A/N So, we come to the end...I hope it meets your approval.
Bobby poured Pete a large whiskey, and lifted his own glass in a salute.
"Don't think we coulda done this without you" he said.
"Of course yah couldn't!" Pete laughed, and drained his glass. "More than happy to help, and get rid of at least
one maggot from this war" he held his glass for Bobby to top up. "We are at war, aren't we?"
Bobby skulled his whiskey and refilled both their glasses. "That, I believe, is an understatement. We got so much
goin' on here I don't know where to start. But you probably know most of it."
Pete drained his second shot, and nodded. "Yah know, dontcha, that those boys are heroes. Aint none like 'em,
among any hunters I ever met." He stood, and streched . "I'm just glad to get them back into the battle. Yah
think Dean'll be ok?"
Bobby looked downcast. "He's torn up inside pretty bad, and he was in that pile of disgusting for way too long.
He's strong, though, I've seen him pull through shit worse than this. Well, maybe as bad."
Pete shook his hand, and took his leave. Bobby watched him drive out, grateful for the man's help, and grateful that he still had friends he could call
for just that.
With a soul deep sigh, he went back inside, and took the whiskey bottle and two glasses with him to the study,
were Sam had made up a cot for his brother. Bobby stopped at the entrance, his heart breaking at this sight of
Sam holding his brother in almost a lover's embrace, his face wet with tears, his brother asleep and curled into
his sibling's embrace.
Bobby cleared his throat, and Sam looked up to watch him enter, his pain and angst clear on his clear features.
"He's really sick, Bobby. I don't know how bad he's hurt, but he's still running a fever, and he keeps throwing up"
Bobby walked over to them, and felt Dean's forehead. It was hot, but he thought maybe not as bad as before,
and told Sam as much.
"Best you let him rest. And you need a rest, too. I'll watch him for a little"
"What if he wakes up and can't find me?"
"I can find you. I'll call you as soon as there's any change. Grab a blanket and have a nap on the sofa." He
handed Sam a whiskey glass, half full.
"We'll try Cas again. He can clear this up in a touch. He won't let Dean suffer, you know that. And he won't lose
Dean. We won't lose Dean. I promise you, Sam, he'll be ok"
Sam wiped an errant tear tracing a path along his cheek, and nodded. "He's been through so much. I don't get
why he has to suffer like this. Why it can't ever be easy for him?"
Bobby laid a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "He's not the only Winchester to suffer, Sam. You take your fair
share of knocks, and you both keep coming back, never stay down for the full count. You know he'd do it all day,
every day, just to make the world safe. You know that. You heard the urchins" he drained his glass "Dean has a
Sam nodded his head, once again wiping his eyes. "Biggest damn soul to walk the face of this Earth." He smiled,
sad but a little more relieved, and Bobby slapped his back.
Urass looked at is fellow urchins, from the top of the large rock he had chosen. He couldn't believe it when Sam
told him he was in charge now, and that it was his job to teach the other urchins to be men. Amross stood on
the large rock with him, just back a little, his 'first lieutenant', promoted to that position by Angry Bobby.
He raised his arms, and threw his hood back.
"Urchins important! Urchins is men!" he proclaimed.
Urchins important men!"
"Urchins is men!"
"Urchins can go home. Back to low caves. Urchins no never have to come to upside again!"
"Urchins go home"
"Never come upside"
"No never come back"
"Urchins never come back again"
Dean was awake. He didn't know when he'd woken up, just that he wasn't in pain, now he was. The sheets felt
like they were grating his skin, and he was hot. Too hot.
His throat was burning, and his stomach was doing slow, nauseous rolls that made him want to heave all over
His tongue felt too big, and he was thirsty. Really, really thirsty.
He tried to turn over, and that made his stomach give up its fight to hold its contents down, and he felt his body
buck, ready to expel whatever was left inside of him.
Once again, strong hands grabbed him, and gently supported him while he vomited in shaking, frail spasms, a
bucket held firmly at his chin.
After what seemed like hours, his stomach went back to its queasy rolling and he let his head flop back in to the
firm grip supporting him.
"Sammy?" he whispered.
"No, son, it's Bobby." The strong hands wiped his mouth, his burning forehead, a cool moist cloth seemingly the
most wonderful sensation right now.
"Sam's having a nap. Are you thirsty?"
Dean cracked his swollen eyes a little, and made out the hunched shouldered trucker cap of his pseudo father
"Yes son, I'm here"
Dean raised his arm, trembling with the strain, and touched Bobby's chest. "I called you. You didn't come"
Bobby felt his heart cry out with the pain of the revelation. "I'm here now, boy. I'm here"
Dean sighed. "You're really here? Really?"
Bobby felt a tear drop from his eye, and he swiped it away angrily. "Yes, boy, I'm here. Sam is here. Are you
thirsty? Would you like a drink?"
Dean started to cry, he couldn't help himself. He as so weak, so hot, so tired, he couldn't control his emotions. He
managed a small nod, and when Bobby turned to grab the water he found Sam standing there, ice cold glass in
his hand. Without a word he slipped in to support his brother, who greedily drank from the glass. Sam allowed
him only a few sips, and took it away, which elicited a cry from his suffering brother.
"Give it a minute, Dean" he quietly soothed "Let's see if you can hold this down first"
Dean looked up, seeing his brother, and slowly wrapped an arm around Sam's waist, pulling him weakly as close
as he could. Sam looked over at Bobby; they both knew that Dean would never allow this type of contact if he
had half measure of reality right now.
Dean held the water down, and after a few minutes he lifted his face again, looking at his brother as if he
thought he's never see him again.
"You want some more water, Dean?"
Dean nodded, trying to reach for the glass, but then he stopped, and alarmed expression on his pale face. Sam
lifted his chin. "Are you allright?"
Dean threw up all over both of them, and then started to cry again, his desperate sobs making the whole thing
that much worse.
After Sam had them both cleaned and the cot sheets changed, refusing any help from Bobby, he nursed his
brother until he fell into a fitful sleep.
Standing up, he gave Bobby the most pitiful look, and Bobby had to turn away to hide his own pain.
"He can't last much longer like this, Bobby. We aughta get him to a hospital"
"I don't think they can help him" Bobby hoarsely replied.
"Dammnit, Cas, where are you?" Sammy cried out. "Dean needs you, really needs you, surely you can leave your
war for one fucking minute and help him?"
A flutter of wings, a soft shift in the air, and Cas stood in front of him. "What is wrong with Dean?" he growled.
"Oh, thank god, Cas, I thought you'd never come" gushed Sam, and Bobby pointed behind the angel, at the
hunter slowly dying on a day cot in Bobby's library. Cas looked at Dean, then back at Bobby and Sam.
"Why didn't you call me sooner?" he demanded.
Bobby grabbed Sam's arm, and gave him a 'calm down' look.
"We called, Cas. We called" Bobby told him.
The angel just frowned at them, and turned to his prone friend. "He is dying"
"Thank you, captain obvious. Can you fix him?" Bobby gruffed.
"Of course" Cas laid his hand on Dean, then stood straight. All three watched Dean, anticipation heavy in the
Dean groaned, and stretched, his arms raising, his eyes screwed tight, and he blinked them open, sighting three
men staring at him, his brother with tear filled eyes.
"What the fuck? What's going on?" he sat up, alarmed, confused, and wide awake.
Sam fell onto the bed, grabbing him up in a breath stopping bear hug that had Dean confused. "Dude, personal
space. And..can't breathe" he pushed Sam back, and looked hard at him. "What happened? What's going on?"
he pulled the sheet back, revealing only boxers. "Did I throw up on myself? I think I peed the bed….someone tell
me what happened before I have to beat it outta you."
Sam and bobby gave a very relieved laugh, while Cas frowned his darkest angel scowl.
Dean sipped his coffee, and shook his head. "I dunno, man, that's the way you tell it, but…" he frowned
"Urchins? Really? Named Yer Ass?"
Bobby laughed, and Sam smiled brightly, happy that his brother was up, healthy, and had eaten enough to keep
a small African village for a month. Cas had left soon after healing Dean, the war in heaven needing his
"Urass. And if it weren't for him, I don't think we coulda got you out in one piece" Sam replied. Dean raised his
cup. "To your Ass. May your Ass live a long and healthy life."
Sam and Bobby joined his laughter, all tension, for the moment, leaving the three hunters.
"What happened to the dog?" Dean asked.
"Pete took him back to animal control. The family of his owner wanted him. Better that way. He was a big
coward" Bobby explained.
"Well, I guess that's for the best. " Dean put his coffee cup down. "What now? Mother has to be pissed you guys
took out her monster. Is she gunna come gunning for us now?"
Bobby shook his head. "Who knows, boy. I just think the big picture got a whole lot bigger. If you're up to it, we
need to get back to serious research mode. Pete left us some info, and a few contacts on different things that've
been going down. Time we took a look at it"
"Sounds like a plan." Sam looked at his brother, an knew his eyes were once again betraying him with their
unreleased tears. Dean frowned at him.
"Dude, we are not gonna have any kind of a chic flic moment, are we?"
Sam smiled at him, and an errant tear traced his nose, before he swiped it away. "No. No chic flick moments. I'm
just glad you're ok"
A/N...please feel free to review... and have a look at my next story...Harvester of Sorrow...