Author's Note: Another plot bunny. Really have no idea where this came from. Trigger Warning: Low self-esteem (negative self-image) and mentions of suicidal ideation. If that bothers you, please do not read! Spoilers through 11x17. Please enjoy!

"Who will love you?

Who will fight?

And who will fall far behind?"

—Birdy, "Skinny Love"

I'd die for you.

Sam detests that phrase.

In movies and books, the hero will often turn to his lover, take her hand within his and swear to her that he would die before letting harm come to her. It's supposed to be a very tender, romantic, wonderful moment that will make everyone swoon. But Sam knows the reality. Death isn't beautiful—it's brutal. When someone dies, that's it. There are no second chances. There are no graceful exits. Death is ugly and unfair and cruel.

Sam would know, after all, he's watched people die before him his whole life.

Why is it, in his family, people feel compelled to make sacrifices? He's watched his brother be torn apart by hellhounds in front of him. He was there, staring at Dean's lifeless eyes, at his bloody, broken body and he had been the one to pick up the pieces. He'd cried for days and somehow shoved that grief down and forced himself to bury his brother, to clean the room like nothing had ever happened and then—

Well, he almost killed himself.

It isn't just Dean's choice to sacrifice his life that bothers Sam. He's watched Dean suffer too. In the days that followed making his deal—and you know, bringing Sam back from the dead at the expense of his own life—there was this haunted look in his brother's gaze. One moment, Dean would be his jovial self and the next, he'd be gone, replaced by a man scared shitless by everything around him.

Dean wasn't the strong, confident older brother. He wasn't the guy who could, with a wave of his hand, make Sam's problems vanish. No, in those moments, he was just a man waiting for that fateful moment when he'd be torn apart and forcibly dragged to Hell.

That day came and it passed, all in a blur for the youngest Winchester. Life lost its purpose when Dean was gone. Sam wanted to die. Logically, he should've been dead already, but he wouldn't let Dean's sacrifice be in vain. So, he existed, but he didn't really live.

Then, Dean died and was tortured, torn apart and forcibly put back together and for what? For his brother's life to be spared? Is Sam's life really that important that Dean would throw everything away to try and bring his baby brother back to life?

Dean had said yes, of course.

Sam still didn't buy it. He wasn't that important. He didn't deserve that kind of devotion—he didn't want it. If he died tomorrow, he'd want to know that Dean was out there somewhere, living his life. He's pictured Dean so many times, sitting in the driver's seat of the Impala, blasting Metallica and speeding down dirt highways. That's how Sam wants him to stay, long after he's ash on the ground.

I'd die for you.

Years have passed since that dirt road in Cold Oak. The wound on his back doesn't ache with phantom pain anymore. Cold Oak was another lifetime ago—literally, he supposes in both their cases—but their lives really have changed so much since then. The people they used to know, the family they had—their all long gone now, replaced by an angel that won't give up on them and a car that never seems to stay down for long.

The memories though, they sting like acid.

Bobby's journals and old notes taunt him from their place in the library of the bunker. His handwriting is so familiar and Sam will trace every line of it some days, when the grief wells up. He can still hear their surrogate father's gruff voice in his ear, cursing him one minute and cheering him on in the next.

There's the picture of Team Free Will by Dean's dresser. Every time Sam passes it, he can't believe how young Jo looks, how powerful Ellen is. They were the last ties they had to their father. Ellen used to tell them stories of John's antics and Jo would interject whenever she felt her mom was embellishing. Those girls could laugh and in those darkest moments, they'd made Bobby's house feel more like a home.

Charlie's monthly updates are in his inbox, filed away under a tab labeled "Queen". In them, she details the daily shenanigans that happen while she was Queen of Moondor. There are attachments too—pictures of her beaming at the camera, wearing new costumes or making silly poses to entertain them. And at the end of each email, she'd write, "I miss you guys." She's dead now—she died for them, died because of his mistake—and he wonders if she regretted it in the end. Did she die cursing their names? Did she really love them that much to sacrifice herself?

He'll never know.

If Sam thinks about it—really thinks about it—they've lost everyone who's ever gotten close to them. And, if the youngest Winchester continues to contemplate it, he's lost more even more. Jessica, Madison, Sarah—beautiful, loving girls who made the mistake of getting to close to him. They hadn't deserved death. They were supposed to live their lives, pursue their dreams and yet, they'd all ended up the same way—dead, with their lifeless eyes staring at Sam Winchester. They'd loved him and it killed them.

I'd die for you, Sammy.

Some days, it's hard to keep going. The guilt is still with him and sometimes, it consumes him. But he keeps fighting because he knows that's what they would've wanted. They had placed their faith in him to keep going and if he stops, he'll fail them once more. He couldn't protect any of them. He won't dishonor their memory by disregarding their last wishes.

So, he hunts and researches and tries to handle the grief. Some days, it's manageable. Others, not so much. But he keeps trying because that's what they wanted for him. Time doesn't heal all wounds. It numbs the pain, perhaps, but the scars on his heart and psyche will be with him forever.

And yet, despite all that, Dean still continues to try and protect his baby brother. He takes point on hunts, places himself between Sam and whatever creature their hunting and rushes into danger. His brother is protecting him, just like's always done, just like he'll always do and you know what? It terrifies Sam. Because, if he lost Dean, he doesn't know if he'll be able to keep going.

He would die for Dean. And yes, the youngest Winchester is aware how hypocritical it is, but in this scenario, dying is the easier part. Being left behind is difficult. Being the one to salt and burn the body and learning how to keep going when you secretly wish that every time you close your eyes they won't open in the morning is challenging. He'd choose being stabbed a thousand times and slowly bleeding death than waking up one morning to find Dean gone for good. Maybe that's fucked up, but for the Winchesters, it's just their life.

I'd die for you, Sammy.

And maybe that's where Dean's head was when he overdosed on those drugs. Though Sam wants to get mad and scream at his brother about how foolish he was until his voice is hoarse, he won't. Because if their roles had been reversed, Sam would've made the same choice. He would do anything to keep his big brother safe. He'd damn the world, throw open Lucifer's cage, do whatever he had to keep Dean's heart's beating. Sam's lost too much to lose anymore. He'd rather be in the Apocalypse with Dean than in Paradise without him.

Sam doesn't deserve Dean's sacrifices. He's never asked his brother to protect him. He's the Boy King, the guy who started the Apocalypse, and he's responsible for the deaths of who knows how many innocent bystanders because of that. He's not worth Dean's life.

And yet . . .

I'd die for you, Sammy.

"Sam?"

Dean's standing in the doorway of Sam's bedroom, his eyes scanning his little brother's form for the cause of the distress emanating from the youngest Winchester's frame, "You okay?"

There are so many possible answers, ranging from half-truths to straight out lies to brutal honesty. Sam settles for a good standby, "I'm fine."

Dean scoffs, "Right." He comes and sits next to him on the bed, the mattress dipping slightly with the addition of his weight.

"When you took those pills," Sam starts cautiously, unsure if he really needs to know the answer, "What . . . I mean, why—?"

"What was my plan?" Dean ventures.

Sam nods, "Yeah."

"It doesn't matter now though—" His brother tries to dismiss.

"Please." Sam whispers.

There's a beat of silence before Dean nods. His brother's voice is unusually soft as he says, "The plan was to trade my life for yours. If that didn't work, I'd have followed you."

I'd die for you.

Sam already knew that, but hearing it out loud still drives a knife through his heart.

"I don't want you to die." Sam mutters, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm his erratically beating heart. "If I died, you should live."

Dean grimaces, "It's not that simple and you know that, Sam."

"Even so—"

"Sam." His brother places a hand on his shoulder and the youngest Winchester meets his gaze. "I just . . . I couldn't do it. Without you, I . . ." He gestures vaguely to the room, but Sam gets it.

Without each other, they're nothing.

Dean grins, his expression quickly brightening, "Hey, you want to go out tonight? We could get some burgers."

Sam nods and Dean quickly leaves to go get the car keys.

He's not worth Dean's life. No one should've ever died to protect him or help him try to fix mistakes. But when he looks at Dean, he feels strong enough to keep living. One day, he'll be able to make amends for everyone they've lost.

I'd die for you, Sammy.

As for Dean? Well, Sam would just need to stay alive. Then, his brother would have to too.

"Sam! You coming?"

It's not perfect and their lives are far from normal, but for today, it has to be okay.

"I'll be right there!"

And when his bedroom door closes behind him, he lets some of the grief and guilt stay locked in the room too.

Author's Note: So, this spiraled out of my control as the muse took over completely. I really loved how it turned out, even though it was pretty heavy subject matter. Please review if you have a moment. I'd love to know what you all thought. Thanks!