Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam’s pained scream echoed through the old warehouse. Dean stopped what he was doing, which was trying to get the victims out, and turned around. Sammy? No. He sprinted to the source of the terrible sound and found his little brother on his back, with blood coming from his stomach. Dean felt his face fall as he slowly knelt next to the younger Winchester.
“Sammy?” Dean whimpered. Nonono. This is all my fault. Idiot! Why wasn’t I there to protect him? He scolded himself angrily. “Sam?!” Dean’s voice cracked with emotion as he gently patted his brother’s cheek. “Dad!”
John came running, “Oh, hell. What happened?!” He collapsed to his knees beside Dean and assessed his son’s injuries. Dean moved aside.
“I dunno. I just heard his scream.” Dean was able to make a few sentences come out normally, but the rest was an unintelligible mess.
“Hey, Dean. Calm down, alright? Call 911.” John said, noticing his older son’s panic.
Dean complied, his hands shaking against the phone as he barely managed to dial the number as he kept stealing glances at his wounded brother.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The man on the other end said calmly. Dean took a few breaths so he would be able to speak clearly.
“My brother, he’s hurt. I need an ambulance.” Dean said, barely keeping his voice steady.
“The address?”
Dean told him, keeping the stutters at bay while he did. John felt for a pulse and let out a long sigh of relief when he found one.
“He’s okay, Dean.” John made sure to tell his oldest, who was hyperventilating.
But the information fell on deaf ears. Dean wasn’t listening. Every sense of his was focused on Sam, as if the rest of the world wasn’t a thing. All I did was prove that I fail everyone who gets close to me. Dean thought, fighting off the tears.
The sirens neared, but Dean wasn’t completely aware of it.

Dean was sitting in a chair in the waiting room, nervously clutching at his jeans and continuing his self-loathing.
I cant do anything right. He thought, his breath hitching. Sam’s going to die and it is all my fault. His hands began to shake against his pants, his chest getting a weird pain and his eyes darting back and forth around the room. Sammy? Are you okay? Come on. Please don’t die. I won’t be able to live with myself.
Dean continued his silent panicking as John got good news from the hallway.

“Your son is okay. He got stabbed in a place that won’t hurt him much. We just had to disinfect and patch him up. He should be able to go home in a few days.” The doctor informed the father who was about to have a heart attack.
“Thank god.” John felt a huge weight being lifted and he chuckled in relief. “Can we see him?”
“Of course. He just woke up.” The doctor left.
John went into the room, deciding to have a chat with his son first.
Sam was laying in the hospital bed, his face pale, but relaxed. John smiled lightly at his son as he walked into the room, earning a small grin from Sam.
“Heya, Sammy. How’re you feeling?”
Sam shrugged, “A little sore, but I’m okay. Where’s Dean?”
John winced, “He blames himself. I think he almost had a panic attack when he saw you. But he’s good right now. Do you want me to go get him?”
Sam almost rolled his eyes. Of course his overprotective brother blames himself. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” John ruffles Sam’s long hair and turned to leave, “I’ll be right back.”
But Dean wasn’t good.

Chapter Text

Sam’s dead! He’s dead because of me! This always happens. Everyone around me gets killed. Maybe I’m the problem? What did I do?! Dean looked down at his jeans in a loss. He fought back the tears, it must be happy hour in the hospital, as if was filled and Dean wasn’t about to cry in front of them. But he was hyperventilating. He couldn’t breathe. No amount of rapid breaths could get him the air he needed. His hands shakes as if they were holding vibrating massagers, his eyes were wide like he had just seen a snake.
My little brother should have never believed in me. Look where it got him. He continued to pin these ideas in his mind, the constant pounding in his head never giving in, it just kept getting louder.
“Dean?” A familiar voice added to the pounding. Dean looked up, his breathing quickening as he saw his dad standing there. He was there to tell him the same thing he has been telling himself. That Sam’s death was all his fault and that he can’t do anything right.
John picked up on Deans behavior. His son was having a panic attack. “Dean? It’s okay, Sammy is okay. Do you want to see him?”
But that wasn’t what Dean heard. It’s all you, Dean. It’s always been you. You are the cause of your moms death. And now your brothers. How many times do you have to mess up before I’m dead? Dean heard that. His father yelling at him.
So Dean escaped, he pushed past his worried father and ran outside. But even the fresh air wasn’t enough to satisfy his lungs. The pain in his chest got deeper as he put his shaking hands up to his chest and let out a tearless sob.
“Dean! Hey, it’s alright!”
“No, it’s not! Sammy is dead because of me. Like you said, I can’t do anything right!” Dean tugged at his short hair, keeping a distance from his dad.
What? I didn’t say that. John thought, but decided not to argue with his already devastated son. “Sammy is not dead, Dean. He’s not dead. He is very much alive and he wants to see you! Come on, let’s go see him.” John said in a soft voice, hoping it would work. When he saw Dean was beginning to breathe somewhat normally, he knew it worked. “Come on, Deano. Sam is alright and it wasn’t your fault he got hurt. It was the damn ghoul, okay? Come on.” He put his hand on Dean’s shoulder lightly and guided him back into the hospital room.
But Dean wasn’t fully convinced, not until he could see Sam himself. Until then, the negative comments toward himself would continue.
John walked through the halls, still guiding Dean through the grip on his shoulder. Two more rooms. He quietly thought, then Dean would believe him.
Sam knew something was wrong. He could feel it. So when he caught sight of his father practically carrying his older brother into his room, he panicked. “What happened?” He asked, his voice weak but almost loud enough to qualify as a shout.
And then Dean saw him. He could have collapsed from the relief. A small ‘Sammy’ escaped from his quivering lips as he lowered his head and headed towards Sam to hug his brother. And Dean allowed the tears to fall. They drenched Sam’s hospital gown, but the younger winchester didn’t care.
“I thought you died.” Dean whined, he felt pathetic, but at least he was in his brother’s arms.
Sam huffed, “You can’t get rid of me that easily....jerk.”
A smile tugged at Deans lips, more tears falling, “Bitch.”