authors notes: i´m soooooooooooo sorry pals , i know i´m a bad person and i update once a year. I recently became a medical doctor and my life is a chaos. I hope i could update more often..i will try with all my heart.

All my love to the few readers i still have.

"Fuck" shouted Jack after another cut appeared and disappeared in his torso. "What are you doing out there Dean?"

After cutting several snake's heads Jack took the phone and called Dean. After what seemed to Jack a lifetime a very rough and faint voice answered.

"Yeah?"

"Dean? Jack here, what happened? Did you finish digging? Are you ok?"

"I'm trying!" shouted Dean and closed the cell phone.

Dean was shivering quite hard. Hot tears crossing his face. He had given up digging a few minutes ago. Now he was laying in that hole trying to focus on breathing and staying conscious but he was failing in that job.

He closed his eyes for a moment. He realized that his heart wasn't pounding like before, now it barely jumped in his chest. Dean was exhausted and breathing with short, shallow puffs.

"C'mon, Dean! Sammy needs you. Jack needs you. C'mon you can rest later. That it's, open your eyes, stand up and grab that frigging spade and finish the job. After you save Sammy you can die all you want, I promise", he told himself. That small voice inside Dean's head was right, what was he doing? Since when couldn't the great Dean Winchester finish a simple dig, salt and burn?

Dean weakly opened his eyes, trying to stay focused. " C'mon I can do this. For God sake I've been digging, salting and burning since I was 7 years old. This job is a piece of cake!"He sat on the ground shivering heavily. "C'mon, I have to help Sammy…err…Jack".

With unsteady legs Dean stood up, all the world dancing around him. "Okay, Dean…now digging," he said aloud. With each spade full of dirt he felt he was dying. With each spade full of dirt his will became stronger but his body weaker.

By the time he found the coffin he was moving only by will. His body was numb, he couldn't feel it anymore.

With a loud crack , Dean broke open the coffin. " I got you sucker!" shouted Dean just to remember he was still alive.

"I don't think so" said a voice right in front of Dean.

Dean blinked a few times and finally saw him or it. A dense, black mist with a crazy face looking at him. "What do you think you are doing ?" the mist asked.

"Finishing you, you bastard" yelled Dean, searching for a match in his jacket pocket.

"You're gonna love hell, plenty of fucking psychos like you to play with!"

"You gonna visit it first!" shouted the mist and sent Dean flying several feet back. Dean landed head first in a bunch of leaves.

"Ouch! So you want to play a bit? Let's play then sucker!" shouted Dean. With strength he didn't know he still had, he started running like mad, face twisted with fury through the tombstones.

"Don't be silly, boy. You can't win," laughed Tony and cuts started showing on Dean's face and torso.

"Don't you dare to cut my pretty face, psycho!" Dean was full of adrenaline, jumping from tombstone to tombstone trying to reach Tony's grave to grab his shotgun and finished this nasty job.

Tony was having the time of his life chasing Dean, making him fly, smashing him into the trees or tombstones, cutting him….making him suffer.

And Dean was jumping, running, trying to forgot about his bad heart, damaged lungs, the cuts covering his chest and face and most of all the hole in his heart because Sammy wasn't there helping him, reminding him why he had to live, what his mission in this hard life was.

Dean was by Kate Todd's tombstone trying to catch his breathe, calculating groggily how many feet away was from Tony's grave when suddenly someone shouted, "Leave him alone!!!"

"Sammy? Sammy!!" thought Dean opening his unfocused eyes, trying to get up for a better look at the boy a few feet away.

"Dean, stay low!" shouted the boy. "You sonofabitch, come here and fight with someone who can fight back!!"

A blast from a shotgun was heard.

The dark mist disappeared in a second and reappeared by that boy's side with Tony's killers face twisted in hate.

"Who you think you're talking to, crappy boy? I'm the great Tony Dinozzo, I've killed thousand of people and I can smash you whenever I want!" yelled the mist and started cutting that boy's face and torso.

"Dean, Dean…are you ok? I gonna distract this psycho for a while and when you feel up to finish the job…." the boy wanted to say something more but was cut by Tony's fury, blood running from all over his face and chest, head connecting with a near tree.

"Sam!! Sam!!. Sonofabitch, I'm gonna kill you, nobody messes with my brother!" shouted Dean. Running forward he suddenly fell into Tony's grave. He got his shotgun and started firing without thinking, without seeing, just trusting in his guts and instincts.

"Sammy! Talk to me! Are you all right?. Sam?" The desperation in Dean's voice was deep, his voice cracked with emotions never spoken, his eyes filled with tears.

Dean pulled himself out the hole with the shotgun at ready. He could hear the fight far away but not see a thing because of the tears, the dirt in his eyes and the exhaustion.

"Hang on, Sammy! I'm gonna help you!" Dean yelled. He started pouring the salt and the fuel in the grave.

"Sayonara psycho" Dean said with a grin, sending a match flying into the grave.

In that moment all Dean's adrenaline run out his damaged body. He fell to the ground with a thud. His chest was burning, his heart barely pumping. He knew in that moment that it was the end of his road. That he couldn't free Sam.

He had failed.

But Sammy had come to help him. His Sammy…his Sammy was there to help him.

That was his very last thought.

The boy who has helped Dean knelt by his side touching Dean's arm carefully and with pity in his eyes.

"Dean?….Dean?. Talk to me man!….Dean?…I'm Jack , Dean……DEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!"