DISCLAIMER: I do not own 'Supernatural'

Summary: Post 9x13. Sam and Dean have another fight, but because of it they both start to set things right. A little bit of sick!Dean and caring!Sam.

A/N: I hate it when the brothers fight, and if they just say how they really feel, then half of their problems would've been solved by now. So I randomly wrote this when I was half asleep. And I also should add that I've never written a SPN fanfic before so I hope I did ok. And I suck at summaries so thank you if you clicked to read the story. Hope you enjoy!

"No, I wouldn't. Same circumstances, I wouldn't."

The tension between them only intensified after that last conversation. They didn't see much of each other. It had only been three days, but it felt like an eternity.

What Sam meant to say from that was that he wouldn't let Dean get violated by an angel or demon or anything, especially without his consent. Sam knew how it felt to be possessed, it made him feel dirtier than the demon blood in his veins ever could.

Sam was still angry at Dean, but for those past three days he felt lonely.

Now Dean hardly ever left his room and he always locked the door behind him. Sam tried to make small talk during the day if they were both in the kitchen or library, but Dean didn't seem interested and tried to end the conversations quickly even if he started one up.

But Sam decided he was going to leave it at that. He knew it seemed cruel, but he had to get through Dean's head somehow, so he just left Dean alone to take it all in. Sam wanted Dean to realize what was actually wrong with what he did. So Sam put his foot down and he wasn't going to give in or back down, even if Dean was moping and brooding. He felt like it needed to be done.

Sam wiped his hand over his face as he avoided thinking about it any further. He checked his watch and it was now late evening. Sam was looking for a case all day and he found nothing, meanwhile Dean was locked in his room for another day. Sam gave up on finding a case and he decided to do some research instead on Medatron and Gadreel.

The sound of footsteps made Sam snap out of his current research on Medatron and Gadreel. Dean didn't even look at Sam as he walked passed him. Sam was tempted to say something to Dean, but he decided not to. Dean walked straight past him and five minutes later he walked past again, but this time he was holding another bottle of whiskey. Sam couldn't tell if Dean had a secret stash or if they just appeared out of nowhere, but Dean was just drinking bottle after bottle.

"Another one?" Sam asked as he let a hint of his anger leak out. He never liked how his brother would just try and drown his feelings than talk about them.

"Yep."

Sam sighed, "Dean." He stood up from his chair. That allowed Sam to take a good look at his older brother. If he said that Dean looked awful, it would've been an understatement. He immediately recognized that Dean hadn't changed his clothes for the past two days. His scruff had gotten thicker and the bags under his eyes were so dark that they could've been mistaken for second shadows, but that was also because of how pale he was. And his breath reeked of alcohol.

At Dean's appearance, Sam couldn't help but think it was some sort of act, "You don't think I see what you're trying to do?"

Dean stared at Sam, "And what's that?"

"I just want to say now that, I'm not taking back what I said and no amount of your moping is going to change what I did say."

Dean rolled his eyes, "I know, I get it." He obviously wanted to end the conversation.

Sam noticed and replied, "No you don't, Dean."

"Yes actually, I do. And if you really think that I'm doing all this because I want your attention, than you're the one that's wrong. But no, 'I'm Sam Winchester and everything's about me! Me! Me!'"

The last thing that either of them wanted is for them to have another fight, but neither of them could stop.

"You think I'm being selfish?" Sam wanted to laugh. "What about you? You're the one that brought me back just so you wouldn't be alone. And you're calling ME selfish."

"Yes, I'm selfish." Dean admitted, "But if you think for a second that I was trying to be selfish by bringing you back, than you're dead wrong."

"How can you expect me to say that what you did wasn't selfish? It was, Dean! No matter how you try to justify it! It's like you're not even listening to me!"

"I'm the one not listening?" Dean didn't want to believe his ears. "Now look who's being the hypocrite!"

'Hypocrite'. Sam just shook his head as he saw Dean's expression, to Sam it looked like that Dean was convinced that he wasn't a hypocrite at all. A new wave of rage took over Sam and he snapped, "You're the king of hypocrites, Dean! Don't try to say that you're not!"

"I'm not saying that I'm not! I'm saying that right now you're being one!"

"So you're saying that I shouldn't be mad at you for what you did?"

Dean was silent and shook his head, not to say 'no', but because he knew that they were both getting nowhere with this argument.

Sam mistook his silence as a 'yes' for his question and he went to a whole new level of pissed.

"You seriously think I shouldn't be mad." It was more of a statement than a question.

Dean let out a tired breath, "Sam-"

"You do." Sam cut off Dean. "Did you forget that it was me and Kevin that had to pay the price for your decision!?"

Sam had ripped open the fresh wound and rubbed salt in it. "You think I don't know that!" Dean yelled louder than he had in a long time. He made his hurt sound like anger.

Sam would've been intimidated if he weren't starting to see red, "Well it doesn't seem to be sinking in if you think that it wasn't a big deal!"

"I'm not saying that it wasn't!"

Sam ignored Dean, "Or is it not sinking in because you're 'poison'? Did you really think that leaving was going to help?"

Dean really had enough of how Sam began to verbally attack him, "Will you just shut up for one second and listen to what I have to say!?"

Sam didn't want to listen to Dean anymore. "No, I've had enough of you, Dean and I really don't care! I'm done!"

Sam immediately turned and stormed off out of the bunker. Dean just stood there stunned for a while until he just opened up the bottle of whiskey and decided to start drinking it.

It was hours and Dean just let all what Sam said sink in.

"How can you expect me to say that what you did wasn't selfish? It was, Dean! No matter how you try to justify it! It's like you're not even listening to me!"

Had they really fell apart this much?

"Did you forget that it was me and Kevin that had to pay the price for your decision!?"

How could he forget? Now Dean was even more convinced that he would burn for that mistake. Dean had finished the bottle of whiskey and had started a new one. He was already drunk, but all he wanted to do was drown his sorrow.

Dean drank about a third of the straight whiskey before he put it down and went into the bathroom. At this point Dean was so damn drunk. He stared into the mirror over the sink.

He asked his reflection, "What are you?" Dean stared at it, as if he was waiting for some sort of response, but he received none. He repeated his question angrier and louder, "What the hell are you!?" He once again waited for a reply for a moment before he slammed his fist into the mirror.

The shards fell everywhere on the ground. His hand luckily had no pieces of glass in it, but regardless, it was still bleeding. Dean collapsed unto his knees and just looked around him even though he was in a drunken haze. Dean had drunken tears form in his eyes as he saw broken shards of the mirror all around him. That's when he realized that the shards represented him in more ways than one.

That's what he was, broken. Even since he got back from Purgatory, Dean knew that he was changing. He wasn't the same and everyone around him was beginning to notice as well. Dean was lost. He had held himself together somehow for a long time, but after what happened with Gadreel, Dean shattered.

All that he was now were pieces of a puzzle that he was trying to fit back together again, but he never seemed to pick up the right pieces, none of them would fit together. A part of him wished that Sam would help put Humpty Dumpty back together again, but now they were divided and their bond was broken.

The only thing that kept him hanging on was Sam, and the hope they could make amends, but now he thought that it was obvious that Sam just didn't care about him anymore. He now truly believed that his little brother hated him.

After a few hours Sam still hadn't completely cooled off. Sam did anything he could just to keep himself busy and keep his mind off the fight.

Sam admitted to himself that even for him, what he said was harsh. He didn't know what took over him, he wasn't himself. Sam decided he would go back and at least try to apologize to Dean about their fight. He strolled back to the bunker.

Sam walked back into bunker he saw a new bottle of whiskey next to an empty one. Sam sighed, of course Dean would choose to water down his thoughts and emotions again. From where Sam stood he could hear an unusual sound coming from the hallway.

He continued to investigate as he found the bathroom door wide open with Dean vomiting in the toilet. Sam's eyes widened as he saw the remains of the broken mirror all over the ground. What exactly was Dean doing while he was gone? As Dean continued to violently puke into the toilet he just let instinct take over.

Dean suddenly felt a soothing rubbing motion on his back. He didn't hear that Sam had come back.

"Hey, just take it easy." Sam's soft tone confused Dean.

Dean decided he was too drunk to try and question Sam and he continued to throw up as Sam rubbed circles on his back. Dean continued to vomit for another 20 minutes before it finally came to a halt. For that whole time Sam was silent and continued to rub his back.

"Ugh. I'm never drinking again." Dean coughed and groaned out since his throat was still raw from vomiting. That in total answered Sam's question about why the mirror was broken, but it didn't tell him why, but to Sam he wasn't too bothered by it.

"C'mon." Sam helped Dean to his feet. Dean didn't want Sam's help, he didn't even know why Sam was helping him, but he felt too tried and defeated to even attempt to protest so he let Sam drag him.

Dean buried his head into his hands. Everything was spinning and his head felt like someone split it open like a coconut. It was nothing new. He barely even noticed that he was in the dining room.

Sam placed a glass of water and aspirin in front of Dean and sat across from him with the med-kit out. "Let me see."

Dean stared at him for a moment before he hesitantly held out his hand. Dean had almost forgot that it was bleeding.

Sam inspected it and he muttered something about it not being too deep and he started to bandage it up. Both were silent and it wasn't a comfortable silence.

Dean just watched as Sam wrapped up his hand. It reminded him of when he had wrapped Sam's hand with his bandana back at the church, but maybe that was just the leftover alcohol in his system talking. When Sam was done and he put away the kit and Dean started to drink the aspirin, Sam finally broke the silence.

"Listen Dean, I'm sorry for what I said when we had that fight. It was uncalled for."

Dean shakily put his glass down and just took a deep breath as he tried to ignore his splitting headache, "I'm going to talk now it's my turn. All you need to do is just listen to me for like five minutes."

Sam decided to listen so he gave a short nod.

Dean began, "Sam, what I did, I agree with you. It was selfish, but not for the reason you think. It's because…" He tried to find the right words "...It's because if I did that I would be signing my own death certificate."

"Dean-"

"I'm not done!" Dean sternly snapped back. "I know you believe that I'm ok with doing the sacrificing because that way I'm not the one that gets hurt, but the real reason I'm willing to do them is because I'm not as strong as you."

Sam slightly tilted his head like a puppy in confusion.

"I've never been able to let go or move on, you always could. If it were me to do the sacrificing, it would hurt but you would be able to move on and live your life. But me, I can't do that. I never have. I also find it extremely funny how you took on the trials because you wanted both of us to live and yet you threw that speech right back at my face when I told you that the final trial would kill you."

Sam was about to protest, but Dean quickly continued, "It's always been my job to protect our family. All my life that has been my purpose and my reason to live. And I've failed time after time, but the one person I refuse to give up on, is you, even if you give up on yourself like back at the church and when you were dying."

Sam's mind became a jumble as he continued to listen.

Dean now looked Sam straight in the eyes as he said his final words, "Sam, I know you were ready, but I couldn't watch and let you just give up and not even put up a fight. And I know that because of that, I did something that will haunt me forever. And I know that you're pissed at me and you might not ever forgive me. But to me it doesn't matter that you don't trust me. It doesn't matter that whatever we had is broken. And it doesn't matter that you hate me. I'm never going to give up on you because you're all I have and I'm not just talking about how you're my family. I'm talking about my life in general. I know you probably disagree and you may not like it, but that's how it is."

Considering Dean was still partially drunk as he said all this with a murderous headache, he expressed everything he kept bottled up and he felt better, not to a great extent, but he did feel better.

Sam was speechless. There was a long silence before he realized a specific sentence that Dean had said, "You think that I hate you?" Sam stared at Dean with his puppy dog eyes.

Dean looked away from Sam and nodded, "Well with these past few days, yeah."

Sam shook his head sadly, "I'm pissed still, but I could never hate you, even if I tried."

Dean looked toward Sam as he said this. Now it was Sam's turn to set the cards straight.

"On our last hunt when you drugged and you called me, I thought my heart stopped. All I could think was, 'is he in danger? what if I don't find him in time? Please God, let him be ok.' I could stay mad at you forever, but I would still care about you. And the night when I said that I wouldn't do the same, it's because if you wanted to die I would let you and I wouldn't let get possessed because it's the worst feeling imaginable. And it's because that I care about you, I would never do that to you. But now I understand a little better as to why, but it still doesn't justify it. What you did was wrong."

"I know." Dean agreed. "But to me it was the right decision and I am sorry that I hurt you because of it. And Kevin…." Dean couldn't bring himself to say anything else after the mention of Kevin's name.

Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, "Dean, I'm still pissed about what you did, but I want us to try and fix the gap that was put between us. I want us to be brothers again. I don't like all this fighting, it doesn't feel right." Sam was aware he was pushing Dean away, but he decided, no more.

Dean nodded, "Ok, we'll start over. We'll have a fresh start and build it back up and work it out. And even if it takes forever, I'll earn back your trust."

"I'd like that." Sam smiled. This was better, even though Dean was still partially drunk, he knew that this conversation was real.

In that moment, both of them felt like they could breathe again. They sat in a comfortable silence and they both just sat there. It was like a massive weight was picked up from their shoulders.

As Dean tried to stand up from his chair, Sam mirrored him. Dean began to sway so he sat back down.

"Want help getting back to your room?"

Dean nodded as he felt a new wave of nausea go over him, but he kept it down. Sam supported his brother until they got to Dean's room. Sam saw Dean's room for the first time in a long time. It made Sam somewhat happy to walk back in there.

Dean dived unto his bed as soon as he was in range and became semi-unconscious. Sam pulled off his boots and he managed to pull the comforter over him.

"Goodnight Dean." Sam was about to walk out until he heard Dean murmur,

"G'night Sammy."

Sam didn't know how much he had missed that nickname. He didn't hear it for three days and he knew that wasn't long, but he had missed it.

Sam smiled as he turned off the light and shut the door quietly behind him. He knew that they weren't out of the woods yet, but now at least they were on the road to recovery. And for now, it was enough for the both of them.

THE END

A/N: What did you think?

Anyway, please leave a review or not, I can't tell you what to do I'm not your mother.