A Few Notes

Warnings: Spoilers for the season 3 finale. It takes place exactly where it left off. So for the love of Kripke if you haven't seen the finale, do NOT read this.

Rating: T for language and disturbing images(hehe, does that crack anyone else up when they see that on a rating? Anywho, it applies for this) and also E for Emo(tehe)

Other Stuff: Alright, this is THE first fanfic I've written where I knew exactly what I wanted to do, when I wanted it. This entire story is complete except for common editing and a necessary addition to a chapter later on. So because I'm so awesome, and on pure necessity cause I'm going on vacation for all of September, I'll try to update twice a week. So, I really enjoyed writing this, I hope ya'll enjoy it equally(more? hopefully ; ) as much. Let me know.


"Can you hear me? Can you feel me in your arms? Holding my last breath, safe inside myself are all my thoughts of you, sweet raptured light it ends here tonight."

-Evanescence "My Last Breath"


Chapter 1

The sweet taste of revenge began to blossom through Sam's senses as he drew back the knife to land the killing blow on the demon Lillith. She had sicced the hellhound on Dean and forced Sam to watch. Sam had been immobile and incapable of doing anything about it. He had shouted at her, screamed his desperate anguish...and the demon had enjoyed it. She had laughed at Sam's cries of agony as he watched the life torturously pulled from his brother. She had killed Dean. "Mistake..." Sam swung the blade down towards Lillith. Before the knife was able to hit its mark, black smoke shot from the body of the poor girl unfortunate enough to endure not only one, but two demonic possessions in her short lifetime. Sam's arms bent down over his head in an automatic impulse to protect himself. The demon finished its retreat from its host and disappeared through a vent in a ceiling. The young girl's body, most likely long dead by now, collapsed on the floor next to Dean.

Sam's arm drifted down to his side as his attention turned fully to the complete stillness of his brother's body. Time slowed to a stop. The room seemed to go completely silent and Sam's rapidly crumbling world narrowed to include only himself and Dean. His heart thumped painfully and he drew in a few heavy breaths in attempts to make up for the air that he felt absent within his tight chest. Adrenaline died quickly away and pure helplessness and sorrow were allowed to take over. Legs that felt as if they were made of both lead and jell-o took Sam over to where his brother lay. Sobs jumped in his chest and he bit at his lower lip in attempts to hold them back as he kneeled down next to Dean. He took a brief look at his brother's bloodied and marred appearance before placing a hand behind Dean's head and easing him up gently. Dean's eyes stared blankly ahead and his lips parted slightly. His expression was relaxed, but far from peaceful.

"No." Sam's lips trembled. Tears streamed down his face. "No." It came out as a plea as Sam felt the final thread holding up his world snap and everything came crashing down on him.

"Dean." The name choked out as a broken sob. Sam hung his head for a moment, quiet tremors shaking his body, before looking back up. Dean's eyes continued to stare, mocking Sam in their refusal to look at him. Sam sucked in a loud breath and went to shield the haunting gaze. He paused half way. The realization that he would never again be able to see the piercing green of his brother's eyes stopped Sam in his tracks and brought with it a fresh wave of sorrow. He drew his hand back and gripped a handful of Dean's jacket. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth against the unbearable emotions.

"God...Dean." He wrapped his arms around Dean's inert body, cradling him close, and hid his face against him. The silent sobs that Sam had held in before refused to be restrained any longer and instead loud, broken cries filled the room. Sam could still feel warmth in the figure he so desperately clung to and he wrapped his arms tighter as if to preserve it for just a little while longer.

Guilt fell heavily on Sam's already loaded mind and his head began swimming with self-accusations. "This is my fault. If only I hadn't let my guard down. If only I'd killed that bastard, Jake, when I had the chance, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't have died, Dean wouldn't have had to bring me back. This is all because of me. He did this for me..." Sam's mind suddenly switched from guilt to anger. "...but I didn't ask him to." He fisted the back of Dean's jacket in his hands and shook him weakly.

"You stupid bastard." Sam whispered shakily. His chin trembled and he shook his head slowly. Sam cried bitterly and quietly for a few moments then shook Dean again, more forcefully this time.

"You selfish son of a bitch!" Before the screamed words even had time to echo back to him, Sam was only sobbing harder over regret for having said them.

"Oh God, Dean. I'm sorry-I'm sorry." Sam whimpered. "I didn't mean it, I...I didn't..."

The ever-constricting feeling in his chest stopped Sam from finishing his sentence, and he instead hid his face against Dean again. Large, silent tears trailed down his face and violent sobs wracked his already shaking body as he sat huddled over his brother's painfully still body. After awhile Sam began to rock gently back and forth. Quiet apologies, pointless words of comfort, and his brother's name whispering quietly through the silence.


Bobby snuck through the back door of the house and shut it quickly behind him. He glanced out through the window and gave the kitchen a cautious once over before determining that he had not been followed and no enemy was waiting for him in that particular room of the house. Bobby looked at his watch. It was 12:37 A.M. He rushed deeper into the house, eager to find Sam and Dean and fearing what he might discover once he did.

He checked a few rooms with no luck. Bathroom, nothing. Next room. It turned out to be just a closet, but still nothing. The hallway lead to the living room and Bobby stopped short. Deep scratches in the floor caught his attention. He followed the trail of marred wood until he came to a set of double doors with glass panes at the top. They stood slightly ajar and a broken line of what Bobby recognized to be Goofer dust lay just inside the door. "Oh God..." Fear renewed itself and squeezed harder around him. He wasn't sure what he'd find when he first started towards the house, but somehow he just couldn't not hope that Sam or Dean had somehow found a way out of the deal at the last minute. He threw open the doors the rest of the way and froze.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." The words came in a rush as the air pulled from his lungs. Bobby's hand clutched at the handle on the door for support, the sight before him causing his heart to fall rapidly and his legs to feel unsteady. Sam sat huddled on the floor, his head and body bowed forward over his brother's motionless body cradled in his arms. Dean was covered in blood; flecks of it colored his otherwise pale face and splashed over his neck. Bobby was only able to glimpse a bloodied tear on Dean's left leg; Sam's body prevented much further assessment. But by the looks of the growing puddle of blood on the floor, Bobby could only assume that it wasn't good.

Shock stole the luxury of tears away from him as he finally released the door handle and shuffled into the room. Sam didn't look up. He showed no signs of even being aware that anyone had entered the room. Bobby carefully thought over what he should say. What could he say? On one hand, he wanted to comfort Sam, though he realized that that would in all probability be impossible, but on the other he needed to convince Sam to leave. The demons surrounding the house had vacated their hosts and fled suddenly and without explanation, but experience had taught Bobby that such lucky breaks should not be taken for granted. They had to get out of there. Quickly.

Bobby moved before the vacant stare of Dean's eyes. The vibrant green was still there, but the spark that made Dean Dean had faded. A shiver and a sudden wave of nausea overcame Bobby and he quickly averted his gaze. He swallowed back the urge to vomit and worked up the courage to speak. "Sam?"

Sam didn't respond or make any moves to look up at Bobby. A shiver caused the young boy's shoulders to visibly tense, but Sam said nothing. Tears finally found their way to Bobby's eyes. Seeing Dean like that -seeing Sam like that- was just way too heartbreaking and more than he could take. He quietly moved to the other side of Dean so he was facing across from Sam and kneeled down.

He swept his gaze carefully over Dean's body and focused finally on the pool of blood beneath him. Bobby wondered if Sam had been around when this happened to him. He wondered if Sam had seen when this happened to him. Bobby squeezed his eyes shut at the thought and turned his face away. He couldn't imagine having to witness that. And he didn't want to.

He turned back after a moment and looked again at Dean's staring eyes. Bobby wiped the back of his sleeve under his nose and reached a shaking hand to close the green eyes that he had always felt held many more years than the actual age of the man they belonged to.

"Don't touch him." The growled warning caused Bobby to quickly withdraw his hand.


"Don't touch him." Sam repeated, but he still refused to look up or loosen his hold on Dean. A flicker of fear flashed in Bobby's eyes. He had already seen the wrath, hurt, and emptiness of the two eldest Winchesters when they had suffered such a great loss. It was not something that was easy to witness and even less easy to offer help for. Neither John or Dean had accepted Bobby's comfort, and he didn't expect Sam would be much different. But still he had to try.

"I'm sorry, Sam." The shaking in Sam's body took on a little more severity, and Bobby could only assume that he had gotten through to him a little. "Sam, the demons fled for some reason. But they could come back at any time. We should really make a run for it."

Bobby waited...nothing. No reaction. "Sa-?"

"I'm not going anywhere." The words were flat yet unyielding. Typical grieving Winchester tone. Bobby couldn't help but be reminded of hearing those same words, said in the same way, coming from Dean exactly one year ago. Dean had refused to leave Sam. Had refused to bury him, had refused to burn him, had refused pretty much anything Bobby suggested. Bobby would not make the same mistake of pushing further, so he reasoned gently instead.

"Sam, it's not safe. They could come back, Lillith could come back, at any second."

"Good." Sam said flatly. Bobby recognized a losing battle when he saw one. Sam wasn't going to leave, and urging him to do otherwise would almost certainly lead to Bobby being incapacitated in an extremely violent manner and/or yelled at angrily. Bobby wished to avoid both scenarios, but before he could come up with another idea, Sam spoke again.

"Let her come. Save me the trouble of hunting her down and killing her later."

"We'll find her." Bobby assured, trying to hold Sam's attention by appealing to his current state of mind. It worked. Sam's head moved a little from side to side before he raised it to look up. Bobby's breath caught as his eyes met Sam's. The stare was chillingly blank and cold and Sam's expression was the same. His face was pale and the traces of tears lead away from red-rimmed, watery, and puffy eyes. A smear of Dean's blood had half-dried on Sam's forehead, giving his overall appearance a gruesome and slightly psychotic air.

"I'm going to kill her, Bobby." Sam held Bobby's gaze steadily. It made the older man uncomfortable; the look in Sam's eyes was terrifying and the piercing gaze refused to waver.

"I don't care what it takes or how long, she's dead...I won't stop 'til she's dead."

Sam's voice was so flat and devoid of emotion that it was more terrifying than if he had sworn the oath while showing the anger that reflected his words. Bobby swallowed hard and tried to hide his fear by nodding in silent agreement. Sam looked at him for another minute before shifting his gaze to Dean. The coldness in Sam's eyes dwindled a bit to show the true pain and sorrow beneath it. His face contorted slightly and he sucked in a deep breath before again hanging his head and hiding his face against Dean. Silence reigned again, filling the air with a nearly solid heaviness.

Bobby felt out of place. The tragic scene before him was one that should not be witnessed by anybody and he felt like he was seriously encroaching on Sam's privacy. He tried to think of something to do or say, but also felt that doing or saying anything would be inappropriate at the time. A muffled whimper of a sob came from Sam.

"I'm sorry I couldn't find a way. I promised you I would...I promised you and I didn't...I'm sorry...God, Dean I'm so sorry."

The feeling of being an unwelcome onlooker of a private moment grew and forced Bobby to stand and quickly leave the room. He needed a moment of his own anyway. He stumbled back into the hall and walked down a ways before stopping and holding a hand firmly against the wall. He scrubbed at the tears running from his eyes and took in a few ragged, deep breaths. Sam and Dean were like sons to him, and he had had to watch them both be stolen away from the other. Stolen away from him. He didn't feel privileged enough to be thought of as a father to the Winchester boys, but perhaps a favorite uncle. He had after all known John and his boys since Dean was a toddler and Sam was still crawling.

Bobby rubbed at his eyes again, still failing to keep them dry. He slammed a fist against the wall. "Dean you stubborn ass of a man!" Deals weren't supposed to be forged with demons. The bargain was never fair and they never ended well. And it was especially never fair to the person for whom the deal was made. Bobby had not made it any secret that he disapproved of Dean's deal, but he never voiced that Dean—though intending to do nothing more than save his little brother—may very well have taken Sam down with him .

Sam was a good man with a kind heart and a kinder soul. The way that he died was terrible and unfair, but the probability that Sam did go "some place better" was very high. Bobby never mentioned to Dean that by making that deal, by forcing Sam to go on without him in one year's time, he may have sentenced Sam to the same fate that he himself would have to face. The ever-looming threat of Sam's powers taking on more terrifying heights had always been stuck at the back of Bobby's mind. He had only seen flashes of the darkness within Sam a few times, but it had always scared him terribly.

Dean was Sam's rock. He kept him grounded and centered, always had. And without him around to comfort, reassure, and protect, it was troubling to think how Sam might react. Bobby had seen the same cold, brutality in Sam's eyes when he stated that he was going to hunt down and kill Lillith that he had seen in the graveyard back in Wyoming after Sam had shot the kid who had opened the gates of Hell. Bobby feared that the darkness may have already taken over, but he vowed to be there for Sam to stop it from escalating any further. It would have been Dean's dying wish, Bobby had no doubt. "Watch out for Sammy. Take care of him." Bobby could hear the words clear as crystal in his mind.A flash of Dean's torn and bloodied body drowned out the clarity of the voice and Bobby covered his eyes with a hand.

"Lord, please have mercy on him." Bobby prayed quietly.

"Bobby!" Sam's panicked cry immediately sent Bobby running back towards the room. Sam looked up as Bobby ran through the doors. The coldness had vanished from the blue-green eyes that stared wide at Bobby. The indifferent, psychotic look had washed off his face and...was that...hope?

"He's alive!" Sam's voice cracked and shook. Bobby stared dumbfounded.


Sam looked back at Dean. "He's..." Large, shiny tears rolled down Sam's flushed cheeks. "He's alive."

To Be Continued...


Hehehe, Kripke has turned me into a total cliffy whore. So there it is: chapter un. Hope ya'll enjoyed it. If you would, please tell me if I managed to write in-character. That is always most important to me to try to achieve. I often fear I lose the boys' characters when I crank up the EMO to 11. So seriously, ANY review is a good review in my eyes...well...except maybe one like "This sucks. You suck. Never write again." but anywho, I'd love to hear what ya'll think: )

Reviews are like Dean and I'm Sammy(Aw)