Sorry for the delay in the final chapter, re-started University this week and things have been a little crazy; but things should be back on track now.

Alas, this is the final chapter of 'Forsaken'. Thanks to those who have come on board this journey with the Winchesters and a sincere thank you to all of those who were kind enough to send this girl some reviews and wonderful comments of inspiration.

There WILL be a story to follow/continue with the boys' journey onwards, and obviously with the premier airing this week, the work will be from my own world; so those still trying to stay spoiler free in other parts of the world- you'll be safe. The story is called 'Lying In Wait' and will start later this week.

Thanks again to all those who have reviewed it's always greatly appreciated.

Chapter Twelve- Forsaken

Dean Winchester sat on the motel bed, which lay just a couple feet away from the bed his younger brother lay asleep on.

Ok, so he'd managed to get them out of the hospital, unseen and unnoticed. He'd managed to get his barely conscious brother into the Impala, ignored the look of horror that had been etched across Sam's face when he'd lay his heavily drugged eyes on the vehicle that had almost killed his family.

Dean had not had the time to deal with his little brother's mental disturbance, so instead had shoved a protesting Sam into the back and slammed the door on him before his drug induced little man could utter another word.

Before they'd even pulled out the parking lot, Sam had already fallen asleep, leaving Dean alone with his own damning thoughts. Dean needed a distraction, he needed one badly.

So that's what Dean was concentrating on right now. Distracting himself.

He took another swig from the almost empty bottle of Corona and placed it down quietly on the nightstand. He knew it wasn't the perfect answer, but it was only answer he could afford right now. Besides, maybe an alcohol induced nap might allow his over active brain to switch off and actually allow him to sleep.

Sleep. When was the last time Dean had actually had some. It seemed like a foreign concept to him at the moment, but the yawn that escaped his mouth told him that perhaps sleep wasn't as foreign as he thought it was. Staring longingly at the other queen sized bed in the room; Dean drew the conclusion that maybe sleep wasn't such a bad idea. Sitting himself back onto the bed, he reached down to undo his boots, and then paused.

He had to check on Sam.

Had to make sure he was just sleeping and not, well, not the other thing.

..He wouldn't….Dean told himself as he found his body moving off the bed.

He crept around towards Sam and leaned down over his brother, hoping the shadow he was casting over him wouldn't alarm his little brother.

Dean watched him sleeping, listening as his breathing remained even, steady and strong. He looked at the dark circles still embedded around Sam's eyes, the paleness of his skin, and the amount of weight his little brother had lost. He was alive, that was pretty much obvious, but from the looks of it, he was barely with his big brother.

Yet Dean wasn't satisfied with what he was seeing. His hand shaking, he reached down and gently touched Sam's hair, stroking it off his forehead. Dean stared at his shaking hand, why was he so jumpy..? Maybe it was the three beers he had had, or maybe it was something else.

.I'm going friggin nuts here…. Dean thought to himself, as his hand continued to stroke Sam's hair.

Perhaps he was being a little rough as the movements roused Sam, which was the reaction Dean didn't want. He instantly withdrew his hand. He wasn't in the mood for having that conversation with Sam.

The conversation where Sam would want an explanation to Dean's bizarre request of trust, and a reason for their sudden and abrupt exit from the hospital. The conversation where Sam would demand to know why Dean was behaving the way he was, why he'd been barely sane in the hospital room and why his older brother was at war with his own sanity.

And yet Dean had managed to wake Sam up, and soon, Dean found himself staring into a set of sleepy hazel eyes.

"You ok..?" Sam asked his older brother, unable to keep the worry out of his voice.

"It's funny how you're always asking me that…" Dean said with a dry chuckle.

"You've been drinking…" Sam muttered, as he struggled himself into a sitting position, which sapped the small amount of energy Sam had from his tired body. He could smell the beer off his brother and it made him feel ill.

"Just a little bit of self medication Sammy…" Dean reassured him, although Dean was surprised at the amount of guilt he felt.

"I know, I was just saying…" Sam said with a shrug, "It's not like you…"

"Yeah, well things are changing around here anyway…" Dean said matter of fact style, "Don't get too attached to the décor in here, we're moving out as soon as daylight breaks…"

Sam glanced at the time, it was almost 5am.

"Have you had any sleep yet..?" Sam demanded, as he swung his exhausted legs over the end of the bed.

Dean watched him do this with wide tired eyes. His hand automatically grabbed Sam's arm.

"What are you doing..?" Dean demanded, as he kept hold of Sam's arm, not allowing him to stand up.

" I'm gonna get a glass of water..." Sam admitted as he looked at Dean's hand, "And then maybe I might go take up hand gliding from the roof..."

Dean's hand dropped away from his brother and he abruptly stalked away from Sam's bed.

"Can the sarcasm..." Dean muttered, as he walked back to the night stand and downed what remained of his beer.

"Sarcasm...?" Sam said in a weary voice, "Dean, you want us to leave at day break, which should be an about an hours time..."

"God you're a friggin geek even when you're barely conscious..." Dean said in disbelief.

"Shut it Dean..." Sam said pointedly, "I want answers to my questions.."

"Not now.." Dean muttered as he sat with his back to his brother staring at the door.

Maybe he could just get up and run straight through it, climb into the Impala and drive. Drive far away and get away from everything. Get away from the memories that haunted his head, the images that were ingrained on his soul, and the feelings that shivered through him twenty four hours a day.

Dean wished he could get away from it all.

"Dean..!" Sam said his voice loud enough to break through into Dean's beer-fogged brain.

Dean finally turned and looked at his younger brother.

God he looked awful. Too awful. Dean couldn't take this anymore, he'd only run away from the hospital little over five hours ago and he already couldn't cope. He was scared, scared he'd make a mistake and cost Sam his life, he was scared that he wouldn't recognise some sort of medical sign and Sam would die and Dean would just have to watch.

Dean shuddered at the thought and hopped to his feet, which only seemed to panic Sam further.

"Dean please, I don't have the strength to follow you around the room and the speed you're pacing at..." Sam said his voice drained and tired, "Dude we're gonna have to pay for a new floor..."

"I just thought..." Dean mumbled, "I just want things to go back to how they were..."

"Then how about you stop pacing and come and sit down and tell me what on earth is going on..." Sam pleaded. "Where's dad Dean, I don't understand what's going on anymore..."

Dean stared at his brother's face. There was the question again. How long could he continue to ignore Sam, or evade answering the question..? Knowing Sammy, not very long at all. Drugged to the eyeballs or not, Sam was no fool, not when it came to Dean.

It was the lies Dean couldn't deal with.

And it looked like he was about to tell another one to his brother.

Dean quietly sucked in his breath and pleaded to whoever was listening to forgive him...


Sam Winchester studied Dean's behaviour.

This wasn't the same brother Sam had grown up with and had been around most his life. Sure enough he'd left Dean behind when he'd gone off to college for two years, but still, Sam couldn't understand where this behaviour was coming from.

It was too erratic.

Dean's behaviour was swinging from superhero to barely clinging onto his own sanity. He was going from the usual nothing could bother me swagger; to the, I'm barely coping here. Sam wasn't sure what to make of it; he was beginning to wonder if the medication he was on was simply causing him to see things that weren't really there. Maybe Dean was just being Dean; over friggin protective.

But the whole taking him out of the hospital. That hadn't made sense.

Then finding the very thing that almost claimed the life of your brother and father sitting cheerfully outside in the parking lot without a scratch on her. Yeah, Sam was beginning to think that medication he was under was perhaps taking him off into a funny world. After all, the Impala had been a wreak. Sam ought to know, he was the only one who had seen the car after the crash. And yet, it was sitting all clean, and in one driveable piece in the hospital parking lot.

Who had fixed it..? John was good, but he wasn't that good. After all, who could fix a car in that state in just a day...? Sam didn't know cars the way his father and brother did, but he knew common sense. That car had been a big job, yet according to Dean, John had been with them the whole time.

That bought Sam to another question.

Where was John Winchester..?

Dean had ducked that question so many times since they'd arrived in one of the worse

motels they'd ever stayed in. The only plus point to the rotting hell hole, was the fact that there were beds inside and a roof over there heads.

However answering this question for some reason seemed to be beyond Dean at the moment. Sam wanted answers, needed answers. Dean had no idea how much Sam needed their father there with them.

Sam had grown up always knowing that out of him and his brother he'd always been the one looking into their world of hunting. He'd spent most of his life knowing that his father didn't approve of what he did. Normal lives did not work for the Winchester family, and as long as Sam continued to fight for a normal life, the fights with his father would always continue.

How true was that?….Sam thought miserably.

This time was different. This time it was completely and utterly different. Sam had never needed to speak to his father more desperately than the way he did now.

This wasn't like an ordinary hunt that had gone wrong. This was the, hunt. The big one. The one this family had been waiting for, for over twenty-two years. The opportunity to avenge the death of the people they loved. John had issued possibly the most important order in his life, and yet Sam had chosen to ignore it. He hadn't been strong enough, he hadn't had the guts, and perhaps he hadn't wanted it bad enough.

The fact that Dean had been in the back ground telling him not to do it seemed irrelevant now. Sam had always made it known to both his father and brother that he had his own mind, so no blame or influence could be placed at Dean.

Sam had been the one to screw up.

He'd let the demon go, allowed it an escape route to slither out. Given the bastard a chance to regroup and hit the already fragile Winchester family at another time.

And it was all Sam's fault.

That's why Sam needed to see his father. Sam wasn't sure why he felt so desperate but he knew he needed to see him. To talk to him. To see if the hate he imagined would be in his father's eyes would really be there. To see if the venom he imagined his father would spit at him for failing would actually be true.

Sam's heart was sinking fast, his self esteem was already on the floor, and his confidence was non-existent.

The only thing stopping him from breaking down and crying like an injured four year old was Dean. Dean and his weird behaviour had side tracked Sam's emotional baggage and as long as Dean remained in this strange yo-yo mood, Sam was beginning to realise that he was going to have to keep an even closer eye on Dean.

Sam stared at Dean's face, waiting to hear his brother's explanation for where their father was this time.

Something was already dawning on Sam that this conversation was going to be interesting….


"What is with you and always wanting to know where dad is..?" Dean challenged, "He's not five and he's made it clear in the past Sam that he doesn't need us around..."

Sam's mouth dropped open. He couldn't believe Dean had said that.

"Whoa, where the heck did that come from…?" Sam demanded, he wished his voice sounded stronger than what it was, but truth was, he was just too weak.

"Look, Sam, it's just gonna be you and me for a little while ok..." Dean said in a rushed tone as he paced around the room again.

Sam stared at Dean; he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Dad's, gone..?" Sam whispered, "No, way, Dean…-"

"Look, he's got a lead or something and said he had to check some stuff out…" Dean said never looking at Sam, "So just chill ok, get some sleep and we'll take off later today..."

"Sleep..?" Sam demanded as he struggled again into a sitting position. "Dean, where is dad..? When did he leave..?"

"Just a few hours ago..." Dean lied as he paused at the window and stared out of it, "He told me to tell you to just get better…"

"Just get better..? That's it…?" Sam whispered unable to keep the hurt look out of his voice. "He didn't say anything else..?"

"What the hell do you want Sam..?" Dean shouted at him, Sam's hazel eyes growing wide at the out burst. "I told you what he said, now just swallow it and do what he asked for once in your friggin life…"

"Dean..!" Sam said in total surprise.

"Well if you'd done what you were friggin well supposed to do in the first place then we wouldn't even…-"Dean's voice trailed off, the words out his mouth before his brain had even kicked into gear.

Where on earth had that come from..?

Sam stayed silent to stun to say anything. Dean's face however said everything, as he rubbed his tired hands over his exhausted face.

"Sammy…." Dean said his voice barely even there, "I…"

Sam's eyes moved away from Dean, an awful strangled silence falling into the room. Dean could barely breathe; the walls were closing in on him. He had no idea what was happening to him but this wasn't how Dean Winchester behaved.

Before Sam could say anything to Dean, Dean grabbed his jacket and headed out the motel door…..


Pull yourself together…Dean snapped at himself, his anger brewing inside of him. He sat in the only other place he knew he could be safe in. His beloved Impala. Sitting in the driving seat his hands resting on the steering wheel, Dean was having trouble getting over what had taken place in the motel room.

He should not have talked to Sam that way. He was out of line. Normally he would have joked it off, and said something funny but for half a second, just a second he found his mind wondering something that hadn't even occurred to him.

Was this really Sam's fault..?

I mean it would explain why John had taken off the way he had; Sam had refused a direct order.

"What am I saying…" Dean muttered, "I told him not to do it.."

It was one of the only explanations that Dean could come up with. John had left them because they'd failed. He's taken off a year ago to find this demon without his children, and now, after Dean and Sam had persuaded him that they were stronger as a family, they had gone off hunting this thing together. They'd found it together.

And together they'd let the bastard go.

What have we done…. Dean thought….This thing is going to kill us….

The demon played the boys weakest link, each other.

Dean's hand reached for the glove box, opened it and pulled out his father's journal. Dean remembered the co-ordinates off his head; he'd check them up another time. Right now he was too angry to care about where they would take them.

Sam's not to be blamed; none of this is his fault. None of it…Dean told himself.

Sighing, the elder hunt stared at his motel room knowing that Sam was probably lying on the bed trying to make sense to his brother's behaviour. He was going to have to at least tell him part of this story. Just which part Dean wasn't sure.

Was Sam strong enough to know about the fact that their dad was gone without even a second thought about them. Was Sam strong enough to know that he'd died, come back from the dead and now had half a hospital looking for the miracle patient.

Was Sam strong enough to know that he was going to have to take it easy for quite a long time that hunts will have to be thrown to the back burner.

Dean swallowed; maybe he hadn't thought this through. Maybe he couldn't take care of Sam. While he may want to put hunting at a side for a little while, would evil be willing to let them do so..?

After all, now divided and injured, to Dean this was the perfect time for evil to attack. And if Dean knew evil the way he did, then an attack on them would be imminent.

Dean stared at the journal; he was going to have to hide this for a little while. Knowing Sammy, he'd want to go look for their dad, while at this moment; the last thing Dean wanted was to see their father.

Dean found a small smile hovering on his face as he thought of the irony. Only last year the roles had been reversed. It's funny what twelve months could do.

Dean would have done anything to find their father. Sam wanted to find their father and then kill the demon that had murdered his girlfriend and their mother. Sam had ignored his chance of revenge to save his father and Dean had simply lost his father.

Right now the only thing Dean felt when he thought about his father was abandoned, alone, forsakened….


Sam turned and looked at the motel door which opened quietly. Entering with a strange look on his face was Dean. On seeing Sam standing up, Dean looked about ready to pass out.

"What are you doing..?" Dean demanded hurrying to Sam's side.

"I'm getting a drink…" Sam muttered in frustration at how slow his body moved, " Can't find a glass…"

"Right…" Dean said moving to where he'd spotted the glasses earlier and filled it up with water.

Sam grudgingly took the glass from Dean. Sam studied the glass in his hand.

"Something wrong..?" Dean wondered looking at the face Sam wore.

"Just wondering if I should throw it at you or drink it…" Sam muttered tight lipped.

"Oh right, about...-"Dean started, about to brush it off as just him being a little tired.

"No, Dean, you tell me right now what is going on…!" Sam demanded his voice fierce, "What is this thing in my hair, why do you seem to know more what's wrong with me, than what I do..?"

"Look, you need to calm down Sam, now come on.." Dean said stretching out a hand to take Sam to the bed.

"This is calm…" Sam seethed, "Now spit it out Dean.."

Dean watched as Sam reluctantly moved towards one of the old chairs and sat down on it. Dean lent against the small table and studied his younger brother's face.

"You've been pretty ill…" Dean admitted his eyes now dropping to the floor, "You've been in a coma Sam for days…"

"How long..?" Sam whispered as he touched the back of his head gingerly, "Does that explain this..?"

"Yeah…" Dean said with a nod, "You had a blood clot some kind of haemorrhage, they had to operate to remove it and you just fell into coma…"

Dean stared at Sam's now quiet face.

"You taking all this in..?" Dean asked in a quizzical manner.

"I'm shocked, not stupid Dean…" Sam muttered as he placed the glass of water on the floor.

"Wow, at least the blood clot didn't remove your swanky sarcasm…" Dean muttered.

"It still doesn't explain why you literally dragged me out the hospital tonight..." Sam said in quietly. "You were scared Dean, you've been scared the whole time I've been awake.."

"I'm not scared..!" Dean protested, "I don't do sacred.."

"Apparently you don't do honesty either..." Sam mumbled.

"Don't be like that…" Dean said in a small voice, "You don't know how hard this is for me Sam…"

"Then make me understand…" Sam pleaded, "Dean I'm standing on the sidelines here trying to make sense of everything. I went to sleep and woke up only to find out my father has gone off hunting and my brother is auditioning for the part of a dead corpse on E.R…!"

"I don't look that bad…" Dean muttered as he got up and went to the small wooden mirror that hung over the chest of draws, "Do I…?"

Sam grinned, only Dean could panic about his appearance at a time like this.

"Why are you making this so hard..?" Sam asked him in a defeated tone.

"We need a holiday…" Dean said with a smile, "Somewhere hot, so you can stop auditioning for the role of Casper…"

"Here we go again…" Sam said shaking his head which he regretted. "Dean, I was in a coma, ok I get that, I get the operation and the pain in my head now…"

"Your head's hurting, why didn't you say so..?" Dean said already moving towards the bag he'd brought with him from the hospital. He pulled out a plastic bag full of medication, "Got to be something in here to help..."

"Dean, it still doesn't explain why you wanted us to leave the hospital…" Sam said as Dean continued to glance at the many bottles of pills.

"We don't have to go too far, somewhere hot and in state…" Dean said looking up a second, "How does Florida grab you..?"

"I know you're ignoring me…" Sam said simply as Dean walked up to him with a pill bottle in his hand. "Dean..?"

"It's called carefully avoiding the question..." Dean said with one of his killer smiles, "When you get to be as smart as me, you learn how to do it…"

"You know I always thought that things were different between me and you…" Sam suddenly said, his voice vacant, "But maybe nothing's changed…"

"What, are you talking about..?" Dean asked as he snapped off the lid and jiggled two blue pills out and placed them in Sam's hand. "Now drink it up.."

"Doesn't matter…" Sam mumbled as he swallowed the two tablets and looked back at Dean. "You asked me to trust you…"

"Yeah, I did, so would you just shut your cake hole and do so..?" Dean said with a smart assed grin.

Sam stayed quiet and gingerly eased himself out the chair. He was in too much pain and Sam couldn't help but find it alarming that his body was struggling to co-operate with him. Dean held out a hand for support, but Sam stubbornly refused it.

"Dude you'll fall flat on your face…" Dean said in a matter of fact tone.

"So be it…" Sam muttered as he held onto all the furniture around the room and found himself stuck by the wall, the bed lay just a few feet from him, yet he knew he couldn't make it.

Sighing Dean grabbed him, looped his protesting brother's hand over his shoulders and helped him slowly to the bed. Sam dropped lightly onto it, and Dean sat down on the bed beside him.

"Why can't you tell me what's going..?" Sam asked in a hurt tone. "What do you think I'm gonna do Dean, run away..?"

"It's another story for another day, ok little man…?" Dean said getting up from the bed and walking towards his own. "We got plenty of time to talk…"

"I hope you're right Dean…" Sam said in a small voice, "Because I have a right to know what's happening to me, to us…"

"God you can be so mellow dramatic, besides don't you think we've had enough girly conversations for one night…" Dean muttered, "Lord knows I have…"

Sam didn't answer and Dean peeped over at his little brother who had already fallen asleep.

"Sweet dreams Sammy…" Dean said as he slipped off his boots and climbed onto his own bed.

With the pain-killers and antibiotics now running around Sam's system, Dean made a note to make sure Sam finished every single one of those tablets. It was the only thing that Dean knew that would aid Sam's recovery.

With Sam now resting, Dean found his own body beginning to relax, and he closed his eyes; his head nestling in the pillows.

Things were going to be tough, hard, and extremely difficult even; but Dean wasn't going to give up without a fight. Dean wasn't prepared to let Sam die at the hands of this demon and more importantly, Dean wasn't ready to lose Sam yet, not to a demon and certainly not to death itself. The elder Winchester had experienced what that loss had felt like, he'd be damned if was to ever feel that again.

Nope, for now Dean had his priorities straight, and the one and only thing on his list was to keep Sam with him.

Glancing over at his sleeping brother, Dean grinned.

"Something tells me that's not going to be a problem…"


Sam Winchester could hear Dean moving around the room, hopefully getting ready to get some sleep; his big brother needed it in more ways than Sam could explain.

Dean was still stalling with the information that Sam needed, but for now Sam realised that he would have to do the only thing that Dean had asked of his so far; to trust him.

Trusting Dean wasn't the issue. He trusted Dean with his very life and knew that Dean would do anything for him.

That was the bit that bothered Sam. Dean's selflessly willing attitude to keep his little brother safe.

That was bugging Sam, and he had no idea why. He'd always known that Dean would do anything for him but for some reason it just felt more important now. More real. The idea more deadly.

Sam swallowed, as he remembered the demon's threat to him back at the cabin. He had plans for Sam and all the other kids like him.

Dean would rather die first than let that demon get his hands on Sam.

It was a thought that worried Sam greatly.

Sam didn't know why, but he couldn't shake off the deja-vu feeling that kept forming in his gut.

While he couldn't make sense of it, he understood the reality behind it. Something would be coming after them both, and Sam was not willing to let Dean take this thing on by himself.

No way.

This was a new fight shaping up the Winchester's and Sam intended to be there by his brother's side; whether Dean agreed or not.

Sam was not going to lose Dean.

Not now, not ever….


Dr. Andrew Wallis studied the prescription he'd placed into Sam Turner's file and smiled. It looked like big brother Dean had picked it up and collected the medication.

Idiot…. Dr. Wallis thought as he sat at his desk staring at the computer file.

If only they knew what was in those tablets. Two tablets in the morning, two in the evening. Both counteracting against each other. Both making Sam sick, both making his already fragile condition worse.

It wouldn't kill Sam, well; it would depend on how stubborn the Turner family really were. It would make Sam sick, very very sick, and then they'd have no choice but to return to hospital where Dr. Wallis would be waiting.

He'd circulated Sam and Dean's description to every single contact he had in every hospital he knew.

It wouldn't take long to track them down.

And when the Turner family came crawling back for help, Dr. Wallis would be ready.

Ready to claim the fame and fortune he'd worked for his entire life. Ready to talk about the miracle patient that had come back from the dead. Ready to discuss the in's and out's of how he, the incredible doctor had managed to do it.

He knew he would have to keep Sam with him to explain it all, to run all the tests and show his miracle patients physiology to the world, but he was willing to do it no matter what it took.

It would be the biggest uproar this side of the century and Dr. Wallis intended to lead it all the way.

Dr. Kessin had pleaded for him to leave the boys alone, to let them go. He'd promised the good old doctor that he would and the fool had believed him. Stupid old man and his morals.

Nobody was going to take this opportunity from him.


And with that, his blue eyes rolled in his head filling the vacant space with an inky, filthy, soulless, blackness.

Yes, the games were really about to begin.

The hunters were about to become the hunted….

The End


2# Lying in Wait

Someone's playing deadly mind games with Sam and Dean and it's destroying the boys. Sam feels trapped as he deals with the aftermath of Dean's bizarre behaviour while Dean struggles emotionally with their father's abandonment. Fighting to stay on top of it, the Winchester boys reach breaking point when they begin to doubt each other. Will they find out the truth behind the games, before they destroy the only thing left in their lives- each other.


Life and site permitting 'Lying in Wait' should start on Wednesday. Hope to see you guys in there. Thanks again for all your support and wonderful reviews. xxx