AN: Well, here are the last two chapters. I really appreciate all those who took the time to read, follow, review etc. It means a lot.

After so long in the dim, the hallway lights seemed bright, and they stood blinking at each other. Watching the doubt crawl across Sam's face, Dean nudged his shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry."

Sam tried to smile, but his expression was too heavy. "We're putting a lot of trust on Rowena. What if…"

Dean cut him off before Sam could overthink himself into a panic attack. "First of all, if she wanted to screw us over, she could have done it already." He laid on the confidence. He wasn't sure he believed that 100%, but there was no point in stressing Sam out more than he already was. "Secondly, let me remind you that your taste in music alone makes it pretty damn sure that we could never merge". He put air quotes around that last word for effect and was pleased to hear Sam laugh despite himself.

Just then Mom came around the corner.

"Hey boys. Everything okay?"

They exchanged a glance but kept the dangerous plan to themselves. Maybe it was unfair to exclude their mother, but Dean couldn't bring himself to say anything. "Yup, fine," he lied smoothly.

"Good. Well, Bobby and I were thinking of driving Jody and Leah back to Sioux Falls. Jody wants to get the poor girl back to her parents as soon as she can. Is that a problem?" Actually, Dean thought that would be perfect. Mom, Jody, Bobby and Leah would be out of harm's way and by the time Mom got back, either everything would be fine, or it wouldn't matter any more.

"Nope, that sounds like a great idea. You up for that much driving?"

Mom grinned at him smugly. "Believe or not, I was driving long before you were born." Dean had always figured he'd gotten his love of cars from Dad, but it had been a kick to learn that it was Mom who was the first speed demon in the family. "It will be good to get on the road, and Bobby and I can spend some time together on the way back." Dean barely stopped himself from grimacing. He wanted Mom to be happy, she deserved that, but it was still tough to think about Mom as anything but his mother.

"When do you leave?" Sam asked, sparing him.

"We're ready now, I just wanted to check in with you both. I figured you might want to say goodbye to Leah." Mom reached out and stroked a loose strand of hair from Sam's forehead.

"Yeah, thanks. I'd better do that." Sam slipped by Mom and headed down the hallway. As they watched him go, Mom asked.

"Are you sure you're okay? It's been a rough few days. I can stay if you want." She looked so earnest that she reminded him fleetingly of Sammy.

"Nah, we're good." His eyes lingered at the corner which Sam had just turned. If he told her their plan, not only might she try and talk them out of it, but he would have to explain about the whole soulmate thing. That was something that felt too private to share. "I'll keep an eye on him - maybe take him for ice cream if he eats all his dinner," he teased. Mom reached out and squeezed his hand. Her fingers felt small against his palm.

"Alright. I'll call you later." With that, she left him leaning against the wall.

Mom had barely turned the corner when Jody approached from the other direction.

"Hey you," she said lightly. "I guess Mary told you that we're heading out shortly?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Uh, Jody?" he called before she could walk away. She stopped and gave him her full attention. Dean was flooded with a sudden rush of gratitude. Not many people would travel halfway across the country at the drop of a hat to help a friend. "I uh, I just wanted to thank you for bringing Sam back." There were a thousand other things, both big and small that he should thank her for too, but at the end of the day words were never going to be enough to express how he felt. There were so few people he and Sam could truly count on, but Jody was always there for them. If something should go wrong…

She shrugged away his appreciation in her low-key way. "Anything you boys need. You know that." Her smile was full of love and warmth and Dean could only nod, his throat clogged with emotion.

Reaching out he pulled her into a hug. "I know," he whispered into her hair as he squeezed her tightly. Clearing his throat he let her go, one hand lingering on her arm. "Well, have a safe trip," he said. She patted his hand in farewell and headed towards the library, luckily before he could make a complete fool of himself. Dean took a second to steady himself, and then went in search of Sam. It was time to put his brother back together.

xxxxxx

Standing beside the car, Sam admired how the barn was a black silhouette against a gorgeous dusky-purple sky. Clouds glowed orange as they reflected the last light from the sinking sun and the crickets were singing. It was a peaceful evening, and Sam took a deep breath of the cooling air as the others climbed out of the Impala. This could be it. In a little while, he would either be back together, body and soul, or gone. He had resisted thinking about what would happen if their souls unified, and he and Dean lost themselves. Life so far had taught him that nothing good came from speculating, and he had confidence in his brother.

For Sam's whole life Dean had seemed like a force of nature; unstoppable, resilient, confident. When he was younger, he had believed that Dean could do practically anything, solve any problem. No one had ever made him feel as safe or as loved as his big brother. Of course as an adult, he'd realized that Dean was just a man, one who could be broken and vulnerable. One that made mistakes and suffered for them. That realization had only reinforced his respect for Dean. Watching him handle unfathomable things that would have shattered lesser men, well it had only made Dean seem more himself. The suffering his brother had gone through had burnished him into someone even more real and amazing. He glanced over to where Dean was bent over the trunk, packing a duffel of supplies. It was a good thing his thoughts were his own because Dean would die of embarrassment if he knew what Sam was thinking.

"Be a dear, Samuel, and carry this for me." Rowena pushed a lumpy satchel into his arms as she picked her way across the uneven terrain towards the looming structure. He shifted it onto one shoulder and followed. Once in the barn, Rowena waved her hand and cleared the dirt and loose straw from a large area of floor. At her direction, he dragged a board over and propped it between a half wall and a decaying bail of hay to form a crude table. He watched as she began to set up until Cas and Dean staggered in through the broken door.

Cas had Sam's body by the shoulders, while Dean was carrying his feet, grunting and huffing as they hauled his dead weight. Back in his room, it had been strange enough seeing his body laid out on his bed. Seeing it in the car had been unsettling, but watching it be carried like that was downright grotesque and it made his stomach churn. They laid him down in the clear area and then Cas and Dean joined him to wait for Rowena's instruction. First, with another grand gesture and some Latin, the interior of the barn began to glow with the same box of symbols as Sam's room. Then she combined some spell components into a bowl and muttered under her breath over them. When the contents of the bowl met with her satisfaction, she crouched down next to Sam's body and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Uh, what are you…?"

She shot him a silencing look. "Relax Samuel, your virtue will remain intact." Sure enough, she only pulled aside the shirt enough to paint a small sigil on his chest above his sternum. "Now, it's your turn," she said, crooking her fingers at Dean, who moved forward at her command. Sam missed his brother's steady presence at his back and found himself shuffling a little closer to Cas. He shouldn't be nervous, but he was. Rowena painted a similar sigil on Dean's chest, then another on his right palm, holding his hand flat to be sure he didn't smudge it. Then she gravely handed him a piece of parchment.

"Alright. When you read the first part of the spell, it will pull Sam's soul out of his current body and pull it towards your own. Then, it will be up to you. You will need to push Sam into his usual body using the force of your own will and the second part of the incantation. I suggest you memorize it." She stared at him expectantly and Dean obediently memorized the few words, squinting in the miniscule light. "Placing your palm," she touched the hand she'd painted, "against the symbol on Sam should make the transfer easier." Dean's face was in shadow, but Sam recognized tension in the way he rolled his shoulders and clutched the paper.

"It might be best for you both to lie down," suggested Cas from behind Sam. Dean nodded shortly and lowered himself stiffly to the floor. Cas gave Sam a little nudge and he went to lie beside his brother. Had anyone wandered by to witness this, it would have been an extremely bizarre sight. A grown man laying between a corpse and a little boy on a dusty barn floor. Dean propped himself up on one elbow, digging something out of the pocket of his jeans.

"Cas, you and Rowena clear out to a safe distance." He tossed the keys to the Impala to Cas who caught them with a metallic chink. "Come back for us in half an hour." Their friends made their way towards the exit with a solemnity that did nothing to help Sam's anxiety. "And Cas," Dean called. The angel looked back at them from the doorway. "Do NOT wreck my car." There was a growl in Dean's voice, but Sam knew it was his brother's way of hiding his own nervousness. He listened to the sound of the car driving away, and then they were alone.

"Ya' alright Sammy?" Dean asked quietly from his right. Sam stared up into the blackness of the rafters, apprehension coursing through him. He could hear the rustle of wings in the quiet and idly wondered if they were disturbing the pre-hunt ritual of some owl. Swallowing hard he gathered enough moisture to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth and tilted his head to meet Dean's eyes through the gloom.

"Yeah," he squeezed out. Dean's warm hand rested on his arm for a moment.

"Okay, Sam. Here we go." Sam's heart was pounding in his ears and he willed himself to stay still. Everything's going to be fine, he told himself. Dean exhaled and then spoke, the lyrical sound of the Latin barely registering before Sam found himself plummeting into darkness.

xxxxxx

Dean looked over at Sam. The kid was rigid as a board on the floor beside him and he looked terrified even as he gave the go ahead. He couldn't resist providing some comfort, resting his hand lightly on his brother's arm, careful not to smudge Rowena's symbol. Dean was nervous himself, but it was go time.

"Okay, Sam. Here we go." He settled himself on his back and expelled some of his tension with a breath and glanced at the crumpled paper. "Corpus dimittere. Lungere ad animam meam vinculum," he said cautiously.

Nothing seemed to happen. He looked over at Sam and saw the kid grow slack, chest not moving. A flash of panic almost had him reaching for his brother but then, swifter than a blink, he felt a wave of power crash through him. The details of exactly what was going to happen hadn't mattered to Dean, it had seemed irrelevant in relation to the bigger issues, but now the magic was like an unstoppable force, dragging him under. Just before he fell into blackness, he saw the elegant swoop of an owl as it fled the rafters and headed out into the night.

xxxxxx

Everything was dark, but it was a warm, velvety blackness that felt almost comfortable. Dean was calm and relaxed, unthreatened with a curious sense of anticipation. He got to his feet leisurely, noting as he did so that his feet were bare. Checking out the rest of himself he was wearing his softest jeans and what looked like his favourite Zeppelin shirt. He plucked at the well-worn cotton. Huh? It had been years since he had worn shirts like these. Dad had impressed upon him the need to blend in, to provide no unnecessary identifying details. But right now, Dean wasn't worried about Dad. In fact, he wasn't worried about anything. Picking a direction at random, Dean padded unhurriedly into the darkness. As he walked, a path formed beneath his feet and the world lightened slightly. There was nothing to see, but he was content to just keep walking. After a while, the path seemed to wind around obstacles that had no shape or form. He wondered if he could be curious about them, but with each one he passed he felt a tiny ping of urgency. The invisible barriers grew closer to his path, forcing him to slow down and the need to hurry sharpened and grew. Eventually, he came to a door. Again, there was nothing to see, no outline or structure, just a handle in the gloom, but he still recognized it as a door. And getting through it was of utmost importance.

He reached out, pulled the handle, and stepped through. The doorway disappeared, and Dean found himself standing in a meadow. The grass was damp and cool against his bare feet and a gentle breeze caressed his arms. It was still dark here, but it was the familiar dark of a summer night. The sky above was filled with stars and gazing up at the heavens he found himself wondering why he was here and what he was supposed to be doing. An intense light appeared behind him, and he turned around slowly to see what was obscuring the stars. In front of him, the Impala coalesced out of the emptiness, the glow painting her blue. Beside her bumper, their old green cooler was patiently sweating into the grass. The radiance that had been silhouetting the car seemed to gain structure, focused on a spot just in front of the car. The light pulsed like a stone splashing into water, only in reverse. Bits of light seemed to ripple towards the centre until suddenly with a resounding chime, the light flared and then dissipated leaving behind a figure.

It was Sam. He was crumpled in on himself, his arms wrapped tightly around his head and torso as if holding himself together. Sam was his usual adult self although he was dressed in the old-fashioned shirt and dress pants that Noah had been wearing. Rocking back and forth, Sam was muttering and panting. Dean couldn't tell whether Sammy was in fear or pain, but it didn't really matter. His brother needed him. Any confusion or haziness Dean had been feeling immediately evaporated.

"Sam!" he called in alarm, rushing forward to fall on his knees. In the darkness he couldn't see any injuries, but Sam didn't fold easy, so something had to be very wrong. Gripping Sam's arm he pushed back the younger man's hair, eager to see Sammy's face. "Sam?" he tried again more softly. Slowly, his brother looked at him. There was a strange combination of relief and fear in his eyes.

"Dean?" he asked with a tremor in his voice that made Dean want to punch someone.

"Live and in person," he answered, flippant in his relief. With a gasp, Sam launched into Dean's arms, almost knocking them both over. He didn't know what had just happened to trigger the unexpected emotion, but Dean gripped his brother close until the kid rather roughly pushed him away.

"Wait, we have to be careful." Now Sam was checking him over. Whatever was going on, Dean was happy to get out of the wet grass that was rapidly soaking into his jeans. He got to his feet, and keeping hold of Sam's arm, tugged him up too. When he was sure Sam was steady, he let go and brushed at the legs of his pants. The moisture had stained the leather of his boots and he wiped his hands on the outside of his coat. He froze. Hadn't he just been barefoot? And he could have sworn that he wasn't wearing a jacket.

"What's going on Sammy?" he asked. Sam just stood there staring at him. The image of his brother wavered slightly. What the hell?

"Don't you remember? You have to put me back." Dean had no idea what his brother was talking about, and now he wasn't even sure if any of this was real. Sam grabbed his right hand, refusing to let go when he tried to pull free. "See," he demanded, showing Dean his own palm.

On his hand was a symbol. He studied it, willing himself to figure this out, and then like a flash of lightning, he remembered Rowena painting it on his palm, lying on the barn floor between two versions of his brother. He remembered all the talk about souls, and Cas' caution about losing themselves. Patting down his body he felt solid, corporeal. As the memories snapped into place, Dean knew who he was and more importantly, the job that had to be done. A little gasp drew his attention to Sam.

A tiny particle that reminded Dean of a flake of dry skin floated away from Sam's wrist. Sammy yanked his hands back, but that only sent up a few more particles. They both watched in horror as the micro pieces of Sam swirled in the air between them, like dust motes before setting on Dean's arm where they were instantly absorbed.

"No! No, Sam, pull yourself together!" Dean ordered, horrified as more flecks drifted from Sam's bare skin.

"I'm trying, I don't know how!" he yelped in a panic. A mini tornado of Sam bits was starting to form and spin towards Dean who backed away instinctively. He had to do something before Sam freaked out and seriously started dissolving.

"Okay, close your eyes." With a last frantic look Sam did as he was told. "Now calm down, and think about…" Dean flailed around for some way to save Sam. An idea hit him. Maybe for Sam to solidify himself, to keep them from merging, he needed to think about things that had nothing to do with Dean? Memories that were Sam's alone. "Uh, Sam, uh...think about Stanford. Think about your dorm room, your classes...how you met Jessica." Over the years Sammy had shared a little about his time at college, a fragment of a story or a reference to an experience, but he'd never told Dean exactly how he met his girlfriend. Dean had always respected Sam's right to keep that aspect of his life private.

Sam inhaled and exhaled deeply, releasing some tension. The flurry of flakes stopped whirling and simply floated in the night air. Dean held his breath. Ever so slowly, the pieces of Sam reversed course and drifted back towards him, eventually melting into his skin as if they had never existed. Relaxing slightly, Dean waited as patiently as he could until Sam opened his eyes again and nodded.

"I've got this. I'm good now." He gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Dean." Sam flickered once more, but this time he looked more like himself. He appeared much more physical and real, dressed in his usual outfit of jeans and plaid shirt. Dean smiled back. He wanted to reach out and touch his brother, prove to himself that the kid was truly there, but he shoved his hands in his pockets instead and his fingers found something. Pulling out the scrap of parchment, Dean recognized the second half of Rowena's spell at the same time Sam did.

"I'm ready when you are." Sam unbuttoned the first button on his shirt and tugged it over, revealing the sigil on his chest. Cautiously, Dean placed the matching symbol on his palm against it, ready to snatch it back. But nothing happened. Sam's skin felt warm beneath his hand, and he could sense his brother's heart beating a steady rhythm. They shared a look.

"Unum corpus et anima simul unitis", he said, adding a silent prayer to the universe. A second, deeper clank echoed in the darkness and Dean felt a lurch deep in his gut. The last thing Dean saw as the world tilted sideways was Sam.