Wow! I don't believe it! But I was writing this, I realised that there wasn't much more I could do - this is it, the final chapter! I have had so much fun with this! Thank you to everyone for your kind support!

In regards to chapter 7, I have replaced it to remove the word "faggot". A reader made a complaint about it's use, and I want to make an apology. I write these stories purely to entertain and share my love for Supernatural (and any other show I write about), and it is certainly not to cause offense. It upset me a lot that I have offended someone as I like to consider myself a good person who hurts no one, so the fact that I cause offense fills me with guilt, so I hope that changing the chapter will make amends. I also sent the reader a private apology. I do not mind people not enjoying my stories for plot or writing style, but not for causing them offense. Again I would like to highlight the fact that I am in no way homophobic and I was purely highlighting a prejudice many male nurses face (I have friends who are nurses) through humour. For this story I have tried to be American to suit the Supernatural style, but I am Scottish and faggot is not a word used where I come from, so I didn't know how bad it is to some (well it is actually used to mean a type of food or a polite insult to friends meaning idiot, not a derogatory term). However, I know now so will not use it again. I thank the reader for letting me know my error so that I can change things.

Anyway, enjoy this chapter, apologies for the long discussion here! I hope you have liked my story as much as I have enjoyed writing it (and reading your feedback!) XD I hope you don't feel it ended to abruptly, but I didn't want to drag anything out. And you know the Winchesters - they don't like the public hearing them "talking" :P

Dean's head spun around to face his little brother so fast he could have sworn it would fall off. "Did you just speak?"

"No Dean, you're just imaging it." Sam said sarcastically, discarding the oxygen mask he had just removed from his face. He no longer felt any difficulty breathing.

"Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humour, bitch."

"Jerk." The brothers smiled at each other.

"Well girls, I hate to spoil this beautiful moment, but Charles here is anxious to join the love in." Bobby couldn't hide the massive grin that had spread across his face.

"Um… what Mr Singer means is, I need to look you over Sam. Now that you're fully awake."

"But I feel Ok. I mean, my side doesn't hurt as much, no cramps, my breathing's a lot better, and my nausea is gone."

"My shirt is happy about that." Sam just glared at Dean.

"That's great Sam, but it's my job. And I gotta call Dr Matthews, he needs to know about your condition."

"All right, sorry. I just hate being examined, it's embarrassing."

"Trust me, you ain't got nothing to be embarrassed about. Oh honestly Dean don't look at me like that, it's not what I meant." Dean giggled at his own immaturity and Sam rolled his eyes. Charles went through the usual check-up routine, and then paged Dr Matthews. "Wow, I am impressed. You have improved a lot, even since the last check-up. "

"You rang?" Dr Matthews called from the door.

"Enough with the lurch jokes man. Anyway Sam here is awake. And he's looking good. Health wise." The last part was in response to a suggestive glare from Dean.

"Don't take any notice of Dean, Charles. He only teases people he likes."

"You should get sick more often Sam, you are getting funny!" Dean laughed at his brother, who laughed in return, along with a bit of coughing and spluttering.

"Here, you need to drink some water. You sure you ain't gonna puke it back up?" Dean filled up a glass with the jug of water he'd been drinking (beer is out of the question when caring for Sam) and helped Sam take a few sips.

"I don't feel sick. I actually feel hungry."

"Can he eat doc? It'll have to be one of those girly salads, he don't eat real food."

"We have to take it slowly Sam. You haven't eaten in a while, for obvious reasons, and the body needs to get used to food again. You eat too much and Dean's gonna lose another shirt. For the record Dean, salad is Sam's best option. It's light and healthy. You should take after Sam's example Dean, or you'll be obese by the time you're thirty-five. You wouldn't be able to hunt in that state."

"Err, hunt? Don't you mean, work?" Dean eyed Charles, not wanting to give away their secret.

"Relax Dean, Charles is very familiar with hunting; and you boys are particularly famous in that department. Anyway, enough chit chat. I need to take a look at you Sam."

"Splendid, more prodding." Dr Matthews ignored more of Sam's sarcasm and proceeded with his examinations. He then spoke quietly with Charles and both men shook their heads in disbelief.

"I don't believe it Sam. Your vitals are excellent, and your breathing is normal. Someone with severe sepsis should not be doing this well in such as short space of time. Especially seeing as you were in a coma-like state less than 24 hours ago. It's nothing short of remarkable. I'd like to take some more blood if I may, I'm anxious to see if the bacteria is still in your blood."

"Um, sure. I guess. How is this possible?"

"Beats me son. I guess anything is possible in medicine. I would be have tempted to write a journal about you, but sadly it would involve a lot more poking and prodding from other medical professionals, and I know you want to stay out of the lime light." Dr Matthews quickly took some more blood from Sam and sent Charles to the lab. "Would you like a little privacy for a while? I think you can avoid medical supervision for a while."

"Yeah, thanks a lot." Sam was incredibly confused. He had in fact been aware of his surroundings before he could move his hand and he had been listening intently to the doctors and nurses. On the rare occasion that Dean left the room, they were able to be more frank with Bobby about Sam's condition, and they didn't hold out much hope for him, particularly since his cardiac arrest. Most feigned optimism in order to keep Dean sane. He was near to a complete breakdown, and voicing any concerns may have sent him over the edge, which is hardly what a busy hospital needed. Sam was thankful for that. His heart nearly broke at Dean's confession. He never realised how much he truly meant to Dean. Why the idiot hadn't told him this before he had no idea. Yeah Sam, like you were about to do the same to Dean? Too much of a chick-flick moment for a conscious Winchester. Sam chuckled at himself.

"You wanna let me in on that joke?" Dean again.

"I just finding it funny that in order for us to have any sort of heart to heart, one brother has to be unconscious. We are pretty lame."

"Ha, yeah. We are screwed up; does this mean we have to have them when we are both fully conscious now?"

"Yup. Don't worry, I'll let you run out, drink and have sex with as many girls as you like to satisfy your masculine ego. Honestly, a feminine side is nothing to be ashamed of. Girls dig that. Jess certainly did…" Sam sadly stared off into the distance as he thought of his love.

"You still miss her a lot, don't you?"

"Every damn day. I know demons lie, but yellow-eyes was being honest when he said I planned to marry her. I guess searching for a normal life was probably the dumbest thing I have ever done. All I did was get a sweet, innocent girl killed; she was way better off never knowing me." Sam's eyes started to fill up, but he quickly regained his composure.

Dean placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't talk like that Sam. She loved you, I could see that in her eyes the one time I met her. I bet you, if there is a heaven, and she's up there looking down on you, I know she wouldn't regret being with you. Quit beating yourself up about what happened, it wasn't your fault. You hear me?"

"Tell you what. I'll stop blaming myself for Jessica's death if you stop blaming yourself for dad's death." Dean didn't say anything. "Exactly. Face it Dean, you and I are gonna take the blame for the deaths of everyone we love. I can deal with it if I know you don't blame me. And I don't blame you. Just one favour though – if you want to make me angry and upset in the future, please don't repeat your actions from before."

"I swear to it Sam. Do we, like, have to hug now?" Sam playfully punched his brother, and much to his surprise, Dean actually hugged him. The action told Sam many things – I'm glad you're Ok; I'm sorry for everything; I love you. Sam returned the embrace, making sure Dean knew how he felt too.

"Well this has gotten really awkward for me. I wasn't gonna say nothing before but…. I wish you had told me you needed a private moment and I would have left –"

"Bobby, shut the Hell up and join the love in!" Dean yelled, and motioned the old hunter to join them. That was Dean's way of thanking him for being there, and for being like a father to both of them. Bobby didn't refuse.


Sam didn't fall asleep that night. His brother and Bobby were practically passed out on the hospital chairs that they had inhabited for over a week, but Sam couldn't. He wasn't afraid of the nightmares though. He just couldn't understand why he was Ok. He was grateful of course, but it made no sense. Sam was no doctor, but being a hunter meant knowing basic first aid, which highlighted the importance of disinfecting wounds. Out of curiosity, he had research sepsis, and knew he shouldn't have recovered this quickly. Some patients are sick for weeks, and can still die even up to six months later. So how has he made a complete recovery in a matter of days? He wondered if it was in any way related to his abilities. Are all psychics like him? This would be something he had to research; but he would do this alone. Dean was going through enough without having to face even more problems related to his psychic powers. So he let him rest. He refused to let Dean die for him, no matter what.


Three days later and Sam was released from hospital. Remarkably, his blood was now free of all infection and his side had almost completely healed. Sam could have danced with joy at being back at Bobby's – his home as far as he was concerned. He inhaled vigorously.

"Ah! That smells so good! No more antiseptic!"

"I think you're still sick Sam! No one in their right mind could think this place smells good – OW! I'm just kidding Bobby!"

"You need to learn some respect when you are in my property. And that includes showing respect TO my property."

Sam laughed at the two bickering men. "You know, I don't know why that Charles guy hung around, you two are far too stressful to be around. He's a good guy. I hope we keep in touch."

"You mean you didn't get his number?"

"Haha Dean, that whole 'Charles and I being in love' lark is just getting old. You need some new material."

"Hey I'm the funniest man here! In all seriousness though, he is a good guy. He says that he and his big brother are a lot like you and me. Never met the brother so I can't really say, but he is a clever clogs goody-two shoes just like you. And the prejudice he faces being a male nurse doesn't bother him. Not like anyone should care about anyone's sexual orientation."

"Wow, that's deep for you Dean, I'm impressed!"

"Shut up. Bitch."


"Eejits." Bobby joined in.

"Old git!" Both men cried in unison. "Jinx!" Dean pointed at Sam and ran around like a lunatic, with a bemused little brother laughing and shaking his head.

Those boys are gonna be the death of me… Bobby thought, but glad that the two boys were talking again and could start their lives afresh. Sure, they had a long way to go, but they would be all right. As long as they had each other, they'd be Ok.


"I don't get it sire. You had the Winchester boy within easy reach, yet you have let him go again." A young man with black eyes was talking to an older man, outside Bobby Singer's scrap metal yard. "In fact, we could just go in there and take him."

"With the salt lines and devil traps in there? I may be all right, but you're my son and I ain't getting you killed." The older man gazed lovingly at the younger, yellow eyes gleaming in the sunlight. "Besides, I need Sam to be at the final showdown in Cold Oak. I'll only take him before that if he comes willingly."

"He won't do that, not with Dean Winchester around. You could just kill him – I mean, you have the Colt now. He can't harm you."

"A deal is a deal. I was not to harm Dean in exchange for John Winchester's soul. I may be a liar, a cheat, and a killer, but I am a man of my word. Even to that piece of crap. Lilith would send me back to Hell quicker than you could say Christo."

The young man cringed and hissed at the name. "Oh I'm sorry, I forget how that word affects… lesser demons."

"It's Ok. You know, I'm curious. How did Sam get better so quickly? Did you cure him? I never saw you go in there…"

"My my, you really are young. Don't underestimate the power of ancient demon blood. It has rather curious healing powers. I fed blood to him as a baby, and now it flows readily through his veins. No mortal disease could kill him that easily. Weapons yes, disease… not so much. It's hard to explain; it only works in some individuals. It just highlights to me how powerful our young Winchester is. The perfect vessel for Lucifer. I truly have made an excellent choice. I cannot wait for our destinies to be fulfilled."