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

Chapter 22

With a gasp, a pair of hazel-green eyes flew open as Dean Winchester shot bolt upright in bed as sleep released it's hold on him.

He sat with his chest heaving and his eyes darting everywhich way in confusion as he slowly got his head back on straight.

As his mind cleared, his surroundings registered.

He was in his room in Missouri's house.

He was back in Lawrence.

It was then that the memories of the previous night came crashing back.

He and his dad had been on a simple Salt and Burn in the woods of the next county.

The evil Spook had attacked them mercilessly, cutting the both of them up and throwing them around like rag-dolls.

Then, the spirit had dove in for the kill, coming at him with claws bared and ready to send him to his maker when...

No, it couldn't be.

It couldn't have who he thought he'd seen in the woods last night.

It's couldn't have been his Sammy.

His Sammy was dead. His baby brother's been dead for a whole month.

But then, what had happened to him last night?

A myriad of questions whirled around in Dean's mind, but one question stood out above all and made his heart clench painfully within his chest.

Why had God been so cruel as to make him see Sammy, to make him think that his dead baby brother had saved him?

Dean swung his legs over the side of his bed and sat with his back hunched and his head hung so low in utter desolation.

He felt the backs of his eyes burning with tears as his eyes began to well.

It couldn't be his Sammy, his Sammy was dead.

His Sammy was dead.

And it was all because of him.

All because Sam had saved him from death back in that damned cabin.

The tears broke free and slid down the expanse of Dean's face before they reached his chin and dripped off his skin, silently falling to the wood floor.

Dean sniffled and scrubbed at his tears, trying futily to steam the rivers of bitter salt and despair.

A small sob escaped him but for the most part, his anguish was silent but no less devastating and all consuming.

After about five minutes, Dean looked up and his gaze looked onto his reflection in the mirror.

As he stared at his pale, haggard face, with tears staining his cheeks, Dean felt his despiar quickly melt away, a sheer, molten red, volcanic rage filling him.

With a snarl through tightly clenched teeth and eyes blazing in fury, Dean shot to his feet and like a torpedo, sent his right fist flying, straight at the mirror.

CRASH

The sound of glass shattering violently, filled the previously silent air with the sounds of shards flying and falling to the floor.

Agony ripped through Dean's shredded knuckles, lancing up his entire arm but, Dean felt none of it.

The only thing he felt at the moment was sheer and total numbness.

As if on autopilot, Dean stepped away, pulling his hand away from the shattered mirror, blood flowing freely and deep red from his thoroughly busted open knuckles.

Tiny but jagged shards of the mirror were imbedded into the bleeding wounds.

But, it was all lost to Dean Winchester as he turned and slowly walked back over to his bed and sat down on the side, his hands hanging limply between his knees.

" Dean!?" Came the voice of John Winchester, the sound of the mirror violently crashing to pieces had instantly pulled him out of his sleep.

His honed hunter's senses telling him the sound had come from down the hall, Dean's room being the closest.

Fatherly instinct had tacken over and he'd bolted from his room to get to his son.

John now stood in stunned shock at what his eyes were seeing.

" Dean?" Whispered John, his eyes widening in horror as his mind began to process what his eyes were seeing.

Then, absolute panic lanced through his entire being with a jolt as he realized that Dean's hand was bleed profusely, drops of crimson falling like from a leaking pipe onto the harwood floor, a small puddle begining to form.

" Oh my God Dean! What did you do?" He shouted as he bound into the room and came to kneel by his child's side, his eyes wide and filled with dread and concern.

Dean remained mute, his eye fixed downwards, to the evergrowing little pool of deep red forming between his feet.

" John, what the hell just happened?" Came Missouri's voice from downstairs.

She'd wanted to go upstairs and see what had happened for herself when Sam's voice had once again echoed through her head, telling her what had happened and to go look for a first-aid kit because his dad was going to come bounding down the stairs any second. He'd also quietly told her that, he'd handle things and not to worry.

Sure enough, John Winchester came thundering down the stair, all the while yelling at Missouri for a first aid kit.

Missouri ran after him, telling him where she thought kept one, in the closet by one of her bookshelves.

Meanwhile, upstairs Dean was still sitting silent and unmoving but, his right hand now had one of his button-up shirts wrapped tightly around it in an effort to stop the bleeding. The shirt was slowly begining to get soaked through with blood and it was then that the true agony began to register.

With a small hiss and sob, Dean felt tears spring from his already bloodshot eyes as he doubled over in pain.

As his mind began to clear, he realized the sheer stupidity of his actions.

He now hand a badly damaged hand with glass sticking out of it but by some miracle, nothing major had been knicked by the glass, just his knuckles and the back of his hand.

An absolutely terrified father running around downstairs desperately trying to find the necessary items to help his son, trying to find the very illusive first aid kit.

On top of all that, he'd apparently now added a good seven years worth of bad luck to his already f-ed up life.

" God, why? why? why? why? why? why?" Was the single, coherent thought that was running through Dean's mind amidst the sorrow and the despair.

He was so absorbed in his hopeless anguish, he didn't see a figure silently materialize out of thin air, tall and dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a white button-up shirt.

Dean's head was still hung low, so he didn't see a pair of moss-green eyes, welling with tears of their own watching him.

Sam felt his heart shatter completely when he heard another sob of pain escape his beloved older sibling.

Using his newfound grace after all the training he's been subjected to, Sam carefully made his way over to the anguished man sitting on the bed.

As Dean sat hunched over, he suddenly felt a hand softly come to grip his left shoulder.

He looked up with tearfull eyes, expecting to see the concerned and anxious face of John Winchester.

Instead, he felt himself gasp and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head as he came face to face with the tearful visage of... Sam Winchester, though slightly scruffy around the upper lip and chin, and his hair pulled into a loose ponytail, a few of the darker chocolate brown strand coming free and framing either side of his face.

Once again, Dean felt his whole body go numb, this time with utter and absolute shock.

His mouth opened but no sound came out as he gawked at the man standing before him.

Sam swallowed thickly before he gracefully lowered himself to his knees, his sad, soulfull eyes never leaving Dean's.

For the better part of eternity, the brother's merely stared at eachother, both scarely breathing.

Then, Sam blinked and looked down at his brother's hands. What he saw made his already crumbling heart shatter completely

" Aww, Dean, what did you do?" He whispered, mirroring his father's frantic words from earlier as he looked back up at Dean, causing another jolt to go through Dean as he continued to gawk at Sam.

Then, a loud gasp from behind them startled Dean and Sam, both brothers turning to see the utterly stupified visage of their dad, John Winchester from where he stood in the doorway, Missouri Mosely standing behind him in the hallway.

Sam watched as the med-kit in John's hands slipped through his lax fingers.

It never hit the floor.

Dean, John, and Missouri watched as the box stopped mid-fall and hovered over the floor for a few seconds before it slowly began to rise back up and then fluidly veered off to the right, coming to rest on top of the armour by the door.

John and Missouri's eyes turned to Sam, and they all felt a jolt when they saw that his eyes were now glowing a pale, milky blue.

Sam looked down from his father and Missouri's gawking stares and turned back to stare at his brother.

Dean felt another gasp escape him as his eyes stared into Sam's now pale blue orbs, no longer the moss-green he'd known all his life.

But, Dean realized that something was different from the last time he'd seen these eyes.

No longer were they filled with unspeakable rage and hatred. No longer did they chill his very soul when he looked upon them.

They stared at him, begining to brim with more tears, filled with a deep sorrow, a deep regret, but most of all, they were filled with love, a deep, unconditional love.

With a few more tears escaping his temporarily pale eyes, Sam swallowed again and slowly brough his hand up and reached out towards Dean's bleeding right hand.

John was about to move when Missouri gripped his arm tightly in her hands, keeping him firmly where he was.

" Just wait and see." She said, her voice calm and serious as she indicated the two people inside of her guestroom.

John turned his gaze back to his sons, his heart beating a mile a second, a myriad of questions swirling around his vapor-locked mind.

Was he loosing it?

How was it possible?

Was that really his baby boy in there?

Was that really Sammy, his youngest son Sammy kneeling on the floor before Dean?

Just what the hell was going on?

A part of Dean instinctively wanted to flinch awat from the hand Sam was extending towards him but, his body and his brain were still on two different places.

He sat still like a statue, his breath going in and out of his lungs shakily as he continued to stare at what he was begining to think was a pale eyed aparition of his beloved Sammy. A figment of his pain-adled mind, his imagination.

But then, Sam's hand touched his, well actually, his fingertips gently glided over the bloodsoaked T-shirt wrapped around Dean's shredded knuckles.

Then, Sam reached out with his other hand and as gently as he could, he slid it under the bundle of cloth that had Dean's injured right hand within it's blood-soaked confines.

A small hiss escaped Dean at the movement.

" Sorry." Said Sam softly as his pale eyes looked up at Dean for a second before once again dropping to the hand he was holding.

With his other hand, Sam lightly gripped the loose end of the bloodsoaked shirt and began to pull it away, unwrapping his big brother's hand.

Dean winced but remained silent as he watched Sam, his eyes were still confused and fearful but, on a subconscious level, he welcomed the gentle, warm touch he was receiving.

Sam choked back a sob as his eyes took in the sorry state of his brother's hand once he'd unwrapped the bloody shirt from around it.

It looked as though Dean had stuck his hand into and old meat grinder and peices of the machine had broken off into his hand, the wounds were still seeping blood but thankfully, not as much as the initial torrents of crimson.

Sam gently held Dean's hand in his own before with a steadying breath, he focused his mind.

The three other people watched as a look of concentration passed over Sam's face, they all watched in awe as Sam's eyes flashed with a bright, burning light.

Sam slowly waved his other hand over Dean's still bleeding knuckles.

Dean let out a sharp breath as he felt his hand grow warm, the pain begining to slowly fade away, all of it.

The warmth spread from Dean's hand, up his arm and the throughout his whole body.

Then, Dean looked down at his hand and gasped.

All the jagged shards of mirror glass that had been immbeded into his hand were all being painlessly pulled out of his wounds by some invisible force.

After about a minute, there was a small cloud of mirror shards ranging in size and shape floating above Dean's shredded knuckles.

The little cloud stood perfectly still before they gracefully rose upwards and over Sam's head, disappearing behind him.

Missouru let out a stunned noise while John and Dean gawked in silence as they watched the cloud of shards join an even larger mass of broken mirror pieces as the rest of the shards seemingly picked themselves off the floor.

The large, shimmering mass of broken glass began to moved in everywhich direction, placing themselves back perfectly onto the empty wooded frame of the mirror.

Within seconds the mirror had reassembled and now stood whole, but with heavy cracks spiderwebbing out from a circular focal point, from where Dean's fist had made contact.

Then, there was a soft, sizzling sound.

Dean, John, and Missouri watched as the many cracks began to glow a pure white for a few seconds before the sizzling ceased and the light began to fade as the cracks closed themselves.

In about a minute, the mirror stood whole and perfect once again, not a single mar across the once again smooth reflective surface.

All eyes turned back to the young, still pale-eyed man kneeling on the floor before his older brother.

Sam carefully gave Dean's injured hand a small squeeze before he passed his other hand over the injured knuckles once again, this time in the opposite direction.

Dean felt his eyes grow impossibly wider as he watched the angry red wounds that graced his knuckles began to fade away, slowly closing themselves until they vanished completely, leaving only smooth, unbroken pale skin.

With a small, shaky breath, Sam reluctantly let go of his big brother's hand, both of the brother's missing the warm contact instantly.

John moved without realizing as he slowly walked into the room, walking as if on autopilot as he came to stand beside his to sons.

Dean found himself gawking at his newly healed hand and then at the person responsible for making it so.

Both John and Dean watched as Sam's eyes slowly turned back into their normal moss-green.

There was a deathly silence before somthing flickered in Sam's eyes.

Sad realization.

He reached out with his hand once again, his fingertips coming to lightly graze over the top of Dean's knewly healed right hand.

" A drop of my blood... It fell onto your hand while I was... It made you look up and see me... back at the hospital." Said Sam softly as pulled his fingertips away from Dean's hand, his psychic powers picking up the residual traces of what Dean had gone through over the first half of his month without him.

Dean and John both felt another jolt go through them.

Dean blinked rapidly as his vapor-locked mind processed these words.

With a thick swallow to steady his already frayed nerves, Dean willed his right hand to move.

Sam watched with tearful eyes as Dean slowly, tentatively reached out to him. The younger brother remain as still as he could given that his whole body was trembling minutely.

When Dean's fingertips finally touched his brow, he let out a tiny sob before he could stiffle it.

" S-Sammy?" Whispered Dean, too fearfull to believe, but hope had been ignited in his heart as he stared at the young man sitting before him.

More tears escaped Sam before he could stop them as he gave a small nod at Dean's questioning whisper, leaning into the touch on his brow.

Then, he felt a pair of hand, strong and calloused grab his face all in a lightening fast action.

" Sammy?" Asked Dean, this time his voice was stronger, nearly it's usual deep timber as he grasped his brother's face tightly in his hands.

" D-Dean." Sobbed Sam as his hand shot up to cover one of his older brother's where it was holding his face.

" Wait Dean, this could all just be some cruel trick. He might be just a demon using Sam's face." Said John as his voice returned to him, his heart was breaking as he stared at his two tearful sons but, the hunter in him was screaming for caution.

However, no sooner had these words been spoken, a massive surge of white light filled the room, bathing everything in whiteness.

So strong was the light it made everyone in the room nearly collapse and sheild their eyes. John fell to his knees beside Sam while Dean fell sideways onto the bed he was sitting on, and Missouri had grabbed hold of the door and was barely standing, her abilities kicking in and telling her that they were all in the presence of an awesome power. An awesome, ancient power of goodness and light.

Sam realized immediately what this light was.

The Higher Powers.

" Johnathan and Dean Winchester, this man is your youngest son and brother, Samuel Morgan Winchester. He has been returned to the both of you by us." Boomed a deep, all powerful voice, void of gender and neutral as it spoke, coming from within the mass of white light.

" Who are you?!" Yelled John and Dean as one.

" We are the Higher Powers, the ultimate guardians of all that is good and holy in this world. We exist with a single true purpose, to fight the forces of evil and protect all innocents against them for all eternity." Was the booming answer.

" What the hell's goin on?" Yelled Dean, not noticing that he was nearly on top of Sam.

" That can't be true, my son died, he died right infront of us!" Yelled John as well.

" Samuel died a false death, yes what you saw was true, he died and was taken by the flames but, it was our doing, not the Yellow Eyed Demon. We brought him back to life a few hours later, he was safe in a parallel universe."

John and Dean were both about to yell out a few more questions when the Higher Powers boomed a final time.

" Samuel can show you all that has happened in the time that had passed. For now, be glad we let you have him back. We will be watching, we are always watching."

Then, the blinding light began to flicker and then faded until in vanished completely, leaving John, Dean, and Missouri, in a daze and Sam sitting silent waiting to see what his family would do.

The three other people blinked rapidly against the white spots dancing across their vision before Dean sharply turned back to the young man sitting on the floor.

John too turned to face the young man, his baby son.

" Sammy?" He asked, his voice unsure and shaky as he crawled closer to the young man sitting. Tears were begining to burn his eyes as he gawked at the young man sitting before him.

Dean too, lowered himself to the floor and kneeled before Sam.

" Sammy?" He asked, mirror his father's question, his voice too was quivering a little.

Sam looked up with tearfull moss-green eyes and met his brother and father's wide, fearful, terrified to hope gazes and let out a small sob before he spoke.

" Dean... D-Dad, i-it's me, it's really me."

Once again, he felt his face being roughly grabbed by calloused and familiar hands.

" Sammy?!" Asked Dean, his already wide eyes growing even wider.

Finally, Sam had had enough and with a small cry, he lunged forward, all but tackling his beloved big brother in a vice-like hug filled with a year's worth of longing and need for the contact.

" Dean." He wailed as he proceeded to squeeze the living daylights out of the older man, all the while sobbing violently, tears finally flowing free in all their salt-filled glory.

Dean was to stunned to do anything for a few second before his mind remembered something nearly forgotten.

This was indeed the way Sam always felt whenever he'd taken his baby sibling into his arms.

Then with a jolt, Dean wrapped his arms around the young man already crushing him.

" SAMMY!" He wailed as well as he brokedown completely.

" OH MY GOD, IT IS YOU!!!! OH MY GOD!!!" Yelled Dean, his hands traveling all over Sam's shaking back, using touch to reassure himself that Sam was indeed real and not a hallucination.

John had tears flowing freely from his own eyes as he stared at his two sons.

He reached out towards his youngest and let out a small gasp when his hand touched a solid, shaking shoulder.

" You're real." He whispered still in disbelief, stating the obvious.

Using all his will to pull away slightly from Dean and turn his weeping moss-green eyes to stare at his shell-shocked father. He lashed out a hand with inhuman speed at the oldest Winchester.

The next thing John knew, he was being visciously yanked forward by the front of his shirt and then a strong, warm arm wrapped around his neck, pulling him too into a fierce embrace.

" Dad." Whispered Sam before he once again broke down into harsh sobs.

John was still for a moment before his arms seemed to moved of their own volition, wrapping themselves around both of his sons.

" Sammy." Whispered John before he let his tears take hold of him, all the anguish and heartache of the last month pouring out of him as he held both of his sons. Something he'd long since thought he'd never be able to do ever again in his life.

Both John and Dean kept on saying Sam's name over and over again amidst a sea of tears all the while crushing their baby to them.

Sam's embrace was equally crushing as he held his brother and father after what had been a year of misery and longing combined with love and determination. He knew that he had a great deal of explaining to do concerning just what the hell was going on but at the moment, he could've cared less.

He was back, and he would never let go.

They were all together now, after so long, they were finally together again.

He would never ever let go again.

Never again.