his friends and family dead. There's no me, if there's no you, Dean thought as he rested his cheek against Sam's head. Dean continued to hum in a hoarse voice, staring off into space as his hand reached to the small of his back for what was nestled against his skin…

The End