TITLE: Let it Go

AUTHOR: Obi the Kid

RATING: PG (for mild swear words)

SUMMARY: Dean's thoughts after saying goodbye to Charlie and on his way back inside, returning to Sam at the end of "Pac-Man Fever" (Season 8)

DISCLAIMER: The characters of Sam and Dean Winchester and the world of Supernatural do not belong to me, nor do I make any profit from this story. Any typos/errors are all mine!

SPECIAL SIDE NOTE: All Sam & Dean fans be sure to check out the Cal Leandros books by Rob Thurman. If you think the Winchester boys have a co-dependence problem, you've not seen anything until you've seen Cal and Niko Leandros. They are a must read for any SPN fans. Read the series from the beginning though, or you'll miss gallons of angst, snark and those well-loved brother moments.

It was good. Charlie's decision. To let it go. The one thing she'd held onto, the one thing that Sam and I had no idea about until recently…to let her mom go peacefully. I was proud of her and I respected the hell out of her for being able to make such a decision. After years of anguish, she was finally able to let go. Something I've never been able to do when it came to Sam.

I've tried in the past. The whole demon blood thing. The Ruby deal. I've tried to walk away. Nothing ever seemed to work. Not death. Not Hell. Not betrayal. Not a damn thing.

I've not ever been able to do it and at this point, I don't think I ever will. It's what Charlie asked me, if I would let it go. And without a second of hesitation, I replied simply…'never'.

Gut reaction? Probably. But it's reaction surrounded by truth. As hard headed as Sam is, as much as I sometimes want to strangle him and as many times as we've both driven each other to the edge and back…I can't let him go.

I just can't.

He's my brother.

I was born with this in my blood; to be a protector. It was instilled into my head every day after. 'Look after Sammy.' 'Keep Sammy safe.' 'Don't let anything or anyone hurt Sammy.' I took the job seriously when I was four and then even more so six months later when mom was killed. And when Dad became a hunter, 'Look after Sammy' became my life.

How many years later now? It still is.

And this? Where we are right now? Sam doing his damndest to be the most annoyingly stubborn human on the planet and driving me up the friggin' wall? It's who he is. My little brother, he's a tough as they come, but this crap is eating him alive inside and out and I can't do a damn thing to fix it. He's not okay. He's not getting better. He's deteriorating right in front of me and I can't stop it.

Worst of all, he won't let me take care of him and I need more than anything to do just that. But that's the Winchester way, right? Always has been from dad to me to Sam. Probably, it always will be. None of us wants to admit we can't be as strong as the other needs us to be. Play through the pain. Kick it in the ass and do what needs to be done. The Winchester way. But that way ain't no friggin' picnic and at this point in our lives, with all we've lost or given up, now more than ever, we've got only each other. If that's not enough to beat this latest round of life and death, then I guess nothing is…not even that Winchester way…that obstinacy that we constantly retreat to and cling to so damn tightly.

Inside now…inside our hobbit hole of a home, Sam is at the table scribbling away at something. Hunting notes probably. Seeing me coming, he immediately goes on the defense, clicks his pen off and stands, ready for our usual and fully expected confrontation. He babbles his justification for working the case when he knows was far better prepared to simply fall flat on his face from exhaustion.

"Okay, look, you were right. I should've lain low, I know, I should've hung back. But I'm glad that I was able…"

I didn't hesitate in my walk towards him, glancing to the right as he started his rambling, I kept moving straight ahead. No words and I grabbed my little brother into a strong hug and then hung on tight. Taking him completely by surprise, it took a long second for Sam to return the gesture, but he did and I offered up a pained, brief, yet unseen smile.

Hell no, I wasn't letting Sammy go. Whatever these trials, whatever they've already done to him and will continue to do to him, I'll be there every damn step of the way doing the one thing I do better than anything else. Look after Sammy. Protect him for a long and as far as I can, no matter his resistance and insistence that he's 'fine' and 'okay.' I'm pretty damned sure I'd be the same stubborn bastard if I were standing in his shoes. But Sam and me, we're all we've got and I can't let that go. I can't ever let that go.

Releasing him, I kept a hard grasp on his shoulders and said, "Whattya say we go find our Prophet?"

It's not often I leave Sam at a loss for words, but it's exactly what I did. I had to let him know that no matter what…we were in this thing together.

I had to let him know that I'd be there, even if we argued and fought our way to the bitter, painful end.

I had to let him know that as his big brother, I was never, ever…letting him go.

The End