AN: So, I'm sad to say that this is the last chapter of this story. It's been amazing writing this and has challenged me to go beyond my comfort zone and write even more. The epilogue will be up soon though so I hope you will enjoy it! Don't forget to review!

This chapter is dedicated to my friend, Misha. It's my birthday present to her as I can't send her anything because we live in different countries. So, happy birthday darling!

A big thank you to my amazing friend, Erin (or if you want to read her fanfics, lookaliveerin). I have her to thank for persistantly coming up with ideas when I have had severe writer's block. Without her, this fic wouldn't have gotten this far.

Disclaimer: You know the drill by now. I don't own the moose, otter, squirrel or hedgehog although I wish to God I did.

Dean took Sam into school the next day and was sure to watch his every move as he headed to his different lessons. He left each of his lessons early to find Sam and escort him to his next lesson before returning to his own. It was soon lunchtime and Sam nervously slipped his hand into Dean's as they walked steadily to the cafeteria. Sam froze when he laid eyes on John and the rest of his attackers. Dean followed Sam's gaze and his eyes widened as a low growl formed in the back of his throat.

"Was it them who did this?" He asked his little brother and gestured at his bruised face.

"Please, Dean," Sam spoke quietly. "Let's just go and get lunch."

Sam felt tears spring in his eyes when he saw Sherlock laughing along with John before sharing a quick kiss. Sherlock looked up and locked eyes with Sam, his mouth dropping open into a small 'o' shape. He stood up and Sam turned away, walking off towards the queue. Sherlock soon caught up with him and put a hand on his shoulder. Sam shrugged it off and lowered his head to hide behind his floppy bangs.

"Sam," Sherlock asked concern evident in his voice. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Sam mumbled and rolled his eyes when Sherlock tilted his chin up to look at him. "Get off!"

"No," Sherlock snapped. "You're obviously hurt and I wanna know why."

"Why do you care?" Sam felt tears fall over his cheeks. "You were probably in on this anyway!"

"Sam, maybe we should go somewhere else." Dean spoke cautiously, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, but Sam ignored him.

"Why would I be in on this?" Sherlock frowned just as John began to walk over.

"Baby, don't let this jerk get you all upset. Let's just go back and eat." John said and slipped his arm around Sherlock's waist.

"I bet you get off on this, don't you?" Sam turned to John. "You just ruin people's relationships. You're using Sherlock!"

"You little punk!" John snarled and balled up his fists. "You know nothing about my relationship with Sherlock!"

Sam breathed harshly and glared at John through his bangs, his nails digging into the palms of his hands. "Fuck you."

"What did you just say to me?" John stepped forward and brought himself to his full height.

Sam swallowed and clenched his jaw as he tried to make himself appear taller. "I said...fuck you." He spoke strongly without his voice wavering.

"That's it," John grabbed the collar of Sam's shirt and punched him before he had time to deflect the blow. Sam fell to the ground and had no time to recover before he was lifted and punched again. He could taste blood on his tongue and tried to fight back. All around him, he could hear a commotion.

Sherlock shouted and tried to pull John away but was also knocked to the floor. Dean quickly ran to Sherlock's aid before he grabbed John and threw him off his brother.

Sam spat blood onto the floor as he got shakily to his feet, ignoring Dean's offered hand to help him. Sherlock stared at Sam and moved forward, lightly touching Sam's bloody lip.

"I'm sorry, Sam." He spoke in a soft, regretful way.

"Maybe you two should talk things out." Dean suggested as he laid a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder.

Sam nodded slowly and headed out of the cafeteria, away from the prying eyes of his peers and the kitchen staff. Sherlock was just about to follow him when Dean grabbed his arm.

"You try anything with him and I will end you." He growled lowly so that no one else could hear him.

Sherlock nodded in understanding and followed Sam out of the room. He soon caught up with him and they walked in silence down to the bleachers which they chose to sit under; Sam sitting opposite Sherlock with his legs crossed.

"I'm sorry," Sherlock sighed. "I didn't want this to happen."
"I heard you the first time," Sam mumbled and picked at the blades of grass on the floor.

"I did love you, Sam," Sherlock's hand came to rest on Sam's knee. "I still do."

"You've got a funny way of showing it." Sam snapped.

"I – I can't make excuses for what I've done," Sherlock looked at the floor. "I hurt you emotionally and that stupid asshole of a boyfriend hurt you physically. I trusted you and I loved you...I cared about you. I was stupid and dumb...I was frightened. I couldn't get into my head the fact that you spend your time hunting the supernatural. That's not something I can comprehend because my world is based on fact and that attack with the demon really shook me up and I was scared that, if I let myself get too attached to you, you could get hurt...or worse. I couldn't live with that so I became a coward. I got back with John because I wanted to make you see that I had moved on. But I never moved on…I never loved John like I loved you."

Sherlock stopped speaking and looked up to focus on Sam's expression. Sam's eyes were looking up at Sherlock with a morbid curiosity. The corners of his mouth twitched into a small smile.

"I guess I forgive you," Sam shrugged. "I'm sorry that I never told you what I did."

"I understand why you didn't," Sherlock took Sam's hand in his. "Do you think there's a chance that we could ever get past this?"

"Can I think about it and let you know tomorrow?" Sam asked.

"Of course," Sherlock answered and pulled Sam into a hug.

They would manage to get past this eventually.

Sam woke the next morning and moaned as his bruises ached. His heart was set on telling Sherlock that he had made up his mind – he wanted to try again.

"Sammy, you up?" Dean's voice came through the door.

"Yeah, Dean." Sam said as he sat up in bed and the door opened.

"Pack your stuff…we're leaving."

Sam's stomach flipped and he felt sick.

"What? Why are we leaving?"

"Dad called and he's enrolled us at some new school in Minnesota. So hurry up so we can leave." Dean grabbed Sam's duffle and dropped it on his bed.

"Dean, what the hell?" Sam snapped. "We're not leaving!"

"Yeah, we are Sam," Dean sighed. "The deal was that we stayed here until dad got a new hunt that was too far away so now we have to go."

"NO!" Sam shouted. "I chose to forgive Sherlock and we were going to try again! I can't leave now!"

"Sam, we had a deal." Dean spoke calmly.

"You don't understand!" Sam yelled and got to his feet. "You get with a different girl at each school we go to! You don't understand what love is!"

Dean's eyes widened at Sam's outbursts. "This is just some pathetic teenage thing you're involved in! It's just a stage! There's billions of other people on this planet, not just Sherlock!"

Sam felt like he had been slapped and took a calming breath. "Get out."

"Sam…"

"Get out!" Sam pushed Dean out of the door and slammed it behind him.

Sam stood with his back against the door, salty tears rolling down his cheeks. His shoulders shook as he sobbed and he went back to get his duffle bag and started to shove the few clothes he had into it. His hands shook as he zipped it up and he sat heavily on his bed. He looked up when he heard the door open and Dean walked in.

"Hey, I'm sorry." Dean apologised and sat next to Sam. "I didn't mean what I said."

"I don't care." Sam shrugged Dean's apology off and pulled his bag over his shoulder before walking out of the room, followed by Dean.

Their father was waiting outside for them and Sam climbed into the back of the car while Dean rode shotgun. Sam stared out of the window as the car pulled away and drove out of the small town. His heart hammered at the realisation that he would never see Sherlock again.

Sherlock sat in his first class, waiting for Sam to walk in the room with his decision. His hands sweated and he bounced his leg. He was both nervous and excited to hear what Sam had to say and he prayed that Sam would choose to forgive him. The bell went and Sherlock began to grow even more nervous. The teacher entered the room and still, there was no sign of Sam. The lesson started and Sherlock began to grow restless as he looked around the classroom.

"Mr Holmes, are you missing something?" Mr Hall questioned.

"No, sir, I…I was just wondering where Sam is. He said he had something for me." Sherlock answered.

"Ah, Mr Winchester." Mr Hall spoke thoughtfully. "Sadly, he won't be returning to school. His father called up this morning and told us that he's got a new job elsewhere and they've had to move on."

Sherlock's heart thundered in his chest. Sam had left…left this school…left this state…left him. The sudden realisation that he would never see his best friend again hit him and he felt nauseous. He got to his feet and ran out of the classroom and out of the door of the school. He looked down the road just in time to see a black, muscle car drive off around the corner and he sank to his knees.

Sam stared at his former school as his father drove past. He kneeled and looked out of the back window as it grew farther and farther away from him. He could have sworn that his saw a boy run out of the building with dark, curly hair. That boy with the most amazing eyes that Sam had ever seen.

Obviously, I'm not gonna just leave it there! I'm not that cruel! The epilogue will be here soon so leave a review and I'll get it up faster. Thanks to all you guys for sticking with me throughout!