Okay, first things first. We are having some Montana weather here and I am having trouble with my internet again! I can't get into my e-mail so I must apologize to everyone who commented on the last chapter. I will read the comments as soon as I can and hopefully will be able to reply. If I can't, please know that I appreciate every comment and review I receive! Okay, now on to the next chapter. I hope you enjoy.

Cindy.

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Despite his most valiant efforts to stay awake, Dean finally succumbed to his body's need for sleep. Bobby had fallen asleep and hour before, and Dean fought hard but soon his eyes became too heavy and he slipped away into slumber, Sam's hand still clutched protectively in his own. He awoke the next morning to the sounds of Bobby preparing to make breakfast on the old woodburning cookstove. He checked on Sam who was still sleeping peacefully beside him. He was relieved to see that some color had returned to his brother's face. It was a vast improvement from the dull, ashen pallor Sam's skin had taken on these past weeks. He gently released Sam's hand, not wanting to wake him up just yet. He ambled to the bathroom and after finishing his business and taking a quick shower, he emerged feeling ten times better than he had the previous night.

Dean's thoughts turned to the scene that he and Bobby had stumbled upon when returning to the cabin. He could see the white haired man holding onto Sam's hands, the light emanating from him. He could see Sam's face, the absolute absence of any emotion or recognition in his wide eyes. It disturbed Dean to no end and he couldn't wait until Sam awoke so he could hopefully shed some light on what had happened.

As if on cue, Sam began to stir, his eyes opening slowly. Both Dean and Bobby stopped what they were doing and walked to the bed. They stood staring at the young man and a moment later his gaze met theirs. Sam slowly pushed himself up into a seated position, dropping his gaze as if embarrassed. He had actually looked surprised at first when he saw the two men.

"Hey," Sam said softly, his bangs hanging messily in his eyes.

"Hey. How ya feeling?" Dean replied, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Uh...I'm good. How'd the hunt go?" Sam asked, looking up at Dean but not quite looking him in the eyes.

"The hunt? It was good. Would've liked to have had you there though."

Sam smiled slightly, almost a grimace actually. "Dean...I would've been in the way. You know that."

"No Sam, I don't think so," Dean replied as he shook his head. "So, you going to enlighten us on what happened last night?"

Sam flinched slightly then dropped his eyes to the bed. "What do you mean?"

"Come on Sam, you know what I'm talking about." Dean was confused by Sam's behavior. He was acting embarrassed and guilty, like it was his fault that the strange man had attacked him.

Sam swallowed nervously as he fidgeted in the bed. "How...how do you know about that?"

"Sam...what the hell? We saw the man. He was holding onto your hands. Who was he? Did he hurt you?"

Sam jerked his head up, a confused look on his face. "Man? You saw a man? What did he look like?"

"Uh...tall, thin, almost white hair. Oh yeah, and he was glowing."

"I...I thought I was dreaming, or hallucinating," Sam whispered.

"What's that Sam? I didn't quite catch you there," Dean queried, even more confused. Sam obviously thought Dean was talking about something other than the man.

Sam looked up, his eyes wide. "I thought it was a dream. I thought I was dreaming. He was really here?"

"Yeah Sam, he was here and then he wasn't. And then you passed out on the floor. What the hell went on here?"

Sam dropped his eyes again and remained silent for a moment. When he did speak it was in a soft, timid voice. "Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't know what else to do. I was going to leave, but I promised I wouldn't. I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I just hurt so bad, I wanted it to stop. I...I wasn't thinking. So I did it and...and then the man came. I thought I was dreaming. I thought I..." Sam's voice trailed off.

"You thought what?" Dean asked. "Sam, what did you do last night? You said you did it. What did you do?"

Tears were streaming down Sam's cheeks as he tried to speak the words that he knew would hurt his brother to his very soul. Bobby shifted uncomfortably next to the bed as he eyed the distraught young man.

"Sam...what did you do?" Dean demanded forcefully.

"I...thought I was...dying. I should have died," Sam whispered.

"What! Sam, what do you mean?" Dean cried, his heart beating wildly in his chest. A terrifying thought hammered into his mind and he jumped from the bed, rushing to Sam's duffel bag. He dug through the bag frantically, then pushed it aside when he didn't find what he was looking for.

"Where are they Sam?" Dean shouted from across the room.

Sam sat quietly, fiddling unconsciously with the covers, refusing to meet his brother's gaze.

"Where are your sleeping pills Sam!?"

Bobby jerked his eyes from Dean to Sam after hearing that. He moved closer to the bed and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam," he said softly, "You didn't. Tell me you didn't."

"I just wanted the pain to stop," Sam whispered softly.

Bobby covered his mouth with his hand. "Oh my God," he muffled.

Dean rushed to the bed and grabbed Sam's shoulders. "How many did you take Sam? Tell me Sam!" Dean cried, tears now making tracks down his cheeks.

Sam finally looked up, his sad eyes finding Deans. "All of them," he said softly.

"Son of a bitch!! Why Sam? Why would you do that?"

"I'm sorry Dean. I just wanted it all to stop. I thought I could free you from your burden and get yellow-eyes off your back too."

Dean slugged the pillow violently next to Sam's head, making Sam flinch. "You are not a burden Sam! How many times do I have to say it? So what, I was supposed to come back and find you dead and all of the sudden a weight would be lifted from me? Are you really that dense Sam?"

"I'm sorry Dean. I thought that if I was...gone...the demon wouldn't need me anymore and he would leave you alone. I can't do much of anything anymore and I was so afraid I was going to get you killed. I thought I was saving you. It just hurts so much Dean. Everything that's happened, it hurts so bad. I wasn't thinking straight."

"You got that right! You weren't thinking. Sam, it would have killed me if you had died. Don't you get that? There's no me without you!" Dean cried as he pulled Sam's face up to meet his. "There's no me without you."

Sam collapsed forward into Dean, his face pressing into Dean's neck. Hard sobs shook his frame. Dean reached strong arms around his baby brother and pulled him tightly into a hug. Bobby went to the kitchen area, giving the brothers their privacy. "It's okay Sammy. Everything is going to be okay. I promise," Dean whispered soothingly into Sam's ear.

After several minutes, Sam pulled away and looked at Dean. "Dean, I'm sorry. Please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you Sam. I could never hate you. I just wish you'd talk to me. I know I don't like chick-flick moments, but if you're hurting I want to know. Don't shut me out Sam. Please?"

"Okay Dean. I'm sorry."

"Okay, no more keeping this shit inside. Now, are you hungry? Bobby's making breakfast and I want you to eat. You have hardly eaten in a month. We'll talk about this later."

"I guess I am a little hungry."

"Good. You stay here and rest and we'll get the grub going. Everything's going to be fine Sammy."

Sam nodded and smiled sadly before turning his face away.

Dean stood up from the bed and walked to the kitchen area where Bobby had started to crack eggs into a bowl. He stopped beside Bobby, giving Sam a sideways glance.

"Bobby, that bottle was nearly full. If Sam took all the pills, why is he still alive?" Dean said softly.

"I don't know, but I'd be willing to wager our mystery man had something to do with it," Bobby replied, shifting his gaze to Sam. "Oh my God!" he gasped, gripping Dean's arm tightly.

Dean followed Bobby's eyes to Sam, who had pulled a magazine from the nightstand and was absently flipping through the pages. Dean's eyes widened and both he and Bobby rushed to the bed. Sam looked up questioningly when he sensed their eyes on him.

"What? What are you looking at?" he asked self consciously.

"Your...your hands Sammy..." Dean stuttered.

Sam glanced down, dropping the magazine to the floor in shock. He raised his hands in front of his face, his eyes wide.

"I can move my hand Dean! I can feel it!" Sam cried excitably. "What's going on? I don't understand. I...Dean?"

Dean dropped to the bed and grabbed Sam's hands. He looked at Sam's shocked face and smiled. "I don't know Sam. You can feel it? Really?"

"Yeah! I can feel it, and the right one's not numb anymore."

"Wiggle your fingers Sam!" Dean quipped happily.

Sam wiggled the fingers on both hands, a wide, dimpled grin lighting up his face. Bobby smiled broadly and walked to the other side of the bed. He clapped Sam on the shoulder and Sam looked up at him, his eyes bright for the first time in months.

"I don't believe it," Sam whispered, looking at his hands.

Dean brushed his hand through his hair nervously. "When we're done with breakfast, you are going to tell me everything that happened last night after we left Sam. Everything."

Sam smiled and nodded his head. Dean beamed back. He hadn't realized how much he had missed that smile.

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So, there it is. Please let me know what you think. Hopefully, I'll be able to read the comments and reply. LOL Thanks so much for reading!

Cindy.