a/n- This is an AU of IMTOD. What if Sam had been the one to make the deal?




Sam faltered at the door of his fathers hospital room. His withdrew his hand and returned it back to his side. He was barely aware of the curious glances he was attracting from the

others in the corridor. Once upon a time it would have bothered him to be labelled as a weirdo, or an outsider like he was been viewed now- but those morales had all but

vanished. He could not summon up the energy to care. He was done trying to fit into a world in which he did not belong. His world was currently lying on two beds in this hospital.

One half of which was fighting a losing battle, according to the doctors. If that was not bad enough he knew it was all his fault. Stupid, insignificant him whom a demon apparently

had "plans for." The mere thought scared the hell out of him. But not as much as living in a world without his brother.


Without his brother he would have died long ago. He gave up trying to count the amount of times Dean had saved him as it was impossible. He fought off the tears as he thought of

the amount of people Dean had saved.

His brothers life had been about sacrifice- for his family and for the world. He does not deserve this! he thought bitterly. It should not be like this. I am alive- and he's dying.

Dean had been there his whole life. He was the strong one. The one who protected him. He was the best big brother he could have ever have. He was not sure he could see life

without his brother.

The equipment he had gotten from Bobby weighed down his back. The initial anger at his father had ebbed away during the short ride over. It had been replaced, in his mind, with

something close to pride. Modern medicine had given up on his brother- but he refused to stand and watch Dean die. Dean had been at deaths door before, when he had suffered a

heart attack, and medicine and science had given up then. But through supernatural means, hehad lived to fight another day. When the doctor had uttered those fateful words a few

hours ago, "you need to have realistic expectations," his mind had immediately wandered back to that situation.

"A vodoo priest to lay some mojo on me," as Dean would probably say.

But Dean is lying on a hospital bed with stupid useless machines attached to him. Not really in any position to talk? Huh?,

His father, of all people, had given him a way to fix the situation he had caused. A stupid, hotheaded man that he had often resented had actually done something useful. The man

who had begged his youngest child to kill him. He was so angry when he had first found out Johns plans.

How dare he think of something other than Dean in a time like this?What kind of father was he?

The more he thought about it, however, the more he saw it as his only option. He did not really care about his fathers intentions, he focused on his own plan. He was desperate, that

much he knew, but he was far from irrational. His plan was far from full-proof but as they say, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."

John lay on the bed watching his youngest child outside the door. He could clearly see that his child was struggling with an immense burden. Dean, or his ghost, leaned against the

wall watching his little brother with equal intensity. He grew frustrated at his lack of control in the situation. Normally he would go into, what he liked to call, big brother mode.

Normally, he would throw open the door, make stupid sarcastic remarks until Sam would roll his eyes in disguist. It was a tried and tested method, but he could not disagree with

the results. However, now that he had been forced into the role of spectator, he was now forced to rely on his father. Sam and dad? Together? Even in these circumstances he

snorted. He braced himself as Sam opened the door.

Sam walked in, keeping his eyes on the floor. John watched him, willing him to meet his gaze. Sam continued to stare at the floor and bit his lip. Dean saw the danger signs

immediately. Never in his life had Sam refused to meet his fathers gaze. Dean knew it had to have been something bad that was on his brothers mind. Forgetting his situation he was

in he started over to Sam.

"Come on Sammy what's the matter?"

When Sam continued to stare at the floor, he grew frustrated.

"Come on, man. Concentrate. I know you can hear me."

"Your quiet," cut in Johns voice. Sam shivered involuntarily. Dean sighed and stood at Sams shoulder.

"Just thinking about Dean," he half whispered.

Alarm bells began to ring in Deans head. He heard the pessimism and defeated tone in his brothers voice. Something was seriously wrong here.

"Come on Dad!" he urged, "Pick up on it. You cannot miss this!"

"He would not be like that if you did not do what I asked"

Sam and Dean both winced.

"You stupid bastard! Do not blame him- it is NOT his fault! Come on Sammy, don't you believe it!"

Sam nodded, as if in acceptance, "I am sorry."

Johns eyes narrowed as he surveyed Sam. His gaze reminded Dean of those animal shows were the lion was surveying his prey.

Dean balled his fists in anger. "You are so lucky i am a ghost right now," he growled to his father.

"Did you get the things I asked you to get from Bobby?" he snapped.

"He did not have them. He said he will bring them tomorrow." replied Sam curtly.

"Bobby?" he questioned roughly, "Did not have it?"

Sams head shot up. For a second Dean thought Sam was going to shout back at him and to tell John to "Screw himself." He imagined, with certain amount of relief, the ensuring

argument and a sliver of normality that would come from it. Instead Sam said nothing, merely watching John with a sparkle of interest. John met his gaze. Deans head moved from

Sam to John and back again.

Sam chuckled and the noise echoed erily around the room.Dean raised an eyebrow and John unwittinly mimicked him.

"Why in the hell are you laughing?"

"I never told you i was proud of you"

"Were did this come from?" asked John, surprised- not expecting the answer he had received.

Sam shook his head," You have always been this big figure in some many peoples lives. You have been so many things in my life- the warrior, the fighter and the symbol of

everything I hate. But i have always forgotten you are my dad. It took a car crash fro me to realise that. How messed up is that?"

John was unsure of how to proceed. This was unchatered waters for him,

"I am your dad. i thought that you were supposed to smart- geesh, it took you over 20 years to realise that?"

Sam opened his mouth to protest but John raised a hand to stop him.

"It is my job to protect you boys from the evils of this world. I am your dad. It is kind of in the handbook. I am sorry in doing this though, i've alienated myself from my kids.

Because in the end, nothing else matters.Not the labels, not the Demon- just you boys."

"Thanks dad. I am sorry for all the rows you know."

John smiled. Dean immediately bristled. Dad was not as close to Sam so, unlike Dean, he failed to realise that this speech could mean nothing good. From his brothers mouth, it

sounded way too much like a goodbye.

Sam began to move to the door. Dean followed, inserting himself between the two.

"Your not going anywhere."

Sam stopped as John spoke,

"You are my kid so I kinda always expected a fair share of tantrums."

"From both sides, laughed Sam, "I am just going to go and see Dean."

John nodded encouragingly. Sam smiled, not meeting his eyes.

"See you later," said John.

"Yeah," said Sam turning to the door. He breezed past Dean and moved into the corridor.

Dean stood, motionless at the door. HIs stomach dropped.

Sams lying... he realised suddenly.