Author's Note: I hope you enjoy this chapter. There is definitely more of it than anticipated!

Sam spent the next 9 hours driving as fast as he possibly could. The thought of Dean loosing his life was bad enough, but the thought of his big brother's mind going first was something that he had never even contemplated before. As he was driving a conversation with Jessica, a life time ago, came to mind.

"Where are you going baby?" he had asked from the door way.

"My parents are putting my grandmother in a nursing home this weekend and I want to be there to help her settle in."

"What happened?"

"She has Alzheimer's."

"Oh."

"She is getting so bad that she is starting to get mean, and I want to see her one last time while she is still semi together." He remembered her voice being soft, and she sighed heavily as she stuffed a shirt into her bag. Jessica was usually very methodical and put everything in its place. Today, however, she was throwing clothes in her bag and paying no attention to the state the clothes were in when they reached the bag. He remembered putting a hand on her shoulder, trying in vain to comfort the love of his life, and she sagged against his firm frame.

"Do you have any grandparents?"

"No." he said simply. "They all died before I was born."

"I've always been close to my grandma. She is someone that I go to when I'm sad and she is the one who can comfort me and take all of the pain and make things make sense. I called her first when Marcus Might dumped me. She was just so easy to talk to. Then this year…." she trailed off and looked into the distance as if a projector was playing the events of her life on the wall. "She has been loosing that strength that I have admired for some time now. Little things went first, you know, can't remember where she put things and then it escalated to not being able to remember who lived where and now sometimes she doesn't even remember who she is. It is a horrible disease. And it runs in my family. God I hope I don't end up like that."

"Even if it did, I would be right beside you, reminding you who you are. And we have a love that can't be forgotten."

"Everything can be lost to old age. It is just hard loosing someone like her." Jessica nuzzled deeper into Sam's chest. He leaned down and kissed her head.

"Do you have anyone like that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Someone who is just so strong and wonderful? Someone who knows you better than you know yourself and who is the backbone of your life?" He wrapped his arms around her and put his face into her hair.

"Yeah."

"Who?"

"Not important."

"They dead?"

"Dead to me." He had been so angry with Dean for not siding with him when he wanted to go away to college that he had viewed him as dead. He had locked his big brother out of his life and now as he sat in the Impala, pushing it's antique engine way past it's natural limit, trying to race back to that brother, that brother that he had called dead not four years ago, he wished that he hadn't been so petty and had called Dean as often as possible, checked on him, shared his life with him. But, no, he had lost those years and now he would give just about anything to have those years back.

"Well at least you didn't have to watch them loose themselves and their strength. Death is easier than watching someone you love deteriorate before your very eyes." Jessica had no way of knowing that is exactly what was going to happen and now he wished that he had paid more attention to how his sweet angelic Jessica had handled the situation, because he was fairly sure when he got to Bobby's and saw just how bad Dean was, he was going to fall apart.

Sam made it to Bobby's house in less than the 10 predicted hours. He raced into the house and Bobby grabbed him.

"Slow down son." Bobby's calm demeanor made Sam panic just a little more.

"I'm not too late am I?"

"No. But, I don't want you to kill yourself getting to the couch." Sam nodded and took a deep breath. "I want you to be very aware that he looked a whole lot worse than when you last saw him. That bruise is pretty bad, and his eyes are completely clouded over. He can't see very well at all. His mind is definitely different. He doesn't have a complete memory of a lot of things and you have to remind him several times of things. He still thinks your daddy is alive." Sam nodded. "Now where is that amulet?" Sam fished through his pocket and produced the offending accessory and handed it to Bobby.

"What do we do now?"

"We wait for midnight. That is what we do."

"But that is over 12 hours away. He may not live that long."

"The ritual says midnight. I can't make anything hurry along Sam, I'm not magic." Bobby noted that Sam's muscles fairly thrummed with pent up energy. "Why don't you go outside and run a little."

"I'm not a child anymore Bobby."

"No, but you need to get rid of that nervous energy. The best way to do that is through physical activity."

"I'm going to sit with Dean."

"Sam.."

"I've wasted too much time Bobby. I'm going to sit with him." Bobby sighed.

"Suit yourself." As soon as Sam was out of earshot Bobby mumbled "Stubborn ass."

Sam tentatively entered the living room. He saw the bundle of blankets and he sat on the floor beside the couch and touched the pile of blankets. Dean groaned and pulled the shroud away from his face. Sam visibly paled. Sam was suddenly very glad that Dean's eyesight was shot.

"Sammy?" he asked groggily, voice husky.

"Yeah Dean." He said softly.

"Dad told you that you need to be in school and not looking after me."

"What?"

"You have that big test today. Go. You need to be there. It is just a few bumps and bruises. The poltergeist didn't throw me that hard." Sam remembered the event that he was talking about. Dean had just turned 18 and a poltergeist had thrown him so hard against a wall that the wall had buckled. Dean's whole back had been a mass of black and purple bruising. Their father had decided that it wasn't wise to take Dean to the hospital; he said it was all superficial. Sam had never been so sure about that. Dean didn't like to advertise anything that hurt him, but Sam noticed that he winced every now and again and he rubbed at his back a lot. Sam was fairly certain that he had cracked his spine. Dean hadn't moved from the bed for three weeks. Somewhere in the back of Sam's mind he knew that Dean knew he had really hurt himself. But in typical Dean fashion he sucked it up and pretended like he was all right.

"Dean." He sighed

"Sammy, go on to school. I'll be fine."

"No, Dean, I'm going to sit right here and make sure you are all right."

"Sammy, you can't get into college if you miss school."

"I don't need to go to school."

"I want you to go. I can't. But I want you to go. You deserve to be happy." Dean's words trailed off and the older man fell asleep. Sam sighed, ran his hands through his hair and felt drained. His brother didn't know where or when he was. God he hoped he didn't have to watch him fall apart and become a child in a man's body. Sam averted his eyes from the white hair, wrinkled bruised skin, and looked at his hands in his lap, the rage boiled in his throat. Demons beware, Sam Winchester was pissed.