So, here is the bonus chapter.

Warning:- Inappropriate use of foreign language and swearing.

Chapter- 4

Dean was beyond pissed. He was fuming inside and out. He gritted between clenched teeth, "Now I understand why I don't like teenagers. Because they're…" Spinning on his heel he bent, grabbed the arm of the couch where Brenda was sitting and screamed "…BRAINLESS."

Brenda flinched at the sight of the furious older brother. She had already begun to dislike him. Sam's big brother was scary whereas the little brother was the complete opposite in nature. Sam was calm and soft, where Dean was angry as an erupted volcano and hard as steel.

Sam got up from the nearby chair, grabbed Dean by the shoulder and moved him away from the stricken girl.

"Dean, calm down."


Before Sam could say anything further, the girl got up and started to cry. Tears were streaming down her blotchy cheeks like a miniature torrent. "I DO, you know, I do. I know what we've done and I swear to God, if I could reverse it, I would've done it without a second thought." Wiping her face with her shirt sleeve, she sniffled. "I've lost all of my friends. I've lost everything. Everything."

Sam swallowed; understanding perfectly what she meant by everything. He could feel her pain because the situation with him and Jess was still fresh in his mind. Dean couldn't blame this poor girl; if he did, then he should blame Sam too for Jess's death. He should have told her everything, should have warned her when he had gotten those omens in his nightmares.

"Dean please, just shut up." Sam scolded him softly and turned to the girl. "Did you bring the witchcraft book?"

"Yes, I did." Brenda opened the zipper of her vanity bag and pulled out a heavily bound gold-and-black colored book. "Here it is."

Sam took it from her and opened the front page. The book was written in a foreign language that the brothers had never seen before. The pages were thick and the words seemed to be embedded into the paper.

Dean tilted his neck awkwardly towards the book and frowned.

"What the hell is that pag…paga…'Paganesimo in Provenza'?"

"It's an Italian witchcraft." Brenda responded softly while keeping a nervous eye on both brothers. "Our friend Molly knew the language and her great grandmother was originally from Italy. She knew witchcraft and Molly inherited this from her." Seeing the neutral look from one brother and a very pissed off expression from the other, she swallowed and licked her parched lips. "Only she could read this stuff, she was the one who summoned that thing."

"Oh great, now we…"

Before Dean could finish his anger-filled ramblings, Sam stopped him mid-sentence and assured the girl. "We'll find the way to get rid of this thing. Don't worry; we won't let anything happen to you." Sincerely nodding at the panic stricken girl, Sam booted up the laptop and began googling- 'La Quorra'.

It was around midnight. The whole town was sleeping; only the constant splattering of rainfall was trying to break the strong silence of the night. There was no one in this deserted part of the town- the Peace on Earth Cemetery; except a woman wearing a long raincoat wandering nervously around the perimeter; her ragged breaths and squeaking sound of her shoes on the muddy ground the only noise breaking the peaceful silence of the holy ground.

Brenda was trembling, both in fear and cold. She had never faced something like this. She had been waiting for the witch to show up, as in, she was waiting for the invitation for the supernatural being to come to her and finish the job.

Tightening the coat around her torso, Brenda started to walk slowly toward the abandoned barn. Her conscience was telling her to leave that place immediately, but she knew; it was the only chance for her to live or die. If she left right now, no one on the earth would able to save her from the oncoming death.

Suddenly she felt someone's presence behind her and as she inhaled, her breath condensed. Quickly turning around, she saw what she'd been expecting to see.

It was Peter, standing right behind her.

"Oh my God."

Without wasting another precious moment, she ran blindingly towards the barn. She didn't dare to look behind her because she knew the ghost or whatever it was, was still following her.

"Brreenda, waaiitt…" The ghost's slightly trembling and mischievous voice drifted from behind her and that was enough to send a chill down her already freezing spine.

Brenda did not know how she managed to stumble into the old barn. The supernatural being was just behind her, trying to grab her as she attempted to evade its touch. Its fingers were almost brushing her sleeve when she felt a pair of strong hands grab her beneath the armpits and pull her away from its grasp.

As Dean hauled Brenda from the witch's clutch, they saw it become stuck inside the chee-mah-roo-tah symbol, a binding symbol with which a witch or pagan-god could be captured. Aiming his silver-loaded pistol towards the captured witch, Dean shouted at his brother.


Sam was standing behind the trapped entity, holding the Witchcraft book in his hands. As soon as Dean gave him the green light, he started chanting the exorcism immediately.

"Un giorno d'ira,quel giorno, Scioglierà ilmondoincenere. TestimoneSatana,e laSibilla.Quanto è grandeun terrorecisarà, Quandoèilvendicatoredivenire…"

Before Sam could finish reading the banishing spell, he felt something haul him off the ground and throw him at the opposite wall of the barn. His vision grayed at the edges as he hit the wall hard. The book flew from his grasp and fell somewhere out of sight as his battered body crumpled onto the dusty ground.


Dean watched in horror as the witch tossed his brother aside like a rag doll. He aimed his gun, but before he could pull the trigger, he also felt himself being levitated and then thrown across the barn. Luckily he landed on a thick stack of hay but his relief was momentary. His breath was forced from his lungs in a loud 'oomph' as a flying Brenda also landed on his already sore body.

The witch had morphed into its original shell and boy, she was beautiful. She was wearing a strange medieval type of black and red clothes which looked really gorgeous on her. Dean had never seen a witch like that. He had always had this thought that they were all equal to ugly-rotten teeth-old ladies, but this one was… 'If she hasn't been a bitch, umm, I mean witch; I would have…' Dean was thinking, but his musings were cut short as the witch flung one arm towards the ceiling and the symbol cracked from its edge almost immediately.

"Silly humans…" her voice was eerily melodious but a little nasal which was making the situation much creepier. Dean weakly pushed Brenda off his body and tried to find his gun as the witch advanced towards them. "…you fools think you can beat something like me that easy." Her bare feet were hardly touching the ground as she kept strolling towards her prey. "I'm getting stronger. The more tormented hearts I have, the more powerful I'll become."

As the witch tried to touch the panic-stricken girl, Dean swiftly picked up the fallen gun from the ground and shot directly to her chest. As the silver bullet hit the bull's eye, the witch faltered a little and backed off from the girl.

"Sciocco umano…" The dangerous witch left the girl and grabbed Dean's biceps hard. "How dare you try to defeat me…" Dean felt as his whole body was being electrocuted as he was touched by the supernatural being. "…I'll take your pain as my essence of survival…I will take your heart…"

It happened all of a sudden. Dean was sure he was going to die, but suddenly someone shoved him hard and he fell away from the entity's grasp.

Dean must have blacked out for a couple of minutes, because when his vision cleared he was he was lying on the floor and a choking sound was coming from somewhere nearby. His eyes went wide when he spotted Sam kneeled in front of the witch. She was bending over him, her hands set firmly on his shoulders and she was whispering something in low voice.

It was Sam who had shoved him and let himself get caught by the witch, Dean realized. He tried to move towards his brother, but the strong force field that the witch now had created around them, did not let him get closer to Sam. He could see Sam's lips were moving, telling him to finish the exorcism.

Dean knew shooting the witch would do nothing but waste time, and time was something he did not have a lot of at this moment. His little brother was in the witch's clutches and he had to save him. He could not lose Sam, not after everything…

Dean quickly picked up the fallen book and ran towards the bowl which they had set on the floor near to hand before they'd started the ceremony. They had already filled it with the necessary ingredients for the banishing ritual. Without wasting another precious moment, he started chanting…

"Così insolito,iomirecarsiconun sottile, L'aladelliquidoattraverso idueformarono ilcielo…"

The witch screeched in a high pitch. Dean continued, chanting faster-

"Eil Soledi giustizia;Sono venutoeilluminicoloro cheabitanonelbuio, El'ombradella morte…"

With that, Dean lit a match and threw it into the bowl.

Suddenly a blinding white light erupted from the witch's body as she burst into searing flame.

Sam jolted back to his senses as Dean's scream reached his ears. His back was hurting with a vengeance after his collision with the hard wall, and his head swam sickeningly. Blinking in bewilderment for a few seconds, he spotted his big brother in the witch's grasp, and swiftly shook off the effects of his injuries. He did not think twice about what he was going to do now.

Pushing himself to his feet with grunt, Sam ran towards Dean and shoved him hard, tearing the elder Winchester from the witch's hands.

Instantly he felt the ancient woman touched his face with both hands and his vision wavered. A blinding white-hot pain seared through his whole body and suddenly Sam could not find the strength to stand up any more. He dropped to his knees hard enough to leave bruises.

The witch's face was a mere inch away from his own and Sam could hear what she was saying-

"Your pain is so deep, so pure. I can feel your sorrow, your loss." She moved one hand to his chest and placed it right over his heart. "Your heart's broken Sam…"

Sam screamed in extreme agony as her sharp nailed hand pressed hard against his chest wound that had barely been healed yesterday. He could hear Dean chanting something, but he could hardly concentrate on anything at that moment except for the pain.

"Why did you leave me, Sam?"

Suddenly a very familiar voice startled Sam and his breath hitched as he saw Jessica standing in front of him instead of the dangerous witch. She was wearing the same outfit that she had been wearing on that night she died.

"No, no, you're not real. You're not real." Sam gasped as the pressure on his chest increased.

"This burden you're carrying Sam, is too much for you." Her soft and cold breath was ghosting over Sam's face. "Let me carry your pain, let me mend your broken heart, Sam. Let me…"

Before she could finish, something happened and she screamed in agony. Suddenly, a bright white light flooded Sam's vision and hit his already defenseless body quite hard. Sam fell onto his side, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Dean was panting hard. He could not believe that he'd killed the witch. The job was done, he should have been happy. But something was nagging inside his heart. 'It was just way too easy. For a dangerous witch like her, it was just too simple to finish her off.' But the sight of his little brother falling bonelessly sideways and lying still as death snapped him out of his reverie.


Quickly moving towards his fallen brother, Dean knelt beside him and rolled him onto his back.

Dean's heart skipped a bit as he saw a bright red patch on Sam's jacket. "Oh my God." Dean muttered under his breath as he undid Sam's shirt's buttons to reveal the wound. He found thick trails of blood seeping from the claw wounds inflicted by the woman in white, and shook his head in dismay. Sighing, Dean checked him thoroughly for any other injuries, but fortunately; he found none.

"Sam? Wake up." Dean patted his cheek lightly. "C'mon man, its over. The witch's smoked. You can wake up now." Jolting his brother's shoulder, Dean called again; this time, a little louder. "Sammy?"

"Is he okay?"

Dean had almost forgotten about Brenda. Startled, glanced up at young girl crouched down beside him and then looked worriedly at his little brother. Curling an arm arund Sam's body, Dean nodded. "Yeah. He's just a little shaken up. He'll be alright."

As if Sam heard Dean's words, he stirred and his eyelids slowly fluttered open. His slightly glazed and confused eyes scanned the whole surroundings lazily, like he'd been looking for something or someone but did not seem to be finding it.

"Sammy? You okay?"

Sam's head rolled towards his brother's voice and nodded weakly.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Think you can get up?"

"Yeah, help me up."

Grabbing Dean's hand gratefully, Sam gingerly pulled himself to his feet; wincing as his sore muscles protested. He felt Dean's strong arms wrap protectively around his torso as he swayed drunkenly.

"You sure you're okay, Sammy?"

Sam blinked couple of times to clear the haze from his eyes. He wasn't really feeling any pain except the soreness of his body which he hardly cared about. They were hunters for God's sake and getting hurt on a hunt was their standard routine. And this time, they did not even get hurt badly, Sam was just a little banged up was all. The witch hadn't managed to do much harm except for tearing open his previous wound. Pressing a handkerchief to his chest, he nodded reassuringly.

"I'm okay, Dean. Just a little dizzy."

"You look a little pale for my liking." Dean was worried. He wasn't certain that the witch hadn't done any harm to his brother. 'Sam passed out for Pete's sake.' And the bleeding was doing nothing but adding some more worry to his big brother generator. "You sure you're not feeling anything." Something was off, Dean could sense that.

"I'm fine, really. Nothing a couple of painkillers wouldn't cure."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when Brenda hesitatingly interrupted.

"I…uh…is it over?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Dean grumbled.

"The witch's dead and you're still alive. I think it's over."

Sensing Dean's still pissed off mood, Brenda swallowed nervously.

"I…thank you for…"

Wrapping his sibling's arm around his shoulder tightly, Dean steered both of them towards the exit.

"You're welcome. Now will you please do us a favor?" Dean mockingly asked the dumbfounded girl. "Please do not summon anymore witches in the future. This isn't a game, Brenda, see what had happened."

"I'm sorry." The girl was crying now.

"Oh c'mon. Now stop crying and come with us. We'll drop you off at your house." With that Dean opened the passenger side door of Impala and helped Sam to get inside the car.

Dean was driving in silence. His mood was still off. He had dropped Brenda at her house a couple of minutes ago. It was almost three in the morning and his eyes were gettng heavy with exhaustion and sleep deprivition. Stealing a glance towards his little brother who slumped at the passenger side, still pressing the piece of cloth on his chest, Dean muttered angrily.

"That was the dumbest thing you've ever done in your whole life, Sam."

Sam sighed tiredly. Now that was what he'd been expecting to come up, but he was really too exhausted for an upcoming argument,

"Dean, please…"

"No Sam. The witch could have hurt you more than she did. Hell, she could have killed you, dumbass."

"But she didn't. I'm alive and you're alright too."

"Don't try to change the subject Sam." Dean narrowed his eyes in anger and gripped the steering wheel hard. "You should have finished the exorcism, not shove me out of her way and get yourself caught in her freakin' clutches."

Now Sam had had enough. He was tired too, worn out; exhausted as hell and now Dean's super pissy behavior was giving him a headache.

"She was going to kill you, Dean." Sam shouted. Seeing Dean glaring back at him, he gritted his teeth as he continued. "What should I do then, just let you go like I did to Jess?"

"Sam, Jess's death wasn't…"

"Yes, it was. It was my fault. I lied to her, I left her alone when I should have…" Biting his trembling lip, Sam looked away and stared out of the window. It was still raining hard accompanied by a strong wind. "…and," He laughed mirthlessly, "I didn't even go to her funeral Dean." His eyes filled with unshed tears, Dean could see them in the reflection of the window. He was feeling a little guilty for snapping at his already tormented brother. But he was scared, scared of losing his little brother and that fear came out as an anger-fuelled argument from his mouth.

"Sammy, I…"

Sam looked back at him. He was crying now and Dean's heart broke at the sight of his distressed, beloved little brother. He could handle pretty much anything. He could handle killing things, Sam's anger and arguments. Hell, he could even handle Sam leaving him. But not his tears. His brother's tears always used to break the damn barrier of his macho shell. All he wanted at that moment to hug his brother and sooth him until the pains faded away.


"I couldn't stand to see her taken away from me, Dean. I couldn't." Sam sniffled miserably. "I couldn't see her… her body…" Sam was having difficulties uttering those painful words. "…she…her…I…I'm a coward Dean." More tears spilled from Sam's red-rimmed eyes. "I can't handle the truth, Dean. I'm f***ing useless. Dad was right about me, Dean. I'm a f***ing…"

Sighing, Dean pulled the car over near the curv and killed the engine. He knew a major chick-flick moment was coming up next but for Sammy, he could handle anything.

"C'mere." Grasping his brother's shoulders gently, Dean pulled him to his chest. Sam's whole body was shaking, he was crying so hard. He had been holding those painful emotions inside his heart since Jessica died; not allowing anyone to see them. But tonight, after what Jessica told him 'Why did you leave me Sam'; he could not hold this anymore.

Dean's gentle hand was rubbing the back of Sam's head soothingly as his little brother's face buried in the crook of his neck. He knew Sam had been avoiding the funeral, but he did not press him. But something sure had been bothering Sam otherwise the kid wouldn't have broken like this.

"It's okay, Sammy. I'm here. I got ya." Seeing that Sam was calming down, he asked softly. "What happened, Sammy?"

"I saw Jess." Sam's voice slurred as the emotional ourburst and sleep deprivition was taking a toll on him.

"What? Where?"

"In the barn. She…she…" His hand dropped from Dean's shoulder. He was still mumbling incoherently. "I'm…I'm sorry Jess. I…I…"

"It's okay Sam. She's gone." He tenderly patted his now almost sleeping's brother's head, hoping Sam wouldn't remember this hell of a chick flick moment in the morning. Seeing Sam's breathing evened out as he fell asleep, Dean eased him gently off his chest and laid his head on the upholestry.

"It'll be better when you wake up, Sammy." Reassuring his sleeping sibling, Dean once again revved the car engine to life and sped towards their motel.

Dean woke up at the noise of loud thunder crashing outside their room. Groaning in dismay, he pulled up the covers over his face to muffle the annoying sound. It had been two days since the weather conditions had deteriorated and heavy rainfall accompanied by thunderstorms had still been pounding the town mercilessly.

Yawning loudly, Dean checked his watch. It was showing 5.15 p.m. The brothers had slept throughout the whole day since they entered the motel room and crashed onto their respected beds, without even bothering to get out of their dirty clothes.

Dean didn't have any idea that he slept that long. But he was feeling better after a long good-day sleep. If the thunder had not woken him up, who knew how much longer he would have slumbered.

"Sam, you okay?"

Thunder and lightning had never been a good combination for Sam. So yeah, Dean was a little concerned about his thunderstorm-phobic brother.

Getting no reply, Dean frowned in concern. Sam could never sleep in this loud noise and he had to have been awakened by now. Quickly rolling on his back, he saw the other bed was empty. Throwing the blanker aside, Dean switched on the light and took a quick search in the bathroom and small kitchenette. But there was no sign of his baby brother.

"Sammy where are you?"

There was not even a note on the table. Sam would never go outside to get something in this bad weather unless it was an emergency, and if that was the case, he'd have woken Dean first. Then where did he go?

Dean ran towards the door and opened it. Their room was in front of the parking lot and his baby was still parked outside the door.

"Where has he gone?" Dean swallowed and searched around the whole parking lot but there was still no sign of his brother. He tried to call on his cell phone and it rang, sounding close behind him. Dean turned back to the room, cursing when he found Sam's cell phone resting on the nightstand.

"Where are you Sam? SAM?" Dean screamed but there was still no sign of his little brother.

Sam was gone.


Am I forgiven now?