Aftermath.

A little idea I couldn't shake off after the thrilling end to season 2.

Rated: T

Summary: Set 2 weeks after AHBL part 2. Can Sam save Dean from killing himself before he goes to hell? Sam angst, Dean angst, Bad John, Bobby Singer and the pain just goes on. Love and Huggles to all.

I hope it doesn't ramble too much and it makes sense. I don't have a beta reader yet so all my mistakes are my own. I don't own Supernatural, Boo Hoo (sobs). Oh, and I didn't mean the ending to go all Good Will Hunting, I only realized that afterwards!!!

Enjoy and review please!!!

"Hey Bobby" called Sam as he pushed through the grimy screen door into the junk man's darkened hall.

"Hey boys. Back already?" Bobby responded from the lounge, tilting back in his chair to see the boys wander in across the salt line. It still disconcerted him to see Sam walking around after he'd cradled his dead body just 2 weeks before. "Thought you'd be days tracking that Black Dog."

"Naw, we caught a break. It jumped us and we were able to waste it, no bother!" Dean mimicked slicing its head off with a sword for emphasis. He turned to Sam grinning and raised his hand "Hi five, we rocked that son of a bitch!"

Sam responded by sharply smacking Dean's hand away a little too hard. Ignoring Dean's yelp and mock pain as he nursed his hand, Sam sighed with exasperation " Yeah, we got him, just. You exposed yourself way too early! It nearly gutted you like a fish! retorted Sam. He'd been fuming ever since the near miss.

"Oh, don't be perverse, I knew you were there backing me up. Anyway, you won't be there the next time I expose myself" Dean grinned in anticipation at getting laid with some hot chick since this hunt was over.

"God, I hope not!" joked Sam, rolling his eyes at the thought of walking in on Dean getting some action. Awkward!! He let his sigh take some of the anger away with it.

Dean sniffed the air. "I smell food."

"Trust him" humphed Sam and threw himself into a huge easy boy recliner. He ached all over, that last hunt had been too close for comfort.

"Is that homemade cookies I smell? Bobby, you holding out on us?" Dean called back as he wandered towards the kitchen to explore.

"No.. no you don't, Dean. Ellen made them specially-"

"Mme, these are good. Didn't know Ellen cooked too" Dean spoke with his mouth full as he finished one cookie and started crunching on another. He sauntered back the clutter filled living room and leaned against the door frame.

"For Rufus" Bobby finished lamely. Too late. "They got special low fat dog food in 'em. They're part of his new weight loss regime." He confided conspiratorially to Sam, "Ellen says I feed him too much."

"Oh," Dean paused mid crunch, studied the cookie for a second, shrugged and carried on eating.

The afore mentioned subject of conversation approached from his own room in the back. Heavy paws thumped on the wooden floor as a giant black Rottie bounded in, tail working furiously. He barked once for effect and launched all 120 lbs of himself at Sam, who was actually sitting is his chair. Licking Sam's face in greeting he left a trail of drool as a present. Spying the cookie monster he launched himself at Dean too.

"Thanks for that Rufus" called Sam as he wiped the drool on a cushion and turned it over so no one would see it."

Rufus climbed up Dean, paws digging into his shoulders and glared at him. Sensing defeat, Dean relented and surrendered the remaining cookie. It was gone with just a drip of drool to mark its passing. Suitably pleased with the morsel he released Dean, and wandered outside to do his rounds of the junkyard.

"Where is Ellen anyway? She decided what she's gonna do?" Dean inquired as he raided the fridge for something else to munch. He noticed it was chock full of food for a change and selected a large red apple from it.

Bobby turned and nervously started rearranging some of the piles of books which littered the room into another pile. If Sam didn't know any better, he thought Bobby looked embarrassed.

"Oh... she's around. Probably cleaning the yard somewheres."

Sam glanced at Dean, cocked an eyebrow questioningly. Dean smiled as light dawned. It would be sweet if Bobby and Ellen had a thing going. They were good people who'd been alone for a long time. They deserved something back for all their years hunting evil.

"She'll keep you on your toes that's for sure" smiled Sam knowingly. Bobby's face actually started to go red as he looked at each brother in turn.

"That's great Bobby!"Dean clapped him on the back affectionately. The grizzled junk man had a soft heart under a hard exterior, made harder by years of hunting evil.

Bobby found himself grinning. He was surprised to find himself pleased that the boys knew and were OK with the situation. He knew he was still finding it a little weird. "Thought I'd throw my hat in the ring one more time you know, before its too late."

"We're pleased for you, ain't we Sam? Hope it all works out. Place could do with a woman's touch, ya know?" Dean gestured at the tatty stained curtains and threadbare carpet.

"Well we ain't getting married or nothin', just takin' things slow, see how we go." Bobby's craggy face softened when he thought of her. "She's still hurtin' you know? The Roadhouse was everything she had with Bill. Now its gone...she's a little lost is all," he paused as he thought about that."Plus she's grieving for Ash, and Jo's still not called her," he continued softly. He was silent. They didn't even know if Jo was alive or dead. The boys nodded. They'd all known too much hurt lately.

"Anyways, we could sure use your boys help around the place. We're tidying the yard and the house. I forgot how women like to run things" Bobby grumbling tone was still affectionate. Demon activity was quiet across the country, they could spare the time he reasoned.

"Bull. You probably love a strong woman keeping you in line," countered Dean as he winked at Sam. He smiled and chuckled back, "No problem Bobby, we got nothing cooking just now." His brother agreed with an imperceptible nod. "What do ya say? Free digs and food for hard labour? Dean asked hopefully, they were totally exhausted and strapped for cash, he and Sam both needed a break but neither would admit it to the other.

"Dean, you couldn't work enough hours in the day to pay for all the food you eat" replied Bobby dryly. He thought for a second. He knew they would need cash too but would never take any from him;Winchester pride wouldn't stand for handouts. "OK its a deal, plus any cars you get running and sell you can keep the cash on too, OK? Bobby continued before they could refuse, "come on, Ellen'll be glad to see you boys back safe." He clapped each brother's shoulder with easy affection as they filed out into the sun baked yard.

OoooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo

Later the next day, Sam played chess with Bobby out on the front porch. Bobby had the upper hand but Sam was trying a new angle of attack. Dean and Ellen had turned in early. They had grafted hard all afternoon dividing scrap into copper, lead and aluminum for recycling. Dean found a '72 Mustang in the back which he thought he could fix up and sell for a good price, and he'd spent the rest of the day scrounging for parts for it. They'd then sat down to a huge feed of homemade soup, stew and roast potatoes and finished with hot apple pie, which Bobby had rustled up in no time. It was the best meal the boys had eaten for months, and the company made it all the sweeter. Dean went off to sleep like a contented child; well fed, warm and happy to be back in the house he had stayed in many times before. It felt like a home should be. Ellen had even chided him for trying to take another Rufas Cookie and Sam had laughed his head off at Dean's sulky face.

"I reckon I got you on the run" remarked Bobby nonchalantly.

"I'm thinking" countered Sam. He had been for the last 20 minutes but not about the game in front of him.

"Did you know he was going to do it?" Sam looked up into Bobby's eyes, probing them for the truth of his answer. Bobby knew Dean's deal with the Demon would come up. He'd even debated bringing it up himself but he wasn't sure if the boys were ready to talk yet. They'd looked haggard and drawn when they arrived. They'd both lost weight and still carried the wounds of recent events on their battered bodies and in their haunted eyes. Bobby was glad they had come. There was a long hard road ahead and they needed to rest, and to heal. They could do that here, away from the prying eyes of other hunters or the authorities, safe at least for a little while.

"No. I would have stopped him, if I'd thought..." he trailed off. "He wanted to be alone, after" he paused, unable to say the words.

"After I died?" Pause. "How long was I dead for?"

God what a question to ask, thought Bobby. It was just typical of Sam, he always had to know the truth, even when he was little. John had found it infuriating, but Bobby knew it was the sign of a sharp mind, and he liked to indulge Sammy's curiosity most of the time.

"Around 12 hours, I reckon. I don't know how long he waited after I left, before going to find the crossroads"

Sam shook his head in disbelief. It was incredible. Even with all the things they'd seen and done, coming back from the dead as he and Dean both had, was still something he struggled to get his head around.

"What was it like? Do you remember any of it? Bobby asked softly.

"No, nothing. Nothing at all...I felt the knife, like a hot white pain and I remember Dean shouting and then. Nothing. I woke up on the bed with a sore back and a new scar, and Dean came back a little later." They were silent as they pondered what it might mean.

"Mind you, Dean said the same thing after Dad's deal" Sam was back to business, analytical mind working again. "I talked to him via a Ouija board and he said he was hunting a Reaper in the hospital. After he woke up he didn't remember anything. But he was only dead for a few minutes until the doctors resuscitated him, and I felt his presence before and after that, so maybe its not the same kinda thing. I don't know anymore, it screws with your mind just thinking about it."

"You're telling me? I damn near had a heart attack when you walked in here last time," Bobby struggled to comprehend it too. It was disturbing to hear Sam talk about himself and Dean dying in such a cool and normal fashion. Something struck Bobby then. "Do you feel any different?"

"Huh.."Sam thought it over some, it sure was a time for thinking about things. "No, I just feel exactly the same."

"What about your powers? Have you had any visions, since?" Now Bobby looked him in the eye, gauging the truth in his answer.

"No, I haven't, thank God. Maybe they died with that yellow eyed son of a bitch." The two sat in comfortable silence for a bit. Sam wondered how to steer the conversation back to what he really wanted to talk about. It was easier to talk about Dean than his own fears and doubts.

"Have you figured a way out of the deal for Dean? Sam decided being direct might be best.

"I been looking, ever since your Dad's deal. But no, I haven't even got close to an answer for getting out of this mess." Bobby shook his head again, it really was one hell of a mess. "I just never figured on Dean bein' that desperate you know?" There was an angry tone Sam hadn't heard before in Bobby's voice. "I've known loss, hell my sister died from a clot on the brain, but I never considered bringing her back! You just don't mess with that side of things! He stopped suddenly, realizing that he was actually saying Sam should still be dead. But Sam just shook his head as he leaned back in the wicker chair.

"I know what you're saying Bobby it's OK, really. The Winchesters have screwed up the cosmic balance so much, I hardly know whats what any more. I don't even know if it matters really. Saving Dean is the only thing that matters to me now, there's gotta be a way. I've got a year to find one."

"I don't think you've got that long to save him, Sammy." Sam frowned at him, puzzled. "You said it yourself, that Black Dog nearly killed him. He's reckless and taking risks he never would have before. He's had a death wish ever since your Daddy died, you must see that right?

Sam did but had never been able to admit it until now. "I know," he sniffed suddenly and gulped down the growing lump in his throat when he thought about the reasons why. "It was just the way Dad raised us you know? His voice grew husky at the thought of his Dad.

"He kept Dean on such a short leash his whole life, Dean just doesn't know how to live without him. His word was law, ya know? He's clinging onto me, and, I guess, when I died, he just couldn't handle it." Tears burned and rolled down his face at the thought. "He's so broken inside Bobby, how can I fix him? How am I ever going to fix this?"

He wiped his face on his sleeve and tried not to sob in front of his Dad's old friend.

It smote Bobby's heart to see Sam's pain for his brother's tortured soul. He knew Sam's words were true. He also knew there was nothing he could do to take away that pain. His eyes welled with tears at the injustice of all. They were good boys, why did they have to have such screwed up lives?

He lifted Sam's tear stained face to meet his own and held Sam's shaking hand in his steady one.

"I don't have the answers Sammy. But I do know this much. You're gonna have to talk to Dean about this. You have to. You have to save Dean's soul now, before you can save Dean from the Demon. Do you understand? Otherwise, it's already too late."

Sam nodded. He knew this already, but hearing Bobby spell it out, he knew he couldn't deny it any longer. He would face this head on and hope they survived the aftermath.

OooooooooooooooooOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooo

"Dude," Sam paused "I gotta talk to you, pull over."

The impala's deep throated rumble cut off sharply as Dean pulled off the back road and cranked the ignition. He snapped off the lights harder than necessary. Smothering a sigh, Dean pursed his lips and frowned at his brother.

"What?" he barked. He so could not deal with any more touchy feely crap from Sam right now, he just wanted to get back to Bobby's and sleep. Hustling the pool hall hadn't gone well and he was pissed and sporting a black eye for his trouble.

Sam paused. He was clearly perplexed about something but Dean wasn't in the mood to help him out by asking. They waited in tense silence. Sam shifted in the leather seat till it creaked under his 6 '5' frame and worked his hands nervously on his frayed jeans.

He turned, hugging his knee to his chest as if to draw strength from it.

"Dean," he paused, steeled himself, "you told me once a while back, that you were scared of the things you would do to protect me."

"Yeah, so what?" shot back Dean, a little belligerently. He tried to look disinterested but he was actually holding his breath, dreading where this was going.

"Well, Dean, you're scaring me now with all this 'gung ho I'll sacrifice myself 'crap you've been pulling lately! I can't spend the next year worrying about how you're going to kill yourself trying to save everybody, including me!" He hadn't meant to shout.

A flinch ran across Dean's face as he stared out the window at the desert sands. His jaw clenched and Sam saw a muscle jump, and he knew he'd hurt him.

Recent events had pierced their hearts to their very souls. Sometimes Sam laid awake and his brothers steady breathing in the next bed was the only thing that stopped him from hightailing it off into oblivion. Reapers, Demons, the Gates of Hell, Dad's Ghost, Dying- where would it end?

"I don't know why Dean, but you seem to think your life isn't worth the same as everybody else's," Sam continued, soft now as he reached out a comforting hand to his brother's shoulder, "and it simply isn't true" he pressed. Dean was rigid in the seat, like he was so mad he couldn't even talk.

"You been talking to Bobby?!" He shot back, roughly shrugged off Sam's touch and nearly yanked off the door handle as he dived outside.

Sam flinched as the door slammed shut. Well hell, it's now or never, I guess, thought Sam as he too climbed out onto the desert sand. Dean had stalked off a bit, hands rammed in jeans and hunched up a little. Sam had never seen his brother so alone, so distant that he couldn't reach him. He walked up a little ways and waited.

"Bobby ever tell you what happened after you left for Stanford?" A half smile escaped as Dean cocked an eyebrow and glanced at Sam before staring back out at the desert. It hurt to look at Sam just now. He'd been chipping away at Dean's armor, and now Dean felt like his last reserves of strength were slipping away.

"Uhh...Ahh...No, he didn't," Sam wondered at the sudden change of direction. It was Dean's usual tactic to evade revealing the truth of how he was feeling. Sensing it might lead somewhere though, Sam decided to wait and let him talk, God knows he needed to.

"After you left, when Dad came back and found all your stuff gone, your gun, everything...He-" Dean's voice broke. "He really lost it, you know?" His throat ached at the memory and burned with the words he knew were still to come. Tears welled in his haunted eyes.

Sam stared at him. He tried to work out where this was going but couldn't. It hurt to see his strong big brother so tore up at the memory of their Dad. He waited in silence for him to carry on.

"I'd come back earlier see? After that fight you too had. I saw all you stuff was gone and I knew you meant it this time, that you were gone and you weren't coming back." He clenched his teeth to stop the threatened tears from falling. "I heard him come in then, so I hid out back, 'cos I was so mad at you and him. I hid there while he trashed the place. I've never seen him so mad. I was 22 years old and I was scared of my own Dad." He paused and wiped a traitorous tear from his face. "I stayed there 'til he bugged out. I knew he'd hunt up a bar for a while." He nodded and stared at his battered boots. They were an old pair of his father's. He couldn't meet his brother's eyes now.

"What? Sam tried again. "What does this...?" He shrugged, misunderstanding.

"Anyways... I cleaned up the mess, as usual." Pause. "I found your Mickey Mouse T shirt. It still smelled of you. I didn't wash that for months." A wry smile escaped, with a bitter edge. A deep breath as he tried to still the pounding in his chest. "I got a call a couple days later from a bartender across town. He'd got Dad's phone and called the last number. Told me to come get him before he called the cops. He'd been on a bender and they'd had enough." Paused "So I took the impala and went to get him. But..." He forced another deep breath into his aching chest. "You know what Dad was like? He wasn't finished his drink and he sure as hell wasn't ready to come home with me." Dean gulped and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "He damn near knocked the teeth right out my head that night."

"He hit you!?" Sam asked, stunned and horrified at the revelation. Dad had never hit either of them. Ever. He didn't need to, the very tone of his voice was enough to strike fear into both their hearts. Sam shook his head, he could hardly believe what he was hearing, but Dean's tortured soul was there for all to see. He'd never known Dad to drink like that. Beers through the day sure and the odd Jack Daniels after a hunt, but never a full on bender. What else didn't he know about his own family?

"Oh, he was just getting started." Dean continued. "He railed on me then, got down to the truth of the matter real well." God there was more. Sam swallowed the sickness building in his stomach.

"He-" Dean tried again, cleared his throat as it tried to close. "You spineless stupid bastard!" Dean shouted suddenly as the words spilled out in an echo of his father's voice from that night " Why didn't you stop him, huh? You should have stopped him Dean, that's your goddamn job! How the hell we gonna protect him 2000 miles away, huh? Answer me damn it!"

The viciousness of the words stung Sam like a whip, just as they had stung Dean back then. Hurt and pain mingled with growing rage at what John had done to his devoted brother. "I didn't know..." Sam faltered, unsure of the words to make it right.

"Well all that happened before the bartender knocked him out with a baseball bat." Dean finished quickly, as if that would end the pain sooner. He sniffed and scrubbed his eyes with his hands in a vain attempt to dry them up. "He was just drunk ya know? He was just so mad at you, it was the booze talking, don't matter." Dean defended his Dad always, even though he had no reason to now. Samuel was stunned into shocked silence. It obviously did matter.

"Anyway, I got him bundled into the impala and home OK." Sam didn't know if he wanted to hear anymore. His heart ached and he almost wished he'd never opened this can of worms on the past.

"He started to come round as I was putting him to bed and he-" Dean's voice shook now, " ...he started to cry, Sam." He looked up for the first time into his brother's eyes to find strength in him. "He said he was sorry for beating on me, sorry for chasing you away, sorry for Mom..." Dean trailed off as the tears continued to roll silently down his cheeks at the memory of his father breaking down.

Time felt like it stopped. Dean didn't say anything. He didn't move. He didn't look at Sam. Sam turned to him, closer now. Tried to speak, but couldn't. He looked at Dean's tear stained face. There was something about him holding onto that pain for all these years that really made Sam sad.

"He made me promise that night, not to leave him," Dean said suddenly, then "guess he forgot all about that promise when he took off after the Demon," he sighed in resignation.

"God, Dean! How come you never told me that before!?" Closer now, almost touching. Silence.

"We went straight to Bobby's after," Dean continued dryly, "Dad found a truck he needed fixed up. You should have seen Bobby's face, he knew stuff had gone down. He stitched my face up real good though. I don't know if Dad told him, but I sure as hell didn't." The guilt and shame of his repeated failures was too much to bear, even now.

"It didn't matter that you were the favourite, hell you were my favourite too, you know that?" Wry smile sneaked out between the tracks of tears. "You 're always so smart. You weren't afraid to stand up to him and you always had an answer for him. It made me real proud to be your big brother." Love for his brother made these words come easily. It was the words to come that would be hard.

"Anyway,... Dad and Bobby fixed up the truck, and Dad handed me the keys to the impala. Said I'd earned them. It was like he was opening the door for me to go, to leave too. But I couldn't, 'cos I'd promised. And I wasn't as strong as you Sam." His voice cracked.

"We never spoke about it again, and I fell in line like a good little soldier." Dean snorted, disgusted with himself.

"I thought that was the worst day of my life, back then, but I was wrong. When that bastard stabbed you Sam, I couldn't stop him... I couldn't save you!" Dean's guilt was palpable, and his anguished sob broke Sam's heart. He reached for him the only way he knew how and gently, slowly drew Dean to him. He slid his long arms around his brothers back and held him tight as the guilty sobs racked him. He'd often wondered why Dean had stayed behind, always deferred to Dad, never arguing back and putting up with all Dad's Marine crap. Now he knew. John had split open Dean's soul that night and stomped all over it. He had burst open the crack in Dean's armor, and Dean had been trying to hide and repair it ever since the only way he knew how, by sacrificing his own life for Sam's.

Samuel bit down on the anger as it threatened to consume him. How could Dad do that? It was just so like him to put all his pain and suffering onto the son who adored him. I gotta fix this, he thought, Dad might be dead but Dean's guilt and pain was very much alive and consuming him even now. Dean was crying now, not making any noise, but crying all the same.

"I'm so sorry, Dean" Sam whispered softly.

"Don't you be sorry Sam! You got nothing to be sorry for!" Dean roared "Don't you dare feel sorry for being free, for choosing a good life over all this evil!" Enraged, Dean shoved Sam away from him. "Don't you ever feel sorry for being ALIVE! You got nothing to be sorry for!" He shouted as he backed away from his brother, unable to make him understand.

"But neither have you, Dean" Sam countered softly, but with conviction in his eyes. His tone cut through Dean's anger like a sword. Pressed on."You have nothing to feel sorry for or guilty about."

"Oh yeah? Ya think so?" Dean shot back "Hell the Crossroad Demon said it herself; My soul's so tarnished she didn't even want it!" His self loathing was evident in his tone now.

"You have nothing to feel sorry for" Sam repeated as he moved in closer to Dean again. He had to make him understand. He fisted his hands into Dean's jacket lapels to stop him trying to back away from the truth in front of him.

"Believe me, there was NOTHING you could have done to stop me leaving back then. There was NOTHING you could have done to stop Dad making a deal. There was NOTHING you could have done to stop Jake killing me. You have nothing to feel sorry for. It's not your fault, none of it is!." Sam shook his brother with each word as he stared into those haunted green eyes.

"Don't say that, Sam. Don't you say that to me!" Dean pleaded as he tried to back away. Couldn't. Tried to look away. Sam wouldn't let him. Sam cupped his chin and held him firm, gazed into his eyes.

"Not your fault," he repeated, softer now "Not your fault." Dean lip trembled. Sam would not be denied. Dean's throat ached as he tried to clamp down on the pain inside but it was unbearable. It willed up and spilled out like a dam bursting its banks. He clutched Sam fiercely, like a drowning man holding a life preserver, for that was exactly what Sam was to him.

Sam held him just as tight back. He repeated in Dean's ear to reaffirm the truth that everyone else already knew, except Dean himself. "Your life's not worthless. You don't deserve to die, and I won't let you." Sam rubbed Dean's back in a circular motion like Dean used to do for him when he was little. "I'm sure as hell not letting you go any time soon."

The sobs racked Dean's chest as he held onto his brother. He couldn't seem to make them stop. Didn't matter though. His broken soul had been laid bare by Sam, then soothed and given back to him whole again. Confession really did seem to be good for him, although Dean wasn't sure if it would make much difference to him going to hell. He felt Sam's hand on the back of his hair. Remembered he'd clutched Sam's dying body like this just 2 weeks before. He wondered briefly if it would be like this in a year's time too. The thought sobered him up. He wanted to enjoy every moment he had left, however long that might be. Sam had opened the door for him, and maybe this time, he could walk through it.

"I don't wanna die" he whispered into Sam's ear.

"I won't let you...We'll figure this out. Come on, you know how smart I am already, right?" Sam joked as he cherished comforting his brother for once, instead of it always being the other way round.

Dean shifted and Sam felt him nod and try to pull back, but he wasn't getting away that easy. "Hey Dean? Folks already think we're gay, if they see us like this we'll never loose the tag."

"OK, that's enough!" Dean coughed as he pulled back from his brother, glancing around hastily in case anyone saw them. Sam just laughed and hugged him again for good measure.

"Bitch!"

"Jerk!"

The End or to be continued, you decide? Review please this is my first fanfic ever. Don't burn me too bad.