Two days later- Washington DC.

Sam fiddled with a loose thread that came from the arm of his baggy hoodie as the midnight black Impala rumbled into the parking lot outside the large hospital. They drove around for a few minutes until they found a parking spot close enough to the front doors. Dean pulled to a steady stop before glancing across at his baby brother who was peering up at the large building while chewing his lip.

The young man turned to see Dean staring at him and blushed embarrassed, "You don't have to come…" He almost whispered into the silence that occupied the car.

Sam had refused to let Dean come in to many of his Chemotherapy sessions so far but now he was too weak to attend alone so needed his brother's help. Dean had gone along to only two or three and those were the days when Sam was too weak and exhausted which made him scared of collapsing.

"You don't want me to come?" Dean tried to remain impassive but it pained him to think that Sam didn't want him.

"No, I do. I do." He leapt to quickly correct him. He shivered as the constant cold caused goosebumps to erupt onto his flesh. He pulled himself further into what little heat his body was producing. Dean watched as his once massive brother seemed to shrink in size until he looked half the man he was.

"Okay then. You ready?" The elder asked hesitantly.

Sam nodded before pushing the door open with a loud huff that wasn't quite covered by the squeaking of the car door. He stepped onto the tarmac with weak legs that almost buckled beneath him so he lent against the car but tried to hide his slight shaking from his brother. He cursed his weakness and inability to keep down anything of substance.

He flashed a smile on his face when Dean looked over at him. He knew that it was a fake smile and he knew that his brother knew that it was a fake smile but he kept it in place nonetheless. He moved to be beside his brother and they began the walk up to the large building that was made mostly of glass. Dean slowed his usual pace to accommodate the sick man's lack of energy despite Sam's desperate attempts to keep up and act normal. The tall man strived to pretend that all is well and that he wasn't sick. The act was beginning to grate on Dean as his brother's performance meant that he could very rarely accurately assess the man's condition.

Sam tried to hide it as his breath became more laboured and he tried not to pant. Even the smallest activity was taking it out of him and it wasn't even one of his really bad days. The older man tried to slow the pace even more but Sam stubbornly refused to walk any other pace than 'normal'.

They eventually made it to the sliding doors of the hospital and Sam hesitated on the threshold almost glaring at the shiny floor on the other side. He really just wanted to be better. Erch, I hate hospitals, he groaned to himself.

Sam led the way up to the familiar ward as Dean was still slightly unsure of the direction. Nurses and doctors briefly smiled at them as the rushed passed in the corridors, none of which had time to stop. Dean watched the staff hurrying from one patient to the next like worker bees in an overcrowded hive. His eyes dashed around as the intense action moved all around him. He couldn't imagine the hospital being silent for even a minute as it seemed too far of a contrast to how it was usually. Sam on the other hand walked forward with his eyes set on the end of the corridor where the double doors where. He didn't spare a glance at the familiar faces or routines that were taking place around him. He walked forward with properties usually reserved for zombies or the living dead.

His usual hopefulness and cheer had seemed to be drained by the long corridors and shiny floors. He wasn't the Sam that Dean was used to or really wanted to see and if he was honest, seeing Sam like this scared him. The young Winchester almost clicked into place once entering the doors, his pale skin matching the stark white walls and his lifelessness akin to those lying in the hospital beds in the rooms near by. It was as if the ill man had switched to hospital mode.

Dean was pulled out of his thoughts by them reaching the grey doors which concealed their final destination. The younger of the men pushed the doors open with practiced ease before stepping inside to where a small reception desk stood in wait.

"Morning, Sam!" Sam offered up a weak smile to the male nurse. He wasn't ready to admit that the long trek from the car had really taken it's toll. He muttered curses at his body's failure to do it's job.

"Hey, Pete. 9am appointment." Sam tried to force normality on himself. He could sense his brother shifting behind him awkwardly.

The male nurse handed over the sign in sheet, "The same as always. Oh and your guest will have to sign in to."

"Of course" Sam smiled before signing the paper and getting Dean to do the same.

"How've you been?" Pete asked with a concerned crease forming in his brow as he accepted back the paper.

"Feeling the side effects but mostly great, thanks." Sam answered quickly before walking over towards the large room that had comfy looking chairs lining the walls. In total there was about 20 spaces in the room and each had a stool next to it for a friend or family member. This made Dean think of all the times Sam had come up alone and had to sit without someone beside him unlike almost every other person one bar one or two. Guilt sank in his stomach. He should have insisted on accompanying his brother instead of waiting in the car.

Most of the people in the Chemotherapy clinic were much older than Sam. It made something knot itself in Dean's stomach as it felt like Sam was being cheated by getting the disease so young. At least the other people here have had half a life, he ranted to himself angrily.

The thin man lowered himself down into one of the pale chairs which Dean assumed was his usual seat. The nurse signalled to him that she'd be one minute before coming over to help as she was seeing to an elderly gentleman. Dean sighed impatient but Sam sat stock still as though he was terrified.

The silence stretched out between the two brothers as both sat wrapped in their own thoughts. The younger chewed at his lip as he sat waiting while thoughts raced through his head. Dean, on the other hand, was carefully studying his brother. He watched as Sam's chest rose and fell slowly in time with his shallow breathing. He stared at his baby brother's bald head and tears threatened to jump down his cheeks but Dean kept them firmly in check, not allowing even one to fall. He had never allowed himself to cry in front of Sam about this, after all, it was his job to be brave and supportive but he had cried almost every night since finding out about it.

"The side effects are the worst part." Sam whispered to so quietly that his brother had to question whether the words were actually meant for him or not.

"What'cha mean, Sammy?" Dean's voice was just as hushed as though he was sharing a secret.

The ill man breathed deeply but remained silent for so long that Dean was sure that he'd get no answer, "Being sick, the dizziness, losing my hair and appetite. It's because of the Chemotherapy."

Dying isn't too great either though, Sam added silently.

Dean nodded even though Sam wasn't looking at him.

The area around the boys lapsed back into silence as they both took in what Sam had said. Dean thought it over before reaching out to hold his brother's cold hand. He opened his mouth to speak when the nurse came to pierce the needle under his baby brother's skin and into a vein. He watched as the drugs began to slowly flow into Sam's weak and thin form. His words seemed meaningless now so he let them die as nothing more than a thought.

A week later- Washington DC.

The cold night air nipped at Sam's rosy cheeks. He was thoroughly wrapped up in layers of warm clothes but he could still feel the cold. He desperately tried to ignore it as he just wanted to be fine for a while. He had grown tired of being sick a long time ago and now his patience with the cancer that was riddling his body was wearing extremely thin.

He cradled the beer in his cold hands as he lent back against the windscreen of the Impala. The advice leaflet had advised limiting alcohol consumption which was the opposite of what Sam wanted to do under the circumstances. He sipped the rich liquid as though he was drinking liquid gold and each slip cost him thousands. He wanted to savour what little he was allowed.

The Impala was parked off a side road which was quiet and surrounded by trees. They had driven so far that Sam wasn't even sure that they were still in Washington anymore. Sam hadn't seen a person in the three hours that he had been sat there but he wasn't surprised seeing as it was well gone midnight.

Dean was lying beside him in his familiar worn leather jacket, smelling of gunpowder and whiskey, with his arms folded behind his head. He had his green eyes closed and the way the worry creases had disappeared made Sam think that the elder had fallen asleep. He listened to Dean's soft breathing as he gazed up at the stars.

The stars twinkled like Christmas lights in the midnight sky. Sam took in his fill of the awe inspiring beauty of it because he knew it wouldn't last. The hunter studied the burning balls of gas that were to small to inspect as names of constellations floated around his head. His eyes flowed from one familiar pattern in the dark sky to the next. He wished that he knew the name of every star so he could place them by name amongst it's many siblings. He wished he'd spent more time doing this. Just looking up and appreciating the magnitude of beauty that he'd only acknowledged a handful of times in his whole life that was just above his head.

He could almost feel his time running out in everything around him but yet everything seemed so new to him as he paid it the attention it deserved for the first time. The wind seemed fresh against his cold skin as it whispered against his flesh, chilling him even further. The trees were teased by the wind as it raced past ruffling it's leaves, dislodging a few of the green leafy family members. He'd never paid any interest into the simple things that had always seemed to be there but now they were the most important things on planet Earth. Sam realised that he loved the hallowing wind as it played with the rustling leaves and the stars as they got lost amongst the vast inkiness of the night.

The sound of Dean's gentle breathing accompanied his thoughts making everything seem so alive.

"I don't wanna die, Dean." Sam whispered into the wind as it carried his voice away. "I really don't want to die like this. It's not the way I expected to go."

Nothing answered him but he didn't expect or even want an answer, "I obviously knew that I was going to die, everything does. I just had something supernatural pegged at the reason why… To die in battle, I suppose."

The stars continued twinkling oblivious to Sam, sitting on the hood of his brother's Impala, releasing his fears for the first time into the cold air, billions of miles beneath them. The wind chilled the trail of water on Sam's cheek that was left from a heavy tear.

"I can't fight it. I can't rage a war against myself… Against my own body. I can take on vampires and poltergeists, witches and vengeful spirits but not this- this cancer. It's poisoning my body and I can't stop it." He spat out the name of his disease through his teeth.

Minutes passed as Sam slowed his breathing as he tried to stop the tears, "I don't want to die."

Dean tried not to shift as he waited for his brother to continue talking. He wasn't disappointed when the young man chose to stay silent instead. He kept his breathing shallow and even as he carefully listened to his brother's whispered words. He wished that the freakin' wind would die down so he could let Sam's softly spoken words wrap around him.

Three weeks later- Lawrence, Kansas.

Dean's dark work boots sunk into the thick mud that was desperately trying to pass as grass. The heavy rainfall had ruined the grass making it nothing more than practically a marshland. He trod across the waterlogged land as fat raindrops still fell from the sky every now and again. Dean looked up at the dark grey clouds above him and was thankful that it was finally starting to lighten up. He walked along the same path as he had for the last two weeks and it was already engraved into his mind. His weary brain didn't waste energy on taking in his surroundings like he did first, second and even third time that he walked this way. He found that those details didn't really matter to him anymore.

He automatically stopped before he had even realised that he had arrived. His eyes played with the horizon of a line of trees while he could feel emotion lodging itself in his throat. A heavy raindrop landed on his cheek making him suddenly flinch. Another drop of water fell from somewhere above him but this time it missed him. His gaze followed it as it plummeted towards the ground dragged by the cruel gravity which always seemed to be trying to force us down into our graves prematurely.

The drop continued falling, despite having Dean as an audience, until it crashed onto the small black plaque that lay about a foot away from Dean's boots. The ashes of his baby brother lay fresh in the ground beneath the dark slate. The man swallowed as his eyes misted over making it impossible for the hunter to read the inscription, not that he needed to read it. He had chosen it and the amount of times that he had read it meant that it was burnt permanently into his grey cells. The gold lettering was blurred by unshed tears that were threatening to spill over. Not that he could stopped them even if he wanted to.

"I wish I could have saved you, Sammy."

Sam Winchester

Loyal, Brave and Honest. Until we meet again.

5.2.83 - 4.28.08