Rating: Mature

Summary/Prompt: Ramblings of a muse during winter Hellatus [insert dramatic sigh here] Jan. 28th just can't come fast enough for me!

Warnings/Spoilers: None really unless you haven't stayed somewhat current with Season 6, then I say shame on you /wink

Word Count: Incomplete as yet, will update later

A/N: To be honest I don't know where this taking me, just something that I started writing and it sounds good so far.

A/N: Did you know, Requiem (which I thought was just another cool name for Anime shows) means "A mass said or sung for the repose of a departed soul". I have a partial idea of how that will relate to this story but honestly .. It just sounded like a really cool title.

Please review and give feedback and I'm very excited to hear back on any criticism or advice or just comments in general. Thank you! RivikaStyx

I do not own Supernatural, the Winchesters, Castiel, Bobby or any another "cast member" from the TV Show that may creep in to my stories from time to time, but if I did I'd give them cookies every day!

Requiem for Hell

In a small room in Detroit, there is a wall with a black stain that no amount of paint will cover. And in a small cemetery, just outside of Lawrence, Kansas there is a marker sitting in mud, where no grass grows, and puddles of water still sit in the ruts made by a large,heavy car. The wind blowing through the tree tops, creating an airy noise, was the first thing that the lone figure noticed, the second being the name carved hastily into the block marker. Empty liquor bottles and beer can's lay around in disarray, old by the looks of the ground and decay covering them, and a broken set of rosary beads half wrapped around it were the only signs that anyone actually knew what universal event had occurred here and the sacrifice that had been made for all humankind.

But the figure knew, as it squatted on the ground and fingered the rosary beads, looking up at the dark swirling storm clouds above. A deep, sad, soulful sigh, heaved small shoulders as a delicate black gloved hand tucked a stray lock of jet black hair back underneath the hood of its thin coat. Shivering slightly, it reached out and touched the marker with the rosary clenched tightly in its grasp. A small gasp, a vision of a musty room, thin cot, lots of metal and pain, and the figure straightened. Looking once again at the rosary in the palm of its hand, the hooded figure clenched its fist and made a frustrated sound.

Dean gasped, eye's flaring open, and came up off Bobby's couch, arms flailing. Bobby jumped, slamming his coffee cup on the desk.

"God bless it son, you scared the shit outa me!" Dean looked over at Bobby, a wild eye'd look on his face.

"Dean, you all right?" Bobby asked concerned.

"Dude, I'd swear someone just walked over my grave ..." Dean's voice died out as he ran a hand over his face to erase the strange feeling he'd just had. In his mind's eye he could still see the cemetery and a dark figure squatting in mud. He'd never forget that cemetery, it was Stulls, and it was the exact spot Sam had jumped into the pit.

"I should go check on Sam, see if there's any change." Bobby shook his head.

"No need, I just came from there and he's still unconscious." Dean sighed.

"Dammit," he said, looking towards the ceiling, "this was supposed to work. What the fuck is taking so long?" Bobby shrugged and came around the desk. He laid one hand on Dean's shoulder before walking into the kitchen and fetching more coffee. Dean sat on the couch and absently watched the older man, with hands on his chin prayer like style, and sighed heavily again.

"Not like Death would go to all that trouble to pull Sam's soul from hell just to pretend he put his soul back in Dean. Give it time. The boy hasn't slept for over a year, maybe his body is just catching up on some needed down time." Dean nodded. Bobby had told him that over and over again till he was sick of hearing it. Sam had his soul back, a wall up in his head, and still hadn't woke up and it'd been two days now. Dean was about to contact that wacky doctor again, though everything in him told him to just wait it out.

Therefore, him and Bobby had spent the last 48hrs going over what they knew about the lost souls. Which wasn't much. In addition, compiling notes they had on the bizarre monster behavior, which both determined stemmed from the fall out of the apocalypse. Bobby put all that and his notes about purgatory into what seemed to be a very thin folder that Dean had spent hours looking at, but not caring a single thing about. Right now his world revolved around the breathing pattern of his younger brother.

"I'm going to check in on Sam anyway." Bobby nodded and watched the older Winchester head down the basement stairs.

"Hey Sam, I don't know if you can hear me man, but I sure would appreciate it if you would give me one sign that you're in their little brother."

Dean started all his conversations with Sam off the same way the last few times he'd been down here to check on him. Him and Bobby decided to keep him handcuffed to the cot just in case things went south when he woke up, though Dean had a bad taste in his mouth every time he saw the bruises on his brothers wrist. After a while of silence, Dean left the panic room and wandered back upstairs. He was deep in thought when he got back to the living room and saw Bobby looking out the window, a bottle of holy water in one hand and the other hand holding down the blinds so he spy on the person walking onto the front porch.

Dean frowned at the bottle. "Bobby?" Dean asked pointedly. Bobby shrugged and put it down.

"She walked through the devil's trap," he stated looking back out the window, "we'll see if she crosses the ... yep she's human." He stated with a grumble and went to the door. A soft knock and a gruff answer from Bobby was all Dean could make out as he moved towards the hall to pear at the woman at the door.

Dark sunglasses hid most of her face, but Dean could tell she was young and very pretty. Bobby's hand was on the door knob, his body language obviously telling her to leave, but she either ignored him or was very stupid.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I realize this may seem strange," her softly accented voice said,"but I've come along way to find someone and I hope you can help me." Dean angled his head just enough to see her shift something to her left wrist and reach a black gloved hand inside her jacket. He eased the saftey on his pistol, and held the gun down, and just behind his back, noticing Bobby's shotgun was at the ready behind the door as well. But the stranger simply produced a set of beads and held them up for Bobby to inspect.

"Beads ... I don't ... " Bobby started to say then stopped abruptly, turning towards Dean, who had moved like lightening towards to door.

"Where the hell did you get those!" He yelled angrily.

"You know those beads Dean?" Bobby asked incredulously, knowing Dean had never been much of a believer and never held a set of rosary beads in high regards other than blessing water.

Dean nodded, glancing at Bobby a brief moment, then back at the woman. "Yeah, I left them at certain cemetery." Bobby's eyes widened and suddenly the shotgun came up just as Dean's pistol, neither having an effect on the stranger at all.

"Yes, Stulls I believe. I wished to deliver them back to Sam. He is here now isn't he?" She asked cocking her head to the side, gloved hand still extended with the rosary beads dangling from them. Both men exchanged troubled looks.

"What are you? Demon?" Dean asked. Bobby shook his head. "Could be Bella back with that accent - You sure?"

"Can't be, she walked right over the damn devils trap Dean." Both glanced down to ensure the salt was still in place around the threshold of the door. The woman frowned slightly and the hand finaly wavered before she dropped it down to her side.

"I'm sorry, perhaps I've gotten the address wrong. I'm looking for a Mr. Bobby Singer's residence. He has a houseguest that I'm interested in speaking with, I believe he needs my help with a particular head injury. If this is the wrong address would you kindly direct me to the correct one? And perhaps allow me to use your telephone? My cab driver was certain this was the correct place and has already left."

Perplexed the men looked at each other in stunned silence. Bobby slowly waved the tip of the shotgun in front to the screen window near the woman's face.

"You're blind." He stated flatly. Soft, pink lips formed a delicate grimace.

"Yes, a bit inconvenient at times," She held up her retractable cane in a kind of salute then returned the strap around her wrist and continued on, "but I manage to get by just fine. Now about that address and phone number?" Her voice trailed off expectantly. Both men immediately, albeit quietly, returned their weapons and Bobby opened the door.

"I'm sorry to come off as rude Miss. I'm Bobby and this here is Dean, my .. uh .. house guests brother. Please come inside." At the mention of Dean's name a relieved look crossed her face.

"I'm so glad I caught you here Dean. My name is Nikki Lee, by the way. Oh and Bobby you really need to get the coffee, its burning." Nikki extended her pole and began tapping her way down the hallway and into the living room. She managed to find the couch without help and sat down calmly. Meanwhile Bobby ran off to the kitchen to turn the coffee pot off just as smoke from the burner told him the coffee was indeed fixing to burn. He stepped out of the kitchen and gave Dean a telling look.

"So, you're a psychic?" She nodded.

"Something along those lines. I don't speak to dead people like Jennifer Love-Hewitt does though. I mostly get images in my head, visions, and without the use of tools. I can also read minds if the projections are strong enough and I am a natural healer. Is Sam still down in the metal room?" She asked calmly, rubbing her gloved hands on her jeans.

"Uh, listen, Nikki Lee, I don't know you and I'm not sure about you going anywhere near my brother right now ... he's um ... not up to taking any visitor's yet." Nikki frowned and dipped her head, her sunglasses dipping down on her nose enough for Dean to glimpse solid white orb's framed by thick eye lashes. He quickly glanced at Bobby, who was looking at her frowning as well, and then back to Nikki, who was shaking her head.

"But the man told me that by the time I arrived your brother would be awake and needing my help." She stated confused.

Rocking back at the mention of a man Dean's frown deepened to a scowl. "What man told you this Nikki?" He asked, motioning for Bobby to go around and double the check the perimeter of the house.

"He was an older gentleman, very polite, frail almost, with cold hands and smelled of pizza. He told me that Sam Winchester would need my abilities and that I needed to come here. He requested that I take off my gloves and shake his hand, which I rarely do but something about him seemed almost commanding, so I did it and when I touched his hand I was bombarded with images of a tall man, very handsome, in agonizing pain, and other images of another man, smaller a bit, handsome as well, obviously brother's, and there were gun's and blood, and so much pain ... "she trailed off for a moment in a daze of sorts, then lifting her head and pushing her sunglasses back up she continued, "when he let go of my hand he was gone. I know how strange that sounds but if you are who I think you are, you'll believe me. Am I right Dean? You do know who the man was?" She questioned. Bobby had returned to the room and was listening to her story. At the mention of the man he looked to Dean with a surprised look and mouthed "Death?" to him. Dean nodded.

"Yes I know who the man was, and if he sent you here then you may be exactly what my brother needs."

Very gently Dean escorted Nikki down the stairs and to Sam's cot, where to his dismay, he saw signs that Sam had been trying to come awake. Chaos ensued as Bobby immediately rushed to unlock the handcuff's and Dean gripped Sam's shoulder's and begging his brother to wake up. Nikki quietly stayed to the back and out of the way, waiting patiently for the din of noise to die down. Quietly she said "Dean, let me try ..." and Dean, almost forgetting her presence in an effort to get Sam to fully wake up, took her hand and guided her to Sam's cot. She knelt down and smoothed Sam's brow, murmuring low to him that it was time to wake up and rejoin the world again.

Sam came slowly to his senses feeling a warm hand on his forehead. He blinked once, twice, then opened his eyes to the darkened interior of the panic room he knew by heart. It took a moment for his sight to catch up with his mind, then with eye's wide open, he inhaled a painful ragged breath.

"Chest .. feels like .. a bomb .. Ugh!" he said in a gravely, hoarse voice, his eye's finaly focusing enough on the person in front of him.

"I'm sure it does Sam, but how does your head feel right now?" Sam frowned at the woman in the sunglasses hovering over him. Somehow he felt as if it was the most normal thing in the world for her to be holding his hand and stroking his brow. He looked up at her for a second and then closed his eyes again.

"Hurts .. " he croaked, "Where's D'n?" Dean immediately came forward, Nikki moving to squat at the end of the cot, still keeping her hands on Sam's temples, massaging gently.

"Right here Sam." Sam opened his eyes as Dean's face came into focus. Dean stared intently for a moment deep into Sam's mournful gaze.

"You back in there Sam?" Dean asked gruffly. Tears welled in Sam's eyes.

"D'n, 'm so ... " he started but couldn't finish, a small gasp from Nikki who immediately spread her fingers over Sam's scalp, her brow knitting in a painful knot.

"Enough," she barked, "Sam needs rest. He's been through enough and doesn't need to be upset. There's a healing process, Sam, not just for you but for all involved." She rose from her knees and accepted Bobby's offered arm.

"We need to get him into a room and a regular bed where he will be more comfortable Bobby. " Bobby glanced at Sam one last time then guided Nikki back upstairs.

Dean, still kneeling on the ground next to Sam's cot, sighed deeply. Sam opened his eyes and through his haze of pain managed enough energy to nudge Dean's arm with his wrist. Dean's head came up and he looked at his brother for the first time in over a year, an overwhelming sense of gratitude welling tears in his own eyes. Taking Sam's hand, he smiled a watery smile, Sam answering with his own.

"I know man, m'jus so fucking glad your back. You, without a soul, are one huge douche bag, ya know it?" Him and Sam chuckled, until Sam's body tightened up in pain, Dean immediately kicking in to protective mode.

"Seriously .. should'a .. moved me .. while I was out .. would'a .. hurt alot less .. " he said in between ragged breaths and trying to shift in a way that would allow him more breathing space. But the cot was smaller than he was and barely contained his wide shoulders, his feet hanging off the end by several feet.

"Whose ... the woman ... wi .. with ... tha .. m'ag .. ic .. fingers?" he gasped out.

Dean sighed, and managed to maneuver his arm under Sam's shoulder and gently help him sit up on the cot. Pain arced all throughout Sam's body, and the world tilted wickedly causing his stomach to roll and for a brief second he thought he was going to be sick. Dean paused, noticing Sam's clenched jaw and rigid body, instantly alerting him that Sam was definitely going to throw up. He quickly reached for the bucket in enough time for Sam to dry heave into it. Sam leaned his head heavily back against the cold metal wall and sighed. Dean sat beside him still holding the bucket, Sam's arms hung limply at his sides as his head drooped towards Dean's shoulder.

"Feel like shit right?" Sam weakly nodded.

"So, I don't know how much you remember, and I don't know how much you need to remember, now or ever. But the girl's name is Nikki Lee and she's been sent here to help you by someone I, more or less, trust. She's definitely easy on the eyes huh?" He chuckled to himself as he realized that Sam had passed out.

Great, how the hell am I going to get him up those damn stairs?

"Hello Dean." Dean nearly jumped out of his hide, the heavily accented voice of Death being the very LAST being he wanted to hear right now.

"Um ... yeah." Dean grimaced, remembering the bucket of bile he was currently holding and hoping Death wouldn't be offended or some such stupid thing and take Sam's soul back.

"Trust me, I've seen worse bodily fluids before. How is he?" Death's deadpan eyes raked over Sam's unconscious form before looking Dean dead on. Dean shivered and tried his best to get the bucket to the floor without toppling Sam over in the process. Death gently took the bucket from Dean's hands and sat down on the other side of the cot next to Sam, depositing the bucket on the floor next to him. This decidedly made Dean very uncomfortable.

"Well, he just woke up, not sure if your friend Nikki ... " Death cocked his head and nodded.

"Excellent she found her way here."

"Yeah, so why?" Dean kept nervously looking at Sam through the corner of his eye and then back over to Death.

"I would think that would be obvious Dean. Her qualifications included everything that would be needed: Natural healing abilities, she's a very strong psychic, excellent ability to send and receive projected images or feelings. Combined with her innocent, young, and attractive good looks I felt she would be the perfect choice for a nurse of sorts. Do you approve of my choice Dean?" Death leaned forward on his cane and looked directly at Dean, who nodded immediately.

"Absolutely, does she give sponge baths?" He snickered, earning him a "bitchface" from Death, which he quickly decided looked better on Sam. Clearing his throat, he went stone still and put a protective arm in front of Sam as Death rose from the cot.

"Once Sam has had time to recuperate I assume you will continue your search for the lost souls?" Dean nodded, serious this time.

"I've already been working on it, though I don't have much to go on. I assume you'll know if I find something you need to know about?" Death nodded his head. Dean relaxed a bit and shouldered Sam, who hadn't budged once during their conversation. Dean hesitated then looked back at Death.

"Umm .. I don't suppose ... " Death sighed dramatically and next thing Dean knew him and Sam were upstairs in one of Bobby's extra rooms. Bobby gave Dean a startled look then rushed forward to help ease the unconscious Sam down on the bed. He looked out from under Sam's arm at Dean, a question in his eyes.

"A mutual friend popped in to check on Sam." Dean grunted as he eased Sam back against the pillows. Bobby frowned.

"Cas?"

"An OLD mutual friend, VERY old." Bobby's eyes widened again and he mouthed "Death? Again? Here?" Dean nodded, exhaustion clearly wrote on his face.

"Bobby, listen, we may need to crash here for a while. You have another bedroom or something that .. " Nikki's cane announced her presence as she walked into the room and deposited a bag on the dresser next to the door, interrupting Dean.

"I'll be rooming with Sam for the time being Dean. Bobby has another room set up across the hall from here for you to stay in." Bobby's cheeks reddened a bit, and Dean glanced from him to Nikki.

"Uhhhh ... " Nikki laughed.

"It's perfectly innocent. I can't see Sam, but I can hear him, therefore it will be much easier if I stay in the same room with him and don't have to stumble my way around to find him. You and Bobby can bring the cot up from the basement and put it in here and I can sleep on that. Luckily this room has all the amenities in it, which I am grateful for that, since the only other unoccupied room with a full bath is upstairs." Dean glanced at Bobby who shrugged.

"She's good, I didn't get around to showing her the layout of the house yet. Which I promise to do in the morning."

Dean frowned at the thought of her having to sleep on the cot. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have my room across the hall? That cot has seen it's better days trust me."

She smiled softly and removed her glasses, finaly giving both men a full view of her face and eye's. She was strikingly beautiful as Death had said, but upon closer examination Dean noticed two things: the pupils of her eyes were colorless and there were fine white scars, some deeper than others, around her eyebrow's and cheek bones and going from the corner's of her eye's and extending into her hair line. She methodically placed everything on the dresser in a certain order and opened her small duffel bag, which seemed uncommonly empty for a woman Dean mused, knowing that Lisa always left the house with a purse that held more items than Nikki's little bag. Bobby uncomfortably cleared his throat, noticing Dean's stare, and Dean shuffled his feet, turning at Bobby's distraction and realizing that was his cue that meant "We need to talk".

"Ok, so umm, Sam looks like he's going to be out the rest of the night, we'll go get that cot for you then." Nikki nodded absentmindedly as she removed a toothbrush and toothpaste from a plastic ziplock baggy, a brush, one bottle of water, and two books from her bag.

Downstairs Bobby and Dean grabbed the cot from the panic room and some extra blankets and pillows. They maneuvered the bed upstairs and put it exactly in the location that would be best for Nikki to get around easily. After checking on Sam one last time, and a stern lecture from Nikki about not waking Sam up to soon, the three left the room and headed to the kitchen. Bobby warmed up the now cold, and somewhat burnt coffee and offered Dean a beer. Nikki declined, brandishing her bottled water with polite smile.

"So, go ahead, ask away."

"First things first, is Sam unconscious again or just sleeping soundly?" Dean asked, no one needing to twist his arm.

"I suppose a bit of both. I put him in a deeper sleep. The human body isn't wired to go so long without sleep ... and due to his recent ... traumatic event ... he needs to give his heart and his mind a good rest." Bobby drew in a deep breath.

"Is there something else wrong with his body, some side affect?" Nikki shook her head.

"Not that I can tell, though his heart is a bit stressed, which I don't know if it's from lack of down time that sleep gives it or just the events of recent ... activity." Dean sighed.

"Ok, so that leads me to my next question: How much did the "man" tell you about me and Sam and his "event"." Nikki shifted in her chair, her gloved hands toying with her water bottle.

"More than maybe you would feel comfortable with."

"How much more?" He pushed.

"You're hunters, you go after supernatural beings, you have an Arch Angel as a friend who comes to you from time to time, Sam was imprisoned with Lucifer and Michael in order to save the world from the apocalypse which, in my opinion, was NOT started by him but which he blames solely himself for, you both actually have been to hell and quite literally, and you really need to call Lisa because she misses you as much as you miss her and simply needs to UNDERSTAND what's going on." Dean inhaled a calming breath, no one knew that much about him and Sam except Bobby, well a few other hunter's but once he caught the trail of Walt and Roy he'd fix that, but that last comment about Lisa was one he would let go for now.

"Oh, that man was Death, who is definitely not what I expected and yet so much more than I expected if you understand my meaning." Bobby stood and quietly opened the cabinet under the sink and brought out his special brew and poured two rounds, one for him and one for Dean. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand down his face.

Bobby shot Dean a look before saying "Ok, that's more than what we expected and fairly accurate, I think."

"So, why do you think the apocalypse wasn't started by Sam?" Dean asked curiously.

"Obviously Zachariah was more instrumental and you, Sam, Bobby, and Castiel were the pawns. Hell had what you call "player's" as well but from what I gleaned from Death, if anyone was to blame I would put Zachariah on trail for it." Dean approved of Nikki in that instant, and he smiled at Bobby who shook his head.

"Can't find any fault in that thinking. So what's your story? Most people would be running for the hills once they found out all that."

"My story is brief, but tragic nonetheless. I grew up just outside of England. My parents took a job here in the states at a University were they studied ancient languages and history. When I was 8yrs old my abilities began showing themselves to be rather strong. On my way home from school I had an image of a car accident involving a classmate. I stopped it, but there was a man there, he came to me and asked me how I knew to stop it. I couldn't talk because he was so incredibly bright. I asked him to turn down his angel light and it made him mad. He grabbed my wrist and instantly froze in place. He scared me so I ran home. Later that night, he came looking for me, but not before he found my parents first." Dean stared at her in shock.

"Touching you froze an angel?" Nikki nodded. Bobby poured him and Dean another shot, eye's wide and shaking his head.

"New one on me Dean." Bobby stated and downed his shot.

"Anyway, that was the night I lost my sight. They thought my powers were connected to visibly being able to view the person to paralyze them. They weren't, but by the time they figured that out I was able to grab at both of them. With both out of commission I ran to a neighbor's house and seeing my condition they called the police and ambulance and I was taken away. I don't know why they never searched for me again, until I spoke with Death a few days ago. I am what he called a "Null". I can paralyze anything, celestial or demonic, with a simple touch. Witches, warlocks, there is no supernatural being out there that I can't touch and paralyze, with the exception of Death of course. Him I have no affect on. We tested it."

"Nikki that's incredible. And lethal at the same time, for you. I don't understand how you've stayed alive with that kind of power. I've seen them kill for lesser reasons." Dean stated.

Nikki nodded, "I know, Death said that he was brought to me by a reaper because of my untimely death. He further told me that, at that particular time, there had already been many that he'd had to clean up and that he knew that one day I would be able to restore order to the unnatural flow in the universe that Heaven had started. He brought me back, wiped my memory of my death, and protected me like you and Sam, with runes on my rib cage. He said that he did all that so that I could eventually get here to you and Sam, which is exactly where I was meant to end up. I've encountered many things, Dean Winchester, but I tell you that up until a few days ago I had been wandering on my own for many years, living off my disability payments, and going to the places that I see in my visions. Helping people when they need it. I can see souls Dean, and I know that you will need my help finding the ones that are being taken. I also know that I can help your Angel, Castiel, with his problem too. Because the same Angel that took my sight is the same Angel that wants to take over Heaven and send Sam back to Hell." She yawned, exhausted from the day's events, and stood. Bobby and Dean stood as well and Dean moved around the table and offered Nikki his arm.

"I promise I'll take good care of Sam, Dean. And you never know, I may even be able to help you as well, if you'd allow me." She smiled softly up at him and Dean felt a slight squeeze around his heart as her warm gloved hand lightly grasped his arm near his elbow.

"Just fix Sam and keep his head from exploding and I'll be fine." Nikki chuckled.

"He was right, you really are hard headed." Bobby chuckled behind them, and Dean shot him a glare.

"Who was right? Bobby? What have you been telling her?" Dean asked outraged. Bobby shook his head.

"Wasn't me, though you are as stubborn as your Daddy." At the door to Sam's room Nikki stopped.

"Death, Dean. He said that you would balk at my offer to help you as well as Sam but that eventually I would win out." She winked at him as he stopped them next to the cot.

"He said that huh?" She nodded.

"Frightening isn't it? Death knowing you so well. I was bit intimidated myself." She crossed to Sam, moved a hand over his forehead and then moved back to the cot. Sam's breathing was even though still a bit shallow and ragged. Dean sat on the bed next to his brother, and Bobby moved stand on the other side.

"Night Sammy, sleep well little brother." He said and turned to Nikki.

"Hey, I noticed you have very little in that bag of yours. If you want, we can go into town tomorrow and get whatever things you need." Nikki smiled at him.

"That would be nice Dean thank you, but we'll see how tomorrow plays out. We'll wake Sam up and go from there." She stifled another yawn and, using her cane, made her way to the dresser to grab a pair of sweat pants from her duffle. Heading towards the bathroom Bobby stopped her and asked if she needing anything from the kitchen before they all crashed for the night.

"My bottle of water, I left it on the table, would you mind refilling it and bringing it to me?" Bobby leaned in slightly and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"I don't know if you can hear me kiddo, but sleep peacefully Sam." He walked out of the room to fetch Nikki's bottle, brought it back, and placed it on the nightstand between her cot and Sam's bed. Nikki emerged from the bathroom thanked Bobby and everyone settled in to bed, longing for morning to come as swiftly as possible and see if Sam was really back or not.

- I'm very narcissistic so please review -