Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

A/N: This is it, the final chapter. I really hope it doesn't suck.

Chapter 10: She Bought a Stairway

Burning embers continued to rain down around him, a stark beauty inherent in the spectacle they created. He could still hear the infant crying, unable to tell where it was coming from or how far away it was. But in that blazing inferno, the one he had manifested, all he could think about was that he had killed his own brother. Brandon had been twisted into some sort of monstrosity by his loneliness and his hunger for love, becoming a beast that ultimately had to be put down; that didn't change anything though. This place had won, Satan had won, and Sam could never undo what he had done here, no matter how hard he wished differently. Eventually, the fires started to burn out and were replaced by a thick choking cloud of ash, the blazing heat subsiding with it. A strong breeze swept through the area, carrying the ash away to unknown regions.

When it cleared, Sam found himself lying in a medium-sized concrete room, a full array of halogen lights burning brightly overhead. Looking across the room in the direction the crying was coming from, he saw a baby lying on the cement. It was wearing a diaper and a wrist band, it's little body writhing about in discomfort. Shocked by the sight of it, Sam tried to get to his feet and failed to even sit up. The pain was excruciating, bringing him fully back to reality. Something had to be broken somewhere in his body, a fact he was absolutely certain of just then. His ribs were killing him; every breath he took made him want to scream in agony. He could also feel something wrong with his left leg, that maybe it was broken too. Still, he needed to get over to that baby, his mind unable to reason why a baby was lying on the cement floor of this room.

Sam rolled himself over onto his stomach and pulled himself along the floor, using his good leg to push himself. Every inch forward brought him a whole new wave of pain, each one crashing into him overwhelmingly. He was out of breath and sweat was dripping from his face, but he couldn't allow himself to stop. In total, the trip across the room took at least a minute, his entire body too weak to do much else when he reached the crying infant. Sam reached out a shaking hand to the child and looked at was attached to the wrist. It was a hospital identification band and it read: Oliver, Charles David.

"Charlie," he whispered, his mind numb at the sight before him. Sam had utterly failed Brandon, something that wounded him deeply inside. But maybe, just maybe, he could have a second chance. "Hey there, little guy," he said, his voice scratchy and broken. Tears flowed down his face and he tried to take off his backpack, finding it too difficult to shrug it off his shoulders. He had to resort to unlatching the straps and letting the bag slide away. With that done, he unzipped his jacket and tried to pull it off. It wasn't easy in the least bit, his body unable to turn very much in his condition. After a few minutes of struggling with it, Sam managed to get the jacket off and he used it to wrap the little boy in. He had just enough energy left in him to curl his body around the child, before he lost track of things.

There was no way to tell how long he was there on the floor, using his body to shield the baby from the cold elements of the room. He had some awareness of his surroundings; it wasn't like he had lost consciousness completely. After a time, he started to hear a sound, almost like clapping. As the sound got louder, he realized that it was actually footsteps getting closer. There was no way he could protect himself or Charlie if it was a threat, not that he cared about himself so much then. But Charlie was an innocent and apparently his brother, meaning that Sam had to ensure his survival somehow. All he could do was pull himself even closer around the infant, who was thankfully quiet. Eventually the footsteps sounded so loud that whoever they belonged to must surely be coming up next to him.

"So did you find what you were looking for, Sam?" At first, the voice sounded unfamiliar, his mind trying to place it to someone's face and failing.

Suddenly, a set of feet entered his field of vision and he weakly lifted his head to see who it was. "Dr. Kaufman?"

"Yeah, it's me, kiddo," said the older man, crouching down in front of him.

"What are you doing here?"

"To bandage you up, it would seem," said Dr. Kaufman, reaching for Charlie.

Sam tightened his grip on the child, his instincts telling him to protect his own from a threat.

"Now Sam, the baby's going to be fine. I need to get at you right now, so please let me take him." He reluctantly let Charlie go and the other man moved him away to get better access to Sam. He pulled a large black canvas bag into view and gently moved him onto his back, delicately probing his various injuries. For his part, Sam was mostly able to keep from vocalizing his pain. Dr. Kaufman worked quickly and efficiently. "You did quite a number on yourself there, didn't you?"

"Not really my idea," said Sam, gritting his teeth in pain. Dr. Kaufman moved on to his left leg and started feeling it for a break, his touch gentle and sure. He had obviously had years and years of experience with this, something that he found a little comforting. After several minutes of silence, the doctor stopped and looked at him.

"Well, I don't think your leg is broken, but it probably is fractured. The cuts and scrapes shouldn't be much of an issue, except for that nasty gash on your forehead. That one will most likely leave a permanent scar, I'm afraid, as well as the one on your leg that you tried to stitch up. As for your ribs, I think you broke at least one, but you'll need to get an X-ray to be certain. The same goes for your leg, get it checked by someone with actual equipment." Dr. Kaufman started putting his things back in the bag, leaving some bandages out. "I'm still gonna need to wrap your ribs up, before we're done."

He cut Sam's borrowed shirt off, using a pair of scissors from his bag. The air was cold on his skin, but it felt good at the same time. It hurt badly to be forced to sit up, while his midsection was tightly bandaged. When it was finished, Dr. Kaufman put the last of his things away and stood up. "There, all done," he said.

"Could you give me a hand?" asked Sam, not feeling up to trying it on his own.

"Yeah sure," he said, doing as Sam had requested. Once he was on his feet, Sam turned to Charlie, who was sleeping soundly in his makeshift bed. Dr. Kaufman stepped in when Sam awkwardly tried to kneel down and grab the baby, while making sure he wasn't aggravating anything. Getting the sleeping infant to Sam, so he didn't have to make the attempt, Dr. Kaufman turned to leave and grabbed his bag. "Goodbye Sam," he said, "I don't ever imagine we will meet again."

"Goodbye sir," he said, before looking down at Charlie. His face was sweet and innocent, unblemished by the cruelty and suffering Sam had come to know very well. Sam didn't know if he would ever be alright again, but he would make certain that this little boy would be. He stood there for another minute, just holding his little brother and gazing at his features. Sam's body was battered, his mind fragile, and his spirit wounded; but in that moment, he felt a faint thrill of wonder at the sight of the baby in his arms. For awhile, he just let himself stay lost in that little bit of euphoria, before he managed to collect his thoughts together. He did need to get out of here, the urge to get home getting really strong.

Sam turned around and saw an open flight of stairs heading up to some unknown location. Before he tried to take them up, he grabbed his bag and held it by the top strap. His other hand was dedicated to holding Charlie, who was beginning to stir. It was very difficult to limp up the flight of stairs, especially since he didn't have any free hands to hold himself up with. Sam took his time in getting up, taking it a step at a time and giving himself plenty of rest between each one. Charlie began making a variety of small baby noises, getting his attention just as he reached a thick steel door at the top.

Looking down at Charlie, he said, "hey, we're almost out of here buddy," The baby gurgled in response and he laughed. "Good to know you agree."

The door led outside, opening out into a small meadow in the dark cluster of trees. He could see that the fog was starting to clear up, like a veil lifting off of the world and letting the light in unchallenged. It lifted away to reveal something that brought a brief chuff of laughter out of him. His car was sitting there not ten feet from his position, looking to be in pristine condition. All trace of it being in a crash was just gone, like it had never even happened. He started limping to the car, trying to keep his pace steady.

Sam reached the car and opened the passenger side door. Inside, he saw something of interest. Sitting in the middle of the backseat and hooked up to the restraint device, was a car-seat. A note was taped to the front of the object with something written on it. It read:

For the little one –D.

Resolving to buy a new one as soon as he could, Sam strapped him in, tangling clumsily with the straps and harnesses for a minute, and shut the backdoor. Popping the trunk, he slipped his backpack inside, noticing that all the luggage he had with him at the motel in Ashfield was packed neatly within it's depths. The Devil was really making things convenient for him, sparking a wave of paranoia in him that he couldn't shake. Closing the trunk, he settled himself in the driver's seat, his body aching in response to that action. Sam took a look back at Charlie, who was looking around curiously at his environment, and a ghost of a smile briefly visited his face. He started the car and drove down the path. It soon took him to a paved road, cars whizzing by him in both directions. Picking one of these directions, he pulled out into civilization and turned his back forever on the nightmare of Silent Hill.

The next five days went by in a blur, as he mechanically drove across the country as quickly and efficiently as he could. As it was, the only memories that were at all clear, all revolved around Charlie. He could recall limping his way into a Wal-Mart and shopping for whatever he thought he would need for the boy. For his part, Charlie was a content baby and didn't cry all that much. There was also the first time he had to change his diaper in a gas station rest room, a task he found incredibly difficult. By the end of the trip, the little boy had Sam firmly wrapped around his tiny fingers.

Sam, after that five day drive, pulled into the parking garage in his apartment building. Getting Charlie and his day bag, before taking out the crutch he bought for himself. He took the elevator up to his floor and slowly limped his way to his apartment. From out in the hall, he could hear voices arguing on the other side. Instantly, he recognized the voices of his friends and his girlfriend. They were discussing him.

"-don't care, Ben. He hasn't called any of us in almost two weeks now. Something's very wrong here and we need to do something about it." That was Andi talking.

Ben responded, "then what do you want us to do? Go all the way across the country to find him?

"If we have to, yes Ben, that is what I want us to do," she replied.

"Come on, guys," said Sock, "maybe we could talk to Tony, see if he can help."

Sam, hearing enough, opened the door and walked inside. The conversation stopped immediately upon his entrance, everyone else in the room staring at him dumbly. He merely closed the door and set Charlie in his car-seat on the floor. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he cracked it and took a nice long swig. "Hi guys," he said, trying to sound more nonchalant than he could possibly be.

"Sam?" said Andi. "you're back."

"And you're using a crutch," observed Sock, before turning his attention to baby Charlie. "Then there's the baby."

"Uh, yeah. That's Charlie. He's had a long day, so he's sleeping. If we could keep the noise to a limit, that would be appreciated." Sam took another long drink from his beer, before setting the bottle on the counter.

Andi rushed over that second and threw her arms around him in a tight hug, sending a sharp pain out from his ribs. "Ow," he said, "ease up, honey, getting' a little painful there.

"Oh," she said, letting him go. "Sorry." She leaned forward again and kissed him deeply and passionately, before slapping sharply across the face. "You had me so worried, thinking you were dead, or, or hurt, or something. I don't know. Why didn't you call? And what about the crutch? Are you okay?"

"Oh can we please get to the interesting stuff," interrupted Sock, "like what's up with the baby?"

Sam sighed, saying, "it's a long story and I need to tell Andi something first." Turning to her, he said, "can we talk somewhere in private?"

Seeing the look on his face, Andi frowned and said, "okay. What's this all about?"

"Would you guys keep an eye on Charlie? He's been sleeping for awhile now, but that's not gonna keep him down for long." Without waiting for a response, he turned back to Andi and said, "can we take this to my bedroom?"

"Uh, yeah, let's go." They went into his room and shut the door. He proceeded to tell her about the possibility of the Devil being his father and how his parents had kept it a secret. When he was done, Sam held his breath and hoped that she wouldn't walk out the door and never speak to him again. If that happened, he didn't think he would be able to cope with it. All his fears were unfounded, as she leaned over and gave him a hug at the end. Relief flooded his system, warming him inside deeply and completely.

"Sam, I'm not sure what there is to say to that."

"If you don't want to be with me anymore, I would understand." Sam really wanted to kick himself for saying that, as if by the act of saying it she would decide to agree and break up with him. Fortunately, that turned out to not be the case.

"I'm upset that you thought you couldn't tell me, but I'm not gonna break up with you. You're only in the doghouse right now."

Sam laughed a little at that, saying, "I never thought I would love being in the doghouse, but that makes me happy." Getting back to more serious issues, he said, "do you wanna go back out, so I can tell you about what happened to me?"

"Happened to you?" Fear flashed across Andi's eyes at hearing that.

"Come on, I'll explain out there." They left his bedroom, to see Ben and Sock crowded around Charlie's car-seat.

Sock turned to Sam and said, "now that you told her that you might have the coolest dad in the world, can you tell us who the baby is?"

"I told you, his name's Charlie and he's my brother." Collectively, the others' jaws dropped upon hearing that.

The next two weeks were hectic for Sam, with his new responsibilities to Charlie and returning to work (the kind that he got paid for). Fortunately, he was only put on light duty after a trip to the doctor confirmed that he had a fractured leg and one broken rib. No more than a few days after returning, he broke down and bought a pack of smokes at a gas station, not giving any thought to the fact that it was a pack of Marlboros he had pointed to at the counter. As it was, he had very little time to have another mental breakdown. That didn't mean that he was fine, far from it; every night he would come awake startled and certain that he was in extreme mortal danger. A few times, Sam would wake up screaming and wouldn't come out of it for minutes at a time. Those were the worst, as they always woke up Charlie, who was sleeping in his crib not ten feet from him. He had told his friends and Andi about being a triplet and that Brandon was dead, but left out pretty much everything else. The name of Silent Hill was never spoken, nor were any of his memories of that place shared. The others knew that there was much more to the story than he let on, but didn't press him about it. Even Sock, who was never known for his sense of limits and boundaries, only brought it up a few times.

Ben and Andi both knew the extent of his injuries, since one of them helped clean his wounds properly after almost a week without it being done, and the other was his girlfriend. He was grateful to Ben for not getting on his case about going alone, but Andi and Sock gave him the riot act after he told them that he had "gone to a very bad place" to get what he was looking for.

In the time he had been back home with his friends –no, his family –Sam got into the swing of things with caring for an infant. He wasn't sure how he was going to go about getting the paperwork together to make his guardianship of Charlie legalized, but figured he would find a way. Charlie, for his part, was an absolute angel, never letting him slide too far into his own inner darkness. That little boy was his only salvation, the one thing that let him know that his horrific ordeal might have been worth undergoing.

Concerning the events that occurred in that hell-hole, he always managed to bring himself back to them. In a way, he was still stuck in that disgusting purgatory. It wasn't hell, that he knew, since hell was supposed to be his ultimate destination and that was just not it. No, it was some sort of in between place, a junction connecting hell to earth through blood and fear. It was there, that place in the middle, where he was trapped like an insect in a pitcher plant. Sam wasn't sure if he would ever find his way out of that twisted maze.

He was currently sitting in his room, looking at that strange medallion he found in the hospital locker room (the mystery of it quietly rolling through his mind), with Charlie playing in the playpen that Sock got for him one day. Where Sock procured it from, Sam didn't really want to know, but he was extremely grateful for it, nonetheless. The closet door was slightly ajar, the backpack that had seen him through it all could be seen in the shadows there. In truth, there were still so many things left unresolved from his ordeal and he would still need to get closure on them, if he was to ever move on. For one thing, he still hadn't found any proof, one way or the other, if the Devil was his father.

Getting up, he hobbled over to his closet and pulled out the backpack. His fingers enclosed around the medical records file he found in the hospital, his knuckles slightly brushing against an unlabeled VHS tape that was lying forgotten inside. Pulling out the file, Sam set it on his desk and sat down. He opened it up and started to go through it, hoping to find something that would provide him with some avenue of investigation. His hope was to continue his search, this time with a little more caution in mind. Sam marked down bits and pieces he thought might be good places to start, organizing them on a blank sheet of paper. Nothing jumped out at him though, not until he was looking through the birth certificates. When he was reading them in the hospital basement, Sam got caught on the fact that he was actually a triplet and hadn't read any further. If he had, he would have seen the unfamiliar name listed as his Godfather. Reading the name a second time, he asked himself, "who the hell is John Winchester?"

-fin

A/N 2: There will be a sequel to this that will only have Silent Hill in reference and not as a substantial crossover. Please R&R and let me know if you thought this was good or