Leaving

Author: Cheryl W.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sam or any rights to Supernatural, nor am I making any profit from this story.

Author's Note: This story is dedicated to Diane. Thanks for your ever wonderful, unwavering support. Though this angle isn't what you requested, I hope it's a small peace offering until I can track down my elusive muse.

Summary:This is a quick angsty one shot for Hunted. No slash.

Leaving. I can't believe I'm going to leave him. I know my brother well enough to know it's the worst thing I can do to him. Being left behind, it's the only thing he can't bear. I bite my lip as I watch him sleep, unsuspecting of the betrayal I'm about to unleash, the hurt I'm going to inflict.

Everything is so screwed up! The last thing on earth I want to do is to hurt him, to add another welling wound to the battle scars he bears, to give him more false proof that he's unworthy of loyalty, of love. I want to stay, I would stay, would spend the rest of my life proving to him that he's the best man I've ever known, will ever know, if I could just know one thing, be absolutely sure of one thing. But standing here in this motel room, I don't know that thing, can't even lie to myself and pretend I know. I don't know, and for all my brother's bravery and loyalty and love and faith, he doesn't know either, wants to know, desires to believe, but I see it in his eyes, the doubt, the weight that Dad gave him and I added to. And yet the question goes unanswered.

Swallowing down a sob, I back away, slip into the darkness, watch his face, imprint it on my mind as I have done in the past. And then I walk away, my heart pierced with pain, my soul drowning in sorrow and my head filled with resolution.

Leaving. I can't believe I'm leaving him. But I know it's the best thing I can do for him, the most selfless thing I've ever done in my life. If it were up to me, up to what I wanted, what I needed, I would stay, I would stay at his side against all comers, all fates, would welcome death as long as we met it together.

He won't understand, any words I would speak, any words I would write, nothing will prove to him what's in my heart, what leads me to make these sacrifices, to inflict this hurt upon him, upon myself . He'll wake up and find me gone and…..I wish I were wrong, but I know he'll believe it's because I don't love him, because I'm pissed that he didn't break his promise to Dad sooner, that I don't want to be with him, that I hate my role as his little brother.

He'll be so wrong, as wrong about that as anything in his life. I wish that I didn't have to let him entertain those ludicrous thoughts, endure that pain, doubt what he means to me. I slide the jimmy into the car beside the Impala, open the door and sit behind the steering wheel, feeling claustrophobic though I know the interior space measures nearly the same as the Impala's.

It's a horrible thing, having one uncertainty threatening to destroy everything. If I could only know, if I could only prove to myself, to my brother, that one thing, I could stay, could spare him the pain, spare myself the pain. If only I knew that I would never harm him, that whatever plans are laid out for me, they don't include me hurting Dean, me killing Dean. I can bear anything but that, even this pain, even his pain.

It's a crappy thing, hurting someone to save them. With one final look over to the Impala, to the room where my brother still sleeps, I start the car, back it around and drive away.

Leaving Dean. It's the best thing I can do for my brother. And I love him too much to do any less.

Thanks for reading! I know it was short and without much meat but my muse seems to be MIA…probably soaking up the sun in the tropics without me!!?!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.