A/N: Have I left you hanging long enough? I'm sorry... Impala cookies all around! Without further ado, here's chapter 17. This one's dedicated to all those people who threatened my life...I love it!

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On the bank of a nameless river, with some elderly psycho killers probably on their way to find him and finish the job they started, Sam mourned the loss of his brother. And realized that he was now truly alone in the world.

And knew he would not accept it.

With renewed vigor, Sam lost no time breathing for his brother, making his heart beat for him if Dean's body would not. He knew he would never stop, he would spend himself, until he literally fell over from exhaustion, before he would admit defeat.

"Breathe, Dean," he pleaded. "Breathe or we're both going to die out here!"

Soft flakes of snow falling around him, Sam Winchester breathed the illusion of life into his brother.

And, finally, his brother responded.

Without notice, as Sam finished the last compression and pinched his nose shut, Dean threw up, a violent explosion of water and bile.

With wide eyes and panic in them, Sam rolled his brother onto his side, letting him cough up the contents of his stomach, which thankfully wasn't much.

When the vomiting stopped, and the sharp gasps of air began, Sam turned his brother back over.

Dean's eyes were still closed, but he was breathing. Gasping, more appropriately.

Sam brushed away the tears that came when Dean opened his eyes.

"Sammy?" he whispered.

"If you don't let me help you now, I swear I'm going to throw your ass back in that water," Sam said menacingly.

"Help me up," was all Dean said, closing his eyes again.

Sam stood, suddenly feeling every ache, suddenly feeling the cold that hadn't bothered him until now.

He swallowed, and helped his brother up, because he had no other choice.

---

Shivering violently, Dean offered no help or resistance as Sam hauled him to his feet. He swayed and almost collapsed again, but Sam quickly wrapped an arm around his waist.

"We gotta get you to town," Sam said, eyes fixed on his brother.

Dean couldn't reply over his chattering teeth.

He was so damn cold, and confused. He had woken up to Sam hovering over him, and the bitter taste of vomit in his mouth. His entire body hurt, and he couldn't remember why at first.

"What happened?" he asked, coughing.

"You fell through the ice," Sam said, almost in disbelief.

"H-how long was I under?" Dean said, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

"I don't know," Sam asked. "Forever."

Dean glanced at his brother, who seemed shaken.

"I'm okay n-now, S-Sam," he forced out.

"Right," his brother replied with a roll of his eyes.

Without another word, Sam was at his side, wrapping his arm back around his waist and gently nudging him forward.

"Watch out for ice this time," he said.

Funny.

Real funny.

---

Sam tried to ignore the uncontrollable shaking that wracked his brother's body. He could feel the violent tremors, but said nothing, pushing them forward at the fastest pace he though they could manage.

Hypothermia, frostbite... a million worries ran through his mind, the least of which were Betty and Earl. He hadn't paid them mind since his brother disappeared through that opening in the ice.

They would deal with that problem if and when the need arose.

In the meantime, they had more important things to worry about.

Like freezing to death in the backwoods where no one would ever find them. Even this close to a road, the chances that anyone would find them right away... it wasn't good.

But it was okay.

They were alive, they were moving, and -

Without warning, Dean's legs gave out beneath him.

With his brother's weight suddenly forced on him, Sam buckled, and the two of them hit the ground.

Grunting as they hit, Sam managed to shove a hand out and catch himself before he face planted.

Bearing most of Dean's weight, he turned to see what the problem was.

---

Eyes closed, Dean leaned heavily against his brother. He couldn't move. He had tried his hardest, but he could go no further. His body wasn't obeying commands anymore. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to even think about breathing.

"Dean?" he heard his brother ask.

Sleep would be good now.

"Dean!" more insistent.

Why wouldn't Sam let him sleep?

He opened an eye.

Sam was staring at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Get up!"

Sam was on his knees beside him, tugging on his arm.

That hurt.

"Stop," he mumbled, closing his eye.

A not-so-gentle shove startled him, and he opened both eyes this time, seeing Sam staring at him again.

"Dean, come on," he said, more urgently. "We have to go!"

"You come on," Dean muttered. "You go."

"What do you think you're doing?" Sam shouted. "You're sleeping in the middle of the woods in the snow, you're gonna freeze to death!"

Dean looked around, somewhat surprised to see trees surrounding them and flakes of snow falling gently. Where had those come from?

"Sammy?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "Why are we in the woods?"

"What?" his brother asked, raising his eyebrows.

Of all the places to be, in the middle of a forest? When had that happened? Last thing he remembered was...being in a forest.

Dean frowned.

"Dean?" Sam asked, more gently this time.

"I'm..." Dean started.

Confused was an understatement.

Cold? No. He was frozen. He felt like he couldn't move.

Thankfully, he had stopped shaking.

---

"Come on, Dean, get up," Sam implored, holding out a hand.

His brother was starting to worry him.

Dean shook his head stubbornly. "No. You go. I'm staying here."

"Dean, this is no time to joke," Sam said, chewing his lower lip.

He swallowed hard, watching his brother's drooping eyelids.

"I'm tired, Sammy," he said. "Just leave me."

Sam's eyes widened. "No way!"

"Go," Dean said again, waving a hand weakly.

"Dean, no," Sam said. "I'm not leaving you."

His brother had to be insane.

"I can't move," Dean said, opening his eyes and looking at his brother with glazed eyes.

"Yes, you can," Sam argued. "You just have to try.

"I don't wanna," Dean said stubbornly, his words slurring. "I can't walk."

"I'll carry you if I have to!" Sam shot back. "I won't leave you!"

Dean blinked.

Sam didn't know much about hypothermia, but he'd seen enough of the few warning signs he did know. Enough to realize his brother was not out of danger. That if he didn't get them help soon, Dean would die.

And...so would he.

It suddenly dawned on him.

Dean had sped up the process by taking that swim, but neither of them had a jacket, or halfway decent clothes for this weather. They were exposed, under dressed, and wet.

Sam would be no help to his brother if he was dead.

"Come on," he said, kneeling.

Dean watched him, squinting.

"Get up!" Sam cried. "Do you want to die here?"

"Do you want to live forever?" Dean mumbled, looking behind him in a way that made Sam think he wasn't addressing his brother.

To be safe, he glanced over his shoulder, but found no one there.

He grabbed Dean by the wrist and pulled him upright.

Dean immediately started to fall back down, but Sam countered the weight, and in a clumsy movement, swung his brother onto his shoulder.

Grunting, Dean's arms banged against Sam's back.

"Sam," Dean whimpered.

"I know," Sam said.

He closed his eyes for a moment, not knowing how he would find the strength to do this.

"I know it hurts, Dean," he continued. "Just hold on."

Planting one foot in front of the other, Sam started to walk.

Knowing it was important for Dean to stay awake, Sam wondered how to keep him awake.

"Hey Dean?"

"Hmm?" the sleepy voice replied.

"Remember that summer?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Tell me about it," Sam begged.

At first Dean didn't answer. Then he haltingly told Sam the story of how he'd connived that day at the beach out of their father.

Sam laughed in all the right places, a hollow laugh, too focused on the weight of his brother on his back.

When Dean finished, Sam paused to rest for a moment.

"I still wanted to go to camp" he said. "Stupid, huh?"

When he got no reply, he prodded a bit louder.

"Dean? Stupid, huh?"

Nothing.

He could feel the rise and fall of Dean's chest against his back.

He was alive, but for how much longer?

Making a decision, he stopped and knelt, trying to place his brother on the ground as gently as possible.

Propping Dean against a tree, Sam paused only a few seconds to catch his breath.

At a run, he headed for the road, praying he'd get lucky just once more. Slipping and sliding, he ran up the gentle incline and out of the safety and malice of the forest.

On the snow covered roads, he stood, feeling utterly alone.

"Please, God," he muttered, looking from left to right every few seconds.

Someone must have been listening, hethought

The tell-tale twin beams of headlights appeared down the road, steadily growing closer. It was a car, driving slow.

It could be Earl and Betty, looking for them, or a driver being cautious of the conditions.

He would take his chances.

Stepping into the middle of the road, he waved his arms, shouting to draw attention to him

Bathed in the headlights, Sam was easily visible against the white backdrop. The car slowed...

Sam breathed a heavy sigh of relief when he saw the lights mounted on the top of the car.

Pulling to a stop, the door of the car opened, and a middle aged cop stepped out, peering at Sam.

"You're a long way from anywhere, son," the cop said, regarding him with cautious eyes. "You need some help?"