Come Home

Chapter Two

"Dean? Dean, where are you? Dean!"

Sam Winchester stared around blankly. He recalled clearly being with Dean inside the Impala after his brother stopped him from completing the third trial that would've closed Hell for good and taken his life.

The young Winchester remembered the physical and emotional toll the trials had taken on him. He recalled his confession in the Church and the look on his big brother's face when he told him what it had been.

Sam hadn't wanted to stop. He hadn't wanted to fail his brother yet again which in the end if why he gave in to Dean's pleas to stop. It had been the most honest emotion Sam could recall hearing and seeing on his brother in several years and he'd felt safe when he gave in to return the hug Dean offered.

Of course as Sam also knew he was a Winchester and that always meant Murphy's Law applied and something would go wrong if it could. It had and his memories after collapsing in agony were a little sparse except he could remember hearing and feeling Dean.

He'd seen the angels as they fell from Heaven, wondering how they'd get blamed for that, but then all he could hear was the rumble of the Impala and his brother's deep voice trying to reassure him that everything would be alright even when Sam was sure it wasn't going to be.

As he looked around the woods he was in to slowly realize he was alone here Sam was now fairly certain he was far, far from alright.

Pulling the collar of his jacket up around his neck to ward off the unusual chill that seemed to be soaking right through his bones, he shivered while automatically still calling for Dean because there could be only one solid reason for him to wake up someplace strange without his older brother and a sharp stab of fear went through Sam at the thought of being dead or dying.

Listening to the sound of the wind and birds in the surrounding trees should've been relaxing but all Sam did was wait for the pain to come or for the expected bright light and he couldn't help thinking when he told Dean there was a light at the end of the tunnel he hadn't seriously meant this tunnel or this light.

Sam thought he heard Dean calling him but his brother's voice was too far away and dim for him to find it or reach for it and he wanted to reach for it. He didn't want to die like this. He didn't want to leave Dean alone like this or for this reason because he wasn't foolish enough not to know how his brother would react if he died.

The trials would claim his life even though he stopped them which meant that no matter how hard Sam had tried he'd still fail Dean. He failed to close Hell, he failed to cure Crowley and now he was failing to survive them, leaving his brother alone to face whatever the hell consequences would come from this.

"Face it, Sam. You're as much a failure now as you ever were," he muttered to himself, having to suddenly sit down under a tree when pain seared through his body much like it had in the church and he wished his brother could be with him here though admitting to be scared enough to want his older brother to hold his hand while he died would've made Sam embarrassed if he cared right then.

"There's nothing wrong with being scared of dying and you're far from a failure, son."

Sam's whole body stilled as he felt his heart nearly stick in his throat, looking up at who'd spoken and accepting he was on the wrong side of the tunnel. "Dad," he breathed.

"Sam," John Winchester looked exactly like Sam remembered from the last day they'd spoken in a hospital before he made a deal to save Dean's life; the first thing that began the slow descent to Hell and back for both brothers.

Still rugged looking with the faint showing of gray in his black hair and beard, he had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket while keeping a safe distance from his youngest child as if not wanting to alarm Sam more than he already was.

The silence was huge as father and son looked at one another for a long moment before Sam finally took the chance to speak again. "Am…am I already dead?" he asked shakily, wondering if he'd at least had the chance to tell Dean goodbye one last time.

"No, you're not dead yet but…it's not good," John admitted, inclining his head as if asking for permission to sit down. "You're brother's doing his best to find a way to save you but then I think you know that Dean won't give up easily…it's on your end to keep fighting to go home to him," he concluded grimly.

A little stunned that his Dad was asking permission for anything, Sam merely nodded and then held his breath. It had never been a secret that Sam and John didn't have a good relationship for a large part of Sam's life.

It seemed like from the moment Sam became a teenager to the day he walked out the door to go to college it was constant fighting between them with Dean usually stuck in the middle.

Since then Sam's actually begun to understand a lot of his Dad's motives for being the way he was and while there was still issues he couldn't yet forgive or forget he was glad to have even a short amount of time with his Dad even if it was only to say goodbye.

"You said I wasn't a failure," however was the first thing that popped out of his mouth and that was because Sam had never felt like he'd measured up to anything in John's eyes. "You always said I would never be as good as Dean or…"

"I said a lot of things to you growing up that I shouldn't have, Sam," John began grimly, sitting down beside his son to look at his face and saw so much of the boy he'd once been in those lost hazel eyes. "It took dying to make me see how many errors I made in raising you and Dean, to let me see that pretty much from the night your Mom died that no matter how hard to tried to protect you boys I was ultimately leading you down the wrong path.

"I wanted to avenge your Mother, I wanted to find the thing that killed her and then when I realized what was out there I let my grief and loss drive me to justify saving other people the pain I suffered it was alright to forget how to be a proper father," he turned the wedding ring on his finger. "I didn't want to lose you boys like I'd lost Mary and I laid way too much responsibility on Dean when he was still basically a toddler but you seemed to respond more to him than you did me and I realized it had been Dean and Mary you were used to being around because I worked too long even back then.

"It took a long time to make me see that I'd raised soldiers instead of sons. I think it was the last night in the hospital while I just watched you sleep on a cot in your brother's room because you'd not so politely refused to leave him alone now that he was off the machines that I saw it and finally understood why you and I fought so damn much," John smiled a little, something that Sam knew he'd hardly seen growing up.

"What?" Sam asked, wondering if shapeshifters could infiltrate wherever he was currently because this was certainly not the father he grew up with. "We were still arguing in the hospital up until you…I mean…" he got it now why his Dad said he didn't want to fight anymore.

John had known that morning that it would be the last time he'd be with his boys and hadn't wanted his and Sam's last words to be harsh. Sam wished he'd thought of that then since he could still recall his horror at finding his Dad's body lying on a floor in an empty room.

"The last night as I watched you and Dean sleep I realized so many of my mistakes, Sam but the one I realized the most was what you'd been trying to tell me for so many years even before I drove you away from your brother," John's smile was calm while he watched his son's face as he went on. "I was more of a Drill Sergeant. Dean was more of a father to you. Dean did raise you and you and I were basically strangers because when I was around all I did was bark orders at you."

Sam could vividly recall the night he left for college and the shock on his Dad's face when he'd thrown it out that Dean had raised him. "I…want to say I was wrong but…" even now to Sam's mind when he thought of who'd raised him and taught him to be the man he was today he could only picture his brother's face. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispered, tensing automatically when a firm hand gripped his shoulder.

"Don't apologize for who you feel, Sam…especially when you were right. I spent your life hunting and trying to make you and Dean into hunters even though I knew it's not what you wanted. So, I'm proud of the man Dean taught you to be…even though you have a lot of me and Mary in you that I also didn't see until it was too late," John chuckled, leaning his head back against the tree. "I used to say you and Dean got your stubbornness from your Mom but there are times when I see a lot of me in you too, especially when you brood."

There was something relaxing about sitting here with his Dad like this until the pain went up his arm again to make him clamp his teeth together to keep the cry of pain inside when a hand covered the one he'd placed on his arm. "I…I don't wanna die, Dad," he murmured softly, hating to admit this fear to his Dad since John had always taught them to shield such things. "I don't wanna leave Dean like this cause I'm…afraid of what he'll do."

"I know, Sammy," John sighed, squeezing his son's hand under his as if to help him over the pain while hating to see his youngest boy in such pain. "I'm sorry you and your brother have had to go through all this. I'm sorry I didn't choose another path when I still had the chance."

"It wasn't all your fault, Dad," Sam replied when the pain eased off and he could speak again. "As Dean and I learned our lives had been pretty much decided on even before you and Mom met. You were just led along to make sure things played out as planned," he grinned a little. "I just don't think Heaven or Hell planned on how stubborn my big brother could be."

John laughed at that, rubbing his hand up Sam's arm when he felt him shivering. "Yeah, that side of Dean came from Mary without a doubt but I'm glad of it. You know what's happening to you, Sammy?"

"It's still Sam. Only Dean gets to call me Sammy," the correction was mild and automatic from years of doing it. "Whatever's inside me from doing the trials is still killing me even though I didn't complete them. I should've just finished the trial cause if I'm still going to die it seems a waste and…Dean'll be in more danger cause Hell is still open cause I failed to…"

"Sam, you didn't fail," John broke in firmly, using the stern tone Sam was more used to hearing from him. "If you would've finished that trial you would've been dead anyway and your brother would still be alone to face what's coming," he shifted to take his son's chin in his hand so he could hold his eyes. "You're in bad shape and I won't lie to you by saying the odds are good but you do still have a chance to make it back to your brother if you don't give in before."

Sam blinked while trying to understand what his father meant when it slowly hit him. The pain, the guilt he'd been holding for so long, the inner fear of Dean walking away or replacing him again were all things that had worn him down toward the end of the trials and had been things that had made him want to finish it.

He didn't want to let his brother down by failing in the trials after Sam had assured Dean that he could do them. He also didn't want to be around to see what he'd be replaced with again but Sam believed Dean when he'd told him that nothing would ever be placed above him. He believed Dean then and he wanted to believe that his brother was with him now.

"Dean's beside you, son," John assured him as if seeing his thoughts and fears. "He hasn't left your side. He's scared too, Sam, but Dean won't give up on you and he'll do whatever he feels he has to if it means saving you. Remember that and keep listening for him," he stood up to extend a hand. "Do you remember these woods?"

At first Sam thought they were just generic woods though he couldn't figure out why he'd be in the woods to begin with since camping was not high on either his or Dean's list of things to do but something about them now pulled his memory.

He seemed to recall being little, before he learned the truth of what his Dad did, and being in a tent with Dean when it started to storm but he'd eventually shrugged that off as a childish nightmare…until now.

"You took us camping…here," he looked around at the clearing surrounded by trees he was in as John watched the amazing process of his son's mind at work. "I was probably…six and Dean was ten and it was so unreal for me because you were actually around for once. You burnt hotdogs in the fire but we still ate 'em cause Dean told me that you'd cry if we didn't and I…I didn't want to see you cry," Sam's smile was shy as he glanced over at his father.

"Then you let us eat the marshmallows before cooking them and it was the best weekend I could remember having cause we were all together," Sam closed his eyes and could hear the thunder of the storm, recalling how scared he'd been and how Dean had tried to be brave to keep him calm. "Dean let me sleep with him but when it got worse you came and slept in our tent and…"

The sudden lump in his throat made it hard to speak because that was one of the few times he could remember his Dad holding them both and just making up stories until the storm passed. "I used to ask Dean why we never camped again with you and I think because he didn't know he made up that he didn't like camping and because my big brother didn't like it I didn't like it anymore either but I…still missed it and often wondered if because I'd gotten so scared of the storm is why you didn't take us anymore."

"No, Sam. I didn't take you boys camping anymore just because I got too busy with hunting and other things that never should've come between me and my boys," John stepped up to place a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it warmly. "When you go back and you will, if Dean has a say in it and you fight for it, will go back… tell your brother to take you camping and remind him that I wouldn't have burned those hotdogs if he hadn't been trying to make you into bait for some kind of thing he invented to scare you."

That made Sam laugh because it seemed so much like something his older brother would do. "What do I do, Dad?" he asked slowly, understanding somehow that his time with John was about up. "You can't stay with me, can you?"

"God, I haven't heard you ask me that since you were probably six or seven and not wanting me to leave you and Dean with Jim one time," John was startled at how much that simple question tore at his heart and how much he wished he could protect this grown young man that he would still always see as the newborn laying in Mary's arms. "As much as I want to stay with you for this, son…I can't, but you'll find others along the way to help you until you reach then end. Just remember to listen for your brother, Sam."

It seemed to Sam liked he'd been listening for his brother's voice since he was little. "Dad?" he turned to grab his Dad's arm like he couldn't remember doing since he'd been small. "In case I…I don't see you again or anything I just want you to know I…I…love you and I'm sorry I didn't try to understand better."

"You did everything you could at the time, Sam. Nothing was ever your fault and I'm proud of the man you've become," John stepped forward to reach out and hug his son fully, silently hoping his boys could get through this latest hurdle. "I love you too and so does your Mom. Now get going. You don't want to keep Dean waiting too long or who knows the trouble he'll get into."

Sam knew only too well the kind of trouble his brother could get into without him, especially if he was trying to find a way to save Sam and nodded, stepping through the tree line to blink at the sudden burst of pain that shot up his arm and nearly took him to his knees if not for a hand on his shoulder.

"Sweetie, didn't I ever give you or your brother my patented lecture on staying out of trouble?"

It took several breaths for Sam to be able to stand fully. Then it was just a matter of working up the nerve to open his eyes to look down into the motherly smiling face of Ellen Harvelle. "Hi, Ellen," he murmured, beginning to see a pattern developing here. "Am I going to see everyone I've let down in some way?" he asked, suddenly tired.

"You didn't let me down, Sam and you'll see whoever it is you need to see," Ellen smoothed back the boy's hair while eyeing its length with a critical eye. "You know I'd have thought Dean would be all over you to cut this because if it gets much longer it'll be as long as Jo's," he commented, leading him over to a stool by the bar that the hurt hunter realized was Harvelle's Roadhouse before demons burned it down.

"He has and has threatened me with clippers a few times," Sam eased onto a stool to rub his arm, shivering again with the cold and blinking at the slightly louder but still dim voice shouting for him. "He's scared," he knew this without even being able to hear his brother clearly. "Dean hardly ever gets scared, Ellen."

Sitting on the stool beside him, the shorter dark haired woman who'd hovered over both Winchesters like a surrogate mother gazed at him with a gentle smile. "He does, Sam. You just don't ever get to see it when Dean's scared because when he's scared it's usually over you."

"I guess I've given him plenty of reasons then over the years," Sam sighed, rubbing his arm when his fingers brushed over the black rubber like bracelet that he was a little startled to see. "I don't want to die and leave him like this, Ellen but I also can't help but wonder if Dean wouldn't be better off without me or OW!" he yelped at the not so gentle slap to his head.

"Do you honestly believe that, Sam?" she demanded firmly, recalling the late night phone conversations she and Bobby Singer had over these two boys who often could drive her nuts faster than her own daughter could. "Dean will self-destruct without you. That is one boy who does not do alone well, especially when it means not having you.

"Has he ever told you how many times he nearly ate that gun when you were in the Cage? Did Bobby ever mention how worried he was over Dean drinking too much that year he didn't have you or that he'd either wrap the Impala around a pole or actually find a spell that would allow him to enter the Cage with you?" Ellen could see the flashes of emotions in those deep eyes and knew Sam hadn't known any of that. "Sweetie, Dean lives for you and without you now that Bobby's gone I doubt if Dean would live much longer than an hour after you die."

That's what Sam was afraid of but he also wasn't sure if he could come back from whatever is wrong with him. "Something happened to me during the Trials, Ellen. Something changed and…it's not happy that I didn't finish them. I want to be with Dean. I want to keep hunting with him and I don't want to let him face whatever is happening now alone but…I don't know how to go home," he murmured, fingers picking at the bracelet restlessly like he used to do before looking up at her with tears in his eyes. "I want my brother, Ellen. I want to go home."

"Then you go out that door and listen for him, Sam," Ellen replied, hugging this man that was still much a boy in her heart while smoothing a hand through his hair as he held on to her one last time. "You listen for Dean and you let go of the guilt because everything that happened back then had a reason. I never once held it against you boys what happened with Jo and me. My girl would've protected Dean just like you would've and I'm proud of both you boys. Now get moving before you get me crying more than I already am."

Sam's smile was shaky as he stood up but held on for another moment longer. "I never knew my Mom, Ellen… but I used to like to think she wouldn't mind it that one of the reasons I liked going to the Roadhouse was because you never looked at me any differently," he took a breath. "I told Jo once that I envied her because she at least had a Mom who loved her and looked after her."

"Well now you did it," Ellen's eyes filled with tears as she reached up to cup his face in both hands. "I never knew Mary but I think I can say that she loved you and as far as I was concerned you and your brother were the sons I never had…though I would've shot Dean if he would've put any moves on Jo."

"Dean was scared of you," Sam laughed, feeling a little better now. "Thanks for being here, Ellen. We miss you and Jo…and Ash."

"Now you're just lying to be nice," Ellen smiled, giving him a gentle nudge. "Out the door and listen for Dean, honey. He's getting desperate now so it'll also come down to you accepting and understand that whatever he does now he did it to save you. Don't hold that against him because you know in your heart the things that you'd do for him."

Not sure he understood that, Sam did know what he'd be willing to do and the things he had done for Dean in the past and so figured there was very little now that could upset or worry him barring demon deals. "Bye, Ellen," he looked back once as he opened the door but was quickly surrounded by pain shooting through his body, his brother's broken voice screaming for him now and begging him to not let go before things began to settle down.

"Shit, this is getting worse," he groaned as he held his arm against his chest, realizing that with each door he exits his brother's voice was louder.

Dean's voice was too the point that Sam could read the emotion and knew something was very wrong for Dean to sound like he was now.

"Wanna go home," Sam whispered to himself, keeping his eyes closed as the pain once again subsided and slowly came to realize that he was lying flat on his back on a soft surface. "Where am I now?" he opened his eyes to look up at a ceiling and then he was rolling off the bed with a gasp. "No, not here. Anywhere else but here."

"You didn't used to think of this place like that."

"Yeah, that was probably before I watched you burn on the ceiling…Jess," Sam looked to the door and was shocked that he was curling in on himself with a violent sob because even now, nearly nine years since that fateful night, it still brought pain to see Jessica.

Blond, perky and beautiful was what Sam thought when he first met Jessica Lee Moore and what he still thought on the few times these days when he allowed himself to think of her.

The petite blond was wearing the same shorts and Smurfs shirt she wore the night Dean broke into the apartment, the last night Sam had seen her alive.

"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say, fingers gripping the bracelet tighter as if drawing strength from his brother who had given it to him. "Jess, if I'd known what would happen I never would've gotten involved with you."

"I loved you, Sam. Even if Brady hadn't introduced us I would have pestered you until you asked me out," Jessica replied with an easy smile, sitting on the bed much like she would when studying and held out a hand to him. "It's okay to sit here with me. I'm not going to hurt you."

That wasn't the issue for Sam. The memories in this room, of seeing Jessica on the ceiling, was the issue but slowly he took the hand to sit on the edge of the bed but kept positioned that he could move if he had to.

"It wasn't your fault," she spoke before he could and then grinned at his look of disbelief. "It wasn't. You didn't know what Brady had become or why he introduced us. There was nothing you could've done."

"If I hadn't left with Dean, if I'd have stayed here…" Sam had used to try to convince himself of this years ago as well but his brother's reasoning had also been sound…and so was Jessica's.

"If you had stayed you could've been killed or hurt or worse, Sam," she argued softly, placing a hand over one of his clenched fists. "They wanted you. I knew that."

Sam shook his head sadly, turning his hand over to lace their fingers together loosely. "You didn't know what I was or what I came from, Jess. You had no idea the dangers following me that I thought I'd left behind when I went to Stanford. You had no clue the real reason my brother came for me the night he did or…"

"I might not have known everything but I do know the real reason Dean came to the apartment the night he did, Sam," Jessica's smile turned a little sad and she chewed on her lip like she would when uneasy. "Maybe the reason he gave you, looking for your father, was true and served as a valid excuse but it wasn't the honest reason your brother came to Stanford."

Reaching up to stroke her fingers through his long hair, Jessica smiled as she watched Sam's face try to figure out her words. "Dean came to Stanford for more than just to ask you to help him look for your Dad. He came for you."

"Yeah, because he wanted me to help him look for Dad," Sam was having a hard time focusing as the pain in his body seemed to increase but when Jessica eased off the bed to go to the dresser to remove a battered envelope he'd kept hidden in case of emergencies he frowned. "Jess?"

"Dean came to Stanford the night he did, he came to get you when he did because I called him, Sam," the young blond woman brought the envelope back as she sat back down. "You never spoke of your family normally but one time when you were really sick you did. You talked about your brother mostly and toward the end of senior year when I noticed that Brady was acting weirder than normal I started paying more attention."

Jessica dumped the envelope out even though Sam knew what was in it. Pictures of him and Dean, a card with all of his brother's cell phone numbers on it and a letter of who to call in case of serious emergencies but he hadn't known she'd ever found it.

"One day I was helping out in the library when I heard Brady talking with someone about you. He was saying things were progressing fine and that you were so blind to what was going on he could step in and kill you without you even suspecting anything. That after Halloween it would be time to take the next step in the plan and I didn't know what he meant but it didn't sound good so…I spent one whole day when you thought I was helping plan the Halloween bash calling every damn number on this card until he answered," she touched Sam's face as he stared at her.

"I told him who I was, what I'd heard and I don't know if he believed me or not but when I said I was scared for you that's when he said he come. Sam…did you ever wonder why I wasn't a bit more alarmed at the sight of some strange guy in our apartment that night?" Jessica shook off the mild bitchface Sam was now working up to give her as this all began to sink in. "I didn't know the how or why but I knew you needed to be away from Stanford and your brother came for you."

Sam was now dead certain nothing else he ever learned in his life would knock him on his ass like this one had. "You called Dean?" he stared at her nod, trying to make sense of this. "Why didn't you tell me what you'd heard, Jess?"

"Would you have called your brother? Would you have left if I had told you that I thought Brady was up to something weird and might be planning to hurt you?" Jessica asked him, one fine brow raised like she did when calling his bluff. "No, because Brady was your friend and even if you had believed me you would've tried to handle it on your own and…I loved you, Sam…I wanted to keep you safe."

"What about keeping yourself safe, Jess?" Sam demanded, pushing off the bed while ignoring the pain. "By getting me out you left yourself wide open for him. Why didn't you leave?"

Jessica crossed to him to take his hands and look up into his eyes with a look of calm and sadness. "I had left, Sam. I was going to my parents but…Brady caught up before I was even off campus and…I wish you hadn't come home but I think that was their plan of last resort.

"Brady bragged all about it. He tried to convince me I'd love a demon, that you weren't human but…no, look at me," her one hand lifted his face. "No matter what else, I knew you Sam Winchester and I loved you. You were sweet, funny, loving, innocent and so damn miserable at times that it hurt me to watch you long for a life you wanted and hated but then I realized it wasn't whatever past you'd left you missed but…"

"Dean," Sam murmured thickly, remembering how much he'd missed his brother those four years and even with Jessica he'd never stopped missing Dean or wishing for the courage to pick up the phone once just to call him. "I didn't think you'd picked up on that."

Rolling her eyes, Jessica laughed softly. "We lived together for close to three years, Sam. I could tell that even though he liked school, liked the thought of going into Law School and loved me…I knew deep down none of it really made you happy," she stepped into his arms as they closed around her carefully. "You wouldn't have been happy, Sam. Eventually not even I would've been enough to make you happy."

Sam hadn't wanted to hunt or maybe it had been that he hadn't cared for hunting under his Dad's rules because he hadn't really bitched about it as much when he and Dean hunted together. He thought he'd wanted to go to college and maybe he had but also as he thought more on it now, thought of the classes he took, everything he learned in one way or another helped him and Dean hunt better.

"I loved you so much, Jess," he whispered into her hair, smelling the same perfume and shampoo as he always had when close to her. "I wish you hadn't been dragged into my world or that I'd told you the truth about my life, my family. I'm sorry you…died."

"I died because I helped you to survive, Sam," Jessica kissed him softly. "I never hated you for it. I never blamed you. I was dead long before you stepped foot back into this apartment that night. I'm just glad Dean came back for you again and I'm glad he's waiting for you now," she seemed to be able to hear what Sam could now clearly hear as well as she smiled. "He knows some interesting words, doesn't he?"

Hearing his panicked older brother cursing something that wasn't Sam made the younger Winchester grin. "He didn't pick up school too well but he can curse like a sailor in about four languages and he's all I've got left, Jess," he eyed the apartment that had never felt like home to him. "I thought if given a choice of living with all the pain and crap we do every day to being with you finally it would be an easy choice but…it's not.

"I was ready to give my life if it meant closing Hell for good and maybe giving Dean a chance for normal again but…now all I want is to find the way home. I'm tired but I want to hunt with my brother and I'm not ready to die," Sam's eyes closed as they kissed one final time, a tender kiss between two people that had once been so young and in love. "I won't forget you or what you gave me back then, Jess."

"Go on home, Sam. You've faced the ghosts you needed to face. Now it's time for you to go home to Dean," she brushed a final kiss over his cheek before stepping back. "Love you, Sam Winchester."

This time as Sam's hand opened the door there was no pain, no light or sickening rush in his stomach. There was just cold, an eerie cold that made him shiver deep and pull his jacket tight around him.

Dean's voice was loud as if Sam could just reach out to touch his brother if he could see him but there was no sign on Dean anywhere as he took in the rustic cabin he was no in that reminded him of Rufus's cabin.

He and Dean hadn't been back here since they'd moved into the Men of Letters bunker so at first Sam couldn't understand why he'd be here since the last time he looked he and Rufus hadn't had anything to settle.

Then all of Sam's thoughts went away as he caught sight of the back of the tall, gaunt looking man in a black suit and cane standing near the fireplace.

"Hello, Sam," Death greeted casually as he turned to face the paling hunter. "I've been waiting for you."

A burst of burning agonizing pain shot through Sam's body, taking him to his knees with a scream. He could heard Dean's voice in his head shouting for him, telling him to reach out but yet he was unable to move and with some fear as Death continued to gaze at him calmly Sam understood…he was dying and his brother couldn't save him.

TBC

Author note: I know. I'm fixing this next chapter. No one panic.