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Sam ran into the hospital and sprinted up the stairs, ignoring the curious glances he drew from the people he passed. It was only when he reached the floor Dean was on that he slowed down, his heart throbbing with panic as well as exertion. He paused as he reached Dean's room, taking a final look around. He was sure that the Drew had not reached the hospital yet, but he was also sure that it would only be a matter of time before it arrived. It was furious that he had escaped, and he was worried that it would take out that anger on his brother. Once he had steadied his breathing and convinced himself that the Drow was not lurking in the shadows of the corridors, Sam ducked into Dean's room and headed towards his brother's bed, dumping the bag with the stake and their father's journal in it on the chair he usually sat in.

Dean looked amazingly peaceful, his eyes closed, a small smile pricking the corners of his mouth as if he were remembering happier times. He was still pale, and deep blue blurs darkened his eyes, but he looked more rested and calm than he had in weeks. No, months... it pained Sam to disturb him, but he didn't want Dean unalert when the Drow finally made an appearance. Besides, Dean's mobile was clasped in his hand; it was clear that he wanted to be awakened as soon as anything of importance happened. Sam moved to his side and gently shook Dean's uninjured arm.

"Dean? Wake up. Its me, Sam."

Dean groaned in his sleep, unconsciously turning his head away from him as if he were a child being told to get up for school. Sam paused, and then shook him again, desperate not to move him too much and hurt him.

"Dean!" he hissed again. "Dean, come on, wake up for me."

Dean's eyes blearily flickered open, glazed with painkillers. He focused on his brother and blinked slowly. Sam cursed under his breath - the nurses must have given him more drugs and dulled him down. No doubt finding him with a mobile in an ICU unit wouldn't have helped his cause much. When the Drow arrived, Sam was sure Dean would find it hard to defend himself. Sam would have to protect him, maybe get him out of the room so that when the Drow came it would only find himself...

"Hey, Dean," Sam said, leaning over Dean. He waited for his brother's eyes to connect with his before he continued. "I need you to wake up for me, man. I think that the Drow might be coming back."

That woke him up a little. Dean's eyes sharpened and he pushed himself up a little. Sam held him steady with one hand and with the other pulled one of his pillows up for Dean to lean against. He gently helped Dean to ease back against it, biting his lip as his brother's hands fumbled. Dean was next to helpless. Sam leant against the bed, keeping one hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Dean, listen to me. I've got the stake ready, and I've brought dad's journal along too, but you have to get out of here, okay? I really don't think you're up to this now, and you can't get hurt any worse."

Dean screwed his eyes shut, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "S-Sam... ya can't... do it alone..."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly going to help are you?"


"No, Dean, not this time," Sam replied brusquely. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself over this. I can do it. Now, we're going to get you out of here maybe to another room or something."

Dean shook his head, but Sam ignored him. He pulled back the covers of the bed and took Dean's uninjured arm, pulling him upright. Dean winced and fell back heavily, unable to support himself.

"Damn it," Sam muttered, feeling sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Dean, you have to try..."

His voice trailed off. He knew that Dean was trying as best he could, but his body just couldn't take it. After all the pain his body was finally giving in to rest, and the drugs were making it more than difficult for him to let go. Sam let go of him and ran his hands through his hair, panic rising in his chest.

What am I meant to do? What the Hell am I meant to DO?

He chewed on his lip for a few moments, and then turned and strode to the door. He shut it tightly and put the chair against it, leaving the bag on Dean's bed so that he could reach it quickly. He put both hands against the door, closing his eyes. He just had to keep it shut and then everything would be fine. He could still save Dean. A soft scratching sound came from behind him and he froze, his heart jerking in his chest. The door wasn't the only entrance to the room.

There's a window here... how could I be so stupid?

Sam span around just in time to see two glaring eyes locking with his. Black jaws opened wide in a snarl of fury. Cold moonlight bounced off dry, scabby skin. Sam opened his mouth in horror.


He got no further. The window shattered into shards as the Drow hurled itself through and onto the floor, screaming as the glass dug into its skin. It turned and launched itself at Sam, who ducked just in time and made a dive for the bed. His hands closed over the bag and he thrust one into it. He barely had time for his fingertips to brush the wood before the Drow had turned and attacked once more, clasping one hand on his injured shoulder and digging its bony fingers in deeply. He let out a scream of pain and darkness rose up over his vision. He felt the floor against his back, felt the pain as the Drow scrambled over him and dug its claws into him.

"Dean g-go!" he yelped before another wave of agony rolled over him and he let out a second scream.

He forced his eyes open and found himself staring up at the Drow, its face contorted into a scowl of fury. It snarled and snapped at him but he jerked to the side, gasping as its palm drove into his shoulder wound. Its jaws drew closer to his face and he shut his eyes, gagging as its rancid breath invaded his lungs. He clenched his jaw and waited for the end.

God, I hope Dean got out okay...

It was then that the Drow let out an unearthly howl and arched away from him. Sam's eyes snapped open and he looked up to see the Drow coiled away, blood dripping from its gaping jaws, the soaked tip of the purified stake protuding from its chest. Sam's eyes lifted. Dean stood over the Drow, his hand curled around the hilt of the stake, his whole frame trembling from the effort he had put into the blow. But his mouth was set in a hard, straight line and his eyes glittered with revenge as he glared down at the creature.

"No one," he growled. "Touches my brother."

He released the stake and kicked the Drow hard in the side, sending it tumbling over onto the floor. Sam scrambled back and away from the dying monster, still struggling to breathe normally. He rose to his feet, shaking, and moved to Dean's side. Together they looked down at their hunt.

"You okay, Sammy?" Dean mumbled.

Sam put a hand on his brother's arm, and Dean leant into him. "Y-Yeah," he said breathlessly. "Yeah... I'm okay."

Dean trembled and Sam pulled him over to the bed and sat him down on it. Dean's eyes were already glazing once more with pain, his head drooping slightly as he fought to keep awareness. Sam put a hand to his shoulder where he could feel blood pumping from the wound, already beginning to feel light-headed. He cast one last glance at the Drow, which had ceased moving.

"Its okay," he whispered again.

"I know," Dean breathed. "Its... its over."


The jerks and spasms of my body gently came to a stop, and I found myself lying on the cold ground half in and half out of death. I could feel coldness spreading over me, wrapping me in its freezing embrace. The foul taste of my own blood filled my mouth, so unbearably sour that I could hardly breathe. Agony wrenched through my body with every gurgling gasp I took. I forced my eyes open and looked up at the two men, who had moved away from me. The tall one still hadn't released his hold on the other, and the look of pure relief and love on his face was so strong that it made me feel sick. I tried to heave myself away from him, but my body would no longer obey me. My eyes were closing against my own will.

My greed had brought on my own end.

In my last glimpse of life before the darkness dragged me away, I looked at them again. Two hunters. Two great hunters. I had never really had a chance...

No. NO. I would not admit it. I would not...

I... wouldn... not...



Sam tilted his head back and soaked up the warmth of the sun on his face. He shut his eyes, allowing a smile to widen on his face and pushed his hands into his pockets.

"Practicing for your modelling agency, Sammy?"

Sam grinned and opened his eyes, turning his head to look at Dean as his brother sauntered out of the hospital doors as best he could with a crutch under one arm. He pushed away from the Impala as Dean reached them and looked down at the car, his eyes shining. He ran his hand over the glossy black, sighing.

"Oh, baby, I've missed you so much..."

"Want a minute with the car, Dean?"

Dean ignored him. "I didn't think I'd ever see her whole again. They did her up well... oh, god, she's beautiful..."

"Dean, seriously," Sam said, raising his voice.

Dean looked up. "Okay, okay, lets go."

"Okay. But remember, I'm driving."

Dean scowled. "I could drive," he muttered.

"Maybe, but you won't."

Sam moved around to the driver's side of the car and slipped in, waiting paitently for Dean to sort himself out. It had been days since the Drow's death, and the hospital was finally prepared to let them go. Not that they would be hunting. After Sam had called Bobby back and told him everything that had happened, the older hunter had told them - not asked them, told them - to come and stay with him for a while.

Sam slid the Impala into gear and reversed away from the hospital. Dean let out a small cheer as they left its parking lot, and Sam grinned.

"Out and onwards, huh Sammy?" Dean asked, thumping the dashboard and reaching for the tape player. "We are outta here!"

Sam couldn't help but laugh along with him as Metallica thumped out through the car, and leant back in his seat. Everything was okay. Well, until the next hunt.

All together now - awww! Nice fluffy ending, hoped you guys liked it! Please please review - hope it worked alright!