Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. They belong to Eric Kripke

A special thanks to AlElizabeth for beta'ing my story

A/N: Here is the much anticipated second part to my story. This is dedicated to everyone that asked for a second chapter; jojospn, hotshow, WeirdyMcWeirderton, doyleshuny, JensenAcklesfanforever, MysteryMadchen, and sh. thank you for being patient with me in updating this next chapter. I really hope you like it.

Triggers: Suicidal thoughts.

Chapter 2

Sam looked around the bunker. It didn't have the same feel that it had before. Before it was home because Dean was there. Now it was a prison. After Dean had left, Sam walked back to Dean's room and really looked at it. There were many things that were gone. His duffel. His clothes. Teary eyed, Sam looked around and saw that Dean left the weapons on the wall. Sam walked over to the desk and he saw the picture. Dean left his one prized possession. The one thing that had stayed with him since he was a small boy. Sam picked up the picture that had Dean and their mom in it. Sam just looked at the picture. Both of them smiling at the camera. Part of him wanted to rip the picture in tiny pieces because he couldn't take the sight of himself and his brother smiling happily when he felt like shit. But he wouldn't do that. It was Dean's picture. It was Dean. It was the only thing he had of Dean that he would always see him. Sam pulled out his wallet. Very carefully, he put the picture in his wallet and put it back in his pocket. Sam walked over to the bed and plopped face down on the bed. He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He didn't have Dean around to tell him what he was supposed to do next.

Anytime they were separated, Sam went straight to autopilot. Now he didn't know what he was to do. In the letter, Dean said he wanted him to make him proud. How was he supposed to do that? How was he to make him happy? The only thing that would make him happy was to have his brother here. Go back to school. Yeah, that wouldn't work. Sure he had filled out applications for colleges. He even got responses. But deep down he couldn't go. He always came up with an excuse to why he didn't go. But he knew the real reason. When he went to Stanford, he'd had Dean's approval and support. Now, Dean was in Purgatory, he would never get Dean's approval. Actually the whole school thing came from Amelia. She had asked once what was he planning to do with his life. She loved him, but didn't like the moving from place to place, finding odd jobs idea. She wanted him to settle down and so she had brought up the subject, and Sam just went with it. But deep down it didn't feel right.

Now, he was in a bunker, not his bunker, not the Men of Letter's bunker, but a bunker. It was a prison. There was no Dean. On the bed was where Sam stayed. He stayed there for two more days. Not moving. Not eating. Just lying there. He didn't care any more. What was the point? When he was younger, all he ever wanted was to be alone. Not to have to train. Not have to worry about the supernatural. Just be a regular person. Now it was looking like it was really happening, and he couldn't handle it. He just wanted it all to end.

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Bobby walked out of the bar. He decided to head to his little piece of Heaven. He knew he would need a crucial item for this to work. While he was getting said items, Joshua burst through the door.

"Bobby!"

Bobby came out of the back of the house to where Joshua was.

"What's going on?"

"You need to go, now," Joshua said. "It can't wait."

"What happened?"

"One of them are on the verge of coming here. But you have to go to the brother first. He will only listen to him."

"What are you talking about?" Bobby was getting to confused, why the hell was Joshua being so cryptic.

"You know that time is different here than from Earth." Bobby nodded. "Well, it's been two weeks since Sam and Dean were together."

A light seemed to go off in Bobby's head. He began to realize what was going on.

"Which one?"

"Sam."

Bobby put his hand on his side pocket to make sure the object he had been looking for was still there.

"Where is Dean?"

"The first motel down the street."

Bobby couldn't help but to smile at that. Dean couldn't help it. He had to stay close to his brother.

"Okay," Bobby said. "Send me back."

Joshua walked over to Bobby. "Remember, I will handle Metatron. Your mission is to just get those boys back together. I still have to keep John and Mary in check. You got three hours." Joshua put two fingers on Bobby's forehead. Everything lit up.

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Dean walked into his room. He paid out the room for the next two months. He knew he was supposed to leave and separate all ties to Sam. He just couldn't. It was just like the Impala wouldn't go past the few miles. It was as if the car didn't even want him to leave. So stopping at the motel was his only choice. Not that he was complaining. He could still keep an eye out for Sammy and his brother would be none the wiser.

The first couple of days were the hardest. He kept running into Sam. But he was very careful not to let Sam see him. Dean would see Sam walk into the store or laundry mat or just down the street, window-shopping or whatever and Dean would duck out of sight, hiding until his brother passed. One day he saw Sam walk into the corner store. He was in the back where the beer was. He just happened to look up and see Sam walking in the store from the large convex mirror that was on the corner of the wall to deter shoplifters. Dean ducked down and moved to another aisle when he saw Sam coming. He didn't want to take a chance of an encounter and something happens and Sam gets hurt in the process.

Sam walked down the aisle. He was pretty much on autopilot. Dean could see that. Dean watched his brother. Sam walked to the cooler case, pulled out two 24 pack of beer and walk back up to the counter.

Dean shook his head. This was not his baby brother. He wasn't doing what he was supposed to be doing. As Sam walked towards the counter, Dean really got a look of what he had on. Sam was still wearing the same clothes as he had been when he left.

No, Sam was a neat-freak. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't just sit around and not care enough for himself to not change his clothes, Dean thought.

Dean's heart broke more looking at his brother. Sam walked out of the store with his fare and headed back to the bunker. Dean couldn't help it; he had to follow him. Dean watched as his broken baby brother walked back towards the bunker. Dean continued to follow Sam. Then in a blink, Dean was back in his motel room.

"What the hell?!" Dean exclaimed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Metatron said.

"Nothing," Dean said. "He didn't know I was there. I've had enough of this, you have to let me help him."

"You know Dean," Metatron wheedled, "When I told you I wanted a different story that meant you too. Not just Sam. You're still giving me the same over-protective brother story. I want a new story. And with that that means that you DO NOT SEE HIM!" The angel shouted the final four wards, causing the television to crack from the force. Dean just stood there.

"Now," Metatron was back to a calm voice. "If you don't want to bury your brother, stay away from him."

He left leaving Dean heartbroken all over again.

Stop taking care of Sam. That was totally unheard of. Taking care of Sam have been hard-wired in Dean since he was four years old. It's always been Sammy. Now, what was he supposed to do? Dean knew Sam wasn't eating. He was actually drinking. He had to get food for Sam. Sam had to eat.

Dean walked over to the door. When he tried to open it, it would not budge.

"What the-" Dean muttered.

He tried again and again his door was stuck. He couldn't leave. He was stuck in the motel. He was forcefully being held in his motel room because of what he was going to do.

"SONOFABITCH!"

Dean slumped down on the chair.

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After leaving Dean in the motel, Metatron went back up to Heaven. He was really enjoying himself. He got to be back home and he had a new story just waiting to be read. He walked into his place. Something was different. He dismissed it and went to his favorite chair and grabbed a book to read.

In a flash a pair of hands gripped him from behind, yanking him off the chair knocking several books that were stacked by the chair over. The next thing Metatron knew, he was being slammed into the far wall. And there were a pair of angry eyes looking at him. It felt like it was piercing all the way down to his grace.

"Now, now," a voice came from behind another stack of books. "If you kill him, we won't be able to fix what he broke."

To Metatron, he didn't even register that it was a woman holding him against the wall until a man walked from around the stack of books.

"Who are you?" Metatron struggled out. "And what are you doing in my place?"

"What did you do with my boys?" For someone who looked as captivating as she did, the venom of her voice actually scared Metatron in his shoes.

"Mare, calm down." John cautioned.

"CALM DOWN!" Mary, still holding on to Metatron, turned and faced John. "HE'S KILLING MY BABIES!"

When her hair whipped around, a few strains hit Metatron in the face. It actually hurt. He was dreading it but it was coming. She again whipped her head around to face him and said hairs hit him again.

"How dare you!" Mary said eerily quietly. "What gives you the right to decide how our sons live their lives?"

Now Metatron was the voice of God, How could this small woman scare him into trembling? He was the great Metatron.

He was jolted out of this train of thought by his back being slam into the wall again.

"I asked you a question."

"I just wanted..."

"If you say you wanted another story, I swear to God..."

"MARY."

This took Metatron by such surprise. The entire time this was happening, John never raised his voice. Once he did the room shook. That was very surprising.

"John," Mary said. "You have nothing to say to me. You're still on my shit-list for that last order."

Mary didn't even look at John when she said it, but John took a few steps back as if he was punched in the face and stomach at the same time.

Who is this woman? Metatron thought.

Just then the front door opened, and Joshua came in.

"Now Mary," Joshua said. "John's right. You can't kill him."

Now the floodgates opened up and tears streamed down Mary's face.

"Do you know what this—this thing has done to my boys," cried Mary.

"Yes, I do," Joshua said calmly. "And it's being fixed as we speak."

Joshua walked over to where Mary was still holding Metatron. He calmly put one hand on hers and his other on her back.

"Let him go." His voice was so soothing and calm in her ear. Her grip loosened. Joshua pulled her away from him and wrapped his arms around her. She laid her head on his shoulder just cried in his arms. Joshua just rubbed circles on her back and let her cry.

"What are you still doing here?" Metatron said once he got his voice back from the shock of seeing Joshua walk in. "I expelled all angels."

"You silly man," Joshua said. "Did you really think that that spell would work on someone like me? You may have been God's voice, but I'm the one He talks to."

"My babies. My babies," Mary continued to cry in Joshua's arms. Joshua began slightly rocking Mary, who was still in his arms, soothing her but letting her cry.

"Now you know it is not those boys' time," Joshua soothingly said to her. "Like I said before, someone is going to stop this."

Mary raised her head. And looked at Joshua.

"I have to go down there. My babies need me."

"Now, Mary," Joshua looked at her. "I know you want to but I've already sent someone down there. I am confidant that he will get them back together." Joshua looked up at Metatron with a look that would scare anyone. "With no repercussions. Isn't that right?"

Mary turned and looked at Metatron.

With both burning holes in Metatron, he gulped loudly and slowly nodded.

"Good." Joshua said with a smile. "Now, Mary would you like to join me for some tea."

"But my babies..."

"Will be fine," Joshua cut her off. "John, you come too, please."

Mary stepped away from Joshua, but not before eying Metatron once more. With a small squeeze on her shoulder, Mary walked out of the door. John followed. Joshua walked towards the door and stopped.

"By the way," Joshua turned back, the smile gone from his face, "If you ever think of doing something like this again, you will have me to answer to. Those boys are not to be touched. You know this. Why is this such a hard concept is beyond me?" His calming smile returned. "Don't let me have to come back here. Have a wonderful day."

Joshua left. Metatron just stood there in utter shock. He couldn't believe what just happened. Maybe another story was not the best way to go. Then maybe...

_0000_0000_0000_0000_0000_

Dean couldn't believe that Metatron locked him in his room. He slumped down in the chair still thinking about how bad Sam looked. How was he supposed to stop caring for him? Hell, Sam is his baby brother. This was just too much. It was killing him. Sam had once told him that he needed to start taking care of himself. But that was the thing, for 30 years, it has always been Sam. Sam has always come first. Dean has always put himself on the back burner. Even when he went to bars or was going to pick up chicks, he would always make sure Sam was settled before he would leave out.

Oh God, he hated this feeling. This empty feeling that has crept into his life, that each time it happened he always told himself it was the last time. Sam going to college. Sam dying. Sam jumping into the cage. The trials. How many times could Dean have his heart broken?

Dean was disturbed from his thoughts of helplessness when the door burst open.

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Sam walked into the bunker. He sighed as he put the two cases of beer on the table in the library. He looked around the room. All the books and knowledge that was around him, and he could care less. This was the mecca of everything supernatural. When they first set foot in this place, Sam couldn't get enough of all the information that was around him. He even stayed up all night going through the books. Now, he couldn't give a damn if they were here or not. If there was no Dean then what was the point.

This was too much for him. How was he supposed to live? All his life he's been following Dean. It never failed. Dean was always in front of him. To protect him. What was he to do now? Before he would scream for some peace, but deep down he never wanted to happen. Dean stood in front of him but he had always let him become his own person. That was one thing that Sam loved Dean for. Dean may have been over-protective, but he also let Sam stand on his own feet. He let Sam make mistakes and was always there when he fell. Dean was pretty much Sam's mother, father, brother, and confidant. How was he to break a tie like that? If it wasn't for Dean, he wouldn't even be here.

Being alone is too much. Having no contact with Dean is just too much. Sam walked around the bunker. The more rooms he looked at, the more and more he didn't want to be here. He was alone. He didn't want to be alone anymore. Honestly he didn't want to be here anymore. The last stop he made was to his room. Nothing in there but a bed and a desk. He walked over to his duffel and pulled out his knife. He had no mother, no father, no Dean. No Bobby, no Rufus, no Dean. No Pastor Jim, no Caleb, no Dean. No Ellen, no Jo, no Dean. No Dean. No Dean. No Dean. So what is the point of staying if there is no one around to be with? Sam truly had no one.

Sam sat on the end of his bed and just looked at the knife. He knew where to cut to make it efficient. But right now, he didn't want efficient. He wanted slow and torturous. He wanted to feel every moment of it. Because deep down he knows that all of this, everything, was his fault. Everything would not have happened if he had never been born. Well tonight Sam was going to rectify that.

A lone person, stood in the corner, unnoticed, with the sad revelation of what was about to occur.

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Dean jumped up when the door burst opened. He couldn't believe who was standing there. It can't be. No way. Totally not possible. All these things were going through Dean's mind when he saw the person standing in the doorway.

"Are you going to stand there like an idjit, or are you going back to your brother?"

"Bobby," Dean said. He still couldn't believe that he was standing there. "What are you doing here?"

"Fixing what you idjits messed up," Bobby said walking over towards Dean. "You need your brother. And right now, Sam needs you more."

"I can't see him, Bobby," Dean sounded so dejected. "If I go and see Sammy, he'll die. Metatron took my brother away from me."

Bobby's heart just broke looking at Dean this way. Dean looked up at Bobby.

"Don't look at me that way," Dean said. "I had to save his life. This was the only way. Sammy was going to die."

"He will die if you don't get off your ass and get to that bunker."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why do you think I'm here," Bobby said sitting on the bed across from Dean. "I know what's going on. I know about the trials. I know what you and Sam were doing. But you cannot separate. You can't survive without Sam and Sam will not last the night without you. Now stop this pity party you're having and get back to your brother."

"Well, if you know what's been going on, then you know what Metatron did. And what I have to do to keep Sammy alive."

"Okay, Dean," Bobby sighed, standing up. His patience is wearing thin. He knew he only had a few hours before he's sent back. Now it's time to get through that thick Winchester skull. Bobby walks over towards Dean and with all the love he has for both boys, cuffs Dean on the back of the head.

Dean yelps in pain. "Dammit, Bobby. What the hell?" Dean rubbing his sore head.

"Look, idjit, I don't have a lot of time. So I am going to spell it out to you." Bobby clears his throat, steps in front of Dean, bend over so they are eye to eye and speaks. "GO. TO. YOUR. BROTHER."

Dean slumps back in the chair. Bobby reaches in his pocket and pulls out what he was searching for in his place. He puts the object in Dean's hand and stands back up.

"I know you don't understand what is truly going on," Bobby said with a calmer voice. "But you have to trust me on this. Get to your brother. I promise nothing will happen to him if you go back. Metatron will be taken care of. The only thing you have to worry yourself about is your brother. Now go to him. Don't make me kick your ass out that door."

Dean got up and walked over towards the door. Hesitantly, he grabs hold of the knob to see if it will open. It does. A smirk comes across Dean's face.

"Oh, one more thing," Bobby said. Dean turned and faced him still holding on to the door; afraid that it will close when he's not looking. "If you throw that out one more time, I promise you I will kick your ass from now until eternity. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

With that, Bobby vanished. Dean turns and heads out of the door. He jumps into the Impala and heads back to the bunker. His heart is literally racing at the chance of seeing his brother again. Two weeks is a long time to be separated.

Sam is sitting on the bed in Dean's room. Looking at the knife in his hand. He's poking the end of it in his finger. It's really sharp. Well, it's to be expected. He's been trained to keep his knives and machetes razor sharp. Sam looks at the knife and then his arm. He sighs as he looks around the room. Dean's room. Dean will never be back. His throat begins to burn with tears. He wants his brother around. He can't even call him. So what if he made this deal? If Metatron want a story then his story was going to end. And end fast. He could just screw himself and his story. Sam puts the knife to his skin and presswa down. He begins to move the knife.

"SAMMY. Sammy, where are you?"

Sam's head shoots up towards the door. It can't be. He's hearing things. But his heart is racing that it just might be true. Could it be true?

"Sam. Where are you?"

"D'n," his voice is small and low, but it doesn't seem hard for big brother to hear. He hears footsteps getting closer and closer to where he is.

Sam is completely frozen in his state. He doesn't move, not one inch. He needs to see if that voice is real or if his mind is playing tricks on him. He doesn't have to wait long. Dean walks into his room and stops in the doorway. He's too is frozen in place to what he sees in front of him.

"Sammy," Dean said filled with worry. "What do you think you're doing?"

Sam is still just sitting on the bed looking at his brother. Dean is standing at the door. He's really here. The knife in his hand finally falls. He stands up in a rush. Because the only thing Sam has really consumed since he woke up two weeks ago was alcohol and now he has an angry cut on his wrist, standing up as fast as he did was not good.

Dean watched as the color drain from Sam's face and he collapse towards the floor. Dean, being the awesome big brother he is, he is at Sam's side the minute he begins to fall and catches him before he hits the floor.

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Mary was sitting at the table, her head in her hands. Surprisingly, she was very tired. But truth be told she just went through a very emotional day. Joshua walked up to the table, holding two mugs, and sat down across from her. He slid one of the mugs to her. She removed her hands and saw the steaming cup of tea in front of her.

"Drink," Joshua said. "It will soothe you."

Mary looked at Joshua, completely heartbroken. "My babies. He's hurting my babies."

"Mary," Joshua put his mug down on the table and reached across the table and took her hand. "I need you to listen to me. We have had this discussion before. I did something that I wasn't supposed to do. I told you when you should expect your boys. And I told you how you would get them. Now I need you to believe me when I tell you, that nothing will hurt your boys until that day. And that day isn't for a long time coming."

"Yeah," Mary sighed. "I know. I just can't help the fact that they are all alone there. I just hate that I couldn't be there for them. Can I see them." Her eyes filling up with tears.

"Mary," Joshua forlornly said. "You know you can't."

Tears flowed from her eyes. She knew she couldn't. She knew it wasn't allowed. But if she had to do it again she would. For her babies.

"That poltergeist was hurting Sammy. Dean was going to take the brunt of it if I didn't get that thing away," Mary cried. She was almost yelling.

"I know," Joshua calmly said. "I know. And I know if it were to happen again, you would do the same. But doing what you did you now cannot leave. Not like John or Bobby. You destroyed your ghost self when you did that. You can't go back."

Mary put her head down and cried in her tea, her hand over her eyes. Neither spoke for a while. Then a small voice emerged from Mary.

"Just tell me that my babies will be alright." Joshua looked up at her. "Please, will they be alright."

A small smile came across Joshua's face. That one act seemed to calm all the nerves in Mary's body. She couldn't help but to return the smile.

"They will be just fine," Joshua said. "They always are."

He gave her arm a reassuring squeeze and they sat in silence finishing their tea.

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Sam was surrounded by darkness, a calm, comforting darkness. He feels a something damp on his forehead. It felt wonderful. He's been hot for a while. The cool cloth on his head felt good. Sam reached up to grab the cloth and felt a hand.

"No, Sammy, leave it."

Sam's brow creased. It can't be. It's not true. He can't be here.

"D'n," Sam muttered, his lips barely opening to speak.

"Yeah, Sammy," Dean said. "I ought to kick your ass. You haven't been eating. You've been drinking too much."

"Why you fussing?" Sam slurs out.

"I told you to take care of your self. This is not taking care of yourself. Fever. Starvation. Drunkenness."

"You've been gone for two weeks and you still fussing," Sam smirked.

"Hell yes, I'm fussing," Dean said smiling. "I don't know what your problem is."

"Okay, if you're going to fuss," Sam said pulling the cloth off his eyes. "Stop laughing."

"What?" Dean, said clearing his throat trying to keep himself from chuckling. "I'm not laughing."

Sam tried to sit up and felt a hand on his chest. Even though they have been joking around the feel of that hand meant that he wasn't supposed to get up. Sam blinked a few times to clear his vision and really looked at Dean. His heart just began to swell at the sight of his big brother. That he just knew that he wasn't going to ever see again.

"D'n," Sam's voice was thick with tears.

"Hey," Dean said. "None of that."

"But I thought..."

"Well, let's just say, there's something out there that doesn't want us to separate."

"Are you really back, or am I dreaming?" A tear slipped from Sam's eye.

Dean leaned down. Cupped his brother cheek. Sam closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

"I'm real. I'm here. I am not leaving. Not again. This is no dream, little brother."

Sam opened his eyes, sat up, and looked at his brother. He wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and pulled him into an embrace. Dean, a little shocked by this, couldn't help but love the fact that his baby brother was in his arms again. Dean knew that they would have to have a discussion on what he walked into, but for right now he really just wanted to hold his brother.

Standing quietly in the corner unbeknownst to either Sam or Dean were two people standing there. Mary's heart was just filled with so much joy. Tears streaming down her face. She wanted so much to go over to her babies and just hold them, but she knew she couldn't. She knew she really wasn't supposed to be here. So she just settled on watching the reunion of her boys. She saw how much they have grown since the last time she laid eyes on them. She drank in everything that she could just by looking at them. So much she wanted to get closer, but she made a promise.

Then an arm extended out in front of her. She looped her arms in it and laid her head on the proffered shoulder.

"Thank you so much," Mary whispered.

"You're welcome," Joshua said. "Time to go."

Mary lifted her head, looked at her babies one more time, then turned her back to them and faced Joshua.

Taking a deep breath. "Okay, I know they are going to be fine now. Let's go."

Just as quietly as they came, they left just the same. With two brothers completely unaware that they had ever been there.

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Joshua walked in Metatron's flat again. He saw that Metatron was sitting by his books but wasn't reading. Joshua couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at what he was seeing. He was actually sitting there sulking. Metatron sulking. Who would ever have guessed that? The scribe of God, sulking.

"What are you doing here?" Metatron said.

"I've come to talk to you," Joshua said with laughter in his voice.

"If you come to gloat, then you are very much welcome to leave."

"Oh now," Joshua laughed. "Don't be that way."

Metatron glared at the man who was dare laugh at him, and to his face no less. After the laughing ceased, Metatron saw the same said man expression go dark. Metatron gulped.

"What do you want?" Metatron said even though it didn't come out as harsh.

"You have a lot to answer for," Joshua said with all seriousness. There was no lightness in his voice. This made Metatron shake a little. Joshua pulled a chair out and sat down across from Metatron.

"Now, one of your infractions is going to have to wait until I have the strength and calmness to deal with it. But this was the last straw. I thought when you wrote it down, you knew that I meant business. Do. Not. Touch. The. Winchesters. Why is that so hard for people to get? Because I have to deal with you later, you are not feeling my wrath right now. But rest assured everything will be dealt with. Now as for your sick perversion of wanting a good story, that one you will not see. Because next time I will not stop that woman from coming back again."

Metatron finally found his voice and asked, "Who was that woman?"

"You don't know," Joshua said. Metatron shook his head. "That was the boys' mother. She is a force to be reckoned with. If you go after them again, she will come back. And she won't be as nice."

"You call that nice?" Metatron said. "She ruined some of my books."

"Just be happy I stopped her before she ruined you," Joshua stood up. "Now, I hope we have an understanding."

Joshua then turned and left the room leaving Metatron sitting in the same spot.

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Dean walked into his room with a tray of tomato and rice soup, grilled cheese, and juice in his hands. The sight he saw when he came in his room he couldn't help but smile at. Sam was curled up on his side, asleep. He looked at his brother, knowing he needed to eat, but just not having the heart to go over and wake him. He stood there for a minute then decided that Sam really needed something in his stomach so he walks over towards the bed. He puts the tray down on the nightstand and sits on the side of the bed.

"Wake up, Sam," Dean said shaking his shoulder. Sam grunts a little. "Come on little brother, you need to eat."

"Not hungry."

"Yeah, well, I don't remember asking you."

Sam turned his head into his pillow. Dean swore he heard 'jerk' mumbled into the pillow. Dean smiled at that.

"Come on," Dean said standing back up. "Sit up so that you can eat. Seeing how you can't seem to do it when I'm not around."

Sam turned and looked at his brother and saw the seriousness in his face. He sat up. Dean placed the tray on Sam's lap and pulled his chair out and sat down. Sam looked down at the tray.

"I want you to eat all of that," Dean said. "I am not going to watch you waste away. Eat."

"Dean, I..."

"Don't talk," Dean cut Sam off. "We'll talk after your finished. Because there are some things that you are going to have to explain to me."

Sam looked at his brother then put his head down. He knew what they were going to be talking about. He so didn't want to have that conversation.

"Sammy," Dean said pulling Sam out of his thoughts. "Either you start eating, or I'll come over there and start feeding you."

Pure horror came across Sam's face. One look at Dean and he knew he was serious. Deep down Sam was really loving the attention he was getting from his brother, but the last thing he wanted was for said brother to feed him like he was a small child. Sam picked up half of his grilled cheese and started eating. Dean nodded and sat back in his chair.

Sam had gotten through all of his grilled cheese, half of his soup and all of his juice when Dean came over and took the tray from his lap. Sam's heart was racing because he didn't want to have this talk. Dean put the tray back on the nightstand then he pulled his chair over to the bed and sat back down. Dean could see that Sam was nervous about talking. Truth be told, he didn't want to talk either, but he had to know that his baby brother was alright and that he would try that again.

"Sam."

"Wait," Sam cut Dean off. "I know what you're going to say, and I'm sorry."

"Sam."

"It's just, at the time, you weren't here."

"Sam."

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't be here anymore."

"Sam. Stop."

"No Dean, I have to say this."

"Sam, you really don't. I understand."

"What?"

"I understand. I know it's been hard. I just want to know, now that I'm back, do I need to keep an eye on you?"

Sam looked at his brother. The last thing he thought he would hear was that. He just knew Dean would yell at him for what he saw.

"Sammy," Dean again breaking Sam from his thoughts, "I can't do this if you're not here. So do I have to keep my eye on you."

"No."

"This won't happen again." Sam shook his head. "I want to hear it."

"It won't happen again, Dean. Promise."

"Good," Dean said getting up from the chair and moving it back. "Because I'd hate to have to come after you and kick your ass from here to eternity."

Sam smiled.

"Why don't you lay back down and get some rest." Dean didn't miss the flash of hurt on Sam's face. "Don't worry little brother. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise."

Sam slid back down under the covers and closed his eyes. Dean looked at him for a minute. "Yeah, little brother, I'll be here when you wake up."

Dean grabbed the tray and walked out the room.

THE END

A/N: I would like to thank everyone who have taken the time to read my story. Please take the time to leave a review and let me know what you think!

Many hugs and kisses to you all

Mandancie :)