Disclaimer: If I owned Sam and Dean do you think I'd be writing right now?

Note: Please remember that this takes the place of the season finale.

The thought that ran through Sam's head at that moment was: I can't do this.

Sam stood over his own father, aiming a gun at his head. Now, normally on any given day he had never really been his father's favorite son, nor had John been Sam's ideal father. He had pretty much ruined the Atticus Fitch routine when he had decided to make the family business hunting ghosts. But never had Sam ever considered murder an option to deal with his family issues.

No, this was not John Winchester. And Sam could not let this demon taking advantage of his father's body see his weakness, could not let him know that Sam would never be able to pull the trigger.

His father---- no, not his father, he had to remember that----- laid on the ground, ailing from the gunshot wound on his leg. Dean had done that after 'John' had thrown Sam against a wall. Dean also was unwilling to shoot their father, but it had always been crossing a line when someone tried to kill his brother.

Dean himself was not faring much better. Currently he lay on the floor, holding his shoulder from when 'John' had thrown a knife at him.

How the shot to the leg had affected John, Sam didn't know. When Meg had fallen seven stories she returned without a scratch. Being possessed had granted her almost immortality. The most logical explanation was that whatever was controlling John must not have granted John that particular attribute. It didn't care about whether or not John was injured, as long as he took Sam and Dean down with it.

Dean himself didn't know what to do. He certainly didn't support the idea of killing John. To kill whatever was in him would kill their father in the process. Dean couldn't lose his father. But he also knew that he liked to live, and whatever this was, the asshole wasn't giving up.

The entire past two days had been a living hell. Meg's exorcism had gone fine in the beginning. They had managed to get the demon out of Meg's body. Aside from seeming mildly traumatized, she seemed fine and they had left her with Bobby. They headed off to the place she had specified their father was being held.

John was not, as they had originally believed, dead. Realizing that John needed immediate medical attention, they had wasted no time getting him to the car. As Dean loaded him in, something hit Sam. Hard.

Dean immediately cursed and ran to his brother's aid. This guy was new, but just by guessing they assumed he was with Meg.

Dean ended up having to use one of the precious Colt bullets. Nothing else was working on him, and hesitating any further would have been dangerous for Sam's health.

Heading back to the car, Sam cried out for Dean. John was gone, vanished in the time they had spent on the other demon who had been a mere distraction. They had hit a dead end again.

Heading back to Bobby's house, they were met with a blockade. Parking the car on the curb, they climbed out just as a fire truck drove by, emergency lights blaring loudly.

Both simultaneously felt their stomachs climb into their throats. This could not be happening.

Getting a closer view, they were met with an almost-extinguished building.

Dean walked up to get a closer view and overheard a bit of conversation. He picked up on a police officer saying "no one reported as being in the house at the time. We didn't find anybody."

"That bitch! She was lying the entire time!" Turning around he saw Sam, who had gotten back into the car, sitting with head in his hands, his forehead scrunched, face pale as he slowly rocked back and forth as if to ease some pain he was ailing from.

"Sam!" Dean opened the door. "Sam, this was not our fault. There was nothing we could have done to stop this." Sam didn't look up.

"Sam!" Dean repeated, shaking his unresponsive brother. Sam remained tensed, his eyes looking surprisingly blank. It was then that Dean realized. Sam was having another vision.

"Come on, Sam. Snap out of it!" Sam didn't so much as blink.

About thirty seconds later, Sam took a great gasp of air. Still looking pale, he got out of the passenger seat shakily without a word.

"Dean. Keys."

"What?"

"I know where to find Meg and dad."


"So tell me this again." Dean said in the car. "Meg called upon the demon herself?"

"I don't know the exact details, but somehow she wanted power. She felt her life had no meaning or something." Sam looked like he either had a major headache (which was normal after his visions) or he had something else on his mind. "I think I might have read her mind. That's sort of the only way to explain it."

It was the strangest sensation Sam had ever experienced. His own thoughts hadn't even been his own, voices speaking to him in commanding tones. He could still see what was coming in the future, but it hadn't felt quite so straghtforward. Sam had the vision while still inside Meg's mind. And Sam knew that Meg could tell. It was as if she was guiding him through the vision, showing him what would come.

"Did you see anything else in this vision?" Dean asked, trying to be casual about it. He knew there was something else. He couldn't explain it but it was some sort of brother thing. It might also have something to do with the fact that Sam was a lousy liar.

"No." Dean wasn't so slow as to not pick up on the bit of hesitation before he replied. Dean tried really hard to not push it, but Sam gave in first.

"Look, Dean. If something happens, I want you to know---" Sam started. He couldn't tell Dean outright.

"Oh my god, Sam! I knew it! Didn't we already have this conversation last night? Nothing's going to happen, alright? Not while I'm there! And as for me? You also had a vision that Max shot me, remember? I had my trusty psychic geekboy with me and I'm here right now, aren't I?"

"But Dean---"

"I don't want to hear it, Sam," Dean insisted, leaving no room for arguement.

Sam dropped it. Sam knew Dean couldn't help him with this one. It wasn't something anyone could help. It was Sam's decision and he knew what he was going to have to do.


"Do you think you can do it? Can you shoot your own father?" the thing inhabiting John's body said, mocking Sam's thoughts. Sam was reminded painfully of another situation very similar to this one. Except in that case all he could think about was pure hatred. Pure, all-consuming hatred. Under the influence of an insane asylum doctor, it was easy to pull the trigger. Not that he didn't try to fight it. He did. It was just too much.

"Am I interrupting anything?" said a voice from the doorway. Meg stood in the doorway, though Sam didn't take his eyes off of 'John.'

"Great, the bitch is back," said Dean, still on the floor, propping himself up on his good arm.

Ignoring him, Meg strode toward Sam. "Oh, you can take the gun off him. That was mainly for Dean anyway, we couldn't have him interfering. And for amusement. We didn't want to hurt you, though, Sammy. You're too important." She let the words hang in the air, lettng them sink in. Sam's only reaction that showed any emotion at all was to flinch when Meg had used the name 'Sammy'.

"You put up a better fight than I thought you'd be capable of," she continued in a voice like poisoned-honey, letting the sarcasm drip off her words. "I never guessed you'd be able to shoot your own father, even if it was in the leg. He's served his purpose; he doesn't need to be part of this conversation." John started to lose consciousness as the creature possessing him slowly released its hold.

"What do you mean, you didn't want to hurt him?" Dean asked from the corner. He was concerned that Sam didn't look too shocked.

"I think you know what I mean, Sam." She said. Sam had lowered the gun, though he seemed perfectly willing to use it if needed. He still didn't look the least bit shocked.

"Sam, you son-of-a-bitch! You saw this in your vision, didn't you?" Dean yelled.

"You didn't want to hear it," Sam said, the dead tone of his voice only making the bile rise even firther in Dean's throat.

"Oh, so you didn't know? Oh, this is going to be fun!"

"Meg, just get it on with," Sam said quietly.

"Alright. I only learned recently that as of now, my master's main priority is you, Sam. He believes you could be a great asset to us after a bit of 'persuasion'. So I'm here to offer you his deal." Sam looked on with no visible emotion playing on his face.

"Now, I would prefer just to take you by force, but we can't take the risk of harming you. Dean here and your dear father are a different matter. Now here's the deal. You love your brother, right?"

Sam nodded without hesitation.

"And you know that we will never stop hunting you or them no matter what. We will never give up until they die slowly and painfully. Unless you take our offer. You cooperate and come with us."

"No!" Dean said forcefully. Both Sam and Meg ignored him. Sam had turned to face Meg and they were both staring hard at each other.

"If you do, we will let both your brother and father go free. They can go off and live their own lives. They can continue to hunt petty little spooks if they want. Dean can go off and get married or, god forbid, have children. They can live normal lives. Except without you."

"Sam, don't listen to this bitch! We can do this together. You don't have to do this!" He couldn't believe this was happening. His baby brother was considering sacrificing himself for Dean. This was not how things were supposed to happen. Sam didn't even look him in the eyes when he responded.

"I tried to tell you, Dean. This is my decision to make. You told me mom and Jess weren't coming back. I couldn't save them. It was too late. It's not too late now, Dean. You said revenge wasn't worth dying for. You are."

"How touching. So is that a yes, Sam?"

"Do I get any say in this," Dean added.

"No," Meg responded simply. "I need an answer, Sam. Otherwise..." She pulled her gun out and aimed it directly at Dean.

"No!" Dean yelled. "Sam, listen to me, dammit! You know it's no good! I'm not going to abandon you." Dean was desperate. He had meant it, what he had said the previous night. He had lost too many people already. He couldn't lose Sam, too. Sam still couldn't meet his eyes. Sam knew it was true, that Dean would never give up on him.

"That's a yes," he said, his voice pained, the emotion finally breaking through the surface. "Dean, please." He looked up into Dean's eyes. Sam had decided a long time ago that he was going to follow through on his vision. He tried to convey through his eyes what he had never been able to say because it had felt too awkward or Dean had made a smartass comment. Foremost in those communications, he was saying 'I love you. Please, just accept why I'm doing this.'

"Dean, I'm so sorry. But please, don't come after me."

"It's time to go now, Sam," Meg said. "All this emotional shit is really starting to make me nauseous."

In response Sam simply dropped the gun to the floor. The sound reminded Dean of a judge returning a sentence of death. Dean still had the Colt, but the shock seemed to have blocked his common sense.

As Meg roughly shoved Sam through the door, Sam didn't fight. It was at that point where Dean finally found his voice.

"Sammy….." The voice he heard came out as a whisper. He half expected---he hoped---- that Sam would turn around and correct him. He wanted Sam to turn around and tell him, in his normal annoyed voice, "It's Sam." But he didn't.

He turned his head slightly and said "I love you too, Dean."

And then he was gone, and the room immediately seemed more empty, more quiet, more cold.

There were about thirty seconds where Dean couldn't move. He kept thinking Sam is gone. Sam is gone. Then, as his head started to clear, his thoughts moved to, 'Meg has my brother. That bitch has my baby brother.'

Dean had reached a decision. Sam had asked him not to go looking for him. Hell if Dean was going to listen to that. They couldn't have gotten far yet.

Reassuring himself that John was stable and that Meg and co. no longer needed him, he staggered out to the Impala. He was going to find Sammy.

His fingers fumbling a bit, it took him awhile to get the key in the ignition.

Dammit, Dean. You're never going to get anywhere like that.

As he started the car, his head felt like it was going to split open. He'd had serious head injuries before, but he'd always been able to see this part coming before. Despair started to take over before he heard that voice, seeming to resonate in his own head.

"DEAN!" It said. Sam had only been gone for about ten minutes but it felt like hours to Dean. Even in his head, his heart soared at Sam's voice. Still, he couldn't help thinking How the hell did he do that? He's never been able to do that before.

"Dean, listen to me! I warned you not to do this! GET OUT OF THE CAR!"

He wasn't going to give up on Sam that easily. Not sure how to respond, he simply replied to thin air, "I don't think so, Sam."

"You don't understand! GET OUT OF THE DAMN CAR NOW, DEAN!"

That was when he saw it. The huge semi was heading straight for his beloved Impala, and he was still inside. Yanking the door open, he threw himself outside just as he heard a sickening crash. Something hit him hard on the head and before his consciousness dissolved into blackness he saw the headlights turning away from him, taking his baby brother with it.

Author's Note: By the time anybody reads this, it's probably after the finale. I think I may continue this, but I'm not too sure of the plotline yet. (still working on it) Review please!