Well, this is it. The final chapter. My two-shot kind of got away from me. I hope you all don't mind :) Thanks to everyone for reading and sending me your comments. I truly appreciate it. So, lets get to the end...it's a long one.


"Is the thing that brought me back the same thing that killed Mom?"


"Dad…am I the reason Mom died?"

Dean gasped and looked up at his father. John was pale, his face drained of all color, dark eyes wide with shock. Dean swallowed as he watched John reign in his emotions, something that Dean could see was extremely difficult for his father. Things always were when it came to Mary. John didn't like to talk about her for a reason…the pain of her loss was still a constant companion and any reminder caused the pain to grow. But, John had a son to consider…a son who was gazing up at him with sad, expectant eyes…a son who needed him to take his fears away.


"Is that the reason you love Dean more than me?"

"What? Sam…I don't…"

"Dad…I know…it's okay. I didn't understand before, but now I do. She died in my nursery, above my crib. It had to be because of me. Why…"

"Stop, Sam. You aren't the reason your mother died and I don't love Dean more than you. God…I love you so damned much, squirt. Yeah, I get frustrated with you and your stubbornness, but you get that from your mother and as much as it drives me crazy, it's one of the things I love about you. I'd die for you, kiddo…and now I know you'd do the same thing for me," John explained, his heart hurting at the thought of Sam believing he wasn't as loved as his brother.

Sam's eyes glistened as he stared up at his father. He blinked his tired eyes as he squeezed his father's hand. "I love you too, Dad…so much," he whispered before rolling his head and gazing up at his brother. Dean smiled and shook his head as he reached out and ruffled Sam's hair.

"You don't need to say it, Sammy…I already know. And you know I do too," Dean said as he stared down affectionately at his brother.

Sam smiled tiredly up at his brother. "I know," he whispered.

"Get some sleep, kiddo. You need your rest if you want to get out of here any time soon," John said as he continued to hold Sam's hand.

"'kay, Dad," Sam replied. He yawned as he closed his eyes and within seconds he was sleeping the sleep of the extremely exhausted and drugged.

John glanced up from his son's face to meet that of his other son. Dean shook his head and stepped back from the bed. "Geez, Dad…how long do you think he's had it in his head that you didn't love him as much as you love me?" he asked in a hushed voice.

John drew in a deep breath then slowly let it out, the act doing little to calm his fraying nerves. He looked back down at Sam and sighed. "I guess probably about the time I stopped treating him like a son and started treating him like a draftee in my personal war. I really didn't give him much of a choice but to think what he did, Dean," he finally answered.

"But, Dad…you…"

"I know what you're going to say, Dean, but it isn't the same thing. You love what we do…I've never had to force you into anything, but Sammy…I've forced this life onto him and just expect him to embrace it like you did. I yell at him because he gets excited about good grades when I should be telling him how proud I am of him…and I am proud, but for some reason I don't tell him that. I tell him that grades don't matter, that taking first place at the Science Fair is no big deal. I ask him why he can't be more like you…I've called him a screw-up," John ranted as he began to pace next to the bed.

Dean came around the bed and stopped his father. "Dad…you're doing the best you can. You…"

"Tell that to Sammy," John grumbled disgustedly.

Dean glanced down at Sam and brushed his hand over his face. "Sammy will be fine…he knows you love him, Dad," he said.

"Yeah, well…we'll see. I'm gonna fix things with the kid, but first I've got to figure out what the hell is going on…make sure Sammy's safe," John said.

"So, how do we do that?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. The one thing I do know is that who ever that yellow eyed son of a bitch is…he ain't getting near my family again!"


Two Weeks Later

"You sure you'll be okay here on the couch, Sammy?" Dean asked as he gently pushed a pillow underneath Sam's casted leg.

"I'm fine, Dean," Sam said, hazel eyes rolling as his brother tucked a small blanket around his legs.

"Last thing I need is for you to catch a cold, princess. I ain't cooking you chicken soup and I'm for sure not wiping your snotty nose," Dean quipped, lips curled into a slight grin.

"Yes you will…you know you will," Sam chuckled, the teen turning his head so he could peer out the window of their latest home. He furrowed his brow as he watched his father walking along the treeline that hid the small cabin from the dirt road they had driven in on. "What's Dad doing?" he asked as he turned back to face Dean.

Dean glanced out the window then back at his brother. "He's checking the perimeter," he answered truthfully.

Sam sighed and dropped his gaze to his lap. "He still thinks that the demon may be coming after me doesn't he?" he asked softly.

"We don't know, Sammy…we're just being careful. Until Bobby can find something on what we're dealing with, we have to take the necessary precautions to keep you safe," Dean replied.

"I don't get it, Dean. If I'm in danger from this demon, why did it save me in the first place?" Sam asked.

"Another thing we don't know. But the fact that it did save you means it's a threat. Demons don't just save people unless they have a reason," Dean said.

Sam looked up and gripped Dean's forearm, stopping the young man from straightening the blanket for the fifth time. "Dean, if Dad was so worried, why didn't we just go to Bobby's? Why come out here in the middle of nowhere?" he asked.

"He didn't want to be on the road for too long. Makes it too easy for an attack. He figured if he found a place close we could get moved in and have the place locked down and tightened up before anything could go down," Dean answered.

"But why all the way out here in the woods?"

"Less civilians in the way I guess," Dean said as he dug through his duffel bag and pulled out a container of salt. He began to lay down salt lines, all the while keeping one eye on his baby brother.

"If something goes down, it's just us Dean. I can't do anything…so really, it's just you and Dad…"

"Hasn't that always been enough, Sammy?" Dean asked as he stopped what he was doing and turned to face his brother.

"Yeah…you know what I mean though. I don't want anything to happen to you or Dad," Sam said softly.

"Nothings gonna happen, Sammy. Besides, Caleb and Josh are on their way back from their hunt. We won't be alone," Dean said.

"I guess…"

"Sammy…don't worry. We've got it covered," Dean said as he moved back to the couch and crouched down next to his brother.

"I know you do…I just…I'm scared, Dean." Sam hung his head, the teen ashamed to admit to his brother that he was afraid.

"Hey…look at me, Sam…look at me," Dean demanded as he reached out and lifted Sam's face up. Soft hazel eyes slowly looked up and locked on Dean's green ones. "I'm afraid too, Sam. So is Dad. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I don't believe you," Sam whispered.

"No? Well, we are. We always are when you're safety is on the line."

"But, you're both always so calm and cool…"

"We have to be, Sammy. Mistakes can happen if we let our fear take over. We can't take that chance…not when it comes to you," Dean said.

"I don't know how you do it, Dean."

Dean cocked his head to the side and eyed his brother curiously. "Do what?" he asked.

"This," Sam answered, arms gesturing in front of him. "You and Dad…its like you were born to hunt. Like you thrive on it. Why are we so different? I don't get it," he continued.

"Sam…we're not that different."

"Yes we are. I have nothing to contribute. I just…"

"Whoa…what do you mean you have nothing to contribute? We'd be dead in the water without your research skills…"

"You can go to Bobby for research. I have nothing unique to contribute, okay?"

"Sammy…for petes sake. Everything about you is unique. Nobody…not even Bobby…can research like you. You do research, train, hunt and still you manage to get straight A's! None of us could do that…none of us would care to do that. But you care…about everything. You care about everyone. I seriously don't know how you do it and stay sane. You amaze me, okay?"

"Dean…you're just saying that," Sam whispered, eyes dropping back to his lap.

"No, I'm not. Give yourself some credit, Sammy."

Sam looked up and smiled sadly. "Thanks, Dean," he whispered even more softly than before.

Dean smiled fondly at his brother then shook his head. "So, can we put this nonsense to rest now? We all have something to contribute, Sammy…each and every one of us," he said, eyebrow raised as he watched his little brother.

Finally, Sam nodded. "Yeah…okay," he replied.

"Okay then. I'm gonna finish getting this place ready then I'm gonna head outside to help Dad. You need anything?" Dean queried as he went back to laying salt lines.

"No…I think I'm just going to take a nap," Sam answered as he relaxed back against the pillow Dean had placed behind him.

"Okay, Sammy…you get some rest," Dean said, the young man smiling warmly when he glanced over and found Sam already out for the count. "Stupid kid," he whispered to himself before getting to work putting the finishing touches on the protections he'd placed about the room.

Once he was done, Dean walked over to where Sam lay sleeping and pulled the thin blanket up higher over his chest. He watched the teen for a few moments then walked to the door. He stepped out onto the small porch and closed the door quietly behind him. He spotted his father on the other side of the Impala and made his way down the few steps then across the small yard. He watched as John flipped his cell phone shut and shoved it into his jacket pocket, the man gazing out over the thin covering of trees that surrounded them.

"Who was that, Dad?" Dean asked as he stepped up to his father.

"Josh…they've been delayed. Looks like it's just the three of us for a while longer," John answered.

"They okay?" Dean queried worriedly.

"Yeah…guess there's a big wreck on the highway…traffics backed up for miles. They're gonna try to backtrack and go around," John replied as he turned toward the small cabin. "How's Sammy?"

"He's sleeping," Dean replied.

"You got the cabin all set?"

"You know I do, Dad. You think I'd leave Sammy in there alone if I didn't?"

"You check for demon sign inside?"

"Yes, Dad. There's no demons in there and there's no way any will get inside."

"I'm sorry, Dean. I know you've got things covered. I'm going crazy with this whole thing. The sooner we can take care of this bastard the better."

"It's okay, Dad. I know how you feel. I hate everything about this. I just want it over with," Dean said.

"Yeah…well, we better get inside. I don't like having Sammy out of my sight for very long," John said. "Pull the Impala up closer and we'll get out gear inside."

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

John nodded and stepped around the car as Dean got behind the wheel. He walked to the porch steps and waited for Dean to pull up. Together, they got all of their gear out of the trunk and into the cabin, all without waking the youngest member of their family. John dragged an old chair across the room and sat it next to the couch near Sam's head then walked across the room to the kitchen area.

"You sit. I'm gonna fix us something to eat," John instructed as he pulled supplies from a box he'd placed on the counter.

Soon, John and Dean were feasting on cold bologna sandwiches and potato chips and washing it all down with orange sodas. Both would have preferred a beer, and yes John on occasion would allow his underage son to partake, but not when they had a very important job to do…the most important job…protect Sam. No, soda was as strong as it got when so much was on the line. The men finished their meal in silence then John stood and moved next to the window above the couch. The sky was already dark and John was beginning to second guess his decision to bring his sons out into the woods as opposed to staying in town. He'd feel better about the situation if Caleb and Josh were there, but that couldn't be helped now. They'd get there when they could. John shook his head against his thoughts. He was right to leave the town. If there was an attack, there would be fewer witnesses, fewer potential victims to worry about. There was only one person that he and Dean needed to worry about and he would not allow anybody to distract them from what they had to do.

John turned to look over his shoulder when he sensed movement and smiled slightly when he saw Dean beside him. He turned back to look out the window and frowned when he thought he saw movement just past the Impala. He leaned in closer to the glass and craned his neck, looking from left to right, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary.

"Dad…what is it?" Dean asked as he placed his hand on John's shoulder.

John glanced around and smiled when he saw the gun drawn in Dean's other hand. "I don't know…maybe nothing. Thought I saw something move, but now I don't see anything," he replied as he moved toward the door.

Dean moved up behind his father, but stopped when John turned and shook his head. "You stay with Sammy…I'll be right back," John instructed.

"But, Dad…what if it's the demon? You can't go out there alone…"

"Dean…we can't leave Sam alone."


"If something happens…to both of us…and Sammy wakes up? He'll find a way to get off that couch and out the door and then what? He'll be at the mercy of the demon."

Dean looked over at his sleeping brother and nodded. "Yeah…okay. Be careful," he finally said.

"You know I will…watch out for your brother," John replied.

"Yeah…of course."

John nodded and stepped out onto the porch then pulled the door shut behind him. Dean moved to the window and watched as John, gun drawn and ready, stepped off of the porch and disappeared around the corner of the cabin. Dean continued to watch, waiting with bated breath for his father to reappear. When several minutes passed and John failed to appear, Dean began to get extremely nervous. Finally, he pulled out his phone and punched in Caleb's number. He listened to the ringing, the young man sighing with relief when the call was answered.

"Caleb…how far out are you?" Dean asked hastily, green eyes scouring the darkness outside for his father.

"Kid, what's wrong?" Caleb's voice called on the other end of the line.

"I don't know…Dad saw something. He went out to investigate and he hasn't come back. He told me to stay with Sammy, but…I can't just leave him out there. When are you gonna get here?" Dean cried, voice verging on panic.

"You do what your daddy told you and stay with half pint. We'll be there as soon as we can…"

"Caleb, he's out there all alone! I can't just sit here while he's…he…he could be hurt!"

"Dean, I get it, okay? But your little brother needs you with him. We'll be there…we're almost to the turnoff."

Dean glanced over as Sam moaned softly in his sleep. He knew his friend was right, that he should just do as his father told him, but the hunter in him told him he needed to act. His father could be in real trouble and he was just sitting inside, doing nothing. Decision made, he turned his attention back to the call.

"Caleb, I've got to help Dad. The cabin is protected…Dad isn't. Just get here…fast!" Dean ended the call, cutting off the shout of protest from his friend. He reached over the couch and pulled the curtain shut then he looked down at his brother. Sam had settled once again and Dean was certain the teen wouldn't wake. He started for the door, but hesitated, his father's voice sounding in his head. He shook his head and resumed his journey to the door. He pulled the door open then sent one last glance his brother's way before stepping out onto the porch and pulling the door shut behind him.

Dean stepped to the edge of the porch and scanned the area just past the Impala. He saw nor heard nothing and his heart rose in his throat at the implications. He wanted to call out for his father, but he knew better than to alert any potential enemy to his presence. Instead, he carefully descended the steps and looked around again once he was on the ground. He held his revolver in his right hand as he eased around the Impala, wide eyes scanning the darkness, ever ready for any movement. He quietly crept around the side of the cabin in the direction his father had gone, but still he saw nothing. He moved around the back of the cabin and gazed out to the trees in the near distance. He began to ease along the back of the cabin when suddenly a hand grabbed his shoulder. He spun around, revolver at the ready, a startled yelp escaping his lips.

"Dean! It's me!" John shouted as Dean staggered back, gun held high, aimed at John's head. "Dean!"

Dean slowly lowered his weapon, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He reached out to steady himself against the cabin and swallowed before sucking in a deep breath. "D-Dad?" he gasped breathlessly.

"What the hell are you doing out here? I gave you an order, son!" John hissed as he grabbed Dean's arm and began to drag him back around the side of the cabin.

"I…you didn't come back. I was afraid something happened to you," Dean sputtered, the young man regaining his composure as he pulled his arm out of his father's grasp.

"I gave you a direct order! Stay with Sammy…now he's by himself! Don't you understand how vulnerable he is?" John snapped.

"I do, Dad, but…"

"But nothing! You disobeyed me and left Sam unprotected!"

"The salt lines are…"

"That's not the point! What if Sam wakes up and we're not there? You really think he's just gonna lay there?"

"Dad…I'm sorry. I was just worried about you."

"You let me worry about myself. You're job is to take care of Sammy."

John moved around Dean and eased around the front of the cabin. He nodded his head then moved out of cover and around the porch, Dean following close behind.

"Did you see anything?" Dean asked quietly.

"No…must have been the wind," John answered shortly.

Dean sighed and hurried to catch up to his father. "I'm sorry, Dad. I screwed up, but I just couldn't leave you out here," he said.

"Dean…I understand…I really do, but if it comes down to me or Sam…you pick Sam. Plain and simple…you pick Sam," John said, his voice softer now as he glanced at his son.

"I know…I'm sorry."

"Okay…just remember, an order's an order."


"Let's check on your brother," John said as he started for the porch.

Dean nodded and followed after his father. John placed his foot on the bottom step when suddenly his body was grabbed by an invisible force and thrown halfway across the yard. He let out a startled yell, followed by a winded grunt when he hit the ground.

"Dad!" Dean cried as he started to run toward his father. He was stopped in his tracks though, the young man unable to move, his eyes going wide when he saw a man…the man from the surveillance tape…stroll out from the tree line, a smirk on his evil face. The man's eyes glowed yellow as he looked first at Dean then at John as the elder hunter dragged himself up from the ground.

"You son of a bitch!" John hissed as he turned toward the demon. "Stay the hell away from my boys!"

"John Winchester…we meet again," the man said, voice deceptively soft for the evil that oozed from him.

"Again? What the hell are you talking about?" John spat as he took a lunge at the demon, only to find that he, like Dean, was glued to the ground, unable to take a single step.

"You don't remember me?" the man queried mockingly. "Oh yeah…you wouldn't remember me," he added.

"What do you want?" Dean asked, green eyes narrowed as he stared down the smirking demon.

"Oh…I came to check on my boy. Making sure you're taking better care of him now," the demon answered as he stepped around John and walked up to Dean.

John growled as the demon stepped to within a few feet of his son. "Get away from him," he warned.

The demon turned and held up his hands in mock surrender. "Oops…sorry…don't want to get near your favored son," he said as he stepped back from Dean and turned toward John.

"You're full of sh*t," John hissed.

"Am I? I mean, the way you treat Dean and then the way you treat poor little Sammy? It's pretty clear who your favorite is, Johnny. Of course, knowing Sam really isn't yours may have something to do with it."

Dean gasped as he jerked his attention to his father. He watched John narrow his eyes, could see his teeth grinding and he knew that if the man could move, he would tear the demon apart with his bare hands.

"What the hell are you talking about? Sam is mine!" John barked, voice low and menacing as his body shook with rage.

"Oh, I keep forgetting…you don't remember that night. Don't remember what was promised to me."

"What night? Why don't you just spit it out you piece of sh*t!"

"I'm talking about the night Sam was given to me."

"What!" both Winchesters shouted in unison, bewildered eyes finding each other before moving back to the vile creature who stood before them.

The demon giggled with glee as he looked from one shocked hunter to the other. Finally, he focused on John. "You were there…well, sort of there. You're neck was snapped, but we don't really need to go into detail."

"You've been in the pit too long…"

"Well, I can see I'm going to have to spell this out for you."

"Why are you here? What do you want with my son?"

"I'm here because I'm not happy with the way you're taking care of my boy. I need him alive and well, yet you seem bound and determined to make sure he doesn't make it to twenty two!" the demon suddenly shouted, his face turning red as his body began to tremble.

"He's not your boy!" Dean snapped, furious that this hellspawn would claim to own his brother.

"Oh, but Dean…he is. He was given to me…a long time ago…before he was even conceived. I'm just making sure that my investment is well taken care of," the demon shot back.

"Who gave him to you? You're crazy!" Dean shouted.

"Your mother gave him to me," the demon answered with amusement, knowing that his answer would strike deep within the men's hearts.

"What! Now I know you're crazy! My mother would never do that!"

"Well…technically, you're right. She didn't know what the cost would be when she made the deal."

"Deal? What deal?" John called, eager to get the demon's attention away from his son.

The demon turned back to John and smiled. "The deal she made to bring you back, John," he answered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," John hissed menacingly.

"Of course you don't. How about I fill you in."

"Okay…fill me in," John said coolly.

"It's kinda a long story."

"I've got time."

"Okay then. It all started when I possessed your future father-in-law..and man, he didn't like you much!" the demon started, lips curled up in amusement. "He…I…broke your neck. Sweet little Mary couldn't bear to lose you and I needed something from her, so I offered her a deal."

"Sammy," Dean whispered, green eyes flicking toward the cabin before returning to the demon.

"Yep…of course, Mary didn't know what I wanted. She accepted my deal…knowing she had ten years before I came to collect. So, after a very long, wet kiss…which if you think about it is kind of icky since I was in her father at the time…the deal was sealed. John was resurrected and Samuel didn't survive…the rest is history."

"So, it was you in Sam's nursery that night…the one who killed my mother," Dean said, voice dripping with hatred.

"She got in the way," the demon said as it turned toward Dean. "If she'd stayed away…let me do what I had to do, she would have lived. Of course, she didn't remember me…that whole mind erase, memory changing thingy I got going on and all…that thing you've experienced first hand, Dean…any you John, all the way back before your boys were born. I was just there, checking on my investment, adding a little insurance when wifey poo decided to step in. She remembered then…she thought she could get out of the deal so I killed her."

"You son of a bitch!" John seethed. "What did you do to my baby?"

"Oh, that. I bled into his mouth…nothing big," the demon answered with a chuckle.

"What! I'm gonna rip you apart!"

"Like I ripped your Mary apart? I don't think so, Johnny. You can't touch me…I'm more than you've ever come across before. I'm going to check in on my boy and then…"

"You stay away from Sam! I swear…you'll regret it if you go near him!" John shouted, fury raging through his veins.

"Wow…not very thankful are you? If it weren't for me, Sam would be dead…because of you. You should show a little more gratitude!"

"You're not taking my brother you son of a bitch!" Dean hissed.

"Oh…you're right…I'm not. Not yet at least. I'm leaving him with you two. I need him trained. I need him strong. I'll come for him when the time is right."

"Then I won't train him anymore. I'll keep him away from hunting," John said.

"No, you won't. You'll do exactly what I wish because it's what you want too…well, sort of at least."

"No. Not now that I know what you want. Sam won't be trained any longer…he'll go to school and he'll…"

"Nope…sorry. You'll keep on doing what you're doing because you won't remember any of this. You won't remember me…nothing about this. You'll remember the accident Sam had, but that's it," the demon explained.

John narrowed his eyes and glared at the demon. "Then why tell us all of this?"

"Because I love to see you squirm, John. I love that I'm giving you all the answers, then I'm taking them all away. I love that there will be this niggling feeling in the back of your mind that you just can't put your finger on. I love that you'll start riding Sam even harder. I need you to push him away, just like you've been doing," the demon answered.

Dean looked over and met John's gaze then he turned back toward the demon. "Why did you kill the driver of the truck?" he asked, the question momentarily throwing the demon off. He quickly recovered though and smiled at the young hunter.

"Because he damaged my property," the demon answered matter of factly.

"You messed up you know," Dean stated.

"How's that?" the demon asked.

"The truck. You left the original damage," Dean answered smugly.

"Ah, yes…that was an oversight on my part, but in my defense…I had nearly an entire town to do my mind meld on. I thought it was kind of funny though…the cops couldn't figure out how all the damage to the truck corresponded with little Sammy's injuries. They were baffled."

"You're forgetting something else though," John called, bringing the demon's attention back to himself.

"What's that?" the demon queried curiously.

"You say we won't remember you…that we'll have new memories of what happened to Sam, but what about…"

"I've already taken care of Singer, and I can take care of the other two when they get here," the demon interrupted.

"What do you mean you've already taken care of Bobby?" John asked fearfully.

"Oh, don't worry. You're friend is perfectly fine…just doesn't remember any of this business. That's why he hasn't gotten back to you…why you can't get ahold of him. I…well when I say I, I mean Rufas…sent him on a hunt. And your friends…they won't remember either."

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but just then, a soft voice called out and suddenly both Winchesters hearts filled with dread. They jerked their attention to the cabin where to their shock and dismay, Sam stood, or rather leaned against the railing near the steps.

"Sam! Get back in the house! Now!" John shouted, fear causing his voice to tremble no matter how hard he tried to make is steady.

"Dad…Dean…are you okay?" Sam called, his hazel eyes fixing on the man who stood in front of his father and brother. He gasped when the man turned and smiled, eyes glowing a sickly yellow. He stumbled back then fell hard onto the wooden floor of the porch when the yellow eyes man began to walk toward him.

"Sammy! No! You stay away from him you bastard!" Dean screamed as he fought furiously to break free of the demon's hold.

"Sam! Get into the house!" John shouted, but he knew it would be too late. Sam was in a cast nearly up to his hip and he was most likely hurt from his fall.

The demon turned and smiled smugly as he ascended the steps. He turned his head and stared down at the struggling teen before kneeling down and gently cupping Sam's cheek. Sam immediately stilled, his body unable to pull away no matter how hard he tried. He could hear his family screaming his name, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the yellow eyed man who leaned over him. His heart raced with fear, his hazel eyes wide as he stared up at the man.

"Don't be afraid, Sammy boy. I'm not going to hurt you or your family. I'm just here to check on you…make sure that you're okay…that you're being treated well," the demon cooed softly.

Sam's eyes narrowed at the demons insinuation. "My family takes good care of me," he hissed. "Why are you here?"

"I told you why I'm here."

"What do you want with me?" Sam asked fearfully.

"All in good time, Sam…all in good time," the demon answered before taking his hand away from Sam's cheek and laying it upon his head.

Sam gasped then fell unconscious against the porch floor, his head lolling to the side, cheek softly lying against the rough wood. "Sleep well my child…sleep well," the demon whispered before standing and turning toward the suddenly frantic hunters.

"What did you do to him!" Dean screamed, green eyes glued to his brother's still form.

"Don't worry, Dean…he's just sleeping…no harm done to your precious little brother," the demon called lightly.

"You son of a bitch…if you've hurt him…" John started, only to be cut off.

"Like I said…he's just sleeping. I'm not the one who got him killed, Johnny…I'm the one who brought him back. Why would I hurt him?"

"Because you're a filthy, hellspawned demon!" Dean snapped.

The demon cocked his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, yes, I suppose you're right, but I need Sam. I need him safe and healthy."

"You leave him alone," John warned.

Yellow eyes glanced over at John and considered his warning. Finally, he shook his head and smiled. "Nope…he's mine and one day I'll come for him and there'll be nothing you can do to stop me because you won't even know I'm coming…you won't know anything about me."

"I'm going to kill you."

"No, Johnny…I don't believe you will," the demon said.

"Well, then if he doesn't, I will," Dean hissed.

The demon turned toward Dean and smiled. "No, I don't think you will either," he said.

"I'll put a bullet between your eyes if you come near my brother you son of a bitch," Dean threatened.

"See, a bullet won't kill me, Dean."

"Something will…and I'll find it…you can count on that."

"Okay…good luck with that," the demon said before turning and looking out over the trees. "Looks like your friends are coming…time to finish this," he said as he stepped up to Dean and touched his head.

Dean dropped like a sack of potatoes, his father's cries of anger lost to his unhearing ears. The demon turned toward John and smiled. "Your turn, Johnny," he said as he stepped up to the glowering man.

"You're going to die…mark my words, you will die by a Winchester's hand you bastard," John hissed.

"Not likely, but I commend you for optimism, John."

The demon lifted a hand to the hunter's head and suddenly, John Winchester's world went black.


Dean groaned as he slowly came awake, his nose twitching as the aroma of freshly fried bacon reached him. He sat up and glanced over at the other twin bed in the small room. Sam was still sound asleep, his broken leg propped up on two fluffy pillows. Dean pushed himself up onto his elbow, his eyes never leaving his brother's face. He thought back to the terrible night when Sam got hurt. The hunt was supposed to be easy…just a black dog that needed to put down. The black dog had other plans and had attacked Sam, the two of them going over the embankment, rolling over and over each other as they plummeted down the side of the hill.

Sam's leg had been snapped nearly in two, the bone sticking out through the flesh, but he was alive. The black dog on the other hand did not fare so well. It had impaled itself on a tree branch that stuck up from a fallen tree, it's whines and howls dying down as it's life left it. John and Dean had run as fast as they safely could down the hill to where Sam lay gasping on the cold ground. They splinted the teen's leg as best they could then John had lifted him into his arms and carried him out of the woods. That was two weeks ago and yet the fear was still very fresh in Dean's mind. He'd nearly lost his brother that night. He shuddered at the thought before dragging himself from his bed and trudging to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, Dean was showered and dressed and ready for breakfast. John was sitting at the table when Dean walked in. He glanced up from his journal and nodded as Dean grabbed a plate and filled it with bacon and eggs. Dean set his plate on the table then poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting down to eat. He glanced up when John cleared his throat.

"Sam still sleeping?" John asked.

"Yeah…kid's wiped out," Dean answered.

"It's been two weeks, Dean. Time to stop fussing over him. He needs to get up and moving if he's going to get his strength back," John said.

"Dad…he had a compound fracture. He…"

"It comes with the job, Dean. We've got to get moving on soon and all Sam's been doing since leaving the hospital is lying around," John interrupted.

"He's been healing, Dad…not lying around. He nearly died, or did you forget that?" Dean snapped.

"He didn't nearly die…he broke his leg."

"He shouldn't have been on the hunt, Dad."

John slammed his journal shut and glared over the table at his son. "We've been over this, Dean. It's high time Sam get more involved in the hunts and less in school," he snapped impatiently.

"Dad…do you even care about Sam?" Dean asked, green eyes staring intently at his father.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I care about Sam!" John replied gruffly.

"Well, it seems like you don't. You carried Sam out of those woods, Dad. He was screaming in pain before he finally passed out and now, just two weeks later you want him up on his feet and ready to hunt again?" Dean cried in bewilderment.

John sighed as he brushed a hand through his hair. "Dean…that night, I was terrified. I thought I'd lost Sam. I love that kid so much and that's why I can't let him just be carried by you. He needs to toughen up…he needs to be able to take care of himself. I don't know what it is, but for some reason, I think he may be in danger. I just want him to be safe and if that means I have to be a hardass, then so be it. Now, go get your brother up. He needs to eat," he instructed.

Dean stared at his father. "What do you mean he may be in danger?" he asked.

"I don't know…it may be nothing…paranoia even. It's just a feeling, but I want Sam to be at the top of his game, just in case," John answered. "Now go."

"Yes, sir," Dean said, his stomach in knots at his father's words. He walked into the small bedroom and sat on his bed facing Sam. He watched Sam for a few minutes, his thoughts racing through his mind. "I'll never let anything happen to you, Sam…never," he whispered as he gently shook his brother awake.

The End

Okay...so, that's it. What did you think? I hope the ending didn't disappoint. Please let me know. Thank you all...I love you all!