Title: Snap out of it Sam. (Final Chapter)

Chapter: 6

Author: Zenamydog

Rating: PG 13?

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing/Characters: Sam/Dean, John (Pre-Slash)

Warnings: Spoilers (big ones) for episode one. Season two.

Beta: missyjack

Feedback: Makes it all worth while!

Disclaimer: As if? Well? If I owned them, they wouldn't be plastered across the internet.

SUMMARY: Set after Devil's Trap. John knows about Sam's visions. What happens when he sees one for the first time?

Dean kicked into protective mode, in one fluid movement Dean broke his father's grip on Sam and shoved him hard, harder than intended, away from his brother.

"You're hurting him!" Dean snarled.

AN: This is the first fic. I ever wrote. Warts and all. I finally finished it! Whohoooo!

A heart felt thank you to missyjack who beta'd for me, when my other beta's didn't want to be spoiled. Thank you so so much!

(Could be read as a stand alone)

Chapter Six

Six weeks. Oh my God it had been six weeks since the night that had changed his life. The night he had come face to face with the pure evil that had taken his Mother and his girlfriend.

Now, as Sam tried to grab a few hours sleep, between his vigil at the hospital and the day-to-day work it was to just keep breathing, Sam realized it may have taken his brother as well.

"I'm sorry Mr. Dawson," the doctor had said to his father. "There really isn't anything more we can do for Dean. You may need to start thinking…"

"What?" His Dad almost barked. "Thinking what?"

Sam was hanging back from the conversation. He knew where it was leading, but he couldn't bring himself to be a part of it.

Taking a deep breath, this part of his job was never easy, the doctor said "You may need to think about taking Dean off life support."

"No!" Sam was suddenly in the thick of it. "No fucking way!"

John put his hand on Sam's shoulder. Both as comfort and because Sam looked like he was about to kill the guy.

"Sam" John warned.

Sam looked directly at the Doctor and then back to his father. Shit Sam's face paled. "Not going to happen." Sam says gruffly, looking to his father for reassurance.

There was a small glimmer in his father's eyes, like he actually might be considering it.

I will never… never forgive you Dad! Sam thinks, and hopes it reads clearly on his face.

"No." John says after what seems like a life time to Sam, and the relief he feels is palpable.

"No." John says again, but adds, "Not yet."

Not yet? Sam's mind yelled at him, his protest not making its way to his mouth before he was guided quickly away by John's hand on his shoulder.

Shifting in his bed, trying to will himself to sleep, Sam pondered the last several months.

Finding the Colt; the three of them united after so long. His vision helping to save Rosie, and helping to finally find the demon.

Shooting the demon, shooting his father. It was all one blur until the moment the semi hit. The memories were clear from the moment he woke. Way too clear.

He remembers feeling for his father's pulse, because John was closer.

He remembers climbing frantically, desperately, over the front seat not caring how much it hurt, to get to Dean.

Taking his brother in his arms and pressing down feverishly on his chest to try and stop the blood flow.

How when Dean came too for the brief moment, every painful emotion he felt came pouring out of him in the form of a crushing kiss to Dean's lips.

And God, did Dean know, did he understand that Sam tried to show the sheer intensity of his love for him in that kiss?

Sam had never kissed his brother, not on the lips anyhow, but he didn't know what else to do. No time, no time, just show him.

If Sam lost Dean, then he just had to make sure he knew. He had to know.

Closing his eyes, he said a silent prayer. Please God, please.

Absently rubbing the dull pain in his stomach, Sam finally let sleep take him.

This vision was mocking him. It came while he was awake; it came while he was asleep. It came, and it just kept coming. Always, always the same. He figured its persistency meant that he had to address it, but… It just made no sense to him at all. Dean was unconscious, God he was all but dead, there was no way he could be anywhere near a cliff, let alone about to jump off of it. Confusion rained in Sam's head. "Why does it keep coming back?" Dean stood near the edge of the cliff and looked down. "God" he thought, "It's so beautiful. Almost like falling to heaven." And then, as an after thought, he added. "Only, I know I am going to hell." Sam stood watching. Oh God! I don't want to see this again! Fuck! Why? Why do I keep seeing you die Dean? Why? Sam once again looked on helplessly.

"One more step and it would be all over. One more step and there would be no more pain. Dean laughed quietly. It's not worth it anymore." Dean's throat hitched. "You hear me!" Dean suddenly shouted out loud. Looking up to the sky, with his hands outstretched, Dean continued. "You win! You win you son of a bitch! I can't do this anymore! I can do this without…" Deans voice trailed off, sounding defeated "Its over." He said, lowering his head. Then Dean turned, and Sam could have sworn he was looking directly into his eyes. Softly, with tears in his voice, he said, "I love you Sammy! I always have!" The moment those words left his mouth, Dean took that step, that step, to no more pain.

It always ended here, only this time it didn't. The inevitable end. The one that saw Dean leaping over that cliff edge. The step that would always wake Sam up with a startle, and his brother's name on his lips.

Only he didn't wake up. He was still asleep. He was still dreaming.

Sam felt himself shift in his dream state. It was a really weird feeling, being aware you're standing in a dream.

Only Sam knows it's not a dream, but it's not quite a vision either.

Shit! Sam could almost hear himself think.

This…..this happened a few days back. I remember sitting there doing that.

Sam watched the unfolding of events that had already taken place.

Sam sat at his computer screen. He had researched until his fingers were numb. He realized that the last time he had done this, Dean was fighting for his life against a preacher's wife, and a Reaper that had been bound.

Reapers? Sam mused. How many of them dwell in hospitals? Hospitals like the one where his brother lay unconscious.

Sam had an uncontrollable need to research reapers all of a sudden.

Bringing the reaper search up on the screen, Sam looked keenly through weary yet hopeful eyes. Sam felt something. It was like a lingering breath on his right ear.

Dean stood over Sam's shoulder, saddened by the pained and exhausted look on his brother's face. It was obvious he was sleep starved, and God how much weight had he lost?

Touching, almost swatting at his ear, Sam returned to his reading.

It appeared that being an in-between entity had its perks. Because he so totally didn't mind the feeling, yes feeling, of his brother, still fighting tooth and nail for him.

He…he felt proud. "Thanks for not giving up on me Sammy!" Dean said out loud, even though he knew his brother or Dad couldn't hear.

Staring at the small screen Dean caught a flicker of something. Just an ever so small snippet. "You sonofabitch!" he exclaimed. Not sure whether to punch the air triumphantly or spit at the thought he had been suckered. "Fuck. She's the Reaper." Dean finally understood.

Dean wishes his brother could see his huge grin. He really wanted to tell Sam and his Dad that he is hanging in there.

He so wished his brother would smile. He missed it. He so wanted to take the pain in his little brother's eyes, and his Dad's for that matter, away.

But Sammy. Sammy looks so lost.

Then as if on cue, John lifted his head and grunted "I think I may have something here. Something that could save Dean."

A split second later, Dean got what he wished for. Sam's head flew up.

It was brief, but Dean caught it.

Sam smiled.

Hearing his son wake with a fright. John got off the couch, where he had fallen asleep.

"Sam?" He's father questioned gently.

"Yeah Dad. Ahh, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."

John moved to sit at the end of Sam's bed. "Another vision?" He asked quietly and with more sensitivity than he gave himself credit for.

"Don't really know anymore Dad." Sam admitted. "I mean, it can't really be a vision. Not really. Not with Dean…." Fresh tears threatened to fall. "Not with Dean, you know… so hurt."

"Is this the same vision you had that day at the apartment in Salvation?" John asked. He knew it was about Dean, but he didn't know the details.

Getting up, Sam stretched his arms out and grimaced a little at the ache in his stomach. "How long have I been asleep for anyhow?" Sam tried to change the subject.

"Sam?" His father knew exactly what he was doing. "Is it the same vision?"

"Yeah," Sam said softly, "it is."

"Well don't you think it's time you told me about it?" It was phrased as a question, but Sam knew he had no choice.

His mind reeled as he told his father everything. He wondered why he hadn't before, but it just didn't seem important and he worried about John's reaction.

John's face changed slightly as Sam related what he'd seen. The thought of Dean ending his own life weighed heavily. He wanted to scream "Not a chance in hell, not Dean." But he just listened.

When Sam finally sat, not really looking at his Dad, he sighed. Something on the edge of his thoughts, of his memory.

"And it's always the same?" John asked, trying to keep the distaste out of his voice.

"Yeah" Sam said sounding defeated, "except…" Sam stood again, bringing his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. It all came flooding back, and Sam couldn't help but feel, dared to feel, a glimmer of hope.

"I don't know what the hell it has to do with Dean jumping off a cliff, but…"

He saw his father's jaw tighten. "Dean was here." Sam said trying to remember all the details.

"Dean was standing behind me. Fuck Dad. Dean's" and what the hell was it anyway? "spirit was standing right fucking there!" Sam motioned to where the laptop was sitting.

Johns face shifted slightly at his boy's cussing. He knew Sam had been through so much. He realized with no small amount of guilt, Sam was a man now, and he never really got to see the boy.

For a lingering moment, Sam bought his hand to his ear.

"I remember feeling something pass my ear when he lent in to take a closer look at the monitor. Sam said, almost lovingly.

"He? Being Dean?" John asked cautiously.

"Yes Dad! Dean!" Sam really felt, well he didn't know how he felt actually, but he grabbed on with both hands.

Any connection to Dean was better than none. "I don't know what is happening Dad. But Dad…Dean is walking around; it's just his body that is in that hospital."

John knew this wasn't the time for skepticism. "Do you have any idea where he is now?"

Sam just now thought of the ramifications. Was Dean watching them?

Taking a breath, Sam became Sammy at the thought of his big brother there in the room with him. The little boy in him wanted so desperately to run and cling to him.

Sam only half realized that the man in him wanted the same thing.

"Can you feel him son? John asked, his face showing no trace of judgment.

It felt strange, his father asking him something like that.

Had his Dad accepted Sam's "abilities," or simply accepted the fact that he and Dean had an unspoken bond?

Sam closed his eyes as he sat next to his father. He had never really tried to feel anyone before.

As he began to slow his breaths and reach out with his mind, he saw a flicker of light behind his eyes.

DEAN! He reached again. God he so wanted to connect, but he wasn't sure what that even meant.

Sam called out again and again, but it was starting to wear him down physically. Leaning forward he put his head in his hands, this was causing that all too familiar migraine, the visions bring on.

"Sam?" His Dad asked with a concerned voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah" Sam answered, defeat in his voice. "I'm Okay, but Dean's not here. Or if he is, I can't tell."

Sam made his way up the all too familiar hallway of the hospital. Another two weeks had passed and the hope he had was starting to fade again.

His father had been gone for two days, not bothering to tell Sam where, only that if they were going to save Dean, it would have to been soon, and he needed to do some research.

Sam wondered, since the moment his Dad had told him about finding a possible answer, why he wouldn't let him in on it.

It had caused some tension, which bubbled close to the surface. Why was his Dad being so secretive?

Opening the door to Dean's room, Sam felt the room temperature drop. That usually meant something ghostly and supernatural.

He had all but stopped coming to see Dean, knowing that it was just his shell, that his Dean was elsewhere.

"Dean?" Sam asked, looking around and pulling a seat beside the bed.

"Yeah you asshole" Dean said, sitting at the foot of his own bed. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you. It's getting harder and harder to move from this room, and you haven't been here for two fucking weeks!"

Sam reached out and covered Dean's hand with his own. "Sorry I haven't been to visit, but…well, I figured out you weren't really here. I mean…I saw you, I know your spirit or whatever came to the motel."

"Dean?" Sam said again, looking around, looking straight past, straight through his brother.

Dean jumped off the bed and started to pace. "You figured it out?" Dean spluttered. "Then why the fuck aren't you doing something?"

"I don't know what to do." Sam said squeezing Dean's hand slightly.

Dean grinned. "You sure you can't hear me little bro?"

"I wish I could hear you." Sam said then, and Dean started to laugh.

"Yeah me too," Dean replied as the smile slipped from his face. "There's a lot I need to say. You need to get yourself some treatment, and I want to kick your ass, because you've let this go so far."

How do I communicate with you Sammy, how can I make you understand you need help?

Dean had already figured out that he couldn't do anything, couldn't grasp or hold things that where from that dimension. Not that he knew what dimension he was in. Somewhere between the curtain of life and death, she had told him.

She? The reaper. She had tricked him into believing she was just another soul, waiting to pass over, tried to convince him (seduce him really) into coming with her. Crossing over.

"Who the hell are you?" He had asked. "John Edwards? I'm not leaving my family. I'm not leaving my Dad and Sammy. No way."

When he did know the truth, after seeing one of the forms it could take on Sam's laptop, he had confronted her.

"Sam could die if I'm not there." He said to her. I have to protect him.

"He will anyhow" she told him.

Dean's hands fisted into a ball. "What's that suppose to mean?" he said, his voice deep and low and threatening.

"He's killing himself Dean. Can't you see that?" She almost mocked.

"I haven't seen anything; I don't seem to be able to leave the hospital anymore!" Dean retorted as a feeling of dread washed over him.

"The decision has been made Dean. I'm sorry. Your body is too broken. You can walk the hospital for as long as you want but, well… I'm sorry. I can't force you to come with me. But I can tell you that, if you don't, your brother will die."

Dean was relieved when he grabbed for her and threw her against the wall. He hadn't been sure if his hands would just pass through her.

"What the fuck do you mean?" he spat. "If you hurt him I swear…!"

"I don't hurt people." Her voice was so sickly sweet, Dean just wanted to scream, "I just guide them."

Dean's mind reeled. "So what? He's gunna get careless on a hunt or something?"

"He's on my, to keep track of list." She answered "He has a bleeding ulcer."

Letting go, Dean began to laugh. "An ulcer? You're kidding, right? Ulcer's don't kill people." He shook his head in disbelief.

"They do if there not treated Dean. While you're here," she motioned towards his body, "he won't pay attention, and he won't get treatment. Eventually he will choke on his own blood."

Dean felt panic grip him. He remembered how skinny and haggard his brother had looked. "So…so what's to say if I go with you, it won't happen anyway?"

"Because while he thinks he can save you, nothing else matters. Not eating or sleeping, or paying attention to himself. When you're not around to save……" She shrugged. "I don't know for sure, I just know he is on my list right now.

"So it's not a forgone conclusion then?" Dean questioned with urgency in his tone.

"No Dean, it's not." She smiled, knowing he was closer to accepting his fate.

"He's in a lot of pain." She continued, pushing her advantage. "Mind, body and soul. But like I said, he has no hope of healing while he looks for ways to save you."

Okay, okay. Dean thought, I just have to warn him, get him to a Doctor. I just have to…..

"No Dean." Fuck. Was she reading his mind or what? "Sam will pay a price for that also. Contact at this point will not be permitted."

Dean stood looking at Sam, seeing clearly for the first time how damaged he looked.

Sam sat, resting his forehead on the bed, his hand still gripping his brother's. "Dude, if you're here…" he started to say. Tears were beginning to burn in his eyes. "I've tried. I'm still trying. I won't stop, but…I…I just need you to try okay? I need you to come back."

Dean started to pace again. "Fuck her! No contact my ass!"

Walking over to his brother he stood in his personal space. "Sammy? Come on Sammy. You gotta know I'm here." He put his hand gently to Sam's face.

Sam lifted his head from the bed, and looked around. "That's it Sammy. That's it."

"Dean?" Sam's eyes widened.

Dean bent down and blew as hard as he could in his brother's ear. "Yeah Jerk, I'm here" He smiled, affection in his voice.

"Dean?" Sam brought his hand to his ear, and stood up.

Dean's grin almost split his face. "Now." Dean said out loud. "How can I…?"

Clicking his fingers, he cursed himself. Why hadn't he thought of it before? "Ouija board Sammy! You have to get a Ouija board and bring it here."

"Dean?" Sam said again. "I am going to try something. I need your help, well…I'm not really sure you can, but…."

Sam moved away from the chair and stood still. "I'm going to reach out to you Dean. He said. "With my mind. I don't know if it will work, but I have to try."

Dean raised an eyebrow. This is new. He thought.

What Dean didn't know, was that Sam had tried this before. He had tried it often, with no success. He also didn't know that Sam trying to use his "abilities" in this way had caused all sorts of ramifications. Headaches, pain and nosebleeds.

Closing his eyes, Sam slowed his breathing. That familiar flash behind his eyes making him inhale sharply.

Slowly he reached and searched for his brother. "Dean?" A whisper this time, a look of concentration on his face.

"Sam?" Dean answered and Sam's eyes shot open.

"Dean, is that you?"

"Who else would it be little bro? You on first name basis with any other ghosts?"

He quipped.

"I can hear you!" Sam said looking in the direction the voice came from.

"Well it's about time man." Dean chuckled.

No contact? Huh! You don't know my brother, bitch. Dean thought smugly.

Sam smiled. "Yeah well, been real busy trying to save your ass. Sorry."

Dean chuckled again, but his face slowly changed to concern as he watched Sam scrunch his eyes in the effort it took to keep the connection.

"You okay dude?" Dean said, moving closer to his brother.

"Yeah," Sam said "but I can't do this for long. It kind of hurts."

"Hurts?" Dean frowned. That's when he noticed the small trickle of blood coming from his brother's nose.

"You're bleeding Sam." Dean reached out to his shoulder, but his hand passed right through it.

Sam dabbed at his nose with the back of his hand. "Side effect." He replied as if it were no consequence.

"Okay," Dean said, all business now. Real concern starting to bubble in his stomach.

"Why haven't you come back Dean?" Sam distracted him. "What's going on? Why haven't you woken up?"

Sighing Dean looked down. "God Sammy, I want to, but…My body is pretty fucked up. I…I'm not sure I'm going to be able to."

Sam clenched his fist, not sure if it was because of the onset of pain, or because he thought Dean was giving up.

"Don't you say that! Don't you dare say that! You're coming back okay! Dad's onto something. I don't know what it is. He won't tell me, but… Dean?" Sam's voice softened. "You gotta hang on okay? Please," he begged. "For me."

Always for you Sam. Dean wanted to say, but didn't.

Sam brought his hand to his brow, rubbing his forehead, trying to stave off the increasing pain.

Sam's hands were starting to shake, and Dean knew they didn't have much time.

Fuck! Is this what she meant by Sam paying the price?

"I'm not going anywhere Sam, I promise. But there are a few things you have to do before this gets any further." Dean said urgently.

"Further?" Sam got out, before he clutched at his stomach and bent over.

"Sam?" Panic in his voice. Dean was at his side, wishing desperately he could reach out to support him. "You've gotta listen Sam. You need to get yourself to a…"

Before Dean had a chance to complete the warning, Sam fell to his knees, clutching his head. The pain in his stomach was agony, but the searing pain through his head made the vision headaches look mild.

Dean dropped to his knees too. "Sammy listen to me!" He pleaded. "You have a stomach ulcer. It's bleeding and you have to see a Doctor straight away. Okay?"

Sam moaned loudly and Dean's stomach turned in on itself. "You hear me Sam! You're sick; you need to get some help. Sam?"

Sam's panted breaths started to slow as the pain subsided slightly. "Dean?" He looked up, sweat covering his brow.

"I'm here Sammy. I'm here. I'm right beside you bro." Dean answered. His voice thick with emotion. Christ. This was killing his brother.

"Dean?" Sam cried out again. "I've lost you Dean! I can't hear you!"

Shit! Dean thought.

On shaky legs, Sam got himself up and moved to the chair beside Dean's body.

"Just give me a sec." He said, putting his face in his hands. "I'll try again. Just..."

He ran his hand through his sweat soaked bangs. "I'll be good to go in a minute."

"The hell you will!" Dean screamed. "No Sam no! Don't try again, it's killing you!"

But it was no use. Sam could not hear him.

John sat on a haystack in the dilapidated barn. His fingers rubbing the smooth edges of the Colt.

"Well?" The raspy voice asked. "Is it a deal?"

"Yes," John said "The colt, the bullet, and I get one more year. It's a deal"

"You must love your son very much." It said to him.

"Yeah…yeah I do." John answered, and handed him the Colt.

Dean could see that Sam was steadying himself. Breathing deeply and wiping at his nose, which hadn't really stopped bleeding.

"Christ Sammy!" Dean felt every emotion of years protecting Sam, come to the surface. "No no, don't do this!" He gritted out between clenched teeth.

The decision was made. He really had no choice. Sam could not die for him. It had to be, was always going to be, the other way around.

Moving to the door, Dean turned and looked at his baby brother one last time.

"I know I said there was nothing…nothing that could make me do this Sam. But I was wrong. I'm so sorry Sammy, I'm so sorry." Tears welled in his eyes. "Goodbye bro." He turned to walk through the door.

Racing down the corridor of the hospital, Dean screamed. "Okay bitch, where are you? Come and get me. I'm ready!"

"Here I am." The male voice behind him said.

Dean wasn't surprised when he turned to see the reaper he had met after his electrocution. "Not hiding behind a woman's skirt any more I see." Dean snarled.

"Let's go Dean." The reaper said his voice almost gentle. "Sam is gifted beyond what even we knew. If he reaches for you again, then…."

Then what? Dean wanted to ask, but he was wasting precious time, and he guessed he already knew.

"So what happens now?" Dean asked impatiently. "Do I go through a door? Follow the light? What?"

"Close your eyes Dean, close your eyes and jump."

Dean did as he was told and closed his eyes. He felt the floor shift from under him, and he just wanted to laugh when he found himself near a cliff face. The view, breathtakingly beautiful. How could I have ever doubted you Sammy?

Sam sat with his arms wrapped around himself, rocking, trying to prepare himself for another attempt at reaching for Dean. "Okay, maybe a little more than a minute." He tried to sound light hearted, thinking Dean could hear him.

Before he started to concentrate, before he reached out to Dean, a familiar pain started to well up in Sam's head. Shit! Not now, not now! Grabbing the bridge of his nose, the vision came.

Sam watched on. Oh God! Not now. Why now?

"One more step and it would be all over. One more step and there would be no more pain. Dean laughed quietly. It's not worth it anymore." Dean's throat hitched. "You hear me!" Dean suddenly shouted out loud. Looking up to the sky, with his hands outstretched, Dean continued. "You win! You win you son of a bitch! I can't do this anymore! I can do this without…I won't let Sam do this. I can't." Deans voice trailed off, sounding defeated "Its over." He said, lowering his head.

Sam, do this? Huh? Sam couldn't remember Dean saying that before.

Dean turned, and Sam looked lovingly into his eyes. Softly, with tears in his voice, Dean said, "I love you Sammy! I always have!" The moment those words left his mouth, Dean turned, and stepped over the edge.

Sam screwed up his face as he slowly became aware he was back in the hospital. "Same vision" He explained to Dean. "Only you said….."

Looking up at the sound of the door, Sam couldn't believe it when his father came in.

"Dad!" Sam said and gave him a half smile.

His face changed to worry when his father was flanked by a doctor and an orderly.

John didn't say anything; he just took Sam by the elbow and guided him away from Dean's bed.

"What….what's going on Dad?" Sam's eyes widened when he saw the doctor move towards Dean's life support machines.

"What are you doing?" Sam started to move forward, but his father grabbed him around the waist from the front.

"Noooooooooooo!" He screamed when it became apparent that the Doctor was about to shut down Dean's ventilator.

Sam looked at his Dad pleadingly. When he didn't flinch, Sam started towards the doctor.

The orderly moved closer and Sam realized that was why he was here. To stop Sam physically, if need be.

Arms flailing. Hurtful desperate words came tumbling from his mouth. "I hate you! You fucking bastard! I'm going to kill you. You hear me! I'm going to fucking kill you!" John wasn't really sure if he was talking to him or the doctor.

Sam fought and fought, but he was too weak to be any kind of match.

Slowly the Doctor removed the tubing from Dean's throat.

Sam was completely broken. "Please Dad. Please don't do this." Sam would have gotten on his knees if he thought it would help.

John's jaw tightened as he felt his youngest son go limp in his arms.

"I will never forgive you for this," he whispered, staring at the heart monitor.

Beep, beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Sam did fall to his knees when he heard the piercing screech of the flat line.

"No, God," and "how could you?" ripped from his throat.

Then, when all was quiet except for Sam's unabated sobs, a sound ripped through the air.

Dean's chest rose, as he sucked in a full and painful breath.

Sam's head snapped up. "Dean!"

John smiled though his own tears. One more year. He thought. I have one more year and I'm going to make it count.

The End

AN: Well folks, that's it. It has been over a year since I first put fingers to keyboard on this fic. Still not the best I've done, but I really hope you enjoyed it anyhow. Either way, please let me know. REVIEWS are my hearts desire!