finally!! sorry about the wait, this chapter was giving me serious problems!! but now, it's finally done. only one more chappy after this left. thank you all so much for the great, great reviews, they really make my day. and to laineau, i hope you enjoyed your b-day present. it only took me from june till now to write. lol.

as always, let me know what you think. :)

PS: this chapter is pretty long, but i couldnt find a good place to break it.

AND OVER AGAIN

Chapter 20

Dean slid down the wall of the warehouse, his body shaking with the energy he was expending. He couldn't find anything to use for support as he walked and was therefore forced to put at least some weight on his damaged knee. And even some weight was too much. He was breathing hard, his body giving out no matter how much he tried to fight it. He had to stay strong, though, had to get to Sam, to stop the rest of his family from doing what he knew they were planning. He couldn't let Sam give himself up, couldn't let him embrace the power within him. Sam was too good for that, had too much future ahead of him to give it all up to save his wayward brother.

Dean wished his family would see that, wished the other two would stop sacrificing themselves, stop putting themselves in danger to save him. Dean knew he had no future, no life beyond the hunt, and he was ok with that. He had come to terms with his fate, had excepted the inevitable, because he knew he could give Sammy a chance, and in the end, that's all that mattered. But his father didn't seem to agree with that, and Dean refused to let John ruin everything his life had been. Sam was going to get free of this, was going to move on, and Dean refused to let anyone stand in the way.

He blinked several times, fighting against the darkness, beating back the silent void that was trying to claim him. He had to move, had to keep himself hidden from Marshal until he could get a hold of his father and tell him what was really going on. Dean pushed off the cold ground, leaning back against the wall of the building, his right leg still held off the ground. He could feel the fever as it ran through his body, his knee infected more than he cared to think about. But, he wasn't about to let that stop him.

Dean made his way down the side of the building, leaning against the wall each time his right leg was forced to make contact with the hard ground. It was slow going to say the least, and Dean just hoped Marshal hadn't figured out he'd made an escape. Dean was certain it wouldn't take long for the hunter to find him, hell, it wouldn't take long for a girl scout to find him at the rate he was moving. He had used his amulet just incase something other than Marshal was currently following him, but he knew the talisman wasn't able to shield him from humans. Nope, that took good old fashioned hiding.

He rounded a corner, cursing when he saw what lay in front of him. The warehouse had been built on the shores of a large lake, parts of the structure stretching out across the lake to a small island just off shore. Who the hell built a warehouse over water, Dean had no clue, but apparently, someone did. He now found himself on a rickety metal platform, the only path from his side of the warehouse to dry land.

"Oh that's freaking wonderful," Dean mumbled, taking an unsteady step out onto the catwalk. "At least it isn't that deep."

He made his way slowly across the walkway, using the flimsy rails like crutches. He stopped when he felt the rails bend and sway, breathing slowly and deliberately as his heart began to race. This whole escape was really turning out to be a bad idea. Well, escaping wasn't really the bad idea, but the route he planned left a lot to be desired. Dean took a few more minutes to regain his strength before starting across the platform once again.

He tried to put more weight on his right leg, nearly falling to the platform beneath him when a sharp pain shot through his body. This escape was going down the drain and fast. Dean shook and tested the metal bars of the walkway again, the railing creaking and giving a bit beneath the force but not breaking. And, Dean decided, it would have to be enough.

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The impala sped down the empty road, Sam fighting to keep control of himself as he drove. He could feel himself slipping, flashes of the warehouse and Dean invading his mind, stealing away his focus. He tried to force them from him, tried to put up his defenses, but he was coming to realize that it might be too late. The powers were building in him, and while he could focus them and channel them, he couldn't figure out how to stop them. He'd opened a floodgate, and now he was afraid he'd be lost in the currents of his own mind.

He pulled up outside the warehouse, his mind screaming as he doubled over in the driver's seat, his head resting on the warn steering wheel. He felt like his head was going to explode-- images and emotions flooding through him, attacking him, destroying him. Each thought was fighting for supremacy, fighting for a place in his over crowded mind, fighting for control. He could feel the darkness growing in him, pulling him away from the world around him, controlling him like a puppet.

Sam fought to hold onto his senses. He made himself aware of the air around him, of the feel of the leather seat, the sweat on his face. The void was calling to him, draining him, ripping into him like claws, but he knew he couldn't give into it. He had felt the void before, but it had never been this strong, this over powering. Then again, he'd never actually tried to use his powers, it was always something that just happened.

The reality of it all suddenly dawned on Sam, the truth of what he'd done crushing him along with the void. He'd given into it, used it, let it become apart of him. Ever since the Asura he'd fought the powers, ignored them, wished them away. But his dad and Bobby had asked him to use them, and use them he did, and that was now proving to be a terrible decision. He made them a part of him, and they were now taking over.

Sam tried to calm his breathing, lifting up his head to survey the area around him. His vision blurred and dimmed, his body fighting against the unnatural powers growing inside him. He could see the warehouse in front of him, see lights reflected on the water like gossamer strings. He knew he was really there, but he couldn't keep his mind focused. It was like having ten visions at once, and the pain blinding him.

Sam could feel Dean's pain, his own body buckling with the agony. Sam could feel his father's fears, his heart racing with adrenaline that was not his own. He could feel Bobby, the older hunter's mind drifting back through time, to a place where losing Sam and Dean wasn't an everyday fear. He could feel Marshal Williamson, the hunter's pulse quickening as he soaked up the hunt, stalking his prey. And Sam could feel something else, standing just beyond the void, calling to him with soothing words, promising paradise on the other side of the darkness.

The young hunter fell from the car, his overworked body resting in the dirt for who knew how long. He had to get to his brother, had to get to Dean. Sam took several long breaths, focusing on his brother, letting Dean's strengths and weaknesses invade his mind, wrap around his soul. Slowly, Sam pushed himself off the ground, the power within him giving him a strength he shouldn't have had. Without even shutting the car door, Sam followed his senses, letting his mind focus entirely on the beacon that was his brother.

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Marshal Williamson stalked his prey, moving around the large building slowly but with purpose. He didn't know exactly where Dean went, but he had a pretty good guess-- the kid was probably headed to dry land. The hunter didn't need to move fast though, hell, Dean was probably crawling at this point. No, he'd find him in due time, right now he was having way too much fun with his newest 'hunt'. The boy was good, Marshal had to give him that, but he was still human, and humans made mistakes.

Marshal stowed his gun, he'd never really liked the idea of shooting fish in a barrel. And really, he wasn't trying to kill Dean, not unless he had to. He knew he had to get Sam to use his powers, knew he had to get the young man to embrace them, and as always, Dean was trapped in the middle of it all. For Dean, Sam would do anything, of that Marshal Williamson was certain. He just needed to keep pushing, needed Sam to believe that he'd lose his brother, that accepting the powers was the only way to save Dean.

The hunter moved stealthily around a corner, a smile spreading across his face when he saw the boy. Dean was on a catwalk a few floors below Marshal, the twenty eight year old sliding across the metal walkway, his right leg dragging behind him as he struggled to pull himself forward. Marshal stood where he was, watching the scene unfold beneath him, his adrenaline growing as he watched the boy below him. Everything was falling into place.

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John cursed as he pulled up into the dirt lot next to the abandoned warehouse. He should have seen this coming, should have known what was happening with his boys. But, like always, he'd turned away from it, focusing instead on the hunt, and this time John was afraid he'd lost everything. He jumped from the truck before the engine had completely died, his heart racing as he made his way to the open door of the impala. He hadn't expected anyone to be in the car, but seeing the emptiness himself was like a stab wound to his chest.

His boys were out there somewhere, suffering and alone, and John had never felt like more of a failure. How had everything come to this? For the last year his mind had wandered back to that fateful night, traveling down that dark road, the shadows still haunting him. Everything had changed that night, his entire world turning on him, the planet beneath him shifting-- and now he was afraid he'd lost his grip completely. Sam had attacked him, had turned on him, and he wasn't possessed. No, the boy that had stood before him was one hundred percent Sam.

"Johnny?" Bobby's voice broke through John's stupor, pulling the hunter back into the moment.

John knew he had to focus, knew he couldn't let himself fall into the darkness that was surrounding him. He hadn't lost his boys yet, and god help whoever tried to steal them away.

"I'm ok."

"We'll find them, John."

"How many times can we come this close, Bobby? I mean--" John stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing. "How much longer do I have to watch them suffer?"

"Let's just work on getting them back, Johnny. We'll work on everything else when we know they're safe."

"That's just it. They're never safe. This is the second time Dean was taken from the hotel room, hell this whole thing started when he got out of the car to look for a tape. They're being hunted, Bobby-- by the supernatural and the hunting world."

"We've figured it out before and we'll figure it out again. All we've got left is the fight in us, John, and I for one am gonna show whatever son of a bitch that's out there that Sam and Dean aren't gonna go easily."

John's long time friend's words filled him with a strength he didn't think he had. Bobby had known the boys since they were young, had watched them grow, and John knew that the often gruff and closed off hunter considered Sam and Dean his own family. Bobby was right-- the only way those evils sons of bitches would get Sam and Dean was by walking over his dead body.

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Sam slid quietly around the corner of the building, the area around him fading in and out like a poorly tuned radio. Every instinct told him to fight it, to block out the powers. They belonged to a demon, they weren't something he was supposed to have, let alone use. No, he knew it was wrong, knew it had to be ignored, but there was still that voice in the back of his head. He could use this power to help his brother, give something back to the man that had given him everything for over two decades.

'You can save him.'

Sam knew it was true. Finally, he had the power to save his brother. For so long Dean had been the one to hold the family together, the one overlooked as Sam and John pushed forward, taking more and more from Dean with each passing day. But now, finally, Sam could do something about that.

The world around him came into focus with his new resolve, his senses heightening to levels he had never before felt. He could feel not only himself, but everyone around him. He knew his father and Bobby were there, the older men's adrenaline rushing through Sam, urging him on. And he could once again feel Dean, as though he was standing right next to his brother. Sam blinked several times, his mind shifting from the world before him to that in his mind. It was a surreal feeling to say the least, but it was helping him save his brother, and at that moment, that was all Sam could think about.

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Dean fell against the metal of the catwalk, his vision swimming as his body fought against itself. He cursed-- everything he had worked his entire life for was hanging in the balance, and he couldn't even find the strength to take a few steps. He could feel his entire life slipping away, his body aching as both fever and failure took over. After all he'd been through, after everything he and his family had fought, they were going to be taken down now, by something he should have been able to fight.

Dean laid still for a few moments, willing his body to respond, fighting against the darkness he knew was claiming him. Sam had already started to use the powers, Dean knew that the moment he felt Sam in the room with him, the moment he realized Sam wasn't exactly astral projecting. No, Sam was using the core of the powers the Asura had given him, and Dean knew it was just a matter of time before his little brother was lost to them forever.

Dean's heart froze in his chest when he felt the catwalk sway, the thump of boots hitting metal flooding into his fevered mind. The young hunter struggled to sit, leaning against one of the metal supports that held up the handrails. Dean strengthened his grip when he felt himself slide backwards. There was a good three feet of space between each support and he knew that, if he wasn't careful, he was going to fall right off the catwalk and into the shallow water below.

"Looks like you lose, Winchester." Marshal Williamson stood defiantly before Dean, his eyes growing with a strange hunger.

Dean had met him before on a few occasions, and he had once thought of the other hunter as a good man. But then, Dean had thought the same thing about Joshua and look where that had gotten him. If there was one thing the middle Winchester had learned in his short life it was that things were never what they appeared to be. It was a reality that had been plaguing his small family for the past year, something he hadn't been able to shake. People Dean had trusted his entire life had turned on him, threatened him, and changed Sam forever. And in that instant Dean knew, there was no one he could rely on other than his family.

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Marshal's blood raced with excitement, the hairs on his arms standing on end as adrenaline coursed through his body. He looked down on Dean, watching as the young hunter tried to force himself to his knees, his weak arms wrapped around one of the supporting metal beams. The older hunter didn't really know why he had such a loathing of Dean-- after all, he'd known the boy, and he wasn't a bad kid. He was just a hunter, just someone else mixed up in the mess that was good and evil.

'He'll destroy you. Turn your back on him and he'll kill you, just like Joshua. They're the reason they're dead, all of them. Caleb, Jim-- everyone is because of the Winchesters.'

Marshal knew the Iblis was right, knew what would happen if the Winchesters were allowed to go on the way they were. That single family had brought this all down on the hunting community, the least they could do was give Sam up for the cause. The boy had such a power inside him, a force that could be used for the greater good, but it was a force that would never be wielded as long as Dean stood in the way.

The crazed hunter smiled when he hear Sam's distant voice, the younger man calling out for his brother, searching for the man that had been his safety net for so long. Marshal advanced on Dean, his smile growing even wider when he saw the young man stare up at him defiantly. Dean had no fight left in him, Marshal could see that in the way his body slouched against the railing, but Dean's sharp green eyes told a completely different story. They were filled with a rage Marshal didn't think the young man before him possessed, Dean's soul burning through his moss green orbs, making one final stand, even though his body was beyond the fight.

"If you just let us have him, this will all be over," Marshal began smoothly, making his way to Dean with slow, patient steps. He had no need to rush, after all, Dean wasn't going anywhere.

"Over my dead body," Dean ground out.

Marshal had to give the boy credit. Here he was, half dead, his body over taken by infection, and he was still standing his ground, still fighting off any darkness that dare lay claim to his brother. It was admirable, and for an instant, Marshal was at a loss. The hunting world needed more people like Dean, hell the normal world needed him, too.

'He's an obstacle,' The Iblis spoke again, pulling Marshal back into the moment. 'He's too far gone to save. It's all about Sam now, he's the only chance you have. Dean's a lost cause. Too many years, too many missed chances. You can't fix the past, we're here to fix the future.'

Again, Marshal knew the demon was right, knew what had to be done. Dean's time had passed, and though the older hunter wasn't at all happy about the reality of what he was facing, he knew it was something that had to be done. He couldn't let them have Dean back, couldn't let Sam turn his back on the powers he possessed. No, too much was riding on the outcome of this single day.

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Sam rounded another corner, his eyes locked on the building before him, mind coming into focus when he saw what lay ahead. No more than two hundred meters ahead was a long metal catwalk, and there, halfway down it, was his brother, and he wasn't alone. Dean was leaning against a thin metal post, his body hanging precariously over the side of the catwalk-- Marshal Williamson advancing on him as Sam watched. The younger Winchester could feel Marshal's heart beat, the need to hunt running through him like electricity.

Sam could hear the words whispered on the wind as he made his way up to the building, his eyes never once leaving Dean. The words weren't meant for him, but Sam could hear them none the less. Something was pushing Marshal on, needling him-- and he and Dean were right in the middle of it. Sam pushed the voice away before he had a chance to really hear it, choosing instead to focus on his ailing brother. He could feel Dean's tired body, feel his grip on the cold metal bar loosen. The fall wasn't all the great, and the water wasn't all that deep, but Sam knew in Dean's current condition a short fall into shallow water could still be detrimental. And then, before Sam had a chance to react, Marshal bounced.

"Dean!" Sam screamed, but the entire world seemed to be beyond his reach.

The older hunter flew into Dean with a speed Sam didn't think a mortal man should possess. The youngest Winchester watched in horror as both his brother and Marshal fell into the water below-- his heart beat quickening when Marshal surfaced alone. Sam didn't know when he began to run, all he knew was that he needed to get to his brother, that he needed to save Dean. The scene unfolded before him in slow motion, his heart pounding with each step he took. He saw Dean splash a few times, his arms reaching up out of the water, feebly trying to push Marshal away-- but he never once came up for air.

Sam's entire world stopped when his brother ceased to move, Dean's arms falling back into the water as Marshal Williamson stood, a deranged smile plastered across his face. And, it was in that instant, that Sam Winchester lost all control.

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John broke into a dead sprint when he heard Sam call out to Dean. It was a scream, a cry made in pure desperation, and it struck John down to the core. He knew there was only one thing that could make his youngest son cry out like that-- something was seriously wrong with Dean. All the world fell away as John Winchester ran. He knew Bobby was behind him, racing to the boys with the same speed and determination, but John couldn't see him. All the senior Winchester knew was that his boys were in trouble, and at that moment, that was all his tired mind could focus on.

He was moments away from losing them, he could feel it deep in his bones. They'd dogged the bullet too many times, had come to the brink too often, and John was terrified that whatever luck his boys might have had was finally gone. John heard a loud splash before he made it around the corner, the sound only spurring him on. He could feel the wind growing as he ran, the weathered hunter knowing now that whatever powers Sam had been holding back had finally been unleashed.

The moment he turned the corner, he felt his blood run cold. The very air around him was charged, liked he'd walked through a wall of pure electricity-- and the moment he saw his youngest son, John knew why. Sam wasn't Sam anymore, and it broke down everything John was. His boy was standing about twenty feet from the edge of the lake, his body stiller than death, eyes locked on Marshal. And to the senior Winchester it was like deja vu all over again. He was back in Shadow Pine forest, back with the Asura, back at the side of the river.

He registered Bobby running past him, registered something in the water that had caught the other hunter's attention, but John's mind was completely taken by his youngest son. Marshal was standing before him, waist deep in the murky water, his body melting away as Sam looked at him. It was the Asura's power, of that John was certain, but, where the demon had been forced to wrap its very being around Joshua, Sam was accomplishing the same thing with nothing more than his mind. And it was at that moment that John was truly and utterly afraid, at that second he realized his youngest son was more powerful than a demon two millennia old.

The winds grew as Sam's anger spiked, his body nothing more than a shell for the powers inside it. Sam's soul, his essence, was gone, replaced by the otherworldly powers he didn't want. John pushed forward, thankful not to find the same barrier that had held him at bay when Dean was shot by the Trater girls.

Dean.

John's mind cleared in that instant, the hunter finally taking in the entire scene around him. Marshal was all but gone, the water around him bubbling as he melted into his liquid grave. John's eyes slowly moved past Marshal and Sam, focusing instead on Bobby. The other hunter was moving back through the water, his back to John, dragging something toward the beach. No, not something, he was dragging Dean back toward the beach.

John raced into the lake, grabbing Dean's legs as Bobby held onto his arms. The boy was a mess, his skin pale, lips blue, body heavier and stiller than John could ever imagine. They laid him on the beach, the pair beginning CPR on Dean's lifeless body. John could still hear Marshal's final screams, but they sounded like they were coming from a great distance, another life. But the senior Winchester didn't care, his eldest son was laying in front of him, his heart still, breathing silent-- but he wasn't dead, he couldn't be. John Winchester would not allow it.

"You."

John's entire body froze at the voice, his heart hammering in his chest when he felt the air around him still. He turned slowly to face his youngest son, the storm dying down the closer Sam got to him. It was almost like his youngest had constructed a barrier around himself, blocking out everything that could effect him, shutting out the entire world before it could hurt him.

"You did this to him."

Sam's eyes were still his own brown, but they were hollow, empty of everything that made Sam Sam. He took another menacing step toward John, the older hunter's skin prickling as his son's power hit him.

"Sammy, please."

"You made us into what we are." The voice that issued from Sam wasn't quite his own. It still sounded like him, but it was deeper than it should have been, the words hitting John as though he'd been physically punched.

"I was trying to save you," John breathed, standing slowly despite the pain. Sam was attacking him, and a part of John knew he deserved it. Bobby was still trying to bring Dean back, but even if he could, it was still too late. Over twenty years ago John had been given perfection, and now it was all lying in ruins around him.

"You destroyed him."

'Him,' John thought, 'not us.' With gut wrenching clarity, John understood. Sam was still trying to protect Dean, to save his brother, and while John had never physically hurt his eldest, he'd put him through enough emotional torture to last three life times. And Sam saw that.

"Sammy, please, I know you're still in there. I know you can fight this."

"I know I can, too."

"You don't want to do this."

"You'll just hurt him again. I can fix this."

"I know you can, Sam. But I wanna fix this, too. Please, son, I'm begging you, give me the chance to be you're father."

"I've given you enough chances."

"I know you have."

"Give me one good reason to let you stay?"

"I don't want you to ruin yourself because of me. I don't want you to destroy your soul because of the mistakes I made. God, Sam, I'm so damn sorry. But you're better than this. And I swear, I'll leave. If that's what you really want, I'll go."

John's heart shattered into a thousand pieces when the winds began to die down, the electricity and fire that had been running through him mere moments before disappearing as the world around him calmed. That was it, he'd lost them. He'd promised to stay away, to turn around and never look back, and it appeared as though Sam was going to hold him to that promise. It was like watching them die, like watching Mary die all over again.

Everything he'd ever fought for was vanishing before his eyes, being taken away from him by the people he loved most. It was something John knew he'd never be able to handle, but it was something he also had no control over. And maybe Sam was right, maybe they were better off without him around. Lord knew Dean was a wreck, and Sam didn't seem to be in much better shape.

A sudden cough pulled John from his spiraling mind, the winds finally dying completely as Sam snapped back into himself, the sound of his brother breathing enough to silence whatever was happening inside him. The two rushed to Bobby and Dean, the family friend holding the middle Winchester up against his chest. Dean looked terrible, and while he was now breathing, John knew he was far from safe.

"He needs a hospital," John spoke solemnly, cupping Dean's face in his hands. For the first time in a long time, though, it wasn't an order. He looked up into Sam's face, his dark eyes imploring, and broken. If he had to give them up to keep them alive, then so be it.