Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural, it is all property of the CW11 Network, and whatnot, so don't sue me, please.

Chapter 10

Bobby Singer felt his eyes sting with salty tears, a rarity for the seasoned hunter as he sat opposite John and Dean Winchester.

He'd just listened to the full, horrifying tale of what had happened to Samuel Morgan Winchester. And quiet frankly, his brain was officially vapor-locked.

" Oh my God John, Dean, I'm so sorry I..." Bobby trailed off, not knowing what to say to the two utterly broken men sitting across from him.

" Bobby, we're... ah... we're on our way back to Lawrence... Could we stay here for a little while before we head back on the road?" Asked soul wearing John Winchester. Dean sat beside him, no longer wailing in misery, his grief and devastation had quited down to a deathly silence and hazel eyes glazed over, staring vacantly at the dusty floor.

" Do you even have to ask?" Answered Bobby, still in a bit of a daze from what he'd just heard, his mind trying to process way too much information at once.

" Thanks." Said John softly.

Then, all three men lapsed into silence, each with a myriad of things going through their minds, all of which swirled around one central thought.

Sam was dead.

After countless minutes of silence that seemed more like hours, John slowly climbed to his feet, all but dragging a boneless Dean to his feet as well.

Dean swayed more pronouncely as he stood this time. John blinked back a fresh wave of tears and wrapped his arm firmly around Dean's shoulders, being a support in more ways than the physical.

Together, father and son made a slow, unsteady path to the staircase that led to the second floor, Bobby a few steps behind them.

By the time the three of them had reached the second floor, Dean had started crying again, tears silently flowing down his ashen and pale face.

Bobby watched the young man sadly, remembering the happy, vibrant, smart-ass he'd known a few weeks earlier, all that was left now was an empty shell, a shattered soul who'd lost the only true light in his life.

After several more lethargic steps, John and Dean finally reached Bobby's guestroom, which was big with two twin beds inside.

Bobby stood outside the threshold and watched as John slowly dragged Dean to the closest bed, having to manually make his son sit down at the foot of the mattress.

" Let me know if you need anything." Said Bobby quietly before he turned back down the hall to the stairs, disappearing to the lower level, giving his two weary guests some much needed privacy.

John was about to help Dean get his jacket off when the tearful young man shied away from his father's touch, shrugging the jacket off himself. He spared his father a tearful glance before bowing his head as he reached down to untie his shoes, John nodded silently and walked over to the other bed and wearily sat down. Just as he was about to bend down and start untying his own shoes, a startled gasp from Dean interupted him.

John all but leapt to his feet and was at his child side in an instant.

" Dean?" Asked John urgently, worried and wondering what was wrong, fatherly instincts still in over-drive.

His answer was silence. John stared at Dean, the younger Winchester's eyes were wide and glazed over still drowning in salty tears, his mouth hung slightly open as he was staring at something to his right.

John followed his son's gaze and found himself staring at Dean's hand, the back on which was graced by a dark red stain.

The oldest Winchester felt his heart drop all the way to his feet as he realized what that stain was.

Blood... Sammy's blood... the single drop of blood that had splashed onto Dean's hand before they'd... looked up at the ceiling.

" Oh Dean." Breathed John as he stared at the stain, dry and caked onto the skin of the back of his son's hand.

The eldest Winchester slowly reached out towards Dean's hand but his son violently jerked his hand away.

John watched as Dean shrank from him, dragging himself further up the bed all the while pressing the bloodstained hand to his chest.

" Dean what..." John began when Dean cut him off.

" Please don't make me wash it off. Please don't make me wash it off." Begged Dean as a fresh wave of tears began to pour from his eyes. He bowed his head as a sob escaped him.

John swallowed thickly before he slowly, carefully walked around the bed and sat down before Dean.

" D-Dean..." He began when Dean cut him off again.

" It's all I have left of him dad." Sobbed Dean.

The next thing he knew, Dean felt a familair, strong pair of arms surround him in a tight hug.

" It's all I have left." Whispered Dean as he buried his face into his father's shoulder.

John remained silent as he all but crushed Dean against his chest, not really knowing what else to do. Memories of what had happened at the hospital a few hours ago and what had happened 22 years ago in a nursery in Lawrence, Kansas assailing his mind without mercy.

" You don't have to wash it off Dean. You don't have to wash it off." Whispered John as he cupped the back of Dean's head.

Father and son sat, together in their aguish, a bloodstain on the back of hand was they had.

Meanwhile in a sprawling mansion-like compound...

" SAMMY!!!!"

" Dean!" Yelled Sam as his moss-green eyes flew open, his body sitting bolt upright on the bed he'd been laying on.

As he tried to catch his breath, Sam looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a vast room, well furnished and with a modern-metallic theme. It felt like he was in the penthouse suite of a grand hotel.

Sunlight streamed into the room from the grand windows, and as Sam looked outside, he took in the impressive view.

Dense green woodlands against the backdrop of tall greyish-black mountains and a cloudless blue sky.

" Am I in heaven?" Asked Sam aloud.

" You'd have to be dead for that. You, Samuel Winchester are very much alive." Echoed the very amused, silvery voice of Alkaya, from inside Sam's mind.