Take these broken wings and teach them how to fly

Losing you, losing me

Dean knew he was in trouble when Sam entered the room. Something about the way the teenager carried himself made him know it.

They knew each other best after all. They knew all their tells, they knew when the other was sad. They knew when something was on the other's mind.

Or maybe it was just Dean who knew all of Sam's tells. He himself had always tried to hide how he was feeling even though sometimes he had the feeling that Sam knew all too well how Dean was actually feeling.

It had started out with just wanting to protect his brother. The younger boy shouldn't ever have to worry about the same things Dean had to worry about. He had to make sure that Sam didn't have to worry about anything. Didn't have to suffer the same way he did.

Sam was the one who had a shot at a good, normal life.

He had lost that shot a long time ago. He had lost that chance the night their mother died.

"Dean? Can we talk?" Sam asked softly.

Dean couldn't help but swallow at that. It was such an innocent statement, nothing bad would happen, right? But Dean had the problem that he tended to overthink things.

You're too skinny.

You're not good enough.

It was your one job to make sure Sam doesn't have to worry about you. It was the only thing you had to do. How could you even fail at something so simple?

You messed up again.

Dean shrugged. What was he supposed to say? Sam would talk about whatever was on his mind one way or another, it wouldn't matter what Dean said.

Sam sighed deeply at his shrug and Dean couldn't help but feel bad.

Now you did it again. How can someone fuck up so much in such a short amount of time? What even are you good for?

"Dean... It can't go on like this. You're destroying yourself. Do you really think nobody notices that you're not eating? Do you really think we don't see that you're not talking to your therapist? He talks to us, you know? He told us that you're not saying anything during your sessions. Your physical therapist also tells us that you're not doing your exercises. Things... It can't go on like this."

Dean swallowed and looked away, not feeling able to actually face his younger brother right now. Everything Sam had said was true. He knew things couldn't go on like this. He should start trying, he should actually try to get better.

But he couldn't.

He never learned to talk about his feelings. How much things scared him. What he was thinking. That he felt like drowning on dry land sometimes. Nobody would understand.

"Dean, I can't lose you. Not again. I was so happy to know you're back. That they've found you and that you would be okay. But right now I have the feeling that you're not back. You're still in that hellhole."

This finally got a reaction out of him.

He laughed. It was a dry, humourless laugh. It sounded so cold. Lifeless.

"I'll never leave that hell, Sam. I've been stuck in that hell ever since I've been four years old. Him kidnapping me and torturing me just pushed me deeper into that hole," he said, smirking slightly.

It didn't take him long to regret his words though. This wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. He was supposed to comfort Sam, make sure his little brother was okay.

Sam is more important than you are. Always remember that.

You're not important.

You failed.

The look on Sam's face made things even worse. God, why had he even opened his mouth?! He should have kept quiet. Now he had to deal with the mess he had made and god, this was the biggest mess he had made in a while.

The shock on Sam's face quickly turned to anger though and Dean was a little taken aback. Sure, he had seen Sam angry, they had been together for all their lives after all. There were many times Sam had been angry, mostly for not getting what he wanted. But this anger was new. It was something so much bigger than everything he was used to.

"Do you really think I don't know that you've been through hell, Dean? Do you really think I was so stupid not to see what he was doing to you when we were still living with him? Do you really think I didn't see the bruises? I saw everything. I heard you cry yourself to sleep. I was there, Dean!"

Usually Sam would never raise his voice. Now the teenager had though and Dean knew he had messed up big time.

Still, even though he knew that he deserved Sam's anger, he couldn't help but flinch away. Shouting never meant anything good. Shouting always meant he would get hurt and even though he knew that Sam would never hurt him, Dean couldn't help but be scared.

"I saw you closing yourself off. I saw the way your mind got the better off you. I was young but I'm not fucking stupid! Stop trying to protect me from the world! The world is a shit place but let me help you! I don't need you to protect me! I need you to be my brother!"

Now you made him cry. Fucking useless piece of shit.

Dean swallowed and looked away. He deserved these words.

But making Sam cry? He would never be able to forgive himself for that.

"I just... Sorry. I can't do this right now. Get your shit together, Dean. I'm tired of trying to show you that I'm there for you. Don't expect me to come here again."

And with that he was alone again.

With this he had lost the only thing that had kept him going for so long.

He had lost his little brother.

*~*

Whoops.

I've kinda abandoned this story but I'll try to finish this!

I've just fallen out of the SPN fandom, so this might not be as good as you want it to be. A lot of the new characters won't appear in here, so... Sorry?

And I know this chapter is short but I have to get back into writing because I haven't done that in forever lol

(Fun fact: I typed this chapter in like two hours and this was the first time in forever that I actually had some inspiration to write. I hope it'll continue like this and that I'll be able to write longer chapters again but this was such a good break, I couldn't pass it up)

Let me know what you think and scream some at me in the comments!

Until the next chapter!