I do not own Dean or Sam Winchester...rats.

Hey guys, so here I go. It's time to change directions. And just so you know, any kind of back story behind Devils Elbow, Missouri that resembles actual truth is pure coincidence. I can't exactly say there was anything scientific that went into choosing the town. I just closed my eyes and picked a state in the West, and the scrolled through town names until I found one that resembled spooky. Yes, it's a real place. Beyond that, this is still completely fiction. Once again, thanks so much for your wonderful reviews. I always look forward to seeing what my readers think about this story. So, here goes...

Dean tossed the last of their luggage into the backseat of the Impala, pausing to smile at the noticeable lack of wheelchair. Within two days of taking his first steps Sam had demanded the chair be removed from his sight. It served as a constant reminder that there was something to fall back on; that if he couldn't take another step he could sit. Sam didn't want that reminder. He didn't want that escape. So he'd ordered Dean to get rid out it. Another week went by with the chair hidden safely in the trunk of the car, just in case. But Dean had soon realized Sam would never need it again, and had willingly donated it to Harry for one of his future patients.

Three weeks later, as the weather warmed and the spring flowers began to bloom, Sam had finally convinced Dean it was time to move on. The call for help from the citizens in Devils Elbow, Missouri had tugged dramatically at Sam's heartstrings. Despite Dean's constant reminder that they didn't even know they'd registered on the hunter's radar, Sam hadn't let up. The conversation that led them to this moment played over and over again in Dean's mind, his fears for Sam's safety still battling Sam's pleas to go. The day, two days earlier, had gone like every other day. Sam had spent most of his day deviating between his therapy efforts and his research efforts. And then Dean had gotten another text message from their father, but unlike the others he'd received on an almost daily basis, he hadn't been able to hide this one. The phone had vibrated, indicating the message, while Dean was in the shower. And when he reemerged several minutes later, Sam sat angrily on the bed, glaring at Dean with the phone clutched tightly in his hands.

"How many messages has Dad sent?" Sam demanded before Dean could even ask what his phone was doing in Sam's hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Sam," Dean stalled, turning his back to Sam as he shuffled through his bag for a t-shirt.

"Then let me spell it out for you," Sam snapped. "Your cell phone. Dad has sent several text messages to you that you somehow conveniently failed to tell me about. HOW MANY DID HE SEND?"

"I don't want to talk about this," Dean replied firmly. "I had my reasons."

"Dammit Dean! How dumb do you think I am? Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out?"

Dean sighed, sinking to the opposite bed and finally facing his irate brother. "You were moving as fast as you could with your therapy. I didn't want you to worry anymore than you had to. There was nothing more you could be doing."

"There was a lot I could be doing!" Sam yelled, throwing the phone at Dean. "Three more people have been killed while you were busy keeping me in the dark. We could have helped them, Dean. We could have saved them!"

"What the hell were you going to do?" Dean demanded of his brother. "You could barely walk! You're still having a lot of trouble. How were you going to help any of them?"

The hatred in Sam's eyes was unmistakable. "You had no right, Dean. I would have figured something out. We would have figured something out, together."

"What do you want me to do, Sam? Huh? What do you want me to say? I'm not going to say I'm sorry, because I'm not! Your safety is the most important thing to me. I don't give a damn about the rest of the world if you're not OK. Dammit, Sam, I did what I thought was best for you! For your recovery! Damn you, Sam, I did it because I love you!" Anger and frustration had Dean back on his feet, pacing frantically back and forth. How do I make him see that I didn't do this to screw him over? I kept this from him because I love him. Dammit, Sammy. You're so stubborn.

Sam grew silent, his thoughts going to what Dean had just said. Suddenly, his hands seemed very interesting, and Sam spent a great deal of time studying them intensely. As much as he hated to admit it, and GOD did he hate to admit it, there was no mistaking Dean's sincerity. There was far too much emotion in his brother's typically stoical demeanor for Sam to believe anything else. Dean was a damn good liar, but he refused to bring any emotion into his lies. This was pure, unadulterated truth. "I'm sorry, Dean," Sam offered quietly, still examining his hands. "I just...my recovery is just taking far too long for my tastes. I need to be out there doing something. But instead, I'm stuck in this godforsaken town focusing on putting one foot safely in front of the other. These people need us, Dean."

Dean stopped pacing long enough to face his brother. "And I told you, we'll go just as soon as you're better. I made that promise to you and I intend to keep it."

"I am better," Sam protested. "I couldn't even get out of that wheelchair when you promised me that. I'm so much better."

"But you're not better enough. Sam, I need you at the top of your game before we go running after another demon. I have to know that you can fend for yourself if something should happen to me."

"I can!" Sam insisted. "You've seen me fight in much weaker situations. Dean, you know how many time's I've been about to pass out, but I keep fighting. Can you honestly tell me that a little numbness in my legs is going to keep me from protecting myself?"

Dammit, the little punk is right. He may not be in peak physical condition, but he rarely is at the end of a fight and he always ends up on top. Just like me. Dean sighed, defeat written across his face. Sam wasn't giving this up, and Dean had to admit he, too, was getting a bit stir crazy just sitting in this town. It was time to leave. Their destination was over three thousand miles away, a good three days drive if they pushed it. But Dean planned to make it a nice leisurely drive, and if luck was on his side, Sam would be well enough to fight by the time they hit the town.

"Fine," Dean answered shortly. "You want to go. We'll go. But if you can't cut it, you're on your own. I'm not saving your scrawny little butt when you find out you can't save yourself."

Sam had smiled, that evil little smile that told Dean he'd seen right through the facade. Sam knew there was no way Dean would ever let him get hurt if he could help it. And there were people in far worse shape than he was. People were dying. With victory his, Sam returned to the laptop, preparing himself mentally for the fight against the creature that the town referred to as the Devils Elbow destroyer.

xxxxxxx

And here they were, two days later, loading up the car as Laura and Harry watched on unhappily. Dean had spent all of yesterday trying to explain to Laura that it had never been his plan to remain in the town. This last month and a half has been absolutely amazing, Dean had assured her, massaging her hands tenderly. But Sam and I have to be moving on. People need our help. This is our job.

Laura had spent hours pleading with Dean to stay, and finally blurted Well then take me with you. I could help!

Dean had shaken his head firmly, releasing her hands from his as he'd walked away in a panic. He hadn't seen that coming. Quite honestly, he hadn't even foreseen their relationship going as far as it did. Dean had never had a relationship that lasted much longer than an extended fling. The feelings he'd discovered he had for Laura scared him much more than any ghost or demon he'd ever encountered. Laura, I promise we'll keep in touch. I'll come back to visit and you can join me whenever it's safe. Or we can just call this quits. Whatever you want to do, I'll accept. The ball's in your court.

Laura followed him to where he stood facing the wall, her hand closing gently around his arm, turning him to face her. Tears had brimmed in her eyes as she realized her choices were limited. But she'd answered hesitantly, her time with the hunter telling her that if a choice wasn't made one would be made for her, and she might not like the outcome. I guess we keep in touch and see where this takes us, she'd whispered, her head falling heavily against his chest as the tears began to fall. God, I'm going to miss you.

I'm gonna miss you too, Dean had assured her, kissing the top of her head. I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time.

But now Laura stood with her back against the building, arms crossed, and completely withdrawn into herself. She looked so uncertain with the tears staining her cheeks as she alternated between looking longingly at Dean and refusing to make eye contact with him entirely. Mostly, she spent her time drawing circles in the sidewalk with the toe of her shoe.

Beside her, Harry also stood with arms crossed as he watched Dean throw the last of their gear into the car. Sam was the only one missing from this equation and he soon appeared from within the room, leaning his weight on the pair of canes he held, one in each hand. Six days earlier he'd ditched the crutches and upgraded to the black polished canes, referring to them affectionately as his 'old man gear.' His legs still wobbled slightly, and he favored the right leg, dragging it ever so slightly behind him. But considering he had no movement or sensation just a month ago, the results were incredible.

"Rooms clear," Sam announced, pausing in the doorway to make his announcement. "We got everything. Let's hit the road."

Laura flinched, knowing this was it. In just a few minutes they would be gone. As Dean approached her she pulled back. If I don't let him touch me, then it can't be the last time I feel him. He'll have to stay. He'll have to fight for me. But Dean persisted, pulling her forcefully toward him, embracing her in a tight hug. She had no choice but to comply, and with tears in her eyes she buried her head into his chest. Her arms wrapped around him in a death grip. "I don't want you to go," she sobbed, her voice muffled by Dean's t-shirt.

"I don't have a choice," Dean replied in hushed tones. "There are so many people out there who need my help. I have to go."

As Dean and Laura experienced their heartfelt good-bye's, Sam and Harry were creating their own special moment. Sam transferred the cane from his right hand into the left, holding both tightly, and leaning heavily on that side. He pursed his lips into a tight smile, holding his hand out to Harry. "I just can't thank you enough for everything you did for me," Sam voiced, clutching his therapists hand tightly. "There's no doubt in my mind that I'm walking because of you. You saved my life."

The old man's eyes watered, threatening to spill over at any second. "You saved your own life, son. I just helped you find the way. I'm so proud of you." Shoving precedent aside, Harry stepped forward and closed his arms around his patient in a huge bear hug. "Just keep up the work. And keep me posted."

Sam nodded, patting Harry on the back. "Of course. I've got your address."

"Come on, Sam. We gotta get moving." Dean's voice boomed through the air almost too loudly, overcompensating as he tried to hide the waver of emotion. This wasn't the time or the place to lose it.

Sam nodded and made his way to the car, easing himself into the seat and clutching the canes in both hands. Dean slid more gracefully into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition, eager to get out of there before he could glance the waterfall the most assuredly was pouring out of Laura's eyes. His right hand turned the dial on the car stereo blasting music loud enough to drown out anything she might say as they pulled away. Damn, this is gonna be harder than I thought. What the hell did that chick do to me? Revving the engine, Dean roared out of the parking lot, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in his wake. They were on the interstate in a matter of minutes, with the skyline of university buildings getting smaller and smaller with every car they passed. It was almost ritualistic the way both boys said silent goodbyes to everything that had happened in that town. The good. The bad. The indifferent. Dean still hadn't decided if he would actually keep in touch with the girl who had stolen his heart. It wouldn't be fair to her, him always running off on job after job. But was it fair to him to be alone all the time? This was the first girl who actually knew what he did, and she was OK with that. What were the chances? It didn't matter. He had a full three thousand miles to make that decision. And right now there were more important things to discuss. "So tell me about this town, Sam. Tell me about Devils Elbow, Missouri."

Don't worry guys, there's still more to come...