A/N: Okay, so, here is the last chapter of that pitiful arc. Honestly, I have no idea where I want to go anymore. My creative juices are gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. So yeah, the story might suck for a while, but bear with me, I go through waves. (Blame it on my teachers who give us those stupid finals that determine our futures… what are they thinkin'? Oh, and tomorrow is the last day of school... and pray that my project went over well and bumps that 89.74 to an A... because if I don't make honor roll, well I may very well be disowned and being disowned means no more story.)

Anyway, this is the end of part one. And I'm not sure if I want to continue it as a new story… or just on here. Which is easier for all you? Go ahead and tell me what you'd prefer and I'll take the majority.

Oh, and one last thing. Thank you so much for all the reviews, and I know I said I'd post fast… but again, blame my teachers. Especially my chemistry teacher.

So, here you go. Read and review, but most of all enjoy.

Warnings: Same.

Disclaimer: Same.

TAKE THREE: DEAN

A gunshot rang out and Dean's eyes flew open as he hit the ground.

What the hell?

Dean lifted his head and saw his father lying on h is back, Sam pointing the gun at him.

Again, what the freaking hell?

Sam was rushing to his side, grabbing his arms softly. "Dean, are you okay?" Sam whispered urgently.

Dean was suddenly aware of how much pain he was in.

But he couldn't answer. He was trying to hard to shake off this déjà vu.

Their father was laughing in the middle of the room, a deep shaking laughter that alerted Dean to the fact that John wasn't alone in his "meat suit".

Déjà vu had never seemed so real before. This had happened before, differently, but so similar, he was sure, why couldn't he shake off this haze?

"Where's Dad?" The words flew from his mouth, before he'd even tried to speak. He felt the vibrations in his throat, but didn't remember using any energy to cause it.

Then it all happened slowly.

John got to his feet, his leg bending awkwardly under his weight. Dean guessed the bullet must have damaged the muscle or bone. Hell, maybe both, life seemed to be treating them that way lately.

"Oh Sammy!" He called.

Sam turned, raised the gun warningly and "John" paused and willed himself not to take a step back.

So the demon did fear. He feared that gun.

Or maybe he feared Sam.

"Sam… you gotta… Dad's in there…" Dean hissed through each wave of pain.

God it felt like something was still tearing him apart.

"I know, Dean. I know." Sam whispered softly. "He'd want us to end it, you know." Sam muttered. Dean nodded knowingly.

"Some things are more important…" Dean whispered back. That was when Sam was torn from him. "No!" Dean cried as Sam was once again pined to the wall.

But this time, there was no one to help him. Dean knew, he knew perfectly well, that he was helpless to do anything but watch.

"My son, why do you fight this?" The demon asked. "This is your destiny. It's what you were born to become. Don't you get it?" He asked. "If you embrace this… all that pain will disappear. You won't remember the pain of losing Jess, of your mother…" he looked upon Dean. "Or even of losing your brother."

"I'm right here, you bastard." Dean had tried to yell, but his voice was merely a whisper, not even that, more of rasp.

"Human emotions… feelings, they'll all be in the past. There will be nothing more to fear. Sam, you will become fear."

Sam didn't answer. He stayed silent.

And his silence was more of an answer than the demon could have ever hoped for. John's face slowly morphed into a smile. "That's it, son."

Dean struggled to sit. "No, Sammy… you can't. He's lying." Dean explained. Sam turned to him, his face stoic, but his eyes overflowing with tears.

"It's the only way to save you, Dean." Sam whispered and then turned back to the demon. Dean shook his head.

"No! Sam, we can find another way… Damn it! I'd rather die than let you do this…"

"But I wouldn't…" Sam whispered softly and let the darkness take him.

"No! Sammy, no!" Dean struggled to his feet and ran to his brother and "father", throwing himself between them.

Something that had been pulled so tight, stretched beyond capacity, snapped somewhere. It snapped and retracted in a hundred different directions.

Somehow, the ties between father and son, brother and brother, Sam and light, had been severed.

Even with Dean in the middle, trying to hold them both together.

There was a blinding flash of pain, the sound of a body hitting the ground, and then stillness.

Dean stirred on the ground when a sharp kick to the ribs forced him back in consciousness.

"Oh good, I thought you were dead." It was Sam. Dean looked up into his brother's eyes.

No. It wasn't Sammy anymore.

"Just like Daddy." Sam muttered, crouching down next to Dean, running his hand over his brother's forehead. "You could join me, you know… it's heavenly Dean, not having those pesky emotions anymore. You never knew this… but I was hurting so much. Every second killed me more and more inside. I know you saw it, I've been dying since the day you took me from school." Suddenly a terrible pain erupted in Dean's abdomen.

Dean looked down to find the source of his pain. Sam's hand. Just his touch seared through him like a white hot blade.

"That's just a taste, big brother." He mocked. "I can feel it all flowing through my veins. This is what I've been destined to do… I can't believe I was running from this."

"Sam." Dean cried out in anguish. "Please, Sammy if you're in there…"

"I'm right here, Dean. This is Sam. Look at your little brother now, Dean." Sam demanded, grabbing the collar of Dean's shirt and forcing him to sit up. "Look at what you and Dad have done to me."

Dean shook his head. "No… you wouldn't… this isn't you. Sam isn't… wouldn't. You're not my brother."

Sam's face clouded in anger and he stood, taking Dean with him. "You're right…" Sam agreed, his voice taking on a deeper, more demonic voice. "Sam is dead." Then he threw Dean against the wall.

Dean's head hit first, and his eyes closed.

He didn't try to open them again.

TAKE FOUR: SAM AGAIN

"Please, Sammy if you're in there…" The voice seemed to carry on a phantom wind. Sam lifted his head and looked at the still dead body of Dean Winchester.

No miracles today.

"Stop it." Sam whispered, clamping his hands over his ears. "Stop coming to me!" He yelled and reached over and yanked the plug out of the wall. He listened as the machines stopped and stopped forcing Dean's heart to beat.

Sam grabbed his brother's hand. "I love you." He whispered and let his head fall forward.

"I never want to be a vegetable, Sam." Dean has whispered after a particularly long stay at the hospital. "If I get to the point that I'll never be able to do anything on my own… just kill me. Promise?"

"Same goes for me." Sam had whispered. "I don't want to live trapped in my own mind like that…" My mind is too dark for that.

"There. Now we're all free." Sam whispered and fell asleep.

TAKE FIVE: JOHN AGAIN

Suddenly he couldn't walk any farther. He'd gotten lost long ago and had no hope of finding his way back to Dean… not that that was really Dean anyway.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, John Winchester let his guard down. He laid down on the ground, suddenly too tired to move, and fell asleep.

- - -

She ran her wrinkled hand through her graying red hair and sighed, opening her eyes. "I told you, I can't hold all three of them…" She sighed. "John fought too hard… and Sam… well he's got those powers."

"And the brother?"

"He's got a heart of gold, father. He'd be impossible to turn."

"What now?"

She shrugged. "Now… we wait for the storm to build."

Mwah ha ha. :) I just wanted to do that.

So, yeah... start part two on a new thread? Or just this one. Whaddya think?