Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, or the characters, and chances are that I never will.

Thanks so much to everyone who read and reviewed the last chapter!

Wow! I can't believe that my little dream scene fooled almost all of you. I really thought it was obvious, but aparently I'm a better writer than I thought, not like that is saying much. And rest assured that the happy ending you're all begging for is still many twists away.

Enjoy!

Present time

"You don't know what it's like, Dean." Sam said jadedly, keeping his eyes fixed on the view out of the side window. "You don't know."

After their conversation, Sam and Dean continued on in silence until they reached a truck stop just north of Des Moines, Iowa. Dean filled the impala's tank with fuel before pulling around to the roadhouse style diner. As Dean stepped out of the car, and moved tediously slowly to the back door to grab his wheelchair, he could go longer without it now, but the pain of the fractures still plagued him when he was standing for a long time or walking, he glanced back at where Sam was only now starting to get out of the car. This has to work, it just has to, I can't let him keep doing this to himself.

After a minute Sam joined Dean as he was walking, or wheeling as the case may be, into the diner. "Where're we going anyway, Dean? Do you have a plan, or are we just going to go in circles?"

Dean had already given this matter much thought, and ultimately it had come down to a conversation he'd had with his father several days before. "Pastor Jim's" Dean replied as he moved through the door Sam had opened for him. Maybe he'll be able to get through to Sammy. He has to, I don't know what else to do, he won't listen to me.

"Oh, okay." Sam replied softly as he followed Dean into the diner, where they sat and ate dinner in almost complete silence, before getting back on the road.

Jim was working in his study, in the early hours of the next morning, when he heard the roar of the impala's engine as it pulled into the front of his house. When he had gotten the call from John two days ago, pleading for help, Jim knew that a visit would be sure to follow.

He hadn't seen the Winchester's in nearly a year, and though he had heard through some hunters he'd helped a couple of months back, that John Winchester's youngest had cancer, until he'd spoken to John, heard the hardened hunter breaking down to him about everything that's been happening, Sam's got cancer, practically refusing to eat, and not sleeping, and is on the verge of getting put into hospital because he's worn himself down so much, and on top of that, Dean's been stuck in a wheelchair for two months, after a hunting accident.

Jim stood up, and walked out of his study and out to the front verandah to meet the Winchesters. He watched as Dean pulled himself out of the drivers seat, and to the back to get his wheelchair out which he then sat down in, before moving towards the passenger side to where Sam was too getting out of the Impala.

As they moved towards the pastor, one thought prevailed. They look so different, so tired.

And it was true, Dean especially looked very tired, haggard, and so much older than his twenty-one years. And of course Sam, leaning heavily on crutches, his leg wrapped in a bright blue brace, a plain bandanna covering his obviously bald head, and his whole body, the way he stood, the way he moved, betraying his fatigue and illness.

Once the pair reached Jim, he greeted them warmly, despite his shock. "Sam, Dean, it's good to see you. Come on in."

Just after lunch, of which Sam had eaten little of, and excused himself well before Dean and Jim had finished their own meals, Dean went to search out Sam, and as he searched the house and the adjoining church, it quickly became apparent that Sam was nowhere nearby.

"Damn it, Sammy!" Dean shouted out in frustration as he searched in vain.

Jim, who Dean had enlisted to help search, eventually found Sam sitting on the banks of a small dam at the back of his property, Sam didn't even look up at the pastor as he walked over and sat down beside him.

"You gave me and your brother a fright, Sam. You know you shouldn't disappear like that." Jim said, there was no real harshness behind his words, he was too relieved that the youngest Winchester was safe to be angry at him.

Sam shrugged, keeping his glance down at the still water nearby.

"I was speaking to Dean earlier, he's really very worried about you, Sam. I have seen people with cancer before, and I know that if they don't really want to recover, they can't get through the treatment." Jim said softly before he carefully continued. "He said that a friend you met at the hospital died, you lost a friend. I won't even pretend to understand what that was like for you, but think about what you're doing, you're going to put your father and Dean through the same thing."

"Shut up! You don't know what you're talking about!" Sam exclaimed, turning to face the older man.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I'm not trying to upset you." Jim said calmly.

Neither Sam nor Jim spoke for several long minutes, then.

"You loved her." Jim said as realisation hit him. How could he have missed it?!
Sam finally looked up at Jim, and replied. "It hurts so much, Pastor. I really… I loved her. And it hurts so much, I just want to die too."

Sam's confession shocked Jim, but he remained silent as he pulled Sam into a comforting hug, as Sam broke down.

Jim sat there, listening to Sam cry over his lost love for nearly an hour, before he could so much as convince Sam to come back into the house with him.

Later that afternoon, once Sam had calmed down, and Jim had had time to speak with Dean about what Sam had said, Dean made his way to the small bedroom where Sam was still lying on the bed. Tears streaked his face, and the expression of devastation that his face bore broke Dean's heart, as he lifted himself out of his wheelchair to sit down beside his younger brother on the bed.

"Sam." Dean said quietly, to draw Sam's attention.

It worked; Sam looked up at Dean wearily a moment later. "What do you want, Dean?"

"I don't know, Sam. What do you think I want?" Dean quipped.

Sam knew exactly what he wanted, he wanted to hear that he'd stop being depressed, fight the disease with everything he has, but he also knew that in his heart, that wouldn't happen.

"Talk to me, Sam." Dean implored, his tone tired and defeated; hearing that his baby brother wanted to die was torturing him.

"It just hurts, Dean. I just want it to stop, I can't do it." Sam admitted, tears once again filling his eyes.

TBC...

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