Hey everyone! Sorry it took awhile to post this chapter, but I wanted to get it right. Enjoy!

Sam's mind blanked as he stared down at Lilith's body. "She…she's dead…" he breathed, but even as he said the words an uneasy feeling twisted in his stomach.

"Imagine that…" Ruby muttered as a smile crept across her face, "We actually pulled it off. Congrats, Sammy."

Sam didn't answer. His vision kept swimming in and out of focus, making everything around him look like blurred figures in a smoke filled room, and Lilith's voice was muffled as though she were speaking from behind a wall. Of course, Sam knew that this was to be expected—after all, in the last few hours he had been almost suffocated, thrown against walls repeatedly, fallen out a window, and been ripped apart by hellhounds and demons, and that wasn't even counting the whole time travel issue. All in all, it was a miracle that he was still alive, let alone standing.

But there was something else nagging at the back of his mind.

Something was wrong.

Behind him, Dean sat up on the wooden table, finally free from Lilith's control. He breathed a sigh of relief—he was free. He didn't have to go to Hell. A grin formed on his face, and he looked at Sam, waiting for him to turn around.

"Ohhhh…." Bobby moaned as he slowly climbed to his feet, rubbing a hand over the back of his head where he had slammed against the wall, "That's gonna hurt like hell in the morning…"

Dean ignored him and kept his eyes fixed on his brother's back. Sam was facing away from him, the knife still gripped tightly in his hand as a few drops of blood coursed down the blade. As Dean continued to watch, he realized that his brother was shaking. "Sam?" he said quietly.

Sam didn't answer, but his shaking increased. He let go of the knife, and it dropped to the floor with a clatter.

Ruby stepped forward, "What's the matter with him?" she demanded.

"I—I don't know." Dean said, reaching out a hand toward his brother. His fingers curled around his shoulder and then pulled back quickly in alarm. "Damn it, Sam, you're burning up."

Sam said nothing, and kept staring off into space.

"Dean?"

The voice came from behind him. Dean turned slightly and saw the other Sam still kneeling on the floor, his wide eyes gazing into the distance as he held the colt loosely in his right hand. "Something…something's wrong, Dean." He said shakily.

Bobby's eyes narrowed in confusion. "But Lilith's dead…and that's what we came here to do."

Sam shook his head, "Something's wrong." He said again, biting his lip. "I—I know it…"

"Look outside." The other Sam said darkly.

Dean's head snapped back around and he took a closer look at his brother. Bloody, shredded strips of clothing clung loosely to his body, which was a gory mess of gouges and slashing cuts. He could see deep tooth marks all up his torso and down his arms and legs. "Why?" he asked, "What's outside?"

Sam's opened his mouth to respond, but his knees chose that second to give out.

Dean saw his brother start to fall and instinctively reached out and grabbed onto the back of his jacket. "Whoa…" he exclaimed, slowly easing him down to the floor. He crouched worriedly over his brother, whose eyes were shut. "Come on, Sammy, don't do this to me…Sam—Sam—"

Sam heard Dean's frantic voice and opened his eyes a crack. "De…" he muttered. His good hand reached up and twisted into the fabric of his brother's jacket as his black eyes fought to focus. "T-they're outside…they're a-all…coming…"

Ruby turned around and glanced out the window. It was completely dark outside apart from a couple streetlamps—but that light was enough.

"Shit." She muttered.

"What?" Dean said hurriedly.

"We're surrounded." Ruby said darkly.

"By what?" Bobby questioned.

Ruby shot him a glare. "Are you really that daft, old man?" she demanded impatiently, "By what? What do you think, huh? Oh I know, we're surrounded by fluttering fairies and magical elves—"

"Ruby!" Dean interrupted angrily. "Stop messing around and tell us what you see!"

Ruby snarled at him and her glare deepened. When she spoke her voice was low, dangerous. "Demons, Dean." She said, "We're surrounded by demons."

Sam focused on breathing. Not breathing regularly, just breathing in general. It was more difficult now, he had to focus on it, and every breath hurt as the gashes on his chest expanded and bled. His eyes closed slowly and he blinked hard to open them again. He realized that the others were still talking, but he couldn't hear them. Suddenly he felt a connection deep inside of him snap, and something heavy dropped to the floor.

"—don't you get it, it doesn't—" Ruby stopped talking abruptly and froze, her gaze focused on the floor. Her eyes widened.

Dean turned and followed her gaze. There was nothing there. "What are you looking at?" he asked, confused.

"You can't see them?" she said softly.

"See what?" Dean said.

Ruby shook her head and stared. Six hellhounds growled menacingly from where they had dropped from Sam's control, their matted fur and bulging muscles gleaming with sweat and blood. It was almost as though they were waiting for something…

"It's okay, Ruby…" Sam muttered tiredly, "They're n-not after…Dean…anymore." He drew in a deep breath and let it out, feeling the rattle of blood in his lungs. "Lilith's dead…she controlled them."

Dean realized with a jolt what they were talking about. "Hellhounds?" he said worriedly.

Sam nodded and looked over toward the beasts. He could barely make out their shapes, but he could see their eyes clearly—every eye was focused on him.

"What are they waiting for?" Ruby whispered.

Sam shook his head. He kept his gaze focused on the hellhounds, and then opened his mouth. "Lie Down." He said firmly. For a moment nothing happened, and then all of the beasts slowly dropped to their stomachs and laid their heads between their giant paws.

Ruby's eyes widened in disbelief. "Sam…"

Sam shook his head dismissively and blinked hard. "You all…need to go look…for salt and any kind of…" he took a deep breath, "…demon fighting materials…in the house." He finished painfully.

Ruby's eyes narrowed in confusion. "But Sam—you just—"

"Now." He said firmly. "You don't…have much time…"

"Why haven't the demons just come in and killed us already?" Bobby questioned. "I mean…nothing's stopping them."

Sam shook his head. "They're waiting. Now that their leader's dead they're going to want revenge—I think they're waiting for the r-rest of her followers to arrive before they attack."

For a moment Ruby stared back at him questioningly, but then she nodded and looked away. "I'll check the kitchen." She said simply.

"I'll look in the basement." Bobby said.

The other Sam nodded and stood up. "I'll look everywhere else." He glanced at Dean, who was still kneeling protectively beside…himself. The look on his face—Sam knew it well. Too well. "Dean...you should stay here." He said nonchalantly. "Make sure nothing tries to get in through the broken windows…"

Dean glanced up at him. "Yeah." He said softly. "That's a good idea."

Sam nodded and walked out the door. He paused in the hallway and glanced back sadly before going upstairs to search.

Dean instantly started putting pressure on his brother's wounds.

Sam winced and then opened his eyes. "Dean…don't. There's no point."

Dean shook his head. "Don't even start that shit, Sam…" he said dismissively, "Now hold still." He pulled out a knife and gently cut Sam's jacket off of him so that he could have a better idea of how badly his brother was hurt.

He paled.

Sam kept his eyes locked on his brother, watching as he used a piece of the jacket he had just cut off to stop some of the blood flow. Sam opened his mouth to tell his brother how useless it was to try to save him, how he was too far gone to help, but the look on Dean's face stopped him. "You…you know," he said instead, "You j-just ruined my f-favorite jacket."

Dean didn't even look up. "Oh quit your whining…you can get another one next time we go somewhere."

Sam winced. "Dean…" he said softly, "There's not…going to be a…" he trailed off as Dean shot him a look daring him to continue.

"Not going to be a what, Sam?" he demanded.

Sam gave up. There was no point in telling his brother what he didn't want to hear, not now when he didn't have much time left. "There's not going to...be…another jacket that I'll ever like as m-much as that one." He finished, cringing at how lame it sounded.

Dean looked back down at what he was doing. "Don't be such a girl, Sam. It's just a jacket. Tell you what, after we're done here I'll buy you one with a nice pink floral pattern."

Sam smiled faintly. "It's good to have you back." He breathed.

Dean winced. "I'm not going anywhere." he promised.

"I know." Sam said softly. Dean moved once again to try to stop the bleeding, but Sam reached up with his good arm and grabbed tightly onto his wrist, stopping him. "You know…" he said, trying to distract his brother, "I made Ruby listen to Metallica music...for several long hours."

Dean snorted. "Oh really? I bet she loved that."

Sam grinned. "I told her she…needed to learn to appreciate…the classics."

Dean smiled, but his eyes blurred and he blinked rapidly to fight back the tears that were threatening to make an appearance. "See? I knew I taught you something." He said, pushing down harder on Sam's wounds. Oh God there's too much blood…

Sam opened his mouth to reply but a cough escaped, and he tilted his head to the side to avoid coughing on his brother. A metallic taste filled his mouth, and he swallowed hard, trying to force it back down.

"Sammy?"

Sam looked up, hating the sorrow in his brother's gaze. Dean looked scared—really scared. "Dean…you're not going to lose me." He said softly. "Even if I die…you'll still have y-your Sam—"

"That's not the point and you know it." Dean interrupted forcefully. "I don't care that you have demonic eyes and freaky powerful abilities, okay? You're still Sam—my brother—the same awkwardly tall person that thinks that all people are mostly good and could never hurt a fly. I'm not going to let you die."

Sam stared at Dean, a lump forming in his throat. "I—I thought you'd freak out and h-hate me the second you saw my eyes."

Dean shook his head. "Sammy, give me some credit. I practically raised you, I think I'd be able to tell if you're you, black eyes or not."

Sam nodded.

For a moment they sat in silence.

"Dean…" Sam began slowly, "You…you can't s-save me this time."

"Sure I can…you'll just have a lot of cool scars, that's all." Dean said, concentrating on what he was doing.

Sam sighed. "Dean—"

"Chicks love scars, Sammy."

"Maybe one or two," Sam agreed, "But right now…I'm more like Frankenstein…than anywhere near cool looking."

"Well, you are freakishly tall…"

"Dean. I'm being serious."

Dean shook his head and concentrated on stopping the blood flow from Sam's wounds. The blood kept oozing out despite his efforts, and he was becoming more and more frantic.

Sam swallowed hard and blinked, trying to clear his vision. "Dean…I'm dying."

"No." his brother said, gritting his teeth "Stop saying that."

Sam stared at him. "I made my choice...to save you. You need to accept that."

"Yeah, well, I can't!" Dean snapped, finally looking up. "You shouldn't have done it, Sam! You should have just left me in Hell and moved on!"

Sam shook his head. "You just don't get it, do you?" he said sadly.

"Get what? What is there for me to get? Everyone I care about dies—usually to save me! I—I can't—" his voice broke. "I can't watch you die again, Sammy." He said firmly. "I won't."

Sam sighed and looked away. There was a long pause.

"She made me watch." He whispered, his voice barely audible.

Dean looked up in confusion. "What?"

"Lilith." Sam said simply, his eyes downcast as his mind replayed the whole nightmarish scenario, "She made me watch."

Dean's heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what Sam was referring to, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. "What are you talking about?"

"She…she held me against the wall…as the hellhounds r-ripped you apart." Sam said shakily. He paused, feeling Dean's eyes burning into him, but he didn't look up. "You were screaming, Dean. Oh God, you were screaming…but I…I couldn't help you." He let out a sob. "I couldn't move. I just watched and screamed for her to stop…" he trailed off, and a tear trailed down his cheek, tracking blood with it until it dripped off his chin.

"Sam…"

Sam swallowed hard and ignored him. "And then…you stopped screaming," He laughed bitterly, "And believe it or not the silence was actually w-worse than the screaming—because silence meant that you were dead."

Dean stared at his brother, unsure of what to say.

"When I could finally move…it was too late. Your eyes stared right through me, and I had to deal with the fact that my big brother—my best friend—was suffering in Hell…because of me."

"There was nothing you could do." Dean said softly.

Sam shook his head. "You a-always save me, Dean…" he said, "But this time…this time I saved you."

Dean nodded. "You did." He said shakily. "You did good, Sam."

Sam looked up at him intently. "You're…g-going to be fine…" He said, forcing his words out, "You…and the others…can easily…defeat…the demons outside. I know it." He paused, and then a small smile formed on his face, "Dean…are you…h-holding my hand?"

Dean let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, "What? You…you're just imagining things, Sammy."

Sam's smile widened. "Yeah…that's what I thought." He gave Dean's hand a comforting squeeze. "I'll tell…Mom and Dad…you said hello."

Dean squeezed his eyes shut. "Sammy…no…"

"And Jess…"

"Don't do this to me, Sam…please…not again…" Dean begged, his voice cracking with emotion.

Sam looked at him. "I'm so glad you're okay."

Dean smiled at him softly, his eyes brimming with tears as he ran a hand through his brother's messy hair, so choked up that he couldn't say a word.

"Night, Dean." Sam whispered. He took one final breath and then his head fell lifelessly to the side. His eyes remained open, staring blankly ahead, and after a few moments they changed back to their usual chocolate brown color.

"No…" Dean said brokenly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Sammy, no…wake up…"

The sound of footsteps softly echoed down the wooden staircase and into the hall, but Dean didn't even notice. He stared down at his brother's body, the realization that he was dead hitting him like a slap in the face. The world spun around him and he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting not to be sick.

The footsteps reached the entrance to the room and then stopped abruptly. There was a brief pause.

"Not again…" Dean murmured as he leaned back against one of the legs of the wooden table, "Not again…"

"Dean…" a voice said softly.

The floorboards creaked softly as someone walked toward him, and in the back of his mind Dean finally realized that someone was there. He kept his eyes shut, unwilling to open them and see all the blood. "Go away." He whispered. "Whoever you are…just leave me alone."

Someone knelt beside him, and Dean felt a hand comfortingly grasp his shoulder.

"Dean…it's okay." The voice said again, and Dean realized who it was.

He opened his eyes slowly and stared into the face of his brother. "S-sam?" he said shakily.

"I'm here, Dean." Sam said softly. "I'm here."

For a moment Dean just stared back at him, letting the fact that Sam was still alive and kneeling right in front of him sink in. Then he reached out and pulled his brother into a tight hug.

For a moment Sam just knelt there, stunned, and then he returned the hug just as fiercely. "It's okay…" he said soothingly, cursing the life they lived as he felt his brother trembling. "It's okay."

Dean nodded and let out a shaky breath before pulling back reluctantly. "Sam…" he began, but stopped.

"I know." Sam said softly.

Dean sighed. "We need to stop doing this..." he murmured, running a hand over his face. "I—I don't honestly know how much more I can take."

Sam nodded sadly. He started to respond but saw Dean's eyes focus on something over his shoulder. He turned.

Ruby was standing in the doorway clutching a laundry basket that she had filled with objects.

Dean glared at her, waiting for her to make a trademark sarcastic comment and laugh at them.

"I…I'm sorry." Ruby said softly. She bit her lip, staring down at Sam's body with downcast eyes, and then walked into the room and gently placed the basket down on the floor.

Dean blinked, confused. Of all the things he had expected her to say, that wasn't one of them. "What, no witty remark?" he demanded.

Ruby smiled grimly. "Dean…" she said, and paused. "You really know absolutely nothing about me."

Bobby walked in carrying a box. "I found some things that might…be…useful…" he trailed off, the sight of Sam's body wiping all other thoughts from his mind. He sighed. "I'm getting too old for this..."

Sam watched as everyone in the room looked sadly at his broken body on the floor—it was unnerving, like he was watching his own funeral. "Uh…guys…" he said slowly, "I'm standing right here."

Dean's eyes snapped up. He nodded and smiled weakly. "Yeah, Sammy. You are."

Ruby stepped forward, a determined glint in her eyes. "So…" she began, "Any brilliant ideas on how to defeat all of Lilith's demonic followers using…" she looked around at the objects they had all selected, "…household items?"

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