Disclaimer: We also live in a happy world where everything is perfect... (I WISH!)

Sam is 16, Dean is 21.

Okay... so now Bobby and the others DO exist... sorry for the unrealistic aspect of the story that is the extra characters :PP

I'm so sorry for the late update X'( But we're headed towards the end now...

Enjoy chapter seventeen!

Dean practically jumped out of bed when a scream pierced the silence. Instinctively realizing it was his brother, he ran to the other bed and grabbed his brother by the shoulders. "Sam!"

Sam's scream abruptly stopped, but as soon as he saw Dean, he broke out sobbing, grabbing his brother's arms in a death grip. "I-It was you..." Sam sobbed out. "God, please don't leave me!"

John flicked on the light, watching his youngest with worry. "Sam," John said quietly, "We're not gonna leave you."

Sam looked over at John with swollen red eyes. "Dad?"

John and Dean both froze. "Sam, do you remember him??" Dean asked anxiously.

Sam looked over at Dean, looking a little confused. Then his eyes suddenly widened. "No!" Sam pushed Dean back, making him fall hard on the floor.

"What the hell, Sammy!" Dean said, more worried than anything else.

Sam's head swiveled between Dean and John, visibly becoming more agitated. He started to shake his head. "Th-this isn't possible..." Sam whimpered.

Dean swallowed hard, already noticing the change in Sam's behavior from the insane-child-state. "Sammy... what's wrong?"

Sam looked up at Dean and stared with such intensity, Dean though Sam was going to have an imprint of his face on his eyes. "You're dead." Sam's eyes flickered to John. "Y-you, too... I-I saw your bodies! I saw everything!" Sam screamed. "Y-you can't be here! You're dead! Dead! Gone!"

"W-we know," Dean said shakily. "But it was a hoax. We didn't die. Some witch set this all up to mess with you. We're here! We didn't die!"

Sam looked up at his brother, tears starting to fall down his face. He visibly started to calm, though he was still very agitated. "I remember. I remember... everything." Sam looked at his father. "'M sorry... I forgot."

John sat on the bed next to his son. "You forgot what, Sam?"

Sam cast his eyes down, avoiding his family's gazes. "Forgot you," Sam mumbled, feeling like the worst person in the world. "'M sorry... I d-didn't mean to." Sam quickly wiped his tears away, hoping that somehow his father didn't see them.

John swallowed hard, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam flinched a little, but didn't shrug it off. "Sam, after everything you went through, I'm not gonna get mad at you for something as simple as forgetting me."

"What about being weak?" Sam squeaked out. "I-I couldn't fight back a simple human. How can you expect me to fucking hunt??"

"Sammy..." Dean placed a hand on Sam's knee. "That Ted bastard was bigger and stronger than you. And obvious had some moves of his own. He seemed to be as a good a fighter as Dad. If Dad started... torturing you like that, I don't think even I would have been able to fight him off."

Sam swallowed, still avoiding their eyes. Finally, he backed away from them, shrugging their hands off. "I wanna go back to sleep."

John nodded. "Sure." He got up and flicked the light off. He gave his sons one last glance before crawling into his bed.

"Do you want me to sleep here still?" Dean asked. "'Cause I can move to the couch if you'd prefer that?"

Sam barely gave his brother a passing glance before looking away. "W-whatever you want."

Dean nodded. "Alright." He lifted the covers Sam was sitting on. "Get up and scoot your butt over."

Sam gave a small sigh, glad his brother had decided to stay. He did as his brother said, then crawled under the covers and lay beside his brother. "Y-you're not mad?" Sam asked with a whisper.

Dean shook his head. "I'm not mad. There's no reason for me to be mad."

Sam gave a small nod. "I still feel... not right. Like the world's not the way it was before."

Dean scoffed. "I really didn't expect you to get better with one chick flick."

Sam gave a half smile. "Yeah... So you're not mad?"

Dean sighed. "Read my lips, Sammy. I'm. Not. Mad."

Sam nodded, relaxing a little. "Okay. 'Night."

Dean huffed. "'Night, Sammy."


"So where we going?" Dean asked the next morning.


Dean nodded, looking over at his slumbering brother. "What the hell happened last night?"

John looked over at his youngest, thinking about the events of the previous night. "I think Sam's brain finally figured he was ready to deal with the shit he's gone through. Obviously Sam's not just going to suddenly be better, but it's probably a good sign."

Dean nodded. "Okay." He bit his lip. "Actually, while we're waiting for Sam to wake up..." Dean turned towards his father. "Why don't you tell me what happened between you and that witch?"

John closed his eyes. "Dean..."

"No, you don't just get to shut me out! Sam's been tortured in everyway possible because of whatever happened! That's not just something you can just avoid! I'm not saying its your fault but I need to know what happened!"

John clenched his teeth together. He knew his son was right. But that didn't mean he had to like it. "It was a couple years ago. There was a clan of witches using young children to collect youth and store it. God knows for what. They were really hard to find, constantly moving and using spells to cloak themselves. So... I was able to get my hands on one of them and I... convinced her to tell me how to find her kin."

Dean's stomach clenched. "Andd by 'convinced' you mean... interrogated? Tortured?"

John looked away from his son. "It's not something I'm proud of, Dean."

Dean swallowed as he closed his eyes. "Go on."

John sighed. "I was able to find them and kill them, no problem. Then I killed the witch whom I persuaded to betray her clan. But obviously... I didn't make sure she was dead. And she obviously never forgot."

Dean stood, running a hand down his face. "You tortured her... forced her to betray her clan... then tried to kill her. She survived, and took her revenge out on Sam."

John buried his face in his hands. "Again, it's not something I'm proud of..."

Dean abrupty swung around. "But you did it! You did all those things!"

"They were supernatural beings, killing children!" John growled. "What did you expect me to do!?"

Dean swallowed, a hallow laugh erupting from his lips. "I wasn't aware torturing them was part of the deal. Has Bobby tortured anything? Jim? Caleb?"

John shrugged, truly at a loss. "I wouldn't know either way."

Dean sighed, sitting next to his father and burying his head in his arms. "God, Dad..."

In the occupied bed, Sam bit his lips, trying to keep his sobs silent. I'm dreaming, right? This is a dream...

not a bad chap, if i do say so myself :)