Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Sundered Veil

He exploded out of Castiel, eager to get away as the arrogant, power hungry angel began to put the souls he had consumed back into Purgatory on the orders of the Winchesters. However, while the gate that opened to Purgatory was before him, he had no intention of going back there. Oh no. He had much grander plans than being trapped forever in that cesspit with other ingrates such as monsters and ghosts. Calling on his rather vast reserves of strength, despite the fact that he was dead, he rebounded off the wall, and saw numerous black and grey streams of smoke, all exactly like his own, spiralling away from Purgatory, all eager to return to life just like he was. That insolent little rebel had assured his return, and at long last, he could make amends.

He streaked out of the warehouse, far from Castiel and his friends, the swirl of dark grey smoke streaking across the land. Confident that he had gone far enough he plummeted to the earth, the grey smoke pelting into the ground, and coalescing.

Four strong paws formed, as did a strong ferocious body, and then a strong head formed, surrounded by a golden mane. This body would do for now. He would achieve a human form later. For now, he had to wait. He knew full well what other monsters that idiot Castiel had absorbed. Monsters who were a threat to people like him, a threat to all life.

Leviathans.

And Castiel had set them loose.

He made a satisfied noise in his throat as he padded away from where he had landed. It wouldn't do well for those little insects called humanity to see him prowling the country side. People would tend to panic if they saw a lion stalking the land.

He would accumulate his strength. Castiel would be destroyed by the Leviathans, he knew that, it was just a matter of time. And then, the Winchesters would feel morally obliged to deal with them. And while they did so, he would gain in strength, day by day, until all his powers and his human body were returned to him.

And then, once they were, he would get what he so desired.

Revenge, on those maggots called the Winchesters.

XX

Another hunt was over, the ghost banished onwards, and the boys were once more in the car of the week, heading back to their motel after a job well done. A ghost of a janitor who had died in a school had been killing people who made a mess of the floors he had laboriously kept clean in life, drowning them with disinfectant. Sam and Dean had arrived just in time to free a student from his clutches and had quickly sent him on by burning the mop that he had anchored himself to, kept in the school for years.

"Am I still on the no sex ban?" Dean asked uncertainly of his brother, who glowered at him.

In the last several months, his brother had had enough unpleasant experiences that he ought to be considering becoming a monk and taking a vow of celibacy. After having sex with an Amazon a few months back, he had soon had a monster child that had been sent to kill him, an initiation rite into her tribe. Sam had arrived just in time to save his brother, who had been hesitating over killing her, despite having lectured Sam months before that monsters should always be killed, which had put certain strain on their relationship. A couple of months ago now, Sam's insane ex wife had returned, and had joined forces with a siren who their friend Castiel had freed from Purgatory. He had turned Dean into a siren and had basically made him a love slave, which still brought a red twinge of embarrassment to Dean's face whenever Sam brought it up. And his most recent encounter had been with a gorgon, who also transpired to be Medusa's sister and hence the strongest and oldest in the world. As a result of that encounter, Dean had spent a few days as a statue, trapped in stone, before Sam had killed the gorgon and freed his brother.

"Yes." Sam replied in a tone that broached no argument, and he smiled a little as he saw Dean's pout.

"But Sammy, I've used all the magazines you got me!" he whined, and Sam fixed him with a steely glare.

"Well buy some new ones. And seriously? That was two weeks ago, and I got you half a dozen. I ought to drag you to counselling." He said in concern, and Dean grinned.

"I'd rather chop my head off than have it examined. Besides, you're the insane one." Dean reminded, and Sam shook his head stubbornly.

"Nu-uh. Not since Cas fixed me I haven't been. Well, other than the fact that I keep putting up with you, but I think that's more convenience than insanity." Sam teased, and Dean grinned, knowing his brother didn't really mean it.

"At least you can sleep properly again and don't have Lucifer in your head. I suppose Cas did something decent when he took the insanity into himself." He said, and Sam frowned at his brother.

He knew his brother was furious with Cas, for his betrayal, and above all else for what he had done to Sam. But unlike when Sam made a mistake, Dean hadn't even tried to hurt Cas like he normally would. Sam had been soulless, something that had also been Cas' fault, something Sam had had no control over, and his brother had still smashed his face in when he found out the truth. But he hadn't laid a finger on saint Castiel, Sam thought bitterly. He decided to ignore yet another case of Dean's obvious double standards. And besides, Cas had saved his life by doing what he had done, and he was thankful for that. Didn't mean he didn't want to kick his ass for it all though.

He smiled as he looked at his brother, remembering that he still owed Dean a beating after his drunken, self hating older brother had tried to kill him, however unintentionally, while they had been in Dillimore. Ah well, people always said he was the sweet one, so he figured he'd let it go. Besides, the occasional dig at his brother's expense more than qualified for making his brother feel guilty.

"Come on Sammy, I've learnt my lesson, please let me go out!" Dean wheedled, flashing his brother what he obviously thought was a pleading look, but it didn't faze Sam whatsoever.

"No, because if something happens to you, you're on your own, I'm not coming to rescue you from another date gone wrong." He said scathingly, and Dean sighed, though he was smiling.

He honestly hadn't expected his brother to allow him out of his site and let him back onto the dating scene. Sam had been incredibly freaked out by finding his brother's stone body, and he could understand his brother not wanting anything like that happening to him again. And after all, Dean usually drove Sam nuts with his overprotective streak, it was only fair if Sam got a go too.

They entered their motel room to find Bobby, once more engrossed in the soap opera Passions.

"How was it?" he asked, not diverting his attention from the screen.

"Fine, not a scratch on us. A bruise where I'd rather it wasn't on me, but aside from that and bruising my dignity a little, nothing to report." Dean said as he flopped onto his bed, which was, as always, the one closest to the door.

"Good. Now, keep quiet, it's getting interesting." Bobby said, and Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and once more became engrossed in his book, while Dean played a game on his phone.

Frequent though they were, these were some of the moments the brothers loved the most, when they were just together, hanging out, with nothing other than distant threats to worry about.

Little did they know that outside a man was watching their room, evil in mind, and revenge on his agenda.

XX

He had finally resumed his human form, though it had taken him weeks after he had initially landed. Ever since then, he had been following the Winchesters, gathering his strength, wanting to be at his full power for when he once more encountered them. After all, they had caused significant havoc to him and his reputation the last time they had encountered one another, and he had underestimated them many times before, and by so doing had lost his position and had also managed to get himself killed in his last encounter with them.

This time, it would be different. He had been waiting for months. Now, he was finally ready to strike, and there was nothing they could do to stop him. And the best part was, neither of them would know, and with what he had planned, very soon his enemy would be consumed by madness.

He smiled grimly. Castiel was gone. The Leviathans were far away, planning to take over the world. Others like him were few and far between. Nothing would get in his way, and this time, the boys would stay dead. But only after he inflicted every form of pain and torture he could imagine would he finally kill them.

He smiled at the room, and made himself invisible to await his chance.

XX

Hours later, Dean's stomach was rumbling, and with Sam engrossed in his own soap opera, he supposed it would be up to him to go and get some food.

"What do you want for dinner?" Dean asked, and Sam thought about it.

"Chinese." He said, and Dean grinned. He could just hear a couple of spring rolls calling his name.

Checking the laptop, he found the local business, and seeing it was quite close by, he decided to walk down.

"You coming?" he asked his brother, who shook his head, and then gave Dean a pointed look.

"No, but Bobby is." He said, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Come on Sammy! It was two weeks ago that I got turned into a statue, I'm hardly going to be in danger walking down to the Chinese!" he protested, and he had to admit, he was getting a little tired of his brother's coddling. He knew it was because Sam cared about him, and because he had been rattled by the gorgon encounter, but a guy could only take so much.

"Now you know how I feel when you're an overprotective pain in my ass." Sam said brightly, making Bobby chuckle.

Dean sighed.

"Look Sam, I know I scared you last time, and I'm sorry I did. But I'll be fine, I'm only going to the Chinese down the road, and I'll be back in ten minutes tops." He said, and Sam looked at him sceptically.

"We only went out for groceries in El Quebrados and in Palomino Creek, and we both got kidnapped there." He reminded him.

"Yeah, but that was different." Dean protested.

"Ok, don't take Bobby, leave him here if it's so important to you." Sam said grumpily, looking slightly hurt.

Dean sighed. He knew his brother was just looking out for him, trying to protect him. And he knew he was getting a taste of his own medicine, as that was what he did to Sam, and Sam, while he protested, usually just let Dean get on with it. He supposed the least he could do was try and make his brother feel better. After all, getting turned into a siren and a statue had shaken Sam more than he was willing to admit, and if Dean could make him feel better, then so be it.

"Alright, I'll take him. If only to make sure you aren't a whiny bitch all night." He conceded, and Sam smiled in victory.

"Thanks Dean. I know I'm being annoying..."

"But I should just suck it up and get on with it, after all, it's what I make you do." He said fondly, and picked up Bobby's flask.

"You know, you boys are always picking me up. Either of you ever consider I might not want to go anywhere with either of you?" Bobby asked musingly, and Sam and Dean looked at each other, part nervous, part amused.

"Well, as you sort of rely on us to get you from A to B, you sort of need our legpower." Dean pointed out, and Bobby chuckled.

"Yeah I suppose. Rub it in why don't you? Alright, I'll go with Super Stud here and make sure he doesn't pick up any potentially deadly girls." Bobby assured Sam, who grinned.

"Good luck with that." He said cheekily, and Dean glowered at him.

"You know, next time you pick up a girl, I'm going to make your life a living hell." He vowed darkly, and Sam looked at him innocently.

"Dean, you always make my life hell when I pick up a girl. But at least I..."

"Haven't had a kid with one, been turned into a monster by one or turned to stone by one, yeah yeah." He said grumpily, heading for the door with Bobby in his pocket.

"Ooh, bring me shredded beef!" Sam called as Dean left, and Dean shook his head muttering darkly to himself.

"I hate having a smart ass baby brother." He grumbled, pointedly ignoring Bobby as he laughed, and the two set off for the Chinese.

XX

The man watched as Dean left, their pet ghost hovering around him. Excellent. That meant Sam was all alone. And now, it would finally be time to begin to exact his revenge. After all his years of waiting, all this time savouring his hatred of the brothers, it was finally the moment when he would begin to take it out.

He headed over the street, excitement filling him as he approached the door to Sam and Dean's room.

It was time to settle a score.

XX

Sam looked up as Dean entered, looking cheerful about something, his eyes widening in delight as he looked at Sam.

"Hey, what happened to getting something to eat?" Sam asked as he came out of the bathroom, frowning slightly at his big brother, as he was also beginning to feel a bit hungry.

"There's a queue, I'll wait for it to go down a bit." He said dismissively, and Sam looked around the room, not seeing any sign of their resident ghost.

"Where's Bobby?" Sam asked, and Dean shot him a bored glance.

"What's with all the questions?" he asked in an irritated voice, and Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"What's with the attitude laden answers? I only asked where Bobby was, you know, the guy who's saved our asses a good few times." He said, and Dean waved him off.

"Bobby's fine, he told me to put him in the car." He said, and Sam shrugged. Maybe Bobby just needed to get away from the boys for a while, he couldn't blame him. Especially if they wound up drinking tonight. While Sam was relatively sensible when he drank, due to Dean going under a forced detox after Dillimore, he wasn't holding his drink nearly as well as he used to, and he supposed seeing Dean puke up his guts with a hangover every time they drank was enough to put anyone off staying in the room with them.

But, while the explanation did make sense, Sam was beginning to feel that there was something that wasn't quite right with Dean.

"Are you ok? You seem odd." Sam asked warily as Dean kicked off his shoes, a smile of ecstasy on his face as he did so.

"I told you I'm fine." Dean said, in a voice that didn't sound quite like his own, and Sam rolled his eyes, frustrated by this.

"Dean, I swear if you've been entranced by something again, I'm going to give you that ass kicking I owe you from Dillimore." He grumbled, and Dean smiled.

"Relax Sammy. I'm not entranced. I just don't want to keep having the same, worry filled conversations with an insignificant worm like you." He said coldly, and Sam flinched at the frigid tone of his brother's voice.

So, either Dean was upset about something and was lashing now and hoping to avoid explaining later, or worse, something was wrong with him. Again. Forcing down the slight hurt he felt at his brother's comment, he crossed his arms and glared at him.

"Alright, what is your problem? You only left two minutes ago, and even you can't have gotten entranced or replaced in that amount of time. What's up?" he asked, and Dean sighed, looking at his brother with a pitying glance.

"Nothing's up. Sorry Sam. I'm just a little, well, bored. Unfulfilled." He said in a forlorn voice, and Sam smiled a little.

"Is this about the sex ban I put on you? I'm actually impressed you kept to it." He said, still looking not quite trustingly at his older brother.

"Yeah well, that's me. The impressive big brother. But it isn't that that's bothering me." He said, standing, and Sam looked at him suspiciously. Dean was never this listless, or restless, all at the same time.

He knew his brother better than anybody. And he knew something wasn't right with him. His rudeness, his blatant lack of concern for where Bobby was, and something about him just didn't seem quite right. Worry filled Sam's gut as he beheld his older brother.

"Well what is bothering you then?" Sam asked, and Dean walked closer towards him, and Sam began to get a little scared as he felt himself being pressed towards the wall. Dean was beginning to seem scary, and he wasn't used to his brother actually aiming to scare him.

"You wonder what it's like to die? I mean truly die, no comebacks like we usually do?" he asked musingly, and Sam took a step back, his back meeting the wall, flexing his wrist as he did so, not sure if he could trust his brother all of a sudden.

"It hurt quite enough the times we have died thanks. Why do you ask?" he asked warily, and Dean looked at him thoughtfully.

"Just curious." He said, a strange glint in his eyes as he continued to pace closer to his brother.

"Dean, what's going on?" Sam asked sharply, preparing to smack his brother if it stopped him from getting any closer, because he was beginning to feel intimidated by his brother, who effectively had him pinned against the wall.

"I'm just making conversation Sam. Being polite." He said, grinning evilly, and Sam knew in an instant as he beheld the smug, arrogant and malicious grin on his face.

This wasn't Dean.

"Who are you?" he demanded angrily, and Dean grinned maniacally.

"Guess." He purred, advancing on Sam once more, who took his gun from his belt and fired a bullet right into him, not even flinching from the fact that he had just shot his brother.

Or at least someone who looked like him.

Dean looked down at the hole, and smiled at Sam mockingly.

"Did you think that would work, you cock sucking little gnat?" he asked derisively, and a horrible suspicion came to his mind.

No one talked down to them like that. No one except...

"You're not Dean." Sam said, realisation filling him as he realised just what he was dealing with.

"Correct! Give the boy a prize! In fact, here it is now!" Dean hissed, and Sam roared in pain, as suddenly a wicked looking knife was plunged into his gut with venomous delight, puncturing right through his belly button as he pushed it in deep and far.

Sam gave a pained gasp as Dean turned it within the wound gleefully, Sam grunting with pain as he did so. He gagged, and he could feel blood rushing up into his mouth as the wound took hold. Dean had just stabbed him. His big brother had just stabbed him.

Sam gave a surprised moan in the back of his throat as he staggered back against the wall, his heart pounding hard. He gave a weak grunt, as he looked down at his stomach, and he could see blood rushing from the wound, trickling down his legs and onto the floor, and the patch of blood was covering his entire stomach by now. He looked at his brother with disgusted, angry eyes, his mind working overtime as he figured out exactly how this killer was.

Dean smiled, and threw Sam over the room, crashing him onto the bed, the wound aggravating his stomach further, making Sam scream in pain as he landed, and Dean prowled towards him slowly, grinning in evil, malicious delight. He then seized the knife, and once more twisted it in Sam's gut, and Sam grunted in pain, gasping weakly every time Dean stopped for a break, all the while pulling at Dean's hand, trying to free himself from the attack. He had been stabbed. He had to get to Dean, the real Dean, warn him...

"Poor little Sam. You know, you and your brother cost me everything. Seems only fair I do it to you." Dean mused, digging the blade in harder.

Sam was giving shuddering gasps of pain as he did so, he could feel his warm blood soaking his jeans, the bottom of his shirt, his bedspread as his wound flooded blood out of it. He was shaking weakly, shivering with the loss of blood, he knew his skin must be going pure white as he twitched on the bed. Dean once more dug the blade in, and Sam gave grunting, pained noises in the back of his throat as he did it.

Where was the real Dean? Was he alright? Was he even alive? Had he been killed? He wanted his brother, his proper brother, not this imposter. He wanted Dean, just like in Cold Oak. He was about to die, he wanted his brother one last time, to hear Dean's voice, to see his face, even though it would kill him to see the inevitable pain in his eyes.

Sam was giving shuddering breaths, trying to get air into his mouth, trying valiantly to stay alive, but he knew it was useless. He was dying, basically dead already. Dean once more twisted the knife, and he gave a keening moan as he did so, gulping for air and for life, grunting in awful pain as Dean twirled it around once more, twisting it further into his stomach. Sam was hyperventilating, and Dean smiled down at him, his hand seizing his neck and lifting him up to face him. Sam felt a trickle of warm blood run down from the corner of his mouth as he did so.

"Goodbye Sam." He said sinisterly, and Sam knew what was going to come next.

"No, please..." he pleaded weakly, his hands covered in his own blood as he valiantly tried to hold his life in his failing body.

He was giving shuddering gasps as Dean assumed his real form, proving Sam right. It could only have been him. Dean. He wanted Dean, he wanted Dean to hold him to him, tell him it was going to be alright, tell him he would be fine, calling him Sammy one last time.

"No, don't!" Sam pleaded, his body shuddering as more blood flowed out of him into the bed.

"Oh yes. But hang on." He said maliciously, and dug the knife even further into his body, and Sam was shaking, gulping for air, his body convulsing while he grunted in pain, his eyes closed in a grimace.

Then his killed gave one last smug smile.

"Please! No!" he begged, but then his killer jerked his neck, there was a loud, final snap, and with that, Sam Winchester was dead.

XX

The man stood, looking proudly at the body on the bed. Revenge was so very sweet, he thought ecstatically as he looked at Sam's body.

The knife was still sticking out of his stomach, and Sam's bloodstained hands were holding it, as he had died in the act of trying to pull it out. Blood had pooled out from the wound, dying Sam's shirt to just under his abs, the red stain discolouring the light blue stripy shirt. Blood had also soaked the top of his jeans, and a circular pool of blood had spread onto the bedspread. His skin was pure white, his hair a pooled mess around his head. And his face was priceless, his mouth open in a silent gasp of pain, his eyes blank, unfocused and unseeing, staring off into nothing, his head gazing up at the ceiling at an unnatural angle, a result of the shattered neck he had given him.

So many years he had waited, and now he had killed Sam.

And that was just the beginning of his revenge.

He smiled, and in a blink he was at a payphone.

"Hello, police? I would like to report a terrible murder." He said, smug with victory.

Sam was dead at last. And soon, Dean would follow. But not before he'd extracted every inch of pain possible out of the filthy little cretin first.

XX

Dean had everything they needed for a boys night in, and had even hired the last two Batman films. Bobby had shot him a reproving look when he had picked up Dark Knight, knowing full well he only rented it to scare his brother with the Joker. Smiling, Dean hoisted the bags and entered the room.

Where he promptly dropped them as he beheld the scene.

"No..." Dean pleaded desperately, and rushed to his brother's bed.

Sam was lying there, a knife in his stomach. Blood had pooled all around it, staining his shirt and jeans, blemishing the bedspread.

"Sammy..." Dean pleaded urgently, feeling desperately for a pulse.

He found none.

"No, Sammy..." he begged, taking his brother's white face in his hands, turning Sam to look at him as tears developed in his eyes, and Bobby flickered to life beside him.

"Oh god..." the ghost breathed in devastated horror.

Dean paid no attention, staring intently at his little brother, his open, unseeing eyes, and the awful truth dawned on him.

"No...god no, Sam, wake up this isn't funny!" Dean shouted, but then he felt a shiver of sick revulsion as Sam's limp head bent nearly over backwards, a result of having its support destroyed, and Dean laid his brother's head gently back onto the pillow, not willing to admit the truth.

"Sammy, wake up! Come on, this wound isn't even that bad, wake up!" Dean begged, checking the wound on his stomach, knowing it was futile but not willing to admit it.

"Dean, I'm so sorry, but he's..." Bobby said, his own voice choked and shaking.

"NO! He isn't dead!" Dean howled as he beheld his little brother's body.

Dean panted urgently, his hands covered in Sam's blood as he once more looked desperately at his little brother's face.

"No...no...no...Sammy..." Dean whispered softly, stroking his brother's soft hair as he sat on the bed beside him, guilt, horror, grief and terror filling him as he did so.

"Dean..." Bobby said, but Dean ignored him, smoothing his brother's hair, his gaze fixated on his little brother, who was so still...so horribly still.

"Sammy...come on. It's my job to look after you remember, to look after my pain in the ass baby brother. I know I sucked at it for a while, but, come back, I'm getting better, it's my job to look after you..." he begged tightly, tears in his eyes and voice, but Sam was unresponsive.

Sam was gone. His little brother was gone. The reason he kept going was gone.

His baby brother was dead.

"Sammy. Wake up, you can't let something like this get to you!" Dean implored, ignoring the fact that his brother's neck was shattered, hoping beyond hope that Sam would come back somehow anyway.

"Dean..." Bobby said, his own voice husky with shock and loss.

Sam's head lolled helplessly as Dean moved his body, and in a fury, Dean extracted the knife, surprisingly gentle considering how he felt, and tossed it to the floor. He was wheezing, his breath coming un unsteady gasps, panting in fear and in loss, and with his bloodstained fingers, he shook as he closed his brother's eyes, unable to look at their open, glassy, horrified expression any longer.

"Sam. Sam. Sammy!" Dean yelled urgently, but Sam didn't wake.

Dean shook his head, angrily denying what he was seeing, the fact that his little brother was gone. He saw the blood, the broken neck, but he couldn't admit Sam was gone. Sam was dead. He couldn't be, but he was.

Sam was dead.

Despair ripped through Dean, his body shaking as he looked at his little brother, unable to do anything about the obvious truth before him and despising that fact.

"Nonononono..." he whispered, desperate for any sign, but there were none to be had.

Hopelessness filled Dean. Sam was gone, and there was nothing he could do. No get out of heaven free card this time. He had lost him. He had lost his baby brother. Sam was gone. He had failed again, failed in his basic mission 'protect Sammy'. He felt sickened with himself. He had left Sam, and Sam had been murdered.

"No. No! Sammy!" Dean yelled again, but once again to no avail.

Sam was gone. Despair, hopelessness, self loathing, anger, grief, Dean was a myriad of emotions as he picked his brother up, hugging him tightly to him, leaning his brother's head on his shoulder and stroking his hair.

"I'm sorry Sam. I didn't protect you well enough, didn't look after you. You're my baby brother, and I let you down. I'm so sorry Sammy. Don't die, not because of me. What am I meant to do huh? It's my job to look after my pain in the ass baby brother. Don't you dare be dead, don't you dare be gone. I need you. Come on Sammy. We'll fix you, you'll be as good as new. Sam," he pleaded, his voice full of tears, which were also streaming down his face, "Sam. Sammy!" Dean yelled, holding his brother close to him, not caring about anyone, anything, not caring about Bobby desperately trying to talk to him, the fact that he was covered in Sam's blood, the fact that some son of a bitch had just murdered his little brother. All he cared about was Sam, and he was rocking him, clasping his brother's head to his neck, tears streaming from his eyes as the inevitable truth sunk in.

Sam was dead. He was gone.

And this time, he wasn't coming back.

Dean held his dead brother tightly, lovingly, feeling the warmth go from Sam's skin as his body got colder and colder, too cold. He rocked him gently, muttering to him as he did so, his bloodied hands running through Sam's hair, tears pouring down his face, devastated loss filling his entire being.

"Sam." He wailed softly, sobbing as he did so, but his brother, his face buried in Dean's neck, made no movement at all.

He was truly gone.

Sam was dead.

Sam was dead.

Sam was dead.

The line kept repeating in his head, over and over as he held his bloodied, broken and cold brother to him, rocking him gently, as if he were rocking him to sleep, his hand tangled in Sam's hair as his tears ran down his face and onto Sam's neck.

Sam was dead, gone forever, he had lost him. Sam was dead. Sam was dead!

"SAMMY!"

XX

The police arrived a while later, barging down the door.

"No! Leave him alone!" Dean snapped as the coroners came to try and take Sam from him.

"Sir, be reasonable..." one said, and Dean glowered at the man, still holding his brother tightly to him.

"My brother is dead! How can you ask me to be reasonable when the only family I have left is dead in my arms!" Dean raged, and the coroners backed off slightly, seeing that even brute force wouldn't manage to prise Sam from his brother's grip.

Sam was still held tightly in his arms, as if by hugging him to him Dean could resurrect him. But it hadn't worked. Dean looked at his brother, his tears blurring his vision as he did so. His brother was gone. He was all alone. All alone.

"Sammy..." he whispered desperately, his brother still held to him, but he knew it was no use.

Sam was gone. His brother was gone forever.

"Sir, please..." the other coroner said in a gentler tone, and Dean gently lowered his little brother to the bed, and allowed himself to be pulled away from him, but Dean's eyes never left his little brother, unmoving on the bed, as though waiting for any sign that his brother was still alive, but as before none came.

"I want to go with him!" Dean cried as the coroners lifted Sam onto the trolley, but the coroners shook their head.

"I'm sorry sir, but that isn't the way it works." One said sadly, giving him an understanding glance.

"No, you don't understand, he's my little brother, he needs me." Dean said desperately, but they shook their heads, and Dean watched, quivering in fear, loss and revulsion, as the coroner zipped up the body bag containing his little brother, a silent sound, so why did it sound like an iron gate slamming shut?

And Dean felt an awful sort of finality, a realisation that he didn't want to be here, didn't want to live, not without his brother, and the zip shutting had been the final straw, it had snapped Dean's own desire, will and power to live. He would go with Sam, one way or another.

"Sammy..." Dean whispered, as the coroners gave him a terse nod, and Dean felt the last little vestige of his world collapse as they wheeled his brother's dead body from the room.

"Sir? Are you Dean Winchester?" a policeman asked worriedly, and Dean glowered at him but nodded.

"Yeah. I want to go with my brother. Can I?" he demanded, but the man shook his head.

"I'm afraid not sir. We sent a preliminary copy of the prints on the weapon to the lab. They came up with a match." He explained, and Dean snarled at him, flexing his hand as if he wanted to go for his gun.

"And that stops me going with my little brother how?" he demanded furiously.

"Because sir, you need to come with me." The policeman said, taking a step towards him, and Dean shook his head.

"No I don't, I need to go with Sam, he..." Dean protested, but the policeman shook his head.

"You can't sir. Because you are under arrest. For the murder of Sam Winchester."

Well, I officially feel awful!

I feel so bad, I've killed Sammy. Please dont hate me, i hate myself enough right now

Well here we are with another new story, and as you can see, things are already very grave indeed. Sam is dead, and Dean is under arrest for his murder. Where do we go from here?

Who was Sam's true murderer? What does he have planned for Dean? What new evils can befall a man who has lost everything? All will be revealed in later chapters.

Anyway, this is the start of a new story, I feel bloody awful but I hope to cheer you up with this news, we have two old friends returning in the upcoming chapters, and an old 'friend' of Dean's too!

I hope I did Dean's reaction well, i tried to base it on Sam's death in season two, but i dont know if i did it enough justice, so please tell me what you think when you read and review! And please dont hate me too much! Read and review and hopefully it will be updated tomorrow (as I have escaped gardening this week, the weather sucks and what's more, its their 25th wedding anniversary tomorrow)

Until next time please read and review and dont hate me!