Worry, Sorrow, and Faith

by: supernaturaldh

Worry looks around, Sorrow looks back, and Faith, looks up.

Summary: Dean is back from the flaming gates of hell, and struggles to cope with his memories of his time there. Sam is distraught – he should have been able to save his brother from a fate much worse than death. A misguided hunt for a ghost, one injured brother - and they may just find their way back to each other.

Chapter One

Worry

"It was four months up here, but... down there, in hell, I dun no... time is different, it was more like forty years, and I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy."

Dean's distraught words echoed in Sam's head, the desolate look on his big brother's face tore into his heart with a heaviness that he could not comprehend. My brother was tortured, in hell, everyday, for 40 years - Oh my God! He was going to be sick. He swallowed the sour bile back down his throat and leaned into Dean's shaky shoulder, hand resting against his brother's back. He offered what little comfort he could as his big brother cried uncontrollably. His mind swirled with images of Dean suffering at the hands of demons, of the evil being Alastair, and it made him so angry that his breath caught in his chest, his heart hammered loudly in his ears. I should have tried harder to save him. I should have saved him. The tears welled up in his eyes and he blinked them back, struggling to keep himself under control. His fingers squeezed the bridge of his nose, swiping back the tears that pooled in his vision; his hand rubbed soothing circles between Dean's shaking shoulders.

"Dean... Dean look, you held out for thirty years. That's longer than anyone would've," Sam said gently, his own voice quivering with emotion.

Dean continued to cry, body sagging against the Impala. He suddenly heaved in a large gulp of air, shored up his shoulders and pulled away from Sam's soothing touch.

Sam worriedly watched as his brother pulled away.

Dean's patented 'game face' fell back into place as one hand quickly swiped the wayward tears from his face and he tugged out his car keys. He stood silently and walked toward the driver's door.

"Dean?" Sam looked curious water logged hazels at his big brother.

"Let's go." Dean muttered, pushing his own emotions back down. He slid behind the wheel of his baby, his eyes purposely diverted from Sam's face.

Sam stood for a long moment, staring blankly at his older brother through the windshield. I am worried about Dean. Not wanting to push his sibling, knowing he was having a hard time just dealing right now, Sam moved to the passenger door and dropped listlessly down to the cold leather, yanking the door shut with a loud thud, as the car pulled back out on the road. He sighed. It's obvious - the conversation is over.

-0-

They had been driving for hours the roadway blurring with the snowy landscape as signs and buildings whizzed by the car. Sam had no idea where they were, what state they were in, or when Dean would stop. His brother was driving with a vengeance, destination…no where. Sam sighed and let his hazels veer over to look at Dean's strained face. He really wanted to talk to Dean, get is brother to open up, let him help deal. But Dean, he would have none of that. His game face was firmly back into place, his green eyes staring blankly at the road ahead. Sam gave his brother one last glance, then leaned his head against the cool passenger window, his big brothers words playing over and over in his head.

"It was four months up here, but... down there, in hell, I dun no... time is different, it was more like forty years, and I couldn't do it anymore, Sammy."

-0-

Dean's boots crunched against the snow, eyes spanning the dimly lit woodland. He had pushed Sam into coming here, searching for the remains of a seven year old girl that had been seen haunting the woods around Blackberry Bold, Alabama for the last five years. The rumor was that the child had been brutally murdered by her father, but her remains had never been found. Sam said it was idle hearsay that they needed time to do more research. Dean had fought him on that idea, instead rushing to come out here, to wonder aimlessly in the woods.

-0-

"Dean, we're not even sure she was murdered. We don't know what happened, only that a ghost that looks like her has been seen around the woods out here. Let's just go back and do some more research." Sam pleaded as he lumbered slowly along behind his older brother.

"Well, her aunt said this was where they found her father, bullet wound in his head. He must have had something to do with it; why else would he kill himself?

"Dean, you're grasping at straws here dude. No one ever proved her father had anything to do with it. Maybe the guy was just depressed, and came out here because someone had seen his daughter's ghost. Maybe he just wanted to commit suicide." Sam huffed, as he continued to look around the weedy ground.

This is just crazy.

"Well no shit Sam, that's why we're here, 'cause I think he killed her, and I think she is out here."

"I'm just saying, wouldn't they have found something already, Dean….we really need to do more research."

Dean turned, giving Sam an ugly glare. He stomped forward past his little brother.

Sam sighed, pulling his sawed off up against his side. Dean had just been unbearable since he vocalized about his time spent in hell. His forty years in hell. Sam grimaced at the thought. I should have gotten him out of there. Dean drank too much, talked too little, and was all around being a royal pain in Sam's ass. He was acting just like he did when their father had died, cold and standoffish. Sam wanted to get his brother to talk to him, to allow him to help. But Dean would have none of that. He had closed himself off, put his game face firmly back into place. Now, his older brother was hunting with a vengeance, doing little or no research, and dragging Sam along for the ride.

-0-

The snow began to fly around the tired hunters as they trudged across the hillside, eyes scanning the area for a ghost, or any markings that could indicated that bones were buried there. Sam had given up trying to convince his older brother that this was a big waste of their time. He stumbled along behind Dean, fingers tugging up the zipper on his flimsy corduroy jacket.

Dean stopped unexpectedly, gazing intently at the lopsided soil around him.

Sam abruptly stumbled into his older brother's back, sending him and Dean both tumbling forwards, hands clamoring toward the ground.

"Jesus Sam, personal space dude. Get the hell back." Dean barked, shoulders rolling as he stood back up and glared at Sam.

Sam pushed to stand, and eased back away from Dean, hurt look flashing across his face. He stood silently watching as his older brother moved forward through the weeds, and left him standing there, alone. He is driving me nuts.

Sam saw the wavering apparition in his periphery and slowly pivoted his head to the side. He gazed at the pale faced little girl, several yards away from him, standing silently in the tree line. The small child smiled warmly at him and waved, her arm moving in a beaconing motion toward Sam. Then the ghost child ran.

"Dean," Sam hissed out as he sprinted steadily toward the ghostly image.

"Son of a bitch," Dean barked.

Sam heard his brother's muffled footfalls behind him as he thudded blindly forward, eyes focused on the ghostly fleeing form. He ran faster.

Abruptly, the ghost child disappeared, and Sam stumbled. One minute he was running, and the next he was falling; no longer feeling the ground beneath his feet, as he felt himself descend swiftly into a black void. The sawed off shotgun fell from his fingers, his arms wind milling for purchase, as he made his quick downward spiral. He heard a loud thud, and a white hot pain washed over him, and then, the darkness took him down.

Chapter Two

Sorrow

Dean pushed his little brother gruffly away.

"Shit Sam, do you understand the words personal space?" he barked, rolling his shoulders and steadying himself.

Sam's eyes widened, a puzzled frown curling to his lips. "Sorry," he mumbled as he stepped backwards and away from his big brother.

Green eyes glared intently at him before Dean stomped away.

Sam shuffled slowly to follow.

Dean sighed, Sam was his constant shadow now, and had been for weeks - the kid was stuck to him like glue. Ever since he had told Sam about his time in hell his gangly brother was under foot. Dean just wished the kid would give him some space. He was slowly coming to terms with his time spent in hell; the fact that he remembered it, well; it really scared the shit out of him. He didn't need to talk about it anymore, and he certainly didn't want to. He was regretting having opened up to Sam. Let's face it, the kid had enough on his plate, he certainly didn't need Dean's bullshit on top of it.

Dean grimaced as he heard Sam huff out a discontented breath behind him. He'd seen the hurt expression flashing across his brother's wide hazels, and he was truly sorry for that. He was being an ass, and he knew it, acting just like he did after their father died - closed off and reckless. He couldn't help it, sometimes, you just had to deal with things in your own way, in your own time, and this, unfortunately, was one of those times.

They scuffed along in silence the cold wind whipping past their faces.

"Dean..." Sam's voice hissed in apprehension behind his moving brother.

The oldest Winchester turned abruptly to see his gangly limbed brother bounding across the snowy field, eyes focused forward, running hastily after something. His adrenaline pumped into high gear and he raced to catch up with Sam, but the kid's long legs ate up the ground beneath him, already halfway across the field.

Dean's face dashed around the clearing, feet fumbling as he ran blindly in the snow. "Son of a bitch," he muttered. He glanced back up to Sam. Sam? Where the hell is Sam?

The eldest Winchester's boots slid on the icy mud as he came to a screeching halt. His body wavered slightly forward and he struggled just to stay upright. His chest heaved uncontrollably as his senses went into overdrive. He clutched his shotgun tightly up against his shoulder, eyes fixed on the wintry landscape. He was just here...what the hell? He stood stoically for a moment, taking in his surroundings, but nothing seemed out of place, nothing seemed a miss - except Sam was no longer there.

He keened his head to the side, and listened as the cold breeze howled around the trees, the snow spit lightly from the grey sky.

"Sammy?" His voice rose. His ears met with nothing but the weeping of the wind.

-0-

Sam gasped for air as his eyelids darted suddenly open. He squinted and attempted to clear his foggy vision. His head hurt. Where am I? He blinked and twisted his head, looking around the velvet black darkness. The smell of old dirt and damp wet air assaulted him. Slowly his senses came back on line, and he noticed he wasn't feeling so good. He heaved for air and shuddered uncontrollably as a white hot pain pierced up his leg. He whimpered as hot tears pooled against his half mast eyelids. He groaned unconsciously, and tried to fight the darkness. Another wave of pain hit and his eyes rolled back inside his head.

-0-

Dean was frantic - searching, calling, looking for Sam. Where the hell did he go? One minute he was here, and the next one, he's just gone? He tugged his hand through his short cropped hair, eyes gazing through the snowflakes. A sudden fear clutched at his chest. His moss green orbs glazed over, and he shuffled nervously from one foot to the other. Okay, okay, get a grip...find Sammy.

"SAM," he yelled loudly, frantic eyes darting all around.

Nothing...

"SAMMY?" He blinked back the dampness in his eyes.

Suddenly he saw something and he squinted. The flicker of light grew larger and then slowly morphed into a girl. A small girl, not over seven years of age appeared off in the distance, not twenty feet away. Holy shit. He moved the sawed off to his shoulder, finger pulsating on the trigger. He was ready to take the shot, and put the ghostly child out of her misery. The tiny apparition wavered looking sadly back at him.

Suddenly Dean stopped and lowered his gun. He stared at the ghostly child. Maybe she knows where Sam is?

The small apparition smiled warmly and waved her tiny fingers, motioning quietly for Dean to come closer.

The hunter eased his gun inside his jacket, and walked slowly toward the ghost. His boots crunched lightly in the freshly fallen snow. The apparition looked with wide brown eyes up at him.

"It's okay," he whispered, hands gesturing outward in a calming motion. He watched as the little ghost stared downward, a slow frown curling to her transparent lips. Her head raised again, a large tear rolling slowly down her pale, translucent face.

It was then that Dean saw it, the hole beneath her wavering feet. He heaved in a gasp of air and clamored quickly to the edge, dropping abruptly to his knees. His heart thudded in his ears as he peered into the dark vast nothingness.

"SAM...SAMMY," he yelled, his anxious voice echoing back up to meet him.

No longer caring about the spirit he looked anxiously down inside the hole. He squinted, his eyes straining in the dimly light to make out a tan jacket, a mass of chestnut hair, and gangly limbs that was most definitely his little brother.

"God," he whispered, looking down at Sam. Jesus, that's a long way down.

The hunter was faintly aware of the cold breeze and the goose bumps prickling on his neck as the tiny apparition leaned over him, dark brown eyes filled with sadness, as she stared down in the hole.

-0-

Sam heard a panic stricken voice.

"Sam!!" Dean screamed. "Answer me!!"

"Arg! God..." Sam murmured, a sharp ache flaring in his leg. His eyelids popped open, and he sucked in a short, quick, gasp of air. His thoughts were muddled and he drifted in the throws of pain.

"SAMMY!"

Sam shuffled restlessly on the ground.

"Sammy, can you hear me?" Dean's voice bellowed down hole.

Sam blinked sluggishly. Dean? He could hear his brother's worried voice wafting in around him. Where am I? He lifted his weak hand to rest on his aching head.

Dean calmed slightly when he saw Sam's hand flailing uncoordinatedly toward his face. He's alive. Thank God!

"Jesus Sam, you scared the shit out of me. How the hell you miss a hole this size?" Dean yelled with nervous agitation.

"Dean?" Sam's voice quivered up from below, a low confused whimper that Dean did not like at all.

"You okay kiddo?"

There was no response.

Sam's arm fell limply to his side as his eyes rolled slowly closed.

"SAM, you freaking answer me, right now!" Dean growled.

Hazel eyes snapped back open and stared upward. Sam moaned, the taste of bile rising in his throat. He rolled his head to the side and heaved; vomit rolling slowly from his lips and dribbling in a puddle by his head.

Dean grimaced. Sammy for sure has a head injury and no telling what else.

"Okay, I'm coming down there...just hold on Sammy, hold on."

The older brother stood anxiously and paced around the hole. His hand rested on his forehead, rubbing unconsciously. Okay, okay, need to get to Sam. Ropes in the trunk...shit, ropes in the trunk...shit, shit, shit."

He crouched back down and looked down at the shaggy head. A cold breeze whipped across his face. He needed to get to Sam...now.

"SAM, I got to go get the rope, buddy. You hear me little brother?" Dean shouted. When Sam voiced no response, his anxiety cranked up another notch.

"Okay, Sammy, I'll be right back kiddo. Sammy, can you hear me?"

Still no response... He hated to leave his injured brother, but he had no other choice.

Dean pushed reluctantly to stand and noticed the little ghost had reappeared; face now hovering next to his. He watched as she sat down on the snow covered grass, crossing her legs, and patting down her raggedy dress. She gazed wide eyed down into the hole. She nodded her head slowly at Dean and motioned for him to go. A ghost is watching out for Sam. Will wonders never cease? Dean gave her a faint, but heart felt smile and ran.

-0-

He ran faster than he thought was possible, his heart beating loudly in his chest as he panted for oxygen. Get to the car, get the rope and back to Sam...to the car, back to Sam. Back to Sam...back to Sam. His feet thudded against the ground, body jarring with his steady movement. Taking too long...taking too long...Sam, Sam, Sam.

Finally, the Impala came into view. Dean skidded to a halt; key thrusting into the lock and pulling open the trunk. His fingers clamored for the rope, hands yanking the item free. He snatched up Sam's red backpack and stuffed the first aide kit inside. He grabbed up a flashlight, a bottle of water, and a blanket, pushing them hastily inside. He slammed the heavy metal trunk shut and huffed out an icy puff of air, and then he ran.

-0-

Sam woke sluggishly. He was cold, body shivering. It was dark and he could barely see. Where am I? He looked straight up, a pale face peering down at him from above. Dean? He blinked to steady his unclear vision, not sure what he was even looking at. He furrowed his brows in confusion as his head lulled slowly on his neck.

"Dean..." he whimpered, a low guttural moan escaping from his lips. Intense pain gripped at his leg, and he shifted, curling to his side on the hard, cold ground.

Something brushed against Sam's face and his eyes blinked blearily open. Large wide eyes were looking at him, a tiny hand patting him lightly on the cheek. His head shifted slightly, eyeing the child with trepidation. He wanted to move away, but he couldn't find the energy.

-0-

"Sammy?" Dean's hands gripped the rope tightly. His head turned to look quickly over his shoulder and down at his still brother. He quickly descended the rope, jumping the last six feet as his boots pounded to the cold ground.

Sam flinched, a light thump reverberating next to his head.

"Sammy?" Dean dropped the backpack and pulled out the flashlight, flipping it on and resting it against the ground.

Sam's eyes blinked sluggishly. The light was brighter, an iridescent glow that melded around a fuzzy face above him.

"Hey, Sammy, open your eyes. Look at me...right now." Dean's voice boomed in Sam's ear.

Sam recognized a direct order when he heard it, and he forced open half mast lids, attempting to focus on the blurry face.

"Dean," he slurred.

"Yeah kiddo, it's me, how'ya do'n?"

Dean's voice was masked with concern as he rested his hand tentatively on Sam's forehead, then cascaded it through Sam's disheveled hair.

Sam gasped when gentle fingers hit the large knot that rested on the side of his head, just behind his ear.

"Sorry" Dean whispered in a comforting voice. He was relieved to find a large knot, but no blood behind the messy hair. Kid took a hell of hit on the head...okay, okay....what else? His fingers passed lightly over Sam's arms, his little brother gasping when he touched his left wrist. He pulled the flashlight up from the floor to shine it on the swollen appendage. Although it looked bad, it didn't look broken, just badly wrenched.

"Easy kiddo," a warm, familiar hand squeezed comfortingly against Sam's arm and he smiled weakly up at his big brother. He leaned into the presence as he felt a warm blanket folded lightly against his chest. Its okay now, Dean's here.

"...m'dizzy..." the younger brother mumbled.

"Concussion ...you're in shock, lie still."

Dean's hand pushed flat against Sam's chest holding his little brother steady. He looked down and bit his lower lip, holding back a gasp. Sam's leg looked bad. The bone was broken, piercing up through the blood drenched blue jean. It was a clean break. The first aide kit had a temporary splint...but how to get him out of here? Okay, okay, Winchester, one thing at a time.

"You got a concussion, a sprained rest, and a broken leg, anything else hurt'n little brother?" Moss green eyes looked intently at Sam.

"N...N...No..." Sam stuttered out as tears made uneven paths down his pale face.

"Shush....take it easy...It'll be okay, I promise."

Dean's concerned smile covered the deep worry that etched across his face. He moved the light around and reached for the first aid kid.

Sam's eyelids drooped.

"Hey, hey, hey....Sammy, stay with me, look at me." Dean's panic stricken voice reverberated in the hole.

-0-

Ten minute later and Sam's leg was splinted, wrist wrapped, and he was physically leaning against the dirt wall. The gruff army blanket was tucked tightly around his shivery limbs. His sluggish hazels watched Dean as he moved with the flashlight around the hole, light flashing from one spot to another. He looked intently at the rope that swung above his fuzzy head; he glanced upward, wishing they could just go back the way he came. Dean was adamant though; there was no why Sam could climb back out.

Dean's eyes glanced around the area, anxiety rising in his chest. I need get Sam out of here. Last resort, he would have to leave Sam here, climb back up, and go get help. But, it was not something he really wanted to do.

"Well, Alice, looks like you got yourself in quite a predicament here." Dean said good-humoredly as he shuffled around the dark, the flashlight bouncing off the dirt and rocks.

Sam watched silently, lids blinking at half mast.

"Hey...stay awake."

Sam's eyes grew wider as his brothers words filtered through to his brain, "I'm 'Kay," he mumbled.

"Shit," Dean muttered, "It's so damn dark down here - I can't see a freakin' thing."

He slid down on his knees again next to Sam, his fingers caressing through his unruly hair.

"Shhhhh, Sammy, you just rest. I'll figure this out". He watched as Sam's heavy eyelids closed, his breath evening out as his sluggish eyelids closed.

Dean chewed on his lower lip. God, I've been such an ass to him. I am so sorry Sam.

Chapter Three

Faith

Moisture welled against Dean's green eyes and he hastily blinked it away. Where are angels when you need them? His callused fingers rubbed gently against the pale cheek, his little brother's face marked with pain lines as his body shuddered beneath the tattered blanket. There was no way his broken brother was climbing back up that damn rope. His fingers pushed Sam's bangs back away from his eyes, and then his hand brushed lightly down the side of Sam's head. He wished he could just take the pain away. God, what was he going to do?

He pushed to stand, and spun around, piercing green eyes gaping into the darkness. He tilted the flashlight and peered around the hole. The space was larger than he had originally thought. The low light beam bounced across the rocky ground as he moved with caution around the area.

A red ribbon caught his eye, and he moved closer. He kneeled down beside it, callus fingers pulling and tugging it gingerly from the dirt. It was attached to a tattered white dress among a mass of small bones. A little teddy bear lay nestled among the remains. He grimaced; it was the missing child, the one that had disappeared. He heaved in a gulp of dank air as realization settled in his gut. She had fallen down this hole, broken her leg, just like Sam. He shuddered. The poor little girl must have been scared to death, no flashlight or big brother to save her. While he was relieved he had found the bones, this was certainly not what he had planned for this hunt.

Easy salt and burn he had said. No big deal he had told Sam. Yeah, right.

A pasty grey face with huge dark eyes suddenly wavered in front of him. He stumbled backwards falling flat to the ground on his butt.

"Gees kid, would you quit doing that." He muttered.

He moved the beam of light until it cascaded across her little face. Large wide eyes looked curiously at him. A smile curled to transparent lips as her head nodded in a silent motion.

Dean shook his head in amazement. She was just a scared little girl, not an angry spirit. He smiled at the memory of a six-year-old Sammy, all wide eyed and innocent coming to mind. He gazed forlornly at the faltering form. It was sad, really, she was just a baby, a lost kid who fell down a hole, broke her leg, and died there. No one came to save her. He sighed wearily. It was heartbreaking, and it would be Sammy's fate too if he didn't do something quick.

Sam moaned, and Dean moved hastily back to his side.

"Sammy?"

Unfocused eyes blinked open to half mast and gazed up at Dean.

"'urts D'n," Sam wheezed through clinched teeth.

"It's okay kiddo, just breath through it."

Sam's breathe came in short pants as his body road out the pain, "Sorry," he murmured.

Dean's brow furrowed at his injured baby brother, "For what?"

Sam floundered; the sharp pain throbbed up his leg into his hip. He grunted, bucking and arching beneath the tattered blanket, head twisting to and fro. His face was covered in perspiration, his eyes glazed over with the pain.

"Easy, easy…you need to lie still." Dean's gentle voice cooed. His left hand patted lightly on the top of the blanket, his right hand resting on Sam's warm forehead.

"What'cha got to be sorry for Sammy?" Dean's voice was firm, but kind as he continued to comfort his little brother.

"Bugging you," Fog laden eyes blinked up at Dean.

"Sam, you're not bugging me. You can't help it you fell down a hole chasing some freak'n ghost." Dean said almost heatedly. Damn ghost girl hurting his little brother. His agile fingers tugged Sam's blanket back up around his chin. He watched as pale lips curled slightly, Sam recognizing his older brother's anger for what it was - the desire to protect him.

"N…no…s'ry been bug'n you 'bout t...time in hell." Sam wheezed out shakily.

"Sam, don't do that, just don't…" Dean's green eyes shimmered.

"I w...w...wan' a 'elp you, D'n, you're m...my brother." Sammy stuttered, body shuddering unkindly in a wave of pain.

"Sam…it's just hard, you know. It's…it's just something I got to work it out on my own, buddy." His hand patted Sam's chest lightly.

"Mmmmm," Sam blinked owlishly at his older brother's face. He grimaced as his face contorted up in a pain. His hand latched onto Dean's wrist and held on tightly.

"Easy…." Dean sighed, gripping Sam's hand in his own. He watched as Sam's body arched slightly and then succumbed to the pain, falling limply back toward oblivion.

Dean squeezed the now lax fingers and tucked them back beneath the cover. He tugged his hand through his short cropped hair. He stood up and brushed off his jeans. God, I've been so stupid, such an ass. He squinted, eyes straining around in the darkness. He didn't know how yet, but he was getting Sammy the hell out of here – now!

-0-

A heavy knot rested against Dean's chest. He didn't want to leave Sam to go for help, but it was looking more and more like that was exactly what he was going to have to do. He hesitated; not wanting to roam to far from his injured little brother. He had figured out the hole was more like a cave, a cave that maybe had an opening that they could get out of. He flipped the flashlight back over to the corner to see Sam's pale face still silent beneath the frayed blanket, a light perspiration now beading on his brow.

He felt a cold breeze settle across the back of his neck and his hair stood on end. He turned his head to gaze at the apparition. The ghostly child stood once more by his side staring keenly at Sam. Little fingers motioned for Dean, beckoning him to follow. What does this ghost girl want, holy crap, I don't have time for this. He glanced back at Sam, and then looked reluctantly at the ghost. Maybe she knows a way out?

-0-

"Sammy," Dean tapped lightly against Sam's pale cheek and waited. He watched as unfocused, pain filled eyes tugged slowly open.

"Listen Sam," Dean said softly, "I'm going to see if I can get us out of here. Here's the flashlight."

Sam felt the light being tucked into his lax fingers, patted tightly against his chest.

"M'kay," Sam mumbled as he looked at Dean with hooded lids, "I'm fine."

Dean frowned unhappily, pulling his fingers through Sam's damp bangs and pushing them off his face. "Sure you are little brother." He watched as Sam's eyes drifted closed. Turning promptly, he looked at the tiny ghost.

"Show me how to get out of here?" he pleaded, green eyes almost begging the ghostly figure.

The apparition moved quickly into the darkness, white dress illuminated hauntingly around her. She turned one final time and motioned for Dean to follow.

Taking one last look at Sam, Dean pulled his cigarette lighter from his pocket and flipped it on. He stepped steadily up behind the small wavering child, hoping with all his heart that she was showing him a way out.

-0-

Dean stumbled along with the dim light from the lighter flicking against the walls. His breath heaved as he attempted to keep up with the fast moving apparition. He was moving further and further from Sam, and it was making him nervous. He was just about to turn back when he saw a low light way off in the distance. His feet shuffled faster beneath him as he began to jog toward the opening. The little ghost was running too, large smile resting on her face.

"Thank god." Dean voiced loudly as he saw the graying sky. He grinned happily at the apparition as she twirled happily around in a circle, tattered white dress dancing in her wake.

Dean turned and ran back inside the cave, boots thudding on the hard ground as he made his way back to Sam, the lighter's flame wavering in the wind.

"Sammy, I found a way out." He yelled, his voice echoing in he darkness.

-0-

Sam's eye lashes fluttered as Dean eased up to stand next to the bed.

"Come on Sammy, open up those hazels," the older brother whispered. He gripped his unconscious brother's forearm, thumb rubbing lightly against his wrist.

Sam blinked, body still floating on a puffy cloud of pain relievers.

Dean smiled as Sam's pupils seemed to focus, confused look settling on his face.

"Dean?"

"It's okay Sammy, you're in a hospital. Remember?"

"Huh?"

"You fell down the rabbit hole - Alice…Remember? You broke your leg."

Sam's face fell to look at the white caste that adorned his left leg just below the kneecap. His memory was sluggish at best, vague thoughts of falling, and pain, and thinking about dying flitting through his brain. He looked stupidly back at his brother.

"Well, you hit your head too." Dean offered up as a grin rolled to his lips.

"How long," Sam's asked gruffly, unused vocal chords attempting to adjust to being awake.

"Two days ago…and I had to carry your ass out of there. You're on a diet, salad boy." Dean chuckled, "You weigh a freaking ton."

Sam shrugged tiredly, sluggish eyelids falling closed.

"Jerk," he mumbled as the lull of medicated slumber began to pull him under.

"Bitch."

A light smile pulled to Sam's lips as he drifted off to sleep.

-0-

The rope fell silently down inside the hole as Sam leaned to peer downward toward the bottom.

"Man, that's a long way down."

"First steps a do-see, huh Sam," Dean said cockily as his fingers gripped the cord. He gazed smugly across at his little brother.

Sam shook his head at Dean's little joke, grin curling to his lips. He tugged at the crutches he had clutched beneath his arms, booted leg curled up behind him as he swayed lightly.

"We could've walked in through the cave entrance you brought me out of," he offered.

"Nah, the bones are right down here, easy and quick."

"That's what you said last time," Sam mumbled.

Dean snorted. He swung his body down against the inside of the hole, fingers gripping to the rope. He grinned at his brother. "Ya wan' a come with?" He asked overeagerly, emerald green eyes shinning.

"Funny," Sam rolled his eyes. Like he could go down that rope with a caste on his leg, his body slumped slowly downward, crutches falling from his hands as he let his long legs dangle into the hole and his blue jean covered bottom hit the ground.

Dean slowly descended the rope, eyes glancing down to the floor below.

"Be careful," Sam whispered above him.

He pulled his head back up to gaze at Sam; his brother's booted foot encompassing a large part of the opening. He smiled to himself.

-0-

Dean's boots thudded to the cold dirt floor, his eyes shifting around the darkness of the cave. He flicked on his flashlight and let the low glow illuminate the area. He yanked the salt, kerosene, and matches from his backpack and dropped them to the ground. His eyes squinted as they glared at the small pile of bones, right were they had been when he made his mad rush to get Sammy out of the cave.

"You okay down there." Sam's voice bellowed from above.

"I'm find dude."

Sam sat back, listening to his brothers fumbling around below him. He felt a light prickle of cool air as it slithered down his neck and he pulled his head up to look around the clearing. He hadn't brought a gun; Dean said they didn't need one, that this ghost was friendly. Sam wasn't so confident.

A sudden gust of wind and the child apparition wavered right in front of him, wide dark eyes staring down at him.

She was just a baby, he thought. She frowned unhappily. Uh Oh?

"Deaannnn, she doesn't look too happy," Sam yelled as he clamored for his crutches.

"Holy crap Sam, she's a three foot tall ghost. If she was going to hurt you, she would have done it when you fell down the damn hole." Dean voice boomed back up through the opening.

"What do I need to do?" Sam asked loudly.

Dean rolled his eyes, fingers numbly dumping the kerosene and salt on the bones.

"She's a little kid Sammy, just smile and talk nice to her."

Sam flinched as she came closer. He gazed intently at the little ghost girl. He released his grip on the crutches and held his hands out, palms open.

"Its okay honey, we're here to help you." He smiled warmly at the small girl. I hope this works. He proceeded to chew on his lower lip.

"Okay, Sammy, I'm torch'n her." Dean's voice carried back up the hole.

The small girl looked confused, her wide eyes gaping from the hole and back to Sam. Suddenly she giggled silently and twirled around in front of him. She mouthed the words thank you as she grinned and danced around.

Sam's smiled brightly and relaxed.

As the bones went up in smoke, the tiny apparition twirled and waned before slowly fading away, a clear smile resting on her little face.

"You still okay up here," Dean's voice sounded closer and Sam moved his head from the disappearing apparition to look at his older brother.

Dean bounded up and out of the hole and began to coil the rope around this arm, bundling it back together.

"Was she happy?" he asked Sam quizzically.

Sam replied softly, "I think she was."

"Good," the older brother offered. "She just needed someone to look out for her, that's what it's all about." Dean said as he bundled the rope inside his overstuffed backpack.

"Yeah, I think you're right." Sam smiled.

Dean grinned brightly at Sam. He realized he had almost lost Sam on this hunt, and that was never happening again, not on his watch. It was time for him to move forward, have faith in the future, and put the past to rest.

THE END!

17