A/N I want to thank everyone who's reading this. I'm amazed at the response. More people have added this to their favorites than any other story I've written and it has the most reviews per chapter. That is making me really nervous about this last chapter, as the resolution may seem too easy. So, if it turns out to be a big disappointment after the rest of the story I apologize.

Sam didn't have any money. He wasn't going to steal any more. It was wrong. He pulled over when he was almost out of gas and went to sleep in the back seat.


Kate and Damon were driving down the highway when Kate took a deep breath. "I smell one of those idiots that killed Luther."

Damon breathed in. "You're right. He must be in that car pulled over up there."

They pulled over. "He's sleeping. Isn't that sweet?" Kate said as she peaked in the window. "Let's wake him up."

She smashed the window. Sam sat up. "Remember us?" Kate asked.

Sam remembered. His father and brother had convinced him that they were vampires and they had chopped off some of their heads. He was getting sick just thinking about it.

"I'm so sorry." He knew how inadequate that was.

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Kate said. Those three had killed the love of her life. Vampiric love was not like human love. It was so much more. It lasted longer. It was a bond that nobody could break. Only by death would it end. And not even then, not really.

"Should we turn him or kill him?" Damon asked.

"Turn me? What does that mean?" Sam asked.

"Turn you into a vampire. Duh."

A vampire? The doctor was wrong. Dean was telling the truth the whole time! And he had accused him of awful things. He felt terrible. Then he realized he had bigger problems right now. All three of them turned to the road when they heard an engine. It was very familiar to Sam.

"Oh crap," Dean said.

"What? Do you know them?" Bobby asked.

"They're vampires. We killed that woman's mate a few years ago."

"You killed her mate and left her alive? You never do that with vampires, boy."

"Yell later."


They hopped out of the car. Kate and Damon turned to face them. "Well, there's another one of them."

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam said.

Dean didn't respond to that. He didn't know what exactly Sam was apologizing for. For all he knew, Sam was just apologizing so that he wouldn't hurt the "nice people." Bobby eased back towards the trunk.

"You still have that gun?" Kate asked.

"No," Dean said.

"Well, that sucks for you, doesn't it?"

Kate bared her fangs and lunged towards Dean. Sam stood up and tried to pull her back. Damon pushed Sam down to the ground. "Kate, wait. We should turn them."

"No," Bobby said. He had approached Kate while everyone else was otherwise occupied. He neatly cut her head off. He turned towards Damon. Sam had been in the process of getting up and Damon repositioned himself so that Sam was between him and Bobby. Dean cursed the fact that he didn't have a machete.

Sam tried to step aside but Damon grabbed his arm and pulled him towards him. Sam struggled. He would not let someone use him against Dean. Not after the way he had treated him.

Damon pulled a knife from his pocket and put it against Sam's throat. "Stop struggling."

"Let him go," Dean said.

"Or what? Why don't you have the old man put the blade down?"

"Who you calling an old man?" Bobby asked.

"You. Now put it down," he said and pulled Sam back closer to him.

Sam averted his eyes. He didn't deserve anything from Bobby or Dean. He had treated them badly.

Bobby put the machete down. He couldn't use it without chopping Sam's head off, too.

"Back up," Damon ordered. He wanted to turn the one he had captured, but he needed to put some space between them and the other two first.

"No way," Dean said. He wasn't going to increase the distance between him and Sam.

Damon grabbed Sam's hair and pulled his head back to an unnatural angle. Sam groaned in pain. But he was able to get an angle and he shoved his elbow into Damon's stomach. Damon was startled and let go of Sam's hair. He was able to back away from the knife and slip away from Damon. Dean quickly picked up Bobby's dropped machete and flew towards Damon. Damon lunged at Dean with his knife. Sam reached up and grabbed at Damon's knife hand. As Dean sliced through Damon's neck, Damon's knife clattered to the ground harmless.

"I'm sorry," Sam said once again.

"Are you really you this time?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

Dean was inclined to believe him since he had participated in the vampire fight. But he was still kind of mad at him. "Get in the car," he said briskly.


When they got back to Bobby's, Bobby discreetly left the boys alone. He knew they had stuff to work out. They sat in silence for a while. Finally Dean asked, "How could you believe that stuff of me?"

"I don't know. The doctor made everything he said sound so reasonable and everything I've been told my whole life unreasonable. I mean, if you think about it, ghosts, demons, monsters, it's crazy right?"

"But, you've seen all that stuff with your own eyes," Dean pointed out in exasperation.

"He said it was all a delusion. That Dad started it all to cover up for killing Mom."

"You know Dad wouldn't do that."

"I know, but he would ask these questions and then, ask other questions," it was all sounding pretty lame to Sam. "I'm sorry. What happened with the wraith hunt?"

"It was the nurse. Martin killed her."

"That's great. Is he still there?" Sam was worried that he would be in trouble.

"No, he came back here with me, but the thought of rescuing you stressed him out too much and he took off."

"Should we try to find him?" Sam asked.

Dean was annoyed that Sam had changed the subject. Sam was usually the one who wanted to talk this stuff out. "No. I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"That's true. We don't know that much about him," Sam admitted.

"So, did you actually think I killed Jessica?" That was probably the most hurtful accusation Sam had hurled at him. He would never do anything to hurt Sam, and nothing that had happened to Sam had hurt him worse than that.

"Dean, I can't keep apologizing for this. It was a combination of the drugs and the doctor's suggestions."

"Yeah, Sam. It's always something with you. It's demon blood, or Ruby, or being possessed, or a number of other things. Nothing is ever your fault."

"Well, it's not like you're always so innocent. You sold your soul for me because you didn't want to live without me. You didn't do that for me, you did it for you. You broke the first seal. You let Jo get killed saving you from a hell hound." Sam knew that that last one was a low blow, but he was sick of Dean blaming him for everything. Maybe he had done more bad things, but he had been manipulated more, too. Demons had been hounding him his whole life, starting on his six-month birthday.

"OK, point taken," Dean said. Sam was right. They both had done things. They both had their excuses.

"So, are we OK?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, we're OK," Dean said. "Bitch," he added, just to prove it.

"Jerk," Sam answered back. He couldn't remember the last time they had done that. It felt good.

The End