AN: It's been a long time since I have posted and I am sorry. I hope people like this. It's set back at the beginning of last season. A tag to It's the great Pumpkin Sam Winchester. Let me know what you think and hopefully I can get back into this whole writing thing haha

Thanks to empath for the beta all mistakes are my own because I just can't say no to tinkering.


The flashing red lights of the school bus caught his attention; he watched them flash back and forth. The Impala come to a stop behind it, the children scrambling off, all reaching towards their freedom away from the school, back into the waiting arms of their parents.

He still felt the stab of guilt for using his powers – which had been further intensified by Uriel's warning- but he had never been happier to be a freak. He watched the children – still living, still breathing – scatter around the small park laughing. He didn't regret using his powers if it meant he could save even one person, and in this case he had saved much more than one.

The lights finally stopped flashing and traffic began to move once again. He could hear his brother growling beside him, "I hate school buses."

He wanted out of town, they both did. Neither one wanting to stay and have all the living souls a constant reminder that Sam had used his powers once again. Uriel's words still haunting him, he slouched lower in the passenger seat.

Dean didn't know about his visit from the spiteful angel, didn't know about the threat that was currently lingering over Sam's head.

"As soon as you're not useful anymore…"

He tried to not let it sink too deep, tried to not let it bother him. But it was an angel, the things he had always turned to when his cards were down, the beings he prayed to for help, and now they were threatening him. His first meeting with Castiel and Uriel had crushed him, Dean had tried to encourage him not to stop believing, and of course he played along, but he wasn't as sure as he used to be.

The truth was finally out in the open: he really was alone; his brother looked at him like he was a freak, the angels were ready to kill him, and the demon world was split, some wanted to help, while others wanted his guts on a stick.

His lips pursed, holding back the small laugh; the demon world was the only world that somewhat accepted him for who and what he was. It was the one world he never wanted to turn to, and yet Ruby had been the one to save him.

All his praying to the almighty and angels, and a fucking Demon is the one to be his savior while his brother rotted in hell.


Dean's sharp slap on his shoulder caught his attention; they were no longer in the small town. In fact they had been on the road for a good two hours, two hours that Sam had been in his own world.

"Do. You. Want. To. Eat?" Dean emphasized every word with wide questioning eyes.

Giving his head a small shake, the fake smile still adorning his lips, Sam said, "Sure."

He didn't see the greasy little diner, only felt the gravel drive before the car came to a stop. His head began to throb in time with his heart, his vision blurring slightly. He had definitely snapped or broken something when he was getting rid of Samhiam. His brother didn't seem to notice his discomfort and he wasn't about to bring up his power using just yet.

"Dude, your nose is bleeding," Dean said, his voice void of emotion as he climbed out of the car.

Sam sniffed back, regretting it instantly as the copper taste of his own blood slid down the back of his throat eliciting a gag.

Reaching blindly for the stack of napkins he had stored in the Impala glove compartment. He was used to the nosebleeds; they used to happen more frequently when he first started working with Ruby. They were always quick, a few drops, enough to be annoying and then they would stop… this one was no different.

Dean had already made his way inside the diner and sat down, menu open. Sam trudged in after him, knowing the reason behind his brother's hasty retreat from the car: not wanting to look at the evidence of Sam's powers that dripped out of his nose.

Sam sat with a heavy sigh, garnering his brother's attention. "Better?" Dean asked, looking back down at the menu once Sam nodded.

Picking up the menu, the words just blurred together, the silence between him and Dean deafening. The waitress finally made her way over, breaking the uncomfortable silence that seemed to be hanging around the brothers more often than not lately.

"Ready?" Her gum snapped, its pink shade contrasting against her yellow crooked teeth and bright red lipstick.

"Ya, I'll have the double cheese burger, extra bacon with onion rings instead of fries," Dean answered automatically, placing his menu in the woman's crooked fingers that didn't seem to close completely around the thin menu.

"I'll have chicken burger, house salad instead of fries," Sam said, placing his own menu in the gnarled hands, watching as the woman walked away.

"Not your type Sam," Dean said, a slight hint of a laugh in his voice.

"What? No I wasn't…"

Dean finally laughed as Sam stumbled over his words. The younger man couldn't help but laugh as well, it had been so long since he had heard his brother laugh like that. But it didn't last, it never did.

The food was quick, breaking the silence that had come around the brothers once again. Sam was grateful for the small reprieve from the silence even if the food looked like shit on a plate.

Sam winced; the sheer appearance of the food made him hesitant to take that first bite, not sure of its quality and if he would regret it later that night.

Dean on the other hand had no problem eating all of his plate, every last drop. Food had always been his coping mechanism – whenever he was stressed or worried, he ate. Sam was the opposite, he couldn't eat, could hardly think straight.

"Eat," Dean encouraged, giving his plate a push towards him. He took a few small bites just to satisfy the older boy, but that was it. That was his limit.

The silence followed them from the diner into the Impala and Sam wasn't surprised that Dean turned up the music; he would have done it if Dean hadn't.

His head still throbbed, now in time with the beat of whatever song was on, but he didn't complain. He had no right to complain for something he inflicted on himself.


The small motel looked no better than the diner they had found three hours back. It had lights, heating, and a bed, which was more than enough for them.

Sam waited in the Impala as Dean got the room, nervous about what kind of rooms Dean would get. Would he want to share a room with him since he had used his powers… again?

Sam waited patiently for Dean who just waved for him to get their stuff and follow him. Sam didn't mind carrying all the bags, he was just happy that his brother still wanted to share a room with him. He followed after Dean like an abused puppy wanting to please but getting nothing in return.

The room was just as bad, if not worse than the diner. Dean opened the door and shed yellow light into the small dirty room; Sam could here the scattering of feet. Mice, he hated mice.

"Grand, we got ourselves a real palace here," Dean said, taking some of the bags off Sam's shoulder. Moving towards his bed by the door, he placed his duffel down and said, "I'm afraid to see what the washroom looks like."

Sam shuddered at the thought, forgetting about the bathroom and about using the shower. If the room itself was anything to go by then it was going to be a rough night. Placing his own duffel on the stained covers of the lumpy mattress his nose scrunched… he didn't need a light to see the status of the washroom, he could smell it. "I'm going to wait and shower at the next place."

Pulling the covers back he was surprised to see clean sheets under the stained comforter and he sighed in relief at the small discovery. Tossing his shoes off he climbed in, not bothering with changing, his body too exhausted to bother with taking his clothes off.

Looking over he noticed his brother was in the same boat as him, already snoring softly, fully clothed and his shoes still on.

The last few days had taken more of a toll on them than either of them realized. Willing his body up, Sam reached over, taking his brothers shoes off and bringing him under the thin blankets. He watched Dean's brow furrow, obviously in a nightmare.

"It's okay Dean," he whispered, glad to see his brother's brow begin to relax again. Satisfied he sauntered back over to his bed, climbing in. Ignoring the throb in his head, he tried to sleep, his brother's soft snores the only lullaby he needed to cast him off into a dreamless slumber.


It was the smallest sound - most people would have passed it off as the mice scurrying around the room. But Sam knew better, his eyes snapping open and sitting up on his elbows. He could see Dean in his peripheral, eyes open, hand under his pillow. They had both heard the threat.

Both boys holding their breath, they waited, listening for the sound that awoke them. But nothing came, just the still air of the night.

"Think it was the mice?" Dean asked, not having a chance to finish his thought before the door burst open. Neither boy had time to react as they were thrown from their beds, pinned to opposite walls.

Both gasped for air as three people walked calmly into the room, smiles on their faces. "Hello boys," the lead woman said, her bright teeth shining in the dark room.

The lights flicking on, revealing the three people, all of their eyes darker than night, endless pools of black and despair, with the woman in the lead and two men following behind.

"It took us awhile to track you," she said walking closer to Sam who groaned as the pressure increased. "You're getting good at hiding your tracks Sammy. Is it because you have your precious big brother back? You're not so eager to see us anymore?" she cooed, stepping close to Sam.

Dean watched as the woman raised her hand, hitting Sam hard across the face, blood pooling instantly, leaking from the corners of his brother's mouth. "Hey!" he yelled, finally garnering the demon's attention who just smiled at him. "Nice to see you again, Dean."

The older boy ignored the comment, his thoughts focused solely on Sam who spit the blood to the floor of the already stained motel room.

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Dean said, ignoring the increase in pressure he felt while the woman just smirked at him.

"I have no time for you Dean, I don't mess with angels and their work, I know my limit and I play within it." She laughed turning her attention back to Sam. "You on the other hand Sam, you my friend are so much more than open game; the angels want you dead so they won't be upset if we play with you."

Dean could feel his blood pressure rising at the demon's threat. "Don't you touch him, you bitch," he tried to struggle, tried to move any part of his body, but it was useless.

"Oh Dean, that's not very nice. And don't worry I'll try to not draw this out too much." She smiled and Dean's heartbeat sped up as the two demon men walked over to Sam who seemed to fall from the wall into the men's arms.

The older boy felt a swell of pride as his brother started to fight back, getting the upper hand before the woman joined in, hitting Sam square in the jaw with a sickening crack. Dean could do nothing but watch as his brother's legs went limp and his head rolled forward. "No, no! Sam!" He could feel the sweat dripping down the small of his back as he continued to struggle.

He watched helplessly as Sam was held firmly in the grasps of the men, the woman standing before him, hands crossed over her chest.

"Sam?" she asked impatiently, grabbing his hair and yanking his head up. Dean could see his brother's eyes rolling, trying to focus with little success. "Sam?!" She slapped him hard, a large welt forming on his younger brother's face.

"You bitch, I swear…" He screamed, feeling as the pressure increased, the wall starting to give around him, cracking in protest at the pressure. All the air squeezed out of his lungs.

"You swear to what Dean? I hope its not God because I'm pretty sure that's a sin, and your angel friends don't appreciate sins. Isn't that right Sammy?" She said stepping closer to the boy who struggled to focus. "You should know, since you are probably one of the bigger sins out there, what with your demon blood." She laughed stepping back, smug smile on her face.

Dean watched as his brother comprehended what the slut said, the pain that crossed his face before it hid beneath the layers he had created for himself. "Sammy, come on…" he tried to get through to him, to let him know it was all a lie. The pressure increased before he could even finish his thought let alone finish his sentence to his crumbling little brother. His chest felt like it was caving in.

"Dean, Sam and I are trying to talk here, now please, let the demons talk," she said sweetly, turning back to the younger brother who was finally starting to come around.


"What you want?" He managed to slur. She just laughed, stroking his face, and said, "Sam, you know why we're here. And since your brother has come back you've left yourself so vulnerable, forgetting about us." Her hand tracing his jaw line, "We've been watching you Sam, keeping tabs and since your little trick has improved enough to take out Samhaim, well Sam, its time to put a stop to this."

"I-I don't know…" he didn't have time to finish before a heavy fist landed in his abdomen, pushing the air out of his lungs and causing his vision to dance once again.

"You may be immune to some of our flashier demon tricks Sam, but the thing about humans is you're all so unbelievably vulnerable. The simplest things kill you," she whispered, her fingernails scratching down his face, digging in to his flesh. He could feel the blood begin to spill over the edges and run down his neck. "Pathetic," she spat out before the two men grabbed him, tossing him to the floor.

His eyes searched, looking for his brother, finally falling on Dean who watched him with fear and anger, begging him to fight back. But he didn't have anything left, he was so tired.

He felt as the fists came out of nowhere and he tried to curl his body in to block some of the body shots but it was impossible. His resolve began to break as his grunts of pain turned to small yelps before making the transition to yells and screams. His brother's name painted on his lips, the only one he knew how to call for help.

"Stop, please!" Dean's voice was the only thing breaking through the thick haze of pain that engulfed Sam.

Sam hated hearing his brother beg, hated hearing that fear in his voice, and hated it even more that it was him causing the fear.

He tried to concentrate, tried to remember everything Ruby had taught him, but it had been so long. He couldn't remember, he couldn't fight back like he had on so many other occasions. He could only hope that it all ended quickly.

His body was lifted off the ground once again before being tossed on to the lumpy bed, his mind scrambling to gain his sense back, to stop the room from spinning during the brief rest from the beating. His eye was swollen shut, his nose broken, body shaking, all while his brother was yelling… pleading for them to stop.


Struggling was useless, but it didn't stop Dean from continuing to struggle, biting his lips in the process. Yelling out for Sam to fight, to do something – anything – even the creepy mojo he had learned with Ruby… anything. Just something to stop the demons that were tossing him around like a rag doll.

"Stop!" he yelled over and over. The woman finally seemed to hear him and made her way over to his immobile body. "Please, just stop. Take me."

She just laughed signaling to the men to lift Sam, who hung limply in the arms like a rag doll before being placed roughly on the bed.

"You can't kill demons like Sam can, you're no real threat to us. Next time you see those angel friends of yours you better thank them because they are the only reason your ticker is still ticking. But they couldn't care if Sam lived or died."

Dean couldn't and wouldn't believe that the angels didn't care what happened to Sam. Sure they were ass holes, but to actually not care about his brother was bullshit.

"I'll tell the angels to stop searching for Lillith, tell them to stop everything if you just let Sam go." His voice cracked as he spoke. He would give everything up. Thoughts of cold oak coming front and center in his mind, thoughts he never wanted to revisit, and if that meant bringing the apocalypse then he would do it and him and Sam would figure it out later.

The demon seemed to contemplate his offer. "Tempting, but this is an overdue killing of your dearest little brother that is much more important to us."

Dean didn't get it, didn't get why she would turn down his offer: stopping the angels, the demons biggest threat. 'Long overdue killing'

"What do you mean long overdue killing?" he asked, his eyes furious. How long had they been trying to kill his little brother?

"Oh, you didn't tell him, Sammy?" she snarled smacking his head that just rolled with the motion.

"His name is Sam," Dean snarled back; his brother's nickname was one only he could use.

The woman walked, her hips moving seductively. If she hadn't been filled with a demon Dean might have made a move on her. She moved close to him, her breath chasing shudders down the length of his body.

"Well Dean," she began, her mouth in a pout of mock pity. "I hate to be the one break this to you but… Sammy… sorry, Sam, wasn't such a good little brother while you were gone. I'm not sure if you were even cold yet before he started using his little gifts."

She laughed as Sam groaned from the bed, only to be quickly quieted by one of the large men.

"See Dean, your little brother hooked up with that treacherous whore Ruby pretty quickly, and boy it didn't take much to convince him to start using his powers," she said her tongue tracing her lips softly, body rubbing up against Dean's.

"We knew when Azalzel started with the children that it could turn out poorly for us if they had a conscious, if they chose not to lead and instead rebel."

Dean's stomach sank as he listened to her talk; she knew what the yellow-eyed demon had been planning. She knew and if he could get information from her it could help Sam get in better company with the angel crowd, something he knew Sam craved.

"Of course he claimed that his blood was too strong, that they wouldn't have a choice. But Sam never was one to follow rules or norms was he?"

Dean laughed at her. "No, no he doesn't"

"Well that's why he has to die, we can't have him around as a liability, and we've tried on more than one occasion to come in. He practically waved his presence around the map like a neon sign tempting every demon he could to his hotel room after you were gone. All of them wanting to get in Lillith's good books and all of them failing," she growled picking up the lamp on the bedside table and tossing it at Sam, who flinched and groaned.

"So Lillith brought me up to finally finish the job. And let me say, you two together, made it way too easy, your pathetic human emotions clouding you from what was really going on. I was really expecting a little more of a fight. I had heard better things of you two."

"Sorry to disappoint," Dean grunted, his mind racing.

"Well you'll have another chance to impress me. Your brother on the other hand, not so lucky."

It was then that Dean saw his little brother, standing at the foot of the bed, both of the men lay on the floor, their bodies shuddering. His little brother's eyes were dark and Dean's breath caught in his throat as he stared on. Watching the new fury behind Sam's eyes, his hand rising, Dean knew what was coming next.

The tight grip that had him pegged to the wall loosened, the woman having to focus entirely on his little brother, who was looking more demon than human every time he used his abilities.

"Sam!" he called out, frantically searching for the knife that Ruby had given them, wanting to stop Sam from having to use his powers any more than was necessary. His hand finally found the smooth hilt of the knife and, pulling it from the bag. "Stop Sam!" he called once more, wasting no time, not bothering to see if his brother had actually stopped, he plunged the knife into the woman's throat.

Her guttural scream echoed off the walls, the wound flashing a bright yellow before going red as the demon was banished out of her system.

Sam's eyes went back to their smooth hazel colour much to Dean's relief. It made him nervous that one day those eyes would stay that deep colour. That would be the day Sam would no longer be his little brother Sammy, and would instead be his demon Sammy. His demon Sammy that he would die to bring back from the darker side of his abilities before he ever turned on him.

But he would deal with that when it happened, until then he was still his Sammy, the geek pain in the ass little brother who was starting to fade quickly, slumping towards the floor, the adrenaline rush that had helped him gone.

Glancing down at the two men who didn't look like they were breathing, Dean wondered when his little brother had gotten so good at banishing demons that he could do it without making noise.


His brother's voice had been what had urged him forward, the voice that haunted him while Dean was gone. His dreams plagued him with Dean pleading with him to not let him die, to save him from the pit, to be a good brother to save him. But every dream ended the same: Sam listening to his brother beg for his life while the hellhounds ripped him apart, and there was nothing he could do about it.

So when he heard that same voice, heard the pain and terror laced through his older brother's façade, it was almost like a snap, the thing that pushed him over the edge, urging him to get up.

His mind focused on the two demons who stood beside the bed; they didn't know what hit them, he didn't even have to look at them, didn't have to raise his hand. The thought of destroying the demons that was hidden in his subconscious broke through his barriers, surging with power through his veins, his heart pumping deep and hard forcing the energy through.

He heard the men slump silently beside the bed, and he rose, his eyes seeking out the demon who thought she could come into his room and torture his brother. His body ached and throbbed, but it was all pushed aside once he caught sight of her. He could feel that snap of power continue to pulse through him.

It was out of habit that he raised his hand, his brother's shouts fell by the way side. He needed to deal with the stupid bitch who stood, her grin gone, in front of him. He smirked, ready to start before the blade came through. Her neck split open, a wide look of surprise on her face.

The surge of power ended as the demon fell, leaving Dean standing in her wake. His eyes were wide; Sam wasn't sure if it was from fear of the demon or from him.

He didn't have time to find out, the pain from the beating making itself known once again. His legs buckled, the floor making a fast approach to greet him before strong arms wrapped around him, catching him before he made contact.

"Easy Sammy," Dean soothed, his arms trying to juggle Sam who was like dead weight. The younger man tried to help his brother, tried to take some of the weight off, but it was no use, his body just wouldn't co-operate.

It was an awkward trip back to the bed, Dean placing him down softly, much softer than the demons.

"Easy Sammy," he soothed once more, concern evident in his eyes, looking down at Sam before bringing his hand down to his cheek, wiping the moisture away. Sam didn't even know he had been crying, he couldn't remember why he would be crying.

He was so tired. "Whoa, no, no Sam," Dean gently scolded, first aid kit in hand, when had he gotten that?

He wasn't sure what exactly was going on. He could hear pathetic sounds of pain and agony, sounds he was pretty sure were his. They stopped his brother on more than one occasion, making him look up at him before continuing on.

He knew his injuries were superficial, but those mixed with the overwhelming emotions from the past few days and his body just couldn't handle any of it any more.

Closing his eyes, he was happy when the darkness took him, swallowing him quickly dropping him in the black depths of his inner mind where more torturous thoughts awaited.


Dean sat and watched his brother struggle with the thin blankets, the nightmares back in full force, the occasional word slipping through his brother's chapped lips. The one or two words that slipped through were never enough to gather a sufficient amount of information on what exactly his little brother was dreaming about, but Dean was pretty sure he was in the forefront, his name being dropped more than once.

Dean knew he should be sleeping, that Sam was going to be fine. Sure the demons had beaten the tar out of him but there was no evidence of any significant damage and Sam was just exhausted, they both were. But sleep still evaded the older brother who thought back to Samhaim, the whole reason why the demons were making a surprise visit.

The demon's words played over in his head. It wasn't the first time Sam had had demons sneak into his hotel room. "He practically waved his presence around the map like a neon sign tempting every demon he could to his hotel room."

The thought that Sam had let himself be tracked down by demons scared the shit out of Dean. The recklessness behind his brother's actions spoke louder than any words Sam could ever say about how he was while Dean was gone.

A rough hand dragged down his face. "Did you go suicidal on me Sammy?"

Sam continued to lay there, the occasional moan and gasp for air the only indication that he was even still alive. Dean knew when he made the deal that him leaving was going to be rough on his brother, knew that Sam would have a hard time dealing.

But to think of how far he went – to the lengths he went to kill any demon, to how far from his innocent little brother he went – it almost hurt Dean to even call him Sammy anymore. The nickname was one of innocence, something he had always managed to keep in Sam, right up until the day he died, and then all of Dean's hard work seemed to disappear.

He didn't use the nickname as much as he used to. He wasn't sure if Sam ever noticed and if he did, he didn't say anything. It was just another rift that had torn between him and Sam, adding to the ever increasing hole that seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Their entire life slowly crumbling away and tumbling into the blackness, something that Dean wasn't sure how to stop.

It was these thoughts of Sam that kept him up at night. Sure the nightmares about hell were a pain in the ass, but they were nothing compared to what was going on between him and his brother.

Head in his hands his thoughts running wild. "How can I help you Sammy?"


Sam's voice cracked, his long limbs stirring. Dean looked up, meeting the steady gaze of his younger brother, his lips frozen while his brother waited for an answer.

"Was that the first time a demon has come into your room while you're sleeping?" Dean finally asked. His brother's gaze shifting away was the only answer Dean needed.

"How often did this happen?"

"While I was sleeping? Only once… right after you died."

"And after that?" His voice snapped, not sure if he really wanted to hear Sam's answer.


"Tell me," he growled, feeling a little guilty when his brother cowered ever so slightly.

"I'm not sure how many times, a few at least."

"Why, Sammy? Why would you do that? Didn't you think of who you could be attracting? Anything could have walked through those doors." Taking a deep breath, he got up from his chair, not wanting to yell at Sam, having done more than enough of that the last few weeks.

"I just…" Sam stopped, wincing as he sat up, continuing to look at the floor.

Dean wanted to yell at him to lay back down. "You just what Sam?!"

Dean waited for an answer, pacing the room, "What you did is reckless and stupid. Did you even think about me when you thought this plan up? Think of what I might say?"

"Of course I thought of you!" Sam yelled, his face flushing, finally looking up at Dean who stopped pacing.

"You're all I thought about." The younger man's anger played freshly across his face at Dean's accusation. He took a deep breath and Dean could see him trying to control his emotions before continuing.

"I won't lie to you; I was trying to get Lillith to come to me. I was hoping she would, but she never came. So I killed every fucking demon I could."

The brothers stared at one another, Dean's face softening, Sam's still a bright shade of red, his breath shaky and eyes moist.

Dean's shoulders slumped, looking up to the ceiling, hand running through his hair. "Sam," he began, but Sam cut him off.

"Dean, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about it right now."

Defeat was written all over Sam's features, his confidence in tatters after his meeting with the angels. Dean knew he was walking on thin ice with his brother; he couldn't push too hard about the last four months. "Well we better take another look at our wards, maybe get a few more powerful ones just to keep all the vermin out." He said with a sad smile. "Go back to sleep Sammy" I'll get out what you did for four months, later.

Sam complied, thankful to be out of the conversation, ignoring his brother's stare. He tried to ignore the looming thought of the inevitable conversation he was going to have with his brother.

AN: Finished. First chapter post in what seems like forever. I hope it was okay I may definately be a little rusty : ) Let me know.