Beta:- Vonnie

A/N:- So, as I promised, here is an early update.


~** EPILOGUE **~

The Strigoilor aka Mr. Williams was painting Sam's portrait with an unnatural speed. He had almost completed his desired pure hearted boy's picture, only was left to paint his eyes. God, his eyes were beautiful, they were looking extremely gorgeous even in just a sketch. Already ninety percent life force had been sucked out from Sam's body and he was almost dead by then. He wasn't gasping, wasn't shaking…hell, they were not sure if he was still breathing. They could not detect any rise and fall of Sam's chest; he was lying there like a corpse.

"Yes, I've almost completed it. I just have to paint his eyes and then…" before he could finish his joyous statement, he felt a sudden piercing pain in his back and gasped. He slowly turned and saw another old man was standing behind him and stabbed him with a silver knife into his back. He screamed and slapped the old man hard in his face. Mr. Russell's body was flung into the air and collided with the wall.

Before the human shaped Strigoilor pried the knife away from his back, he heard a 'oops' and felt a load of hard rock salt hit his chest. The heavy hit of rock salt bullet hit his human body hard and threw him at least ten feet away. Dean quickly threw the empty gun and jumped at the table where the painting equipments had been placed. With a light speed motion, he grabbed a huge can of black paint color and threw it directly on Sam's portrait.


The Strigoilor screamed so horrifically that would send a shiver down the Devil's own spine as soon as the thick pitch black color hit Sam's portrait and spread all over the canvas. That gorgeous painting was now a mass of black canvas and Sam's entire body was slowly hiding under the thick paint.

The Strigoilor morphed into its original shell and screamed once again, but now in pain when the white mist of life force started seeping from his body. Dean watched in bewilderment as the escaping life force started to enter again into his brother's partially open mouth.

"Dad, hurry…" Dean shouted and once again pulled another can and threw the whole color onto the portrait of the other kid. He saw that John did the same with the girl's portrait and smudged the entire art work.

They watched in horror and utter astonishment that the creature started to writhe frantically as all life forces of young teenagers he had sucked, viciously came out from his body and entered into their respective one.

Dean quickly pulled his silver knife from his waistband and ran to the couch where Sam was lying. The thick crimson blood still was flowing heavily from his thigh wound and collected in a puddle on the floor. He drenched his knife in his brother's blood and savagely plunged it into the creature's heart.


A pain filled shriek came out from its mouth when Dean pushed the knife harder inside and twisted it, as if he wanted to rip his heart out of its filthy body. He panted in exhaustion and watched the Strigoilor's dead body hit the floor with a loud thud and then still.

"This is for hurting my brother…" Dean hissed furiously and pulled his knife up from its body. "You son of a b*tch."

Dean didn't bother to look that what his father was doing with the dead body of the Strigoilor, as his concentration was solely on his brother, who still hadn't moved an inch from his position. His knife slipped from his hand as he ran to his brother and pulled his body into his arms.

"Sam! Sam wake up, Sammy! The devil is dead, he is dead." Dean was rambling cradling his limp brother in his embrace "No one's gonna hurt you again little brother. Open your eyes Sammy!" Dean shook him gently, "Sammy?"

But Sam remained unresponsive. He was lying still on his brother's chest all pale and faint. His face was still dangerously pale, but not quite as before. He was breathing, but it was way too shallow and small tremors once again ran through his entire body.

Dean quickly laid his brother down on the couch once again and shrugged his jacket off. He wrapped his brother's cold and trembling torso with it and bound his thigh wound tightly with a bandana to stop the bleeding. He then looked at the other corner of the house and saw his father and Mr. Russell untie the other kids and gently lay them onto the floor.

"Are they alright?" Dean asked in a trembling voice.

John nodded. "Yes, they are alive but we have to take them to the hospital quickly." He rose from his seated position and ran towards his boys. "How's Sammy doing?"

"Not good." Dean sadly answered. He gently carded his hand in Sam's silky mop and sniffled. "I think he's going into shock Dad!" He wrapped his arms tightly around his trembling brother and looked worriedly at his father.

John placed his hand lightly on Sam's chest and then looked at Dean. "Dean, take him to your car. After I put those kids in my truck, we will be heading to the hospital. After we got them checked, I will salt and burn that bastard's body."

Dean nodded nervously; his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

"Dean!" his father's authoritative tone entered into his ears and he looked at him. "Get a grip boy. You can't lose yourself now. Your brother needs you now. Sammy needs you."

Dean nodded his head tightly and muttered. "Sammy needs me. Yeah, I failed him once, I can't fail him again." He gently placed one hand around Sam's back and hooked another under his knees. Then carefully lifted his insensate brother off the couch and headed towards the exit.

After opening impala's passenger side door, Dean assiduously maneuvered his lanky brother inside the car and laid him on the leather upholstery.

He quietly closed the door and then got inside behind the wheel. His heart twisted whenever he heard Sam was struggling to breathe. He gently pulled his brother up and placed his head on his lap. He placed a comforting hand on Sam's forehead and whispered. "Hang on little brother. Don't give up. Everything's gonna be alright. I am here and I will take care of you, Sammy. I will make everything okay brother."

Dean sat beside Sam's hospital bed and watched him like a mother hawk. It'd been six hours Sam had been admitted and he still hadn't regained consciousness. Though the doctor assured him that Sam would wake up anytime soon. After they brought Sam and the other kids in, the emergency staffs and doctors immediately started assessing them. After stabilizing them and put them in their rooms, the doctor explained their condition and let them see their kids.

Dean's eyes wandered to the IV lines that had been inserted into Sam's veins. One of them was giving him warm saline to keep this core temperature normal as he was suffering from mild hypothermia and dehydration. Another was providing him with antibiotics to prevent infections caused by his thigh wound. A nasal canula was running under his nose, giving him purified warm oxygen.

Sam was looking incredibly younger than his original age in his vulnerable state and that made Dean's heart ach. He gently took Sam's hands into his and whispered. "C'mon little brother, wake up, would ya! You've been sleeping from ages and getting older, I'm here waiting for you sleeping beauty!" He chuckled softly. "It wouldn't be that hilarious if an old a** prince charming has to kiss you to wake you up, what do you think Sammy?" His voice got heavy with emotion. "Sammy!"

He startled lightly, hearing someone shuffle into the room and saw that his father and Mr. Russell entered. He quickly swallowed the expression he had been showing an oblivious Sam and coughed a little. "So, everything covered?"

John smiled tightly and nodded as he walked beside his son's bed. He carded a loving hand on Sam's forehead and looked at Dean. "Yes, we burned that bastard's body and destroyed his entire belongings."

"What about cops?" Dean asked anxiously. He had been worried because they told the hospital that those kids had been kidnapped and held hostage.

John smiled and glanced at Mr. Russell who was standing beside him. "Thanks to Mr. Russell, he got all things covered."

Dean looked at him with grateful eyes and said. "Thank you Mr. Russell. We wouldn't have saved those kids and my brother, if you weren't there. If you hadn't stabbed that thing in time, they all would be dead by now."

Mr. Russell smiled apprehensively. "No need to thank me, Dean. I did what I needed to do. Besides, I should thank you; because of you, I got my grandson back." His eyes were gleaming with happiness.

Dean smiled and turned his attention back to his brother.

"So, you aren't a detective? Are you?" Mr. Russell asked.

Dean stiffened a little but quickly recovered himself. "No," he looked straight at the old man's eyes. "I am not a detective. We're hunters. We hunt evil things as you have witnessed. We try to keep people safe from those things that they have never been seen in their worst nightmare." He smartly explained.

The old man remained mute for a minute then nodded. "I understand and don't worry boy; your secret will be saved inside my heart. After all, you guys saved all those young kids and other who could have been trapped in that thing's clutch in the future. You all are the true heroes and I salute you."

"Thank you." Dean and John said in chorus.

Mr. Russell smiled tightly and patted Dean's shoulder proudly. He placed a loving hand on the brown mop of the sleeping youngest Winchester and then left the room.

"Dean! Dean, wake up…"

Dean was dreaming about some cool chick, but the constant annoying sound of his bratty little brother was distracting him. He grimaced and threw a hand in the air in protest.

"Shuddap Sammy, lemme s'lp," Dean's sleep filled voice slurred.

"Dude, you're snoring. And that's hurting my head a little." Came Sam's b*tchy comment again.

"I don't snore…" Suddenly Dean realized where he was and he shot up in his seat. He couldn't believe he fell asleep while he was watching over his sick little brother.

He rubbed the remaining sleeps off his eyes and saw his brother looking at him incredulously, a wicked smile ghosting on his lips.

"You alright Sammy? How are you feeling?" Dean got up and touched Sam's forehead gently. "Are you in pain? Should I call the doctor? I am calling…"

"Dean?" Sam's voice cut off Dean's blabbering.

"What Sammy?"


Dean smirked seeing Sam was back in his usual 'Bratty Sam Winchester' mood and his old sense of humor was kicking in full force. He released a breath of relief and collapsed again onto the chair.

"Seriously, Sam. Are you feeling alright!" Dean asked with genuine concern.

Sam slowly heaved himself into a sitting position with Dean helping him anyway and answered. "I am fine."

When Dean looked at him quirking an eyebrow, he rolled his eyes. "Okay, just a little lightheaded and sore. But otherwise, I am okay." He glanced at the IV bags, which were almost empty now.

"You sure?" Dean still wasn't too convinced.

"Yeah. By the way, what happened? Why am I in a hospital, Dean?" Sam asked with confusion.

"You don't remember?" Dean didn't know if he should be happy or concerned.

"That's why I am asking, genius!" Sam smirked and Dean snorted.

"What's the last thing you remembered?"

"Well…" Sam's face was somewhat sad or disappointed. "…umm, I…ah, I was asking Dad for some bucks you know. It…it was for our school trip. But…" Sam looked away from his big brother, he really didn't wanna b*tch about his father, but he knew Dean wouldn't leave him until he finished. "…Dad denied it and then…" he seemed to be thinking, "…when I was returning home, I met someone. Some old man. I saved him from an accident and then he took me to his home and said if I give him a sitting for this portrait he would give me twenty dollar per sitting. Then…after that I don't remember anything until now."

"Oh Sammy, I am so sorry." Before Dean could say something, John entered the room and sat down beside Sam. He eyes were glistening as he took his youngest son's hand into him. "I am so sorry Sam. I practically made you get trapped in that witch's clutch. If I had given you the money then, nothing woulda' happened." John whole body was shaking in resentment.

Sam was confused now. Why was his dad acting this way? What actually had happened?

"Dad it's okay! What…what happened?" he looked at Dean now with worried face.

"Sammy, the painter was a Strigoilor witch who sucked the pure life force out off young kids like you. He made portraits to capture his prey's entity inside it and made them go against their family so he could get their consent. He trapped young children with its fake generosity and made them his prey. He trapped you and almost sucked your entire life force out. If we had been just a few minutes late…you could have…" Dean couldn't say the last words. He didn't want to say those cruel words ever.

"I am sorry." Sam said quietly.

John's head shot up from its stooped position as Sam said it. Dean was also confused.

"Why are you apologizing Sammy?" John asked.

Sam lowered his head and swallowed. "It was my fault. If I hadn't been so rebellious or eager to earn money, nothing would have happened. I was stupid, Dad! And…and…" He was almost verge of tears. "I'm sorry." A single teardrop fell from his mossy green eyes.

"No, No Sammy…" John said quickly and wiped the tear away from his son's eyes. "…not your fault. It was never your fault. I should have researched more and made sure that everything was right. So, it's not your fault and don't you ever go that way. Alright boy!" John said with a big smile plastered onto his face.

"Alright." Sam answered softly and smiled. "So, when I can get outta here?"

"Most probably tomorrow. The doctor wants to keep you one more day for observation." John answered.

Sam nodded and yawned. "Ahh okay. Besides, I don't have anything to do right now. My class is already gone for that excursion anyway."

Dean and John stole their glances as Sam said those words unintentionally. They could understand how important and encouraging the tour was for Sam.

John silently pulled something from his pocket and handed to Sam. "Here, take it."

Sam looked at the envelop with surprise. "What's that?" But he already tore open the top of the envelop.

John and Dean didn't say anything but they enjoyed every bit of surprise and joy that was showing in Sam's expressive face when he pulled out fifty dollars from it.

"What! Dad! You…but…?" Sam didn't know what to say. He was considering, if he should say 'Christo' or not!

"Don't say anything Sam. Keep it. It's a simple present from a jacka** Dad to his son." John answered smiling.

"But Dad, the excursion has already been started…" Sam's voice drifted as Dean interrupted.

"Not yet Sammy. Your teacher called and informed me that your tour has been post pone because a serious jacka** named Matthew got suspended for his extra curricular activities and school authority had to cancel the program. So, it will start again next week and you can attend it." Dean announced with a large grin.

Sam's eyes went wide, as he was digesting the news.


"And…" Dean wasn't finished yet, "…your fee that are needed for your stupid excursion has been covered. Soooo Sammy boy, now you can start a hula-dance, because you're going to analyze some stupid Geological or whatever stuff and save the earth." Dean finished with an utterly stupid grin.

Sam and John stared at him a couple of minutes incredulously and then Sam rolled his eyes.

"Jerk. How long was I out?" Sam sounded amazed.

"B*tch. Long enough baby brother." An instant reply came quickly.

Before Sam could argue anymore Dean blurted again. Evil intensions were still playing in his mind.

"And, hey Sam. Know what, you should get laid with some random chick sometime soon…"

Sam eyes once again became huge like golf balls as Dean random babbling suddenly came out of the blue and a deep pink shade of embarrassment formed on his cheeks. His Dad was now smirking too.


Again he had to shut up, because his stupid a** big brother was still yammering. "Because, due to your intact virginity or whatever crap it was, you got you're a** kicked…"

"Dean! SHUT THE HELL UP." Sam shouted in embarrassment, though he wasn't sure what the hell Dean was talking about.

Dean still was on. "Annnnd…" his voice trailed as a big tissue box hit him directly in the center of his face and an "oomph" sound escaped from his mouth.

"What the…" Dean was rubbing his sore nose and whined to his Dad like he was a small child, not an experienced hunter.


"Serves you right." Now John was laughing. God, his boys were adorable.

"What happened Dad?" Sam tried to ignore Dean but 'this was Dean' and he wasn't done annoying his little brother.

"Long story b*tch. I will tell you later as a bedtime story." Dean once again grinned with incredible stupidity.



John knew what was coming now and he quickly got up from his seat and practically ran to the exit. He heard Sam reply back at Dean and again Dean retorted…


"Daaad…" came Sam's incessant whining but quickly morphed into a payback.

"Sluttttttttt…Daaaddd…" a sound of giggling and gasping that was made by a tickling war filled the whole hospital room and he smiled with a content heart. He got his son back, his baby boy was saved. Brothers were once again being brothers and that made John heart filled with pure happiness.

He shook his head and laughed, "Oh Boys! What I'm gonna do with you?"

***************************** ***~~** THE END **~~*** ******************************

I want to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted and saved this story to their favorite lists. I've thoroughly enjoyed interacting with you and hope to have the opportunity to interact with you again on my next piece.

Reviews are love.

Thank You,