A/N: I have to thank all of those who have been reading, alerting, and reviewing. Those of you who write already know how much it means and those of you who don't, I can't tell you enough how much it is appreciated. I also have to give a special thanks to Spelllesswonder29; I was blown away by your praise and the shout-out in your own story. Thanks so much, you totally rock! Hope you all enjoy this chapter – it wraps up part 2 but doesn't anywhere near wrap up this story as part 3 is still to come!

CHAPTER 21

It was a two hour drive back to Pontiac but Sam drove it in forty-five minutes. He called Tasha's cell only to hear it ringing from her jacket pocket in the back seat. He cursed loudly, realizing she had must have left it there after taking the flour-covered garment off on the way back from the messy hunt. He debated trying Dean's number but didn't want to risk waking him – or it – up if it was still sleeping so he decided against it. They had chosen a small, quiet, out-of-the-way motel with no twenty-four hour desk or switchboard. Normally that would be considered ideal for hunters but for once, in this situation, Sam would have preferred a busy Holiday Inn or even a five-star Hilton.

He skidded into the parking lot at a few minutes past four a.m., noticing immediately that Tasha's was the only light on with small rays of light escaping past the drab and stained curtains. He decided to try her room first, even if just to warn her that Dean wasn't really Dean, and he ran up to the door.

He could hear a commotion inside. Calling Tasha's name, he wrenched at the handle only to find it locked. Hoping like Hell he wasn't going to walk in on her having wild sex with the monster that looked like his brother, he shouldered the door in.

Dean was in the room but they definitely weren't having sex. Sam stormed in just in time to see Tasha rolling to the floor on the far side of the bed brandishing the knife she had just snatched from under her pillow. She spared a brief glance in his direction and he noticed the trickle of blood from her newly split lip. She took a defensive stance facing Dean, who was standing across the bed from her. Dean turned to face Sam and grinned when their green eyes met.

"There you are, little brother!" he greeted with menacing cheer.

"Sam, there's something wrong with him!" Tasha warned quickly, not lowering her knife. "Someone's mojo-ing him. He had a hex bag stashed under his jeans waistband." She tossed a small hex bag across the room to Sam, who snatched it out of the air without taking his eyes off the thing impersonating his brother. "And he's being an ass." She spat the last words snidely at Dean and Sam couldn't help feel a flicker of amusement at how much more she sounded like an annoyed girlfriend than scared.

Sam drew Ruby's silver knife. "It's not Dean," he revealed, still watching the imposter intently. "What do you want?" he demanded of it.

"What?" Dean shrugged his shoulders in feigned innocence. "I woke up and you weren't there so I figured I'd pass the time with Tash here." He gave her a lewd grin. "Right, Babe?"

"I mean why are you pretending to be my brother in the first place?" Sam hissed, taking a threatening step forwards.

"Sam, what's going on?" The anger was gone from Tasha's voice and now she did sound scared. Sam realized she had been thinking someone was just hexing Dean or influencing him but that it had still been Dean. Now she was terrified of the truth he was about to give her.

"Dean never came back," he told her regretfully, the painful knot inside him twisting tighter at the truth of his own words as he spoke them aloud. "His body's still in his grave. This isn't him at all."

Sam didn't have time to break it to her gently or to worry about her feelings at this point because Dean was lunging at him. He defended with the knife but whatever the thing was, it was strong and fast because it easily knocked the blade out of his hand and sent him sprawling to the floor. He rolled out of the way just in time to avoid a vicious boot to the face and scrambled to his feet while Dean scooped the lost knife off the floor.

Whatever-it-was was laughing and for the first time since his return, it was painfully clear that it wasn't Dean. A nasty, sinister cackle escaped the handsome man's lips, a sound more abrasive and offensive to those who loved Dean than the worst of alarm clocks could ever be. "Glad you're back, Sammy," he taunted. "Coz this is exactly how it's supposed to go down."

"What does that mean?" Sam fired back.

"You're supposed to get a front row seat," Dean replied smugly. "I was kinda hoping to have a little fun first," his eyes flashed pointedly at Tasha before he shrugged, "But whatever." He was holding Ruby's knife out and he suddenly feigned left but dove right, over the corner of the bed and towards the girl. She deftly managed to dodge the swipe of the knife aimed at her neck but took a hard follow-up punch in the gut that slammed her against the back wall.

Sam chewed up the distance between himself and the pair in a long second that felt like forever. As he rushed towards them, he noticed that Tasha still had her own knife in her hand but wasn't using it. Sam had seen her skill with a blade and knew she could have easily sunk it into Dean's briefly exposed abdomen. Her hesitation cost her the advantage and her attacker had wrapped his hand around her neck and slammed her head against the wall by the time Sam threw his bulk into him. Luckily, Sam's sizable frame managed to knock Dean off balance before he could bring Ruby's knife around for another stab at Tasha and the two men fell grappling to the ground.

Sam may have had the height advantage but the thing that looked like Dean had far superior strength. The younger Winchester quickly found himself on the losing end of the fight and was forced to bring his arms up over his head to block the savage blows that were being rained down on him. Even so, he noted Dean was simply punching him and not making any real effort to use the knife he had appropriated from Sam moments ago.

'You're supposed to get a front row seat'

Dean's words ran through Sam's mind. This thing didn't want to kill him, at least not right away. It wanted him to witness Tasha being killed first. It was toying with him, tormenting him, trying to make him suffer before it finished him off.

Just like a demon would do.

He was trying to work out if a hex-bag could actually render a demon immune to holy water and exorcisms when he caught a lucky break and managed to shove his attacker backwards. He saw a still-recovering Tasha struggling to steady herself on her feet behind Dean as she pushed herself off the motel room wall. He tried to slide out from under a reeling Dean but the bastard bounced back too swiftly and dug a knee painfully into his chest, pinning him back down. Sam was unable to land a blow of his own and he literally saw stars when a hard fist to the face smashed his head into the floor.

He heard laughter as his eyes regained focus. He glanced past the fist that again struck his face to see Tasha behind Dean, her knife raised in both two hands and spared a thought to hope she didn't chicken out like she had earlier.

This time she didn't. She swung the knife down hard, sinking it up to the hilt in Dean's back and skipping away when he screamed and arched his back in obvious pain. Sam took instant advantage to land a few hits of his own that had enough of an impact to allow him to slide out from under Dean and roll to his feet. It wasn't lost on him that although Tasha had not been able to stab Dean's likeness to save herself, she had done that very thing for his sake, a fact he was more than grateful for.

The silver knife coated in dead-man's blood rammed into his back had clearly hurt and taken Dean by surprise, but it became quickly apparent it wasn't a lethal blow. Relieved of the mystery hex-bag, if he'd been a shapeshifter or a revenant, he would surely be rolling on the floor dying right now. Instead, he was back on his feet in seconds, charging after Tasha like a raging bull with supernatural strength and speed.

Neither hunter was fast enough to stop him and she was flung viciously onto the floor, striking the hard table on her way down and receiving a series of savage kicks to the stomach and face once she got there. Sam bit back his instinct to dive immediately into the fray and instead took the time to grab Ruby's knife from the floor where Dean had dropped it.

No sooner had his fingers wrapped around the knife's hilt than he lunged at Dean. Although seemingly intent on his furious attack on Tasha, who was now curled up and gasping on the floor, Dean spun to face Sam just in time. Managing to evade the hunter's first swing, the two lunged, ducked, and weaved violently around the room. Dean used the knife he pulled out of his own back to deflect Sam's swings but never made a serious attempt to sink the blade into Sam's flesh, instead restricting his strikes to shallow, sweeping arcs aimed at slicing, not stabbing.

Sam finally got a successful jab in, ramming Ruby's knife hilt-deep in Dean's shoulder. He jerked backwards away from him, noticing right away that there were no flashes of light coming from underneath Dean's skin, the tell-tale sign of a demon dying within its host.

Shit – not a demon either.

"What the hell are you?" he demanded angrily, his breath coming in harsh pants of exertion.

Dean smirked. It was Dean's own smirk and seeing his brother's likeness with blood all over the front of his shirt from a wound he had caused was making Sam sick to his stomach.

"I'm your brother, Sammy," he laughed, flashing Dean's own cocky grin.

Sam curled his lip in anger, determined to keep their foe distracted while Tasha pulled herself together. "You're not a demon," he spat. "Not a shapeshifter, not a zombie, not a revenant." Tasha was using the table to drag herself to her feet behind Sam. "That leaves doppelganger."

"But we zapped him," Tasha pointed out, her breath hitched and ragged.

Dean laughed. "You pussies only gave me a tickle," he jeered. "Too worried about your precious Dean."

"The hex bag kept your eyes from going white," Sam figured out.

"Yahtzee!" Dean exclaimed, sounding as much like Dean as he looked and churning Sam's stomach even more.

"Tasha," Sam addressed the girl without turning to look at her. "Go to the car and get the Taser." In his haste to warn her, he hadn't even thought to bring it in.

Dean's eyes narrowed and he tensed, the only warning of what came next. He lunged forward, trying to dart past Sam and go for Tasha again. Sam threw his bulk in Dean's path and took the impact with a loud grunt, shouting at Tasha as he did so. "Go!"

As he was knocked painfully to the floor and Dean moved to jump over him, Sam grabbed at the moving ankle, wrapping his hands desperately around the jean-clad leg and pulling for all he was worth. As he watched Dean topple to the ground next to him, he saw Tasha yank the door open and pause to give him a brief, indecisive look when she reached it. He could tell she didn't want to leave him alone with a super strong, murderous monster that looked like his brother, but the girl had good hunter's instincts and they would surely convince her the only chance either of them had was to get that Taser.

He was right. She left just as Dean's boot slammed into Sam's face. Sam wrestled with his brother's double on the floor but again ended up on the receiving end of more blows than he managed to successfully deliver. The thirty or so seconds it took Tasha to get the only effective weapon from her car seemed like an eternity as he took one brutal hit after another.

His face was swollen and blood streamed past his eyes from cuts to his brow, making it hard to see. His nose was bloody and painful and he had actually heard one of his ribs crack with the last kick to his side. He pushed himself up on all fours, coughing past the blood in his mouth and was thinking that maybe Dean had decided to kill him first after all when the bastard suddenly backed off a little.

"You have got to be the biggest pain in the ass little brother in history!" he snarled at him from where he stood. "You're whiney, you complain about everything, you nag worse than an old woman, you have an unseemly amount of gas, and to top it all off," he threw his hand in the air to add effect to his rant, "You're banging my girl!"

"She's not your girl," Sam seethed, not bothering to refute the banging part. "She's Dean's."

"You forget," Dean laughed again, looking up as Tasha ran back in the door with two Tasers in her hand, "I am Dean." He planted another swift kick in Sam's gut and lunged at her.

Tasha managed to toss Sam a stun gun before firing her own at the approaching figure. The prongs stuck in his chest but he surprisingly managed to sweep them aside with a howl of pain and kept advancing. She landed a fist in Dean's face but it had much less effect than the one he landed in hers.

Sam made it to his feet just as she hit the floor. The weapon she had tossed him was an older-model stun gun without the release wires so he launched himself at Dean, who had already picked up a knife from the floor and was drawing it back to plunge it downward at Tasha. Sam wrapped one arm around Dean from behind and jabbed the gun firmly in his side, squeezing the button.

Dean bucked and heaved, pushing backwards towards Sam and screaming in obvious agony. Sam clung on tightly, holding the gun in place and managing not to get thrown off as he was slammed repeatedly into the wall. The doppelganger eventually fell to the ground, dragging Sam with him as he kept writhing. They rolled on the carpet but the violent struggle finally subsided and Sam found himself lying practically underneath Dean with the gun still held tight into his ribcage.

He watched as his brother's hazel eyes turned white and the fight left him. Dean grabbed Sam's shirt collar in both hands. "Sammy," he rasped in a pleading tone. "Please … stop."

Sam swallowed but held his finger on the button, carefully avoiding touching the area of the gun to prevent shocking himself as it was set on maximum.

"S'my …" it begged pleading with Dean's eyes not to kill him. His big brother's face looked at him like he was everything in the world that mattered, the way he used to when they were young. "I'm your brother … please don't. Don't let me die…"

Sam steeled himself against the power of its trickery and held fast. Its eyes finally closed and it fell limp on top of him, its weight suddenly a crushing burden. The hunter released the button and rolled the body off him, frantically trying to get away from it and up on his feet. He stared down at what looked like his brother's dead body for a long moment before both the emotional and the physical pain of the double-sided beating he'd just taken caught up with him. He'd seen Dean die too many times. He just couldn't bear to go through this again. He felt like he was going to lose it right there and then, snap and run away from the pain of his sanity, but the vague realization he wasn't alone held him together. He glanced over at Tasha, who was standing a few feet from him, also staring with anguish and despair at the lifeless form on the floor.

"You okay?" he managed, barely registering that her face was bloody and swollen and she was hunched over in obvious pain. He waited for her small nod of acknowledgement before taking a deep breath and striding quickly towards the bathroom as a wave of nausea hit him. Having barely eaten all day, he dry-heaved violently into the dingy motel toilet, gasping and fighting to restrain the strangled sobs that were threatening to escape. Drops of blood from his brow, his nose, and his mouth fell into the bowl, quickly turning the water pink as he stared blankly down at it.

Dean was dead. Again. And this time Sam had the memory of being the one to kill him to go along with the renewed pain and anguish of an all too familiar loss.

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He emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later. Managing to pull himself together had not been easy but the room was silent and worry and concern for Tasha soon overtook his need to be alone. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking small and shaken. She had stripped the sheet and laid it over the dead body, clearly wanting to remove Dean's dead face from her view.

She looked up as Sam approached, her face echoing the way he felt. Besides the puffy cheek, the swollen lip and the blood trickling from her nose, the look in her eyes told Sam that her heart had just been broken all over again. He had a feeling the pain in his own chest was from the same thing, trumping the bruised and broken ribs by a mile. He sat down next to her with a sigh that came out as more of a whimper.

She leaned sideways, gently resting her shoulder against his bicep. "We're sure it wasn't him, right?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he assured her, surprised she could possibly still have any doubts. He supposed it was a combination of her not having seen the body as well as grief and denial. He stretched his arm out around her shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze in lieu of any further conversation.

The ensuing silence was interrupted by a knock on the door and Sam sprang to his feet, his hand reaching for Ruby's knife on the nearby chair.

"Sam?" Ruby's voice floated through the closed door.

He exhaled loudly in relief and strode over to open it.

"Is that Chrissy?" Tasha asked, her surprise evident.

Sam nodded as he let the demon in, watching the new arrival as she wordlessly took in the wrecked room, the battered hunters, and the sheet-covered form on the floor. "You guys have been busy," she commented with her usual light sarcasm. "What's under the sheet?" she pointed to the body. "Rugaru? Demon? Shapeshifter?"

"Doppleganger," Sam said simply. "Why are you here, uh, Chrissy?"

Ruby gave a quick, wary glance in Tasha's direction before answering. "Lillith," she explained. "I heard whispers she's got some big plan in the works and you're the target."

Sam clenched his fists. "This was Lillith's doing?" he seethed.

Ruby arched an eyebrow at him. "Was?" She looked down at the sheet. "So the rumors were true," she breathed.

"What rumors?" Sam pressed.

Ruby squatted and gingerly lifted the end of the sheet, peering at Dean's face before replacing it and standing up. "Word is Lillith sent some lackies to investigate Succorbenoth's disappearance and figured out what happened at the mill. She decided to take the opportunity to send out a decoy to go after you, Sam."

Sam was barely restraining his fury and he spoke through clenched teeth. "This thing was answering to Lillith?" he spat. "I should have known. That bitch!" He slammed his fist down onto the table.

"You know how hard it is to make a doppelganger?" Ruby continued. "They usually come naturally … well, supernaturally … but to make one specifically look like your brother…" She shrugged. "That's high-level shit, Sam. Lillith's kind of pay-grade."

"But I don't think she was trying to kill me," he admitted with a frown. "Dean … I mean, the doppelganger … seemed more like he was trying to kill Tasha."

Ruby looked thoughtful. "That sounds exactly like Lillith," she persisted. "Hurt the people you care about instead; make you suffer first. She really has it in for you, Sam."

A new bolt of rage raced through Sam, followed closely by a surge of guilt. He had worried about this possibility and had ignored it for his own selfish reasons. He had put Tasha on Lillith's radar, put her in a huge pile of danger.

"I need to take that demon bitch down!" he hissed, pacing back and forth at the foot of the bed. Tasha was still sitting quietly on the end of it, watching him intently.

"Don't worry, Sam," Tasha said softly. "We'll get Lillith. But for now, we need to do something about that." She pointed to the body.

"I'll take care of that for you guys," Ruby offered, earning herself a surprised glance from Sam. "You two look like crap and I can see how burning a guy who looks like Dean could be hard for you."

Tasha stood up slowly and stiffly, unable to successfully conceal the wince that crossed her face at the obvious pain of movement. "Thanks, Chrissy," she said simply before heading to the bathroom and shutting the door with a soft click.

Ruby waited until the water from the tap turned on before rolling the body up in the sheet and hoisting it over her shoulder. "I should do this now," she announced as she turned to head for the door. "It'll be daylight soon."

"Ruby," Sam called in a hushed voice, stopping the demon in her tracks. "Thanks."

She smiled apologetically at him. "Sorry I didn't get here sooner," she said, sounding sincere. "This could have ended a lot worse than it did."

Sam flinched. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, thinking only of the danger Tasha had been put in as he really didn't care about his own safety at this point.

"You need to kill Lillith, Sam," Ruby added sternly. "It's the only way this will end well for you." She glanced towards the bathroom. "Or anyone else."

"I know," Sam repeated, though this time his words were charged with anger instead of guilt. Anger directed solely at Lillith. "I will. Call me tomorrow."

Ruby nodded. "Of course," she replied quickly, turning once again and disappearing out the door with the large, white-clad form over her slender shoulder.

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In a small wooded area just outside of Lincoln, Illinois, flames danced from a makeshift pyre, the sizzling and popping sounds delivering proof the body adorning it was indeed burning its way to harmlessness. Nearby, a petite brunette sat cross-legged on the grass while the body of a local homeless person sat slumped in the passenger seat of the muscle car behind her, blood still streaming from his neck.

She was speaking in tongues into a large goblet, tracing her finger in circles as she slowly stirred its dark, red contents. Her eyes flashed black and she smiled triumphantly when a gust of wind swirled around her, clasping the goblet's stem tightly in two hands.

"Lillith," Ruby greeted, speaking directly into the blood. No reply was audible in the quiet Illinois countryside but it was clear the demon was receiving one.

"I'm just checking in," she said aloud. "It didn't go entirely as planned but I think it worked."

She paused for a moment before continuing.

"My hex bag trick worked perfectly. He completely believed it was his brother. He's gutted all over again. "

Another pause.

"Yes, he thinks it was all you. He's back on track gunning for you. He'll definitely start drinking again."

She smirked confidently down at the goblet in her hands.

"And he's getting so good, too," she said, pride showing in her voice as she recounted aloud Sam's victory over Succorbenoth while using his power.

"Well, that's the only part that didn't go as planned," she said in answer to an unheard question, her expression turning to a scowl. "The girl didn't die. But our boy did have to kill his brother and I'm pretty sure the whole incident was enough for him to send Little Miss Interference packing."

The blood started to bubble and Ruby narrowed her eyes at the concoction.

"Of course I've got things under control!" she hissed at it. "I'm right back in there. But," she bit her lip, her defensive tone subsiding. "Just in case…I could use your help with one thing."

Her lips turned up into a malicious smirk. "I need you to locate a vampire named Diego…"

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Fortunately the motel had not been busy and there were no other guests in the rooms near Sam's and Tasha's. It seemed nobody had been disturbed by the ruckus of the early morning fight and by dawn, the early risers were going about their boring, meaningless, ignorant business.

Sam determined this because he was peering out the window every thirty seconds, partly due to his diligence in guard duty and partly to distract him from the dark and confusing thoughts swirling in his head.

He sat at the motel table, across from Tasha who was on her laptop, searching for a new hunt. They had decided to leave that morning and put some distance between them and Lincoln before the motel staff saw the wrecked state the room was in. After Ruby had left, Tasha had spent a long time in the bathroom before coming out and immediately hauling out her laptop, agreeing readily with Sam's suggestion to leave town.

Despite his stony silence, Sam was fighting an overwhelming mass of emotions inside. He was griefstricken. Fearful. Guilt-ridden. Tormented. But most of all, he was angry. Angry at Lillith. Angry at her for making him believe Dean was alive, for allowing him to hope and feel again. Angry at her for doing the same to Tasha, whose devastation was not as well hidden on her bruised-up face. He was angry at Lillith for forcing them both to lose Dean again, for a second time. How many times was he going to allow this demon to rip his heart out and stomp on it?

He played countless scenarios though in his imagination, each one ending with him utterly decimating a pleading, screaming Lillith. He felt a little better after each one and he let the anger and the hatred slowly swallow the hurt and pain. It had made existing tolerable before and he saw no reason he shouldn't let it help him again.

"Possible wraith in Tallahassee," Tasha announced, giving him a weak smile before turning her attention back to the monitor in front of her.

He nodded, focusing on her face. He cared about her. At this point he didn't want to care about anyone or anything but he couldn't help it, he cared about her. Deeply. He couldn't spare the effort to figure out how or in what way but he couldn't deny the feelings were there. Killing Lillith was back on top of his 'to do' list, but keeping Tasha safe was a higher priority. The only higher priority. He hadn't been able to save Dean but he had to protect Tasha, for Dean's sake as well as his own.

Lillith now knew who Tasha was. She knew Sam cared for her. He had no idea how the demon queen had figured all this out, but Tasha was now in danger because of him - because Lillith wanted to punish him. His heart lurched painfully in his chest as the truth hit him. The biggest threat to Tasha ... was Sam.

"What do you think?" she was asking him quietly and he shook his head to snap out of his own thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Tallahassee?" she repeated. "Should we go after the wraith?"

Sam held her gaze for a long moment before answering. He let out a long exhale and sat back in his chair. "I think you should go after the wraith," he said slowly.

Her brown eyes widened and he knew she hadn't missed his point. She shook her head, the wraith hunt clearly forgotten. "No, Sam," she said in a pleading tone. "We should stick together."

"I don't think that's such a good idea, Tash," he told her. "Not anymore."

"I do," she argued. "Now more than ever." Her voice hitched. "We're all we've got left."

Sam reached forward and took her hand, resting his elbows on his knees and focusing his green eyes squarely on her soft, brown ones.

"This isn't real," he said gently. "This…" he gestured back and forth between them both, "Whatever it is, isn't even about us. This is about Dean and us both trying to feel some kind of connection to him through another person he loved."

She shook her head. "I'm not trying to replace Dean with you," she denied. "And I'm not talking about sleeping together, Sam. I'm just saying we hunt together. Travel together. This has nothing to do with Dean."

Sam gave her a disbelieving raise of his brow. "Can you honestly say your feelings for me, friendship or otherwise, aren't all twisted around your feelings for Dean?" he challenged.

She didn't answer right away. "Can you?" she deflected, throwing the question back at him.

"No," he replied with convincing decisiveness. "There is no you and me. It's you, me and Dean, whether he's alive or dead and whether we're friends or … more than friends."

She sat up straight, gently pulling her hand out of his, her face tight with emotion.

"This isn't going to end well," Sam pressed, determined to make his point. "It won't end with us being friends and I want to keep your friendship – it means a lot to me."

He wasn't lying. He did value her friendship more than anything else in his life right now. But he couldn't have her around. Not only would she be in danger but she would hold him back. He needed free reign to go after Lillith and he couldn't do that without Ruby and the demon blood. He couldn't afford to have to sneak around and hide what he was doing and he couldn't afford to have to worry about keeping her safe while he did what was necessary.

He reached up to his neck and pulled Dean's amulet out from under his t-shirt. He hadn't been able to get past his doubts enough to return it to his brother before the doppelganger had been exposed as a fraud so it had remained hidden the entire two days beneath his clothes. He pulled it off over his head and held it out to her.

"Here," he said softly. "I think you should have this."

Her eyes widened and she visibly leaned backwards away from the offering. "No," she finally breathed in response, reaching forward and closing his fist around the odd-shaped piece of jewelry. "That was between you and Dean. Dean would want you to keep that." She pushed his hand back towards his chest. "I am so flattered that you would give it to me, but you were the most important thing in his life," she whispered. "You always had been and always would have been. That's part of why I loved him so much."

She smiled up at him. "But it's not the only reason I care about you," she continued. "I care about you, Sam Winchester, all on your own. I mean, maybe you're right about some parts of it. You could be right that what happened the other night…" she rolled one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, "…was in part about Dean. But I don't think it was wrong and I don't regret it. In fact," she looked up at him sheepishly, "The only thing I regret is that we didn't try it on our own, just the two of us. I don't see it as a shameful mistake like you do and I wish you didn't either."

Sam smiled back at her, relief sweeping though him as he pulled the leather necklace back over his head and tucked the treasured keepsake back under the fabric of his tee. "I don't think it was a mistake," he admitted. "I just didn't want you to feel like you had to hold back from Dean when he showed up."

"Dean's gone," she said quietly. "I'll learn to deal with that eventually. But in the meantime," she looked up at him. "Will you promise to at least keep in touch?"

Sam breathed a sigh of relief at the realization she was agreeing to go their separate ways. "Of course," he agreed quickly.

"And promise me you'll call if you get any leads on Lillith. Don't go trying to take her down by yourself."

"Of course," Sam lied, just as quickly.

She leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. It wasn't exactly a chaste kiss, but it wasn't asking for more. Sam breathed it in, determined to remember it for a long time since he didn't expect to ever see her again. He was going full tilt after Lillith and didn't expect to survive. If he was being honest, that detail really didn't bother him.

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A/N: That's the end of Part 2 – hated to leave it sad, but still trying to keep it cannon. And I told you I loved that Ruby was a conniving bitch :) I hope you all liked Part 2 enough to stay tuned for Part 3, which I will get to in a week or two and takes place just after the real Dean gets back (Part 3, BTW, will be somewhat AU). In the meantime I'm taking a small break to do some fic reading since writing takes up a lot of time and I don't get to read as many other fics as I'd like while I'm working on my own.

I know Sam did a lot of flip-flopping back and forth in this part of my story but he was still very messed up over losing Dean and was at a turning point in the series. Ruby and her demon-blood were yanking him in one direction and Dean, through Tasha, was yanking him back towards his old life and his old self. Ruby's ploy and losing his brother all over again just proved too much for him in the end and he went in her direction, which turns him into the conflicted and downward spiraling Sam we see in season 4. Hopefully I managed to pull that off without straying too far from the show. I'd love to hear what you all thought and hope all of you are interested enough to come back for part 3!