THE STAGES OF GRIEF

Summary: Sam had someone to help him through the loss of Dean, someone who too had just lost a brother - Dean Winchester.

Notes: This story is in five parts, and takes place in the SPN world during season 3.

Stage V - Acceptance
(a.k.a. It Is What It Is)

Bobby was giving the emergency dispatcher the location of the warehouse when he noticed Dean straighten. It was so abrupt that he ignored the voice on the other end and called out, 'Dean?'

'He's... He's dead.'

Dean rose to his feet, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Bobby hung up the phone and watched Dean carefully. His back was turned, but Bobby could still tell that he was trying to process it. Bobby knew this wasn't the Dean he'd known over the years, the one he had a soft spot for and had taken in as his own, but he was still Dean Winchester, and that had to count for something. Bobby had watched him interact with Sam, and though there were a few differences – most due to fact he obviously wasn't as close with his brother as was the case in this reality – he was still Dean. He still had the same cocky smile and the same dedication to his work. Bobby even noticed that he even displayed the same protective, brotherly bond, even though it was with... Stanson(?) instead of Sam. They were, more or less, the same person.

Except that now he wasn't. Dean had just given up and declared his brother dead. While Bobby could concede that this Dean wouldn't know about crossroads, he clearly knew how to give CPR, and would have to be aware of the obligation to continue it until an ambulance arrived, heartbeat or no heartbeat. But this Dean had just accepted the idea and all but surrendered. Bobby couldn't help the surfacing impression that Dean wanted Sam to be dead. Was that what this was? Did this Dean just want it all over and done with so he could return home, obligation-free?

Of course not. It was just an errant thought that sprung up before he could quash it. Still, there was something going on, and Bobby had his answer when he saw Sam's hand spasm. Slowly, Bobby's hand went to his flask, cursing that he left his shotgun in the car.

Whether he saw or sensed that something had changed, Dean turned around and fixed Bobby with a cold smirk. 'Not buying it, huh? Tell you what, if you get that flask open before I pull Deano's gun out from behind his back and shoot you, I will officially acknowledge that you are the coolest hunter I've ever killed. How does that sound?'

They stood at an impasse. Bobby all-to-aware of Sam's urgency, and the demon quite comfortable to waste that time secure in the knowledge that Bobby wouldn't be the faster draw.

But Robert Singer wasn't a hunter for nothing, and he sure as hell wasn't born yesterday. He grabbed his flask and shouted, 'Christo.' The second's distraction was enough for Bobby to get the lid off and toss holy water on Dean, who flinched away from the scalding liquid.

'Bobby Singer, you sly son of a bitch!' The demon ducked out of the way of the water and was chuckling. 'I must say this brings back memories. All we need is a chair, some ropes, your ceiling and this could very-well be it. What do you say, third time lucky?'

'Meg,' Bobby bit the word out, tossing a little holy water for emphasis.

Meg sidestepped the spray and held up a finger in warning. 'Ah ah ah, don't damage the merchandise. I got plans for this one.'

Bobby didn't have time to process that statement, but he did gather that it had something to do with whatever reality Dean came from, which could only end badly. 'Exorciz-'

Meg made a fist, and Bobby felt his throat close up. 'Fool me once, Bobby. Anyway, I don't want you dead, not just yet. I'm thinking of going through the ole looking glass, getting your double, and then bringing him back here so you can watch me slice him up like a pizza.' Megs' eyes lit up as an idea occurred to him. 'Maybe he has a wife – maybe he has kids. Ooh, won't that be interesting? I'm getting tingles just thinking about it.'

Whatever came next was drowned out by the pressure in Bobbys' ears. The air loss was already causing his vision to blot, and he knew it wasn't long now before he...

.-.-.

Jack eyed Teal'c's purchase with a frown.

'Is something wrong, O'Neill?'

'No, no,' He turned back to his choc-mint. 'Just didn't figure you for a bubblegum kind of guy, is all.'

Teal'c inspected his ice cream. 'It is not often one gets to try a food in the colour of blue.'

'What about that blueberry pie we had the other day?'

'I believe they are purple.'

'Really? Purple?' A drop of his neglected ice cream fell onto his hand. Jack licked it off.

'Indeed.'

'Hunh.'

They each tasted their choices, savouring the flavour.

'How does it measure up?'

'I find it most satisfactory.'

'That's good.' Jack slipped his cone out of the paper cover, munching into the waffley-goodness. He shoved his bite to the side of his mouth, so he could both chew and talk at the same time. 'Hey Teal'c, let me ask you something.' He paused to swallow. 'Does that look like Sam Winchester to you?'

Teal'c looked across the street, where a tall, haggard man was limping. 'He does seem to resemble the photo supplied in the briefing.' Teal'c agreed.

'That's good enough for me – Hey, Sam!' Jack jogged across the street, Teal'c following at a slower pace, as he still had much of his ice cream to finish.

Sam stopped and eyed them suspiciously.

Jack dusted the crumbs off his hands before raising them in a non-threatening manner. Teal'c, still licking his ice cream, did not look threatening at all. Which was possibly a first.

'We're friends of Dean. Your brother from another...' Should he change it, or keep to the original? '...Mother. In a way.'

Sam still seemed dubious, so Jack pulled out his military credentials. When that didn't seem to sway him, Jack laid it out as simple as he could. 'Look, either we're who we say we are, or we're from this reality, in which case we'd be arresting you, considering you're a fugitive.'

'Or you're a shapeshifter,' Sam replied.

Jack's mouth gaped a little as he took that in. He turned to Teal'c. 'Teal'c, are you a shapeshifter?'

'I don't believe so.'

'Right. Well, I'm not a shapeshifter, and he's not a shapeshifter.' Beat. 'Though if I was a shapeshifter I guess I'd say that anyway.' He waved it off. 'But I'm sure you guys have some sort of test for that, right?'

Sam looked between the two. 'You got a flashlight?'

Jack searched his pockets whilst Teal'c retrieved one. Jack ended up passing that over. Sam clicked it on and directed it in their eyes. Teal'c merely blinked, Jack on the other hand raised a hand and cursed.

'For crying out loud, what was that for?'

Sam clicked off the flashlight and handed it back. 'You're not a shapeshifter.'

'No, but I am blind. You do know those are designed for long-range?'

Sam waited as Jack rubbed his eyes and blinked away the spots. 'Do you know where Dean is?'

'Yeah, he took off after Robby after you rang him.'

Sam frowned. 'I never rang Dean.'

'Not Dean, the other one, Robby.'

'I believe his name was Bobby.'

Jack turned to Teal'c, 'You sure?'

Teal'c nodded.

'I never rang Bobby either. I don't have a cell.' Sam suddenly realised what was going on. 'Do you have a car?'

'Yeah, why?'

'We've got to get back to the warehouse.'

Jack took Sam's expression at face value. 'Then let's move out. T, you can finish that in the car.'

.-.-.

When Jack, Sam and Teal'c arrived at the warehouse it was Bobby who was lying unmoving on the ground. They piled out of the car, Jack and Teal'c checking the perimeter while Sam approached Dean, who was trying to rouse Bobby.

Dean pulled a gun on Sam before he realised who it was. Slowly he clicked the safety back on and turned back to Bobby. 'He's alive. Out cold though.'

'Let's get him to the car.' Sam reached for Bobby's feet as Dean picked up his shoulders. 'What happened to your shirt?'

Dean seemed surprised at the question, and had to look down to confirm that his shirt wasn't actually there. He looked around for it, and Sam eventually spotted it in a puddle of blood and the oh-so tantalising mixture of a shifter's skin.

He arrived at the logical conclusion. 'Let me guess, it was me?'

Dean nodded. 'And dying. Bobby saw through it though.' Before Sam could ask, Dean went on to say, 'It's back to me again, and it's headed for the SGC.'

'What's headed for the SGC?' Jack appeared at the other side of the car, pocketing his gun and flashlight.

'Demon.' Sam replied. 'In the body of a shapeshifter.'

'I'm guessing that's bad?'

Dean lowered Bobby's head into the back seat of his car. 'It's like a double no-no.'

'Wouldn't that be no-no-no-no?'

'No.' Dean replied. 'Anyway, you better call it in, the sucker got my phone.'

'Was it in your shirt pocket?' Jack flipped open his phone. 'Carter? It's me.'

The voice on the other end seemed hesitant. 'Sir...'

'Don't let Winchester back through the mirror, apparently he's a shapeshifting demon or something like that.'

There was a pause. 'How can we be sure you're you, sir?'

'Because I am me.' Jack automatically replied.

'Colonel Winchester called in half an hour ago, and said the same thing about you.'

'Well, in that case don't let any of us back through the mirror, We'll be back there A-sap to sort this out.' Sam looked like he wanted to say something, so Jack held a hand over the speaker.

'There's a devil's trap in the locker.'

'A what?'

Sam held up his hands in a circle. 'It's a pentagram with some runes in it.'

Dean nodded. 'It was in the entry-way.'

'Tell them to try and manoeuvre Dean into it, it won't be able to get out.'

Jack relayed the message to Carter, and Sam had to reiterate that they actually had to trap Meg ('That's its name') in it, because no demon would knowingly walk into one. Dean went on to say that Meg was also aware that it was there, having his memories at hand.

'Did you get all that?' Jack asked after they finished.

'Yes sir.' Carter replied.

'And move the curse boxes back to the SGC, until the threat has passed.' Dean added.

Sam looked at him. 'I hadn't thought of that.'

Dean shrugged and waited for Jack to hang up. 'We better haul ass back to the mirror. It's already got at least half an hour on us.'

'Would it not be more prudent to fly?' Teal'c suggested.

Dean flinched at the idea, and Sam couldn't help the twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Jack seemed to consider the idea, and Dean was quick to rebuke it. 'Meg's taken the Impala, which means she's driving.'

'She?' Jack echoed.

'He, me – whatever. Point is, he wouldn't be going too fast to risk getting the cops on her tail, they could set up a road block and try and slow her – him, whatever – down.'

'Good idea. You two follow him, and we'll see about some wings and possible road spikes.'

Sam waited for Dean to shoot down the idea of causing possible harm to the Impala, but it never came. Instead he nodded and hopped into the driver's seat. 'Come on, Sam.'

Jack and Teal'c were already sprinting back to their rental as Sam slid into the passenger side.

Dean gunned the engine and they were on the I-90 before Sam knew it.

.-.-.

Despite the intention of driving nine hours straight –seven-and-a-half, Dean insisted he could make it in – to Black Rock, they had to make at least one stop for fuel. They also used the opportunity to go to the bathroom and grab some food.

When Sam returned to the car, Dean noted that Bobby still hadn't woken and suggested he might be concussed. Sam agreed that if he hadn't woken by the time they got to Cleveland, that they would leave him at the hospital.

When the twenty minutes passed and they rolled into the city limits, Sam scribbled a note for Bobby, before leaving him at the emergency entrance with one of their fake credit cards.

They hit the road again, and thanks to Sam's surprising knowledge of shortcuts, they managed to skim more time off their trip, before they caught up to Impala.

It was parked in the edge of the road, dangerously close to swerving off. The shredded tyres that littered the highway alerted them to the presence of the road spikes, indicating that Jack had actually followed through with his suggestion.

They drove off the road around the spikes, and pulled up next to the Impala. There was no one in it, though from this angle they could make out the body of a police officer on the ground. Apparently the plan wasn't as successful as they had hoped. Sam instructed Dean to keep driving while he rang an ambulance for the officer, and a tow truck for the Impala, who was more than happy to drop it off at Singer Auto Salvage when he realised how much money he would be getting for the interstate trip.

The rest of the trip wasn't as eventful, with Dean only pumping the gas that little bit more to compensate for the fact that their car didn't have a licence to speed.

.-.-.

They were the last ones to arrive at Black Rock Storage, and rushed into the locker to find the mirror shut off, and the entire group circled around Meg, who was currently stuck in the devil's trap.

His eyes lit up when he spotted them. 'It's about time you got here, these poor guys are at their wits end.'

'We tried that exorcism Robby – Bobby – gave us,' Jack explained its effect with a shrug. 'Hell, even Daniel tried it, and if anyone's going to know Latin, it's going to be him.'

Daniel stepped forward. 'I'm Daniel Jackson,' he introduced himself to Sam, 'aside from the obvious flaw of mere words being able to dispel a cognisant entity, I couldn't find anything wrong with the exorcism Jack used.'

Sam sighed and turned to Meg. 'A lock?'

Meg just raised his shirt to reveal a Q burnt into Dean's skin, just under his ribcage. 'Don't worry though, I'm going to remove it in a minute.' She pulled out a gun, which saw SG-1 drawing theirs in response. What they didn't count on was Meg pointing it at the himself. 'Let your friends exorcise me, Sam. And you get to watch your brother die all over again.'

'You're not my brother.'

Meg smiled knowingly. 'No, but at the moment I'm a lot closer than some people in this room.'

Sams' eyes shot to Dean, and Sam couldn't believe he didn't notice it himself. The bloodstains on his pant-leg coincided where Sam himself had been shot, and the skin at the warehouse finally fit together. The shifter was telling the truth, it just neglected the mention that it was him. Sam drew his gun. It would also explain why he called Meg a girl, despite the fact all her current hosts have been male.

Jack seemed to clue in what was happening as well, and pulled out his flashlight. The shifter flinched, and his eyes flashed before he could get his hands up. 'Aha!' Jack cried, happy to see it work.

'Did you hurt Bobby?' Sam asked, flicking the safety off.

'No,' The shifter insisted, and Sam almost believed him before he realised his mistake.

'Of course he did, and he loved it...' Meg sing-songed.

The shifter shook its head, but Sam wasn't buying it. 'Why are you here?'

'I...' In that second, he looked so honestly vulnerable that Sam forgot he was looking at a monster. It was gone in a blink though. 'Bitch jacked my body, I'm here for the payback.'

'Sure you are.' Meg winked, and then addressed Sam. 'Does this seem like a viable threat now? Or should we get Carter to go back and get Deano's birth certificate?'

'You're not my brother,' Sam repeated, 'My brother's dead.'

He'd said it as a bluff, but the words seemed to resonate home with a truth that had been missing before. Dean was dead. Dead. Gone. Sam finally seemed to accept that.

'I don't mean to pun, but aren't you jumping the gun a little there?' Meg said, and pulled the trigger before anyone could get a word in. The bullet broke the lock as promised, and tore through Dean's liver in the process. Black smoke billowed out and was gone before his body hit the ground.

Stage V/A – Reacting/Resolve

Sam was at his side before his head hit the floor, one hand pressed to his stomach. Carter was next to him in an instant with a bandage and Jack was ordering Daniel to get the mirror working. Teal'c had subdued the shapeshifter against a wall, and was restraining his arms with some rope he'd found on one of the shelves.

'I've got it!' Daniel said, and switched over to update the SGC on what was going on. There was some talking on radios on their end, and by the time Jack and Sam had gotten Dean to the mirror, they were already pushing a gurney into the room.

'Get him on the table,' the doctor ordered, and Jack and Sam complied. After that, they could only watch as he was wheeled down to the operating theatre.

'He'll be fine,' Jack reassured Sam.

Even though he didn't believe him, Sam nodded in response.

'Oh, and welcome to Stargate Command.'

.-.-.

'We've managed to get him stable.'

The doctor had met them in the mess hall, where Jack had suggested Sam wait while he debriefed Hammond on the events thus far. Teal'c was his minder as he technically wasn't allowed on base.

'...But the damage to his liver is irreparable. Without a transplant he's going to die.'

'I'll do it,' Sam didn't even have to think.

'Are you sure?' At the look on Sam's face, the doctor continued, 'I'm obligated to inform you of the risks involved in such a procedure, but before we start, is there anyone you want to contact and let them know?'

Bobby. He should be awake by now. Sam nodded.

'It'll take a few hours to get everything set up, come to the ward when you're ready.' And with that the doctor left, and Sam got the impression that the doctor didn't know that he was really in inter-relatial traveller here on probation.

Sam turned to Teal'c, who also rose from his seat. 'We should locate Colonel O'Neill.'

.-.-.

As Sam was heading back to the mirror, he tried to remember what had become of his phone. Ultimately he recalled Jack saying that Meg had taken it, and had to do an about-face back to the ward to get it from Dean's pocket. When he found it wasn't there, realised that it would have to be with the shapeshifter, as he was the one that was impersonating Sam.

He told Carter – his current minder – and they set off towards the cells. There was a soldier stationed at the door, and Carter agreed to wait outside while Sam went in to talk.

He was sitting cross-legged on the bed, still with no shirt, when Sam entered. He looked up at Sam and waited.

'Where's my phone?'

The shifter frowned at the question before something occurred to him and he checked his pockets. He pulled out Sam's phone. 'Don't you think it's out of range?' He joked, tossing it over.

Sam's arm reached through the bars to catch it before it collided with the metal. He slipped it through the bars and headed for the door. Just as he was about to open it, a question formed. 'Why are you here?'

'Teal'c's one scary mo'fo?' The shifter raised his eyebrows.

'No, I mean, why haven't you escaped? It would have been easy for you to slip through the bars and into the vent,' Sam gestured to said vent next to his foot. 'So why haven't you?'

'One, vents are gross. Seriously, no one ever cleans them.' He nodded for emphasis.

'And two?'

He shifted uncomfortably. 'I wanted to know if he was okay.'

'Who?'

The shifter waved his hand in 'ta-da'.

'Why would you care about Dean?'

'I don't expect you to understand.' The shifter brushed it off.

'Tell me.'

The shifter was content to ignore him. That is, until he saw the resolve on Sam's face. He sighed. 'He's someone... He's someone I wouldn't mind being, you know?'

This was the second time a shapeshifter had confessed that Dean was some soulmate. Given their inherent nature, Sam didn't like the implication. He folded his arms. 'No, I don't know. I don't go around stealing peoples' lives.'

'That's not... Didn't you ever have someone you looked up to?'

Sam couldn't answer that, because he did. And it was the same person the shifter was alluding to.

However the shifter managed to figure it out by his silence. 'See, you know where I'm coming from. I just wanted to know if he was okay.'

Sam paused. What if the shifter was telling the truth? Given his recent actions, and the fact that he hadn't escaped, Sam was starting to think that maybe the shifter did, on some level, care about Dean. Maybe the whole kindred soul thing didn't have anything to do with Dean's buried emotional issues, but the fact he was just Dean. Sam considered the person before him anew. 'He's dying.'

The shifter was on his feet. 'What does he need? Heart, kidneys – what?'

'Liver,' Sam said.

'So take mine. I'm fairly certain it's a match.' He smiled sardonically.

Sam was about to ask why again when he realised he already knew, he just had a hard time believing it. 'Are you sure about this?' The doctors' words echoed out of his mouth.

The shifter chuckled. 'It's just a liver, I'm not going to miss it.'

'You're probably the only person who could say that,' Sam muttered as he turned to go. The shifter heard him and snorted, lounging back on the cot.

'Would that even work?' Carter asked after Sam relayed the conversation to her outside the room.

'It should. Like he said, at the moment they're identical.'

'What about side-effects?'

'I don't think so,' Sam answered. 'The only way to kill a shifter is with a silver bullet to the heart, which kind of implies that their ability to change is derived from the heart. They grow new sets of teeth when they slip a skin, so it would stand to reason that their internal organs would also change to accommodate the body they're doubling.'

'What about the donor?' Sam could tell she had a hard time saying shapeshifter. 'Would he survive?'

'He could probably regenerate his entire body as long as the heart wasn't damaged.' Sam conceded. 'I also don't think he'd offer to do this unless he was going to live. Survival instincts are kind of the reason they exist.'

'Adapting to their environment.' Carter reasoned. She shrugged. 'Well, if you're sure and he consents, I don't see any reason why we can't do the transplant. I'll just run it by General Hammond.'

Carter jogged off to do just that, and Sam remembered that he still had his phone in his hand. The guard at the door didn't seem worried that Sam didn't have anyone to escort him, and he took that as a sign. He headed off towards the mirror to call Bobby, all the while thinking of how he wasn't one hundred percent certain that giving Dean an organ from a shapeshifter wouldn't have any side-effects.

.-.-.

'You WHAT?! Sam, did you take a sudden leave of your senses?!'

Yep, Bobby was once again conscious. He also wasn't very impressed with Sam's decision. Which wasn't fair, because,

'It's not my decision, Bobby.'

'And you're just going to let your brother go off and get some shifter parts put in him?'

'He's not my brother, Bobby. He can make his own decisions.'

'Near enough.' Bobby replied, but still quietened at Sam's admission.

Sam offered a false smile to Stanson, who was watching through the mirror. Apparently he did still need that escort, as he found out when he got to the mirror. Stanson offered to come, having been in the ward with Dean when the news of his possible survival arrived, and wanted to ask Sam about some of the finer points of it. They talked, and Sam realised he could no longer resent the man who had nothing but concern for Dean. Paul then admitted that Dean wanted to go ahead with it, but agreed to wait for Sam to finish his call before relaying what he'd learned to Dean.

'How are you, Bobby?'

'Fine, or I will be when I can get out of this damn bed.'

Sam smiled, picturing Bobby in a hospital room. He suspected that his main cause for the cantankerous behaviour was the fact he was stuck in one of those gowns. Why they made people wear them was anyone's guess.

'You let me know how it goes.'

It wasn't a question, but Sam answered anyway, 'I will. Talk to you later.'

Sam hung up and switched back to Stargate Command to go see Dean.

.-.-.

'Prom date?'

'Jennifer Walker.'

'Lucy Miller. And, uhh... Rachel Knave.' Dean looked sheepish, and Sam looked at him suspiciously.

'Was that my date?'

'What? No. Don't be ridiculous.'

'How could you?'

'I did...' Dean drifted off. 'How did you know?'

Sam thought of explaining how his brother had a djinn-induced hallucination that suggested it would be something he'd do. Instead he said, 'You're an open book. A picture book. For kids.'

'I'll have you know I clean up at poker night. Ask Paul.'

'Don't bring me into this.'

Dean threw his jello cup at Stanson. 'Stop reading, dude. Only robots process that much information.'

'Bite me.'

'Nuh-uh, I'm not explaining that to your sister again.'

Sam watched the byplay with a smirk. There was no jealousy, just a slight wist for the rapport that he shared with his own brother. The conversation was helping. They'd been comparing pasts (generically, Sam kept the gloom of their life to himself) and all Sam heard were differences, and he found he was okay with that.

'Winchester.'

'Yes.' Dean sat a little straighter in his bed, looking at the doctor expectantly. The operation had been over six hours ago, and already the shifter was up and walking around (back in his cell). Despite the doctor's assertions, Dean also claimed that he was fine, and ready to leave the ward.

'We've checked your results, and it seems you're perfectly healthy.'

'I'm sorry to hear that.' Dean threw off the covers and swung his leg over the bed.

'This rate of recovery is unprecedented, for normal circumstances.' The doctor amended, conceding the rapid recoveries of symbiotes, and other mystical recoveries they'd encountered in the past.

'Tell you what, anything weird starts happening and I'll be straight back here,' Dean promised, kicking Stanson out of his chair. 'Let's go.'

He got as far as the end of the bed when the doctor held his arm. 'Anything.'

Dean saluted him and, with a smile, jogged out of the ward. Stanson turned to Sam.

'Coming? He'll be in the mess hall. There's pie on Wednesdays.'

Sam snorted and followed Stanson out.

Stage V/B - The Last Goodbye

'You know, you could stay if you wanted.'

'So could you.'

'No thanks. I can't even figure out why you do it.'

'Someone's got to.'

'Then it sucks to be you.'

'What about you, why do you serve?'

'They let me blow stuff up.'

Sam rolled his eyes.

'I think they're done filching all the alien tech from your curse boxes...' Dean still had trouble taking it seriously, despite all he'd experienced in the last week.

'Alien tech?'

'Sorry, did I say alien tech? I meant classified tech.'

Sam that piece of knowledge away for later. 'I'll meet you up there. There's one stop I have to make.'

Dean seemed to know where he was going. 'Without an escort? They won't let you in.'

'I think you just want to follow me around.'

Dean smirked as they turned the corner. 'La, lah lah lah laaaa...'

'Please stop.'

'Close to you...'

'I'll pay you.'

.-.-.

'I just wanted to say thanks, for what you did.' Sams' hands were in his pockets, because he didn't quite know what to do with them.

The shifter was leaning through the bars on his arms. 'No problem.' He glanced at the door. 'He outside?'

'Yeah. How did you know?'

He shrugged.

Sam looked around the cell. 'So, what's going to happen to you?'

'They're deciding what to do with me.'

'I could get you sent back to our world, if you want.' It really was the least he could do.

The shifter shook his head. 'Nah, I think I like it here better.'

'Okay.' That was all Sam had to say, so he turned to the door.

'Sam?'

He looked over at the shifter, who was suddenly serious. 'Our 'verse, I don't know if it's the same here, but... You shouldn't forget about your brother. You shouldn't start thinking he's here when he's not. It'd be kinda... disrespectful or something. I dunno.' He shrugged it off and returned to his cot.

Sam had no illusions of calling the Dean Winchester of this universe his brother – though he could very well be, given the chance – because he didn't want to supersede the memory of the brother he had, as the shifter suggested. What he had forgotten was where his brother currently was. And he felt like a terrible person because of it.

'Thanks.' Sam said.

'You already said that.'

'Not for that,' Sam replied, and left.

.-.-.

'So...' Jack started, swinging his arms together in an effort to deflect any manner of awkward conversation.

'O'Neill, were you not going to offer a suggestion to Sam Winchester?' Teal'c prompted.

'Right, thanks T.' He turned back to the younger Winchester. 'So, if this – well, not this obviously – but if you encounter any stuff that seems a little...'

'Otherworldly?' Daniel supplied.

Jack clicked his fingers. 'Yep, but literally.' He paused, rethinking the sentence. 'Otherplanetary... Look, if you come across slugs or guys who want to enslave mankind with flashing eyes-'

At this point Sam was thinking of demons, but wisely remained silent. Dean caught the look on his face though, and managed to come to the same conclusion. He covered his face behind his hand.

'And seemingly indestructible powers... what?'

'Nothing, sir,' Carter replied, casting an innocent glance towards the ceiling. 'Go on.'

'Right... where was I?'

'I believe you were speaking needlessly, O'Neill.'

Jack raised a finger as though his next words were going to contradict that statement. 'No. No, I was telling Sam that if he ran into anything weird, our kind of weird, he should contact the SGC in this reality.'

Sam smiled. 'I'll be sure and do that.'

'Good, good.' Jack turned to Carter. 'Is our number still the same...?'

'I'm sure I can figure it out.' Sam answered.

'Good. Well, it was, uh, definitely an experience meeting you.' He held out his hand which Sam shook.

When they parted, Carter did likewise and Teal'c clasped his hand in that manly warrior way he did that Jack felt made him look hardcore. They then turned to the remaining member of the group.

'Right, so we'll be...' Jack pointed to the mirror.

Letting Carter and Teal'c take the lead, Jack clapped Dean's shoulder on his way past. The gesture indicating that he'd let Dean have a few moments to say goodbye personally. Out loud he said, 'You're filing the report on this one, Winchester.'

Not really in a position to say no, Dean merely rolled his eyes. 'One lecture.'

Jack looked ready to argue, but then paused to consider the options. In the end he nodded and crossed through the mirror.

With Jack gone, the awkward silence finally descended. Neither brother looked each other in the face; a vain effort to prolong the inevitable.

Dean was the one that broke it in the end. 'If there is one good thing about sudden deaths, it avoids chick-flick moments.'

Sam laughed. After the past few days they knew the truth in that all too well. 'Dean, I-'

Dean held up a hand to stop him. He had a strange look on his face. 'I'm sorry, Sam.'

The dull pulse in his leg reminded him as to why. 'Hey, don't worry about it. Hazard of the job.'

'No, I'm sorry we don't get along in my 'verse.' He said. 'I wish to hell I could fix it, but...' His eyes flickered down, unable to look at his brother any longer.

It was at this point that Sam realised that this was what he was apologising for back when he'd accidentally shot him. And even though this Dean was different to the one he knew – and Sam could already tell he was a hell of a lot closer now than when he'd first stepped through the mirror – it must really be eating away at him not to have the relationship with his Sam that he and Dean shared. Used to share.

The words seemed a little moot to say when it was clearly too late, but if Alterna-Dean apologised to him because he thought it would matter, then there was something he had to say as well.

'Hey Dean?' He waited until Dean looked up. 'I'm sorry I couldn't save you.'

Dean looked confused for a second before it clicked. 'Hey, it's okay. You tried, it's enough.'

Sam frowned. 'How do you know I tried?'

'Because,' Dean smiled. 'You're my brother.'

There were no words to say to that, so Sam pulled him into a hug (in a purely manly way, Dean would insist to the guys watching on the other side of the mirror). After what seemed much longer than it was, they finally parted. Dean nodded, and Sam replied in turn. An unspoken agreement not to say goodbye, but to convey everything the word represented. Dean turned and left.

When he got to the mirror he paused and faced Sam one final time. Sam could see the water in his eyes, but didn't say anything because he was sure he looked the same.

'Take care, Sammy.'

He reached out and touched the mirror.

.-.-.

Aside from the items Stargate Command had assured them weren't cursed objects, Bobby had managed to relocate all of John's toxic waste to a more secure – or terminating – location. It wasn't easy, but over the month and a half since the ordeal with the mirror he'd taken care of it. Only two remained; one that needed a solstice for the cleansing ritual to take effect, and the other...

'For God's sake Sam, quit staring at that thing, will ya?'

'I'm not, I'm just...'

Bobby softened. 'Son, he ain't coming back. It ain't his world. 'Sides, he's got his own brother.'

'He's dead. The other me.'

'Still his brother.'

It was a heavy statement, and Sam felt the weight of each of those words. 'Yeah...

'Yeah,' He echoed again, having finally reached a conclusion. 'Bobby, you think that-'

'Take as long as you want.'

'Thanks Bobby.'

The kid was smiling like he was about to cry. Bobby couldn't have that. If Sam cried, then there was a chance that Bobby would cry. And Robert Singer wasn't about to sit around crying like a little girl. 'Well, go on then.'

Sam chuckled and stood up. He slung his duffel over his shoulder and glanced around the room to make sure he didn't forget anything. 'I'll keep in touch.'

'Ya damn right you'll keep in touch. You Winchesters can only walk so far before you step in some serious shit.'

'That's some pretty interesting imagery there, Bobby.'

Bobby levelled him a look. 'Don't you have someplace to be?'

'Yeah, I do.' Sam gave Bobby a quick hug before leaving Singer Auto Salvage, and the state of South Dakota.

.-.-.

'So, uhh, you're dead... You're dead and I'm standing here talking to a piece of stone with your name on it.' Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. 'This is ridiculous.'

He looked up at the clear blue sky. Not a cloud in sight to distract him. The cemetery was as well-maintained and peaceful, and Dean felt out of place standing there in the middle of the day in his shirt and jeans. He felt like he should be wearing a suit, or at least his dress uniform.

'Scew it.' He glanced back at the tombstone. 'Look, you and me, we never really got on. Mainly because I thought you were an annoying know-it-all brat but, uhh, you turned out alright.

'Well, not you you, but another you. You were still a pansy... and I got no idea what I'm saying.'

He threw his hands up and shook his head. Thank God no one else was around to witness this.

'The other Sam, he turned out to be an alright guy, and I guess what I'm saying is that I never really talked to you after you went to college, so for all I know that could have been you too, I guess. And even if you weren't - if you were still the smarmy Joe College-type - that's okay too, 'cos underneath it all you probably still would have been That Sam.' He shrugged. 'I guess I'm sorry I never got the chance to know for sure.'

He absently thumbed some dust off his nose, because that's what men do when they're not crying. And not trying to clear their nasal airway from all the build-up that accumulates when they're busy not crying.

Dean looked down at the grave of his brother Sam Winchester, 1983-2005, Loving Husband, Beloved Son, and finally took it all in.

When he was ready to leave, he gave the marker a gentle fist-bump, as though they had been brothers all those years, and not two strangers who lived under the same house.

'See ya, Sammy.'

.-.-.

'Hey, I know you can't hear me, but what the Hell.

'I'm sorry, Dean. Sorry I couldn't save you, couldn't find a way out of your deal. I'm sorry I let you die on my watch.

'More importantly, I'm sorry I Iet you stay dead. I know when I died you didn't hesitate to try and bring me back, and that's what I'm gonna do - whatever it takes. And you can bitch and moan about it all you like, but I'm okay with that. Besides,' He smiled, 'I owe you.'

Sam appraised the unassuming cross that marked Dean's final current resting place. 'See you soon, Dean.'

Stage V/C Moving On
(a.k.a. Epilogue)

'Colonel, are you sure you want to do this? I understand that you may be experiencing a rough time recently, with the situation involving your brother.'

Dean rolled his eyes. 'That was over a year ago.'

'Really?' Jack raised his eyebrows. 'It doesn't seem that long ago.'

Dean shook his head. Despite the star on his uniform, General Jack O'Neill was still the same at heart.

'In all seriousness though,' Jack kicked his legs under the chair to slide it closer to the desk. He leaned his elbows on the surface and fixed Dean with a concerned look. 'This is pretty much a one-way trip. You sure you want to do this?'

'Get to kick ass in a whole new galaxy?' He made a face. 'Nah, I can't see the appeal in that at all. Unless there's a promotion involved.'

Jack smiled. 'We promote you and I don't think they'll let you leave Earth.'

Dean frowned, and opened his mouth to speak. Jack beat him to it,

'Well, that's settled. I imagine Colonel Sumner will be pleased to hear you're on board.'

'Marshall requested me?' A gruelling and gruesome four-hour boxing match sprang to mind. 'The lengths that man will go to get a case of beer...'

Jack leaned back on his chair and threw his arms behind his head. 'Personally I'd stow it in with the supplies, you never know whether you'll get the chance to have another.'

'I'll keep that in mind.'

'Well...' Jack stretched and stood. Dean did likewise. 'I think that about covers it. You want to pass on the message to your team for me?'

'Are you foisting off your duties onto me?'

Jack waggled a finger. 'I'm a General, it's called delegating.'

'You used to be cool.'

'I still am.' Jack asserted. 'Now, mush. Some of us have work to do.'

Jack sat back down in a way that left Dean with no reservations as to which one of them it was.

.-.-.

When he left the meeting, he found Major Stanson waiting in the corridor. They fell into step as he turned the corner.

'So, are you taking the mission?'

'Yep.'

'Hmm. Well, I'll be sure to send along a fruit basket. It won't be the same without you here.'

'You're coming with.'

'What? No I'm not.'

'Yeah you are.'

'With all due respect, I can't. I'm allergic to other galaxies, and, uhh... you.'

Dean stopped and looked at him.

'Achoo?'

Dean raised an eyebrow.

'Sanders,' Stanson muttered just loud enough for Dean to hear before he resumed walking.

Winchester let out a bark of laughter and followed. 'You'd be lost without me, bitch.'

When Stanson replied Dean forgot for a second that he joking with his best friend, and instead imagined that Sam was there, smiling in a fleeting moment of sibling camaraderie. The thought gave him pause for a moment, but it soon passed as he smiled at Stanson's rejoinder. He wasn't Sam, but he was family all the same. In that instant Dean could catalogue all Paul and Sams' similarities and differences and just be happy that in the end, he was able to call them both brother.

End.

Random facts that you might be interested to know:

AlternaSam and Jess weren't actually married at the time of his death. But she loved him, and wanted to make sure there was something a little more than 'Loving fiancé' on his gravestone. Unfortunately her and Mary+John's combined efforts couldn't come up with something more imaginative like, 'She saved the world... A lot.'

The SGC offered the shapeshifter a position, and Dean had a talk with him over the use of his face (I have written).

After some needless run-around, Jack managed to find the SGC in the SPN 'verse, hence the road spikes and the fact he and Teal'c beat Sam to the mirror (also written). He did this under the proviso that he would explain everything after the crisis, which he did... only to his SGC. SPN's SGC has no idea that Sam has a Quantum Mirror.

The liver transplant did affect Dean (other than the rapid healing), though the symptoms took a while to emerge.

Someone pointed out that Dean was too young to be a Colonel, which is technically true. There is an explanation for this, which an excerpt of the sequel mentioned below;

I'm considering a 'verse for AlternaDean in the Pegasus Galaxy. Though Sam isn't in it, it will have Sheppard, Stanson, and a slight deviation on events due to Dean's presence.

I'm also considering a sequel for this, in which AlternaDean reappears after Dean has been brought back from Hell. Snippets from both this and the aforementioned story, are posted in the next chapter. They won't be uploaded until they're complete though (to ensure regular uploads), and finally;

This story was intended to explore on the stages of grief (hence the title), through both Sam and Dean's different reactions to loss. It was my intention from the start to have Sam finally come to terms with Dean's death, in order to resolve to do something about it. In my mind Sam's story now slips back into canon, with him meeting up with Ruby in time for the beginning of season 4, which is why there's no epilogue for him (we know what he did). Remember, all this took place in the span of a week (despite how long it took me to actually, y'know...).

And thank you for reading. Not everyone, just you.