Thank you so much to those who have reviewed these stories so far. This is my take on one of my favourite episodes, "Faith" It may seem cruel but I plan to tug on the heartstrings with this one in some of the tender "chick flick moments." Muwhahaha!

It was dark. There was a low but heavy mist descending around the house that the Impala was pulling up to. We were at the final stages of a hunt we were on. Now was the moment to confront the sucker. Hopefully it would be smooth sailing. Though I had my doubts that we would come away without cuts and bruises.

Sam hoisted the lid of the trunk so that Dean could rake around.

"What you got those amped up to?" Sam asked as Dean held a taser gun in his hand.

"A hundred thousand volts" Dean replied with a smile.

"Damn" remarked Sam with raised eyebrows

"Yeah, I want this Rawhead extra frickin' crispy" Dean said, passing him one of the three tasers, "And remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count."

He turned his head and tossed me one. Heck, I was being trusted with a taser! Must be my luck day I thought to myself with a smirk. Dean slammed the lid of the truck down and we entered the abandoned house.

I scouted ahead, armed with my trusty flashlight and taser. I darted the flashlight about constantly, checking for any sign of moment. I reckoned if I could do it any faster I could write my full name. Cautiously, we attentively crept down into the basement. Rawheads are attracted to damp places, and from what I observed, this basement was beginning to swim. A loud rattle came from the old wooden closet nearby. We approached it, unsure of what might be inside. I hoped to God nothin would jump out and scare the livin' crap outta me. In fact it was kinda an anti climax, when we discovered two kids huddled together in fear.

"Is it still here?" Sam asked in a quiet whisper.

The poor lil' tykes just nodded. They'll be having nightmares for a while. Yet at their age, I'd seen and experienced worse things than a Rawhead. I was seven when I came across my first group of demons.

Dean looked at the little boy "Okay grab your sister's hand. We're gonna get you outta here. Come on let's go."

The kids didn't need a second telling. They grasped each others hand and clambered out the closet, Sam and I then began to usher them out the basement. Without warning, a hand shot out and grabbed Sam by the ankle, taking him by complete surprise. The little girl let out a frightened scream as Sam bumped down the stairs on his rear. I helped him onto his feet again.

"Ya didn't break your ass did you?" I sniggered to which he rolled his eyes at me.

"Sam get em outta here!" ordered Dean as he fired the taser at Sam's ankle grabber attacker, "Chris. Stay with me."

I hopped down the stairs and stood by my brother, my own taser still in my hands. I prayed I wouldn't have to fire it. I didn't trust myself that well with it. Sam disappeared with the kids, and me and Dean were left to face the Rawhead. I was in charge of the flashlight, scanning the area closely. We edged our way around the crates and boxes, the Rawhead was around for sure. I could feel it.

"Come on" hissed Dean impatiently.

Suddenly the Rawhead leapt out and smacked Dean in the face, sending him recoiling backwards into the wall, splashing into puddles of water. The Rawhead, who I must say resembled Bettlejuice, began to advance towards me. I froze on the spot, my feet rooted to the ground. From where I was standing I could see Dean scrambling for his gun which had skidded away from his reach. I gulped and aimed my gun at the Rawhead, my hand shaking uncontrollably, my heart pounding.

"Chris stand back!" I heard my brother yell.

I leapt back just as electric currents zapped into the body of the Rawhead. It gurgled and shivered as it froze on the spot in the middle of a puddle. To my horror that wasn't the only thing getting electrocuted. Dean was convulsing and spasms jerked his body as the electricity travelled throughout him. Being in the middle of a conductor, the water, didn't help matters at all. He lay motionless once the currents had passed.

"Dean!" I yelled in panic and alarm, dashing over to his unconscious figure.

I shook him roughly by the shoulders "Dean your scarin' me now. Wake up!"

Sam must have heard the commotion I was making and came to investigate. His eyes widened with fear and dread as he saw me beside Dean's unmoving body. He rushed over beside me. I was shaking with worry. This was all my fault. If I hadn't delayed with shooting the damn thing then maybe this wouldn't have happened. I swallowed as Sam checked Dean's pulse.

"He's alive," he sighed in relief, he whipped his head to me, "Come on we gotta get him to the hospital."

I nodded and fished out the car keys from Dean's jacket "I'll get the car ready."

I raced towards the car and swung the door open just as Sam came into view with Dean in his arms. I must say even though I was in red alert mode, a sight like that was pretty funny, I would be sworn to secrecy never to tell Dean. Dean was laid gently onto the backseat, I climbed in beside him as Sam started the car. The car sped away, shrieking down the back roads. We had to get Dean to the hospital. Pronto. Sam was forever glancing in the rear view mirror. Dean head rested on my lap, giving me the change to check his pulse now and again. I pressed my hand against his forehead. His temperature was dropping and his skin was getting pale. I gasped when I notice his lips were turning blue. Shit!

"Sam hurry!" I urged, anxiety riddling my voice, the car shot down the road.

I swear I could feel the car turn into the sharp corner on two wheels.

Whilst Sam was doing Grand Theft Auto, I could only cradle Dean's head. It was my fault he was like this. If I wasn't such a damn coward. The hospital zoomed into view and I dived out once the car stopped. I charged into the emergency room, blinded by worry and fear.

"Help!" I squawked, getting the staff's attention instantly, "I need help!"

Sam stumbled in behind me, carrying Dean. The doctors and nurses swarmed around him as he was taken away from us. My gaze followed him until he vanished from my vision. I felt two hands squeezing my shoulders, I glanced up, my eyes pricking with tears, Sam gave a very weak smile. His face bore the same expression as mine. Yet he knew he had to suck it up and be strong for my sake. This was all my fault.

Later

I sat in the ER reception, hands clasped together, head down and my right foot tapping impatiently on the floor. Sam was busy filling out insurance details last time I checked. It had been a several long hours and we still had no news on Dean condition. Stubborn as always, I refused to eat and sleep. I had to know if my brother was okay first. Otherwise, I'll remain a thorn in the ass. I groaned. How much longer would this torture end. The cops, who arrived minutes ago were talking to Sam over the incident. I lifted my head just to see them leave and the doctor to appear. I walked over to Sam, who placed a reassuring arm around my shoulders. By the look on the doctor's face, I knew the answer, the news I had been dreading. Bad news. It was one of the worst moments of my thirteen year old life. I held my breathe, my heart in my mouth.

"He's resting," said the doctor.

"And?" asked Sam and I in unison.

The doctor sighed "The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive. His heart is damaged."

Oh God! What have I done!

"How damaged?" questioned Sam.

The doctor replied "We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point, but I'd give him a couple of weeks at most, maybe a month."

At that last statement, I felt my heart drop, the lump in my throat bloated. Sam's fingers curled around the material of my denim shirt, he was trembling. No. This was bullshit. Dean wasn't dying. He couldn't be. He was invincible. Like Dad. He couldn't die. He couldn't leave me alone in this crappy world. I wasn't gonna to let him.

Sam was trying to keep his own emotions under control "No, No. There gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment."

The doctor said sadly "We can't work miracles. I really am sorry."

My life was crumbling before me. This wasn't happening. What hurt the most was knowing that my own lack of guts caused this. In a way, I had killed my own brother. I didn't know whether I could face him, knowing what I have done. With heavy hearts we went to find Dean.

He was sitting up in bed, flicking through the channels on the TV that was at the foot of his bed. I felt even worse when I saw his appearance. Under his eyes were dark circles and his face was gaunt and sickly white. I could almost sense myself switching on my Defensive Mute mode. It was a tactic I used whenever something bad happened that was the result of my carelessness . I would stop speaking, sometimes for hours, I could probably go longer if I tried hard enough. Yet I was so weak mentally that it failed to take effect. At first I refused to go in, but with encouragement from Sam, I was coaxed in.

Dean said "You ever actually watched Daytime TV. It's terrible."

Sam sighed heavily "I talked to your doctor."

Dean's attention was still on the TV "That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."

"Dean."

He put down the remote "Yeah. Alright. Looks like your gonna leave town without me."

I could see the tears welling in Sam eyes when he spoke up.

"What are you talkin about. We're not gonna leave you here."

Dean rested his head back on the pillow "Hey. Better take care of that car. Or I swear I'll haunt your ass."

Trust Dean to inject humour into a serious situation. Only me and Sam weren't in the mood for laughing.

Sam shook his head "I don't think that's funny."

Dean gave a small smirk "Ah come on it's a little funny."

He then said "Sam what can I say man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story."

No. No it wasn't end of story! The doctor said he couldn't perform miracles, that wouldn't stop me and Sam from trying. Letting Dean die wasn't an option by any means. We had to save Dean. We were gonna save Dean.

Sam voice was threatening to break "Don't talk like that alright. We still have options.

Dean responded "What options? Burial or cremation?"

Okay that was not funny. I tried to shove the image of a headstone bearing his name on it or the sight of him burning to ashes. Dean looked at our appalled reactions to his last statement.

"I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it"

Sam replied defiantly "Watch me."

I prayed that he wouldn't leave me in the room alone with Dean. But what did he do. He left me alone in the room with Dean. I felt like a frightened four year old again. Rock. Hard Place. Huge pile of crap. Then there was me. I dragged a chair behind me, and placed it at his bedside. I plonked myself down and continued to stare at my hands. I wanted to avoid eye contact or else I knew I'd break. I heard him sigh and I then felt his fingers lift my chin up so he could see my face. I couldn't break. I couldn't. I refused.

"Don't be scared," he said gently, "I'm not."

That was a lie. He was trying to build a wall, like me, to block his emotions. Deep down, this situation was scaring the shit outta him. He didn't want to die. There was unfinished business to do, checking out earlier wasn't an option. Besides, Frodo and Goliath needed him.

He continued "Like I said. Hunting is a risky game, this was bound to happen sooner or later, you and Sam's safety always comes first before mine."

This wasn't the right time though. We still needed to find Dad. Oh God. Who was gonna tell Dad. My chest tightened even more. No. This was not happening. The Great Wall of Me was weakening as I could feel the tickle of a teardrop glide down my face. I swatted it away with a trembling hand before Dean could see but another escaped, that one he saw.

"I'm proud of you, you know that," he said as he caught the tear with his thumb, "Mom would be too."

His kind words made me feel even worse. Bringing up Mom didn't help either.

"I'm sorry" I croaked.

"For what?"

"For being a coward."

I knew once I said that, I would be scolded. I was going to witness , once again, a 'Big Brother Monologue Moment'. He gave a small chuckle and raised an eyebrow.

"Chris, you are by far the bravest kid in the country. You defy anything that comes our way. You ain't a coward. You're a Winchester."

"But I wussed out with that damn Rawhead," I responded in an unhappy tone, "Now look what's happened."

"Ah don't worry 'bot it. It happens. Nobody's perfect," he said, he then paused and smirked, " Except for me of course."

I giggled half-heartedly only for several more tears to fall from my jade green eyes. I sniffed and rubbed my eyes. I felt exhausted. I hadn't had the chance to rest because I was so worried, and the fact that I refused.

"When was the last time you slept?" asked my brother.

"Dunno, I can't remember" I replied.

Dean rolled his eyes "It ain't your job to worry 'bot me. It's mine."

I shrugged moodily "Whatever."

Later I was eventually dragged away from the hospital by Sam despite my protests. I wanted to stay, I could leave Dean alone in the hospital. Yet I knew that there was work to be done. Finding a way to save Dean.

Three Days Later

The motel room was littered with books and articles. All on heart care and conditions. I felt like some medical student preparing for some test. With all that jargon I knew I could never be a doctor. My back rested on the pillow that I propped up against the bed frame, I grunted and threw down a medical encyclopaedia. I compressed my fingers to my temples and sighed. I looked over at Sam who was sitting with his back facing me, hopefully he was having more luck than me. He brought out his cell phone. I knew who he was gonna call. Dad. His face dropped suddenly. It had went straight to voicemail. I sat up.

"Hey Dad, it's Sam, uh, you probably won't even get this but, uh, it's Dean."

He took a deep breathe and continued, not aware of the fact that I was watching him intently. He continued:

"He's sick and, uh, the doctor says there nothin' they can do, um, but they don't know the things we know right. So, um, don't worry cos me and Chris are gonna do whatever it takes to make him better. Alright. Just wanted you to know."

I had moved from the bed at this point as Sam tossed down his cell. He was biting his lips furiously, to stop himself from cracking under the pressure. I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He gazed up at me with a sad glint in his eyes. Suddenly a knock on the door interrupted us.

I walked to the door and opened it. It was Dean. My jaw dropped, how the heck did he get outta that hospital. Sam was just as shocked as I was.

"What the hell are you doin' here?" I asked as Dean entered in room.

"I checked myself out" he replied breathlessly leaning on the cabinet next to the door.

"Are you crazy?" remarked Sam in astonishment.

"I'm not gonna die in a hospital," responded Dean, "The nurses aren't even hot."

Sam rolled his eyes as he closed the door "You know this whole I laugh in the face of death thing. It's crap I can see right through it."

I nodded in agreement. He was right, Dean then looked at us both.

"Have you guys slept? You look worse than me."

I felt crap. Last time I looked in the mirror I had dark circles under my eyes, it made me appear older than thirteen.

"We've been scouring the internet for the last three days" I said helping him to a chair, "And calling every contact in Dad's journal."

"For what?" puffed Dean.

"For a way to help you" responded Sam, "One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back, told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

Huh. This was new to me.

Dean shook his head at us "You guys aren't gonna let me die in peace are ya?"

"We're not gonna let you die period" I remarked with a small smirk,

"We're goin'".

Nebraska

Stupid pothole! I near enough cracked my skull open when the car drove over the damn thing. I glanced out the window, grimacing whilst massaging my throbbing forehead. I should really quit leaning on the windows when going over bumpy terrain, or else I'll get brain damage one day. We had arrived in a muddy field, crowded with vehicles and make shift shelters. In the centre of the field was a large white tent, people seemed to be flocking inside. Then it dawned on me. It wasn't a doctor we were gonna see. No, it was a faith healer. Yeah you heard. A faith healer. I'd need to see it to believe it. Part from that, it's garbage. This was serious. Screwing around with a faith healer was wasting time, time in which we could be spending finding real help. I sighed as Sam climbed out the driver's seat and rushed round to help Dean outta the car. I swung my own door open and slid out, my boots sinking into the deep mud. Ugh. Perfect. Now I was in an even worse mood than before. I buried my hands deep into the pockets of my leather bomb jacket. I scanned the area and noticed a sign outside the tent. It read, The Church of Roy Le Grange, Faith Healer, Sundays 11am and 2pm. I smirked when I saw the captions Witness the Miracle. Miracles. I was wishing for one but, heck God hates me so I'm sure as hell he ain't gonna grant me three wishes. I turned back to my brothers. Once again Sam was Mother Hen and Dean as always, was stubborn.

"I gotcha" said Sam who seemed almost ready to carry Dean inside.

"I got it!" snapped Dean swatting him away, "Man you are a lyin' bastard. Thought you said we were goin' to see a doctor ."

"I concur" I commented as Dean slammed the door shut.

"I believe I said a specialist. Look Dean this guy's supposed to be the real deal" replied Sam taking no notice of my remark.

Dean wasn't convinced "I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent."

Then some old brod with an umbrella walking past us said "Revered Le Grange is a great man."

"Yeah that's nice" retorted Dean sarcastically just as we pasted a protester and a cop.

"I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud," stated the man, "And he building all these people out of their hard earned money!"

"Sir, this is a place of worship," replied the cop ushering the protester away, "Let's go, move it."

"I take it he isn't part of the flock" I said.

"Well when people see something they can't explain there's controversy" answered Sam.

"But I mean come on Sam a faith healer!" whined Dean.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith Dean," replied Sam, he then glanced at me, "You too Chris."

Fat chance. I lost my faith years ago, along with my childhood. It kinda hard to have faith when you have grown up surrounded by tragedy and pain. Come to think of it. I dunno what faith is. God never listens to me.

Dean argued back "You know what I've got faith in? Reality. What's really goin' on."

Sam gave a small chuckle and examined our expressions "How can you guys be sceptic with the things we see every day?"

"Exactly we see them, we know their real" said Dean.

Sam rolled his eyes "But if you know evil is out there, how can you not believe good is out there too?"

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people."

Another voice interrupted us.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways."

It was young girl, with blond hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a light blue jacket and clutching a gray umbrella. She was smiling at us. In typical style, Dean slapped on the old charm.

"Maybe he does," he said, "I think he just turned me around on the subject."

In typical style, Sam and I rolled our eyes. It was our custom whenever an attractive female came within yards of Dean.

"Yeah, I'm sure" replied the blond chick.

"I'm Dean, this is Sam and my runt sister Chris."

Dying or not I still nudged him in the ribs. It ain't my fault that I'm short and skinny as a matchstick.

"Layla. So if your not a believer then why are you here?"

"Well apparently my brother and sister here believes enough for the three of us."

Whoa! I ain't a believer. I need to see it first and if this dude is the real deal and not some phoney, then I'll believe.

Layla's mother, I'm assuming, appeared "Come on Layla it's about to start."

She departed into the tent with her mother. Dean had a familiar smirk on his face.

"Well I'll bet she could work in some mysterious ways" he said.

Ugh! Even now he could keep it in his pants. We entered the tent. Sam then ushered Dean and I towards the front, ignoring Dean protests. I sat between them and noticed that we were behind Layla and her mother. I've never been one for sitting up front. I prefer to blend into the shadows in the background, that way I can avoid people.

"This better work" I murmured under my breathe as an middle aged man with dark glasses approached to podium, Roy Le Grange.

I looked around me, the place was swamped with the infirm. Le Grange, with a southern accent, began his daily sermon:

"Each morning my wife Sue-Anne reads me the news. Never seems good does it?"

The mass shook their heads. Le Grange continued:

"Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act. But I say to you God is watching. God rewards the good and he punishes the corrupt. It is the Lord who does the healing here friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by seeing into people's hearts."

Oh please. This had got to be the biggest pile of crap I've ever heard. Sure God's watching but the way I see it, God is a mean kid on an ant hill with a magnifying glass, and I'm the ant, he could fix my life in five minutes but he'd rather burn off my feelers and watch me squirm. Hang on, I just quoted Bruce Almighty. Still I agree with that statement.

"Yeah or into their wallets" grumbled Dean, making me chuckle.

Le Grange heard "You think so young man?"

Oops busted.

"Sorry"

"No no don't be, just watch what you say around a blind man, we got real sharp ears. What's your name son?"

"Dean"

"Dean, I want you to come up here with me"

The crowd applauded but Dean hadn't budged.

"No it's okay."

"What are you doing?" said Sam.

"You've come here to be healed haven't you?" asked Le Grange.

This kinda reminded me of a time when I was maybe five years old and I got invited to some kid's birthday party, there was a clown and he was crap. He wanted me to come up beside him, but since Sam has a phobia of clowns he warned me that clowns were evil. I was getting pissed off with this bozo and I ended up booting him in the nuts, making the other kids cry.

"Well yeah but uh, maybe you should just pick someone else."

Le Grange grinned "I didn't pick you Dean, the Lord did."

"Get up there" urged Sam, almost shoving him.

Awkwardly Dean rose and made his way up onto the stage. I have always hated being put on the spot like that, at this point I'm glad it wasn't me.

"For all our sakes," I whispered to Sam, "I hope this works."

"Me too honey," he replied gripping a hold of my hand, "Me too."

The doubt within me seemed to disappear at that point and was replaced with desperate hope. It had to work. My eyes remained on my eldest brother as he stood before Le Grange.

"You ready?" questioned Le Grange.

"Yeah look no disrespect but uh, I'm not exactly a believer" responded Dean.

Le Grange just smiled "You will be son. You will be. Pray with me friends."

The mass raised their arms, several joined hands in prayer. Sam and I waited, our faces etched with anxiety and optimism. If there was a God, he wouldn't take my brother from me. Le Grange's hands extended outwards. Dean appeared confused when Le Grange's right hand compressed itself on his head. His eyes began to droop and soon he fell to his knees. My chest tightened with my ever increasing heartbeat. Suddenly he collapsed into the stage. I shot up.

"Dean!" I said in alarm, dashing over to him, with Sam behind me.

He let out a gasp as his eyes snapped open.

"Say somethin'!" I implored, kneeling at his side with his upper body in my arms.

He only stared ahead, a look of disbelief and hidden terror. I know it too well for I speak of years of experience. He'd seen something from the other side.

After a short visit to the hospital it was confirmed by the doctor that Dean was in the all clear. Tests had shown no signs of any heart problems past or present. Damn. Le Grange was for real. Yet Dean still felt strange. He claimed that he saw some old dude in a suit, a spirit he said. If it was a spirit, then how come I didn't see it, I mean I am psychic. For years I've seen things I couldn't explain, things nobody else could see. The weirdest one had to be when I was four years old and I met a man in a trench coat. Anyway I'm getting' of the subject. Whilst Sam was checking out a heart attack victim, Dean and I were heading out to visit Le Grange.

I slouched in the front seat of the car, I blew air through pursed lips. I smirked as I knew it was pissing Dean off. I then started smacking my lips together, that really pissed him off. Normally I do this in order for him to talk, or else there is the never ending awkward silence.

"Chris!" he snarled, "If you make that goddamn noise again I swear to God you'll be walkin'"

I paused and grinned innocently "Dunno what you mean?"

He rolled his eyes "You know that stopped being cute years ago."

I laughed. A heavy weight had lifted from my back and my life was somewhat normal again. My laughter triggered something within Dean. He smiled.

"See your smiling'," I beamed, "I'm off the hook."

"I'll just kick your ass later" replied Dean.

"Yeah. Right," I giggled, "More like me kickin' your ass old man. You'll probably throw your back in or break a hip."

The silence returned for several minutes. I was twisting a strand of my hair around my index finger when Dean spoke again.

"It was my fault you know" he said, "I got in the way."

I was perplexed "What do you mean?"

"That Rawhead was coming right at you. I had to do something to stop it from hurting you."

I blinked "You nearly killed yourself! You shouldn't have to risk your life for me all the time."

"Uh yeah I do. Your my baby sister, I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you."

I rolled my eyes dramatically "Oh now your just getting sentimental."

Dean chuckled "No I mean it. It's my job to protect you, always has been, always will be. Live with it."

I folded my arms across my chest and stated defiantly "No! I ain't gonna watch you get hurt or killed from sidelines! No way. Somebody has gotta look out for you, save your ass once in a while. That's my job. Live with that."

"I don't want you to."

"Tough. I can do whatever the hell I want, it's my choice."

I faced away from him, hunched over moodily with my famous scowl.

"Teenagers" scoffed Dean with a shake of his head.

"Brothers" I muttered grumpily.

I sat on the couch beside Dean, chewing the inside of my mouth whilst twitching my foot absent-mindedly. I wanted to make sure I wasn't gonna say anything blasphemous in front of the Le Grange's. That would be my ticket for my soul to be condemned to the fires of hell for eternity.

"Would you like some lemonade dear?" Mrs Le Grange asked me kindly with a sweet smile.

"No thanks ma'am" I replied politely.

Mrs Le Grange poured ice tea into glasses "And how are you feeling Dean?"

"I feel great, just trying to you know make sense of what happened."

Huh. Ain't we all.

Mrs Le Grange grinned "A miracle is what happened. Miracles come so often around Roy."

"When did they start? The miracles?" Dean questioned Le Grange.

I leaned forward as Le Grange began his story:

"Woke up one mornin' stone blind. Doctors figured I had cancer, told me I had maybe a month. So we prayed for a miracle. I was weak but I told Sue-Anne you just keep right on prayin'. I went into a coma, doctors said I wouldn't wake up but I did and the cancer was gone."

He took over his dark glasses and added "If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I ever had it."

"And suddenly you could heal people" I said with a quizzical expression.

Le Grange nodded placing back his dark glasses "I discovered it afterwards, yes. God has blessed me in many ways."

Mrs Le Grange said brightly "And his flock just swelled overnight and this is just the beginning."

Dean and I nodded simultaneously.

"Can I ask you one more question?" asked Dean.

"Course you can" said Le Grange with a smile.

"Why? Why me? Out of all the sick people why save me?"

Le Grange answered with "Well like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart and you just stood out from all the rest."

"What did you see in my heart?"

"A young man with an important purpose. A job to do and it isn't finished."

Dean was no longer in the mood for pleasantries and we headed for the door after saying or thanks and goodbyes. Well, I said it for the both of us. We met Layla on the steps.

"Dean, how you feeling?"

Oh fine, just ignore me then, I'll just remain the invisible cellophane runt.

"I feel good, cured I guess."

I butted in, civilly as possible "What are you doing here?"

"You know my mom, she wanted to talk to the Reverend."

Layla's mother joined her on the steps as Mrs Le Grange appeared.

"Layla. I'm sorry but Roy's resting, he won't be seeing anyone else right now."

Her mother was adamant "Sue-Anne please, this is our sixth time, he's got to see us."

"Roy's well aware of Layla's situation and he very well wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith Mrs Rouke."

Mrs Le Grange went back inside the house as Mrs Rouke and Layla turned away dejected. Mrs Rouke spun round to face Dean. She was pissed.

"Why you still even here? You got what you wanted."

"Mom! Stop! "

"No Layla this is too much, we've been to ever single service, if Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder."

Layla sighed. It was then revealed that she had a brain tumour, the terminal kind and the doctors estimated she had six months to live. Man, that's gotta suck. That has got to be of hell of a nasty waiting game.

With shame in his eyes Dean gazed at Layla. I knew what he was thinking at that point. It was obvious. He wanted to know why he was getting a second chance and she wasn't.

"I'm sorry" he said.

"It's okay" replied Layla, as bravely as she could.

"No, it isn't," responded Mrs Rouke before confronting my brother once again, "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?"

Whoa, whoa. That was harsh. I understand she was going through a very rough patch but takin' out on my family wasn't gonna solve anything. Being a bitch wasn't gonna help. They left, leaving me with a mentally wounded Dean.

I placed a hand on his arm "Don't listen to her. She's mad at the world, not you."

We arrived back at the motel room, Dean's mood hadn't improved despite my words. I was irritated at myself for not trying hard enough. I slumped onto the couch, propping my feet onto the arm and crossing my arms behind my head, closing my eyes whilst doing so. Sighing heavily I reopened my eyes. Sam was on his laptop, he looked just about as miserable as Dean and I.

"What did you find out?" he asked Sam.

"I'm sorry" whispered Sam, like a scolded puppy .

"Sorry 'bot what?"

"Marshall Hall died 4:17."

Oh no. I knew what that meant, it wasn't good.

"The exact time I was healed."

Sam nodded.

"Yeah. So I put together a list, everyone that Roy's healed, six people over the past year and I crossed checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died, and each time the victim died of the same symptom Le Grange was healing at the time."

This was interesting, very interesting. It was as if Le Grange was trading a life for another life. I sat up, the mental cogs and wheels in my head were turning. I frowned.

"So someone healed of cancer, someone else dies of cancer?" I quizzed curiously, wandering over to my brothers.

"Somehow, Le Grange is trading a life for another" answered Sam.

"That's what I think," I said thoughtfully, "But how is he doing it?"

Before Sam could remark on what I stated, Dean butted in.

"Wait, wait, wait, so Marshall Hall died to save me."

"Dean, the guy probably would have died anyway" remarked Sam in a vain attempt to raise spirits, "And someone else would've been healed."

"He's right you know" I commented only to receive an angry glower.

"You two never should've brought me here" Dean growled sullenly.

Hey, I was sceptical 'bot this whole thing in the first place so I don't know why he was being grouchy with me. It's not like I drove us to Nebraska. Not that I was blaming Sam. We were only trying to help, Dean should have at least shown us some gratitude. Yet with his moodiness I doubt we'd get it anytime soon.

"Dean," I stated in a slightly annoyed manner, "We were just trying to save your life."

He spun around "But Chris some guy is dead now because of me!"

I held my hands up in defence, maybe I shouldn't have said anything but then again I was speaking the truth.

Sam gave me a reassuring glance, which eased my tension.

"We didn't know" he said sadly.

I felt like a firework ready to explode. How would we have know that this faith healer, who we found out of desperate despair, was trading lives. I clenched my hands into fists, I bit down on my lip furiously to stop me from erupting. I returned to the couch and hunched over, my fists still shaking with a secret and burning rage. I breathed through my nose in a way to calm myself down. The last thing the guys needed was to experience the wrath of Mount Vesuvius, aka me.

"What I don't understand is how Roy's doing it," I heard Sam say, "How is he trading a life for a life?"

"Oh he's not doin' it," replied Dean, "Something else is doin' it for him."

I furrowed my brow, what could be doing it then? Then the penny dropped, could it be? Nah surely not but was I thinking the same as Dean. I dunno.

"What do you mean?" queried Sam.

"The old man I saw on stage, I didn't want to believe it but deep down I knew."

"You knew what? What are you talkin' about?"

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that."

Wonder if I've got my calculations right.

"We're dealing with a reaper."

Yahtzee!

I've never been I whiz with computers. They baffle me which at my age is something most kids in my generation would find odd. Yet after surfing the internet I found information on Reapers. My thinking cap was on and I had unleashed my inner geek.

"You really think it's the Grim Reaper?," Sam wondered aloud as he riffled through a book he was researching in, "Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?"

"No, no, no. Not the Reaper, a reaper," said Dean, "There's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on Earth. Go by a hundred different names. It's possible that there's more than one of 'em."

"But you said you saw a dude in a suit" I pointed out, scratching the back of my neck were an itch was growing.

"Well, what, do you think he should've been workin' the whole black robe thing?" Dean said sarcastically.

I smirked sweetly "Dunno, you tell me."

Dean added, ignoring me "You said it yourself that the clock stopped, right?"

He produced a sheet of paper with a creepy picture of a Reaper as he continued.

"Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're comin' at you, which is why I could see it and you guys couldn't."

"Dean, maybe it's not a reaper" suggested Sam.

"There's nothing else it could be, Sam," squabbled Dean, "The question is how's Roy controllin' the damn thing?"

Sam paused for a second "That cross"

"What?" Dean and I said in unison.

I blinked. I hate it when we do that, it's freaky.

"There was this cross," Sam started, raiding his bag, "I noticed it in the church tent, I knew I had seen it before."

He showed us a tarot card that he pulled from the content of his rucksack. The tarot image was of a skeleton wearing a crown upon it's skull with the cross in the far corner.

"Here" he said handing it over to me, I flipped the card over in my hand once or twice.

On further inspection I recognised it. I had seen it myself when we were in the tent. I just remember thinking about how unusual it was and almost mistaking it for the crucifix.

"A tarot?" said Dean scornfully.

"It makes sense. I mean, tarot dates back to the early Christian era, right?," Sam explained, "When some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff. Necromancy, and how to push death away, how to cause it."

I nodded pensively "So, Roy is using black magic to bind the reaper?"

"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind. It's like putting a dog leash on a Great White" said Sam, resulting in me giggling at the image of a Great White on a leash.

"Ok, then we stop Roy" said Dean after a moment of pondering.

"How?" Sam inquired.

"You know how" responded Dean sinisterly.

My eyebrows raised "Whoa, hang on a sec! I ain't being an accessory to the murder of a blind man, no way."

"She's right," admitted Sam, "We can't kill Roy."

"Sam, Chris, the guy's playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies, that's a monster in my book" remarked Dean.

"No, we're not gonna kill a human being, Dean," Sam said adamantly, with me nodding in agreement "We do that, we're no better than he is."

"Okay, so we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any bright ideas, college boy?" Dean questioned with a hint of irony.

I shot him a warning glance and cleared my throat before anything escalated. An argument was not on my agenda at this moment in time.

"Okay, uh, if Roy is using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we've gotta figure out what it is," Sam said, "And how to break it."

Later

This was a first for me. I've never had to deal with a Reaper so this was gonna be interesting and awkward as I could not see it since I ain't on death's door. We arrived at the Le Grange's church tent once again in order to search for clues into how a Reaper was being controlled. Turns out, when Sam and I investigated once the service had began, that Le Grange was choosing victims that were deemed immoral. How we found this out, well let's just say Le Grange should be more careful on were he stores his books on Christian History, or else somebody like me can come along and read something that they wouldn't want me to. After a mad yet an eventual success to save the life of the next victim, the protestor in the parking lot, a conclusion was reached. As Dean discovered, Le Grange wasn't controlling the Reaper. It was his wife. Hrmph, it's always the person you least suspect ain't it. The sad part was that Roy was none the wiser on what his wife was doing.

"Must be a hell of a spell" Dean said, examining the book Sam and I unearthed in the Le Grange's library.

"Yeah," said Sam nodding, "You've got to build a black altar, with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross the line like that, that preacher's wife. Black magic, murder. Evil."

"Desperate" Dean pointed out, "Her husband was dying, she'd have done anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy."

"Cheating death," I added pinching the bridge of my nose. "Literally."

"Yeah, but Roy's alive, so why's she still using the spell?" Dean pondered.

"Right. To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral." Sam continued.

"May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work" exhaled Dean.

I was sitting cross legged on the bed, lost within my mind, my elbows balancing on my knee caps.

"We've gotta break that binding spell, guys" I stated finally, clasping my hands together and resting my chin on top.

"You know, Sue Ann had a Coptic cross like this. And when she dropped it, the reaper backed off " said Dean returning his gazed to the book.

"So, you think we've gotta find the cross or destroy the altar?" I asked the guys.

"Maybe both?," advised Dean, "Whatever we do, we better do it soon. Roy's healing Layla tonight."

"Well we ain't gonna get far if we're just gonna sit then," I pointed out, sliding off the bed, "Let's go."

That Night

The moon was glaring down by the time the car pulled up outside the church. It was now or never. We sat for several minutes, waiting for the right moment to strike action.

"That's Layla's car. She's already here" noted Sam to which Dean nodded his head woefully.

"Dean" sighed Sam.

"You know, if Roy would have picked Layla instead of me, she'd be healed right now" said Dean miserably.

I closed my eyes slowly, shaking my head, leaning forward. It was time for me to play the voice of reason once again, I guess it's a trait I share with Sam.

"Dean, don't" I started before I was cut off.

"And if she's not healed tonight, she's gonna die in a couple months" Dean stated, guilt riddling his voice.

"What's happening to her is horrible. But, what are you gonna do?" Sam quizzed, "Let somebody else die to save her?"

I added "You said it yourself, Dean. You can't play God."

Dean ignored us and climb outta the car to which we followed. The service had just started when we reached the tent entrance. Layla had made her way onto the stage.

"Where's Sue-Anne?" questioned Dean in a silent alarm.

Sam turned his head before replying "House."

Cautiously we edged away from the tent and wandered to the parking lot.

"You guys go find Sue-Anne, I'll catch up" said Dean.

"What are you—?" blurted Sam going to follow him until I yanked him back when I realised what Dean was up to.

"Huh," I mumbled "I'm surprised, I'm usually the decoy."

Dean stood before the cops that approached him, for the record I'm guessing he musta an encounter with them earlier.

"Hey!" he announced with a grin, "You gonna put that fear of God in me?"

It was Sam and I's cue to move once Dean had the cops chasing after him. Swiftly and slyly, Sam and I dashed up the stairs to the Le Grange's house. We scanned about for an entrance to the house and then I noticed a hatch under the porch, it looked like it led to a storm shelter or a basement of some sort. Whatever it was, I'm guessing it was hiding something.

"Look!" I said, nudging Sam, "Let's check it out."

I vaulted over the porch fence with Sam close behind, making a notable squelch in the thick mud with my boots on landing, thankfully it had been my most successful vault to date, that hadn't resulted in me twisting my ankle violently, as I've done in the past. Carefully Sam prized open the doors to the cellar, and we went inside, the doors slamming behind us.

The only source of light for us came from the flickering flames of candles. Nah. Something was definitely goin' on down here. I felt a sharp tug on my jacket, it was Sam, he had spotted something in the far corner. It was the altar. The altar was splattered with dried blood, and decorated with several Coptic crosses and candles. At the centre of the altar was a skull and most worryingly of all, a crowd shot of Dean. A bloody cross etched over his face.

I picked the photo up "Ah crap"

Suddenly a voice sounded from behind us.

"I gave your brother life and I can take it away."

Startled, Sam and I spun round only to meet Mrs Le Grange.

Sam glanced at me and in a quick simultaneous action, we grabbed either end of the alter and overturned it. I'd think Sam did most of the work there since I'm still trying to develop my muscle tone. What can I say, I'm still only training. Yet what was more infuriating was that the bitch locked us in the damn shelter.

"Oh no she didn't!," I exclaimed in outrage as Sam attempted to push to cellar doors open, "Dammit!"

"Sam, Chris, can't you see?," Mrs Le Grange stated as we pounded on the doors, "The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your brother is wicked. And he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It's God's will."

Screw that!

"Goodbye, Sam, Chris" she uttered before departing.

Shit! Now what!

Then a light bulb moment struck me, I noticed a small window in the cellar, I indicated to Sam who followed. I grabbed a hold of a large bar, that technically was the length of me, and I smashed the window open. It's a wonder I didn't fall over with the weight of the damn thing.

"Gimme a boost" I commanded Sam.

He hoisted me up to I could start to crawl through the gap I had made. Even though I'm skinny, it was still a tight squeeze but I had to feel more sympathy for Sam. Since he's nearly the size of a giraffe it would be more challenging for him. As he was scrambling through, he looked at me.

"Go find Dean!," he ordered, "Now! Go!"

I nodded and dashed off, my boots smacking in the mud, I could feel the rim of my jeans soaking it up too. I darted and skidded around the parking lot, scrutinizing the area for my brother. I gasped for breathe before charging off again. I grounded to a halt when I finally found him, but I wasn't the only one who found him. The Reaper had bet me to it. I narrowed my eyes, I could see it. A old man in a black suit with a wrinkled, dishevelled face. Don't ask me how I could see it. I don't myself. All I know that at that moment I could. I gritted my teeth.

"Leave my brother alone you son of a bitch!" I yelled as the Reaper caused Dean to fall to his knees, a hand pressed against his head.

I spirited over, ready to tackle the bastard. Dean's life was hanging in the balance once again, his skin ashen grey, eyes going cloudy, heavy and laboured breathes escaping his lips. Suddenly the Reaper stopped, making Dean gasp for air, and it began to move away. I hurried over to Dean who was wincing with pain.

"Admit it," I said helping Dean to his feet, "You need me to save your ass once in a while."

"Whatever you say" he grunted as I escorted him back to the car.

Sam wasn't that long behind us.

"You okay?" he asked Dean.

"A little bit weak" was Dean's reply.

"Yeah. Alright, come on, we should get going" advised Sam, getting in the car.

Within minutes, we were gone.

The Next Day

Dean continued to be moody throughout the next day. Guilt was still clouding his conscience.

"What is it?" queried Sam.

"Nothing"

I rolled my eyes. For a second I could see myself, which was disturbing in some way.

"What is it?" I pressed before shrugging as Dean hesitated with his upcoming answer. I couldn't wait any longer, I had to pee.

When I was doing my, you know, business I could hear a knock on the door. I freshened myself up flushed the toilet as quietly as possible. I could hear Layla's voice and the sound of the door closing behind her. "Sam you sly dog!" I muttered, a smirk spreading across my face as I washed my hands.

I cracked the door open just so I could peep through. I was right it was Layla. She was talking to Dean. I inched away from the door slightly so I couldn't be detected and sat with my back to the wall. I folded my arms and crossed my left leg, making it rest on my right thigh.

"So where are you going?" I heard Layla ask.

"Dunno yet," came Dean's voice, "Our work kinda takes us all over."

"You know I went back to see Roy"

"What happened?"

"Nothing. He lay his hand on my forehead but nothing happened"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry it didn't work"

"And Sue-Anne she's dead you know. A stroke."

Pfft a stroke! Nah more like she got her comeuppance for trapping a Reaper.

"Yeah I heard. You know Roy's a good man, he doesn't deserve what's happened. Must be rough. To believe in something that much and to have it disappoint you like that."

That's true, Le Grange wasn't evil. He was just caught up in his wife's attempt to save him from death.

"You wanna hear something weird. I'm okay. Really. I guess if your gonna have faith you can't just have it when the miracles happen, you have to have it when they don't."

What a brave woman. I smile sadly.

"So what now?" Dean asked.

"God works in mysterious ways" answered Layla.

There was a small silence before I could hear their voices again.

"Goodbye Dean"

"Hey, um, I'm not much of a prayin' type but I'm gonna pray for you."

I tilted my head in curiosity. Did I hear that right? I unfolded my arms and slowly got to my feet, still hiding behind the door.

"Well there's a miracle right there."

The door closed just as I push the door I was hiding behind open with my foot. Dean stood in sorrowful silence for a minute or two, not noticing me leaning casually in the doorway. He sighed.

"Eavesdropping is wrong you know" he said, without turning round.

He knew I was there that whole time. Damn! I gotta learn to become more invisible next time.

"You heard everything then"

"Yup," I replied walking up to him, I could see unshed tears in his eyes.

He slumped down onto the bed unhappily. I sighed and climbed up behind him, slinging my arms around his neck, resting my chin on his broad shoulder, my stomach against his back.

"You know, a wise man once told me that everything happens for a reason. You can't change it no matter how hard you try. It teaches us lessons we need to learn. He also said life's a bitch."

I saw the corners of Dean's mouth crack into a small smile.

"Who told you that?" he quizzed me.

I slapped his chest lightly with one of my hands dangling around his neck.

"Idiot," I chuckled, "It's was you."

He sniggered quietly, taking hold of my wrists. This was the biggest chick flick moment I've had since that horrible day in the hospital.

"What would I do without you Jiminy?" said Dean.

"Dunno. Turn into a jackass probably" I remarked with a shrug.

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