I'm really depressed right now so have some brothers comforting each other.

If he had a choice, Dean would've killed himself a long time ago. He despised his entire existence, but the matter of his living or dying wasn't in his hands. It had been in the hands of the man who could barely call himself a father, the man who turned his kids into soldiers before they had reached the third grade; and now it had been passed on to the shaggy haired kid who Dean had sworn to protect with his life. It had been burned into his brain since he was four. "Take care of Sammy." "Watch out for Sam." He wasn't denying his love for his brother, the kid was his life. But Dean didn't want this life. Sam was the one who always fought it, who made it known that he wasn't happy. God knows Dean didn't want this life, but he didn't know anything else. That was a major component behind his self hatred. He wanted out more than anyone knew, but he couldn't. The only way out of this life for him was to die, and by his own hand wasn't an option.

He didn't really know it, but Sam knew. Sam knew his brother hated himself. He watched as Dean tried to alleviate the pain in any way possible. Women, booze, it was all only temporary. Sam had made his own stupid choices when it came to distracting himself from the never ending depression that followed them everywhere. Ruby and the demon blood bypassed anything Dean had ever done, and Sam knew he'd never forgive himself for it.

Dean didn't realize just how broken Sam was. He was too focused on making it through each day. Sam understood. But it didn't make it any easier to watch his brother slowly sink lower every day. He wanted to help, but he didn't know how, and it killed him.

Their father had pounded it into their heads that crying was a sign of weakness, but sometimes Sam couldn't help himself. He would bury his face in his pillow and try and make sure Dean wouldn't hear him. Sometimes he heard Dean doing the same thing. They never talked about it.

Until one night, after ten minutes of listening to Dean'a shuddering breaths while tears ran down his own face, Sam broke. He stood up and walked over to sit on the edge of Dean's bed. Dean stiffened when he felt the bed shift and muttered, "go away."

"Please," Sam whispered, his voice cracking. Tears made their way down his cheeks, and he felt six as opposed to twenty four. "I need my big brother."

Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes red rimmed but worried. Sam never came to him anymore. "Please. I need this. You need this. Please."

Dean took a breathe and opened his arms slightly. Sam fell into them and cried on his brothers shoulder like he hadn't done in years. He could hear Dean whispering into his ear, "it's okay Sammy. Don't cry." His voice was rough and broken with his own tears.

"We'll be okay, Dean. Okay?"

He could feel his brothers chest heaving as he whispered back, "okay."

They stayed like that for hours, neither willing to leave the comfort that only they could give each other. They wouldn't ever say it out loud, but they both knew they were saving each others lives.