So finally finsihing this story...for a while, i truly thought i never would!! hope everyone likes the ending!! thanks fro reading!! bambers;)

Chapter Thirteen

Dean sat looking out the window at the darkened motel parking lot, thinking about what Angelina had told him. He knew Sam was watching him, could feel the weight of his stare on his back, but refused to turn around. "Go to sleep, Sam."

"Dean, you haven't slept more than two hours in the past three days."


"No, you're not." Sam sat up in bed, and pulled on his jeans over his boxers. He strode to the small table Dean was sitting at, and plopped down in the chair beside him. "You haven't slept, you're hardly eating, and you look like hell." He hesitated for a second, then added, "In fact, hell looks damn good compared to you at the moment."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude." Dean scrubbed his hand across the two-days growth of stubble on his face, and sighed. "Just sittin' here thinkin' how I have to go back there."

"Why Dean. Mara's gone, I took care of her."

Dean turned to look at him, lowering his head when he saw the look of concern in Sam's hazel eyes. "Think that's the point, Sammy." He shrugged. "Think this is something I have to do."

Sam stared at him for a moment as he nervously tapped his fingers on the wooden table, then nodded in understanding. "All right, I'll go with you then."

"No, have to do this alone." Dean bobbed his head toward the window. "Was just waiting till it was dark enough."

"Dean — " Sam was about to argue, but Dean cut him off.

"Have to do this, Sammy, have to prove to myself that she didn't win."

"You ever gonna tell me what happened? I mean, I know it must've been pretty bad."

"Yeah, someday." Dean pushed back his chair, and stood. He strode to the door, opened it, and then turned to look at Sam. "But for now, I just want you to know that I'm glad you never gave up on me." Without waiting for Sam to reply, he turned and headed out the door, shutting it behind him.


Dean pulled into the parking lot of the Rock 'n a Hard Place tavern. Not surprised to find it open for business, he parked the Impala beside the flashing hot pink neon sign. Taking a calming breath, he opened the door and slid out of the vehicle, then quietly shut it behind him.

The scent of burnt lumber still clung to the warm night's breeze. However, the building itself stood unmarred as if it had never been totally destroyed by the raging inferno that he and Sam had barely escaped from a few days prior.

He strode to the entrance, glanced back to make sure no one was following behind him, and entered. The moment he stepped inside, the country music on the radio stopped blaring, and the crowd all swung to look at him.

The same two muscular men who had been arm wrestling the first time he'd been in the bar, stood and headed toward him. Dean yanked his knife out of the holster attached to his belt, gripped it tightly in his hand and aimed the blade toward them. A glint of light fell across the cold steel, and both men noticing it, slowly backed away.

"Yeah, heard you boys were afraid of this. Now sit down before I slit your throats with it."

Dean pushed past the crowd of terrified nightmare demons, and stalked to the bar. Slamming the tip of the blade down into the wooden counter top, he let go of it, and waited for Mara face him.

"Care for a drink, Dean," she asked, without turning around.

Dean glanced at the neon sign on the wall, and noticed the names of the drinks. "Which drink did I have the last time?"

"Killer Nightmare." She swung to look at him, jade eyes sparkling unnaturally in the darkened room.

Dean nodded, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "Yeah, think I'll have a beer."

"Bottle or what's on tap?" she asked, placing a glass down in front of him.

"What do you think?"

"Bottle it is then." Reaching under the counter, she grabbed a beer, opened it, and poured it in his glass.

"On second thought, I'll take the Killer Nightmare."

Mara leaned over the counter, and lightly caressed his cheek. "Really think you can handle it?"

Dean looked her square in the eyes, his own narrowing considerably. "Darlin', I can take whatever the hell you dish out."

"Fair enough, but don't say I didn't warn you." Mara grabbed a shaker, dropped in some ice and then poured in several jiggers of vodka, Jager, and rum over it, and then added the same blood red mixture she'd added the first time Dean had the drink. She shook it vigorously then poured some into two glasses. She snatched her glass off the bar, and raised it toward Dean and smiled. "Drink up."

Mara put the glass to her lips, and was about to take a sip when Dean grabbed hold of her arm and stopped her. "Forgot something didn't you?" Letting go of her, Dean swung to face the crowd of people milling around. "Not my first time, but what the hell." He raised his glass, and tipped it toward them. "One sip to enthrall you." He took a swallow of the fiery liquid. When he noticed no one drinking, he snatched his knife off the bar, and waved it at them. "Drink up. We're all here to have a good time."

He returned his attention to Mara. "Now how did that next line go?" he asked as he trailed the edge of the blade down the smooth bronzed skin of her arm, and she flinched. "Oh yeah, One sip to poison the mind." Dean quickly swallowed down more of the drink. "Liked that particular line . . . kinda really set the mood for the whole damn nightmare didn't it?"

"Lookin' kinda tired, Dean. Sure you don't want to take a little nap," Mara taunted, yanking her arm away from him.

"Naw, I'm good." He grinned, tipping the glass to his lips. "One sip to ensnare you." He took a long gulp. "One sip to make you mine . . . and then the nightmares begin." Emptying the remains of the sweet liquid, Dean forcefully slammed it down on the counter, shattering the glass.

Mara eyed him cautiously as she picked up the pieces of broken glass. "Care for another?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope, just gonna sit here and wait for you to try and screw my life all to hell again."

"Why would I need to do that, Dean. We both already know the only reason you're even alive is because of Sam."

"True. But we both also know that I'm not afraid of you. I'm stronger than you and that terrifies the hell out of you."

That's not — "

She tried to deny it, but Dean was quick to add, "It's why you drugged me . . . why you couldn't fight me. Cause when all is said and done, you aren't real. Your strength can only manifest itself in the unconscious mind."

"I can still hurt you, Dean. I can make every night a living hell for you," she warned, the look in her jade eyes turning deadly. "And eventually, I will kill you."

"See that's where you're wrong. You can't hurt me unless I believe you can. Misery taught me that."

Mara chuckled, and the crowd behind Dean followed suit. "You really think I can't hurt you?"

"Yeah, cause no matter how bad a nightmare might be, it's not real."

"Oh, I can make you believe it's real, Dean," Mara chided, taking a step closer to him. "Can make you relive your worst fears over and over again — "

Without warning, Dean reached out, snaked his arm around her neck, and yanked her toward the knife in his hand. Plunging the blade deep into her heart, Dean looked her dead in the eyes as she let out an ear-piercing screech. "I don't fear you." Viciously twisting the blade counterclockwise, Dean pulled her even closer to him. "I don't believe in you."

Dean yanked the knife out of her chest, and forcefully thrust her away from him. He swung to face Mara's minions. "You're not real . . . none of you are." The moment the words left his mouth, her followers disintegrated into nothing more than small heaps of stone and ash.

"You can't do this," Mara cried out as she gripped onto the bar for support. "You're not strong enough to defeat me."

Turning to face Mara, he gestured around the tavern. "This place doesn't exist. It's all in my mind."

The walls, ceiling and all the furniture inside the tavern melted away, leaving the two of them standing in an empty parking lot. The small piles of ash scattered in the warm breeze, disappearing into the darkness of night.

Dean glanced over at his car, and saw Sam leaning against the Impala with shotgun raised and aimed directly at Mara's heart. "Thought I told you I could handle this myself."

"You did, but when have I ever listened to you?"

Sam grinned, inclining his head toward Mara, and Dean swung to look at her. Mara raised her hand and stared at it, watching helplessly as it dissolved to nothing more than tiny granules of sand and then blew away in the wind. Her once beautiful face shriveled and cracked as it too turned to sand.

Dean turned and strode toward the Impala. Lowering his weapon, Sam walked around to the passenger's side, and got in.

"Come back here, Dean," Mara screamed, her voice growing weaker and more distressed the further he moved away from her. "I'm not finished with you."

Opening the car door, he faced her one last time. "Yeah, figured you'd say that. But, I'm so finished with you." He chuckled, feeling better than he had in a long time. Dean slid behind the wheel, and shut the door. Noticing the wires hanging loosely beneath the dashboard, he cuffed Sam across the back of his head.

"What the hell was that for, Dean?" Sam stared at him incredulously.

"Dude, you hot-wired my car."

"Was trying to save your life."

"Doesn't matter, Sammy, don't do it again."

Sam shook his head, letting out a deep exasperated groan. "Spare keys, Dean . . . not a new concept."

Yawning, Dean stretched his arms, and cuffed Sam across the head again. He grinned, green eyes sparkling with renewed determination. "Never gonna happen, dude. No one has keys to my car, but me."

Turning the key in the ignition, Dean revved the engine and pulled out of the now deserted parking lot, Metallica 's Enter Sandman blaring on the radio they drove away. "Now that I've taken car of that bitch, think I'm going to go back to the motel and crash for like a week."