A/N: I do not condone alcohol abuse of any kind, but I did write this oneshot after an entire bottle of wine, after the Cubs lost in the playoffs, again, and said 'Maybe next year.' Then it dawned on me, Dean only has a year too, so here's the results of a bottle of Moscato and another disappointing year from yet another Chicago team. (I think I need to move to Boston!)

365 Peanut M&Ms

Sam woke to the sound of the motel door creaking, closing, and the shuffling of feet on the ancient brown carpet. At least he thought it was brown, hard to be sure. It had been a long night, with being dead, resurrected, killing the demon, and finding out the most important person in the world to you had a year to live. Yeah, it had been a long, shitty night.

"Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty. Seems we've got some demon ass to start kicking." Dean smiled at him, handing him a steaming hot cup of coffee.

"You're full of it this morning, aren't you? You ready to let me stitch up that head yet?"

"What for? Does it matter if it leaves a scar?"

"Dean, please don't talk like that. I told you I'll do whatever it takes to get you out of that deal, and I meant it."

"I know you meant it Sammy, but I also know that you can't. The sooner you accept it, the better. We have one year to clean up the mess we made last night, and the sooner we get to it, the better."

"Dean, why…" Sam's question had been rudely interrupted by the sound of another one of Dean's obnoxious ring tones. 'Number of the Beast', how appropriate, Sam thought.

"Hey Bobby, whatcha got? Uh huh, ok, yeah. We're on it. Call ya later."

Snapping the phone closed, he picked up Sam's bag, threw it at him, and told him rather then asked him, "Get your shower in, we're out of here in twenty."

"What did Bobby want?"

"Funny thing about demons Sam, they don't waste any time spreading their evil. Guy in Da Puke, Iowa apparently went crazy last night, killing his wife and three kids. Says he had no control over himself, sulfur all over the house, you know, the usual signs and wonders. Two hours later, soccer mom two towns over kills her husband and mother-in-law. Same scenario, except I can understand the mother-in-law part."

"How the hell would you know about a mother-in-law. You've never had one."

"Remember Cassie, close enough dude."

"Dean, sometimes I wonder if all the shots you've taken to the head have turned you into Rain Man, minus the savant half.

Dean opened his mouth to retort, eyes shifting left and right, and realized he couldn't come up with anything worthy. All that came out was, "Just take a shower Sam, you reek like a cemetery."

Sam headed to the bathroom with a grin from ear to ear, knowing he'd finally won one against the mighty Dean Winchester.

Twenty minutes and an entire hot water heater later, Sam emerged from the bathroom, clean and smelling like a million bucks. Scanning the room, he noticed that Dean had obviously stowed everything, except Sam's bag, in the Impala, and was ready to go. Tapping a finger lightly on the table and looking at his brother, Dean wordlessly asked with his eyes if he was ready. And the look Sam returned told him that he was.

Dean rose from his seat, grabbing the glass jar full of M&Ms that Sam was sure hadn't been on the table before his shower, and walked out the door. Straight to the Impala he headed, tucking the jar under his arm like it was a newborn baby, protecting it at all costs.

Sam right behind, he took his usual place at shotgun, and settled in for the ride.

"Where did you say we were going?"

"Da Puke, Iowa."

"You mean Dubuque?"

"What's the difference?"

"About four letters."

"Da Puke, Dubuque, same shithole, right. All it's got is demons and corn. Can't wait."

Without another word, Dean gunned the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot.

The trip to Iowa was uneventful, the confrontation with the demon unremarkable, and the trip to their latest motel room uncomfortable. There were so many things Sam wanted to say to his brother, but he knew Dean would never listen. Everything had pretty much been said the night before, at least in Dean's mind.

They'd checked into the motel early, the demon slaying being faster and easier then they had anticipated. Dean had no intentions of staying in tonight. He hit the shower first, grateful for the over abundance of hot water for a change. Emerging from the bathroom through a cloud of steam, and nothing but a towel, he smiled at his brother. Sam knew that look. That was the look of Dean telling him he was gonna score tonight, one way or another. And when he got that look, he usually did.

Sam showered quickly, knowing he'd probably need to be there to save Dean from himself. Picking up women was one thing, but if he decided to start hustling pool, that was another. Once he was sure he was sticking with the former and not the latter, he'd leave Dean to his own devices.

The night went smoothly, Dean spending it elsewhere, and returning sometime before dawn. Sam did not wait up for him, but was awoken by the sound of his duffel bag landing on his bed. Bleary eyed, he let out a couple curse words before asking his brother the obvious.

"What the hell Dean. It's like five a.m. Why do we need to be up so early?"

"Bobby called, he's got another lead. We need to go."

"Come on, we just took care of one, can't we have just a days peace?"

"No. Gather your shit and let's go."

Dean grabbed his bag off the floor, opened it, and took out his jar of M&Ms. He opened it, removing just one, closed it, and put it back in his bag.

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned to months. One demon after another sent back to hell where it belonged. They fought relentlessly, never giving up, never giving in. Some were easy, some had been hard. But they all went down in the end. Sam never asked, but as the days went on, he noticed that Dean's jar of M&Ms got emptier and emptier. Every day, he'd open it, and take out just one.

With every demon they exorcised, Sam tried in vain to find a way to free his brother from his curse. And as the days grew short, he had resolved himself to the fact that there really may be nothing he could do. And after 360 days, and 84 demons later, he knew he couldn't hold his emotions in anymore. Knowing that Dean would never listen, he decided to put his feelings down on paper instead.

Dean,

In five days, you will leave me. I'm so sorry that I couldn't free you from the deal you made. I still can't fathom how exactly I'm supposed to go on without my rock, my protector. You have given everything for me, and for that I can never be grateful enough. I lost a mother, a father, a woman I wanted as my wife, but you lost so much more. You lost all those things, but you also lost yourself. You had dreams once, I know you did. Somehow they got tossed along the way, and squashed like a bug on a windshield, only to be washed away by the wiper blades. You've never had a chance to really live, to enjoy life. You've given up everything to protect me, including your soul. I don't know if I even want to go on, knowing you'll be burning in hell for the rest of eternity. How am I supposed to live any kind of life, knowing you're suffering every minute of every day? And all because of me? Is this how you felt when you realized dad did it for you? The guilt eats at me every time I look at you, every time I see you smile, laugh, scowl, smirk, or frown. I know you say it's what you wanted, but how do I live with that? I don't know if I can, or if I even want to. I always hoped to see you happy some day, but I realize now that will never happen. Happiness and Winchester can't seem to coexist in the same sentence for some reason. I can only pray that wherever Dad went, he'll be able to take care of you. It's the only hope I have to hold on to. I know how you feel about chick-flick moments, but I need to say it for myself. You're my brother, and I love you more then anything in the world. I just needed you to know that.

Love, Sam.

Sam folded the note up, placed it in an envelope, and left it in the M&M jar, knowing Dean pilfered from it once a day.

The next four days were spent not hunting, but just enjoying each others company. Hitting the bars, going to movies, picking up girls, (well, Dean picking up girls), ordering pizza, and just plain screwing around, doing brother stuff. The note Sam had written had long since gone missing from the jar, along with the remaining pieces of candy. There was only one left, and Sam knew exactly what that meant.

Sam woke up the morning of the 365th day, only to find his brothers bed empty. There was no sigh of him anywhere. The Impala was still parked outside, glistening in the morning sunlight. On the nightstand, was Dean's jar. The lone peanut M&M still inside, it contained yet two other treasures as well. The keys to the Impala, and a note, folded neatly and laying at the bottom. A tear streaming down Sam's cheek, he pulled it from the jar, and started to read.

Sam,

My year is up, and I want you to know I have no regrets. Knowing you will live a full life is all I need to get me through the endless days and nights that are upon me. You are my brother, and I would do anything for you. The day Dad put you in my arms, you became my responsibility, and I hope I live up to it. Through thick and thin, we were there for each other. When you died, I knew I could never have lived without you, I never wanted to. You were my life, and when yours ended, so did mine. The deal I made was meaningless to me, since I was dead inside already. Giving my life to you was what I wanted, and I'd do it a hundred times over if I had to. Never feel that I sacrificed everything that I am. I did it willingly. Dad never mad me do it, it was my choice. Some day, I hope you believe that. All I ask is that you promise me one thing. Inside that jar is one, lowly peanut M&M. I started with 365, each piece representing one day I had to spend with you on earth. And every day, I removed just one. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help put things in perspective. I knew that we had to round up as many of those sons of bitches as we could. I didn't want any of them coming after you. We did pretty good in a year though, we got about half of them. Hoping Bobby and the others can get the rest. Protect yourself, keep yourself safe, and don't hesitate to call Bobby when you need him. I know what you're thinking Sam, it's the same thing I thought when you died. I want to tell you now, don't make what I did worthless. Promise me you'll live your life the way it was meant to be lived. And as for the lowly M&M, it resembles the only thing, except for the Impala I have left on earth. I want you to keep it. For every day of happiness you have, add one. For every day of doubt and sorrow, take one. If there aren't any to take, steal one. Some day, I want that jar so full, you can't close it anymore. I want you adding more then you take, until you don't need to take anymore. Just remember me when you open the jar, whether it be adding or taking. And take care of my car, or I swear to god, I'll haunt your ass! No chick flick moments Sammy, but I do love you too.

Love, Dean.

The tears were streaming down Sam's face uncontrollably. He wasn't sure he wanted to go on, but now he felt obligated to. Opening the jar, he took out the last M&M, thought about eating it, but just put it back. As long as it was there, he'd always have a little part of Dean. He hoped that someday he'd be able to fill that jar, and make his brother proud.

End Notes:

I hope everyone likes this, Wrote it after the Cubs lost in the playoffs and a whole bottle of wine. (Yeah, I admit it, I'm a Cubs fan. What do you expect, I'm from the Chicago area?)