I am just overwhelmed once again for the support I have received on this story! You all are the absolute best. And to all of you who comment each day, thank you sooooooo much! Your words are heaven to me! Anyway, here is the next chapter for you all. We're almost done with only three chapters left. Enjoy.

Cindy.

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Three Weeks Later-Scottsbluff Nebraska

"Umpff..." Dean landed hard on his back, gasping as the wind was knocked out of him. He rolled to his knees and pushed himself to his feet. Dizziness washed over him and he placed his hand on a nearby tombstone to steady himself. "Son of a bitch!" he hissed.

He was tired of being tossed around like a rag doll all night and wished Bobby would just hurry the hell up and get the friggin' bones salted and burned. He wanted to get this job done and get back to Sam.

"Bobby! Anytime you want to get this bitch's bones burned I'm all for it!" Dean shouted then was sent flying again. "Fuck!"

"You okay Dean?" Bobby yelled over the spirit's enraged wailing.

"Just burn the fucking bones already!" Dean shouted back.

Dean was pulled up from the ground and was about to be sent hurdling into a tree when the spirit let out a bloodcurdling screech, then disappeared in a flash. Dean dropped to the ground and lay there, too winded to get up. Bobby soon appeared to help him up.

"Nice of you to just lay around while I do all the work!" Bobby quipped, pulling Dean up.

"Next time, I get to salt and burn and you get to play with the ghost, asshole!" Dean hissed.

Bobby laughed and helped the battered hunter to the open grave. They waited until the fire had died out before starting the labor intensive task of filling the grave in again. Once all the dirt had been replaced, they gathered their duffel bags together and walked tiredly back to the Impala. Once they stowed their gear in the trunk they climbed into the car and drove out of the cemetery. Dean sped down the road, rushing to get back to the cabin they had rented over a week ago. Sam was there alone and that made Dean very nervous.

He had tried to get Sam to come along, but his brother had balked at the idea. Sam had been falling deeper and deeper into depression and Dean had just wanted to get him out of the cabin. Sam had barely been eating. He slept all the time, although he always looked exhausted and haggard. When he wasn't sleeping, he either laid in bed staring at the ceiling or sat on the sofa staring at the wall. Both Dean and Bobby tried repeatedly to draw him into their conversations, but he only withdrew further into himself. He refused to wear the brace that Dr. Ameche had given him to help provide stability to his damaged hand. The brace only reminded him of his uselessness.

Dean was completely lost as to what to do for his brother. He had tried to get Sam on the laptop to help with research but Sam had just turned and went to bed, an empty look in his eyes. Dean could feel Sam slipping away more every day and was terrified of losing him. Sam had already dropped at least twenty pounds and on his tall, lean frame, it was horribly noticeable. He looked gaunt and ill.

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and barely held back the tears that threatened to fall. Sam was slowly killing himself and Dean felt helpless to stop it.

"I'm losing him Bobby," Dean said softly, a hitch in his voice.

"Huh? What Dean?" Bobby asked as he was pulled from his own tortured thoughts.

"I'm losing him. He's dying right in front of me and I can't do anything about it."

"Dean, he'll come out of it eventually. We just need to keep working on him."

"He's wasting away. He doesn't eat, he sleeps all the time but doesn't ever look rested. You see him Bobby. You see what's happening to him. I think I..."

"What Dean? You think you what?"

"I think he needs help; help that I can't give him. He thinks he's worthless because he can't use his hand. He thinks he's not whole. I've tried Bobby. You've tried. He won't believe us that he can overcome this."

"Do you really think he would see someone about this? He won't talk to us, what makes you think he'd talk to a complete stranger?"

"I don't know what to do!!!" Dean shouted, hammering his fist on the dashboard.

Bobby shook his head as he looked at his young comrade. He was torn up inside, watching Sam slowly fade away, and Dean helpless to stop it. He was as lost as Dean in trying to help the youngest member of their family. He spent every night praying for a miracle. But every day he watched as they lost a little bit more of their Sammy. It had been ages since they had seen the smile that lit up the room or heard the laugh that made their hearts soar. Sam had become an empty shell. Bobby found it hard to believe that Sam's decline was due solely to the loss of his hand. He felt deeply that Sam had finally been pushed over the edge by this last trauma. He felt Sam's condition was a result of a culmination of all the trauma and tragedy he had suffered in his young life. He was hard pressed to come up with a solution to help Sam recover from years of trauma.

They finally pulled up to their cabin and Dean turned off the ignition. He sat there, not making a move to get out of the car. He wanted to go in and make sure Sam was safe, but was loathe to see the emptiness in Sam's eyes. He finally pushed the door open and climbed from the car. Bobby took his cue and also exited the car. They walked up the path to the front door then stepped into the cabin. The scene that met them stopped them dead in their tracks. They both pulled their guns and aimed them to the center of the room.

"What are you doing to my brother!" Dean shouted, fury raging through him instantly.

Sam was on his knees in the middle of the floor. His head was flung back, his eyes wide open but unseeing. He didn't flinch when Dean yelled, never acknowledging that he was aware of Dean's or Bobby's presence. His arms were outstretched in front of him, his hands being held by the person whom Dean and Bobby had their weapons trained on. A faint light emanated from the man and flowed over Sam.

The man was tall and lean. He had light hair, almost white, but he was young. He slowly turned his head and smiled at Dean and Bobby.

"Do not fear me. I mean him no harm," he said softly.

"How did you get in here? How did you cross the salt line?" Dean asked, assuming the man to be a demon. He glanced at Sam, who had not moved or made even the slightest sound. "What are you doing to him?!"

"I am helping him. I am not a demon Dean. Your symbols and protections have no effect on me."

Dean attempted to step forward, but found he couldn't move. Bobby tried, but with the same result.

"Get away from my brother or I will kill you!" Dean seethed.

"I cannot be killed. I am not your enemy. I am here to help Samuel."

Dean and Bobby attempted once more to move to Sam, but were held in place by an unseen force. The man turned back to Sam, his lips moving but his words unheard. Dean and Bobby watched helplessly as the light emanating from the man grew in intensity until they could no longer see him or Sam.

Suddenly the light dissapated. It took a moment for Dean and Bobby's eyes to adjust to the sudden change. When they could see again, they both gasped in unison as they saw Sam slumped on the floor, unmoving. They ran to him, both darting their eyes around the room, looking for the man who had seemingly disappeared into thin air. They reached Sam and both fell to their knees on either side of the fallen young man. Dean gently rolled Sam to his back. He placed his fingers to the side of Sam's neck and breathed a sigh of relief when he found a strong, steady pulse. He softly patted Sam's cheek, trying to wake him.

"Hey Sammy, wake up. You're playmate is gone now. Wake up for me Sam," Dean pled.

Dean looked at Bobby, panic in his eyes when Sam remained as he was. Bobby did a quick check of the boy.

"I think he's okay Dean. He seems to just be sleeping," Bobby said, trying to ease Dean's fears.

"Why isn't he waking up?"

"He hasn't had a peaceful sleep in weeks Dean. He's exhausted. This is probably a good thing. Help me get him up on the bed."

Dean nodded and helped Bobby lift Sam from the floor. They carried him to the far corner where the beds were and gently placed him on one. Dean pulled the covers up over him then planted himself on the bed next to him. He reached over and felt Sam's forehead and was relieved to find it cool to the touch. Bobby pulled a chair up to the other side of the bed and stared at Sam's peaceful face. He moved his gaze to Dean.

"What the hell just happened Bobby?" Dean asked softly.

"I don't know Dean."

Both men kept vigil that night, neither one willing to leave their post. Dean unconsciously pulled Sam's right hand into his own and never let go the entire night.

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Well, there it is. A little twist for you all! Please let me know how I'm doing. Love to you all!

Cindy.