A/N: Sorry for the terrible delay and thanks for all the follows and favorites.

Chapter IX:

The angel tried, really tried, reminding Dean of a car with a dying battery. Faint healing sparks would start for a few seconds before dying off but Cas kept on trying, pressing the gas pedal and turning the ignition. A few seconds later sparks would start again and heal a little more, barely visible, barely audible but Dean's hand -right on Sam's heart- felt one, two, three beats.

Dean looked up at Cas. His face was drenched with sweat and, Dean was almost certain, a few tears. His eyes were closed, his hands were shaking, his body swaying.

"His heart is beating, Cas." He informed, he felt he owed the angel that much. Cas nodded, the lines on his face relaxed a little but he tried one more time. "Is there anyway you can get some energy from me? Tap my soul or something?" His brother's heart beneath his hand beat erratically, one second it was there, then it was not.

Cas nodded but didn't answer as he tried one more time to start his healing spark. Dean held his breath until he felt another ratatam under his palm. Cas opened his eyes and met Dean's. The older Winchester felt bile rise up his stomach and his own heart beat erratically, the panic, the self-load in Cas apologetic look was obvious. "Cas?"

Cas eyes rolled on his sockets as his human body betrayed him and he fell forward, Sam's body cushioning his fall.

"Cas! Sam!" Dean was at lost for a second, too panicked to know what to do, too scared to do anything else but scream his loved ones' names. But he was a hunter, he was trained to act under duress, to keep his head clear when the world around him was ending. "Charlie." He screamed at the girl he knew was nearby without looking up from his brother. He heard the footsteps come closer. "Keep pressure on Sam's wound, I need to move Cas away from his chosen place of rest."

He saw feminine, milky hands squeeze under the angel's body and on top of his brother's prone figure and he spurred into action. One hand searched for Jimmy Novak's carotid as he wondered if Cas even needed a pulse. Still, he was relieved when he found one, a racing one, but one none the less. He managed to place his arm under the other man's belly and used his other hand to push up on his shoulder, trying to roll the angel away from his brother and onto the floor.

"Shh...shhh... it's ok Sam, everything is ok. You're ok. Calm down." He heard Charlie whisper and let go a sigh. You don't tell a dead man to calm down, Charlie wouldn't have chosen those words unless Sam had shown some signs of distress. And, as much as he hated when his brother was upset, a distressed Sam meant a conscious Sam.

Sam's soft voice carried through the air, he couldn't hear what he said, but he didn't care. Sam was speaking! Sam was speaking when a minute ago he feared he was never going to hear his brother's voice again.

"Dean is right here, Sam, right here." Charlie's voice woke him up from his trance.

He let go of Cas a lot less carefully than he should had considering the angel was unconscious because he just saved his brother's life and ran to Sam's side. "I am here, Sam."

Sam eyelids fluttered, his unfocused gaze searching for his brother with a weak smile. "Heya, Sammy, you scared me a little." He smiled back.

Tired hazel eyes focused on a point behind them, a confused frown on his forehead. "Mom? Dad?" He whispered. His frown relaxed and a weak smile appeared on his lips. His eyes blinked once, twice and then remained shut.

"What? No, no, Sam, please, not yet…" He begged, holding his brother's hand. He heard Charlie sob and felt her moving. " Keep your hands on the wound!" He commanded much more sternly than he should have. "SAM!" He yelled, shaking his brother's shoulder.

Sam opened his eyes shugglisgly, giving him a small smile and then again focused on something behind them.

"NO! Stay here with me!" He ordered his brother. He knew he was being selfish. He knew his brother wanted to go with the mother he never knew, with the father he so desperately seeked forgiveness from and that their parents wanted him by their side just as much. But he couldn't… he just couldn't.

"It's ok." Sam whispered and close his eyes. "They are here to help."

"NO! SAM!"

"ean...c'...hear...?" An ethereal yet familiar voice floated behind him, distorted and faint.

Sam opened his eyes again focusing on a point behind them one more time. Charlie turned around but Dean remained plastered to his brother's face.

"Ho..ey?" An unfamiliar female voice was clearer now. "I don't... can hear us, John."

Charlie nudge him with her free hand and pointed to the spot Sam had been staring at with her head, Dean followed her request and turned his head around.

His heart sank and his lungs lost all capacity to take a breath. He felt the color drain from his face and he wondered if he would pass out, but he couldn't. No matter how he felt his body shake and his brain unable to process what was in front of him, he couldn't take the luxury of being anything but composed and strong, for Sam, for Cas, and even for Charlie. He needed to sort out what was happening and fast. He needed to be there to protect his loved ones.

He moved in-front of his brother and Charlie, covering them with his body as much as he could. "Who are you? How did you get here?" He asked the figures that had decided to take the form of his parents. How had they managed to get into the bunker? It was protect so strongly sometimes even Cas had a hard time getting in. He looked around trying to find a weapon or anything to defend themselves.

"It's ok, Son. It's us, I promise." The John look-alike held his hands up in surrender. "Of course, you are right, if I were a monster, I would say that too." The figure reasoned with himself.

"Cas wake up!" He urged, wishing he could give his friend more time to compose himself but they were never that lucky. He needed Cas' help or at least he needed Cas to be able to protect himself. Still Cas gave no signs of hearing him or anybody else.

"Honey, we can prove it!" The spit image of his mother begged him. "How can we prove it, John?" She looked at the other male figured with concerned, imploring eyes.

"What do you want?" Dean tried to put all his fear, all his rage into a menacing stand and threatening voice.

"We are here to help Sam." His mother said taking a step forward.

"Stay there and don't move!" Dean order them.

John's look-alike grabbed the woman's shoulder and gently pushed her back beside him. "I know it's hard to believe son, but we are here to help Sammy." He took Mary's hand, grabbed the bottle she was holding and showed it to Dean.

"Why, how, why now?" He grunted.

"We can sometimes hear you. Not always, but sometimes, if we try real hard, we can see you for a few minutes, hear you. And sometimes, you can reach out to us." Mary's voice was sweet and imploring, her eyes filled with love as she look at her eldest. "I heard you honey, you were begging me and John to help you take care of Sam." She tried to take a step in his direction and Dean was ready to launch at her but John kept her back.

"I know it sounds unbelievable son," the dark haired man continued, "but Ash, you remember Ash, right? He found us a while ago. He just likes to have his heavenly network, as he likes to put it, with his center of operations up there, just in case we ever need it, he says." John chuckled. "He beats me with the paranoia and that is saying something."

Dean would have laughed but he still didn't trust these figures pretending to be his parents.

"But when Mary heard you, she came for me and we both ran to Ash to see if there was something we could do to help you. He put us all to work. He found plenty of people to come help. You and your brother have a lot of friends in heaven, son."

"Lucky us," Dean said bitter.

John sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I know, but in this case, it helped. Tons of hunters and civilians doing research, trying to figure out what is wrong with Sam, how to fix it."

"And did you find it?" Charlie's voice sounded naive in Dean's ears, but then, Charlie had not been through all the things Dean had been through, she had not seen the thing Dean had seen.

John nodded.

Mary grabbed the bottle again and shook it. "We did and it was decided that it was better if John and I came."

John snicker, "It was decided that I should come, you just nagged them into submission."

"I was the one that heard Dean!" She explained outraged. "He asked for MY help. I was never able to help my sons, I didn't see them grow up. Sam never had a mother. I deserve to be here more than anyone!"

John shrugged and raised his hands in surrender. "You don't have to convince me, honey."

"How can I know that you are telling the truth?" Dean asked impassive. His heart was hammering as if he had a woodpecker in his chest. His blood was rushing so loudly in his ears he had trouble hearing what the ghosts were saying. He could feel the cold sweat in his clenched hands, but he wasn't that gullible. After the life he had, he couldn't afford to be. Less of all now, with Sam as sick as he was, Cas as weak as a kitten, and sweet, adorable, yet not-very-fight-ready little-sister-like Charlie beside him.

To his side, Cas groaned and stirred, finally giving signs of waking up. Dean wanted to run to his friend, make sure that he was ok, but he couldn't take his eyes from the strangers, it was too dangerous.

"Dean, please...once…" His brother's mumbles from the floor startled him. Dean spared him a sideways glance. Sam was still on the floor, his eyes unfocused and glassy, one hand was on top of Charlie's containing the blood, while the other one pushed against the floor as he slowly tried to rise up. He knew what Sam was asking. Please, let me have my mother, I never had my mother comforting me when I was sick. Let me have her for once.

His heart broke, but he kept his composure for appearance sake, the strangers couldn't find out about the turmoil inside him. "I know Sammy. I really wish I could, but I can't risk it, not right now. Not in the shape you are in, just lie down, please." He begged as he saw his brother's fight to sit up.

Sam acquiesced and lie down, closing his eyes. "If they wanted to kill me, they would have tried something. It's not like we have a lot to lose here." His tone a resigned sarcasm, Dean had to repress himself from punching him.

"Sam, please don't talk like that. I need to be sure, you understand." He looked at his parents, doubt clouding his eyes and tone. What if they were really them? Would they ever forgive him?." You understand?" He knew he was almost begging, not good to show weakness in front of potential enemies, but he couldn't help it, he was only human.

John nodded with understanding eyes. Yes, Dean knew if his dad had been in the same situation he would have doubted them too. After all, he was the one who trained him to shoot first and ask questions later.

"It's ok Dean," Cas groaned sitting up with his head bowed down. He raised a hand to his temples and winced, closing his eyes. "They are really your parents."

That took Dean by surprised. He took his eyes away from the strangers and stared at the angel, though his protective stance remained, nobody was getting to Sam or Charlie before going through Dean. "How do you know?"

Cas sighed, between pained and annoyed, and glanced his way. His hands were still in his temples, the pained grimace still there too. "I am a celestial being, I can recognize heavenly souls."

Then it sank, those were his parents, his real parents! They weren't some monsters trying to take advantage of his brother's weaken state but the mother that had given birth to him and his baby brother, the father that had raised them. The mother and father that had come to help his brother all the way from heaven because he had begged them to. And he had acted like a dick, suspicious, angry, threatening. He had kept them from their dying baby boy. He had deprived Sam from the motherly comfort he never had. "Oh god! I am so sorry." He moved away and let them come to Sam.

Mary looked at him lovingly for a millisecond but then ran to her youngest side. Dean understood, she had barely been able to hold Sam before she was taken away, she had never comforted him, never spoke to him except for those few minutes in their old house. Now Sam was deathly ill and he had acted like a jerk, Dean would have understood if she hadn't even spared a glance for him.

John, on the other hand walked towards him, surprising Dean with a steadying hand on his shoulder and a reassuring smile. "It's ok son, you did what I trained you to do. I am proud of you, I couldn't have been easy."

Dean swallowed hard and nodded. After all this time, after all the things he had come to realize about his father in the past few years, after all the disillusions and growing up, he still craved his father's praised more than he craved peace in hell.

"Its ok honey," Mary murmured behind him, her voice breaking, "Mom is here, I'll take care you." Dean turned to look at her. She was kneeling on the floor, Sam's head was somehow already over her lap, her fingers carding his hair and her face the same wreck as Sam's when he cried. "Mom is here now, I'll take care of you, Sam."

Sam smiled at her adoringly. "It's ok, mom." He stretched his arm upwards, wiping her tears with his fingers. "Don't cry, everything is good now. Please, don't cry."

Mary chuckled through her tears. "I thought I was the one that was supposed to comfort you, not the other way around." Still Dean saw her struggle to bite her tears and put a smile on her face for her youngest.

"That's better." Sam smiled and continued to caress the woman's face.

She bit her lip as she continued to ran her fingers through Sam's hair . "I am so sorry…" she started but John interrupted her, pushing the bottle they had brought towards her.

"There will be time for everything later, Mary, now Sam needs to drink this."

She nodded, taking the bottle from the older man's hand and pushing it towards Sam's lips.

"Son, you need to drink it." John smiled sadly at his youngest. Sam's eyes went to his father, and at least to Dean, the love, regret and apology in the hazel puppy dog stare was obvious. The youngest Winchester nodded and parted his lips. He took a sip and grimaced at the taste, backing his head away from the vail. "You need to finish it, Sam." He ordered and Sam nodded, letting Mary push more liquid into him. "It won't heal your wounds." He looked at Sam and then turned to Dean. "It will just stop the grace from leaking. The angel will be able to heal him afterwards."

"The angel can barely stay conscious, Dad!" Dean shouted, angrier than he meant to as he paced around. John's apologetic look make Dean felt terribly guilty. His parents had found a solution to Sam's illness, it wasn't their fault that Dean hadn't done his job and protected Sam better.

"Dad," Sam motioned with his hand for him to come nearer, acting as the mediator for the first time in his life. John rushed to his side and took his hand. "Thanks for coming, both of you."

Sam's voice was still weak, blood still flowed from his stomach wound, his cheeks were still flushed with fever, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Dean swallowed hard as he wondered if his parents hadn't been too late.

A hand on his shoulder brought him back from his thoughts. He turned to see Cas standing beside him. "I just need ten hours, Dean, ten hours and I'll be able to heal at least most of the damage. We just need to keep him alive for ten hours."

Dean nodded, "Ten hours, that's nothing, right, Sam?"

Sam looked at him from his cozy place surrounded by parents and smiled at his brother. "Piece of cake."

"Too many people worked on this antidote, Son, don't you dare disappoint them." John patted Sam's shoulder and showed he cared the only way he knew how.

"No, Sir," Sam nodded. "Dad… I am sorry…. for…"

John interrupted him. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, Sammy. Not with me, not with anyone, ok? So don't apologize, Son, not to me…not to anyone, you always tried your best. Understood? " John used his drill sergeant voice to make himself clear. Sam nodded. "That goes for you too, clear?" He frowned at his eldest, Dean bit his lip to repress the emotions flowing through him. "Now, let me see that wound, I think we should probably stitch it up. Dean do you have a kit nearby?"

Dean picked up the forgotten first aid kit from the floor and gave it to his father. "Though we have morphine and ton of medicine in Sam's room, maybe we should move him there first?"

"I think it's better to stop the bleeding before moving him. Maybe you can bring some here?"

"No, I don't want anything that will make me sleepy or loopy." Sam was adamant.

"Sammy," Dean and John said simultaneously.

"No… use some topical anesthetic if you have, if not, don't use anything. I don't want to sleep." He looked at Mary. "I want to be as conscious as I can, please!"

John caressed his hair, "Ok, son."

A/N: Reviews are loved and thanked. I think there is only one chapter left, though with all the things that Sam and Dean need to say to Mary and John and viceversa, who knows?