Summary: Sam knows and he's pretty sure Dean does too; they're not brothers anymore.

A/N: Set between Monster Movie and Yellow Fever. Rated for language.

What Hurts the Most

The conversations are strained. The silences are suffocating. The looks are accusing. The words are empty. It didn't take long after Dean's return for Sam to notice that things were drastically different between them. It shouldn't be surprising. Dean had been in hell and who knows what happened to him there (Dean's sure not telling), and Sam's been barely surviving without him. So in reality Sam knew that things weren't going to be like they were before, but he wasn't expecting them to be like this, for them to be like strangers.

Sam knows it's half his fault and damn if that doesn't make it that much harder. When he realized that Dean was gone for good, he stopped being the little brother and became the little brother. Now that Dean's back, he's having issues being the little brother again. He knows that he's changed. He knows that he's damaged. But it should have gotten better the moment that Dean showed up at that motel room. Dean always makes things better. But things didn't get better, if anything, things got so much worse.

Sam takes that moment to glance at Dean, who's flipping soundlessly through tv channels, staring blankly at the screen. He grins ruefully as he observes his older sibling, knowing that things got worse because Sam made them worse. Again.

Lies took place of concern. Secrets took place of confessions. Silence took place of banter.

It's just way too silent all the time.

Sam can pinpoint the moment when he realized that things were really wrong between them, and surprisingly, it wasn't when Dean clocked him in the face after he found out about Sam's powers. It was when they were storming the castle, so to speak, to kill the movie obsessed shape shifter. It was when Sam crash landed through that fake wall. If it had happened before Dean went to hell, Sam's older brother would have been by his side immediately after wasting whatever nasty they were facing to make sure Sam was a-okay. But Dean wasn't by his side, not even after the shape shifter was dead. Yeah, Dean helped Sam come around from unconsciousness and helped him to his feet, but there were no words said, no concern. Sam had to admit that the silence hurt more than the actual fall did.

The second moment he realized that something was really wrong was when Dean announced that he was leaving after he discovered Sam using his powers. It was wrong because he was almost okay with Dean leaving. Dean leaving meant no more lying, no more guilt, no more disappointment, and no more reminders that they aren't the same people anymore. The brief acceptance and relief is gone almost immediately. This is his older brother and Sam had torn apart all of his resources trying to bring him back, and he's not letting go now that he's home. Not ever. So Sam accepted the punches with grace, held back his tears through the words, and sucked it up like a true Winchester. Because at that point, Dean pissed and betrayed but alive was better than Dean not being there at all.

But now as Dean once again thwarts any attempt to answer questions about hell, Sam is almost back to wishing that Dean had left. Almost. As selfish as it sounds, Sam can't stand Dean being around reminding him of how bad he screwed up. He screwed up saving Dean and now he knows deep down somewhere in his potentially evil soul, he screwed up saving himself. Sam doesn't have it in him to tell Dean to leave and even if he did, he wouldn't want him to anyway. Dean was right to say that he's a selfish bastard. Sam could leave but then Dean would come looking for him. Or at least, once upon a time Dean would've, Sam's not so sure any more.

"Want anything from the store?"

Dean's rough voice snaps Sam from his reverie. He's surprised to see that Dean has left his spot on the bed and has moved to the door way, poised to leave. Dean's face is expectant and impatient, guarded. Sam has to swallow back tears that take him by surprise.

"No, I'm good," Sam says, barely getting the words out of his throat. He watches as Dean walks out the door and slams it shut.

The sound of the door shutting reverberates through the room and Sam can feel it all the way down to his stomach.

Sam can remember two years ago when things were really messed up. With his Dad's death, his visions, and the omniscient warning of Sam's doom, things were not at all okay. At least at that point Sam and Dean had each other, and Dean promised that Sam was going to be fine. Sam believed him and God, he wished he could believe him now. That is, if Dean would ever say it again.

'As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you.'

'I'm only going to say this once, if you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the floor.'

Sam can still hear the words clear as day in his head and can sense the feeling behind them. The memory is enough to push the tears over his cheeks as he wonders if Dean would even care at this point if Sam died. What were once promises of safety and reassuring words of comfort and protection, are now things like, "if I didn't know you, I'd want to hunt you."

That's when Sam knew that things were too far gone to save. Everyday something chips a little more at Dean's soul and Sam can see it. It's becoming blatantly obvious that Dean's faking his shit eating grin and the swagger that makes women fall all over him. He knows that Dean's falling apart at the seams. It's not like Sam has much room to talk because he's barely holding it together too. It's not even just because of the demon blood burning through his body or the fact that he's starting to forget what it's like to have someone care about him, it's because he knows he's in this alone.

So yeah, Sam thinks it's safe to say that things are not okay, and that things may never be okay again. Because Sam knows and he's pretty sure Dean does too, they're not brothers anymore. And if they don't have that then what do they have? What's left?

What's left?