We're Headed for Heartbreak

Sam woke up and looked at the clock. 1:35 am He looked over at Dean's bed, still made. Huh, that's weird. He's normally back before 1:30, Sam thought. As if he'd been waiting for that thought, Dean unlocked the motel door and stumbled in. He turned to lock and chain the door. Before he turned around again, Sam immediately laid back down, closed his eyes, and slowed his breathing. He couldn't take this again.Not being able to bring himself to senselessly fuck other women while completely wasted, even though he wanted to, was one thing, but watching Dean walk through that motel door every night with a pleased smile on his face was almost unbearable. Dean waddled past both beds and into the bathroom. When he heard the door shut and the lock slide home, Sam sat up and sighed. He put his head in his hands, and thought to his father Where's a father figure when you need it the most? Dad, I need you now, more than ever. I need your advice, just something to pull me out of this....whatever this is... He felt his hot tears on his hands. He pulled his head up, wiped his face and hands, and laid down, scolding himself for being weak. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he didn't notice Dean slip out of the bathroom and head towards his bed. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Sam hunched in on himself, silent tears streaming down his face.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean redirected himself and sat on the edge of Sam's bed.

"Yeah, Dean, I'm fine. Just go to sleep," Sam mumbled, rolling over to face the door, and away from his older brother.

"Sam, you know I don't do chick flick moments, dude. Don't make me ask. I will kick your ass if you make me ask you," Dean joked half-heartedly, trying to cheer his little brother up.

Sam cracked a small smile. He rolled over again to face his brother and changed the subject. "How was your night?" he said, forcing a smile and an interested look on his face.

Dean grinned like a Chesire cat. "It was great. The way that blonde could move her--"

Sam cut in, a small laugh escaping, "Okay, dude, I don't need the dirty details!!! Just.....go get some sleep, ok?"

"Whatever, dude. You know you wanna hear all about my sexy time!" Dean stood up and laid down on his bed. "Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam closed his eyes, and still crying, though he didn't know why, he fell asleep.

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Dean rolled over to look at the clock. 2:15 am He just couldn't fall asleep. The look on his little brother's face when he walked out of the bathroom and saw him crying was haunting him. He knew something was wrong. He always knew when something was wrong with his Sammy. He lifted his eyes from the clock's face to Sam's. Sam looked like he was in extreme pain.

As soon as the first whimper left Sam's mouth, Dean was out of bed and at Sam's side. Sam tosssed violently and was whimpering, steadily getting louder. Dean threw the covers back, laid down next to his little brother, and threw his arm over Sam's shoulder, pinning him to the bed. Sam thrashed against Deam for a couple seconds and then relaxed. Dean whispered to him, "I've got ya, Sammy. It's okay. It's just a dream. I'm here." Sam turned to face Dean and snuggled to his side, hand locked firmly onto the front of Dean's shirt. Dean laid his arm around Sam's shoulders and, laid next to his brother, fell asleep with one thought constantly running through his head, the thought that he lived upon. What can I do to help Sammy?