Sam knew it wasn’t the coin talking. There was no need for a spell to understand how Dean felt about him, how betrayed and hurt he was because of him. He didn’t know if Garth told him the things he said, but he didn’t ask. He didn’t want to know if the reason of the heavy silence inside the Impala was because Dean didn’t know how bad he damaged his brother or because he simply didn’t care.

When they got inside their room of a dingy motel they found along the road, Sam avoided any eye contact with Dean. However, he managed to watch every single movement his brother was doing. Deep down, he had the bitter awareness that Dean was going to leave him any minute now and the thought terrified him. But why did it? He was a monster, he shouldn’t feel emotions, he only deserved to be hunted - that time Dean hadn’t even needed a spell to tell the truth - but a piece of him still wanted to fight for his family. He didn’t shower (what if he came out of the bathroom and Dean was gone?), he quickly changed his clothes next to his bed and waited for his brother to lay down. Only when Dean was under the covers with his shoes and keys sufficiently far away from his bed, Sam settled down, certain that his brother wouldn’t have run away from him. He faced the wall and fell asleep as soon as his head leaned against the pillow.

That morning Dean got up early. He looked at the tiny hideous window of the motel: the sky was still dark, still full of hidden nasty creatures that most of the people didn’t even knowledge. Sam was in the same position he fell asleep the night before, his body facing the wall, breathing quietly. After the events of the night before, he was glad he didn’t have to speak with him yet. He wasn’t sure of what would happen if he opened his mouth. However, he didn’t like that silence either. He needed to do something.

When Dean got out of the shower, leaving the drenched towel on the ground and wetting all the carpet, the sun was already up. Sam’s peaceful snoring was still filling the room. He almost seemed at peace, without a trace of the screaming chaos that used to live in his mind rent-free. Dean decided to get breakfast in a diner not too far away from the motel - black coffee and cheap donuts - and waited for his brother to wake up. Twenty-seven minutes later Sam was still sleeping and half of the food was gone. Whatever, Sam would’ve eaten without him just fine. Forty-five minutes later, even the other half of the breakfast was gone. Nobody likes their coffee freezing cold anyway. He started cleaning his weapons, read some news, packed his duffel and put it in the Impala. When he came back inside Sam was still asleep. The older brother stood there, watching his back move slowly - almost hypnotically. Down. Up. Down. The silence got suddenly interrupted by his phone ringtone. Incoming Call from Garth.

«What?»

«Dean! How you feeling, buddy?»

«Hold on a second,»

«Why are you whispering? You alright?»

Dean looked over at his brother again. Sam didn’t give the idea he was going to wake soon so he closed the door of the motel behind him and headed for the stairs.

«Yeah I’m good. Sam’s still sleeping,»

«He okay?» Dean rolled his eyes, damn if this guy was a pain in the ass.

«Yes, Garth. We’re all good. Why did you call me?»

«Just checkin’. Yesterday had been intense, just wanted to know if you guys reconciled,»

«Yeah, we’re alright.»

«Great! I can’t say the same for me, tho. My car died in the middle of the road last night, I had to pay 200$ for a tow truck. Balls.» Dean snorted loudly, fucking idiot.

Sam wake up dizzy - he felt like he had slept for a week - and turned to Dean’s bed, finding it empty. His stomach immediatly dropped. He got up, stumbling on his own feet, and ran to the bathroom, searching for his brother. Empty. There was only a towel, tossed on the floor.

«DEAN-»

He felt his chest starting to constrict. Of course Dean was gone, how could he stay with a monster? How could he not leave that disappointment of a brother, who betrayed him with a demon, who hadn’t come to save him, his own blood?

«DEAN-»

Dean’s duffel was gone too, just like the Impala’s keys. There was some trash on the tiny table, two empty cups and some greasy napkins.  He didn’t dare to look outside, where they had parked the car the night before. He didn’t want the confirm that Dean left him once for all. He didn’t want to hear himself crashing all over the floor and turn into a pile of tears and snot. Well, too late for that. He was alone. As the vilest beast should be. Then why was he screaming his lungs out. Apparently even monsters have feelings, even monsters are frightened of losing their only family. He couldn’t breathe anymore. Why couldn’t he breathe? Fuck. Someone was squeezing his lungs with their bare, cold hands. He fell backwards, against the moldy wall, gripping his own shirt.

«DEAN-»

Dean felt his blood freeze as he heard the screaming coming from the motel. Sam.

«And I told the idjit to go to hell but then-»

«Garth, I’ve gotta go.»

«What? Is something wro-»

Dean shoved his phone in his pants and ran up the stairs, taking four steps at a time. When he bursted into their room he found Sam sitting on the ground with his back pressed to the wall and his hands almost tearing up his clothes. He was gasping as if all the oxygen of the world was gone, making his chest move dangerously fast.

«Sammy? Can you hear me?» Dean knelt down in front of him, grabbing his shoulders. «Sam, breathe. What’s wrong? You hurt?»

But Sam wasn’t there, not really. He was trapped in his mind, leaving a seizing body without ears nor eyes. There was no way Dean could snap him out of it. Sam’s wheezing started to slow down as his eyes rolled back - he was going to pass out.

«No no no no. Sam, don’t you dare check out on me. Breathe, damn it, you have to breathe-»

He tried to throw a few punches at his chest, hoping it could make him inhale some air without breaking a rib. Sam finally gasped with eyes wide open but Dean’s smile of relief died as his brother started to wheeze again.

«Hey no no, you were doing good, c’mon-»

«Don’t leave me, please Dean, don’t leave-» Sam was no longer gripping his own clothes but Dean’s. He clutched at his shirt like it was a lifesaving, pleading and gasping.

«I’m not leaving, Sammy. I’m right here, we’re here,»

«Please-»

«I’m not going anywhere, Sam. Not without you.»

«I’m sorry- I’m so sorry-- please don’t leave m-» Sam’s pleading got interrupted by a calloused hand over his mouth. Dean was just a few inches from him, eyes focused on the swollen, devastated face of his brother.

«Stop. Inhale with your nose and stop talking, c’mon-» Sam nodded frantically, following Dean’s orders like a soldier, like the little boy who had always trusted his older brother with his life.

When Sam began to breathe properly, a heavy silence fell on the room, making his stomach turn with shame. He couldn’t look at his brother’s face. How weak he had been, how terrified, (how human).

«You good?» Sam only nodded, Dean’s eyes were burning his skull. «What the hell happened?»

«’don’t wanna talk.» He muttered.

«Okay, then. Bag your stuff, mine’s already in the car. We’re leaving in a minute.»

The coldness in his voice ripped him apart even more, if possible. He swallowed his own tears and got up, trembling on his legs.

«So, are we gonna discuss about what happened at the motel or not?» Sam flinched at the sudden noise.

«There’s nothing to discuss about. I’m fine.»

«Yeah, right. So you were freaking out for absolutely no reason?»

«I don’t want to talk about it, Dean.»

«Of course you don’t. You always expect me to talk about my feelings but when it comes to you, you shut down.»

Please stop. Why, you deserve this.

«How can I even trust you if you act like that?»

His lip quivered. The words were cutting him off like knives until the sounds became muffled as if his head was getting stuffed with cotton. Cotton inside his ears and his nose and his mouth. Fuck. The voice was still mad, accusing, but he couldn’t understand a word.

«-am? Are you even listening to me?»

«Could you pull over?» Inhale. Exhale. Inhale.

«What? No-»

«Dean, please. I need to get out,»

«Sam, I can’t just stop in the middle of the road-»

Cotton inside his ears and his nose and his mouth. He couldn’t breathe anymore. When he started wheezing, clenching both teeth and eyes, Dean decided that stopping wasn’t a bad idea, after all.

«Shit-» He abruptly stepped on the brakes, swerving to his right. As soon as he rushed out of the car to reach his brother on the other side, Sam started screaming, trying to escape from his seat belt, unsuccessfully.

«NO NO PLEASE, don’t go. Dean, don’t leave me here- PLEASE-»

«Easy, easy Sam. I’m right here», «Stop moving, I’m trying to get you out-» Despite Sam, who kept struggling and writhing, Dean managed to release his belt, dragging him outside. «C’mon, sit down. Breathe-»

Sam tried to do what he asked, he really did. He wanted to prove to his brother he was still worth it. Was he? But he couldn’t control the roaring inside his brain.

«Look at me. You have to breathe, in and out-» Dean panicked as his brother started sobbing hysterically, gasping even more. «Shit shit shit- Sam, I need you to listen to me. Okay? Slow your breathing down, just slow down-»

When Dean realised that talking wasn’t going to help his brother, he just waited there, rubbing his back, until Sam stopped crying, several minutes later. He brushed his hair from his sticky face, tucking the locks behind his ears.

«Here we go, good job. Keep breathing-»

Sam had a normal rhythm now, even though his limbs were still shaking.

«You good?» Sam nodded, looking at his feet.

«I’m sorry,» He whispered.

«It’s okay, Sammy. Everything’s fine,»

«It’s not. I know what you think about me,» He wished his voice didn’t sound as quivering and pathetic as he felt it was.

«Look, I’m not proud of what I said back there,» Sam could feel his heart hammering in his ribcage. Calm down.

«Garth told you?»

«Yeah, just before he left.»

«You didn’t tell me-»

«I know. I was angry, Sam.» He turned his gaze to the sky, he didn’t want to have that conversation right there. «I was angry at you because after all I did for you, you left me. It’s not something you can forgive that easily. But I was also angry at me, for telling you those things,»

«You just said the truth,» Dean exhale through his nose, picking his words carefully to avoid breaking his brother apart even further.

«It was the truth, yes-» He could see Sam shrinking, his face crumbling. «-but that was just a part of the truth. A nasty and angry one, of course, but still a small part of what I feel about you. I’d rather die than leave you, Sammy. You’re my family and I’d do anything for you, you hear me?»

«I’m so sorry, Dean.»

«I know, Sam.» Dean placed his hand on Sam’s head, moving his hair off his face. He felt a pang of sadness as Sam desperately leaned against his touch, closing his eyes.

«C’mon,» When he finally stoop up, he brushed the dust off his pants, heading for the driver’s door. «Get back in the car, I’ll put some Cèlin Dion for you,»

«But I don’t listen to Cèlin Dion-» Dean snorted loudly, opening the door of the Impala.

«Sure you don’t, smartass.»

Sam rolled his eyes and wiped his nose with his sleeve. The screaming was still roaring in his head, he knew it would never have stopped. But with his brother beside him, everything seemed easier – even surviving from himself.

He could breathe, Dean was there. He was safe.