A/N: Well, here we go, another update nice and fast as I like to have them. This muse is finally finding her wings with this story...so I hope you guys will enjoy. I have to give a quick thanks to Deb and Manda as always for thier help and guidance in this verse. Thier advice is invaluable...thanks guys!

Without much more ado...here we go.

If your memories do stray
Then they betray all that's past
And all that's been between
Is it gone tell me what went wrong
'cause baby I'm not that strong

And I'm walking wounded
All alone,
And baby I'm not that strong
And I'm walking wounded
All alone, all alone

~ Walking Wounded - The Tea Party.

Kyle, South Dakota.

Four weeks.

Bobby Singer's gaze was locked onto the dusty patch of road before him, his whole body tense.

Four goddamn weeks.

His knuckles were white as Bobby clutched the steering wheel so tight that it creaked in his grasp. It seemed like no time at all in the grand scheme of things - but four weeks ago, the heart and soul had been ripped out of the Winchester family.

Four weeks ago Bobby had driven along this very road, looking for Sam and Dean when they had failed to return home. And what he found? Would never leave Bobby Singer...

At first Bobby had thought some drunken farmer had managed to flip his pickup on the way home from town. It wasn't until he was closer, that Bobby could see that there were two cars involved...and his heart sank to his stomach as he recognised one of them. The Chevelle pulled off the road with a small cloud of dust and Bobby climbed out on shaky legs. Years of dealing with broken down, smashed wrecks told Bobby what he didn't want to know – how this had all played out. There was a pale, dirty yellow Mustang sitting in the middle of the road, it's front end caved in, coolant puddled beneath it. The driver was no where to be seen and Bobby was willing to bet they'd never catch the coward who was willing to run from a crash like this.

The Impala was a little further down the road, lying on her roof like a wounded animal. The damage to her rear end was all Bobby needed to see to place the image in his mind of what had happened, how the muscle car had spun and flipped in seconds after the impact. He approached slowly, one step at a time, his mouth dry. Were the boys still in the car? Had they crawled free?

Rounding one side of the Impala answered those questions for Bobby. Sam was knelt near the front of the car, cradling his brother in his arms as he whispered brokenly, "I can fix this. I...I can fix this, Dean. You... you can't go. I can fix this. I can save you. Let me save you. Please."

"Sam?" Bobby said after a moment, almost hesitant to speak at all.

The emptiness that filled Sam's eyes as he looked up, shook Bobby to the core. Something was broken in that boy. Something that was never going to be fixed, no matter how much Sam wanted it to be.

Looking at road now, it was still so easy for Bobby to see that scene before him. Replaying in his mind like a movie that he wished he could erase forever. It had taken a call to John, before Bobby could get Sam to move or relinquish his brother's body. The boy had all but growled at Bobby anytime he stepped near Dean, clutching the body closer with a possessiveness that the older hunter wasn't willing to interfere with. John had finally been able to talk Sam down, but it damn near broke the man to finally gather Dean's body into his arms, giving the whole image some sort of bitter angelic feel to it all as he took to the sky at last.

Bobby had guided Sam to his Chevelle as if the kid were a zombie. All motion without thought. A shell that had been gutted from the inside. There had been no conversation, no tears on the drive home. Sam had simply stared out the window as much as Bobby was now. Like someone had just flipped a switch on him and everything had stopped.

Turning the key, Bobby felt the engine surge to life and he pulled back onto the road, heading for home. A box was sat on the seat beside him, containing something that he hoped would give Connor a reason to smile again. God knows they could all do with a reason these days...

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Cold. Skye kept her hand pressed to the hood of the Impala, her gaze sweeping over the gouges and scratches that marred the once immaculate paint job. There was no shine anymore, it was as though the heart of the muscle car had died along with Dean. Now there was nothing but a cold, empty shell that she would give anything to hear roar to life again. To feel the warmth of the engine beneath her hand and for one moment look through that shattered windscreen and see Dean smiling back at her.

It was easy enough to see Dean there still. That cocky grin in place, green eyes sparkling with mischief. A vision that could bring a smile to Skye even now, before it would fade before her eyes.

Skye trailed her hand along the hood towards the driver's door, lifting her hand away slowly as the dried blood in the interior came into view. No one had touched the Impala except to bring her home where she belonged. The car was supposed to be Sam's now. Dean had made sure that preparations were made before he died.

His silver ring hung on a chain around Skye's neck. The amulet was Connor's now and it was the only thing that helped the little boy sleep at night. Tiny little mementos that meant everything to Skye, yet at the same time, stood for the very thing she couldn't bear.

Dean was gone.

He was gone and she was here. One soul for another. That was how it worked, right? Dean had given his, so that Skye would live. She wanted to be angry with him. Wanted to tell whoever had agreed to make the deal to take it back. But to do so meant that Connor and Ethan lost their mother. There was no way to win this and it made Skye even angrier.

This wasn't the life she wanted for her sons. All this loss, all this pain. All Skye had ever wanted was a family, a home. In opening herself up to Dean, Skye had both gained and lost those things.

Sure, she had family still. John, Sam, Elise and Bobby had all shown her time and time again over the last few weeks that she wasn't alone in her grief. That they were all there for her. But without Dean it still seemed empty and Skye hated that. She hated that he had left such a huge hole in her life, even more than Jason ever had.

Skye needed to move forward, but not move on. There would be no moving on for her. That was something Skye had resigned herself to. No one else would be allowed into her heart the way Dean was. Not after this. It just hurt too damn much.

But there was Connor and Ethan to think of now. Skye couldn't let her grief rule her. She needed to be strong for them. They needed her. So instead Skye had taken to swallowing down her grief and locking it away where the boys would never see it. They had to believe Mommy was okay and that no matter what happened she was there to fight for them. Her boys were what mattered now.

The Chevelle pulled into the auto yard, rolling to a halt not far from the porch before the door opened and Bobby climbed out, juggling a box awkwardly as he headed for the house.

Skye thought nothing of it until she heard an excited squeal from inside the house. Connor's squeal. Logic told her that it had been a happy sound, but it still had her starting towards the house, moving faster and faster until she was all but jogging inside.

"Connor? Are you okay, baby?"

"Mommy, look! Unca Bobby got me a pwesent!" Connor was standing in the hallway, his smile so wide and beaming it was almost blinding. Squirming in his arms was a black and tan puppy that was half the size of Connor already.

"What the hell?" Skye couldn't believe what she was seeing. Since when had Bobby thought this was going to be a good idea?

Connor's smile fell slightly, clutching the pup closer to his chest. "Don't you like him?"

"Oh, no...no, no, baby. He's adorable. Of course I like him! But how about you take that little guy outside and see if he needs to go to the bathroom, okay? He's going to have to learn not to pee in the house." Skye plastered a bright smile on her face.

"Okay, Mommy! Come on, puppy!" Connor yelled, running for the door with the pup jiggling heavily in his arms.

Once the coast was clear, Skye stormed straight for the kitchen, finding Bobby making himself a coffee from the pot. "What the fuck are you playing at, Bobby Singer?"

"Whoa, whoa, what the hell's got your panties in a bunch?" Bobby was on the defensive in his own house and that was guaranteed to get his back up. "It's just a pup, Skye. The kid needs something to distract him from the goddamn black hole this house has been lately. I used to own a dog from the same guy...a hunter over in Wounded Knee. Best damn dog I ever owned too."

"I don't care if it was Lassie herself...we don't want it."

"You mean you don't."

"Whatever! Take it back. I'm not doing this. Not again. You can't do this to Connor."

"Do what? Give him something to love?" Bobby demanded, standing taller as he saw Skye drawing closer until they were eye to eye.

"All you're doing is opening him up to have his heart broken, damn it! The last thing he needs is something to love that'll leave him again! I won't have him hurt like that." Skye spat angrily, waiting for Bobby's counter argument. He would never understand. Bobby hadn't been there the night that Jason's ghost had killed Dodger, snapping the old bull terrier's neck like it was a tooth pick. Skye couldn't let that happen to Connor. "What if a car hits it? What if it gets sick? Or if some freakish thing you all hunt kills it? It'll tear his heart out, Bobby. I'm not doing that to my son!"

"So...what? You're going to wrap him in cotton wool and just fill his head with damn fairytales? No one ever dies, no one ever gets hurt? That's not protecting him, Skye. That's protecting yourself. You're the one that's scared to let anyone in. Don't go putting that hang up on the kid too. That ain't fair!" Bobby growled, refusing to back down.

"I don't care if it's fair...it's what I want." Skye stepped back then, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "He's just a little boy, Bobby."

"Then you take it back." Bobby lifted his chin, daring Skye to take his challenge. "You walk out there and tell Connor that he can't have that puppy. I ain't doing it."

"Fine!" Skye turned on her heel and stormed towards the front door, grasping the handle with a hand that was shaking with anger. Through the screen door, she could see Connor running in circles with the puppy nipping at his heels, his laughter high pitched and carefree. It was like a bucket of ice water to her anger, shutting down the fire inside instantly. Her hand dropped away from the door handle, tears spilling down her cheeks as she heard Bobby's footsteps behind her.

"You can't shut it out, Skye. You need to deal with what's happened..."

"I am dealing, Bobby. Just...just leave it alone. Leave me alone." Skye turned, pushing past him as she took herself upstairs to the nursery to check on Ethan.

Bobby watched her go, his heart breaking. His house was so full of pain and Bobby was doing his best to try and help the people he loved. He just hoped that it was going to be enough...

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Dust exploded from the pages as Sam slammed the book in front of him closed and dropped it off the table with a tired sigh. "Nothing." His hand drifted up up his face, tired fingers massaging the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes. That was all he seemed to find lately. Nothing. No answers, no leads to Crowley, no way to spring Dean from the pit.

Frustration had been gnawing at his gut for days now, washed down by mouthfuls of bourbon to try and dull the ache in his heart. Deep, dark circles had carved themselves beneath his eyes, dark stubble covered his chin in shadow. The one thing that was keeping him grounded still was Elise. Even now, her hands were on his shoulders, kneading, rubbing, working out the knots of muscle that were burning as he leaned back.

"You need to get some sleep, Sam. Pushing yourself like this isn't helping anyone." Elise sounded exhausted herself.

Sam twisted slightly in his chair, looking up at Elise. "I can't sleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see him, Elise. I hear him screaming in my mind. How the hell am I supposed to sleep through that?"

Elise nodded, her heart in her throat, feeling it closing up on her. Sam hadn't slept in days...and even in the weeks since Dean had died, the only way to get him to sleep at all was to get him blind drunk. But that would only work for a few hours before Sam was awake, screaming about chains and clutching at his body as though he expected to find wounds. Elise had stopped asking Sam about what he was seeing, it was too much for her.

"Is Dad back yet?"

"I don't think so. I haven't seen him." Elise shook her head. John had left two hours ago to follow up on some contact he had found. Whoever this Crowley was, he was proving to be almost impossible to find and Elise was starting to think that they were chasing the demon equivalent of the Grail. What if Crowley didn't actually exist? Sam and John were pinning their hopes on this demon when maybe there was no hope to begin with?

Elise didn't want to say that to Sam. Not now. Maybe not ever. He could no sooner give up on trying to get Dean back, than Elise would have if it was her own brother down there. But what was it costing Sam in the process?

"Sam...Sam, please. Stop. Just for a little while? Stretch out on the sofa...just relax. You don't need to sleep. You just need to take a break. Otherwise you're going to bloody well collapse and no offence? But I can't exactly drag your arse to that sofa if that happens."

"You could try..." The barest hint of a smile flickered on his lips like the sun trying to break through the clouds, before it was gone again.

Elise leaned in, her hands gently cupped to his cheeks as she pressed her lips to his, trying to ignore the strong stench of bourbon on his breath. "Please, Sam. For me?"

An argument tried to form itself before it quickly died. Sam was just too damn tired to argue anymore. Maybe Elise was right? Maybe he just needed to stretch out for a while? Let his mind run back over everything he had read on the off chance that he'd missed something? "Okay...just for a little while."

Sam let himself be led to the couch, lying down with his feet hanging over one side as he got comfortable. Elise sat down on the floor and laid her head near his chest, closing her eyes as she felt Sam rest a hand on her shoulder, playing with her hair gently.

It was only a few minutes later that Elise noticed the change in his breathing, the way it had deepened, his fingers now lax while still tangled around her hair. Sam was finally asleep and Elise could only hope it would help him.

Because she was out of ideas and worried sick that she was losing the man she loved...

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Somewhere south of Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

There was a time when the steady, rhythmic snap of his wings was soothing for John. For those few golden moments he was free and able to believe he was really a hawk, an eagle, even an angel if he really wanted to stretch his imagination. Anything but the half breed bastard that Hell had made him during his time there.

What was Dean suffering right now? What horrors were they visiting on his boy in his name, just because he'd managed to escape? John could taste bile in his mouth and beat his wings harder, really pushing himself to go faster and faster now. As if he could outrun the thoughts and images in his mind.

The trip to Sioux Falls had been an exercise in futility. The demon John had tracked down knew nothing of Crowley's whereabouts. It had been so tempting to slit the bastard's throat - but since it was laughing at him from within the skinny pale body of a 15 year old boy, John didn't have it in him to have that blood on his hands. He'd exorcised it instead and rushed the kid to the hospital where hopefully they'd be able to put his mind and body back together after a lot of therapy. Maybe death would have been kinder after all?

Death. The word was almost a joke to John some days. Once upon a time it was meant to represent peace, an end to things. Now he couldn't think of it without seeing never ending suffering. There had been no peace in Mary's death, or Jessica's. Skye's death had led to them losing Dean. It seemed like everything John and his boys had ever cared about had been touched and tainted by demons.

Now there was only one place that ever gave John peace...and that was several hours away in Lawrence. He needed to talk to Mary and just sit by her headstone. It didn't matter that she wasn't in the grave itself. It still gave him a sense of connection to her in a way...

Feeling the wind rushing past him, John turned and began to head straight for Kansas.

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Chains. Everywhere Sam looked, he saw chains. Crisscrossing the abyss above and below him. Thick, bloody chains that held hundreds – no, thousands of bodies. Each of them screaming and writhing and begging Sam to help them as he inched his way along the chains, letting his hands and feet guide him as he closed his eyes to block out the horror that surrounded him.

Hands clutched at his feet, voices sobbed in his ear as he passed...

"Please...please...you have to help me!"

"No...no, please. Me! Help me!"

"I have a wife...children. What did I ever do to end up here?"

"God, make it stop...just make it stop!"

"God won't help you down here, asshole!"

"Shut up!" Sam screamed, one hand knotted in his hair as he tried to block them all out. Why was he here again? Why did he keep getting pulled back here against his will?

"Sam?"

There. That was the reason right there. Sam turned towards the sound of his brother's voice, inching his way along the chains faster now, desperate to see Dean. His hands fumbled along the chain until they found Dean, sliding over his shoulder and squeezing ever so gently to tell him that Sam was there. "It's okay, dude...it's okay, I'm here. I'm right here."

It was a difficult balancing act, keeping himself on the chains without adding his body weight to the chains that were holding Dean in place. Sam would never have forgiven himself if he had added to his brother's pain. He'd sooner let go and fall into the abyss below him.

"Sammy?" One word, barely spoken aloud at all. It was as if there was a fog over Dean's eyes that was lifting in the presence of his brother. His little brother. The light was slowly coming to life within those green orbs, tears flooding down his cheeks unashamedly. "You...you can't be here. It's...it's too dangerous, Sam."

"It's good to see you too." Sam couldn't help the lopsided grin he gave him. It was a stupid, surreal moment for them both, just face to face again after all this time. Whatever his brother was going through down here, Sam could tell he was losing himself more and more...it was getting harder for Dean to see him. Or remember him.

The first few visits had been so typical of Dean. Ranting and yelling at Sam that he had to get the hell out of there and never look back. But as time past, Sam was beginning to see a change in his brother that was killing Sam a little more each time. His brother was forgetting him.

"Sammy...I...I can't. I can't do this. Please, please take me with you."

" I can't, Dean. I'm not really here. You know that. You know what this is."

Dean lowered his head, nodding jerkily, choking back a sob.

Sam felt like he'd been sucker punched, seeing his brother that way. Dean never let down the walls, never let anyone see him that way. He wasn't only losing Sam...he was losing himself.

"I'm going to get you out of here, though...I promise, Dean." It didn't matter what it was going to cost him.

"Get out of here, Sammy. Don't let them catch you." Dean raised his head and met his brother's gaze. From behind Sam, howling, echoing barks could be heard that sent a chill down his spine. "I'll be back for you, Dean. I'm coming back for you."

Inch by inch, he began to make his way along the chains, tears blurring his vision as he heard the hellhounds closing in and Dean's screams begin. Snarls filled the air along with the smack and slap of wet, tearing flesh before Dean's voice was silenced.

The chain Sam was on began to bob and jerk wildly, the howling barking growing closer and closer. There was no choice. Sam closed his eyes, tears spilling down his cheeks as he let go of the chain, spread his arms wide and tumbled backwards into the abyss...

"DEAN!"

Elise jerked awake with her heart in her mouth, scrambling up to check on Sam. He was clawing wildly at the air before him with unseeing eyes, still trapped in his nightmare. His chest was heaving as Sam fought to suck in air with every panicked breath.

"Sam...SAM! Wake up!" Elise grabbed at his arms and tried to lower them, fighting against a strength that she was never going to beat. "Sam, fucking wake up!"

With a huge, whooping gasp of air, Sam seemed to suddenly coming back to himself, his eyes blinking rapidly as they filled with tears. Elise climbed onto the couch and dragged him into her arms, feeling how badly Sam was shaking as she gently whispered over and over to him. "Shhhh, I'm here, I'm here. It's okay. You're awake...it's okay."

They couldn't keep doing this. Something was going to give and Elise knew it was going to be Sam's sanity. There had to be something she could do to stop this, to help him. But what?

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You need to deal with what happened...

What the hell did Bobby think she was doing? Skye was dealing with what had happened...how could she not be? Everywhere she damn well looked, there was something to remind her of what she had lost. Dean's leather jacket was still hanging on the chair near the desk in the corner of the room. A pair of his boots were lying forgotten beside his side of the bed.

Ethan was lying in the middle of the bed, quietly sucking on his fist and watching his mother with his father's green eyes, the picture of innocence.

Deal with what happened. It sounded so simple. So damn easy. Just put it all behind you and move on.

Skye picked up a shirt from the bed, bringing it to her face and inhaling deeply, drawing the familiar and fading scent of aftershave, gun oil and just...Dean. After a moment, she slipped it over her head and curled up on the bed, letting Ethan grasp her hand with his. He gurgled and wriggled a little, his gaze watching nothing but his mother, the center of his universe.

"We'll be okay, buddy. I promise. No one is ever going to take you away from me. No matter what. It's you, me and your brother against the world. What do you say?"

Ethan gurgled again, huffing out a wet, almost snorting breath a moment later.

Skye slipped her hand free of his grasp and gently stroked his hair. Tears blinded her vision momentarily, her voice hitching as she spoke. "Yeah, I miss him too, sweetie. I miss him too."