Happy birthday Supernoodle. I wasn't going to write this week, but a little birdy told me that I had better cos it was your birthday.

I knew then that I had to, for you are so awesome, and have been so great to me. So, this one is for you! Have a super day! xo

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John leans over Dean and whispers, "God, what have I done?"

Silence.

Dean lays there, numb, unconscious, blood seeping through his shirt.

His breathing is labored, and comes in short, raspy bouts, that have John scared out of his mind.

He grabs a bottle of whiskey, a needle and thread, praying he can fix Dean again.

His hands shake with nerves and he curses.

"Damn it Sam."

**

Sam is miles away, dead asleep in his bed, when he hears a voice.

He bolts upright in his bed.

"Sam?" Jess whispers, used to his nightmares by now.

He takes a sharp breath in and whispers one word only.

"Dean."