Okay, well I think I may have run most everyone off with that last one. I was afraid that would happen. For the rest of you who still trust me, thank you so much. This next chapter is another tearjerker, so be warned. Thanks for reading...you all rock!!!

Cindy.

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"Dean."

New tears coursed down Dean's cheeks as he stared unblinking in the direction of the door. The others in the room stood stock still, Bobby's eyes the size of saucers, his mouth hanging open in a way that would have been comical if the situation weren't so damned serious. Dean's mouth moved to speak but no words would come out. He swallowed slowly then took a deep breath before trying once more to speak. One barely audible word escaped his trembling lips.

"D-Dad?"

The scruffy faced, dark haired man stepped toward the shell shocked younger man, a smile spreading over his handsome face.

"Yeah Dean, it's me. God it's good to see you son," John said, his gruff voice cracking with emotion.

"B-But...you're d-dead," Dean stammered, taking a step back as John reached out for him.

Jakota and Bryan glanced at each other, their eyes conveying the shock they felt. Could this really be the legendary John Winchester that stood before them? And if it was, how could that be? John Winchester had been dead for nearly a year, having given his life to assure Dean's survival. A long sigh brought their attention back to the strange reunion they were witnessing. John had lowered his eyes, his head slowly moving from side to side. He looked up, his eyes searching Dean's face, imploring his son to believe.

"No Dean. I was never dead," John said softly.

"What? But I saw you. We...Sammy and I burned your body," Dean said, his heart hammering in his chest.

"That wasn't me. Azazel wanted you to believe it was me," John stated as he moved closer to his son.

"B-But...I...I don't understand," Dean said shakily, keeping himself between his brother and the man who looked and sounded like his dead father.

"In exchange for your life, Azazel wanted the colt and me. He didn't want me dead, just wanted me, but he wanted you and Sammy to think I was dead."

Dean stood gaping at the man who could be his father, hope filtering into his mind. Could it be true? Could this really be his father? The one he mourned and grieved over for so long? And if it was, where had he been all this time? Dean gently released the limp hand he had still been holding and took a step toward John, his trembling hand reaching out to touch the older man's face. John reached his own hand up and placed it over Dean's, a single tear rolling down his cheek until it came in contact with Dean's fingers.

"It's really you isn't it?" Dean whispered, his eyes never leaving John's face.

"Yeah son, it's really me," John said softly.

Dean pulled his hand away then suddenly lunged at his father, wrapping his arms tightly around the man's body and then buried his face in John's shoulder. John followed suit and hugged his oldest son tightly to him, feeling the sobs that had started to wrack Dean's body. The other hunters in the room lowered their heads, the heartbreaking scene before them making them feel like intruders.

Dean's sobs subsided and he slowly pulled away from John. John reached his hands up and held Dean's shoulders, his eyes never leaving his son's face. He smiled softly after a few moments, then his gaze shifted behind Dean to the still form that lay silently on the bed. A frown replaced the smile as he took in the pale face of his youngest son. He looked back to Dean, who lowered his red eyes to the floor.

"Dean, is Sammy okay? What happened?" John asked, waiting for Dean to look at him.

Dean slowly raised his eyes and John's heart nearly stopped at the absolute despair he saw in them.

"D-Dad...Sammy's gone. He's...he's dead. Oh God Dad, our Sammy's dead," Dean uttered softly, fresh tears spilling from his eyes.

John physically flinched, feeling as though he had been punched in the gut. He moved slowly to the bed, kneeling down beside it and taking Sam's hand into his. He reached his other hand up and gently cupped Sam's cheek, his thumb absently rubbing over his cool skin. Gazing at his baby's face, he moved his hand up and brushed the hair from Sam's eyes then took the hand he held in both his hands and brought it to his face, softly kissing it before bowing his head and beginning to cry. Dean came up behind John and rested his hand on his shoulder, then sank down next to him, his eyes resting on Sam's face.

"What happened Dean?" John asked, his voice hitching.

"He did it Dad. He defeated Azazel and the demon army. Killed every last one of those sons-a-bitches!" Dean replied, his voice full of pride.

"What? How?" John queried, staring at his still son with wonder.

"His abilities. Isaral taught him how to hone his abilities and bring forth hidden ones. He sent out a ...a shock wave is as best as I can describe it. Killed every damned demon that was marked as Azazel's, but didn't touch any humans," Dean said as he reached up to gently caress Sam's face.

"But how did he...how did this happen?" John asked, gazing sadly at Sam, his grief flowing from him in waves.

"The force of the shockwave, the strain it took to wield all of that power was too much for him I guess," Dean started, shaking his head sadly. "He knew it would kill him Dad, yet he still did it."

"What!? He knew? But, there had to be another way! Why did he do this if he knew he would die?" John cried, his eyes beseeching Dean to help him understand.

"Sam chose this way because fewer innocents would die. Any other way would have taken months or even years. He sacrificed himself so that it would be over with."

John hung his head, his grief overwhelming him. He had sacrificed himself to save one of his sons only to be given a second chance and then find out that he had lost his youngest one. His baby. John stayed in his position for several minutes, the other people in the room keeping silent out of respect. Every person in the room felt the heavy burden of grief as each one had come to love and respect the youngest Winchester, all marveling at his strength and selflessness. But none felt the loss more than his brother whose grief was so great that he was having a difficult time drawing in air.

John turned his head, glancing at Dean as he stared at his baby brother, the devastation of his loss aging his handsome face considerably. John draped his arm across Dean's back, hoping to provide some measure of comfort. Dean drew his eyes away from Sam and rested them on John.

"I don't think I can take this Dad. I don't think I can live without him. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this life he was forced to live. He was the one perfect thing in this fucked up mess of a world and now he's gone. How can I keep going on knowing he won't be beside me? I can't do it Dad, I just can't..." Dean cried, leaning into his father when John pulled him close.

"You have to keep going Dean. You have to live," John said, his voice trembling.

"Why? What's the use? He was my reason for living. He was my purpose!"

"Because, Sam would want you to live Dean. He didn't sacrifice himself just so you could give up and stop living. Dean, don't make his sacrifice be in vain. He did this as much to protect you as anybody. Don't make it be for nothing," John said, fear for his only remaining son washing over him.

"It wasn't his job to protect me! To die for me!"

"But it was to him. Dean, I know how much this hurts, believe me. Seeing my baby like this, I'm dying inside. But he made a decision and we have to respect him for it. He died so that every person on this earth could live, you being first and foremost. You have to carry on. For Sam. You have to carry on for Sam."

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So? John's explanation for where he was all this time is coming up. Please remember: reviews=love!! Take care.

Cindy.