A/N: I am hesitant about posting the ending of this chapter, since it can go one of two ways if I do. If I post the very last paragraph to it, it leads to another chapter, which I am not sure I wanna do. Though if I don't, I might leave too much unexplained. I have a conundrum here. What I will do it put a line and a warning before the paragraph...I will leave it up you, the reader to decide what you want.

Tell me in reviews if you think I should leave it the way it is, or continue on. If you think I have tied up everything nicely and do not need to go any further, let me know that as well...

Again, I greatly appreciate every review I have received. You have no idea!

Sam stood frozen to the spot, not sure what he was going to do. Even if a dead girl was inhabiting Dean's body, this was still his brother. He couldn't shoot Vikki without harming Dean. They had too many bad outcomes that way. Also she wasn't a demon, so his powers were moot. She was simply a pissed off ghost who wanted revenge.

"But I'm just your step-father Vik…"

Dean's grip on Steele's throat tightened.

"Oh,"

Dean chuckled.

"And that makes everything hunky dory? That makes what you did to me go away; it just wipes the slate clean of all your wrong doing? Somehow I don't think it works that way."

Dean pulled David back and slammed him against the wall. His eyes rolled back as he slid down to the floor. Dean knelt down in front of him and whispered in his ear.

"Now you'll feel the pain that I felt."

Dean turned and picked up the needle that he had thrown and eyed its contents. Sam watched as Dean slid to David's neck and stuck the needle in.

"Dean, don't…"

Dean glanced at Sam, his finger playing with the plunger of the needle.

"Poor Sammy, you're such a worrier. You see, I have to, or else David is going to continue killing for sport. He almost took out your brother; do you really want him to do that to others? Do you really have it in you to let a monster like him live? I doubt it."

Sam knew the words weren't Dean's, but the voice was his brother's. He just couldn't get that fact out his head. The whole outer package was his brother; it looked like Dean, sounded like Dean, was dressed like Dean, but the driver was something else entirely.

He blinked only once before he dove for his gun and trained it on Dean. The man in front of him smiled widely.

"So, you want your brother to die? David was right; you really must not like him all that much, do you? I have nothing against Dean; I just need him to get the job done, which is why I recommend that you put the gun down before you perforate such a perfect body. I'm not sure your brother would particularly agree with that, do you?"

Sam barely moved the gun. In a way the ghost was right, but he couldn't take the chance that she would use his brother in her little scheme. He stepped closer, the gun back to its former position.

"Listen Vikki, I don't give a shit if your father deserves every bit of what you plan on giving him, but that's my brother you're riding, and I would appreciate it if you'd…"

Dean's face became even more evil. He yanked the needle from David's neck. David stirred slightly.

"Sammy, you really are a pain in the ass aren't you? One little job, one little act of revenge and you just can't let it happen. I guess I should deal with you first."

Dean lunged at Sam, knowing full well that he wouldn't shoot him, that his brother meant more to him than that. Sam was slammed against the floor, the gun skirting along the concrete. Dean smiled.

"I was going to use this on David over there, but I guess I have to use it on you since you are being so uncooperative and all."

Dean held Sam down. Sam struggled against his brother's grasp, but the spirit inside was much stronger than he realized. Sam swung wildly, trying to knock him off, but only succeeding in pissing him off.

"Sorry Sammy. This is going to hurt, if only for a little while."

Dean jabbed the needle into Sam's arm and administered just enough of the Morphine to knock Sam out.

Sam's vision swam as he watched Dean saunter over to David. He leaned down in front of him, stuck the needle into his chest and gave him the rest of the Morphine. Sam's head hit the floor before he saw the outcome, but he knew it couldn't have been a good one.

XXXX

His head hurt and his heart was pounding. He sprung awake, looking around, and unaware of where he was. This had been happening to him a lot lately. He rubbed at the back his head and felt a nice lump forming. That was going to be nothing next to what Dean was going through.

Sam scanned his surroundings and spotted Dean lying on the floor splayed out on his stomach. His right arm was lying across David's legs; his left was under his face which was back to normal. Sam got in closer and noticed that his nose was bleeding.

He shook his brother who at first did not respond and then after further jerks, his eyes finally began to open. He pulled back, not sure if Dean was running the show or Vikki.

"Sa…Sammy. What hap…?"

Sam was still not sure, but he helped him up just the same. Helping him into a sitting position, he noticed that David was still sitting behind them. The needle was dangling from his chest. His eyes were cloudy, blood and foam trickled from his mouth. Sam swallowed hard and looked away. Dean caught his expression and turned around. He gasped and almost fell backwards.

"Did…did I do that?"

He couldn't take his eyes off the body in front of him. It was a hell of time for his vision to come back to him. Of all the first things to see, it had to be that.

Sam gripped Dean's shoulder hard.

"Dean, you didn't do anything. Vikki did. You were under her influence. I could have shot you, but that would have meant killing you, and you know damn well I wasn't about to use my powers. You forbid me from doing that. Besides, she was a ghost, a lot of good it would have done anyway."

Dean took it all in, and then for no reason socked Sam in the face. Sam grabbed his jaw, tasting blood.

"What the hell was that for?"

Dean stood, gripping the gurney hard.

"Next time a ghost tries to inhabit my body, you shoot me. You do not hesitate for any reason. I don't give a shit if I tell you not to beforehand or even during, you shoot me. Got that?"

Sam struggled with what Dean had just told him. He would never have said that under any circumstances. Yes Dean was the 'shoot first, ask questions later' type, but not when it came to his own skin. So why was he saying that now?

"Dean, are you okay? I mean, you never talk like this."

Dean shrugged.

"I'm fine, just a bit sick to my stomach. Can we get out of here while the getting's good? We don't want anyone calling the cops on us or anything."

Sam nodded, but was still leery about his brother. He knew he shouldn't be, but there was something a bit off. He wondered if there was still a bit of residual effect left over from Vikki. Dean moved ahead of him and walked out the door.

The Impala was parked caddywumpsus in front of the building. Apparently Sam had been in a hurry to get there and did not care in the slightest as to how he parked her.

"So, I leave you alone with her for like an hour and you treat her like that? Never again are you driving my baby."

He pulled Sam close and started rifling through his jacket pockets.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

Dean made a face, but continued his digging as if he was looking for the prize at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box. Finally getting what he was looking for, he shoved Sam away and walked toward the car.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. Dean was acting odd to say the least. As Dean got into the driver side, Sam stood there staring off. He just couldn't process it all; it was all too weird to him.

"Hey Sleepy Jean, get your ass in the car before I leave it behind."

Sam mumbled something Dean couldn't hear and slipped into the car. This was not going well at all.

XXXX

Back at the motel, Dean escaped into the bathroom. Sam sat down on his bed and merely waited. He didn't know what else to do but wait. Dean was acting strange, and Sam was on the outside looking in, unable to rationalize any of it.

"It looks like everything is in its place. I guess old Frankenweenie didn't get what he was looking for. Nice to be able to see again I'll tell you that. Things were so freaky for the longest time."

He stepped out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you as well Dean. At least you can drive and not be all bitchy about what music I listen to anymore."

Dean chuckled.

"Next time don't touch my tunes. Blind guys don't appreciate their radios fiddled with. It's rude."

Dean worked his way to the armoire that held their clothes and began to sort through them. He handed Sam some of his and then returned to his own. Sam stuffed his shirts into his bag, and then slowly turned back to Dean.

"Hey, by the way, I took care of that nurse."

Dean nodded.

"Oh really, that's good. Maddy was a problem that needed solving. At least David and she are taken care of now. Saved the local authorities the hassle."

Sam stepped back, eyeing his brother.

"How did you know who Maddy was Dean? Plus, why didn't you ask how I took care of her? You would be pissed at the fact that I took down a human."

Sam grabbed for a shotgun that was lying beside the bed.

"You're not Dean."

Dean turned and grinned.

"I have to thank you Sammy. I couldn't have taken that bitch down without you. She had slept with my father, ruined my family, so she just had to die. Also she helped take in 'strays' as she called them. Tied them down for that bastard while he dissected them like they were a science experiment. I merely did what was necessary to save others, including your brother."

Dean stepped within only an inch of the gun barrel.

"I suggest you shoot me. That's the only way to end this. Though, as I said before, you'd be killing your brother. If that's what you want to do to stop me, go right ahead."

Sam cocked the gun.

"God forgive me Dean."

The shot exploded throughout the motel room. Dean's body flung backwards, slamming into the armoire, cracking the door.

XXXX

Sam dropped the gun on the floor and rushed to his brother's side. Dean's shirt was ripped to shreds, and blood was seeping from the wound. Sam began to breathe hard that his plan had backfired.

"Dean, Dean, can you hear me?"

He shook his brother hard. Dean did not respond. Sam felt for a pulse. It was faint. Damn it Sam, what have you done?

Sam tried lifting his brother off the floor, but in this condition it was damned near impossible. Instead he tried to drag him out into the car. Kicking the door open, he half lifted, half drug Dean out into the backseat of the Impala, checking his pulse the entire time. It was steady, but still very faint.

"Damn it…"

Sam cursed out loud, wishing he hadn't done what he had. It was stupid and reckless. Now here Dean was bleeding from a gunshot wound, something that seemed like a good idea at the time. If Sam didn't get Dean to the hospital quick, he would bleed to death.

Sam finally got Dean into the back of the car and then leapt into the front seat. He tore out of the parking lot a little too fast. He could see Dean slam into the back of the car. Sam slammed a fist into the steering wheel. Yet there was no time to slow down. This was life or death.

At the hospital he unloaded his brother, catching the attention of an EMT. She rushed over grabbing Dean's legs. They carried him in together. A nurse rushed up to them followed by at least two doctors.

"What happened here?"

One of the doctors questioned Sam, but he was too busy worrying about his brother to even notice the guy. At this point he didn't trust them too much anyway.

"Sir, what happened to him?"

He yanked at Sam's shirt while the others took Dean and placed him on a gurney. Sam snapped back to reality.

"Just save my brother, okay?"

The doctor nodded once and headed off after the rest of the medical team.

Half an hour later that same doctor returned with a confused look on his face. He tapped Sam on the arm, making him jump.

"Is my brother okay?"

The doctor crossed his arms in front of him. He looked upset.

"Sir, I am not sure what kind of scam you're running here, but your brother is perfectly fine. Save for a large powder burn on his chest, there is nothing wrong with him. If this is to try and bilk the government out of funds, then I suggest you go somewhere else for that. This is a hospital for people with real needs, not imaginary ones."

Sam stood, looking just as confused as the doctor had.

"I am sorry but I have no clue what you mean. My brother was bleeding profusely when I brought him in here. His pulse was weak, and he wasn't breathing. How do you explain that?"

The doctor shrugged.

"I don't know. Have you taken any hallucinogens this evening that might explain what you saw?"

Sam groaned.

"Listen damn it…I know what the hell I saw. My brother was almost dead. Apparently you need your eyes checked. Where is he?"

The doctor pointed to an exam room down the hall.

"When you are done, get out. I don't have time for games tonight."

Sam glared at him, but complied. He stepped into Dean's room to see him sitting up on the bed, his feet dangling over the bed. He was rubbing his chest.

"Dean what are you…?"

Dean looked up at Sam.

"What in God's name happened to me? I feel like I was hit by a freaking Mack truck. Christ Sam."

Sam cringed.

"That was the only thing I could do to save you. Vikki wouldn't let you go. So I figured rock salt would do the trick."

Dean stopped rubbing his chest. His eyes went wide.

"You what? I'm being used by the Corpse Bride, and you decide to pump me full of rock salt? That's your plan? I oughta belt you right here, I mean it is the perfect place in case your ass hits the floor."

Sam half smiled.

"Well, you did kind of do that already."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you are so not going to bring that up again are you. I mean Jesus, lay off it already. Besides, you had it coming."

Sam shook his head.

"No, not when you found out about me. Just about an hour ago. Actually I think it was Vikki that hit me, seeing as that you were still unaware of your actions at that point. Man can that girl pack a mean left hook."

Dean chuckled.

"So you got the beat down by a chick, a dead chick none the less?"

He leapt off the hospital bed. He groaned as his feet hit the floor. Sam moved to him and led him toward the door.

"Yeah, but she was kinda in your body, so that made the fight a bit on the unfair side."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. So, does this mean she's gone and away from my ass, 'cause that is not something I want haunting me, in a manner of speaking."

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I think she disappeared once I shot your sorry ass full of condiments. By the way, do you remember anything? I mean, when Meg took over I remembered quite a bit."

Dean thought about it for a second then shrugged.

"The last thing I clearly remember was Dr. Fixit trying to steal my eyes. I know you wanted to shoot him, and then I heard Vikki's voice say: 'Make him pay…" After that I was gone. What happened that I need to remember?"

They stopped at the front door of the hospital. Sam struggled to tell Dean that he actually killed someone, even if he had been someone's puppet. It was hard enough knowing he had been, how was Dean going to take it in his condition?

"Um, you sort of killed Dr. Steele. There was that needle full of Morphine that he tried to stick you with. Well you jabbed him with it. It killed him."

Dean's face melted. He backed into the doorframe of the hospital and slid to the ground.

"I killed someone Sammy. I kill…"

Sam leaned in front of him and gripped his arm.

"Dean, you didn't kill anyone. Vikki did. Besides Steele was a deplorable bastard that was killing for the sport of it. He didn't need to live, even if he was human."

Dean looked up at his brother.

"How did you know what he did? I only knew from a vision Vikki showed me. You couldn't possibly know."

Sam sighed.

"That bitch Vikki told me while she…well you know."

Sam let go of Dean's arm and stood.

"Come on. We better get going before that doctor throws us out for loitering. I don't think he liked us very much."

Dean chuckled.

"Does anyone? I think our reputation has been tarnished. I personally think we're awesome."

Sam moved toward the car.

"But unfortunately not everyone shares your opinion."

Dean followed behind him.

"Yeah well, you know what they say about opinions Sammy…"

Sam turned around.

"If you even attempt it, I will smack you."

Out of habit, Dean moved toward the passenger side.

"Hey, after the last few days, I deserve at least one, don't I?"

Sam groaned and tossed him the keys. He caught them perfectly.

"Why are you giving me these?"

Sam pointed to Dean's right hand. He looked at the hand and smiled.

"That's why. You caught them without even looking. You drive."

Dean slipped around the car, elbowing Sam in the stomach. He chuckled softly and got in the car. Dean got in and turned the radio on.

"Okay this time I control the airwaves. I'm thinking Ac/Dc's 'Back in Black'."

Sam smiled.

"Hmm, I was thinking more like Johnny Nash's 'I Can See Clearly Now'."

Dean shoved at Sam who laughed heartily.

"Hey it's apropos, don't you think?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He stuck in a tape and blared it. Sam wiggled a finger in his ear at the sound, but was soon accustomed to it. Dean threw the car into drive, happy to be able to do so and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

...

Warning: Do not read any further unless you want the story to continue! If you think I have tied everything together in the chapter above, disregard the following...

What they didn't see was Vikki Logan standing on the asphalt behind them, blood trickling from her mouth. She wiped at it and then stared at the fading lights of the Impala. This wasn't over. She had her revenge on David and Madison, but now she had one more on her agenda to handle, and she wasn't letting him go down without a fight.

She let out a scream like a banshee and vanished into the night.