Glad to see that someone's interested in this! Hope I can keep you all waiting with bated breath for more!

Two Months Later

The constant beeping of the machines keeping Dean alive was drowned out by the loud yelling issuing from his room. John and Sam were at it again.

"We killed it," Sam argued, "nothing's changed with him. I'm leaving, and you can't stop me."

"Your brother needs you!" John retorted, "if you leave now, it'll kill him."

"He's as good as dead, anyway," Sam yelled, storming from the room, the truth was, the past two months had been incredibly hard on him. Dean had been in a coma, and, though the doctors had tried multiple times to wake him, he was still out.

If he ever woke up, the experts said, he would have to learn to walk and talk again. He wouldn't be able to do anything for himself. The accident had been that bad. It would be a hard recovery.

Sam had been itching to leave since the accident. It wasn't that he didn't love his brother, didn't understand the sacrifice the older man had made, he just hated seeing him like that. Hooked up to all those machines. Weak and helpless. A shell of his former self. So Sam left.

He had bought a car, a newer Impala, in honor of his brother's wrecked heap of faithful metal, the month before in anticipation of his flight. Now was the best time to put the car to use. He slid in behind the wheel and hung his head, memories of his latest fight with his father still fresh in his mind.

Their first fight after the accident had been, of course, over Dean. Every fight lately had. John had wanted to pull the plug. Sam had stopped him, though he had no idea why. His brother wouldn't want to live like this, he knew, but something had made him fight his father. Call it brother's intuition. Something good was bound to come from this mess.

And something had. Fueled by rage and an assortment of various other raw emotions, Sam and his dad had gone head-to-head with the demon that had caused their family so much pain. Both men had been injured, but the occasional cut or sprain was nothing compared to what they'd done to the demon.

After that, though, things had gotten steadily worse. Now Sammy was going back to his normal life. Finally, he was going back to school, back to his friends, back to reality. The drive would be a long one, but he needed desperately to clear his head, so it was fine.

He would go to school, forget about hunting, forget about demons, forget about dad. He would forget about Dean. Again.


The 2001 Chevy Impala pulled up outside the darkened apartment complex. Sam got out, slamming the door behind him. He'd bought the apartment before even seeing it. The wonders of the internet.

Sammy mounted the steps up to his new home, pulling out the keys he'd picked up earlier that day. He tried to convince himself that everything would work out in time if he could just have a normal life. Everything would be OK if he just opened the door and walked in.

The lock tumbled back and Sam walked into his cramped new apartment, flipping on the lights. He screamed.

"Took you long enough," Dean muttered, "you know, Sammy, speeding's only illegal if they catch you." He was stretched out on the couch, his feet resting comfortably on the small coffee table in the center of the room.

"Dean? How? When I left…"

Dean stood up and took a cautious step toward his brother. "You all right, Sam? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Sam's mouth hung open and he quickly took a step back towards the door. He couldn't believe his eyes. "You're standing in the middle of the table."

Dean glanced casually down at his feet, which would not have been visible from his point of view. "That I am," he muttered, "good to see your eyes still work." He took a step back, grinning. "Sorry 'bout that. Didn't see it. It's really only solid to me if I realize it's there, anticipate, you know? Sam?"

Sam had run out the door, tears streaming down his face. He couldn't believe it. His father had pulled the plug. Dean was dead and it was all his fault. If he had stayed in Sacramento, at his brother's bedside, instead of just walking out, things would be different. Dean wouldn't be haunting him.

Still crying, he fumbled the car keys out of his pocket. He had to get back to California, had to find his father, had to shove this new fiasco in the man's face. "Dean's a ghost, dad. You wanna shoot him, or should I?"

Swiping at his eyes, Sammy collapsed into his car, leaning back into the soft seat, panting. After everything he and his brother had been through, he couldn't believe it was ending like this. A ghost. A spirit. Sworn enemy of the Winchester family.

"Where we going?"

Sam nearly jumped through the roof at the unexpected sound of his brother's voice. He turned to see the older man sitting in the passenger seat, smiling.

"Dude, nice car," Dean muttered, gazing around, "a little small, kind of modern, but still better than what's left of mine."

"What? How'd you get in here?"

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Have you learned nothing? Spirits can pretty much move freely. Except for that Constance bitch, she kinda stuck away from her house."

"Dad pulled the plug?" Sam asked quietly, trying hard to not meet his brother's eyes.

Dean shrugged. "I dunno. I just went after you."

"What?" Sammy looked up, puzzled, "how? You're in a coma. You have no idea what's going on around you."

"That college education's no good in the real world, you know that? When I wrecked the car I, I dunno, left my body. I thought I was dead. Instead, I was just so out of it I might as well have been. I've been hanging around like this the whole time, watching you and dad bicker over the stupidest things."

"Did you ever try to go back? Into your body, I mean. In theory, that should bring you out of the coma."

Dean hung his head, sighing heavily. "I've thought about it. But when I heard the doctors talking, I just wasn't sure it was worth it. I needed some time to think it through, you know? So I kind of…" he trailed off.

"You're the one who made me keep you alive?"

"Well, I figured dad wouldn't listen. All I had to do was mess with you in your sleep, a couple of sweet nothings whispered during the day. You did exactly what I wanted you to."

"You manipulated me."

"I had to, Sam. I didn't know what was gonna happen to me. I just needed time."

"Well," Sam sighed, the wheels turning in his head as he formed a plan to fix the problem at hand, "how's that working out?"

"Great, actually. I was thinking of giving life another try when you walked out. I figured that dad wouldn't stick around long if I woke up, and with you gone, I dunno, life just ain't worth living."

"So you followed me here. Why?"

"Simple," Dean answered, "I like making your life miserable. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out."

Sammy sighed, slamming the door and starting the car. His jaw set, he pulled into the street in front of the apartment. He knew what he had to do.

"Where we going?" Dean asked again.

"California. I'm making this right, whether you want me to or not."