++++++ I do not own Supernatural or any affiliated characters apart from my OC. Rayne Murphy and Dylan Singer belong to Jazzy-Winchester and Hunter's Angel ++++++

Twenty-Eight

I had been engaging in a fight with Crowley and everything seemed to be going well until Sam grabbed me and threw me through the paper thin wall into the next room. I rolled along the ground and slammed up hard against some kind of wooden wall that circled the room.

When I picked myself up I saw that this was some kind of auditorium-makes you wonder what they used to do in here doesn't it? "I'm not gonna fight you Sam," I coughed.

"You're making this hard on yourself," Sam pointed out.

"The only one that's making this hard is you!" I snapped. "You're the one that's drinking Crowley's blood and making this hard on both of us." I inched myself towards the door, "you said you loved me Sam but this-what we're doing is wrong. You said that you would be my prince charming-lame I know-but you promised that you would be there for me. Remember Sam?"

Sam stayed silent.

"I am and always will be the optimist, the hoper of far-flung hopes, and the dreamer of improbable dreams," I whispered. "You were that kids who clapped to save the fairy when she died. Remember?"

Silence.

"When we first met, you stood up to Crowley for me," I pointed out. "You didn't care that he was my father, all you wanted to do was protect me."

"Forget it, Hale," Crowley smirked as he came in through the me sized hole in the wall, "it's not going to work. There's more demon blood in the Jolly Green than there is normal blood. He aint going to hear anything you prattle on about."

I paused. Crowley was right. Pompous ass. "I'm still not going to fight him," I grumbled, "but you, I'll have no worries about hurting." I flung him up against the wall with all my strength and ran from the room, grabbing my angel blade as I ran. I ran down a flight of stairs straight into Dean and Bobby.

"Hale! Hale!" Dean shouted. "It's ok. Where's Sam?"

"Oh Melinda," Sam shouted in a sing-song voice. His voice echoed down through the empty rooms. "You're just postponing the inevitable." He came slowly down the stairs and stopped in front of the three of us. "Well look who it is," he smirked. "The hybrid, the brother with the daddy issues and the old drunk. Welcome to the party."

"Sammy stop!" Dean ordered, lowering his gun and the demon knife. "This isn't you!"

"I've already tried it," I told Dean. "He's not listening anymore."

Dean ignored me and approached Sam slowly. "Sammy, it's your brother…come on…come back home."

Sam stared at Dean defiantly. "I am home, Dean. Crowley's given me more of a home than anyone ever has."

"No he hasn't," I whispered, desperate enough to try pulling memories out of Sam's head. "Sam…do you remember when you were eight years old and you found out your dad was a hunter? Dean told you that John was a superhero, you believed him. That was the year you gave him the pendent that was meant for your dad."

"Stop it!" Sam snapped.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean urged him.

"When you were twelve, you won a Division Championship Soccer trophy which John had in his lock-up," I reminded him. "When you were fifteen, you and Dean set off a box full of fireworks in an empty field, almost burning the field down." I could feel something warm running out of my noise now, when I lifted my hand up, I realised that it was blood. "Sam-you're never more at home than you are when you're with you brother. You say that you're home but you're not. Home isn't four walls and a roof…it's the impala where you spend your time hunting with Dean, saving people over and over again. It may be a thankless task but you're with your family. Home is where your family is. Not with that jackass."

Sam stared silently at me and shook his head. "Hale?" he whispered. He glanced at Dean. "Wait-what's going on? Where are we? Bobby?"

I paused. "Sam? Are you-"

"Sammy?" Dean gasped.

"I feel funny," he murmured. "Hale-" Sam stumbled and grabbed the wall. "My head feels-"

I rubbed the blood from my nose and walked over to him, my head felt like it was about to explode. I'd never dove willingly into someone's head before but what I saw inside Sam Winchester was so much good that it pained me to see him infected with all that blood. "Are you ok?" I whispered cupping his face.

The moment I got close enough to him, his face changed. "I'm fine," he smirked before he stabbed me.

I felt like all the air had left my body at once. I looked down as a cold shiver ran through my whole body to see witch knife sticking out of my stomach. It was very sudden, like an electric shock or a static shock even. Sam looked me in the eyes for what seemed like an eternity then he wrenched the knife out. That was when the pain kicked in. It hit me almost immediately, like a sharp, shooting pain throughout my entire body. My first instinct was to cover the stab wound with my hand but the warmer it got, the more my blood seemed to rush out of my body. Reaching out, I grabbed Sam's shoulders for support as my legs started to give way.

Sam dropped the knife on the ground, seconds later, I joined it. I fell down on the ground with a thud, hitting my head with an almighty crack.

"Hale?" Bobby shouted, sliding down to the ground. He pushed his hand up against the wound just as Rayne burst in through the side door, her eyes a dark, blood red colour. The cocktail of my blood and Thomas's blood as well as Crowley's blood had enabled Rayne to come in the back door without being noticed. Rayne had been responsible for breaking the Enochian wards on the sanitorum so that the angels could get it. She was littered with small dots and splashes of blood. Her eyes returned to normal and she rushed over to Dean and Bobby.

"Where's Sam?" Rayne demanded to know.

"Through there!" Bobby pointed. I didn't know where he was pointing…everything was starting to feel slow…like my life was on a very, very, very slow fast forward. "Dylan! Cas!" he shouted.

Rayne knelt down beside me and checked my wound. "Fuck," she swore. "Why aren't you healing?" She picked up the knife and stared at it, "witchcraft!" Rayne spat. "Witches are fucking skeevy! Hang on Melinda! Come on Dean!"

I closed my eyes and listened as two sets of feet took off at a run. "Bobby?" I gasped.

"Yeah I'm here girl," Bobby replied.

"Don't hurt him…" I whispered.

"Don't speak," he ordered. "Save your strength."

I laughed and it ended in a series of coughing fits. "That's such a cliché," I finally spat out. "Bobby...will you stay with me? I don't...I don't wanna die alone..."

"Where are you two god dang angels?" Bobby shouted.

"Bobby?" I called out again.

My vision was starting to get a little dark and blurry.

I couldn't hear anything.

Closing my eyes again I could feel my breathing getting shallow.

It's funny…I had certainly expected to die in a shitty hallway with paint peeling off the walls and rats crawling on the ground and in the walls.

What I hadn't expected was for someone to be holding my hand the entire time…