A/N: Final chapter! Hope everyone likes the ending. And once again, thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read. And a special thanks to those who have reviewed. With the site being down so much recently, I'm not sure if all of the reviewers have received my replies, but I thank you all for each review. I loved them all!

Chapter 9:

Dean had pushed his beloved car at over eighty miles an hour for the last hour. All he wanted to do was get this freakin' job over with and get back to Sam. Not to mention he would love to be able to just sleep. For one entire night, completely sleep. His body was still far from healed, and the headache just would not go away. Not to mention he was getting damn tired of the cast on his arm. He knew he was wrong to leave Sam behind with Bobby. He knew Sam would be perfectly safe, but that didn't do anything to make the pain and betrayal he saw flash in his brother's eyes all right. Right now though, he had no choice.

Finally reaching his destination, Dean pulled his car down the dirt driveway parking behind the house. The family had left the house for the weekend, allowing him to do whatever needed to be done. Thankfully, through his research and the family's help he had no need to go into the house. He had found out that the body was buried in an old family cemetery in the pasture behind the house. The cemetery was tucked away, nestled next to a small hill. Throughout the years it had been preserved as an historical site and nothing had been disturbed. That was until tonight when Dean was done digging up the grave and burning the bones. With a grunt he hauled his duffle back up over his shoulder and with his good arm grabbed the shovel.

The night air was cold and he could see his breath with every exhale. He knew he should be focused on the job at hand, but as he walked all he could think of was Sam. He knew his brother, and he knew that right now Sam was probably badgering Bobby with questions. Questions that Bobby would refuse to answer. Dean hated to think of the wrath he was going to face from his brother when he got back. But he would keep his promise. When he was done here, he would go back to Sam, sit him down and tell him everything, then brace himself for the whatever happened after that.

Almost fifteen minutes later, with his legs and back protesting the long walk, he reached his destination. Thankfully the headstones on the graves had also been preserved. Dean smiled to himself. If he was feeling better, this would really be a piece of cake. He couldn't have asked for an easier job. Of course, that thought left his head as soon as he realized he was going to be digging one handed. "Damn it" he cursed. "Quit bitchin' Dean and get it over with." he mumbled. He set up the flashlight on his duffle bag, casting light over the grave, and began to dig.

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Sam tripped on his blankets and fell onto the floor with a grunt. He yelled out in surprise when the bedroom door flew open and the light went out revealing Bobby standing in the doorway, a shotgun aimed and ready.

"Sam!" Bobby yelled when he saw the boy on the floor. "What is it!"

Sam sat in shock unable to answer for a few minutes. "Uh...bad dream. You think you can not point that gun at me?"

Bobby heaved a sigh of relief and lowered the gun. "Damn it boy, I thought somethin' was here. A bad dream?" He asked as he watched Sam rub his forehead. "Sam?"

"Uh? Yeah. Sorry to wake you up. Just a dream." Sam said as he pushed himself up off the floor.

Bobby watched in silence for a minute. The boys had told him before about Sam's visions and nightmares. Dean had also told him that Sam's visions came with severe head pain. And as Bobby watched Sam sink back onto the bed, his head in his hands, he began to wonder.

He walked over and sat next to Sam, ignoring the way the boy's body tensed. "Headache?"

Sam slid his eyes over to him for a minute. "Yeah. I'll be fine. You can go back to bed."

Bobby nodded but made no attempt to move. "So you wanna tell me about the dream. Cause I heard you yellin' out for your brother."

"Nothing to tell really. It was just a bad dream. It's just...it was weird."

"Weird how?" Bobby pushed, he was getting his own feeling about what was happening. He may come off as an old hillbilly but he wasn't slow on the uptake.

"I don't know. It was like, more real than a dream. And there was this flash of white light. It was just...it was so real." Sam repeated. He had no idea how to explain it. "It left me with a bad feeling. Like something isn't right."

Bobby was sure now what was going on. He had heard Sam call out for Dean, and if Dean was in trouble they needed to hurry. "Sam. Did you see something bad happen to Dean?"

"Yeah." Sam whispered. He shook his head. "That was a horrible dream."

Suddenly Bobby shot up off the bed. "Get dressed Sam. I'll call Dean then we're outta here."

"What?" Sam asked, confused by Bobby's sudden freak out.

"Damn it boy, get dressed and get out to the truck. We've gotta get to your brother now!" With that Bobby left the room in search of his phone and weapons.

Sam sat for a moment in shock, completely confused. What the hell was this all about? He was tempted to just sit there until the man explained why a bad dream had him all freaked out. But a little voice was nagging at the back of his mind. Something told him that his brother was in trouble and right now was not the time to question it. He quickly got up and got dressed.

Thirty minutes into the drive Sam threw the cell phone into the seat. "He's not answering." He told Bobby, his own panic rising due to the seriousness of the man he was sitting next to.

"Don't worry. We'll get there in time." Bobby said.

"In time for what? You want to tell me what the hell is going on! Why are we freaking out over a bad dream? Why are we chasing down my brother?"

"Fine boy, I'm gonna lay it out and you're just gonna have to take it on faith. I don't feel like twenty questions right now. Okay?"

Sam was silenced by the urgency in Bobby's voice. He simply nodded.

"You Sam are a psychic. You have visions. And most of the time they come true. What you had back there was a vision. And if you saw something happening to Dean then it's going to. That's why we're in an all fire hurry to get to him."

Sam gave him a 'yeah right' look. "A psychic? You expect me to believe that?"

"You saw it not me. And right now kid, I don't care. I'm a little more worried about Dean. That boy ain't in any shape to fight."

Sam's jaw tensed. Once again there was that feeling. The one that said Bobby was right, Dean was in danger. The one that said he knew damn good and well what was going on. It was telling him to shut up and accept it. So why couldn't he?

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It took Dean almost forty minutes to dig the damn hole. And he cursed the entire time. But he finally reached the old wooden coffin. He was extremely happy about that. The old wooden ones were so easy to bust open. With very little effort the wood crumbled beneath the shovel, displaying a pile of bones beneath. "Bout damn time." Dean muttered to himself as he climbed out of the hole. He took the salt and poured it liberally over the bones as well a lighter fluid. He was just about to light a match when he heard a hissing sound. He snapped his head up and saw the apparition.

"Oh come on! I'm almost done!" Dean shouted. It moved fast and before he knew it, his legs were knocked out and he landed on his back, yelling out in pain as his broken arm landed across the shovel. "Damn it!" He quickly rolled himself over and began searching for the book of matches he dropped. As he did he noticed that the dirt on the edge of the hole was slowly falling back in.

"No way! That took me all night you freak!" Dean yelled at the ghost. He continued searching for the matches. Just as his hand grabbed them and he began to stand he was pushed back down again. "Fine, you wanna play that way! I can light 'em from here you know!"

Dean pulled off a match and struck it. All the while the ghost was hissing in anger. Before it could attack further Dean threw the match. The grave lit up in flames instantly. Dean also felt the pressure release off of him and he was able to stand. With a smirk of satisfaction, he stood by the grave watching the bones burn. Suddenly he heard a voice.

Dean spun around, peering into the darkness. There it was again. Bobby? He could have sworn that was Bobby's voice. But it couldn't be. Then he saw two lights bobbing up and down. Flashlights. Two dark figures were starting to come into view. Just in case he picked up his gun. A few seconds later and the figures came into full view. It was Sam and Bobby. What the hell?

Just as Dean was about to say something he saw a look of horror come across Sam's face.

"Dean, look out!" Sam yelled.

But Dean didn't have a chance to react. Before he could turn around he felt the blow to the back of his head and the last thing he saw was the ground rushing up to meet his face.

"Dean! No!" Sam took off running and so did Bobby. Sam raised the gun Bobby had given him and fired two expert shots at the ghost, filling it with rock salt. It disappeared with a hiss.

Sam dropped next to Dean. As he reached for his brother and cradled him in his arms, he felt a wave rush over him. It was like being hit by a tidal wave. There was no more blank space. Everything came rushing back to him. His entire life, the last few days. Everything. "Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed. His emotions were overwhelming. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped.

"Easy kid. Just me." Bobby said. "The bones have burned enough. It's gone."

"Good." Sam turned his attention back to Dean. "Dean? Dean can you hear me?"

"How bad?" Bobby asked.

"I don't know." Sam ran his hands over Dean's head. "There's no blood."

"Let's get this fire out and we'll get him home." Bobby said.

Sam nodded and let Bobby do all the work. He simply sat, holding Dean, trying to hold back the tears. "Dean, come on. Don't do this. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." he whispered.

Bobby placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Come on Sam. Let's get him out of here."

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An hour and a half later Sam found himself sitting on the bed next to his still unconscious brother. They had driven back to Bobby's house in complete silence. Sam didn't dare open his mouth. His emotions were in over drive and he had no idea what to say. His mind was just trying to comprehend what had happened. He couldn't describe the feeling of going from totally blank, having everyone around him being a stranger, to being himself again within a matter of seconds. All he could think of was, how could he have ever forgotten who he was? How could he have forgotten Dean? He remembered those feeling from when he first woke up in the hospital. How when he looked at Dean, he simply saw some guy standing there. He felt nothing toward him. Sam couldn't imagine how Dean dealt with that. If the situation had been reversed, Sam thought his heart would break in two. But Dean had been so strong for him. Trying to help him. He thought back to how Dean would dodge his questions. He was so angry at Dean then, but now, he understood completely. He couldn't imagine how he would have reacted if Dean had been honest with him those first couple of days.

Sam looked at his watch. Dean had been out for far too long. Add tonight up with his other injuries and Sam was starting to get scared. He was about to go in search of Bobby when he appeared at the door.

"He ain't woke up yet?" Bobby asked.

Sam shook his head. "Think we should take him to the hospital?"

"Nah." Bobby came into the room and took a seat in the chair opposite the bed. "He took a pretty good hit. But I'm thinkin' that after the last couple of days, maybe this is his body's way of healin'."

"You think?" Sam asked, not quite assured.

"Sam, your brother's been under a lot of stress lately. What with your daddy and then your condition the last couple of days. Not to mention he's just as banged up as you. I don't think the boy's had a good nights sleep in at least the last week. So let's give him a little longer. If he don't come around in about an hour or so, we'll take him to the hospital."

Sam looked down at the floor. He nodded at Bobby. But he couldn't meet the man's eyes. Bobby was right. Dean had been put through the ringer and having Sam loose his memory and sulk around angrily for the last couple of days hadn't helped.

Bobby sighed. "Sammy. Quit thinkin'. Nothin going on here is your fault. Things just happen. All you need to do is concentrate on gettin' better, and Dean too. Why don't you try and get some rest."

"Yeah." Bobby got up to leave the room but Sam stopped him. "How do you think it happened?" he asked.

"What?" Bobby asked.

"My memory. How did it just come back all of a sudden like that?"

"My theory? I think seein' your brother in trouble like that, it just came back to you. Don't know what else coulda' done it." Bobby said.

"Yeah, probably." Sam agreed.

Sam stretched out on the bed next to Dean. He wasn't planning on falling asleep, but his body just needed to relax. Suddenly Dean shifted against him and moaned.

Sam shot up to a sitting position. "Dean? Come on man wake up."

"Mmmhhh." Dean muttered, his eyes fluttering, then slowly opening.

"That's it. Hey man, you okay?" Sam asked nervously.

Dean shifted his head back and forth a little, blinking his eyes to adjust to the light. "What happened?" He asked.

Sam sighed with relief when Dean finally focused on him and spoke. "Man that ghost whacked you with your own shovel. You've been out for hours dude."

Dean's brow furrowed. "Ghost? Shovel? What the hell are you talking about?"

Sam's face dropped. "The job you were doing for a friend. You know. You were burning the bones. But before it was gone completely it tried to take you with it. Are you in pain, can you see all right. What's wrong Dean?" Sam asked quickly, starting to freak out.

Dean rubbed his forehead. "Slow down trigger. One question at a time. My head hurts like hell. Where am I?"

"We're back at Bobby's." Sam said slowly as he watched Dean scan the room. Sam swallowed thickly. Dean wasn't acting right. "Dean? You okay man?"

Dean turned to him with a look of confusion. "Who are you?"

Sam's jaw hit the floor. "Oh my god." he whispered, fear lacing his voice. "Dean? Do you know who you are?"

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it closed. He shifted slightly the bed, wincing, then shook his head slowly.

Sam's breath hitched. "It's okay. Just relax. Uhm...you don't...you don't know me?"

"Look, can you just tell me what happened?" Dean asked.

"Just lay there a minute Dean. I'm gonna get Bobby and get you to the hospital." Sam said, panic lacing his voice. "It'll be okay. Don't be scared." Sam said, trying to calm Dean, or himself, he couldn't tell.

He had jumped off the bed and just about to head for the door when he saw the small smirk on Dean's lips. Sam went from panicked to pissed in zero seconds. "You asshole! You were screwing with me!"

"Don't be scared." Dean mocked, using Sam's frightened tone. He started laughing. "Man you should have seen the look on your face. Priceless." He laughed harder, clutching his head as pain shot through him. "Ow!" He howled.

"You deserve it you prick!" Sam shouted. "That was just wrong Dean. Wrong!"

"Maybe. But now you know how I felt." Dean said, still laughing. "Besides, it was just funny."

Sam gave the bed a swift kick. "Screw you! You're a friggin' jerk! I hope your head hurts like hell."

"Oh it does, but that was just worth it."

Sam flipped Dean off and was about to storm out of the room when Dean stopped him. "Wait Sam." Dean stopped laughing, took a deep breath, and got serious. "Okay man. I'm sorry. It wasn't funny."

Sam shook his head. "I know I've been a pain in the ass for a couple of days, but that was mean Dean."

"I said I was sorry."

Sam sighed. "Yeah, apology accepted. Seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine Sam." They both fell into a silence for a minute. Then Dean asked, "what about you? You okay?"

"Yeah, actually I'm great. I can remember everything now." Sam said.

"How did it happen?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure. Bobby thinks that when I saw you get hurt, it caused everything to rush back."

"Ah Sammy. Your love for me brought you back. Hold me." Dean said sweetly, holding out his arms.

"I hate you." Sam said and got up.

"Where you going?" Dean asked, sitting himself up.

"I'm getting you something to eat and some water. And then, and these are Bobby's orders, the two of us are taking a couple days off to do nothing but sit here and rest. Bobby said the room is ours for as long as we need it. And we are going to stay at least three days. Those are my orders."

"Little Sammy becoming assertive? Not a good style for you little brother. Doesn't fit." Dean teased.

Sam got real serious and sat down next to Dean. "I'm serious Dean. We've been through too much the last couple of months. We both need some time to let our bodies heal. And I think we both need some down time to work out some other things. Just do this for me. Please."

Dean knew Sam added the please on purpose. Sam knew Dean couldn't refuse a plea from his little brother. And Dean also recognized that this was Sam's way of getting Dean to get over some of his issues without having to talk about them. And that Dean was very grateful for.

"All right Sammy." Sam smiled and got up again to leave. "Hey Sammy." Dean said. As Sam turned to him Dean gave him a very serious look.

"Glad to have you back."

-The End-