*Creaks door open, trying to be quiet, steps out and tries to explain*

So, you see…

*Gets booed angrily*

I suck. I know. But here, AT LAST is the final chapter! THANK YOU SO MUCH ADARA! You freaking rock! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, added to alerts and faved. It is greatly appreciated and I wish I could have gotten this to all you awesome people sooner! Enjoy!

xXx

His eyes snap open. Fear clutches at his heart, cold and panicked he doesn't know where he is. It's dark, he can't see a thing. He tries to move, but he can't. Four tight walls confine him, hard and moist, it stinks of earth. His heart pounds quickly, loud thuds the only sound that fill his ears beside the hyperventilating breaths he's taking.

He screams, his voice hoarse and rough, as if unused for months. He starts pounding on the wood above him, quick and hard punches fueled by adrenaline rushed blood. He feels the wood begin to splinter beneath his bloodying knuckled, he punches harder and more furiously, fear consuming him even more as cool dirt begins to crumble on top of him. He claws at the ceiling of his grave, praying that if there is a God that he will just let him get the hell out of here, if he died once he wasn't going to die again because he couldn't dig himself out of his own grave.

He scrambles with his legs, pushing himself up toward the top, crawling through the space he made, closing his eyes soft so the soft soil doesn't get in his eyes. Hands first, he continues to dig, thankful the dirt is loose and easy enough to push through. He pushes, struggles, digs until at last his hands feel blissful air instead of slick mud. His heart leaps in joy, hope sparks and he gives a final push with his legs and pull with his arms and his head surfaces. He gasps for sweet air, taking in gulps of oxygen as he finds himself above ground in the quiet night.

He pulls the rest of himself out, head to toe he is covered in sweat and mud, but not an injury is on him. He feels his chest and relaxes as his hands fall around his amulet, one familiar thing in a world of confusion.

He stands on shaky legs, observing his surroundings he finds himself in a cemetery, his own mothers gravestone next to his own. He inches closer, but stops himself. He quickly turns around and starts toward the cemetery gates, he has to find his baby brother.

Sam was out there… Dean just had to find him.

xXx

Sam sat in the dingy living room. Streams of sunlight coming through the old and yellowed curtain, dust floating easily through the air, dancing in the warm light that managed to creep into the dark room.

Long shaggy brown hair fell down to cover his hazel eyes, a distant look fell upon them as deep thoughts ran quickly through his mind. He had killed Lilith the previous night, but when they had sped to the grave site, it was empty.

Sam shook in fear, rage, worry, hate, all emotions seeming to swarm him at once like flies to the dead. Bobby was out checking hospitals, seeing if a man was brought in anywhere. Sam wanted desperately to help, but Bobby had told him to stay, that Dean might come looking for them… if he was out there.

Sam felt himself being pulled back into the old habits of the hospitals. Memories fringed on his mind, calling him with soft warmth. Tears brimmed his eyes as he felt himself desperately wanting to go there. But he refused. Dean might be alive, and they needed each other more then he would have ever thought.

Suddenly the room seemed to hot and stuffy, to tight and claustrophobic for Sam's comfort. He stood, the wooden chair scrapping the linoleum loudly as he did so. Thin hands grabbed his cell phone as he brushed out the door, he wanted to know if Bobby found his brother, but he could no longer sit here and do nothing.

Sam locked the faded white door behind and turned to follow the walkway down to a small dirt path that led to a park near the hotel. Sam sighed and began to relax and humanity faded away and he was only left with the beauty of nature. Leaves rustled easily in the soft breeze, the scent of flowers light on the wind and the sun glowed warmly in the afternoon, seeming to welcome Sam back into the world.

In the hospital he never really though of the outside, when he did it had made him hurt so bad. He had missed it, missed this, and having it back almost seemed unreal. He touched a leaf softly, eyes studying it with gentleness, fearing if he were to rough, it would all get sucked away and he would find himself right back in the padded room.

He walked on, head down as he stared at the dirt path and his own feet that lead him down it. His thoughts began to churn, old habits of rummaging through his head with bits of information suddenly easily returning from the depths in which the hospital had buried it.

The town in which the cemetery resided was not very large, Sam clutched desperately to that fact as he hoped and prayed that they would find Dean quickly. The grave had clearly been dug out from the inside, indicating Dean had indeed crawled his way out.

Bobby had planned on staying behind at Dean's grave, but when Ruby had to mysteriously bolt, he decided having Sam's back in the distance was the safer route, the grave was less then an hour away, they figured speeding there, Dean would be okay.

Sam mentally kicked himself, he should have begged Bobby to go there, stay with Dean. But the past could not be undone. He just hoped Dean was okay.

A soft cough pulled Sam from his thoughts. He looked up, but saw no one. It had sounded close, faded, but near by. Brows scrunched in confusion, he quickened his pace to round the corner of the dirt path, large trees impairing his view of what lat beyond that. A person appeared to be huddled next to a large oak on his left, he could barely make out what they looked like, but his heart leapt in joy at the thought of it possibly being Dean. He stopped himself suddenly, afraid that if it was not Dean, getting his hopes dashed would hurt him more then ever.

He took a deep breath, straighten his shoulders and held his head a little higher. He faced the fact that it was probably not Dean, just a homeless man, and that he should just go and offer whoever it was some help.

Sam began a strong walk, and as he did the body quivered and scooted closer to the tree, fearful apparently of being seen, but not having the energy to move completely out of the way.

Sam nervously rounded in front of the person and looked down to see his face… and his world came crashing down.

It was Dean.

"… D-Dean?" Sam barely whispered, eyes beginning to shine with emotion.

The shaking head looked up, bright green eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun from behind a grimy and bloodied face.

"… Sammy?" His voice was hoarse and barely audible, but it was Dean.

The two brothers held each others eyes, neither sure that this was not some twisted dream they were experiencing while they were in their own personal hell, or real hell.

Emotions suddenly slammed them both and Sam reached down, pulling Dean up into a tight hug, not a word spoken.

Every moment spent in the hospital suddenly fell away. Every memory, hallucination or thought from that terrible time faded away as Dean's arms wrapped tightly around him, his scent from underneath the earthy cover bringing Sam well needed comfort.

The memories of months in Hell found themselves being pushed further away from Dean as he clutched desperately to his little brother, unable to comprehend how this could have happened. But he did not question it, they were both alive and well, but best of all, they were together.

xXx

After a few days of eating, sleeping and just taking in the fact that they were both okay, the brothers found themselves settling back into their old routines, Sam still found it kind of unbelievable on how either could do that after the ordeals they had gone through. They only spoke of their experiences once, there was no point in going in depth, the past was behind them and they wanted nothing to do with it.

Sam made his bed as Dean finished packing the few last things, excited to drive his precious baby for the first time since he got back. It was time to hit the road, a short vacation was in need before the next hunt, so the boys were heading to California, the beach seeming to beckon them from across the land.

"Well Sammy, it's official." Dean said as he slammed the trunk down with a grin.

The evening sunset was behind him, an array of oranges, reds, purples, blues and greens outlining his leather coat with its popped collar and spiked hair. His grin seemed to brighten the evening and his eyes danced mischievously.

Sam smiled back, feeling warmth and comfort in himself for the first time in months.

"What's that Dean?" Both climbed in the car, Dean pasing as he roared it to life and trned the radio on to find Kansas, Wayward Son playing.

"Life… is good." He grinned and gunned it, pebbles and dust flying into the wind, making the boys laugh in pure joy.

A breeze ruffled Sam's newly cut hair and his hazel eyes sparked with life, he ran a finger over the Impalas interior and he looked over at his brother.

He couldn't agree more.