Note: Set after the 2nd trial, post Taxi Driver (8.19). Rated T for some language and frightening memories.

In retrospect, I should have seen it coming.

You don't take a day trip to hell and return unscathed.

I should have predicted that the latest trial would bring about a lot of dark memories for my little brother.

It didn't matter that he hadn't gone back to the cage; entering hell was enough for those horrific recollections to move to the forefront of the kid's mind.

I hadn't even taken the trip and I was already trying to re-bury all the memories of my time there.

So when Sam bolted up in bed screaming out in terror…I shouldn't have been surprised.

But I was.

Although I was shocked awake by the screams from my little brother, I knew instantly what was going on with him and I immediately clambered out of my bed and rushed over to his.

"Sam! It's okay. You're okay!" I hollered over the noise, as I came into his view.

I didn't get too close though, Sam may have been weaker since the second trial, but he was still lethal, especially when he thought he was under threat.

"Sam! Sammy, it's me!" I tried again, taking a cautious step closer.

The screaming continued, the sound making me cringe. Sam had woken up from many nightmares in his lifetime, and sometimes he came awake screaming, but never like this, never this desperate or this terrified.

"Sammy, come on man! Snap out of it!" I ordered loudly, watching as the young man before me continued to flail and holler

Sam's eyes flashed up and met mine for a second, and the instant I saw them I knew he wasn't seeing or hearing me. His eyes were filled with fear and pain. I knew that awake or not he was still trapped in his memory, still reliving whatever horror had been plaguing his mind.

As the kid fought in an uncoordinated and unaware form, my concern grew that he was going to hurt himself so I approached him quickly, avoiding the swings at my face, and slid behind the terrorized young man.

I wrapped my arms around Sam, pinning his hands to his chest as I pulled him back to rest against me.

He tried to fight me, his screams escalating as he struggled.

"Sammy! Stop it man. Come on, it's just me, little brother. You're alright. You're safe. It's just me." I urged into his ear, desperate to stop the shrieking and to pull him from the evil place he was imprisoned in.

Sam continued fighting clumsily, but desperately, to escape form my restraining embrace.

"Sammy, stop it. Please!" I begged, my voice cracking as tears slid from my eyes.

It killed me to see my brother suffering, and not being able to save him, not being about the bring him back to me and make him feel safe.

The fighting stopped as suddenly as it had begun, the scream dying down to a gasping sob.

"That's it kiddo. You're here, you're here with me. You're safe. I'm here." I vowed as I waited for my little brother to calm down and get a grip on reality.

"You're okay, buddy. You're alright." I soothed slowly rocking back and forth as Sam's sobs shook his thin body.

"I got you, Sammy." I promised as I held onto him.

I didn't know how long we sat there for, how long I held him and whispered reassurances into his ear, how long he sobbed and shook before his crying tapered off and his tear-stained face was pressed up against me.

"Dean." Sam whispered, wiggling his left hand free from my now loose grip and resting it against my chest, gripping my shirt.

I felt a stab of guilt as his hand rested near my neckline, where the amulet used to be. I thought perhaps that was what he had been looking for when he gripped onto my shirt.

"Yeah Sammy, I'm right here." I replied softly, brushing the ridiculously long hair from my little brother's face.

"Oh gawd, Dean." Sam moaned miserably.

"I'm sorry, buddy." I whispered, brushing his tangled hair with my fingers.

"Not your fault." Sam replied steadily, looking up at my face for the first time since being coherent.

His eyes no longer carried that fear and pain that they had when he had been screaming, but they held a dark haunted look; a shadow that I knew he always carried with him, one that had reemerged thanks to the latest trial.

Those fucking trials

"I shouldn't have let you go back." I said in a tone dripping with regret.

"Had to, had do the second trial, had to save Bobby." Sam insisted, his voice hoarse from screaming.

"It was supposed to be me." I choked out past the lump in my throat, swiping furiously at the tears that escaped from my eyes.

"Get your head out of your ass, Dean. Everything is not about you."

I looked in surprise at my little brother as he extracted himself from my grasp and sat up across from me, staring intently.

"It was my choice to do the trials."

"No, you just happened to do the first one because I screwed it up." I stated angrily.

"You didn't screw up."

I threw Sam a disbelieving expression.

"Even if the first trial was kind of an accident, I still made the decision to keep going with it, not you." Sam rasped.

"I shouldn't have let you." I sighed, taking in the thin, exhausted, haunted, young man sitting before me.

"You couldn't have stopped me." Sam declared, giving me an even look.

"I can do this." He insisted after I gave no response.

"I know you can do it Sam, but you shouldn't have to." I argued; my self-loathing feelings rising as I felt the guilt of the entire situation. If I wasn't such a screw-up, I would be doing the trials, and Sammy would be safe.

"Dean." Sam waited for eye-contact before continuing. "I know you wanted to take this, and I appreciate that, I really do. But this fell on me, and I can do it." My little brother implored. "But not without you." He finished, staring at me with those wide puppy dog eyes.

I nodded in solidarity.

"I'm with you Sammy, I'm always with you." I declared.

"Good, cause I might need you to carry me." Sam replied with a smirk, referencing the quote I had made to him earlier.

"Dude, how fucked up are our lives that we can relate them to Lord of the Rings?" I muttered with a role of my eyes.

Sam released a soft chuckle in return, the best sound I had heard in a while.

We sat quietly for a few moments until I noticed Sam's eyes drooping. The kid must have been exhausted, not only did he take a trip to hell, but he came back carrying a soul. I knew how draining that could be.

"Alright kiddo, you need to get some shuteye."

Sam's eyes widened immediately at the comment.

"I don't know if that's a good idea." He mentioned quietly.

"You'll be alright."

Sam shook his head.

"You need some sleep man. I'll be right here." I reassured.

The tired man glanced about the room uneasily before nodding reluctantly.

"That's my boy." I smiled, sliding out of the bed and gently pushing Sam down onto the pillow.

He released a long sigh as he looked up at me in concern.

"You'll be alright, Sammy." I encouraged softly, brushing his hair to the side, being reminded of the many times in our past I had spent trying to get him back to sleep after nightmares.

Sam bit his lip, the way he did whenever he was discouraged, even back when he was less than four feet tall. I smirked at the way my little brother could still remind me so much of the young child he had once been.

"Just close your eyes Sam, I'll be here." I promised as I stood beside the bed, watching him attempt to fight sleep.

Less than a minute later Sam's eyelids had slid closed without his permission and he was fast asleep. I stood over him for a few minutes, watching my little brother rest, looking for signs of distress and hoping that he would be able to get a night of decent sleep. God knew the kid needed it.

I was glad we hadn't made the trip back to the bunker. Don't get me wrong, I loved having my own room, but when it came to dealing with my kid brother's nightmares, it was a much easier task when he was sleeping less than two feet away.

When it seemed that perhaps Sam would be good for the night, I dropped back onto my bed and fell asleep to the quiet sound of my little brother's breathing.

I was not awoken in that same comforting manner.

Sam's screams resembled those of a victim of torture, which was exactly what I believed was happening in his head. This time Sam not only howled in the same soul-crushing manner, but he also catapulted out of his bed.

I rushed to my little brother, desperate to stop the screaming and rid of the look of horror obscuring his expression.

At my approach, Sam did something that took me by surprise.

I knew by the look in his eyes and the clumsiness of his movements that the frightened man was living in a memory, so when I hurried towards him I had been prepared for an attack. I had been prepared to block the blows and avoid the swinging arms. I had been prepared to restrain him.

What I had not been prepared for was having Sam cower away from me.

When the kid noticed me advancing towards him, he choked on a cry and stumbled backwards, collapsing to his knees. Instead of trying to get back up he remained in his kneeled position and hunched in on himself, ducking his head.

The hollering had stopped; something I had thought that I wanted, but what replaced it tore at my heart in a completely new way.

Sam was hunched over and shaking as he pleaded for his life.

"Stop. Stop. Please. Please don't. Please leave me alone." The words were barely audible, being obscured by sobs and the raspy tone of his voice, but I had no trouble hearing them.

I hardly recognized the young man in front of me. Sam had always been a fighter, no matter how scared or injured he might have been. The image of my little brother shying away and pleading for his life was one that was new to me. An image that would never leave me. And an image I needed to stop right fucking now.

"Sammy, buddy it's me. It's just me." I soothed, taking a step closer and watching him flinch because of it.

"Come on Sammy. You're here with me. I'm right here." I assured as I dropped to my knees once I was within arm's reach of the confused kid.

I stretched out and laid a gentle hand on the shaggy head, carding my fingers through the long hair.

Sam came back to the present at the feel of my touch, uncurling himself and looking up at me with wide tearful eyes.

"Dean." He cried, launching into my arms as though he were no bigger than a young child.

"Yeah Sammy, it's me, kiddo." I sighed in relief, feeling his long arms latch around me as mine did the same around him. I felt his hair tickling my face as he hooked his chin over my shoulder.

"It was so real." Sam whispered as he clung tighter to me, his arms shaking as he gripped me.

"It wasn't. You're right here with me, I got you little brother." I promised.

For a second I thought that maybe these weren't simply nightmares; that perhaps these were hallucinations, but then I recalled a period of time after Sam remembered hell. He would wake from nightmares so violently and it always took me awhile to get him to stand down and realize that he wasn't being threatened or harmed, that he wasn't in the cage.

I could tell by the duration and the way he behaved that Sam was not hallucinating, but experiencing night-terrors. And I really fucking hated it.

"Sorry." Sam hiccupped into my ear as his sobs finally subsided.

I pulled back immediately, holding my brother at arm's length with a hand resting on the back of his neck, making sure he was looking at me before I spoke.

"Don't you ever apologize for this kind of shit, just don't, not ever." I insisted strongly, making sure my kid got what I was saying.

Sam nodded slowly in understanding as I thumbed the tears from his face.

"This is so stupid, I feel like I'm five." He huffed as he made the effort to climb to his feet.

I stood with him, a firm grip on his forearm as he wobbled unsteadily.

"Dude, you were not this much work when you were five." I joked as I gently pushed him down onto the bed.

Sam sat heavily on the edge of the mattress, with his head in his hands.

"Will this night ever end?" He muttered in exhaustion.

"Yeah buddy, it will." I stated, sitting beside him and patting his knee.

"Doesn't feel like it." Sam replied with a sigh.

"Come on Sammy, we've been through nights like this before. We'll get through. We always do." I pointed out calmly.

"That doesn't make them suck any less."

"No it sure as hel…shit doesn't." I stuttered out.

"You can say 'hell' Dean; I'm not going to break." Sam replied with a tiny bit of a smile.

"Yeah well, I think you've had enough reminders of that place to last you a fucking lifetime, Sam, so I'd rather not add to it." I said in frustration.

"I'm fine, Dean."

"No, little brother, you are definitely not, but you will be." I added as a promise.

Sam nodded in response as he stared absently at the wall, his mind likely racing with all sorts of horrible things.

"Sam." I called softly, moving to squat down in front of him. I waited for him to focus his tired gaze on me before I spoke again.

"You want to talk about…about your…your dreams?" I asked nervously, not sure how to word the question, and not sure I actually wanted to hear about the memories that had been the cause of his night terrors.

Sam shook his head instantly.

"You sure? It might help to talk about it." I offered.

"No Dean, it won't. I…it just won't." Sam refused.

"It helped me."

Sam's eyes widened at my confession.

"When I told you about what happened in hell, about what I did. I mean at the time it was shitty, but it helped to get it out…it helped me move past it." I admitted quietly.

My brother sat silently looking at me, analyzing me with his searching stare.

"Dean…I…its…I don't want to…to put that on you." Tears welled up in the kids eyes as he looked away from me.

"Sam, I can handle it. Whatever it is, I swear I can handle it, little brother." I insisted, completely understanding the young man's fear of burdening me with the weight of his memories. I had felt that same fear myself once.

"I'm not ready." He rasped, blinking the tears from his eyes and glancing at me.

"That's alright, Sammy." I said, patting his hand and giving him a reassuring smile.

"But when you are ready, I want you to know that there is nothing you can't tell me. There's nothing you could say that would ever make me think any less of you." I insisted.

"It's not that…" Sam's shaky voice faded away, unable to find the right words.

"I can handle the weight. You took part of mine; let me take part of yours. Let me make it better." I pleaded.

The younger man looked at me a long moment with a watery gaze, before shaking his head and burying it into his hands.

"When you're ready, little brother, when you're ready." I whispered, placing a quick kiss on his shaggy head as I stood. Before I could take more than two steps away, I felt long thin fingers lock around my wrist. I looked down at Sam who was still gazing intently down at the carpet. I stood there staring, waiting for him to speak.

"I just…need time." Sam whispered quietly, wiping discreetly at his eyes.

"I know buddy. I'm just worried, it has been a long time already…and I just don't want you to bury this all again." I mentioned in concern.

I had allowed Sam to get out of talking about his experience in hell back when he first remembered; partly because of his refusal to discuss it, but also because at the time his wall was broken and the kid's sanity had been on the rails. By the time my brother would have been able to talk about the cage, he had already buried all the memories deep inside himself and I didn't want to go poking at them, because he had seemed to be dealing okay.

Now was different, now all the memories were fresh and I wanted to get him talking before he had the chance to shove every one of them deep down inside. Because I knew what that was like. I knew the way those memories weighed on you and the way they ate at your soul when you didn't deal with them.

"We are going to talk about it, Sam." I announced with calm conviction, officially deciding that I was going to make him talk, even if I had to pry the words from his throat.

My brother's body went stiff as he stared at his feet.

"But not tonight kiddo. Another time, when you're feeling up to it." I assured gently, placing the hand that wasn't locked in my little brother's grip onto his bony, ridged shoulder.

Sam nodded without looking up. Understanding what I was saying.

"Tonight, you need to get some shuteye."

He looked up instantly and made to reject, but I continued.

"You have to try. Those trials have you messed up enough as it is. It'll only get worse if you don't get any sleep." I pointed out.

"I'm Fi—

"Cut the bullshit, kid. You may be the smart one, but I'm not a moron, and I'm not blind. I can tell that these trials are screwing with you, messing with your health. And we have no idea what is coming next. So you need all the rest you can get." I lectured.

"Rest isn't going to fix me Dean." Sam said with a long sigh.

"Well it sure as shit ain't going to do you any harm." I argued.

"Ha! Clearly." Sam laughed humourlessly. I was not impressed with his sarcasm and I let him know so with my expression.

"Come on buddy, just lie down." I ordered softly, pulling my wrist from my little brother's grip and gently pushing him into a horizontal position.

Before I could get him lying down, Sam was swatting at my hands.

"Knock it off." He demanded petulantly.

"No Sam, cut it out." I replied in frustration.

"Dean." He said louder, grabbing my forearms and staring up at me with those big puppy dog eyes.

"I can't do it again, I can't handle those dreams." He admitted, as a hard shiver ran through his body.

"You won't have to, buddy." I assured, letting him see the certainty in my face before bending down and lifting his long legs onto the bed.

"How do you know?" Sam asked uneasily.

"Just trust me, little brother." I said with a smile.

Sam smirked as he looked up at me curiously.

Once I had him lying comfortably I tugged the covers up around him, swiping his hair from his face.

"Dean, I'm not a child. You don't have to tuck me in." He whined.

"Shut-up, Sam." I quipped, walking over to my bed and grabbing the remote for the crappy TV in the corner and my pillow.

"Scoot over sasquatch." I ordered, dumping my pillow on the right side of the bed, closest to the door.

"No Dean you don't have to—

"Shut-up, Sam." I said, forcefully nudging the kid over as I dropped onto the bed.

Sam watched me get settled and then rolled his eyes.

"This is your plan? You think that you snoring in my ear all night is going to keep me from having nightmares?"

"Shut-up, Sam." I sighed, flipping on the television.

"Go back to your bed Dean, really I'm—

"Shut-up, Sam."

"You're getting a little repetitive." Sam huffed.

"Shut—

"I get it!" Sam interrupted in aggravation, switching his attention to the infomercial.

I smirked in amusement as I placed the remote on the rickety side table and laid back in the bed with my arms behind my head, lazily watching an advertisement for the latest vacuum.

It took longer than I thought it would, but by about ten minutes later Sam had slowly maneuvered himself directly by my side. Curled up so his forehead pressed against my hip as he distractedly picked at a hole in the knee of my sweatpants.

"Shut your eyes, Sammy." I requested softly.

"Can't…I'll be in…I'll be back there." Sam informed me in a haunted whisper, one that made my heart clench.

"No you won't, you'll be here with me." I reasoned confidently, combing my fingers through the mess of hair belonging to my kid brother, a strategy I had developed many years ago in order to comfort him.

Sam remained quiet and he continued to pick at my pants, but his movements slowed as I continued to drag my fingers through his brown locks.

Three infomercials later his breathing was even and his hands still, but he continued to force his eyes open, regardless of how frequently they drooped. I rolled my eyes at the stubbornness of my baby brother.

"Close your eyes, Sammy." I ordered softly.

"I'm scared. I don't want to go back there." Sam admitted, the catch in his throat had my protective instincts surging as I continued to comfort him the best way I could.

"You're not going anywhere, I got you little brother. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you, not even in your dreams." I vowed.

"You can't control my dreams, Dean." Sam pointed out sleepily.

"When are you going to learn kiddo? I'm your big brother, there's nothing I can't protect you from, nothing." I reminded him.

Looking down I felt content at the sight of the small dimply smile that crossed Sam's face.

"Now close your eyes and get some rest." I urged once again.

Sam released a long sigh, glancing over at me briefly before dropping his arm over my legs and reluctantly letting his eyelids fall closed.

"I got you, little brother." I whispered, watching Sam give in to his body's desire for sleep.

It was less than an hour later, during an advertisement for some dumbass cat toy, when the peaceful rest my little brother was enjoying began to alter.

At first I just thought he was shifting, he had always been a bit of a wiggler. His legs began to twitch against mine, and the arm he had draped across my knees began to move. It wasn't until his hand found a tight grip on my pant leg that I observed the young man more closely.

His face no longer held the peaceful look that had been on it when the kid drifted off. It was now wrinkled in pain and twisted in fear. His breathing was picking up, just a bit, but quickening nonetheless. His head was twitching around and I could feel his forehead pressing closer into the side of my hip.

The release of a small, nearly silent whimper was the last piece of evidence I needed to know that if I didn't do something now we would have a repeat performance of the same situation we had already experienced twice that night.

I shimmied further down the bed and slid an arm around my little brother, pulling him up against me. Sam went with it immediately, whatever was going on in his head was not yet strong enough to stem his instinctual physical reaction to my touch. I maneuvered him carefully, not wanting to wake him, knowing from past experience that it would be better to calm him in his sleep, stop the nightmare before it took control. I gently guided the shaggy head onto me, letting it rest against my collarbone, which was instantly followed by my little brother draping his arm across my chest, but his body was still rigid, still held by his mind.

As he lay against me I lightly rubbed circles on his back, hating how easy it was to feel his spine through his shirt. He had lost weight since the trials began.

Sam's tense body slowly started to relax at my touch and I felt his hand slide up my chest, gripping - for the second time that night - just below the neckline of my shirt.

"Never should have thrown that out. I fucked up, little brother." I cursed myself, knowing that my kid missed the amulet almost as much as I did.

"Dean." He breathed out, almost inaudibly, his face and body immediately going lax at the release of my name, his sleep again peaceful.

"I'm right here Sammy. I'm always going to be right here. I got you little brother." I promised, letting the murmur of the TV and the sound of my kid's breathing lull me to sleep.

Before I drifted off I thought of the conversation Sam and I had waiting for us, where I'd make him tell me about his time in the cage, I thought about the coming trials and the harm they could do to my little brother, but then I pushed all that from my mind.

Because none of it mattered right now.

Right now all that mattered was that my little brother was sleeping soundly.

Right now he was safe.

Right now we were together.

And the rest of the world could wait, because right now, we were okay.