Disclaimer: I do not, have not and will not own Sam or Dean Winchester, their father...or sniff the car...but someday I'm gonna buy that model but until that life changing day...I do not own owt.

Depress me further thanks world.

WARNINGS: maybe a lot or mostly LIMP! Sam and protective/worried Dean. Angst/violence and language. oh and spoilers for season 2 finale.

on a lighter note or if you're a little glum...can bald people have hair line fractures...? (strokes chin) hmmmmm?

Summary: When Sam's visions become more than he can handle, and Dean doesn't know how to help...will a startling new ability break or make the brothers...okay so maybe bro fluff aswell. -note- all errors, spelling mistakes and faults all me, sorry microsoft word decided now of all times to break..dumbass...so word pad will have to do...stupid!

New Discoveries

This fic is finally finished! I just made into one big fic instead of chapters. Hope you enjoy! It was an ass to write after leaving it for so many years! Aghhh...so sorry! I'm getting round to all the others don't you worry!

"Sammy!" A beat.

"Sammy...hey dude you done yet?" Dean shouted as he wrapped his knuckles on the paper thin wooden motel door, more paint practically fell in sheets to the floor as the peeling revealed another coloured paint and more peeling underneath.

"Ugh...gross man." Dean muttered taking in the sickly orange then bright lime green of the paint choices.

"Who designed this freaking motel...it's like puke paisley?" Dean mused to himself.

A light cough behind the peeling mess brought Dean's attention back to the bathroom...and his urgent need to shower.

"Grave's kinda like sticking to me Sam, I just love dead folk essence when I sleep." he sarcastically yelled, now hammering the door before him...he honestly thought it would break.

"Dean...hang on ...ok?" The quiet and slightly raspy voiced hollowed back. Sam sounded...off. Maybe he was getting the flu or somehthing.

Dean stood back from the door and lowered his voice caringly.

"You okay in there kiddo...sound kinda...ill?" Dean asked...already feeling a pit in his stomach.

"Yeah...just shut the hell up screaming man." Sam sighed, leant in front of the mirror once more took note of the slightly pale complexion and towel dried his hair as he opened the door to a mound of steam releasing, he shivered in the rooms normal temperature and shyly glanced at Dean before sitting on his own bed already clad in sweats and a shirt.

"You took forever man...you sure you're not a 'Samantha'?" Dean teased, trading a classic hallmark grin with a sadly normal brooding Sam.

"Sorry...guess I lost track of time." Though Sam still smiled the same, and looked the same old Sam, his voice held no amount of attitude, enthusiasm or even the normal Sam-bitching. Dean was beginning to think the spirit got him or somehthing while his back was turned.

"She didn't get you did she?...knock you upside the head or anyhthing 'cos I missed that." Dean fake smiled, only holding worry and guilt if he had missed the fiery little bitch getting hold of Sam, hell she threw him in a grave and tried to bury it, maybe he missed Sam being hurt in all the action.

"What?...oh the spirit. No man...just a headache I think...thought it would pass up." Sam threw a dopey lop sided grin and shrugged. "I'm fine man. Hard head." sam made a tapping notion on his forehead and motioned to the shower to Dean.

"Yeah, m'goin take some tylenol clear the ache." Dean smiled proudly and relieved nothing bad had happened tonight, to Sam anyway. Eversince the whole deal thing, Sam had been more intent on tracking these mothers down but it was like the demons knew, every hunt Sam had been prime target...thrown at windows, pelted with furniture...poltergeist play toys and demons rag dolls. It was like Sam was being seen differently and trying to be taken out, thank god this hunt only Dean got nearly buried alive in a freshly dug grave...Dean laughed to himself. I only nearly got killed this time...is this normal...why am I answering myself?

After letting Dean go to his shower, as soon as the mucas rainbow door closed, Sam gripped his head in both heads, gasping he tried to keep the 'headache' under check. Except he knew it wasn't a normal headache, he'd had it almost three hours straight now and it wasn't letting up. felt more like a vision but he couldn't tell Dean he had a new freak show hour vision that lasted all day.

It was already difficult having those late night talks with Dean about his dreams, scratch that, nightmares. In the early morning hours when he'd jerk awake, Dean's worried face would hover into view, ask him if he was okay, if he wanted to talk about it.

Sam was starting to feel bad he was the cause of that look permanently etched on Dean's face.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing loudly, somehow the pain making it more difficult to breathe through the newly increasing agony, a hitched breath caught in his throat. That and the grimaces he was sprouting didn't add to the fact he was damn scared right now, what if it was another physic ability? What if he was becoming evil slowy? What if he didn't come back whole?...and he couldn't hide the pain from Dean much longer he was starting to see through Sam's mask, and he couldn't take more tylenol, he was close to an overdose as it was.

"Stupid tablets never even worked..." Sam whipsered to himself, he blinked the greying vision and sudden flash of light, before even his own eyes wouldn't open because of the motel light...maybe this is seriuos...a hospital?..no, they couldn't help him with this.

Sam shook the thought from his mind when the bathroom door billowed steam and Dean appeared like some angel from the mist. Quite fitting actually. Sam smiled.

Dean smiled gleefully like a kid getting his first pocket knife (which if Sam remembered Dean LOVED) and the shower gel freshness and too strong cologne of his big brother wafted through their room and made Sam smile more.

"What are you smiling about?" Dean asked, suddenly feeling the need to check his bed and duffle bag for a hidden Sammy suprise. "You pranking me or something?"

"No...just you. How much cologne did you put on, the whole freakin stash?" Sam laughed.

"Dude...I fell in a grave, I needed to get clean. ya' know Dead people and all go in graves when they die." Dean spoke extra slow to over exagerate the impression of 'My brother is a retard and he doesn't understand me' face.

"Whatever...on second thought did you steal half the store to spray yourself." Sam mused, his headache still present but somehow an unimaginally annoying brother seemed to fix that ache.

"Fine...bitch about me. And I was going to tell you where my extra powerful drugs were...solve that headache o' yours." Dean boasted, but unfortunate for Sam, he was clearly lying.

"Thanks Dean...I could've used them too...it won't let up...AH!" Sam gasped as a blinding pain skipped behind his right eye before returning to a dully growing throb of pain.

Surprised to find Dean so close when he opened his eyes he smiled.

"You o-"

"Just a twinge I think...I'm fine." Sam lied.

Sam rubbed his temple then laid full out on the bed, breathing deeply...he hated pain...whoever the fuck invented it should get killed...or attacked or something...stupid god and earth balance crap.

"You sure you okay?" Dean nodded sleepily.

"Yeah, go to sleep I'll be fine by morning thanks." Sam sighed...that was not the case, he knew it wouldn't, call it a sense.

Dean nodded, but frowned at Sam. He was pale, the tight lines of pain around his eyes evident even as he pulled the covers to cosy into sleep. Dean sighed to himself, promised he'd be the one to end that pain on his brothers face.

-6:45am next day-

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty!" Dean yelled into the slumbering ear of his little brother, eager to start the day with a bang and get going to their next gig, all lined and waiting...well waiting for Sam to get his ass up.

A loud throaty moan disturbed the sleepy silence and Dean's banter.

"what...'ime 'sit?" Sam groggily asked, head of shaggy hair still buried into the pillow. His voice muffled.

"Close to 7am Sammy...a new day is dawning...Get up then." Dean snapped, this too slow and too old Sam worming a weave to his good day start.

"Awwwwwwww...maaaaaan...can't I sleep here all day. The roaches keep me company." Sam drawled.

"No man, we got a gig...remember Colorado hills, the wraith thing...or whatever. C'mon let's go." Dean was maybe more than worried about Sam now, wasn't it the other way around with who woke who?

Sam, pulled the warming covers off his bed and felt the freeezing draft on his feet as he tocuhed manky carpet and padded lightly to the bathroom, dressed, brushed teeth and...still sleeping, Sam walked past Dean grabbed his stuff and sat in the car alreayy dozing in the passenger seat.

Dean shook his head and sighed.

"Great...pissy Sam, thanks headache..." Wait... He still have that?

-Colorado state, Freemont motel-

Dean had to say the ride was...insightful if you were counting how many nightmares your little brother had and his tendency to sleep six hours straight all the drive. Dean couldn't even tease him like this.

After a stress free drive but a stomach full of fear Dean didn't feel at all relaxed.

"Sammy...HEY!" Dean shook Sam by his shoulders and offered the room key, they needed to talk about this. It was like Sam had regressed ten years, mooding about to the car.

Dean helped carry their duffles and wepons to their room, and sat down heavily on the nearest bed.

"Sammy...we gotta talk about this." Dean regretted the whole thing now, looking at Sam's kicked puppy face.

"Dean I didn't think you'd take much notice of it...they'll get better...it's ok but I should have told you." Sam said, suddenly so guilty.

"No Sam, you said that before but they always pop back up...you can't keep letting these happen." Dean sighed.

Sam sighed and frowned but he looked Dean in the eye and continued.

"I know...and I'm sorry I thought you wouldn't notice, the tylenol didn't help, I had it all night and only then I fell asleep from no will to keep my eyes open. It's not going away, I think it might be the visions or I don't know..." Sam swallowed and whispered secretively. "I don't know what's happening to me..."

Sam looked up at his brother to see him with a worried '0' face.

"The visions...they're back..b-but the demon...it should be over. Wait it's not your nightmares messing you up...you're getting visions again!?" Dean asked, his voice pitch getting higher.

Pain began to swell and throb inside Sam's temple, he tried to hide the wince.

"Nightmares...er...wait you were talking about my nightmares?" Sam cocked his again causing the ground to shift.

"Yeah, dude you had like fifteen on the way here alone...I thought. You never told me your visions were back Sam." Dean said, guilt and betrayel lacing his tone.

Sam winced. Dean didn't know if it was his head or his mix up.

"Well...I haven't actually had a vision yet...just this headache since lastnight, it's intense though you know, like a vision." Sam explained.

"So it's a hunch, but you're sure...Sam?" Dean asked worriedly as Sam's eyes glazed over.

"Er...yeah...positive...aww man..." Sam grabbed his head, white pain and heat filled his gaze as flashes took over. It only lasted a few moments but the pain still lingered. Sam sat hunched, head and hands and chin almost leaning on his chest, breathing deeply.

"You okay...what you see this time?" Dean had to ask, he always did but- Sam looked so...worn out, could he take much more?

"I didn't...just the headaches...never a vision." Sam breathed deeply a couple more times. "Dean?"

"Yeah." Rubbing a hand over his face and through the short stubby dirt blond hair.

"Do you think...I dunno that I'm becoming something else...these headaches it's how the visions started...what if-"

"No Sam, we had this talk, you're not fucking turning evil! you're as good as any innocent!" Dean yelled, Sam always saw the best in other people, why couldn't he in himself?

"Dean...?" Sam staggered

"What!" Snapped Dean. turning to face a very...pale Sam? "Sammy?" Dean ran to Sam's side and lifted his head to meet Dean's gaze.

"Ahhh...Dean!...ahh...oh god!" Sam arched his back and fell into a nose dive for the carpet.

"Whoa!" Dean leaned in and caught Sam, guiding him safely to the ground, low moans and grunts came from a panicked little brother.

"Dean...make it st-stop, please...hurts." Sam gasped, his head flung back and face pulled tight, eyes clenched and fists white knuckled.

"Ahh...ahhh..." Sam let lose a stray breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and began to steadily fall free from the igniting pain.

His fists released and his breath slowed, he let his eyes slide shut and relaxed his face,head resting on the carpet beside Dean's lap, sam gazed up.

"Whats happening to me?"

Dean honestly didn't know how or even what to answer to that question, in truth he never wanted to hear sammy so broken, ever saying that.


Dean carried Sam over to his bed, when he'd passed out again after another headache-vision thingy.

Dean didn't know what the hell they were, neither did Sam but he could tell they hurt like a bitch from hell.

Three hours ago, Sam had complained of a major headache, then dropped on the spot. Dean didn't even have time to stop his limbs from hitting furniture on the way down.

Even now Dean could see the ugly purple /black bruising covering Sam's collarbone, the kid hadn't woken up yet. Just remained in a very very deep sleep.

Great, what a timing to get killer headaches and nose bleeds that last an hour each-some good the powers that be are doing ha! higher power my ass.

Rustling of Sheets, and a gasp brought attention to his younger brother, sat straight up on his bed, face pale and his breathing heavy.

"You okay?" Dean asked attentively.

"What did you just say?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Er..I said ,you okay?" Dean replied looking slightly uneasy, He walked over to his brother.

"No, before. why I woke up,...something about powers?" Sam asked quietly rubbing his head. Deans face paled a little, but he only imagined himself beleiving what Sam said. Just a conincidence right?

"You got a headache again?" he asked more worriedly.

"Yeah, just now...I woke up, you were talking to yourself." Sam half laughed, then saw the look Dean shot at him.

"I havn't spoken since just then, to you sammy."

"But you were talking about...powers and...time or something, it's all hazy." Sam said defensively. His brother might think he was more of a freak now.

aww Sammy...what the hell's goin' on with you?

"I don't know, I hate this..." Sam sighed.

Dean turned stark white, and sure he broke his jaw when it dropped open.

"Sammy?" he cautioned, voice quivering slightly. "I never said anything."

"But..you asked what the hell was going on with me, I heard you." Sam rubbed his head again as the pain bubbled under the surface.

"I...I didn't say it Sammy...I thought it." Dean confessed breathlessly, barely believing it himself, he should've known the Winchesters never had coincidences.

"You...wait a minute...you...but I...oh god!" Sam breathed heavily, he couldn't have another ability, he just couldn't! He couldn't cope withy the visions as it was.

Sam started to hyperventilate.

So many 'couldn'ts' and not any 'coulds' as of yet. Dean was going to go ape, and Sam was losing it.

"This...this can't be-" Sam shuddered in a breath, wide eyes seeking out Dean.

"You goin' telekineti-crap on me or something?" Dean tried to be humorous. It fell flat.

"Yes, telepathy Dean." was the simple, honest and sounded friggin terrified answer Sam whsipered, still not really believing it.

Fuck! fuck! fuck! fuck! fuckin' hell! Dean glanced at Sam's stare. Oh...fuck Sammy, you can hear this?

Sam nodded, "It's not that bad of an ability, just a headache. At least it's not what some have..." Sam was lost in thought. There's a chance I still might not turn evil, telepathic powers aren't evil...it even helped ...or it could in certain posistions..."But why now?" Sam mumbled.

"What do you mean?" Dean said automatically in big brother stance.

"Some people can mind crontrol-remember? some can move things...I guess it's not an evil ability." Sam admitted.

"Evil?...you still think you're gonna go darkside?"

"This new ability almost proves it!" Sam said harshly.

"You won't Sammy." Dean said softly.

Sam stared incredulous.

I promise you Sam, nothing like that will ever happen...now stay outta my head, you're too young for this.

Sam smiled at that.

At least Dean was cracking jokes, that was a good sign.

Sam's smile broke bolder.

"I can tell when you're lying now, or when you don't tell me things. Or what you're planning." Sam smiled, even with a dimpled left side. Now that made Dean smile too.

"Ha! little brother not even tele-...whatever it is can break my poker mode." Dean winked.


Everything seemed to be going along better now...they were both happier-considerably happier than before, and things were settling in as not so much of a shock now.

Sam still had burning pains, sleepless nights and nightmares. But it didn't slow him down and really, most of the time he didn't even mind laughing at Dean's inner dialogue.

Sam's new ability wasn't dangerous, and if anything was a help with their line of work, bonus. But when they were eating fast food later that night and Sam's killer headache struck without any warning and Sam screamed, the days events of getting happy were trashed in a moment.

He pressed a hand to his throbbing and aching temples to try and delay the pain.

The chair he was sat in was laying on it's side, Sam in the same posistion not far from the fallen furniture.

"SAM!" Dean scrambled to catch Sam as he flew backwards reeling holding his head, hair fisted in his hands.

But Sam couldn't hear anymore...just muffled voices and snippets of conversations, prayers, arguments, hates, threats and most personal thoughts.

Nobody else was in the room, just the neighbouring motel users and a world of passing cars outside their door.

Realization hit coldly, and the only form of thought Sam had before the pain became a black hole was that he could hear EVERYONES thoughts.


Sam felt Dean's hands tighten their hold as he felt himself tense and heard clear as day as his eyes rolled back a womans sad voice.

"Save us Sam."

Dean continued to scream even as Sam went limp, and after the pain creases left his forehead.


Oh god...Sam.

Dean held him gently, each touch soft as he felt for Sam's pulse, checked his eyes and held

him tighter into a shake.

"Sammy...you're really freaking me out here, so I need you to wake up Sam. Wake up."

Sam didn't stir, but his breathing was fine, his pulse slowed, eyes normal.

He was sleeping. He was resting the crap out of whatever the hell was happening to them, because yes when it came to Sam, it was their shit to take. Not Sammy, not alone.

Dean heaved Sam up, carried him to the bed and got him comfy. And he did what he always did. Sat beside his brother until he woke up. He watched out for Sammy.

Dean would fight anything, kill anything and do anything for Sam. He would fight and find the thing causing this and he would save Sam. No matter what or how. Sam did not deserve this.

As Dean watched Sam's pale face, caught the odd drop of blood from a nosebleed earlier, he made that thought a vow.

Dean did the only thing he could and started research, body just a stretch from Sam.

He was going to end this he promised as he pulled out the laptop and got to work.


Sam seemed to shuddder awake, feeling sunk and achey when his eyes first started to open.

He found a melting pack of ice on a sore area on his shoulder and a duvet up to his chest.

"De-..." Sam coughed and reality slammed back into him like a shooting pain and he remembered the headache and the lights and hearing Dean, and then for a horrifying moment hearing everyone. Hearing her..."Save us Sam."

Dean was instantly on hand the moment Sam's eye cracked open. Glass of water ready with a straw, pain killers and juice.

"Hey dude, take it easy, have some water." Dean all but whispered.

Dean held Sam as he cleared his throat, held the water up but Sam's hand found it and he relished the cool feeling soothing his throat.

Sam sat up on his own fine, crossed his legs and rested his head in his hands, wiping his face.

"Sammy!? You're head?" Dean asked nervously.

Sam shook his head, now rubbing his eyes. "It's not bad. Just...an ache. I'm okay...I think."

Dean blinked widely back at Sam.

"You think!? Dude...you passed out, knocked yourself into deep sleep and that was three hours ago by the way! And you wake up and you're fine!?"

Sam swallowed at the fear he saw in Dean's eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm okay right now." Sam swallowed. "After I heard you...I dunno, I started hearing...everything. I heard so many people and then...black."

The brothers just shared a moment while Sam took a deep breath.

"What...I mean, what am I supposed to do? How do I control this? I don't want this!"

I can't handle this, I can't...I don't want this!

Dean reached over to grab a stack of papers and handed them to Sammy. Fear glinting in his green eyes.

"I know, you're freaked right now Sammy...but this is everything I could find about something like what's going on with us. You're gonna be okay. We'll figure this out."

I promise...

Sam heard clearly the worry lacing Dean's tone and took the papers in his hand, flicking through them.


Sad Sammy eyes locked onto Dean and he could feel what Sam wanted to say.

This doesn't make you a bad person. This isn't bad. We are going to FIX this. So it doesn't hurt you, you don't deserve to pass out for listening to a thought. Understand?

Sam nodded curtly as he heard Dean, clear as day.

"Glad you get it." Dean nodded. At least he knew it was still happening now. "Headache?"

"No...not really. I feel a bit like crap but I'm okay." Sam half smiled. The pain still lingered but it wasn't splitting his skull this time.

"Okay." Dean scanned his brother with his eyes quickly. He looked fine, a little pale and slow but okay. Relief crashed into Dean's beating pulse.

"In the notes there are stories of psyhic's who gain abilities in times of need, desperation..." Dean passed him the sheets as he spoke. Looked Sam in the eye. "Sometimes it's cos something Supernatural nearby wreaks havoc and throws your mojo."

Sam looked up across at Dean as he sat in the chair and moved closer.

"Checked the area, we might be dealing with a geist dude. Literally a mile down the road."

Sam's face paled. He frowned and typical Sammy-open book showed all the cogs turning into place.

"You think that's what going on?" Sam seemed to ask for permission that this was the truth, that it wasn't really him this time being a freak.

"It isn't a wraith...it's a poltergeist and a strong one at that."

Dean's eyes darkened as he revealed his research.

"It's a massive conincidence, it's killed two hunters that I know off a few years ago and the house is huge. If this thing is causing this from a mile away I am not taking you into that house." Dean's jaw twitched as he steeled. "If it isn't this thing, it's the five other ghosts that are trapped in that house."

Sam's mouth opened as he blinked wearily at Dean.

"It's calling out." Sam said after a moment softly.

"It wants you for your power Sam whether it's still there or not. They pick up that shit and they use it against you. This thing killed and trapped the five people it murdered. It isn't going to go lightly..." Dean stopped.

Sam knew he was going to say something bad because of the way his older brother worried his lip and hardened his eyes.

"The last five people it killed were psychic. It wants you Sam and driving the hell away from this fuck up town is all I want to do..."

"But you can't." Sam said sadly, an odd look of resignation on his face. "It doesn't matter how far I go. This won't stop till it does. Will it?"

Dean shook his head.

I'm so sorry Sammy. The only way this ends is killing that thing, it's ties on you go and the people it's trapped are freed.


Dean passed him the juice and some tablets.

Sam took them without argument and ran a hand through his hair.

"I can be bait."

Dean whipped round at Sam so fast his neck strained. "What the fuck!?"

"The last word I heard was, Save us. And now I know what that means."

"You think it won't kill you as soon as you step into that place?"

Dean stared at his brother.

"What else can we do? We can't just leave it..." Sam flicked through the papers in the stack. "The poeple who tried to leave died didn't they?"

Dean nodded sadly. "Soon as it got wind they were running it kept calling out to them. If they didn't come back...it'd use their powers against them."

One sick twist deciding if it can't have you, nothing will.

Sam swallowed. "One of the people that died, was there a woman?"

"She was the first." Dean pulled over the laptop to show Sam the picture. "Megan Glibb. She uh...she was telepathic."

Sam licked his lips. "Okay...so, how do we kill this thing without getting killed?"

"That's the hard part. Bobby doesn't know how if even a powerful cleansing will kick this thing. It seems when it kills a psychic, it gets stronger and that's five...so far."

"Dean, what-"

Dean's shrill rock suddenly toned from his phone as he shared a sorrowful glance at Sam and jumped for it, mouthing 'Bobby' to Sam as he picked it up.

"Hey Bobby. Yeah, he's up and ..." Dean turned back to quickly check over Sam. "We're good."

"Son, you ain't gonna' like what I dug up. Sonovubitch' didn't just kill the people when it was dead. He was a damn Devil worshipper. Did all kinds of black magic and sacrifices to get stronger, one day he went a little too far, got himself killed."

Dean caught Sam's pale face in the corner of his vision and saw him hold his head.


Sam shook his hand out, letting Dean know to carry on. "I can...hear Bobby. It's okay. M'alright."

"Dean?! Sam okay?" I wish I could get out to you boys...

Sam gasped, Bobby's voice shrill and loud in his head. He hadn't heard him over the phone just then.

Sammy...you handlin' this?

Dean's hand rested on Sam's shoulder as he squeezed and he felt Sam relax some.

"He's hanging on. It gets a little crazy when he can more than one person. It's okay. Just keep it coming."

"Dammit boy, this isn't good! I'm heading out to you. I ain't too far. Be a few hours. You NEED back up on this. He has an altar, we have to find it and destroy it and cleanse the house at the Same time, you understand? Exactly, or he wins. That clear!? It's the only way one of us doesn't end dead."

Sam swallowed. Bobby's worry running through his head, the background of the house, the sheer volume of bodies piled up cos of this man, when he was alive alone was staggering. Images of people flashed through his mind as he gasped again. Then there was now, all the people the sick bastard had got to even after his death.

Sam saw the girl, Megan who'd called out to him and her sad face, some of the house in the background and Sam caught a black dark shape rushing up to her, engulfing her as she screamed out to Sam "Sam! Save us!"

"Got it. You got any idea where it might be? We even have a cleansing this powerful?"


Dean's hand squeezed again as he felt the tremours shake through Sam and heard his hitched breath.

"I got that all sorted. This spell wipes the house, the grounds, anything this thing has touched. The ghosts go free, he loses his power and once we burn the altar, he's gone. It's the the only thing he can be tied to, but no one ever found it. The last hunters found a few hidden rooms, but they didn't get far..."

...before the bastard gutted them with their own hands...

"Great. Thanks Bobby, I'll start loading up. See you in a few?"

"I'm already on my way. You salt your door and ward it. It's already onto Sam, it's gonna be calling out to him. Stay in that damn room till I get there."


"Got it. On it now."

Dean stubbornly let go of Sam to thicken the salt layer at the door, spray paint the protective wards Bobby had described in hope to hide him and Sam.

Sam was still holding his head in his hands. Breathing strong through his nose, he hadn't looked up yet.

"Your head okay?" Dean asked quietly as he finished the final symbol.

"Better..." Sam mumbled.

"Could you hear Bobby?"

"Yeah... he's worried about this. Not a good sign..." Sam half smiled as he finally lifted his head.

"Dude, understatement." Dean scoffed and started packing his duffel. "I want this thing over with now Sammy...and I know I can't leave you here..."

If I do...that thing's gonna' come. And I can't protect you. Are you upto this at all Sammy?

"I'll be careful, I swear. I'm upto this."

The slight squint to Sam's eyes didn't propell that statement into belief for Dean and he sighed heavily.

"Bobby'll be here in a few hours, you just rest, eat...get ready. If any freaky thing starts to call out to you, you tell me okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure that won't be hard." Sam whispered.

"I mean it Sam, anything, okay? Weird feelings, spidey sense, anything..."

"I think...I saw a little of the house before when Bobby was talking to you. The same girl Megan asked me to save her again, then this dark shape just took her. I got the feeling she was warning me about something." Sam itched his forehead. "Maybe he didn't like that so he stopped her..."

"You know anything about him?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam shook his head, no. "I got the feeling they were all scared of him, trapped...who was he anyway?"

"Before the crazy cult worship? Crazy doctor that didn't get taken seriously. He was shunned, cut out...no one approved his thesis that you could harness human power..."

"He experimented on psychics?"

"He wanted to. Bobby found piles of dismissed papers he tried to publish, the more he was cut off, the more weird he got. He started looking too far, our kinda too far...found he could practice dark magic and he went off the map, bought a three story freakin' mansion, no one saw him much after that."

"Didn't anyone go looking?"

Dean shared a sad look with him.

"The psychics he killed?"

Dean bit his lip as he nodded. "Once people started going missin', literally a circle radious around our spooks house, hunters got involved. Bobby said they figured he'd bound himself to something, willing to bet it was his altar... they just never had time to find it..."

"Messy huh?"

Sam continued at Dean's worried frown. "Bobby...kinda filled in the blanks." The fact they had been torn apart by their own hands was awful and was strong for a poltergeist to do to one person, forget two hunters.

"You get why I'm the least bit thrilled about this right?"

It's after you Sammy...

"I get Dean, it won't be easy...but we haven't got a choice here."

"That's what I don't like." Dean answered.


It was only around seventy-five minutes later Bobby was hammering on the door.

Dean glanced at his sleeping brother, sandwich half eaten on the plate by his bed as the door banged again. Sam moaned as he blinked awake, sitting up to look at Dean.

"Bobby's mad?" Sam mumbled as he wiped his eyes.

Dean swung open the door as Bobby strode in, throwing a small bag to Sam and handing one to Dean before he started upending his own duffel with various arts and ins on Dean's bed.

"Hey, you might not getting graveyard dirt on my bed?"

"You using it?" Bobby mused and continued to sort his stash.

Dean pulled a bitch face as he sat beside Sam, both looking at their new necklaces with what looked like small hex bags attached.

"That's for our protection, put it on now, don't take it off. It'll be harder for it to get too close. But it won't last long."

Bobby separated his supplies into two bags. One he passed to Dean as he shouldered the other.

"I've got the cleansing bags. We've got triple spellwork to gank this bastard. You boys gonna' be okay? Sam? How you holdin' up?"

Sam nodded at their almost father. "I'm good."

Dean and Bobby shared a glance.

He's good.

Alrighty' then.

Sam smiled at the unspoken bond they all shared, ironically hearing the words he knew the looks gave.

"Okay...this is how this is gonna' go down..." Bobby started, house blueprints laid out before the brothers.


Their plan fizzled as soon as Sam set foot on the porch. He'd gone down with a grunt like a sack of potatoes, Dean lunging for him as he shouted his name.




Sammy! Shit kiddo'...

Sam, save us.

Save us Sam, please...


Sam...the basement...hurry...

Between the flashes of light and shunted clips of a dark hallway and an even darker basement, Sam saw Megan eerily standing haunted, looking to the floor of the basment and an updug patch of dirt just beneath her pale blue feet.

"Sam, save us. Now."

Megan's voice was loud in his head with an echoe, her voice terrified as she egged him on.

Sam shot up from where he sat curled in Dean's lap, gasping. "T-the basement...it's under it..." Sam heaved in a breath as he tried to stand. "We have to go, now..."

Bobby nodded at the steeled clenched jaw of the youngest Winchester and passed Dean back his sawn-off.

"I'll see to the house, get to that altar." Bobby said gruffly as he ran off the the West side of the house.

Dean eased Sam up as he swayed, leaning with him down the hallways as Sam pointed the way they needed to go.

Dean's grip tightened on Sam as he faltered once, his brothers hand coming upto his face as he felt his nose bleed.

"Shit Sammy-"

"M'okay...we need to finish this. " Sam grunted.

"Two corners left boys..."

"Bobby's got two to go." Sam said muffled by his hand.

Dean quickened his pace, kicking open a dusty door at the end of a dark hallway and then the next that lead down into pitch blackness.

He flicked his torch down to cut through the pitch as he steadied Sam.

"You with me?"

Sam only nodded, tight lines of pain carved into his face, the blood down his chin stark agaisnt his pale face.

They took the stairs quickly, finally touching the cellar floor and the air started to freeze.

Sam fell to his knees, hands reaching out the dig into the dirt where he knew the door to be.

Dean kept lookout, feeling the hair on the back of his head rise as he shone the light in line with his gun.

Sam found the handle and tugged, the earth was hard and suctioned the door as he pulled harder, finally lifting the hatch door up with a thunk as the heavy wood opened and fell back, reavealing a darker hole beneath.

There was no sound but Sam's heavy breath as he glanced down and saw a flash of Megan's screaming face and a force like a wave shot out from the hole flying the brothers back into the stairs.

They heard several thumps upstairs as the air started to cool again and Sam shook his head as he heard Bobby's soft pained voice.

"Bobby's hit...Dean..."

Dean was right by Sam's side, pulling him up. "No, no! Dean...you need to finish the cleansing..."

Dean didn't know how Sam had the strength but he shoved him back, wiped his bloody nose and took the duffel from Dean with the salt and gasoline. "I can do this...I can hear you, if you need anything. You need to get Bobby...I'll salt the altar, just...let me know when I need to light it..."

Dean was about to protest when he saw the resolve harden in Sam's eyes and his jaw tick. "Okay." Dean swallowed. "You promise me when you hear me you'll burn this bastard and we all walk out of here..."

"Dean...go...I got it."

Sam lowered his legs over the hole and creaked down the old worn stairs as Dean ran upto to find Bobby.

"BOBBY!?" Dean pelted into the long hallways, torch light swinging.


Bobby hollered, trapped under a bookcase, the third bag lodged into the wall just beneath his hand.

"Bobby, hold on..." Dean heaved the book case off and pulled Bobby free. "You hurt?"

"Just winded. Sam?"

"He went to find the altar, we need to hurry. I don't like how quiet this thing is..."

Together they bolted down to the final room, kicked a whole into the wall as they felt wind swirl behind them. Dean looked up to a smug decaying face as it materialised in front of them.

"Oh man, you are fugly..." Dean whispered as he felt himself thrown back, pinned to the wall just above the hole he'd kicked in the wall. Hex bag still tight in his fist.


Sam stumbled into the dark, his maglite cutting a way in but the darkness seemed to swamp him and stutter his breath.

Cold touched Sam's skin and he jumped back into the wall as he saw Megan glow dully before him, eyes sad. "Sam..."

"Megan...where is it?" Sam asked despite the pain slicing behind his eyes.

Her lips didn't move as she answered.

"Behind the wall. He has your friends. You have to be fast Sam..."

Sam swallowed the pain down and concentrated to hear Dean's voice.

Sammy...it has us pinned. Get to the altar...I've got the last bag ready, go!

Sam didn't need telling twice.

He pulled the sledge hammer out of his bag as he neared the end of the basement and let his palm fall flat against the wall.

The hot wave of pain and flash of Megan screaming had him jumping back with a gasp. He lifted the hammer and struck the wall, watching it crumble with brick and plaster.

He felt Megan appear behind him.

He's coming Sam...please, hurry.

After a few more hits there was a large enough hole Sam could climb through and he jumped in, knuckles scraping wood and brick as he stood inside. A large semi circle altar stood before him, various bones and bowls of what looked like blood placed on the large red cloth. It was defintley a binding spell he'd performed by the looks of the symbols painted around the altar, which also appeared to be in blood and then Sam saw the bodies.

Nearly seven of them, bones and hair and clothes still hanging in a wide circle around the altars walls. Their wrists shackled to the wall, blood in wide drag marks from the altar to each corpse.

"Holy shit..." Sam gasped.

He felt the burning of a headache before he caught Dean's worried voice echoing in his head.

Sammy...it's onto you. Watch your back.

A cold voice disturbed the silence as Sam went cold.

"I've been waiting for you Sam..."


"You think you can stop this cap'n creepy?" Dean coughed. "You're as good as toast." The rotting body of the doctor glared at him and Bobby.

"You aren't what I want..." The doctor muttered.

"Oh yeah...we know all about what you want you whackjob. You ain't getting any older than the night."

The doctor lifted his head suddenly as he seemed to hear something and Dean's heart jumped.


"You're hiding him aren't you?" The doctor laughed as he shimmered into dust and Dean screamed out for his brother.

"SAMMY!" Sammy...it's onto you. Watch your back!


The cold deep voice had Sam spinning the moment his head seemed to explode with voices.


Sammy! Shoot when you're ready, I can reach the final corner. We can't get free...I hope to god you can still hear this...

Sam you need to save us! Please!

Sam, son...you can do this...

He's going to sacrifice you, then he'll kill your brother and your friend. You have to save us Sam. NOW!

Sam dropped, scooted backwards as he clawed at his duffel for the salt, tipping it, spilling it everywhere and anywhere he could. His numb hands fumbled as he tried to blink through the crushing pain in his skull. He felt his nose bleed but also the salt scatter across the wide altar.

The poltergeist chuckled as it took a step forward.

Sam was leaning on the altar, salt poured he turned the can of gasoline over and watched it pour over the table, soaking into the cloth.

"You're strong Sam. I'll give you that...but no-one's ever made it this far and you won't get much further."

Sam screamed as images assaulted his mind of the hunters before, their lights shaking as they turned their weapons on themselves, screaming, blood painting the walls, the floor, the damn ceiling until their eyes stared sightlessly above and the giests's smiling rotting face blurred into view in front of him.


Sam blinked to clear his vision, hands fumbling for his lighter as his breath left his lungs and he found himself thrown into the wall, body pinned.

Sam coughed weakly, chest struggling to rise as he glared at the mad doctor.

"Y-you're si-sick..." Sam Said as he spat out a mouthful of blood.

"And you're mine. " The doctor smiled, pulling a curved looking knife from his pocket. "I haven't met anyone with a gift like yours Sam. Pity your brother doesn't share the talent. I don't have any use for empty muscle...I think you can gather what will happen to those two."

Sam got a flash of Dean and Bobby screaming before he jerked back to reality, nose bleeding again.


The doctor laughed, blade reaching up to Sam's shoulder he cut the plaid shirt away, the tee underneath and then sliced slowly into flesh.

Sam grunted, trying to lesson the pressure on his pinned body. Blood started soaking into his shirt and his head spun, not just from the pain.

The doctor carried the bloody knife to the altar, chanting wildly, ignorant of the salt, the gasoline now absorbed into the dark red cloth covering the entire altar. A right aimed shot at the can would light it up. That's all Sam needed if he couldn't move.

His shoulder started to burn, to sting and he felt himself grow tired, weak, his eyes hazing until the doctor leaned too close again.

"Ah ah ah, not just yet Sammy." The doctor singsonged, letting Sam fall limp to the floor, Sam's eyes blinking tiredly, not able to focus.

"What did yo-you...do...?"

"It's just the spell Sam. Don't try to fight it..."

Sam tried to stand but he fell back, head spinning as he breathed through the nausea.

He could see Megan and the others stand sadly just behind the doctor, faces full of guilt and sorrow.

"M'sorry... " Sam mumbled. His headache spiking as he heard Megan speak to him again.

Sam you can save us...you were sent here to save us...

Sammy...please be okay...don't let that bastard get to you...

Sam listen to them. They NEED you to save them, you need to save us...it's the only way to stop this-

"Megan dear, are you talking to our new guest?"

Sam gasped as the doctor turned and snapped his fingers and Megan was brought forward to where her body hung.

"I've told you about this before. I do not take kindly to disobediance..."

Megan screamed as the doctor touched her, tears streaming down her face as she locked eyes with Sam in the doc's vice like grip.


Sam shouted, hands reaching for her but the invisible force slammed him back into the wall.

Once he starts the spell you won't have long. But you can use his power against him. You'll be able to call out to Dean...

Sam shook his head and glanced to where a tall slim man stood in ghostly hue with the others. He smiled sadly at Sam and started to flicker out as Megan was thrown toward them with a cry.

The doctor stood before Sam with another knife, this straighter then the last, he reached out to Sam's chest and let it drag a fiery line down the length of his ribs, popping his buttons off and ripping his shirt.

"GUH! ughh..."


Dean tried endlessly to push himself free but the invisible force kept him pinned, his hand now hovered over the final hole in the wall though, any minute now he'd drop it in and the house would be clean. Hopefully Sam was still alive down there and they could finish this together.

Sammy...I'm going to finish this any minute...please give me something to say you're okay...

Dean sighed as only the quiet replied. "Sonuvabitch!"

"Dean...I ain't got any good feelings..." Bobby gruffly mused, tried his luck again and sagged heaving a breath. They couldn't dislodge the force pushing them still and neither could hear anything below.

Sammy...please...give me something...


Sam was left sagging into the wall, head leaning on his chest as the chanting the doctor started was filling his head with agony, voices, thoughts, images...he couldn't think straight as two hands dragged him forward and dumped him face first just before the altar.

The longer the spell was working, the brighter the doctor shone, his hold was stronger as he seemed to become corporeal.

Sam's hands reached into the back of his pants, feeling the cold steel of his magnum as he slowly pulled it free.

"You- you can't do this forever, someone's gonna' stop you...if we don't."

The doctor leaned over Sam, knife raised in the killing stance.

"Oh dear boy, with your death...I don't have to fear anything ever again. I can be free."

The ghost laughed maniacally at Sam's wide eyes and his double take on the symbols on the altar, the eighth empty shackles would finally house him and if Sam didn't stop this thing...he truly was free. The eight sacrifices is all he needed, the fact they were psychics just made him stronger.

He could get to anyone, feeding on their power...and no one would ever be able to stop him.

"I already feel more human Sam..." He winked at the fallen Winchester. "You really are a gift."

Sammy...please...give me something...

Sam swung his arm up, gun cocked, safety off, he fired lightning speed the wrought iron round and watched it sink into the doctor's chest with a sick squish.

"You're human enough to feel that." Sam smirked as the doctor choked and dropped his knife, clattering to the floor and saw the furious rage growing on his face.

"That was for my brother." Sam grunted.

Sam concentrated on Dean's voice above, his breathing, his heart beat and swallowed back a grimace as he tried to hold onto him... Dean do it, now.

It was worth the head splitting pain and the rush of blood from under his nose, because he knew Dean heard him, he felt it.

Sam flicked his free hand to his lighter and dropped it on the altar, with a woosh the flames lit up the room and the doctor screamed his anger as he ran at Sam, eyes wild.


Dean felt a thump to the air as he heard the gun's retort beneath him and the force dropped him and Bobby with a bang.


Dean do it, now.

Dean heard it clear as day in his head, Sam's pained voice and without missing beat he dropped the last hex bag into the hole in the wall as white light blinded him for a second and the windows exploded.

"SAM!" Dean shook off the glass, ran forward to where he knew the basement was and heard Bobby's heavy boots behind him.

Dean belted down the stairs and practically threw himself into the basement hatch as he still called out for his brother. "SAMMY! ANSWER ME NOW!"

Dean skidded to the half knocked hole in the wall and pulled himself through the rising smoke.


Sam was sprawled on the floor, too damn close to the fire as the flames licked up from the altar toward him.

The fire was crackling through bone, the blood bubbling as he heat cleansed the evil and dark black plumes of smoke wafted up to the short ceiling.

Dean crashed to his knees and pulled Sam away from the fire, his body hot and sticky with blood as Dean turned him over.

"Shit Sammy...hey Sammy!? Open your eyes...Sam!" Dean shook him but Sam didn't respond.

Bobby climbed in and helped Dean raise Sam, one of his arms on either of their shoulders.

A cloud of dust rose from the dirt as the spirits came into view and Dean stopped dead in his tracks.

"Sam saved us...thank you so much..." He saw Megan smile at him and watched as the spirits began to flicker to a brighter light and shimmer toward the roof.

"He's finally gone. " Megan said again and let her hand lightly caress Sam's face. "Sam's okay." She whispered as she began to shimmer out and dissolve into bright white light.

Dean didn't wait for the fire to spread as he pushed on, carefully fitting Sam through the hole in the false wall.

As Bobby held Sam's weight while Dean crawled through the jagged wall he felt Sam start to stir.

"Sam, son?"

Dean rushed forward to hold Sam as his hazy eyes opened and he fisted Dean's jacket.

"De-...ugh...s't over?"

"Hey Sammy, man hold on...we're getting out of here, now. You're okay. It's over."

Sam nodded in Dean's tight hold and tried to get his feet working to help the elder hunters upstairs.

It seemed to take them ages dragging the semi concious Winchester up and out of the house, but he was still with it, still holding tightly onto Dean.

As they carried Sam, Dean tried to ignore the blood soaking into his side from Sam's shoulder, the red stains on his chin and lips where his nose had bled and the slowness to Sam's movements.

"You still hearin' my melon Sammy...?"

Sammy? You okay?

"S'gone..." Sam mumbled, breath hitching as he tripped but Bobby was there to catch his falling ass.

"Idjits." Bobby grumbled.

The 'pala finally came into view and Dean sagged in releif, his head leaning into Sam's shaggy hair.

"Baby's taking us home..."

Dean folded Sam inside despite his cut off cries and nodded to Bobby to follow in his pick as the imapala's growls echoed into the early dawn.

Dean didn't care the gravel was dinging on his metal baby, nor that he skidded once or twice in urge to get back to the motel room to really see Sam.

His little brothers hand was wiping away blood from his nose, and as Dean caught a glimpse of the rivulets that ran down his neck he panicked.


"M'okay..." Sam muttered, voice hoarse.

Sam's shirt was ripped in a few bloody patches and dark smudges of black, probably from the fire muddied his complexion to look even paler in the early morning light.

Dean was white knuckling the ride, Bobby keeping up in the rearview, lights flashing. It was code, but Dean knew Bobby was on it. He was with him 100% on this.

The motel sign came up soon after and Dean did floor it, eager when Sam suddely sighed painfully and tipped his head back. "ugh..."

"Sam?!" Dean almost yelled, hand reaching for Sam's shoulder and altered suddenly for his knee. He could see the dark blood in the shadows and fear tightened in him.

"S'okay..." Sam lisped and Dean didn't exactly feel relief. Sam didn't have a fucking lisp!

Before the engine even stopped its roar Dean was heaving Sam out, touching the motels porch, Bobby slamming his own door in time as they kicked open their motel door and Dean dragged Sam out with painful grunts and clutches, the kid was white.

Dean dragged him to the room, careful to not let Sam even touch the ground as he heaved. Sam's chest to his, head in his neck, arms wrapped around Dean, fighting their way to hold on.

Dean booted the door in, wood snapping and laid Sam on the bed, his eyes barely open and shit. Just shit, he looked bad. Face white against the blood from his nose, his ripped shirt, dishelved coat and generally out of it, made both hunters uncomfortable.

"Bobby get-"

"Got it son." Bobby interupted, med kit already open and ready by Sam's limp side.

Dean shrugged out of his jacket, hands disinfected he started peeling off Sam's layers, careful of the bloody scratches and cutting the shirts free to avoid hurting Sam further.

"Sammy?...You okay there?"

Sam nodded, eyes a little slow, movements a little weak but he followed Dean.

"What happened?"

Dean looked upto Sam for reassurance he wasn't actually hurt really, really, bad.

"It- it 'twas a sacrificial altar... of eight. Once he got to eight..." Sam hissed as Dean nudged his shoulder and then quickly looked away as Dean started soaking gauze in peroxide and laying it onto his wound. "He'd be-be free..."

"Guh!...ugh...De-" Sam's jaw tightened, his fist twisted in the bedsheet then he lay breathing heavy, eyes glazed.

Bobby started wiping away at Sam's face. Some old dried and fresh blood matted all the way from above his lips to a small stain on his chest to join the other deeper slices.

"He used blood to start the spell, it must of connected me to the other spirits an'...made him stronger, but I could call out to you...and he became corporeal."

"Spell?" Dean asked, fearing the answer.

"S'okay...stopped him before it went too far. Got a warning." Sam smiled softly despite the pain shining in his eyes.

"The girl?"


"Popped up when the doc was toast. Said thank you. Said you were okay."

Sam smiled again despite his wince.

Dean pressed onto the gauze to soak Sam's wound and he stiffened underneath. The best way to get round this was distraction and Dean was a pro.

Bobby handed him a fresh gauze to soak and stepped back.


"Ugh...yeah. f'ter me...he was gonn'a be'free..."

"You said eight? He needed eight people for this?"

"Took anyone...they were all-all there..." Sam blinked back a gasp but Dean didn't miss the sad shimmer to Sam's eyes. "When he was strong enough...he was solid."

"The gunshot?" Dean asked nervously, second gauze pad ready to lay onto the long slice in the middle of Sam's chest. "I thought..." Dean swallowed as he caught Sam's water gaze. "You don't want to know what I thought..."

"Ready?" Dean asked, hands poised over Sam's chest with white gauze.

Sam nodded then bit his lip as he cried out and flung his head back, breaths gasping as the waves of pain died down.

"H-he...needed to bind the blood sacrifice to the altar, to him...and everyone else he killed, I guess It let me break through to you somehow...I dunno..."

"I found you sparko dude, out...right next to the damn fire." Dean steadied the wobble to his voice.

"Sorry." Sam choked. And Dean didn't know if it was the pain or the effort of keeping his eyes open or the fact he caught Dean's chin quiver and he knew exactly what he was thinking, despite losing his latest ability.

"Doc didn't like getting shot...he didn't like the arson more...screamed and...ran at me..." Sam licked his lips. "I d-don't remember much after that..."

"This was close little brother." Dean said, tight lipped. "Dude looked like ass."

Sam sputtered a painful laugh and smiled at Dean.

The wounds weren't too deep but they had bled badly, and whether that was whatever spell Sam was talking about or his dance with the mad doctor but Dean needed to stitch some of the deeper lines down Sam's chest.

"M'okay...we ended it, right?"

"House is already alight. There won't be much of anything left."

Both brothers looked to Bobby who'd already set out a beer for the trio and pills already with water for Sam.

"I may have left a few cans of gas around...to help." The eldest hunter shrugged.

The brothers shared a quick glance and cracked a smile.

"Bobby's a firestarter huh? Didn't see that one."

Dean gratefully took the beer Bobby handed to him and took a long swig.

"You boys are gonna' make me grey before my time." Bobby mumbled as he started laying salt lines and left the brothers to a quiet moment.

Dean was smiling when he looked back down at his brother, stark white bandages with dots of bright red showing through, black ash smudges and blood stains covered Sam but Dean still smiled, because Sam was smiling back at him and he was okay.

Thank fuck!

They were okay, the bastard didn't win.

"You ready for my amazing stitch work session?" Dean chuckled at Sam's shaking head.

"Okay, let me move you up, get you comfy and we can let Bobby's good drugs kick in huh?"

Sam downed the pills Bobby had set aside for him with the beer, not the water and Dean scoffed. He helped Sam sit further up the bed, pillows bunched under his back as Dean started threading his needle and disinfecting the equipment.

After finally cleaning the wounds with holy water, (On Bobby's firm instructions "DEAN! Ain't I taught you anything! If it's a Supernatural wound, you need Supernat-"

"-ural healing, yes...yes Bobby." Dean had his fresh bandage ready and Sam was already starting to drift, goofy grin beaming as the drugs kicked in.

"He likes those. You might have to leave me some of them to shut him up when I need some 'me' time." Dean chuckled.

"Sammy? You ready man?" Dean asked even as Sam's face softened as he drifted to sleep.

"Okay..." Dean began stitching, wrapped Sam's wounds and cleaned up his face and chest a little more. "Dude, you can shower first in the morning." Dean moaned as he finally sat on his own bed and Bobby pulled his chair closer.

"Man...what a night!"

"Can I just say I am really fucking glad this thing is over." Dean shuddered a breath, eyes he knew shone the terrified truth of nearly losing Sam to this to his good friend, his father.

"I speak for all of us when I agree to that one." Bobby gruffly replied, taking a swing of his beer.

The clinking of beers echoed in the silence, until the TV flicked on and the sound of arguments could be heard until the early afternoon rays brought Sam back around.


"-NO! You can't say that if he took a right, the cops wouldn't have seen!-"

"Don't talk to me about dodging cops! I been doin' that since you was droolin' boy!"

"Oh, dude... that's low. No way you could win a police chase ten years ago, never mind now."

"Is that a challenge boy!?"

"Okay. Yeah, it is! You gonna' hop to it grandpa!?"

Sam moaned loudly and pulled the covers over his bandaged body.

Both elder hunters glanced back to check on Sam.


"M'fine. Some stupid yahoos kept' waking me up."

The hunters chuckled and turned back to the TV.

"SEE! See...you couldn't pull a skid like that and not break down in your hunk' a' junk!"

"My junk!? Boy how many times have I fixed your 'baby'?!"

Sam pulled the covers tighter as the banter grew louder, but he couldn't shake the grin that broke his face at his brothers outrage to Bobby's airquote of 'Baby'.

"You did not just air quote at me..."

Sam chuckled under the covers, his dull aches forgotten, his worries buried for now in the greatful noise of his brother's laughter and Bobby's tame growls.

Sometimes, this was as good as it got for Sam and he relished in the moment. This, he could handle just fine.



So, I hope you liked how this turned out.

I thank you if you've read this story from the way beginning, it's been a while! And I thank you so so much. Effort sticking with this fic for so long. I'm getting round the polish off the rest!