A/N: A huge THANKS to all of you who have stuck with this story for this long! I know that it was kind of a bumpy ride, but we made it. :)

Also, just saying that I wrote this chapter a long time ago, before the ending aired, and reading back through it hit a little too close to home in some spots... Right now was NOT the time to be writing about season three.

Chapter Nine

Dean never took his foot off the peddle as he raced down the mountain, and only slowed the car briefly when risked a glance down at Sam. The white bandages had already become soaked with red and Dean's stomach dropped. Tentatively removing his stabilizing grip on Sam's shoulder, he began to apply pressure, praying to a God that he didn't believe in that this would work.

Maddie leaned forward, her face pale but determined. "I can do that, keep both hands on the wheel."

Dean hesitated, before nodding and Maddie leaned over the seat, applying firm pressure with both of her hands.

With what had to be a record time, they were skidding to a stop outside of the bay of the Emergency Room. Apparently, tire squealing and brake screeching entrances were not a norm for this small town as Dean hadn't even finished steadying the car to a complete stop before a curious nurse was poking her head out the sliding doors.

Dean locked eyes with her desperately through the windshield.

Something there must have connected for her mouth fell open into a small 'o' and then she turned, saying something over her should before ducking out into the early afternoon sun. Pulling open Sam's door, her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped fully open as she took in the amount of blood covering both Sam and the car.

"I've got two injured here," Dean snapped, already twisting in his seat so that he could apply more thorough pressure to Sam's side, allowing Maddie to sink back into her seat. The fabric was saturated and there was too much blood to be able to tell if Sam was still bleeding, but if he was…

At least Sam was still breathing, his chest moving weakly against Dean's leg, and for that he was grateful.

The nurse squeezed into the front seat, straddling Sam as she began to check his vitals. A few other nurses had flocked outside and she began to give crisp orders. Within minutes, Maddie had been loaded onto a gurney and whisked away, giving her only a brief moment to latch onto Dean and whisper a sincere 'thank you'.

Dean managed a brief nod, but his attention had been focused on supporting Sam's head and shoulders as he worked with the nurses to ease his brother out of the car and onto the second gurney. A second nurse had taken over apply pressure while yet another secured an oxygen mask over Sam's face before slipping a blood pressure cuff onto his arm.

"What are we looking at?" A doctor had also appeared somehow, and his face was pinched with concern. Dean barely glanced up as he concentrated on stepping out of the car.

"Stab wound with heavy bleeding and a high risk of infection. We were attacked yesterday but I didn't have any supplies to treat it with." Dean gently laid Sam's head down as the doctor cursed under his breath and then they were moving. Dean's hand curled around the edge of the metal, jogging alongside it in an unsteady gait.

Had it really only been yesterday that everything had gone to the dogs? The doctor and the nurses were already exchanging suspicious looks and Dean quickly pulled the sympathy card, having learned it was better to feed people information than let them guess amongst themselves.

"You know how people have been disappearing?" He stopped when he saw their eyes widening as they put two and two together and their faces softened. Fighting the urge to snort, he let go of the gurney and wrapped his hand around Sam's lax one instead.

They had hardly come to a stop in a curtained-off room before Sam was being cut out of his clothes and an IV started. Dean shrank back into the corner as the doctors swarmed his brother and tried to look as small and unobtrusive as he could. EKGs and other monitors were being attached to Sam's chest and numbers began to flicker to life on the screen above the bed. Dean leaned forward, reading them carefully and feeling his heart drop as each vital presented itself.

"C'mon…" he hissed under his breath, twisting his fingers together.

"Sir, excuse me."

Dean tried to ignore the nurse but the man persisted, stepping into Dean's view and blocking his sight of Sam as he took ahold of his arm firmly.

"Sir, how about you let me have a look at you. You don't look so good yourself and trust me when I saw that they are going to take care of your…?"

"Brother. Sam's my brother."

"Alright, they are going to take good care of Sam, I promise, so let's just…let's just give them some space. Okay?"

Dean raised his head, glaring intensely at the older man in front of him but it didn't appear to faze him at all. "I'm not five, you don't need to make me promises that you can't keep," Dean protested but the nurse still had that emphatic look on his face. He took Dean's arm, leading him away and into a different section of the hospital. A curtain was drawn around them and Dean glanced up but the nurse only smiled kindly at him before gesturing to a small sink.

"You'll feel better once you've washed up."

Dean glanced down at his hands, at the blood-encrusted in his fingernails and the lines of his palms and thoroughly agreed. Running the water as hot as it would go, Dean began to scrub ferociously, desperate to remove Sam's blood from his skin. Pink water swirled down the drain but it wasn't enough, the blood was still covering his shirt, his jeans, his face. It was everywhere.

The nurse pulled him gently away from the sink. "You're clean, you're good, buddy." He was handed a towel and he took it absentmindedly and moved to leave the curtained off area but the nurse blocked his path, his face once again breaking into that smile.

Dean had never felt more like murdering someone, but the nurse only held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Josh. What's your name?"

Dean blinked in surprise and tried to decide if it would be quicker to knock the man—Josh—out or answer his questions.

"Dean," he finally said grudgingly, crossing his arms tightly around his chest. "Now, if you'll just excuse me—"

"Woah, hold up there, Dean. You're bleeding pretty good yourself. Let me patch you up. Besides, I think it's gonna be a while before they finish up with Sam. We might as well use our time wisely."

Dean made a face, glancing back through the curtain and in the direction that Sam was but Josh's hand was firm on his arm. Dean had the feeling that he didn't actually have a choice in the matter and he somehow doubted that getting kicked out of the ER would help him see Sam any sooner.

They were in deep enough as it was having crashed the hospital covered in blood and clear signs of an extremely violent altercation. The cops would have to get involved and that was a whole other headache that Dean didn't want to deal with. Better not to get kicked out of the ER just yet.

He sat silently through the brief examination and the painful application of a few stitches just under his left eye and across his cheek They were just finishing up when someone knocked softly and entered.

Josh looked up, smiling slightly. "Emily, what can we do for you?"

Emily was gripping a pile of papers and she pulled a nearby stool over, sitting across from Dean with a serious expression on her face. Pulling the rollaway table over, she laid them out, offering Dean a pen that he dazedly took.

"You're Sam's ICE contact, correct? Good. They want to send Sam into surgery, but they need permission—" she began but Dean was already nodding. It wasn't surprising, not really, not even if it made him want to hurl.

"Just show me where to sign."

Emily nodded, pointed out to the dottle lines at the bottom of the page and Dean signed with an unreadable scribble, his hand trembling slightly. Emily offered him a gentle smile as she collected the papers.

By the time that a pair of scrubs had been rounded up for Dean, replacing his blood and sweat-soaked clothing, the cops had sure enough shown up and Dean forced himself to sit through the long (and somewhat fake) story of how he and Sam had simply been hiking when they had come across Maddie and her attacker.

Maddie, he could only hope, would be able to figure out that she shouldn't be telling the truth. Sam would know instinctively what to do had he been in a condition to do so and the thought made Dean cringe and glance back of his shoulder at the ER. There was still no word on Sam and it made the coffee that Josh had forced on him taste stale. After the promise that the officers would update them with more once they knew more, Dean found himself in a semi-private waiting room up near surgery. It was getting close to 10'oclock, almost five hours after they had come barreling in but it was another hour before the doctor called his name and Dean could cease his endless pacing.

"How's Sam?" he asked without preamble, folding his arms tightly across his chest and straightening to his full height as if that would ward off anything bad that the doctor was going to say. The doctor, this time a woman whose name tag read Keller, ducked her head slightly, glancing through the file she was holding before gesturing to a small grouping of chairs over in the corner.

Dean squeezed his fist shut, trying hard not to lash out and hurry Dr. Keller along and followed behind with gritted teeth. Dr. Keller sat down and Dean followed suit.

"Sam is a fighter," she began with a tight smile as she pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose. Dean held his breath, bracing himself for the 'but' that was sure to follow. "But his injury was severe and he lost a lot of blood…" She trailed off for a moment, a small frown creasing her face.

"But he's still alive, right?" Dean blurted out, his hands clenching and unclenching in his jeans.

"Yes, yes, he is," Dr. Keller was quick to confirm and gave Dean another of those small smiles before digging through the files that she held. All the air went out of Dean's lungs and he slumped back, running a hand over his face, stopping with his palm covering his mouth as the doctor presented a chart to him.

"There are two—well, three—concerns that we are currently keeping an eye on. The first one we have already addressed for the moment. The wound was not pretty, with clear signs of additional damage but from what we can piece together, the knife entered Sam's left side right here," She paused, leaning over and indicting with a pen a spot on just below the laminated figure's ribs, "and as you can see, that right there is the spleen. There was minimal damage done to it, but that was fixed that up during surgery, along with one other minor internal bleed. We are going to keep a close eye on that, just in case."

Dean closed his eyes, taking it all in, before handing the chart back silently. He was so ready to be passed this and on the road in the Impala, flying on their way to their next case. "And the other two?"

"The amount of blood that he lost was massive and add into that the hike off the mountain—"

And fighting a demon, Dean added silently to himself.

"—put an enormous toll on his system. He was slipping dangerously into shock when he was brought in, but we have been combating that and transfusing him with blood. As we speak, he is receiving another bag of O-negative and that should bring his blood pressure closer to where we want it. However, our biggest concern is infection. I know that you did the best with what you had, but his wound is already starting to show signs of it.

"And after surgery and blood loss…He's weak. If the infection does set in too deeply then I will be honest and tell you that his chances of survival will decrease greatly."

Dean took it all in and stood, running his hands through his hair. Sam had seen worse…he would pull through. Dean wouldn't accept anything less than that. "Can I see him?"

Dr. Keller smiled and Dean looked away. "I would think we have been keeping you waiting long enough." Standing, she gestured for Dean to follow her to the elevator.

As they were traveling up to the fourth floor and the ICU a sudden thought struck Dean.

"How's Maddie? The girl that came in with us?"

Dr. Keller took a minute, her lips pursing as she thought. "I didn't care for her, but I think I overheard Dr. Comwell, talking about taking her up for X-rays. I'll see what I can find out but they didn't look too concerned, so I wouldn't worry about it."

"Thank you."

They exited the elevator and Dr. Keller began to walk down a long hallway, leading him into the ICU.

Dean's heart threatened to fail completely as they stepped into the small, curtained area that was Sam's. His brother lay in the bed, hooked up to far too many wires to be comfortable and not moving a muscle. The soft beeping of the heart monitor filled the heavy silence, followed by the blood pressure cuff pumping itself up and the soft hiss of air as the tension was slowly let out.

Dr. Keller patted his shoulder reassuringly before leaving the room and Dean sank down to sit in the chair next to Sam. Blowing out a sigh, Dean washed a hand down his face and leaned forward a little.

"We really got ourselves into a mess this time, didn't we?" he asked, forcing a smile onto his face. Reaching out, he grasped Sam's forearm and squeezed tightly. "But isn't it sad to think that this isn't the worst thing we've been through?"

Sam simply kept breathing, his chest rising and falling in a mostly steady rhythm. The sounds of the heart monitor continued to bleep reassuringly in the background, slightly faster and weaker than Dean would have liked, but they could work around that. The blood pressure was too low, just as Dr. Keller had pointed out, but there was a bag of bright red blood being slowly dripped through the IV that was attached to Sam's right hand.

Dean grinned, shaking Sam's arm gently. "Lemma just say, for the record, this is why you should leave hero duty up to me. You totally missed the mark of walking off with nothing more than bruises and sexy looking stitches. None of this crap that you have been pulling."

Moving his hand down, Dean found Sam's hand and gave it a quick squeeze before settling in for the long wait.

#

Dean was dozing when Sam's fingers twitched against his, jolting him instantly awake.

"Sammy? Dude, you in there?" Leaning eagerly forward, Dean couldn't help but smile as Sam's fingers leisurely uncurled.

Sam grunted, his eyes shifting under their lids as he attempted to pry them open.

"Take your time…" Dean stood, moving to sit next to Sam on the bed and pulling the blanket up higher against his shoulders before gripping his forearm. Rubbing small circles there with his thumb, Dean waited patiently. His skin was warmer than he had hoped, but that was too be expected.

Sam made another small noise, his head tipping towards Dean as he gave up on opening his eyes. Reaching up, his fingers wrapped briefly found Dean's arm before growing lax. Dean sat back in disappointment, squeezing Sam's arm again in silent reassurance.

"I'm here, Sam, and everything is gonna work out just fine. You just concentrate on kicking this thing in the ass, alright? I'll be here when you wake up for real." Dean smiled fondly, brushing Sam's overgrown bangs aside and out of his face.

Sam looked so young, so vulnerable, lying there.

But he was breathing.

He was alive.

And that was good enough for Dean.

Patting his hair down, Dean leaned back and continued his silent vigil, trying very hard not to think about just who was going to be there for Sam after he was gone. Bobby would do what he could, he knew and he loved the man for it, but Sam…Sam could be difficult when he wanted to be.

At least those worries kept the ones of the upcoming ones about hellfire away.

#

Sam's fever continued to rise as the day once again turned into night, but Dr. Keller was quick to reassure Dean that this was normal and that he shouldn't be too concerned. Still, it made Dean uneasy to watch as Sam drifted in and out of consciousness, his ramblings increasingly nonsequential. Sometimes he would answer the slurred questions but more often than he just sat there, holding Sam's hand when the pain got too bad or Sam needed something to ground him.

Dean was just finished soothing him back into a restless sleep when there was a soft knock at the door. Looking up, he felt a grin stretching his tired face when he saw Maddie tentatively peeping around the corner.

"Maddie? Wha are you doin' here? Did they release you already?" Dean sat up straighter, fixing his shirt and running a hand through his hair. He was sure that he looked like roadkill but Maddie had seen him looking worse. He stood, gesturing for her to come in. Maddie hobbled forward, supporting herself on a pair of crutches, and then lowered herself to sit down. Bracing the crutches against the wall, she looked over at Sam, her smile faltering. Her face was still pale, and her eyes had dark shadows underneath them.

"You look better. How's the ankle?" Dean asked, leaning up against the wall and crossing his arms.

Maddie gave a weak smile. "They have me on a lot of drugs. I'm not complaining. How's Sam?"

"Holding his own currently. The infection wasn't as bad as the doc fear, but I mean...it's an infection. Kinda hard to get around that, you know?"Dean huffed a sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck as he stared at Sam, before turning to Maddie and gesturing at the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing. "You get released?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm actually having a friend drive me up to stay with my aunt in Florida. So I was just coming to say good-bye. And thank you."

Dean nodded, waving away her gratitude. "I'm sorry that you got dragged into all this, I really am."

Maddie shook her head. "It's not like you ordered the demon in, you were just trying to help people." Maddie sighed heavily, her pretty face pinching downward. Her eyes looked to be filling with tears and Dean quickly looked away, giving her time to compose herself.

Several quiet sniffles and gasps later, she raised her head. "I mean, who else was gonna carry me off a mountainside? Especially after I stabbed your brother."

This time it was Dean shaking his head. "It was nothing, and trust me, Sam won't hold it against you." He laughed softly, glancing back over at his still sleeping brother and checking the vital signs being. His temperature was still too high, but his blood pressure was steadier. "As long as you didn't put Nair his shampoo, he'll forgive just about anything. But, man, touch his hair and Sammy will hold a grudge like a no one's business…the big girl."

Maddie smiled, her eyes still red from fighting off tears. "Noted. I'm guessing you're not speaking from experience?"

"No. Of course not," Dean smiled, and Maddie grinned before her smile faltered once more.

"Tell Sam thank you, won't you?"

"Of course." Dean stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and giving her a quick squeeze. "Just remember that it all gets better. Enjoy your time in Florida. Laugh, have fun. Enjoy life."

Maddie forced a smile, her eyes once again threatening to spill over with tears. "Emma doesn't get to."

Dean hugged her closer, cutting off her words quickly. "Don't play the what-if game, Maddie, I'm begging you. I don't know why Emma died and you didn't, but just…" He looked over her head, focusing on Sam, wishing that he was awake to realize, to understand... "Just be happy, even if it takes a little bit to get there. You'll find that path and then this will all be a bad nightmare. You'll find love again, you're strong like that."

Maddie nodded against his chest and Dean let her go, watching as she wiped her hand across her eyes. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I hope that we don't see each other again."

Dean chuckled, letting go and moving to get her crutches. He handed them to her and grabbed a piece of paper, scrawling down his number and holding it "If it means anything, I hope that we don't see each other again either, but just in case…I typically receive a woman's number, not the other way around, but if literally carrying you across the mountain couldn't convince you to give yours to me, well, then there is something wrong with you."

Maddie smiled thinly as she tucked the paper into her pocket. She gave him one final smile before pulling herself up and limping out the door.

Dean watched her go until she disappeared around the corner and then turned back to Sam.

"She'll be fine," he said softly, sitting back down. That…that made everything all worth it. Even if he was never going to have a wife, or kids, or picket fence, she would. Sam would. And that would have to be enough.

Shifting back the blankets of Sam's bed, Dean gingerly pulled back the bandages, checking the wound for himself, and made a face. The skin there was no longer quite so red and puffy so maybe the antibiotics were finally kicking in... Nodding in satisfaction, he tucked the light sheet back over Sam, pausing long enough to press the back of his hand against Sam's forehead.

"You ready to get out of here?"

Sam shifted, a breathy moan escaping him but he didn't wake up.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Listen," Dean shifted awkwardly, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. "You've kinda got too, cause, ah, otherwise whose gonna get me outta my deal?" He threw in a playful tap on Sam's shoulder but his words came out far heavier than he had intended, the underlying fear of both hell and the loss of Sam making his words thick. Sam didn't respond at all this time and Dean clapped his arm gently. "Good talk. I'm gonna get a coffee."

Staggering to his feet, Dean took a deep breath and heading out into the hallway.

It was later that night that Sam's fever broke, surprising Dr. Keller so much that she called it nothing short of pure, stubborn will.

Dean called it Sam's stubborn geek side that refused to be ignored until he found whatever answer he was looking for. That hadn't changed over the years, even if the questions themselves had changed from why birds can fly while fish swim to why-did-you-sell-your-soul-and-how-the-hell-am-I-going-to-get-you-out-of-it?

Sam just needed a reminder.

Dean was working on yet another cup of coffee the next day when Sam finally woke for real, if only for a few moments.

"Dean…?" The soft, hoarse, whisper had drawn Dean up from the depths into which he had been staring and he jerked, his eyes going wide.

"Hey, buddy, how you feeling?" he asked, setting the flimsy storiform cup aside and plastering the patented Dean Winchester grin across his face.

Sam's eyelids slowly lifted, revealing dull-looking hazel. The frown deepened on his face as he took in his surroundings and Dean waited, gripping his forearm steadily until Sam followed up with another hazy request of his name.

"Yup, Sammy, I'm right here."

"Oh…good. Is…are you…did Maddie…?" Sam trailed off again, blinking owlishly and in a manner that suggested any moment from now he was going slip back under.

"She's okay, you did good," Dean praised but Sam's frown only deepened.

"You okay?"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, cause I'm the one in the hospital bed who has been unconscious for like the past two days." Sam stared at him with blank confusion and Dean relented. "I'm good too."

"Oh…"

Sam seemed to think on that for a moment before his eyes slipped shut and he rolled his head in Dean's direction. "Di' you ge' my book?"

It was Dean's turn to frown as his eyebrows raise. "You're book? Well, if you would have joined the party a little sooner and given me a fair warning, yeah I would have gotten you your book. Hell, I don't even know what book you are talking about."

"The one…the one in the trunk that you aren't supposed to know about," Sam slurred, lifting an eyelid in annoyance before his face paled and he attempted to sit up as a sudden clarity flashed across his face but Dean laid a hand against his chest, pushing him back down with ease.

"Oh, yes, how could I forget such a unique title. Now shut up and don't move."

Sam gave in, leaning back against the bed with a low sigh. "Well, you should bring it in, next time, just don't look," he murmured and Dean shook his head.

"You're higher than a kite, dude, get some rest. If I am out at the vicinity of the car, I'll look in all your little hidey-hole that I'm not supposed to know about," Dean promised, the smile a little less faked as Sam's brows scrunched up in confusion before they evened out.

"Thanks, man," Sam muttered, and then he was out again, leaving Dean to sit back in flabbergasted silence. He desperately needed to find his brother a new hobby, one that didn't involve books.

Sam's body continued to demand rest and sleep but as soon as Dr. Keller assured Dean that Sam was out of danger and should be able to make a full recovery, then Dean whisked him away into the Impala, putting the small town in their rearview mirror once and for all.

Sam slept for the entirety of the trip across two state lines, so deeply under the influence of the hospital drugs that Dean had to practically carry him into their crap hotel of the night. The only half-aware request that Sam kept insisting on was for his journal and books to be brought in and Dean hesitantly complied after he had settled Sam down.

Placing them gently on the nightstand, he sat down next to Sam, simply drinking in the sight of him breathing. Sam slept on, oblivious and Dean patted his chest lightly before moving away and pulling out the laptop to peruse for another case.

Another disaster averted, time to move on.

Sam stirred, his eyes flickering open with a low groan. Dean looked over.

"Dean?"

Dean cleared his throat, flicking on the lap. "Right here. You need anything?"

Sam still had dark shadows under his eyes, the paleness of his skin accenting them in all the wrong ways, and he winced as he tried to move. He held his breath, releasing it out slowly as the pain ebbed and flowed. "I'm fine. You okay?"

"Dude. You keep asking that like I was the one that almost bled out."

Sam shrugged helplessly as he reached out, snagging the hem of Dean's shirt. "Imma gonna do more research, gotta…gotta save you for once," he pronounced, his voice still thick from drugs and exhaustion. Dean shook his head in fond exasperation.

"You do that." Dean gently unhooked the fingers, squeezing them briefly before laying them flat on Sam's chest. Sam let out a long sigh, his eyes closing once more.

"Jerk."

It was no more than a sleepy whisper but Dean smiled anyway.

"Bitch," he replied quickly and Sam's lips twitched upwards into a grin before he drifted off once more into a deeper sleep.

Dean's smile slowly faded as his eyes caught on the books on the nightstand sitting next to the orange bottles of pills and he quickly looked away. His fingers tapped restlessly against his leg before washing a hand down his face.

He wasn't leaving Sam behind by choice, damnit. It had been him or Sam.

Sam would be in for a battle, but in the end, he would be okay. He would move on.

And, in the end, that was all that really mattered to Dean.

#

Sam dozed in and out of consciousness, the pain just at bay, and found himself staring blearily at the puke-colored walls…or maybe that was just the drugs and illness messing with his eyesight. Maybe they weren't that bad. He was laying on his side, seemingly everything but his eyes controlled by the heavy stupor of drugs and sleep.

Somewhere in the room, he could hear the showering running and let his eyes slip close.

Dean was nearby.

A rush of relief, or safety, swept over Sam and he relaxed into the lumpy mattress. It wasn't much better than the hospital bed but at least here he didn't have wires attached all over him and nurses poking him as soon as he woke up.

The shower turned off and he could hear Dean humming and Sam concentrated, trying to pick out what song it was.

He was so tired of sleeping, of being unable to think clearly. Dean had assured him, maybe more than once by the amused expression he kept wearing, that he hadn't even been in the hospital for more than four days, but that didn't seem right. It had seemed so much longer than that.

Every day was precious, even if Dean kept insisting that it wasn't.

Sam really wanted to be out of this bed, to be either just spending time with his brother or researching how to save him because living life without him…Sam shuddered unconsciously, curling up under the blanket as if to protect himself.

He couldn't live without Dean.

He would rather die.

And if Dean…if the contract came due and Sam hadn't figured out anything…

It would have meant that he hadn't done his part. Research was the one thing he was better at than Dean and he damn well wasn't about to give up. He always found the answer. There had to be one, he just wasn't looking in the right places yet, in the right books. If he just kept searching…

"You cold, Sammy?" Dean must have exited the shower at some point because there was an additional blanket being spread over him. Sam tried to voice his thanks, but it came out all slurred and mumbled, leaving Sam silently cursing the drugs once more.

The next time that Dean was in the shower, he was dumping the pills down the drain.

Dean chuckled, slapping Sam's foot gently before moving away and settling out across the other bed and starting to flick through the channels.

Sam wouldn't be okay, not when Dean left him, no matter what Dean wanted to tell himself.

And Dean wouldn't be okay, either, not in hell, and that was more motivating than anything else.

This demon had grudged up a few too many fears about losing Dean, about being the reason that he died, and Sam swore to himself that he would save his brother if he would die trying.

But for the moment, Sam needed sleep and he allowed himself drifted off to Dean's sarcastic commentary about whatever horror film he had stumbled upon.

THE END

Thanks again to all of you who read/reviewed! It meant the world to me and I would love to hear what you thought about the story as a whole. :)

I have another story in the works for those who might be interested and it should be up soon!