O.K. this just came to me I have no idea from where. I was finishing a chapter on my hunt story and this came out of me over fussing about it.

We can say it happens after Bloody Mary. And it's a two part story but I want you to tell me if I should post the second chapter. Because this can be read like a stand alone. If you decide to review please tell me if you think it needs the second chapter. It's all Sam and Dean in there. And I borrowed my summary and the name of the story from Remy Zero's song Shattered.

This was written like an hour ago, so it hasn't been beta-ed, and I only own the mistakes. Sad, I know.

Enjoy.

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"Dean, just go. O.K. I'll be fine. I'll just go to sleep."

"Sam, I can't leave you alone. Not now." he slid his hand over his mouth.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'."

"Dean you wouldn't have said it if it didn't mean something." a slight pinch of annoyance.

"Just…never mind. I'm going. But you better be here when I come back, you got that?"

"Where am I supposed to go?" I won't leave, Dean.

"Do I really have to answer that?" raised eyebrow.

"No." defeat.

"Thought so."

"Just go. I'm pretty sure I'll be able to go to sleep. I'm not a kid anymore."

"I know you're not Sam…my." and a smirk.

"Just go." and a smile.

A smile Dean didn't see that often, so he dared to look at it for a second too long.

"Oh, and bring me a Coke while you're out."

Yeah, definitely a second to long. That brat.

A slight nod of his head and Dean opened the thin brown motel door that made a slight cracking sound. A breeze of cold nightly air brushed Sam's form standing in the middle of the room.

Forgotten.

The door closed with a slight click. It was almost like Dean didn't wanna make noise.

Sam was left there standing in the middle of the motel room. Moving slowly to the bathroom, washing his teeth…a look in the mirror reviled nothing new. Long brown hair, a little restless and curly at the back, under slept green eyes, a weary look, and a need for everything to be alright. He washed his face, and another look in the mirror reviled blushed cheeks and wet hair.

A sigh.

He pulled a towel across his face, letting it absorb the cold water dripping from his chin on his gray T-shirt, sliding down his sweatpants or strait down on the floor.

With the lights out and ready to go to sleep, he sat on the edge of the bed.

Alone.

The moonlight was bright, too bright. Rays of it were penetrating into the room through a big window directly in front of the beds. He looked up toward it, maybe I should pull the curtains.

But he couldn't move. He sat on the hard mattress and stared at the window. He left out a small huff of air, and put his head in his hands.

A sigh of frustration reached the empty room.

I saw her. One single thought tormenting his soul.

The darkness around him, eyes hidden in his hands, little stars dancing underneath them, and a touch.

A hand like a soft breeze sliding down his right arm, stopping slightly on his wrist, a friezing feeling crawled under his skin, then going towards his hand still supporting his head.

He didn't flinch, didn't even notice. It didn't burn, it wasn't cold, it was just there. Present.

Sam.

A whisper in the dark, loosing battle with the wind outside. Barely audible, but there. Right in front of him.

Another hand on his left arm, gliding to his hand. Fingers trying to come between his head and his hands. Prying, squeezing, pulling, detaching.

It was normal once but right now it was just…not normal.

It's not normal, it's not normal, not normal…like a mantra going through his brain.

Sam.

A breeze of sound near his right ear. Dripping in his brain, sounding out everything else. Every thought he had, every reasonable thought he should have had was drown in the sound of his name.

Hands still trying to pull away his fingers…he let them.

Sam.

His head fell down, chin slightly touching his chest, the locks of his still wet hair hiding his eyes, closed still.

Fingers intertwined with his, squeezing lightly and applying pressure slowly and steady.

Sam.

He wanted to raise his head, open his eyes, run away, scream, but all that was swept away by the sound of his name, spoken with that voice. The voice that brought longing, yearning for something.

He felt his left hand being released, and he let it fell lifelessly to his side. A whoosh of cold air moved to his chin. One finger followed by another and a cold pressure made him raise his head. He stood up when the pressure increased or else he felt like his head would be torn of.

A pop in his knee was all that was heard in the quietness of the room.

Sam.

His breath got caught somewhere deep in his throat, maybe still in his lungs. It didn't matter. He couldn't breathe anyway.

The hand moved from his chin, finger traveling over his bottom lip, he opened his mouth a little releasing out his breath, towards his mole, slightly sweeping over it, over his left temple, thumb brushing over his eye, begging to be opened.

Sam.

The hand went to his hair, clutching the curls in the back, pulling just enough that he had to moan. From somewhere deep inside of him came another moan, when he felt his hand being moved.

Closer.

He clutched the soft fabric on the waist. And released. And clutched again. He wanted to feel skin, bones, warmth. But all he felt was soft silky fabric loose in his grip.

Sam.

He winced. The hand in his hair brought his head closer, the other one gliding up on his arm leaving little goose bumps in its trail until it hit the back of his neck.

Sam.

A breath near his mouth and a feeling of forgotten brush of tongue on his lips. He shut his eyes to the point of pushing them inside his head. And he just let go. One kiss, one feeling of tongs passing lightly over each other, one gasp for air when it was over. The taste of sweet flowers replaced with the sour stench of rotten flesh.

Sam.

He found himself moving, scraping his feet on the carpet, dragging them to a melody long forgotten, but still stuck in his head. It was the only thing he knew right now. Just a melody and someone pressed to his chest.

His head fell onto a shoulder. The sweet smell of flowers was back with the ticklish feeling of hair on his cheek. He moved his hand and grabbed fistful of them. Silky, gentle, covering his hand, sliding in his nose, mouth. They tasted so sweet.

Sam.

He tightened his hold on her waist, and he could feel the pull on the lower back as she rose on her toes. He buried his face in her hair, enjoying the smell allowing it to take him back.

Sam.

The hair on his neck stood up with the slight breeze that name brought. It was coldly whispered alongside his neck, moving him closer.

The tears were there, locked in the corners of his eyes and he willed them not to fall. Just…not to break the connection.

She was so close to him, her warmth mixing with a strange sensation of coldness, flowery smell mixed with the smell of something rotten, and Sam thought he never felt and smelled anything better.

He felt like he was being lifted, moved somewhere else. He didn't wanna come back. Ever.

Sam.

They were dancing. A rhythm known only to them, the carpet their dance floor, the moonlight their spotlight. And Sam held tighter, stronger, almost hurting her, if she could feel. It felt like he was in her, and she was in him. But still solid. Where one began and the other one ended…was the melody. The sound of Sam's breathing and her whispers. Just...

…Sam.

He slid his hands to the middle of her back, the fabric rustled a little, breaking the melody in his head, opened his eyes, tears sucked in, and pulled back. His body was trembling like a tree branch on unsteady water.

I love you.

He vaguely knew that at some point he learned to breathe but right now he lost all knowledge of it. He started to gasp for air, tears stung his eyes again, it was like his brain was nonexistent. No thoughts, no ideas, no air, just a sensation of need. A need so deep crawled up his spine and made its way to his brain, leaving him with just that. A sad feeling of need.

"Jess."

Sam.

He wanted to slide his hands all over her body, taste her, smell her, hold her, need her, not miss her so bad. He wanted to touch her skin, taste her lips one more time, one last time. Her lips full and moist. her eyes glistering in the silver light, he could see himself in there, staring, screaming. Her blond hair, curled and glittering, cascading over her shoulders, shining skin of her face and he couldn't take it anymore.

She ran her hand alongside his forehead, pushing his hair back, down his cheeks, feather like touch on his jaw and lips, making him hitch and drop in the touch. Soft touch, like satin.

"Sam." a deep voice, little raspy on the edges, sounding so far away. Miles and miles away.

"De..n."

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Please tell me if it needs that second chapter.