This is a very short add on to the shadow stalker series. i dont now how long it will be at this point, but the chapters are very short.

this was written as a b-day present for laineyau. and it basically deals with the boys lives after the Asura.

AND OVER AGAIN

Chapter 1

Dean bit his lip, his knee seizing up once more as he crept around the old warehouse. The hunt had started out as a simple salt and burn, something the young hunter could have done in his sleep. But well, life wasn't really on his side anymore, not after the past year. He wasn't nearly as healthy as he had been a few years before, his damaged body fighting him at every turn, slowing him down more and more with each passing day. The brace he had tried so hard to throw in the garbage was now something he had to wear everyday, his once shattered knee no longer able to support itself.

He smirked, ducking as a paint can flew his way. Sam had actually tried to see if they could swindle a knee replacement out of the kind people at so and so general hospital. Dean had to have been the youngest person there by a good twenty years, and he couldn't help but feel like a sore thumb. Needless to say, the hospital hadn't been all that willing to dole out surgery, especially to a guy named after a long dead rock singer.

But well, Sammy had tried, and for that Dean was grateful. After everything that happened, everything he had almost lost, the simple fact that his once wayward family was now standing beside him was more than he could ask for. He had been so afraid of losing them, so worried about disappointing them, that he had let it consume him body and soul. And he had paid a dear price in the end. Sam still hadn't managed to control his growing abilities, his mind lashing out at the drop of a hat, the force so powerful that it had knocked Dean clear across the room more than once.

But it wasn't his little brother's fault, and he told the younger man that every time his temper flared. The other trait he had developed was a little less welcome. Sam could sense him, zero in on him, and at times, astral-project to where he was. Giving him a near heart attack on more than one occasion. Dean's end of the deal, though, well that was something he hadn't quite figured out yet. He hadn't let his emotions get as out of control as he had right after the Asura, but, every once in a while, he would slip, and then things would happen.

Sam had even come back from getting dinner to find every mirror in their dingy room shattered, Dean standing, stunned in the center of the room, shell shocked at the destruction he had managed with in no less than thirty seconds. He had fallen, plain and simple, but the pain radiating through his leg had made it nearly impossible for him to gain his footing again, and the idea of sitting on the smelly floor to wait for help was more then the weathered man could face.

But, other then that, his life was better then it had been in years. After all, he had his father and brother back. But, even that didn't last forever. John and Sam had gotten in a shouting match no more than four days after the Traters, and the senior Winchester had left on a hunt a mere week later. But at least this time he didn't just disappear. He dropped by when he could, sending messages when he couldn't. It was a far cry from the promise he had made to his eldest, but hell, it was better than what they had before. And Dean knew to take what he could get when he could. Because he never knew when his number would be up.

He quickly ducked a bit lower, a well aimed hammer hitting the spot his head had been resting on mere seconds before. He had to admit, he was really getting pissed off at this spirit. Not only was it throwing hammers at him, it had also managed to dump a very full can of very lime green pain on him, making him look like a gimpy version of the incredible hulk. He shook the idea from his mind, pushing himself up on shaky legs as he checked out the area.

"Dig faster, Sammy." Dean mumbled under his voice, scanning the large room. The spirit seemed to have taken a break from hurling things at him and he only hoped the thing hadn't figured out what his little brother was up to.

Sam was out digging the grave, something Dean could no longer do, not that he would ever admit that. In all reality, Dean should have quite hunting months before. His body just couldn't handle it anymore. It had become completely impossible for him to straighten his right leg, his knee permanently locked at an odd angle. Even when he laid down, he still couldn't stretch it out without the overwhelming urge to just chop it off and be done with it. But, on the bright side, he always knew when it was going to rain.

He snuck around the corner of the machinery he had been hiding behind, shotgun ready, keen eyes taking in everything around him. He fought off the pain that shook his body with each and every step he took, the stubborn man refusing to admit defeat, even to himself. He had been forced to rely on crutches to walk, and so, he spent most of the time sitting around, ordering his little brother around. He knew he shouldn't let Sam wallow in his own guilt, knew he shouldn't let the kid wait on him hand and foot, but well, he was a big brother, and so, it was really ok.

But, despite himself, Dean had grown used to the crutches, and he couldn't help but feel proud. Yeah, they were limiting, and yeah, it was a constant reminder that he was broken beyond repair, but it was also a testament to his achievements. When he had first been brought to the hospital nearly a year before, he had been told that he would never be able to walk again. The doctor had painstakingly repaired the knee to the best of his abilities, but well, Dean's knee cap had been shattered, and there was only so much a human being could do. But now he could walk and, with the help of his crutches, he could keep up with his long legged little brother. Besides, chicks digged the danger vibe.

Dean continued to skirt the parameter of the room as quietly as he could. The spirit had been so active just a few minuted before and now nothing. But the elder brother knew not to let his guard down until he had been given the signal. He had fallen for Casper's little tricks before and he wasn't about to let it get the better of him again. Almost as though the thing were reading his mind, the attack began again. Dean ducked with only seconds to spare as the blade of a circular saw embedded itself in the wall, exactly where his head had been.

"Son of a bitch." Dean breathed, pulling himself along the floor.

But, just as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, just as he heard the tell tail sound of metal sliding against metal, a scream broke through the heavy air. Dean turned the corner, his curiosity getting the better of him. He knew he should still be taking cover, knew that he couldn't move fast enough to get out of the way if the thing was planning another attack. But well, he was Dean, and really, that was all there was to it. However, instead of seeing another saw blade poised and ready, he watched as the spirit before him began to melt away, disappearing into a puddle of black goo. Seconds later, his phone rang.

"About damn time." He shouted, leaning back against the wall. "What'd you do, take a nap."

"I take it it's gone." Sam's level voice came floating through the phone.

"Yes, it's gone. But only after it through a freaking workbench worth of crap at me."

"Are you ok?" Sam's voice shook a bit on the line, Dean instantly regretting the remark when he felt the air around him begin to grow, a wind blowing from nowhere.

Even at a distance he could still feel the powers that his little brother possessed. And it was dangerous. Sam didn't know what was around Dean, didn't know that the winds he was producing could very easily launch more tools at his brother. No, all he knew was that Dean could be hurt, that he hadn't been fast enough to stop something from happening. And that caused him to lose control every time.

"Listen, Sammy, I'm fine." Dean began, trying to stop the growing torrents around him, all the while seeking shelter. Just in case.

"Dean. Tell me the truth."

"I am, I'm alright. Just knock it off with the Carrie crap, ok."

"What? Did it start there again?"

"Oh yeah, a hurricane's a blowing over here. Just calm down, dude, I'm fine."

"Damn it, I hate this, Dean."

"Well, take a midol and some chocolate."

"Very funny, Jerk." Sam sighed, the winds slowly dying down.

"Bitch." Dean smiled. Even though moments like this were more common then the elder Winchester would have liked, they had both gotten better at controlling it. Hell, a few weeks before Sam had been near comatose when a car nearly killed a slow moving Dean. And he was in the crosswalk!

No, their lives were different now, there was no denying that, the Asura having left an imprint on the boys that no one could ignore. But, when all was said and done they were still Sam and Dean, still Winchesters, and they knew nothing would be able to change that.