Max: Rogue you are so damn mean!

Me: hehe I know. Its short and I left it on another cliffhanger. But I didn't mean it honest.

Max: So why'd you do it?

Me: Because I was getting a headache. This story has been really hard for me and this chapter was very difficult.

Max: Well I hope our readers enjoy it.


Chapter 4

Dean immediately put the car in park and scrambled out of the car to where Sam lay on the ground across the street. John quickly followed. Dean dropped to his knees and began feeling for a pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found one.

"He's alive," he said turning to his father.

"Thank goodness."

Dean turned around and began to shake Sam and call his name.

"Sammy, come on wake up. Sammy?"

"Dean, I don't see what good calling his name is gonna do."

"He can feel my breath when I talk. Sam, c'mon kiddo, time to wake up."

Sam wasn't waking up and Dean lifted him the best he could with John's help and put him in the backseat of the impala. Dean got behind the wheel and took off toward the motel. Again with John's help Dean picked up Sam and took him to their room and laid him on the bed. Dean tapped Sam again.

"C'mon, Sammy. You gotta wake up."

Sam moaned and his eyes fluttered open. He didn't know where he was and began to panic until he felt a hand on his face and he knew it was Dean.

"Hey, kiddo, how you feelin'?" Dean asked right in his line of sight.

Sam gave him the sign for pain and Dean nodded, "I figured. You've got some nasty gashes on your stomach." Dean passed him a bottle of whiskey.

Sam took the bottle and immediately knew what it was for. He unscrewed the top and began to drink.

"Why are you giving him whiskey?" John asked.

"Because he needs to be knocked out before I can stitch him and whiskey knocks him out," Dean said watching Sam become drowsy.

Once Sam conked out Dean took the bottle, which was only half drunk, from Sam's hand and got out the materials to stitch up his little brother. As Dean worked, John talked.

"Now do you see why it was a bad idea for him to be here? He's a magnet for trouble like I said."

"Well, maybe if you hadn't made him feel so damn useless then he wouldn't have run off. He probably wanted to prove to you that he was not useless."

"And how was he gonna do that? By getting his ass killed?"

"You know what, Dad? Shut up. Just shut up," Dean said as he finished the stitches.

Dean tapped Sam on the cheek and called his name letting his breath touch his brother's lips. Sam bolted awake and began signing like crazy. Dean chuckled and grabbed his brother's hands.

"Slow down, buddy boy. Take it easy. Now, slowly, tell me what happened."

Sam let his hands fly and Dean grabbed them again, "Sammy, talk."

Sam shook his head. Dean nodded.

"Yes, Sammy. I want you to talk. I know Dad's in the room, but you need to talk."

Again Sam shook his head no. Dean sighed and cupped his brother's chin.

"Please, Sammy? I know you usually only talk when it's just us, but can you please?"

Sam sighed and nodded.

"Good, now tell us what happened."

"Um, after you left, I, uh, wanted to…um, show that I wasn't, um, you know…and I found something, in the forest. I, uh, wanted to call, but, um, can't, right? I decided to come back and I was, hurt by something," Sam said and signed at the same time.

John looked at Sam like he had two heads. He hadn't understood anything that Sam was saying. Dean on the other hand seemed to understand.

"Okay, let me get this straight, you left the motel because you wanted to prove to us that you weren't useless. You ended up going into the forest where you found something and you decided to come back to the motel to wait for me and dad when you were attacked by something and you don't know what it was. Am I right?" Dean asked and signed.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, but I wanted to prove to dad, not you."

"Oh, okay. Wanna show us what you found?"

Sam nodded. The three of them put on their jackets and climbed into the impala. Dean behind the wheel, John in the passenger seat, and Sam in the back. Dean parked the car by the forest and they all climbed out. They walked through the forest area for a minute when Sam stopped and sniffed. He scrunched up his eyes and sniffed again.

"What is he doing?"

"Trying to find where he was the last time. Even though he can't hear, his sense of smell and sight has improved."

"Oh."

After several minutes Sam stopped sniffing and began walking again. Dean and John followed him until he stopped by a clearing. Sam bent down and moved some of the leaves and pointed. Dean and John also bent down and looked to where Sam was pointing. It was a tombstone.

"Why would someone be buried out here?" John asked.

Dean shrugged and pulled his penlight out of his pocket and flashed it on the grave marker and gasped. The tombstone read MARLIE JACKSON BORN MAY 12, 1973 DIED DECEMBER 13 2000.

"How is this even possible? I mean we just saw her, right?"

"Unless a demon is using her meat suit."

Dean groaned, "You mean we're gonna have to dig her up, ain't we?"

"Yup."

"Shit."

TBC...