As rough as he felt, Sam couldn't stop smiling. When the minister asked for the rings, he handed them to Danny with shaking hands that weren't even stilled by the groom's reassuring wink.

Poor Danny looked like he was going to pass out at any moment - so bad, in fact, that Dean had inconspicuously changed places with Sam just in case the youngest Ritter really did go down.

And Jaime, Jaime was just beautiful. Strike that - the young vet was beautiful on a good day. Today, she was simply stunning. Her simple, white lace dress stopped just above her knees, and she wore a small white daisy behind her left ear. In her hands she carried a draping bunch of white lilacs, tied together with a yellow ribbon. High up on her thigh she wore a concealed weapon - one of Ron's old handguns, and none of the men could talk her out of it. Since returning home, she'd cajoled Danny into giving her shooting lessons, saying she just had a bad feeling she couldn't shake.

In spite of her fears, however, today she positively glowed.

Sam had heard that old adage before, about women on their wedding day, but until today, he'd never really understood it.

Even Ron looked like a satisfied cat that had just feasted on a canary. The relief the family felt at having Jaime back in the fold was palpable, and Sam had the fleeting thought that he'd endure these past, painful weeks all over again if it meant this happy of an ending for these friends he thought of as family.

As the ceremony concluded, Dean moved around behind him and grasped the handles of his wheelchair.

"Ready for some food there, Sammy?" He asked, practically rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Sam shook his head, smiling. "Wanna go change first. I'm dying in this heat."

"Sounds good. I'm in."

Dean cut out around the crowd that was still thronging around the happy couple. "Can't make it back to the house in this crowd. The apartment it is." he offered.

"Just anywhere that's cool, please."

"You got it, Samantha."

Dean parked the chair at the bottom of the steps and followed his brother up. At the top of the stairs, they left the door open behind them, as always. Sam moved into the bedroom as Dean moved to crank up the air conditioner. He turned, grinning, "I think I see a whole table full of pie down there, Sammy."

But his grin froze on his face when his turn brought him face to face with William. The older man's eyes were wild, and his arm was around Sam's waist. To his brother's neck he held an electric stud welder.

"I told you I'd take care of your kid brother." William volunteered. "You should have believed me."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "And I told you he was my responsibility. Let him go." Dean's eyes flicked to his brother's. "Sammy, you okay?"

"Peachy, Dean." Sam returned in code, meaning - "Yeah, need a little help here."

Dean advanced, his eyes cold. He'd so had it with these sick bastards hurting his brother. "You're not gonna touch him, you hear me? You hurt one hair on his head, and I'll end you myself."

William swallowed hard, backing up. He dragged Sam with him, but the stud welder was the small, handheld kind that used a cable connected to a box that plugged into the wall, and his field of movement was limited.

"Stop. Right there. I loaded it. It's got a pin in it. It's live when I pull the trigger, Dean. People die from accidents with these things all the time." He depressed the trigger and the tool let out a sick sizzle. He smiled."Right up against his neck, Dean." He gestured with the gun to the side of Sam's already bruised neck. "Right here if you don't back off."

Dean stopped, seething. "What the fuck do you want, you sick sonofabitch?" His eyes flicked from William's insane ones to his brother's terrified ones, and the rage he felt down deep began to surface.

William shrugged. "I want this little bitch dead. He's been a pain in my ass for too long." He smiled evilly, "And I want you to watch." He lowered the tool.

"Dean!" Sam yelped.

Dean leaped forward with a yell, crashing into the pair and knocking them all into the window that looked out over the wedding. Glass shattered and rained down on the gravel below. Both Dean and Sam had their hands on William's where it held the deadly tool, but the man had the strength of insanity on his side.

Sam lay pinned on his back on the floor, William on top of him and Dean on top of William. The tool inched closer and closer to Sam's face, and the younger boy tried to twist his head away as it approached.

"Dean!" He yelled again out of reflex.

"Sammy! Hang on!" Dean tossed three punches to William's gut, but they had no effect at all. He moved both hands to the stud welder, trying to yank the cable out of the box or the box out of the wall, but the tool was guarded against just such an accident with connectors that screwed into place.

"Get off my brother, you … you weak-minded asshole!" Dean threatened through gritted teeth.

But William giggled - the sick bastard fucking giggled. "Better get off me, Dean, or you're going to hell with us." He depressed the trigger just two inches away from Sam's face.

And Dean knew then, there was no reasoning with the man who was willing to die to see Sammy dead too.

The shot, when it came, was deafening in the small room. One moment they were wrestling with a madman on the rough board floors of the room over the garage, and the next, Dean was rocked back from the impact of a gunshot blast. He landed on his butt on the floor, stud welder still clasped tightly in his hand, his face and front covered in … William.

He looked up at the door in shock to see Jaime standing there with Ron's old .45. The cold look of hatred on her face a sharp contrast to her dress and the flower in her hair. In her small hands, the gun looked forbiddingly huge. On the floor, Sam shoved the remains of the man who'd tried to kill him away and twisted his head backward to see who'd saved his life.

Dean was on his feet, stumbling over William's remains and moving to help Sam up in an instant. Together, they approached the young woman who stood shaking, trembling hands still outstretched and pointing the weapon at William's corpse.

"Jaime," Sam breathed, as Dean gently reached out a hand and captured the gun from her numb fingers.

She looked up at the sound of Sam's voice saying her name and met the taller man's eyes. Her own eyes filled with tears and her body began quaking. She tried to explain.

"H-he w-was going t-to … Sam! H-he would h-have … I had to! I h-had to!" She babbled.

"Shhh." Sam pulled her close, his suit somehow still free from debris. "Shhh. Jaime, it's okay."

Galloping steps on the stairs revealed a pale and terrified Danny. He skidded to a stop in the doorway, taking in Dean covered in blood, the dead man on the floor and his sobbing wife in Sam's arms.

"Jaime!" He breathed. "Jai, what happened? Are you okay?" His eyes looked to Sam's for explanation.

Sam nodded, smiling through tears of his own. "She's fine, Danny. She's okay." He transferred the distraught bride into her husband's arms and turned to look at his brother. Dean was a macabre sight - covered nearly head-to-toe in a fine spray of blood.

"Weak-minded asshole, Dean?" Sam asked, his mouth twitching.

"I had other things on my mind, okay?" Dean made excuse, eyes sweeping his brother's thin frame head to toe. "You okay?"

Sam smiled, "Yeah, man, I'm good."

Dean grinned and held out his arms, "Hug?"

Sam backed away in horror. And when Dean advanced, chuckling evilly, he ran.