First attempt at a Supernatural fic. Please be kind!

Spoilers for Season 3: Takes place right after the last episode of Season 3. I haven't gotten a chance to rewatch my DVDs, so there might be slight discrepancies.

Sam's voice is already horse from screaming, but he's not quite done with that yet (screaming, that is) – all those no's and stop's and please, stop it's; the wailing and the struggling. Now, there's no need to struggle anymore; everything is quiet, calm even.

He's breathing heavily; the sound is piercing in the otherwise too-silent room. Walking feels like wading through thigh-high mud, but he tries to move faster anyway. He's stumbling like a blind man, choking on the air he's sucking down a little too fast, and finally falls to his knees. He reaches his trembling hand out to grasp at his brother's jacket collar before stretching his fingers up to the blood splattered face.

"Dean…" he whispers, but his brother doesn't react.

"Dean…" he speaks a little louder, pulling the fallen hunter's head close to his chest, but still nothing from him; not even a facial twitch.

"DEAN!" he screams at the top of his lungs, voice breaking near the end, making it sound clipped.

Oh, my God.

He continues bawling as tears roll down his cheeks, splashing onto Dean's face. "No...no…please, no…Dean…"

His whole body shakes and he rocks himself and his brother back and forth on the floor.

Dear, God, no…

Weeping loudly, throwing his head back.

No, please, no…

Tossing his head back towards his brother.

Dean, please…

Holding onto him tighter, still rocking on his knees.

Oh, God…

Throwing his head back once more.

Please, God, please…

He presses his forehead against Dean's, sobs burning his lungs. Falling into hysterics, he starts laughing bitterly, "C'mon, he's a good man." Crushing his brother's broken body even closer to himself and lifting his head up to stare at nothing in particular, he shouts, "He's a good man!"

Please…please…please…give me a miracle.

"He doesn't deserve hell! He doesn't deserve to end like this!"

Bring him back!

"God!"

Please!

He's begging and yelling towards the ceiling, bargaining, chanting "he's a good man" and "please, God, please," over and over again. "You can't do this to him!" and "You can save him, why won't you save him?!" is thrown in a bunch of times too.

"We've done everything we could!"

"We've saved so many lives!"

"We've helped so many innocent people!"

"We've sent so many evil shit to hell!"

"We've sacrificed so much!"

"We've sacrificed everything!"

Why. Won't. You. Save. Him.

After a while, he resorts to just whispering "Why?" repeatedly.

He cries until his voice is completely gone, couple of hours later. Dean's skin grows cold and pale; his bright green eyes now cloudy and dull. The blood turns a dark brown color, congealing on the hardwood floor and on Sam's clothes. He stopped wailing a long time ago and is now staring at the ceiling with big glassy eyes, mouth slightly parted. He no longer rocked his brother back and forth, only hanging onto him limply.

With his head still tossed back, he whispers one final thing: "You bastard."

END

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