Memories & Demons

by morgana07

Reeling from the deaths of Jo & Ellen, Sam & Dean must come together & get back to their roots to help a friend but Dean gets more than he bargins for. Hurt!Angsts Sam /Hurt!OC /Angsty!Protective Dean. Will have Teenchesters too! Full Summary inside.

11. Chapter 11

Memories & Demons

Chapter Eleven

A/N: Warnings: Okay, to be fair, even though it's not graphic further into the flashback abuse is shown. Like I said, it's not graphic but I want to put the warning out since I never really know what to label I thought to be safe. Thanks for reading and sorry for the wait on this update.

Flashback: Singer Salvage Yard, 1995:

"Sam! Go tell that brother of yours that if I catch him trying to kiss that girl one more time I'm takin' my heaviest skillet to the back of his skull!" Bobby Singer shouted out his door to the boy he knew was sprawled on his porch reading. "Tell him I said those rules I laid down apply to outside the damn house too!"

Poking his head up from the book he'd been reading, Sam grinned. He figured he could've asked Bobby why bother telling Dean that now when he'd been putting up with it the entire summer. "Okay but he won't like it," he called out, jumping to his feet to run out deeper into the junkyard where he knew his brother was supposed to be working on a car for Bobby.

Sam could find his brother and Morgan anywhere on Bobby's lot, which he loved doing since he knew it annoyed Dean to no end. Since arriving at Bobby's four days earlier, Sam had been wary at first since he was afraid of Bobby's reaction to the event at the truck stop but neither Dean nor Morgan had mentioned what had really happened. Dean had just made some excuse and while the hunter clearly hadn't bought it, he'd let it go…for now.

Taking a short cut to the section of the yard that Bobby had told the older Winchester to go check out a used Mustang that he might be selling. Sam knew Dean hadn't liked a lot of the rules that Bobby had laid out and he'd thought for a while that Dean would decide against staying with their friend but again it had been Morgan who had calmed Dean down.

Since the cabin, Sam knew that Dean had gotten used to it just being the three of them mainly and he was used to flirting or kissing Morgan when he'd choose, or try to kiss her since Sam had quickly realized that their friend normally wouldn't let his brother kiss her if Sam was in the room.

The no kissing rule had been one thing Dean had balked on but Sam knew the biggest rule tossed down had been the hardest since Dean and Morgan normally had the nights to themselves after Sam allowed himself to be put to bed. Unknown to either of them, Sam had often snuck out to watch his normally cocky, self-assured, Gods gift to women older brother just sitting on the sofa with Morgan curled in his arms, talking.

Since arriving at Bobby's though, it was hard for the two teens to get those moments since the older hunter decided both needed a chaperone so whenever Dean was in the yard, it was a safe bet that Morgan could be found out there as well. Even though Sam knew his friend would be leaving soon and that was something else he knew upset his brother.

Hearing voices, Sam slowed down to eye his path before grinning as he decided on a less direct way to them when he dropped to his belly to begin to crawl under the cars.

"Damn. How can the summer in the mountains be cool yet I'm burning up out here?" Dean complained, wiping sweat off his forehead with a bare arm.

"You spent time here for how long and you forgot what the summers in South Dakota are like?" Morgan teased him from where she sat on the hood of a nearby junk. "Sixteen and your memory's going, hotshot."

Laying the socket he'd been using aside to slide a look over to his friend before letting his gaze examine the pink tank top and shorts she wore. "You're the one who decided we should come to Bobby's in August, babe," he reminded her sourly but smiled a little when she laughed.

"No, I chose Bobby's because it was neutral," she returned, not wanting to bring up the fact that she needed to leave soon because she enjoyed watching Dean work while he was relaxed…especially since he'd ditched his T-shirt over the summer heat.

"Neutral?" he laughed fully, turning to lean against the Mustang to look at her. "Clearly you have not seen my Dad and Bobby go at it," he replied, wiping his hands on his t-shirt before stepping over to sit beside her after taking the water bottle she offered gratefully. "Thanks."

Drinking deeply, Dean took the time to look at Morgan more closely. It hadn't taken him long to realize that she didn't care for the heat or humidity but she coped for their sakes even though he knew she was worried about being here. He also could tell that she wasn't sleeping right or recovering from using her powers the other day.

Dean had managed to avoid Bobby's questions on why Sam was so jumpy and why Morgan had been unconscious when they'd first arrived. Then the rules he set made it hard for the sixteen year old to see that his friend was sleeping at night or that she wasn't pushing herself too hard, which he knew she was since she was the one mainly handling how jumpy Sam still was.

"So, since it's just you and me how about I give you that tour I promised?" he suggested with a smile that he always knew could make her smile back. "You've never had a junkyard tour like this."

"Yeah, I just bet," Morgan returned, easily reading through that suggestion but not feeling like calling him on it yet. "Wouldn't that also go against every single one of Bobby's rules, Dean?" she asked innocently, ticking them off on her fingers. "His no kissing, no cuddling, no touching when Sam's present or better yet don't think of touching her at all rules?"

Still not happy about those, Dean smirked and moved closer so that he could trace what appeared to be little lines on her palm with his finger. "No, because the old man outsmarted himself this time," he replied, feeling the girl lean into his shoulder. "Bobby said I couldn't kiss or touch you in his house. The junkyard isn't his house so that means…" he grinned as he slid his hand up to cup her cheek before he moved in to…

"Dean! Bobby said that if he caught you trying to kiss Morgan he'd hit you with his skillet because the yard is included in those rules he gave you."

Startled by the unexpected shout Dean nearly fell off the car as Morgan automatically moved at Sam's voice. "What? Do you have sonar radar or something, Sammy?" he demanded, giving his giggling little brother a not so subtle scowl as he looked down to see his brother's dirty face sticking out from under the car they were sitting on. "How'd you even find us?"

"I know your habits, Dean," Sam grinned, sliding out further from the car only to be pulled out quickly as Dean grabbed him. "Don't kill the messenger," he laughed, not seeing any real anger on his brother's face so he relaxed when he was set on his feet. "Besides, don't you two do that enough when Bobby goes to bed?"

Morgan groaned and slapped Dean's head lightly with an open hand. "I thought you said he was asleep," she hissed, a sudden feeling of dread filling her stomach for some reason but as Dean went to lunge for his backpeddling little brother, she chose to ignore it. "From now on, I check on Sam."

"No way, babe," Dean argued, deciding it was too hot to work on the car right then and also not liking the way Morgan's hands had started to tremble. "You check on Sam, he distracts you too much and I swear he does it on purpose…the nosy little brat."

Giving an eye roll that he knew annoyed both teens Sam shrugged innocently. "Bobby says I'm Morgan's favorite cause she spoils me," he teased, ducking Dean's lazy grab but missed the look his brother and Morgan shared and couldn't duck or move when she suddenly shifted to wrap a loose arm around his neck and messed his hair up. "Hey!"

"Of course you're my favorite, Sammy," she told him with a smile but her eyes had lifted to meet Dean's. "Your big brother just has a few other attributes that make me keep him around."

"Not that she gets to see those when I can't lose you," Dean growled in a teasing tone, grabbing his t-shirt before giving Sam a gentle shove. "Let's go back and get you cleaned up before Bobby thinks I threw you in the mud again," he decided, groaning. "Not that I don't know who gave him that idea."

Sam whirled to walk backwards while talking. "Hey! He asked me how I got muddy and I told him I was out in the yard with you and he just jumped. I didn't say that you pushed me into the mud or anything," his pretend innocence might've worked if he hadn't laughed at the same time.

"Be in the house, upstairs and in the shower before I hit the house, little brother or I will toss you in the mud," Dean promised, going to grab for him when Sam took off laughing toward the house. "He'll have me grounded within the next two days," he decided, feeling her hand slip into his for the walk back. "How much longer?"

If Morgan had any question about what he meant, she didn't let on. Instead, she let him slide an arm around her and sighed. "Probably by the weekend," she replied softly, feeling his grip tighten. "Dean, you know I can't stay once your Dad gets here. You knew that when we left the cabin."

"Yeah but that don't mean I have to like it," Dean muttered, knowing that she didn't want to leave and not understanding why his Dad's arrival should effect things. "Dad knows you're my friend and he's been nice to you so…"

Not intending to tell him the full truth about why she wanted to avoid John Winchester, Morgan had begun to offer some excuse when they both heard the loud rumble of a car and while Dean's body just went rigid, she felt cold. Time had just run out.

"Dad," Dean said the name almost like a curse when they both thought a similar thought at the same time. "Sam."

Breaking into a run to find the younger Winchester, both Dean and Morgan shared a relieved look when they cleared the lot to find Sam near the corner of the house watching the shiny black 1967 Chevy Impala come to a stop in front of the house.

Whirling, the boy's eyes showed his fear even more than the tight grip he latched onto his brother's arm with. "Dad's here," he whispered, hazel eyes going between Dean and Morgan rapidly. "Why? You said he wouldn't come this soon. Dean, you said…"

Dropping to his knees in front of the clearly frightened boy, Dean laid his hands on his brother's shaking shoulders to make him meet his eyes. "Sammy, it's alright. So Dad's…early," he wasn't any happier with that than his brother was but in his case, he had to hide it better. Looking up, he met blue eyes and was surprised to see both concern and a little fear. "Take Sam in the back way and help him get cleaned up while I handle this."

"Dean…" Morgan hesitated, knowing how dangerous this was for the boys that their Father had arrived when she was still here but not seeing a way out of it now and not wanting to leave Sam alone when he was clearly still afraid of John. "Don't do…"

Standing with his usual cocky grin that seemed forced this time, he eased his brother back to her before lightly brushing his lips over her cheek while whispering something in her ear but when he straightened, he was calm when he spoke. "Go inside. He won't do anything to me with Bobby here," he promised, seeing her doubts but then Morgan spoke to Sam as she took his hand and headed for the back door.

Alone now, Dean allowed his hands to shake at the idea of seeing his Father again for the first time in nearly three months. Pulling his t-shirt on, he took a deep breath before he headed around the house in time to hear Bobby yelling.

"Damn it, John! I said two weeks!" he groused, clearly not happy with the man's early arrival. "This ain't two weeks! What the hell you'd you? Dump that Wendigo hunt on Caleb?"

John got out of the Impala with a weary sigh. He hadn't been looking forward to the confrontation with Bobby even though he knew it was bound to happen. "We dealt with that before I decided to swing by here," he replied, groaning from the cracked rib he'd gotten on that last hunt. "So…they here or what?"

Bobby was not happy. He had wanted to give Dean and Sam more time to adjust to the idea of going back with John. The fact that Morgan was still here also was a major issue since he knew how John would probably react to the girl and how Dean would handle that. He was about to make up a lie that he'd sent the boys to Jim's for a couple days when it was taken out of his hands and he could only pray.

"Hey," Dean's voice was level despite the increased heart rate as he came around the house to stop just at the edge of the porch, being careful to keep a safe distance between himself and his Dad until he judged things.

"Hey," John returned, taking his time to close the driver's door to the Impala in order to look his oldest son over closely.

He'd expected in the three months that he'd been away from his sons that all the discipline he'd driven into Dean about constant training and exercise had been tossed out in favor of junk food and lazing about but after looking the boy over with a critical ex-Marine eye he was forced to admit to himself that Dean looked good. Hell, if John were to be honest, he'd have to say that his son actually looked better than he had before John had dropped them off with Jim. Not that he'd ever admit that to the boy though.

"So, enjoy your vacation?" he asked mildly, still steaming about that but a mild look from Bobby warned him to let it go.

Having known his Father all his life, Dean wasn't fooled by the casual words or his father's relaxed posture. John was still pissed and that warned Dean to watch his step and to keep the man away from Sam and Morgan. "Oh, y'know, I guess it was pretty good," he shrugged, moving closer but keeping his attention fixed between the front door and John. "Salted and burned a six-foot snowman, took target practice on what I swear was a Yeti or something and very nearly broke my neck when I tried to ski. All and all, it was fine. How're you, Dad?" he finally made himself ask after coming to a stop in front of the man.

"Caleb drove me nuts so that should give you a clue," John replied, noticing the way Dean held himself as if braced for an attack and he sighed when he started to move a hand towards him that both the boy and Bobby tensed. "Dean…I'm…sorry for what happened that day back in the motel," he declared. "I was tired and I just lost my temper but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Shifting his eyes to see Bobby's face, Dean merely nodded. He wasn't stupid enough to trust the sudden turn and would just keep his eyes open and be more watchful. "Yeah, whatever, Dad," he shrugged, fighting the urge not to jerk back when his father's hand clapped him on the same shoulder that he'd dislocated.

"Well, you're here so you may as well come on in," Bobby grumbled, catching the teenager's eyes for just a second to see both caution and resignation. "Where's your brother?" he suddenly remembered he'd sent the smaller Winchester out to find his brother and Morgan.

"Oh, he's in the shower," Dean replied, making sure he kept his innocent look even as Bobby turned to pin him with a hard stare. "What?"

"You didn't toss that boy in the damn mud again, did you?" the hunter demanded, swearing the two younger Winchesters would be the death of him before their Daddy was.

Throwing his hands up in defense at the question, Dean sounded indignant. "No!" he replied firmly, coughing as he added. "He just sort of crawled under the cars to scare the shit outta me and got filthy so…" he stopped himself on instinct from saying his friend's name but he still caught the way his father's back tensed and he stepped in front of the stairs leading upstairs. "No, Dad."

Bobby went on alert the second his seen this act from Dean because he knew John wasn't used to his eldest having an opinion that differed from his. Slowing, he reached for the always loaded and pumped shotgun he kept behind the front door just in case John reacted stupidly.

"You're not going to let see your brother, are you Dean?" John asked in a measured tone, not liking this attitude from Dean.

Sensing the concern being sent his way from the second floor Dean was quick to send a firm order to keep Sam upstairs as he squared his shoulders to finally lock eyes with his father. "No sir, I'm not," he admitted after several seconds. "Not yet at least. Not until we cover a couple ground rules where Sam's concerned."

"Shit," Bobby swore under his breath, figuring he wasn't going to have to wait too long to use the damn shotgun on John after all when he caught the way the other hunter tensed at the words of his son.

John honestly didn't think he could be shocked anymore until he heard those simple words spoken to him by his oldest son. While he respected the guts it had taken Dean to put himself in front of those steps, he felt his temper burn at being told there needed to be ground rules before he could see his youngest.

Dean saw the way his father's hand was clenching and unclenching and the tick in his jaw that only happened when he was angry. He'd seen the signs before but didn't move, nor did he plan to when his heart suddenly jumped to his throat.

"Dean? Sam wants you."

Spinning to see Morgan descending the stairs gave Dean his first real taste of panic since his father's arrival but he knew even as he was silently telling her to go back with Sam that she wouldn't.

Having gotten Sam showered, dressed and down into an uneasy sleep, she had felt every nerve in Dean going on edge but it wasn't until she had heard his words to John that she knew he was getting to close to being hurt again. Quickly changing into jeans and a clean t-shirt, Morgan made the choice to take the attention off of her friend even if it meant letting Dean learn why she had wanted to avoid John Winchester.

"Morg, no," Dean whispered, letting his eyes move between his friend and his father. Immediately seeing the pure hate in John's eyes at the sight of the young girl he took a step up as if to shield her from any attack even though he was still reasonably certain that not even his Dad would go that far in Bobby's house.

Being careful not to step past Dean, Morgan did allow her eyes to lock on those of John Winchester. "Hello, Mr. Winchester," she greeted softly, using the same tone she always had before when greeting the man and pretending not to see or feel his animosity as she returned her attention to Dean. "Dean, Sammy was tired after his commando raid earlier but he wanted to see you before he'd crash," she offered in explanation even though he could see that his brother was already asleep and wanted no such thing.

"Uh, yeah," he replied slowly, moving up the steps but frowned when he realized that she wasn't following. "Morgan?"

"Go see Sammy, Dean. I'll be up in a second," Morgan told him easily, masking the concern she felt with a smile so much like the one he always offered her. "Sam left something in the living room and I told him I'd get it."

Hesitating for just a second, Dean shot Bobby a desperate look that pleaded with him to watch out for her before heading up to check on his brother.

Moving quickly into the library/den to grab the blanket Sam still carried with him, Morgan wasn't surprised to find John blocking her path. "You have issues other than the ones we know you do?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded tightly, fighting his basic urge to pull the knife he carried.

"I'm here because your sons asked to stay a couple days," she replied easily, watching his body language to see the tell signs of what he was considering. "If you would've showed up when Bobby told you to I'd've been long gone so now you hold your tongue and don't reach for that knife like you're thinking about and I'll be gone in the morning. Until then…cope with me but…" she stopped after she'd gotten past him to pause on the steps. "Same rules apply, John. If you ever put your damn hands on either of them it'll be the last thing you do."

Bobby's hand latched onto his friend. "Let her go, John," he ordered seriously, steering the man into the main living room since it was farther from the steps and right then he wanted distance between John and the kids. "You just settle down, give Dean some space and things will level off but only if you keep your damn temper and you don't go making any stupid mistakes."

Sitting down on the couch with a curse, John's eyes lifted to the ceiling and he knew what he had to do. It was only a matter of removing his oldest from the equation.

"Yeah, gotta get the bloody hell out of here before…hey!" Morgan had been heading to take the blanket to Sam and Dean's room. She'd just been walking past the room that Bobby had given her to use for her stay, once he'd gotten over the choking fit Dean's suggestion had caused, when an unexpected hand reached out to yank her into the room. "What the bloody…"

Tensing only briefly until she recognized the firm arm that had wrapped itself around her waist a half second before the door shut and she found herself pushed back against it with a kiss finding her lips that told of his frustration and concern.

"What were you thinking?" he demanded after easing back but still not moving his arms from around the younger girl. "Dad's still pissed and I had just made me madder. His entire attitude toward you has changed since Sam's birthday which makes me wonder if something else is going on that no one's tellin' me about," Dean's eyes were firm as they sought hers but all the teenager saw was exhaustion in eyes that he'd grown used to seeing as bright and alive. "You're not sleeping again, are you?"

Being away from the open hostility she'd picked up from John and feeling secure with Dean, Morgan struggled to hide the yawn that wanted to come as she tried to slip out of his arms only to find them holding her still with no trouble. "Sure, I sleep. What else can I do around here?" she countered, feeling on edge for the first time when she realized that she couldn't break Dean's embrace. "You planning on letting go?"

"Not really," he replied calmly, remembering his fear when he realized that Sam had not only not been asking for him but was sleeping soundly made his hands want to tremble since he had then understood that the girl had lied to him in order to get him away from John. "You lied to me, Angel."

"No, I kept you from getting your face punched again," Morgan countered, again trying to push him back only to have her friend lean in closer. "Dean…"

Knowing he was pushing his luck, Dean still could see the hate in his father's eyes when he had seen Morgan. There have been very few things that he had seen his Dad look at with such hate and none of those things were still breathing. "I don't want to see you hurt," he told her while letting his fingers move up to stroke gently and felt how tired she really was. "You've been keeping Sam from having nightmares," he suddenly realized, nearly swearing the moment she tensed and making up his mind. "You're going to bed."

A quick burst of laugher escaped before she could stop it, placing her hands on his shoulders to push but was expecting Dean's sudden move to lift her up enough in his arms that they were eye level. "Y'know, I think I told you about picking me up, Winchester," she snapped, seeing his smirk. "Dean, put me down…now."

"Sure, Morg. Just as soon as you go to sleep," he shot back, hating what he was about to do but not seeing another option. He could feel how cold her hands were becoming again and he knew that meant she'd been using too much power again and he knew why.

Bobby's rules kept them apart at night. Sam had gotten used to, if he had a bad dream, finding them and going back to sleep. Under Bobby's roof, the only way Morgan could assure that Sam slept through the night without any bad dreams was to stay awake and soothe his dreams herself. Still being weak from using her abilities on him up in the cabin, this had made her nearly back to the same state she'd been in the night Dean had first kissed her and he wasn't going to see her like that again. Especially not now that his father was in the damn house.

Letting his hand stay on her face, Dean's smile was one that Morgan hadn't seen him use before and that worried her. Normally, even when it was just them, his smile was part smirk and part cocky arrogance. That smile she was used to. That smile relaxed her. This gentle sweet smile that almost appeared shy scared her to death because Dean was never shy but before she could begin to see what he was planning she felt his lips brush against her hair and his voice was a whisper in her ear.

"Sleep," he whispered, feeling her jerk upon realizing what he was planning but he simply shifted her in his arms so he could pick her up fully. "You're too weak, Morgan. You've stayed awake to help Sammy and now you're probably one more night, two max, before you crash again," Dean's voice was quiet as he sat on the edge of the bed with his friend still in his arms. "You're sick, I'm not and…I know how to work that link. Now, you're going to go to sleep for a couple hours."

Swearing at herself for ever showing him how to use the link that was formed between them when she'd healed him once, Morgan tried to stay awake because she didn't want to sleep in this house. Almost as if he knew why she was fighting it, Dean shook his head and held her as he had Sammy when he'd been smaller.

"I won't let you be hurt while you're sleeping, babe," he promised her, easing her back on the bed before reaching for the quilt on the bottom of the bed. "No one will hurt you or Sammy tonight."

Morgan's eyes tried to stay open but Dean had been true to his word and she slowly felt herself drifting under until all she could feel was the warmth of his hand on hers. "Stay."

"Yeah, I'll stay," Dean assured her, sitting back next to her and deciding Bobby could try to force him out but until Sam woke up, he was staying right here or he was until he heard John shouting for him. "Shit!"

Hesitating, Dean considered ignoring the shout until he decided that he did not want his Dad coming upstairs after him. He didn't want him upstairs that close to either his friend or his brother. "I'll be right back, Morg," he whispered, gently brushing a finger over the necklace he'd given her before easing the door closed to go to see what his father wanted. "Yeah?" he asked wearily.

"Dean, I forgot to pick up some stuff in town before I came out," John tossed his startled son the keys to the Impala. "Take the car and go get it."

Seeing Bobby's equally surprised look, Dean caught the keys but hesitated. "Dad…I shouldn't…" he began, seeing the way his father's eyes narrowed and not wanting to start a fight yet. Looking upstairs, he figured Sam would probably sleep for awhile yet and Dean was confident that Morgan would sleep through this brief trip to town. "Fine but…let Sam sleep," he declared, waving a hand absently. "He…worked out a lot the past couple days and he's tired. I'll get him up once I get back."

"Fine, I'll leave your brother alone," John sighed, handing him a list and some money. "He'll be fine, Dean. Just go get that stuff for me."

Something didn't feel right about this but Dean pushed it aside, figuring the sooner he left the quicker he'd get back and offered a silent message to his sleeping friend as he left in the Impala, not thinking to question John's sudden attitude change as he worked on figuring out a way to keep his growing relationship with Morgan intact.

"John, what the hell are you doing?" Bobby demanded, not liking the man's new attitude or the way he kept looking up the steps. "John, why'd you send Dean into town?" he wanted to know, afraid that he suspected but wanted to hear the man say the words before he shot him.

Taking his time to reply, John slowly looked at his friend with a calm expression. Too calm for the other hunter. "I can't have that thing influencing my son, Bobby," he replied seriously, reaching for his bag. "She's dangerous and something that I should've killed the first night I met her. While Dean's gone and Sam's asleep, I'm going to take care of their little friend."

"You're going to…" Bobby actually blanched at that thought, not certain the man was serious until he saw John take out a gun. "John! She's a fourteen year old girl for God's sake!" he shouted, grabbing for the gun. "You ain't killing her. It would destroy Dean and you'd lose him for sure!"

"Bobby, I can handle my son," John replied easily, confident of that since he'd already worked on that excuse. "I just need you to…"

Staring at John as if he'd grown another head, Bobby laughed in his face. "You ain't touchin' that girl in my house, John and if you try, I'll put a damn bullet in you like I promised to do," he growled, grabbing the gun away from him and storming out the back door while muttering about morons.

"Damn it, Bobby, you just don't get it," John sighed, rubbing a hand over tired eyes when he heard a step sound in the door to the living room.

"You're not hurting Morgan."

Whirling at the small voice that spoke from behind him, John was a little surprised to see his youngest son standing there and much like he had with Dean, he gave Sam a critical once over.

John noticed that Sam still looked half-asleep as he stood there but he also noticed the determined stance the boy had. "You don't know what she is, Sam," he replied, taking a step as if to go by the boy since he knew he could handle her if he could take her by surprise and before she could use those damn powers. "She's what we hunt and you're brother should've slit her throat by now."

Knowing where his father was going and what he planned to do but not knowing where his brother was, Sam reacted on pure instinct. He wasn't going to let his Dad hurt Morgan the way he'd hurt Dean so before he could even take into account the risk to himself, Sam shoved John back as hard as he could. "No!" he shouted, hoping Bobby was close. "You aren't hurting Morgan, Dad! You aren't making her leave Dean! I won't let you!"

The unexpected, if ineffectual, attack by his younger son only served to prove to John that the girl upstairs was a threat to his boys. He couldn't afford to have Dean's head turned around by a pretty face much less one who had powers like the things John had raised his boys to kill. He also had enough discipline problems with Sam to allow this behavior.

"Sam! I know what's best now go outside while I take care of this so it's done before Dean gets back!" John snapped, grabbing the boy's shoulder to make a point when Sam responded to a well placed kick to a center nerve in his father's leg that shocked the hunter. "Sam!"

"NO!" Sam shouted, fear nibbling in the back of his mind but the fear for his friend was more intense and so he fought back as hard as he could. "She's our friend! If it hadn't been for Morgan, Dean woulda died from what you did to him! Dean loves her and she…" realizing that might have been something he shouldn't have let slip, the boy cut off with breaths coming in gasps. "Just leave her alone, Dad or…"

The hard back hand took the boy by surprise and he was knocked backwards into the living room. "I'm your father, Sam," John growled, furious at this behavior especially since he'd hoped Sam would've learned something about what happened if he disobeyed. "I say what happens. I say that thing upstairs is going to die and if you don't want to end up in a lot worse shape than your brother was you'd better learn to keep your mouth shut!" he snapped, reaching down to grab the boy by the collar when a sudden burning pain slashed over his palm.

"Not…again," Sam whispered, clearly afraid but knowing that he had to protect his friend until Dean got back from wherever he was and praying that was soon. "You…won't hurt us again. Morgan said you can't hurt us anymore. She promised that she wouldn't let you hurt De'n no more or…"

Swearing violently, John saw red. Grabbing the knife away easily, he was disgusted at how easy it was to disarm the boy and decided it was time Sam learned what it meant to pull a weapon on an opponent. "You never draw a weapon unless you mean to kill with it!" he snapped, grabbing his son up easily by the throat to slam him forcibly back against the mantle on the fireplace in the living room, not hearing or not caring about the tiny cry in the background. "You pull a damn knife on your father then you'd better be prepared to keep it!" he was furious, even more so than he had been with Dean. He continued to take out his rage over the events of the summer to this final act of disobedience out on his twelve-year-old son until he dropped the now still boy on the floor but kicked him into the side. "You don't ever raise your voice to be, Sammy! You don't ever pull a weapon on me or I'll make damn certain you don't ever see your brother again!" he promised, drawing his leg back to kick the now sobbing boy again when he was shoved across the room and into a heavy glass curio case.

"Sam, get upstairs and lock your door," Morgan ordered as she stepped into the living room, knowing she barely had the energy right now to offer a small shield for the boy much less handle his enraged father. "Go, Sam!" she snapped, wanting him out of the path of violence while offering a silent curse to both Dean and Bobby for leaving Sam alone like this.

Seeing him struggle to his feet, Morgan kept her eyes on John as she knelt to help Sam up and as she did she caught the full violent onslaught of the abuse this boy had just endured and all the rage and hate she had for John Winchester tripled.

Risking taking her eyes off the father for just a moment, she gently laid her hands on Sam's shoulders to feel them trembling and that's when she saw the blood on his back and side. "You son of a bloody bitch," she hissed through clenched teeth, knowing the back wound had come from him being slammed into the mantle repeatedly but the cut on his side… "Go, Sammy," she whispered tightly, seeing and understanding his terror.

This was the first time Sam had seen his father like this. Any other time, Dean had sent him off to play or get ice cream or anything just so Sam wasn't around to witness one of John's rages. This time, she could guess what had happened to Dean and cursed herself for being so stupid that she hadn't seen it before. "Go upstairs or find Bobby, Sammy," she told him quietly, feeling queasy suddenly and only barely caught the flash of pure panic in the boy's face.

"Morgan!" Sam screamed upon seeing his father lunge with the knife in his fist, trying to get in between his friend and the blade. "Dad, No!"

"Sammy!" Morgan had caught the glint of the blade and only had a split second to react to remove Sam from danger since she knew she'd never be able to summon any power that fast.

Pushing Sam to one side and behind her, the teenager's momentum took her too far around and she felt the blade go through her shoulder and wasn't quite quick enough to still the cry of pain that came. "Sam, run!" she gasped out, willing the scared boy to run and was relieved when he finally managed to run out of the room yelling for Bobby Singer or Dean. "You…sent Dean out, right?"

Glaring with murder in his eyes at her, John shifted the knife in his hand for a better grip. "I knew he'd object to me killing you so I sent my son into town and by the time he gets back, it'll be…argh!" a sharp pain went up his leg but not enough to make him fall or drop the blade. "If Dean's too stupid not to see what you are then he isn't the hunter I trained him to be!"

"Dean's…a better man at sixteen than you'll…ever be," she gritted, right arm useless and forced to keep her left hand on her shoulder to keep it from bleeding out too fast. "You kill me and my mates will make sure you don't live the week. You don't think Dean'll know something from Sam?"

"Not if he wants to keep his brother," John replied, seeing her eyes jump to his at that. "They're my boys and I may have to put up with Bobby and Jim's interference but I'll be damned if I'll see my oldest going around with someone no better than what I hunt," he stated coldly, beginning to reach down to grab her while going on. "If Dean wants to be with you then I'll make damn sure he never sees Sam again. I'll either send Dean away to Caleb or Jim or since he's close to being seventeen, I'll just take Sammy and go."

The burning pain in her shoulder was nothing to the now building panic in her heart. With anyone else she'd say they were bluffing with that threat but Morgan could tell that John Winchester wasn't bluffing. He would either take Sam away or make it impossible for Dean to see his brother again. However, right then she had a more immediate problem: staying alive long enough to fix this.

John's fingers had just grabbed her by the shirt to pull the girl up in order to make his next strike with the knife easier when her eyes seemed to spark. "You'll bleed out before you get enough power to do to me what you did before."

"I don't have to stop you," she gritted, closing her eyes just as a sudden bright flash of white bombarded the living room and the sound of Bobby Singer shouting as he slammed in the front door happened all at once. "Dev, don't kill him!"

A burst of blue like fire had forcibly hurled John away from the bleeding girl to slam him up against the ceiling before pinning him to the mantle. "What? Why the hell not?" Devan MacShayne demanded as he appeared a second ahead of Bobby. "You're bleeding, the emotions in this house are like knives to my head and shouldn't there be an older boy somewhere in the middle of this mess?" he demanded all at once.

"What in God's name happened in here?" Bobby took one look at the damage in his house, to the blind fury in John's eyes and to Morgan's bleeding shoulder to throw a harsh oath out. "Damn it! What the hell did you do, John?"

"Kinda what I want to know, old man," Devan snapped, eyes going between his friend and the furious hunter who was struggling uselessly. "Dude, I could snap your bones with a flick of a finger and I'm tempted," he warned coldly, looking around the room before getting an idea of what went on. "This is out of your control now, Morg. Let me get you out."

Morgan was batting a concerned but still growling Bobby away after he'd helped her to stand shakily. "Keep him down here and fix the damage," she replied, forcing the pain aside as she willed the bleeding to stop before heading for the steps. "I…need to check on…Sam."

"You…stay away from…my son you no…" John's words cut off when the young man's hand clenched to make the energy holding him react.

"Keep talkin' Winchester and I'll make your sons orphans…which considering things might not be a bad plan," Devan decided, watching as his friend stumbled more than walked from the room before looking at Bobby. "So, you got a clue or do I turn him into something nasty before I fix your house?"

Shaking his head and ignoring the fact that this kid even got into his house, Bobby glared at John as he grabbed the knife. "Goddamn you, John! I told you not to pull this crap and what's she mean that she had to check on Sam?"

"Your pal here did something to the little one which set the boss off or so I'm seeing from the room," Devan didn't think informing Bobby of the exact details would be wise yet so as he easily kept John pinned he went about fixing the damage that had been done even though he couldn't see the reason.

Hearing Bobby's voice grow louder, Morgan tuned it out as she made it upstairs to find Sam curled on Dean's bed, crying.

"Sammy," she murmured, sitting down beside him only to fight the urge to either pass out or scream when the boy suddenly threw himself into her arms with a pained sob. "It'll be alright, Sammy. Dean'll make it better when he gets back."

Sniffling, Sam looked up at her through large wet puppy dog eyes that showed his pain and fear. "Dad'll hurt…De'n like he hurt you," he cried, rubbing his eyes. "I don' care if he hurts me but…"

Taking a closer look, Morgan noticed the bruises the boy was going to have on top of more serious wounds that she knew would haunt him. She also knew the very first second his brother noticed these that Dean would lose it.

Thinking on John's threat, she chewed her lip while lightly rubbing soothing circles over the boy's back as she had often seen Dean do. Sam and Dean were so closely devoted to one another that neither would be able to stand losing the other. She also knew that if Dean learned about John's threat or what he did to Sam just now, that he'd either take his brother and run or try to kill their Father. Still hearing the unspoken threat in the man's voice, she considered her choices before finally making one that she could only hope Dean would forgive her for.

"Sammy, I need you to listen to me," she began quietly, pushing her bleeding shoulder aside to concentrate on her friend. "I know you're scared and I can't tell you not to be but it'll be better when you wake up."

"Don' wanna sleep," Sam replied sleepily, his pain and the shock of what he'd seen today making him fall to sleep slowly but he tried to keep his eyes open to watch her. "Wanna be with you and De'n. Dad's makin' you leave and De'n…"

Morgan fought the pain those simple words caused even as she lightly let her fingers card through Sam's hair to help him sleep, taking a deep breath she felt the small amount of energy that she forced to come tingle in her hand as it soothed. "I'm sorry, Sammy," she whispered, not bothering to hide the tears that came. "You won't understand and Dean may hate me but I…I can't let John split you up. I can't let him take away the only good thing Dean still has and I can't let you remember what you saw downstairs because you've seen too much already."

Soothing Sam's fears didn't take too much power, nor did healing the many new cuts, bruises and other injuries he'd sustained. What took the most energy that she really didn't have was making certain the 12-year-old boy didn't remember his father's rage at him or the brutal attacks he'd witnessed. Morgan didn't like to do this but in order to protect Sam she didn't see another option.

"Shh, Dean'll be here when you wake up, Sam," she promised him, continuing to sit beside Sam to be sure he'd stay asleep, Morgan reached for a small notepad on the nightstand to write a note to Dean. Cursing the tears that fell on the paper, she brutally slashed them away with her still mobile hand before folding the note up.

Refusing to tell him about his father's threat or the attack, Morgan just hoped he could understand through what she did write that leaving like this was the hardest thing she could do. "Take care of Dean, Sammy," she whispered to the boy, placing a kiss on his forehead and closing the bedroom door silently as she headed back to the living room.

"God, can't I reduce him to dust or something?" Devan was whining since his temper was becoming frayed by John's threats and yelling. "I promise I'll fix the stain or hole I make?"

"Give me a second to think on that, kid," Bobby growled, furious with John and furious with himself that he'd left those kids alone for this to happen when he looked up to feel his stomach clench. "Sam sleeping?"

Morgan's face was paler than it had been and he could tell that she was favoring that right arm when she stepped into the living room, her eyes, which showed the signs of exhaustion and shock, locked on John Winchester. "Let him go."

"Huh?" Both Devan and Bobby blinked at that order but the girl snapped her fingers to take the choice away from the young mystic. "Fine, but if he moves toward you I wipe him from the Earth!" Devan snapped, not liking the tone he was hearing or the lack of power he was seeing and knowing she'd done something else.

As John slumped to the floor, he started to move when the cocking of a pistol made him look up to see that Morgan had taken the one that Bobby kept in a side table and it was currently held in her unstable left hand.

"Fine, here's the deal," she began quietly, holding his eyes. "I'm walking outta here and I'll…stay away from your sons like you want and I won't ever pick up a phone if Dean calls or call Dean again," she swallowed the tears that threatened her voice, going on in a harder tone and shifted the pistol to aim at his heart. "However, all bets are off if I ever hear or find out you touched one of them again. You can try to kill me but I will kill you if I ever find out you laid your damn hands on Dean or Sam again," turning away before John could see the tears in her eyes that this decision caused, she held out the note to Bobby. "Make sure Dean gets this. I might not be able to say goodbye like he'd want but I won't let him think I just split either."

"Kid…" Bobby hated the pain he was seeing on her when he knew the anger he'd be dealing with in Dean as soon as the boy got back to find this out. "Wait for Dean…don't go…"

Morgan laughed bitterly, knowing and not caring that Devan had placed himself between her and John. "I stay, either me or him won't make it out of this room," she told him realistically, giving the older man a tired smile that told him more than the last few days could. "Tell Dean to take care of…our Sammy or I'll kick his butt from here to Florida. Tell him…well, I guess that part won't matter once he gets back but tell him that…just tell Dean to be careful cause I won't have his back anymore."

Bobby watched as the teenage girl seemed to want to say something else but finally nodded to Devan who shot both hunters a warning look before snapping his fingers and taking his friend out of the house without another word. "You stupid son of a bitch," he growled, turning to throw a fist into John's face. "If it weren't for those boys I'd toss your ass outta my house and tell you never to show back up, John!" jerking a frustrated hand up to yank his trucker cap off. "Those boys don't have jack squat in their lives that's good and you just cost Dean the one thing besides Sam that he'd gained!"

"I won't have my son with something like that," John muttered, rubbing his jaw to shove past Bobby. "I'm going to take a shower and change. Tell me when Dean comes back and then you don't have to worry cause I'm taking the boys and leaving."

"Like hell you are," Bobby mumbled under his breath, starting to look at the note when John's hand suddenly snatched it and tossed it into the fire. "John! The boy deserves to…"

Staring at the burning letter, John walked out. "I'll tell Dean what he needs to know and nothing more, Bobby because I wasn't kidding when I said that I'd take Sammy and go," he warned, making sure his friend understood the meaning of those words. "Dean'll either listen to me on my terms or he can go his way without anything from anybody."

Scowling, the older hunter did understand and was half tempted to call the man's bluff if he thought for a second John had been bluffing. Torn between calling Jim Murphy and just beating the crap out of John, he suddenly understood why Morgan had that boy fix the damage and he groaned. 'This is gonna backfire in all their faces,' he sighed, whirling when he heard a shout and something slam. "John?"

Feeling a little bad at how he'd snapped on Sam, John was going to check on his son when he felt burning eyes on him as he climbed the steps. Looking up he caught sight of Sam sitting on the landing with his fists clenched in his lap. He also noticed the boy didn't show a single damn bruise. "Sam, what're you doing up?"

"You made her leave," Sam mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before staring at his father with more hatred than any twelve-year-old should have. "Morgan's gone and you made her leave."

"Sam, we were over this," John sighed, stepping up to the landing to have his son jump to his feet. "That girl, she wasn't normal. She's what we hunt. If you and Dean kept associating with her, other hunters would come after you for her being a freak and you don't want to see your brother touching something…"

"I hate you!" Sam had known something was off when he woke up and a quick look in the room that Morgan was using showed it empty gave him the final clue. A tiny little voice in the back of his said that something else was going on but he ignored it in favor of sitting in the shadows on the second floor to listen to the conversation going on below him. He'd known fear and silent bitterness since his father had dumped them on Pastor Jim but nothing like what bloomed inside him now.

His brother had been happy. Sam knew that once Dean learned of this that his happiness would vanish again and he'd go back to being moody and sarcastic all the time. "I. Hate. You!" he screamed, not caring if he was too close to the top step or not or what may happen to him. "You made her go! Morgan isn't a freak! She's our friend!"

"Sam!" John shifted before the boy's lunge could shove him down the steps, grabbing Sam's shoulder to keep him from falling as well but grunted when his son moved with more agility than he'd ever seen him use before to begin lashing out blindly with fists that weren't used to hand to hand. "Sam, stop it!" he snapped, finally having enough and grabbing him by the front of his shirt to shove him hard against the wall. "Sammy! Stop it, damn it!"

Furious at the boy's reaction to this, John's hand slapped before his mind could think and like so many other times when his anger took control he lost awareness until a hand grabbed his fist in a vice-like grip and a firm, strong body got between him and his son.

"That's enough, John!" Bobby shouted, breaking the grip John had on Sam's shirt to shove the senior Winchester toward the steps. "You get the hell outta my house until you cool yourself off or by God I'll fill you so full buckshot…" he growled, keeping himself between John and Sam. "Go, John! NOW!"

Waiting until he'd heard the front door slam to kneel next to Sam to see several bruises with a trail of blood from his mouth, Bobby cursed under his breath while getting the boy to his feet. "Let's get these cleaned up before Dean gets back here and blows up for more than he's going to.

"Dad's gonna lie to Dean, ain't he?" Sam asked, sitting still to allow Bobby to check the bruise on his neck. "If I tell Dean the truth, will he believe me or…Morgan won't ever come back, will she?"

"Sam…I don't know, Sam," Bobby admitted grimly, hearing the sound of the Impala returning and figuring what John would tell his oldest even before he heard the first shout. "Damn it."

Dropping his eyes to the picture in his hand, Sam's lip trembled. "You think she'll forget us?"

Such a simple question and the hunter couldn't work up an answer for the boy, wincing as the front door opened and slammed shut, followed by the sound of running feet up the steps. "Sam, I don't think that girl could ever forget you…or your brother," he finally responded, standing as the bedroom door flew open.

"Sam," the voice was rougher than normal and Bobby could almost feel the emotion pouring off the older boy as he came over to drop onto the bed next to his brother.

Figuring John had spun a tale so think with lies and half-truths to get Dean to be this calm yet to have anger seeping off of him, Bobby left the brothers before he said something that would make it worse but as he did he heard Dean's last words.

"I'll make it better, Sammy. One of these days, I'll make all of this better and I'll get her back."

Present Day, Singer Salvage:

Eyes snapping open with a painful gasp, Dean suddenly remembered why he hated Angels of any kind. "Cause every goddamn time one touches me I end up worse off than before," he muttered, pushing up slowly until he could sit up without the world spinning and leaned back against a car.

Looking around, he remembered the visit by Lucifer and getting zapped into the flashback from hell that once again made him wish he could've done more damage to his father when something in his hand made him look down. Frowning at the crumpled and yellowed piece of note paper, Dean felt his jaw clench when he unfolded it to recognize Morgan's shaky handwriting and he knew what this was.

Dean, I know you're gonna be mad when you get back and read this but…I couldn't wait for you. I have to go and I don't know when or if I'll get to see you or Sammy again. This isn't like the other times, Dean. Your Dad knows what I am and…if I don't leave or if you see me again…I just don't want you to lose him. Sammy needs you, Dean. Don't ever let John make you think otherwise. He said he'd take Sammy away, Dean and I can't let that happen so I've left. Yeah, a coward's way out maybe but all the power in the bloody world can't stop him from hurting Sam if he wanted to.

Sam's sleeping now and I hope he stays asleep until you get back…where the bloody hell are you anyway, Dean? Tell him I'm sorry and I hope you don't hate me too much but I had to do what I could to protect you. I'm…sorry and…I…guess it's silly to say it on paper when I was too afraid to say it to you but…I loved you and I hope you find happiness one day. Don't let John turn you too much and watch out for Sammy or I'll kick your…

Staring at the paper with burning eyes, Dean noticed the stains on the paper and he knew she'd been crying when she wrote this. He also guessed she'd written in with her left hand since the letters were slanted at an odd angle in comparison to her normal handwriting.

Remembering every single image from that memory rush, he struggled to bury the rage at his father for touching his brother. The rage he felt at himself for believing what his father had told him and for not seeing the shadows in Sam that night even when the smaller boy had slipped out of their room to crawl into Morgan's bed and the way Bobby made sure John wasn't alone with Sam.

" 'Dean, ain't nothin' in this life your Daddy's takin' you down black and white,'" Bobby had told him two days later when they left his place. " 'There's a lot of gray and a lot of lies so you just make sure you know what's what when the time comes.'"

Slipping the note into his pocket, he let his head rest against the car until he heard a sound that he prayed he'd never hear again…the howl of a hellhound.

Blood going to ice, Dean's memory began to return and he heard Lucifer's last few words. "Sammy," he whispered, thinking of his brother out in the junkyard without his memories being tracked by Meg and those damn hellhounds when another thought slammed him.

Morgan was looking for Sam without any clue to the danger that was around them. He knew should could probably handle Meg but the thought of the young woman, who still didn't have full power back, facing down hellhounds for his brother brought memories of Carthage, Missouri back and he remembered hearing Jo scream as she was ripped up by one and…

"No," he gritted, dragging himself to his feet to find the shotgun he'd dropped. "Not again. I won't lose anyone else I love to those damn dogs or to those damn bastards," Dean swore to himself, feeling his head swim but shrugging it off as he took off in the direction that he had figured his brother would be going while hoping Morgan could hear him with his head ringing so bad. "Morgan!"

The back part of Bobby's junkyard had always been the safest since no one hardly came out this far. Sam had discovered this as a child when he'd want to be alone or after a fight with his Dad or anything. He and Dean used to play in or around these cars all the time so Sam had always known the ones that were safe and the ones that weren't.

When he'd run from Bobby's house he'd instinctively knew where to come to feel safe until his brother or their friend could come for him. The lot, however, seemed different to him. The cars he'd always played on or hidden in weren't here which left him more confused than he already was.

Tired and in pain, Sam finally slumped down on the ground against the side of a gold Honda Civic to think. His head hurt so bad along with everything else that Sam didn't understand. He didn't remember being hurt this bad by his Dad. He also didn't understand the dreams or images that were flashing in his mind of things that scared him.

He'd dreamed such awful dreams lately but it was him when it couldn't have been him and that left him even more afraid. He could see himself leaving his father…leaving Dean to go to college, but he'd never leave his brother behind. Sam had promised Morgan to take care of Dean but he saw himself all grown up with a pretty blond girl that…

Flashes of fire, of screams tore into his mind. He remembered Dean…he remembered…what the hell did he remember and…

"Argh!" Sam grabbed his head as his mind was suddenly bombarded with images of school, of…Jess, of the night Dean came to…Stanford because their Dad was missing and… "Oh, God,"

"Poor, poor baby," a mocking voice drew his eyes up even as he heard a growl that froze his blood. "You probably have all those nasty memories running loose in that great big giant brain and don't know what any of 'em are, don't you, Sammy?" Meg teased, standing a few feet from Sam and smiling at his confused look. "Like you don't even know me, do you?"

Sam stared at the brown haired woman and images of another time, another place, another woman shot into his thoughts. He'd left Dean to go find their Dad on his own, a blond girl alongside a road and…pain burned through him as he groaned but a snarl from an invisible dog made him stare.

The growls scared him. He couldn't see the dog it came from and it didn't sound too big but the very sound itself was like nails on a chalkboard to him and flashes of Dean being tore to shreds hit him. "No…Dean, no!" he forced the heels of his palms against his eyes to try to block out the images of holding his brother's body or of…

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, what am I going to do with you?" Meg smiled, kneeling down to look at the young man. "Bet if you still had all that yummy demon blood surging in you that this wouldn't be happening to you," she taunted him, reaching out to pet one of the hellhounds before letting it go. "Don't worry, they won't kill you…like they did with Dean or that pretty little blond you had in Carthage…not that you remember that day cause you don't."

Sam jerked away from the snarl that was right next to him but some deeper instinct had him staying still instead of running like he knew he probably should. "I'm…not afraid of you," he responded finally, guessing he should be but he knew he wasn't alone. I'm not alone either."

Very amused by the tone, Meg laughed until she had to wipe her eyes. "Sammy, your big brother is so not an issue this time. Dean's not coming to save you," she told him, expecting to see eyes wide with fear or something but when Sam's hazel eyes lifted to her again she only saw a small smile. "What? You think I'm kidding? My father handled Deano, Sammy," she remarked with a smirk, seeing him jerk when one of her pets nipped the thigh that had already been tore by black dogs. "You're all alone with me and my puppies."

"No, I'm not…Meg," Sam spoke back, saying her name finally as something else flickered briefly in his eyes.

Not liking Sam's tone suddenly or the way he was looking at her as if his memories of her had surfaced thinly, Meg slipped a knife from under her short jacket and took a step toward Sam. "Oh, I think those pesky memories are playing tricks on you, Sammy-boy," she remarked. "It's just you, me, and my puppies out here and you are going to scream for…" another step when she hit a static charge that made her gasp.

"Oh, I so do not think so, bitch," Morgan remarked from directly behind her, voice serious and blue eyes cold as she took in the scene in front of her.

The young British woman had felt the change in the area as well as feeling Dean's anxiety levels increase but she knew Sam was in the most danger. The demon wearing young woman wasn't a threat since she wasn't in the same power range as Morgan even with weakened abilities. The threat that did or had concerned Morgan was when she heard the first hellhound. Dealing with a demon, protecting Sam and coping with the mutts from Hell could have been a problem.

Until she came around the corner to take in the group and while she was probably one of the few people alive who could see a hellhound normally, even Morgan had to stop and nearly gawk this time.

"You are kidding me, right?" she asked, looking between Meg and the hounds. "You seriously expect anyone to be scared of them?"

Meg scowled, not expecting to face someone not afraid of either her or the hounds as she ran a hand over one of the hounds heads. "Sweetie, Sammy's off limits but my Father said you weren't," she threatened, showing her knife and not having any fear about turning her back on Sam in this state. "One word and they'll rip into you like Lilith's pets did to Dean or…" a sharp burning light ripped into her shoulder. "That hurt!"

"Really? Well, that isn't anything compared to what I will do to you," Morgan shot back, eyeing the dogs again before sticking her tongue in her cheek. "Yeah, they sound ferocious," she agreed before she had to laugh. "Except your petting thin air since that dog's barely a foot off the damn ground. What's Lucifer doing? He wants me and Dean out of the way so he sends some demon chippie that Dean's mopped the floor with before and…what the bloody hell are these? Hell-Yorkies or something?" rolling her eyes, Morgan knelt while keeping a sharp eye between Meg and Sam to hold her hand out with a thin smile. "C'mere."

Sam's eyes watched his friend kneel and call something that was growling yet he couldn't see it to her, fear curling in him as memories of Dean…dying flooded his mind, memories of Jo… "Morgan, no!"

"Stay where you are, Sam," she called out, not moving her eyes from Meg who was frowning even more as she watched one of the fierce new Hellhounds of her Father actually go toward the outstretched hand. "Well, aren't you a…pretty won't be the word I'd use but you are a cute little bugger," Morgan let the little tongue lick her hand before she had to stare when the hellhound, who looked more like a mixed up Yorkie from Hell, fell on the ground and rolled over. "Yeah, this lot'll tear people up as soon as they're done getting their bellies scratched," she decided, standing to face Meg. "I can name a couple Angels that are more fierce then these pups. Wanna back off?"

"You…no one can see…" Meg stared at the young woman blankly before she screamed in anger and lunged with the knife. "Sammy belongs to…"

"No one," Morgan countered, stepping to one side easily before she grabbed Meg by a handful of long hair, tripped her legs out from under her and before she hit the ground stuck the Enochian inscribed blade into her chest.

Meg gasped as the knife went in, trying to mist out of the body she was using as she normally would when in danger but found she couldn't as an arm tightened around her neck. "No…how…you can't…"

"Daddy should've told you what I was when he sent you after Sam, Meg," Morgan told her quietly, twisting the knife in deeper. "There's a damn reason I can kill both Angel and Demon and why I can see a hellhound on a regular basis. As for why you can't mist out of that body? Nice little knife here that was made out of holy silver, blessed by the Pope and several other Holy Men and of course inscribed with a cute little Enochian spell that not only hurts your kind, it also locks you in the goddamn shell until I rip you out and banish you back to Hell."

In more pain than even the first time Sam and Dean used that exorcism on her and realizing that she was facing someone who could possibly kill her, Meg resorted to her last desperate act. "Father!"

Scowling when the demon possessed young woman seemed to vanish into thin air, Morgan shot the knife a dirty look. "Well, couldn't stop that, could you?" she muttered, eyeing the Hellyorkies carefully to see that most of them had taken to just sitting around Sam while one was chewing on its brother's head. "Jack, luv?" she called to the mystic who she knew was still in the house while she went closer to Sam but never let her attention leave the dogs that had been left behind when Meg vanished.

"What?" he growled, having a headache already and something was making it worse. "Dean with you cause I'm picking up some really odd vibes from out there," he commented, grabbing the book a second before Bobby Singer threw it at something stupid Castiel said when suddenly Jack noticed his friend's way too sweet tone. "What?" he asked more cautiously this time.

"You know that pet dragon Dev keeps in your basement?" she began calmly, counting heads to be sure all the rather strange looking Hellhounds were accounted for since she sure didn't need one scaring the crap out of Dean.

Feeling that headache about to get worse, Jack forced his powers to search the yard to see what she was and nearly dropped the heavy book of Enochian that Bobby had wanted from a top shelf. "What in the hell are those things?" he demanded, sure he was seeing wrong as he counted six very small, very Yorkie looking hellhounds all playing around and… "Are those hellhounds and does that one have a…pink bow?"

"Huh?" Bobby Singer turned from what he was doing even as Castiel was staring.

"Yeah, cute, huh?" Morgan nodded, scooting one away from Sam before it crawled in his lap and scared the kid to death. "Think these will coexist with Dev's dragon?"

"Dev's dragon will eat those…no, never mind. Those things will probably scare that overgrown spoiled rotten dragon," Jack muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Yeah, I'll zap 'em to the store or to Ethan," he decided his brother owed him for this. "Boss, odds are good that…Boss? Shit, I hate it when she shuts me out."

Confident that Jack would handle the Yorkies from Hell, Morgan sat down a little bit away from where Sam was sitting to look at him closely.

He still seemed pale, but the way he was sweating also told her that his fever must have broke…which may or may not be a good thing. She knew most of his injuries were on the inside, though the pain was still intense so as the dogs vanished with a spell from a confused mystic, she eased closer until she could just touch his arm, surprised when he didn't jerk.

"Y'know, running out here and scaring the crap outta me and your brother not a good plan, Sammy," she remarked calmly, wishing she's thought to bring a jacket for him to put on over the still too large hoodie. "You okay?"

More at ease since Meg had vanished and the growling had stopped, Sam nodded slowly even though he kept his eyes moving restlessly and seemed to not pay attention when her fingers glittered softly on his skin. "Where's Dean?" he asked suddenly, moving his head finally to watch Morgan but not moving his arm.

Focusing on using the power she'd regained to take away the internal pain left over from the abuse he'd suffered at Zachariah's hands, she didn't instantly hear his question or pick up on the change in tone. "Taking the bloody long away around as usual," she replied, feeling where his more severe pain was and automatically going there but knowing she needed to be careful with touching his back when he suddenly shot to his feet. "Sam?"

"C'mere," he was quickly to grab her hand and head down a path in the junkyard that made her breath catch. Sam slowed down when he came to the car he'd wanted. "Bobby kept it because Dean asked him to."

The same old Mustang that she had been watching Dean work on the last day here at Bobby before things went wrong sat in the same spot and though she doubted if it still ran, she was a little shocked that it wasn't in worse shape.

"When we'd still come here, before Dad and Bobby's last blowup, Dean would come out here and work on it," Sam spoke quietly before sitting down on the ground beside the car to look up at her with eyes that were still too large but appeared to be…clear. "He still comes out here to work on it, to keep the rust away, or just to sit in it like you two would do."

Sitting next to him, Morgan swallowed the lump that was forming and again looked at Sam. His voice was teetering back and forth but it was the tone that stayed the same. His eyes, while they were still too large, they didn't appear to have the same shadows as they had been having. Now, they just appeared haunted and she wished she were strong enough to read him but between everything that happened in West Virginia, to John's attack in spirit form, to using her abilities today, she could feel herself going downhill and prayed Dean showed up soon.

"Why?" she asked quietly, looking back at the car to recall a time that seemed like a lifetime ago when both she and Dean could still claim to have some innocence left, before that damn final fight.

"Probably for the same reason you always wrote to us even though you never got a letter back, or why you still sent birthday cards or little packages with no name on birthdays or Christmas or…" Sam had leaned his back to stare at the sky before sliding a pure Sammy look toward her as he went on dryly. "Or why my Literature Professor was a reserve mercenary of Kelly's or the reason you scoped Jess out before I moved in with her or any of the things you did for Dean or…

"Okay, I get it," Morgan finally cut him off before moving so she could touch his face, seeing every fear and buried emotion in Sam's eyes once again that she held her breath. "Sam? You in there again?" she asked warily.

Letting his eyes close briefly, Sam merely shook his head and shivered through the hoodie. "I remember, Morgan," he murmured, not seeing it but feeling her tense as she moved back closer to him for support if he needed it.

"You remember what, Sam?" she asked, figuring if he remembered every damn detail from his capture in Birkstown than Dean was going to have his hands full soon but frowned when he moved a hand up to touch her injured shoulder gently and she knew before he spoke what it was that he remembered. "Sam."

"I remember why you left that day," he told her, his hand being careful to not hurt her again when he kept her from shifting away. "I remember what Dad did…to me and to you. You left not only because he threatened to take me away from Dean but because he tried to hurt you. You stayed away from us, from Dean, or at least stayed away so we didn't know you were close, because you promised you would so that Dad wouldn't leave Dean or…"

Morgan sighed, wondering of all the things that Sam could've remembered why he had to pick that memory to focus on when she saw his eyes and the pain in them, guessing what he was thinking. "It wasn't your fault that I left, Sam," she told him firmly, refusing to have that blame on him. "I left because I knew once John got back that I wouldn't be able to stay. He'd seen and experienced my powers first hand so I knew I'd lose Dean…it was something I accepted but…"

"But it was my fault that he stabbed you," the younger man cut in, now vividly recalling seeing the knife in his father's hand as it came toward Morgan. "You pulled me behind you and took the blade in your shoulder. Then you…"

"Sam, what I did that day I did for the same reason I did what I did for Dean at the cabin. To protect you," she responded seriously, surprised by how cold it was suddenly but focused on Sam's hazel eyes. "I knew Dean would be upset but I also wasn't expecting my letters to you guys to get hijacked. I guess that's where my note to Dean went that day too. God, it's amazing he didn't kill me that day in Oregon."

Reaching out to lay a hand over her hand, Sam knew her skin shouldn't have been that cold. "I found the letters in Bobby's desk shortly after Dad died while we were staying here," he remarked with a yawn, moving closer until he was closer to her. "Does Dean know about 'em?"

"I'm guessing you're back in there, Sam?" Morgan countered, feeling him leaning closer so as she would when he was much smaller, she let him slip his arms around her but found it much harder to hold him since he sprouted to Sasquatch size as Dean would say.

"Considering the things I remember I kind of wish I wasn't but…yeah," he sighed, letting his eyes close for a little bit and wondered where his brother was. "Is Dean…okay?"

Wondering that herself since she knew it shouldn't have taken him this long, Morgan forced a smile. "Dean's coming, Sam," she assured him, throwing out a mental shout to her friend to get his ass in gear. "He probably got lost or…"

"Or he hates me because I couldn't stop Lucifer at Carthage and Jo and Ellen got killed?" Sam broke in, still torn up about that mistake and it showed when he began to shake again. "Maybe Dad shoulda killed me then none of this would've happened," he muttered, moving a hand to his eyes when a gentle touch made him lift his head. "Dean could've left Dad, gone on his own, been happy and not get stuck with a brother who just ended the world or…"

"Whoa," Morgan finally cut him off, swearing to slap Dean in the head for this blunder. "Sammy, you did not end the whole bloody world. You and Dean were both led down that path," she still hated that she hadn't seen that coming. "I should've done more for you while Dean was gone but…it hurt so much to see you because I'd remember him and…"

"You loved him," Sam told her, feeling her tense but went on speaking, only when he dropped his voice to a near whisper she knew this was going to be bad. "I…love him but I know that after finding out about the blood, Ruby, setting Lucifer free, to getting Ellen and Jo killed that Dean…" he stopped to look at Morgan with tears shining. "I thought after he came back for me in Oregon, okay maybe you made him, that we'd be okay eventually but now, after Carthage…does Dean hate me again, Morgan?" he asked with the same innocence that he'd showed fifteen years earlier. "Will he ever think of me as his brother again or…"

"I never hated you, Sam."

Both Sam and Morgan jerked in surprise at Dean's voice. Not only at hearing it since neither had been expecting to at that time but it was the deep, rarely used raw emotional tone that he only used in rare occasions.

"I told you that day in Oregon that I never hated you and I don't," Dean remarked, walking slowly from where he'd been standing to listen to his brother's tear choked words to kneel on the other side of his brother. "Carthage now was…"

"My fault," Sam whispered, knowing this and knowing that it had been only a matter of time before his brother finally said it. "I know that. I wish to God that I could take it back. That it would've been me instead of Jo and Ellen who'd died there…I guess so do…"

"Dean," Morgan's tone sharpened when she saw the flash of anger in the older Winchester's green eyes a second before his hand moved.

Sam instinctively went still in preparation of the fist he knew would come but he wasn't expecting when Dean's hand gripped his neck in order to jerk him into his arms tightly.

"You finish that sentence and you will be washing and waxing the Impala for a damn year, little brother," he warned gruffly, feeling the concern in Morgan's gaze as he met it over Sam's shoulder but could only nod for the moment. "We got the tip for the Colt from a bubblebrained airhead who thinks Chuck is the next best thing to sliced bread, Sam," Dean began seriously, having had time to consider what he should and shouldn't say to his brother right then. "We jumped on Becky's lead without thinking that someone else could've slipped it to her. We found out about Crowley, we involved Ellen and Jo, we went to Carthage not knowing that the damn gun wouldn't kill Lucifer. The operative word here, Sammy, is we."

Feeling Sam shake, Dean tightened one arm but moved his other around to grasp his brother's chin in order to see his face, recognizing the same pain in his eyes as he'd been too blind recently to see. "Ellen and Jo both knew the risks and Jo, well, it was me she got hurt saving so…that's on my head, not yours."

"You cared for Jo, though," Sam mumbled, not seeming to notice the way Dean tensed or how Morgan looked away at those innocent words. "I always thought you thought of her like a kid sister or something but…"

Being very careful to phrase this correctly, Dean nodded slowly as he leaned Sam back against the car but placed both hands on his neck as it was a familiar move to them, one he prayed his brother wouldn't push away from now.

"Jo…reminded me of someone, Sam, but…no matter what I couldn't have loved her like she deserved," he admitted, letting his eyes slowly meet Morgan's. "Jo was a good person, a good hunter, with an attitude that made me seem charming…shut up, Sam," he warned at the small snort he heard. "But, I guess I knew that she wasn't the girl for me. I had that once…I had the perfect girl once and like a stupid fool, I let her go."

Frowning slightly, Sam's exhaustion was making him not think as he mixed up his brother's quiet admission. "Nah, I liked Cassie and all but I don't think she was perfect for you, Dean," he yawned again, blinking as the fingers gripping his neck tightened slightly. "Owww, wha…"

"Sammy, you're gonna get me killed before anything else does if you don't remember Dean Winchester Rule #5," he growled. "Little brothers are better off seen and not heard."

While Sam's still recovering mind processed that mild insult, Morgan finally shook her head but stood carefully to lean against the hood of the car much like she had once. "You didn't let go, Dean," she told him, understanding what he seemed to be saying. "I'm the one who walked away, not you."

"Yeah, you walked away," Dean agreed more quietly, not letting go on Sam but moving his eyes to lock on hers fully. "You walked away after you stopped my father from nearly killing Sam, after you took a knife in your shoulder protecting my brother. You walked away after you used powers that you didn't have yet to heal him and make certain he didn't remember the full details so Sammy wouldn't be anymore afraid of Dad than he was. And after you made a damn promise that you never should have made," he went on, seeing the way Morgan tensed as those words sunk in. "You walked away after all of that and because he threatened to take Sam away but you still helped us."

"Someone was bleedin' chatty," Morgan muttered, crossing her arms tightly when she started to turn only to have a hand catch her left shoulder.

Giving Sam a look that had always meant 'stay put', Dean caught her arm to turn her back to him and to make sure she stayed where they could be close to Sam. "Yeah, memory rush from Hell is what that was," he replied sourly, head still ringing. "Apparently Sammy's remembered for awhile now because Lucifer saw it in his brain and thought I should to…I actually kind of agree with him…now."

Not happy to find out that Dean learned the truth, Morgan was especially not happy to learn how he had learned it. "It doesn't change that I left, Dean. Knowing the why I left doesn't change the fact that I…"

"It changes it because for fifteen years I believed that you'd left me for no reason!" Dean snapped, moving to pace a few steps away. "I believed Dad's version of what happened after he got me to go to town for nothing. I believed that entire summer meant nothing to you, that Sam and I meant nothing but…"

"Duck," Sam called lightly, figuring what would be coming even before glass shattered in two windshields around his brother. "Told ya."

Wanting to turn around to shoot his little, very mouthy, brother a look, Dean figured that might not be safe as he recognized the hurt anger in his friend's blue eyes.

"If that had been the case, I would've left right after we got to Bobby's and not let you convince me to stay a few more days," she countered, hating how simple that pain could still come back even as something Sam was doing caught her attention. "If you had seen the damn note I left you then maybe…"

Taking the paper from his pocket, Dean held it out to her. "This one? Dad burned it before Bobby could give it to me but I guess something as small as that doesn't bother the Devil when he wants to make a point," he said, giving the words another once over. "No where does this mention what Dad did, Morg. You weren't ever going to tell me that, were you?"

"No, because Sam didn't need to remember and I wasn't going to set you off by saying what John tried to do to Sam," Morgan ignored the way his eyes narrowed at her choice of words. "Sam was what was important, Dean."

"Funny, I happen to think you both were important to me," he tossed back with a sigh. "Damn it, Morgan. I would've protected you both if you'd just stayed until I got back."

"Dad would've killed her before he let that happen," Sam spoke up, the pain that was coming again in waves making him too chatty and also very close to slipping back under. "You promised you'd make it right one day, Dean."

Moving so he could kneel back beside Sam, Dean laid a gentle hand on the back of his neck while noticing that his brother was drawing protective signals in the dirt like he used to as a kid. "I know I did, Sammy," he murmured, meeting Morgan's eyes again when she knelt on Sam's other side. "When did you remember that day, Sam?"

Hearing her warning hiss and expecting to hear Sam say sometime just recently, it rocked both Dean and Morgan when the younger Winchester spoke next.

"Sometime during the four months you were in Hell," Sam shrugged, wincing as his leg wound pulled. "I'd gotten drunk in a bar, got in a fight and some sore loser tried to run a knife into my gut. It was sometime then that I remembered seeing Dad with that knife," he paused to look up with a frown. "I kept thinking how disappointed Morgan would be if she could see me right then."

While Dean's brain was trying to wrap itself around that admission, Morgan was eyeing Sam dryly before reaching over to gently nudge his shoulder. "Sammy, where'd you wake up?" she asked suddenly.

"Huh?" Sam blinked at the question but then tried to remember. "In a motel a few miles from the bar," he looked between them. "Never figured out how I got there or how I didn't get killed or why I didn't bleed out since I know I didn't stitch myself that time and Ruby sucked at…"

"Words, Sammy, words," Dean waved a hand, not wanting that imagery again but his eyes were drawn to the way Morgan was watching Sam and figuring it out. "You were watching him that night."

"College boy ain't so smart all the time," she smirked, grinning at Sam's tired but still very Sammy bitch face. "It was the anniversary of the time John dropped you two off with Jim after he'd beat the crap outta you and Sam always self-destructed around that time," Morgan told Dean, catching Sam's chin before it dropped. "Even at Stanford with the blond Barbie wannabe, Sam would get drunk and have to be carried home by a couple well-meaning and always conveniently in the right place at the right time campus security guards…"

"Who worked for a certain snotty mercenary?" Dean guessed, wondering how that ritual had escaped his notice.

As Morgan merely shrugged in reply, Sam lifted his head to look between them before settling on his brother. "Dean…I'm tired of getting you hurt."

"Okay, it's time we get him back inside," Dean decided, knowing the tone well enough after twenty-seven years of handling his brother in varying stages. "Sammy, awesome big brothers are supposed to get hurt while taking care of their pain in the ass little brothers and…"

"Watch it, Dean," Morgan warned sharply, grabbing for Sam's arm when he went off balance as soon as Dean helped him up but like when Sam was a child and sick, adult Sam was just as clingy and unmanageable. "I like your face but can make a brief exception to smack you."

Smirking, Dean finally got a solid hold of Sam but nearly lost it when his brother suddenly went down hard as the leg that had been a black dog's chew toy crumpled under his weight. "Sammy!"

"I hurt so much," Sam mumbled, now that his mind was slowly coming to grasp with not only the current events but also the past he'd blames himself for, his system was beginning to crash. Feeling the pain of injuries that he couldn't see but knew they had been there the memories of what happened to him inside that barn in West Virginia surfaced with a vengeance. 'Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam?" cautious now since he didn't like how white Sam's face was going or how clammy his skin had suddenly become. "Sammy? You alright?"

Looking up at his brother, something still bothered Sam. "Don't leave, 'kay?" he asked, voice going soft even before Dean saw his brother's eyes roll back and lunged for him.

"Damn it!" he swore, catching Sam's shoulders before he fell face first into the dirt. "Well, he'll be fun when he wakes up, I'm sure."

Morgan had knelt next to the brothers to see that while Sam was still cool his pulse was too fast. "He's going back into shock, Dean," she told him grimly, looking around to judge the distance from where they were to the house. "Fifteen years ago this wasn't an issue because he was at a size where you could carry him the entire way back to Bobby's house," she knew that Dean understood their problem when he frowned in consideration. "Now, with your shoulder hurt and the new bruises you got earlier, you can't carry Sam all the way back and while I could probably teleport halfway…"

"No," Dean cut that plan off firmly, not needing both of them unconscious on him again. "Toss a coin. Your mystic or my Angel, pick one."

Debating on telling her friend just how wrong that sentence was, Morgan considered. While Jack's abilities were a bit smoother, the Winchesters were more at ease with Castiel so with a sigh, she took out a coin from her pocket. "Heads, Cas or tails and it's Jack," she told him, flipping it in the air to catch it before he could. "Hmm, heads."

"That the same coin we used in the mountains?" Dean asked while trying to hold Sam up and dig for his cell phone at the same time. "That thing always comes up heads."

"You're lucky that way, hotshot," she smiled, pocketing the coin before he could see it and taking his phone. "Yeah, lose the attitude and come beam the boys back to the house," Morgan ignored the way Dean was watching her and was glad that Jack must have told the Angel where to find them because soon she heard the flutter of wings. "I'll be back. I just want to be sure Lucifer didn't leave any surprises laying around."

Dean had his doubts about that but before he could counter, he felt Castiel's hand and knew he'd be yelling about the trip back to the house.

Waiting until she was sure she was alone, Morgan gave in finally to the urge to drop as she felt every wound she still had, every ounce of used up energy and the fears and worries she still felt for the boys. Touching the Mustang, she recalled the times out here watching as Dean and the car battled wills, while she watched and Sam played with the dog that Bobby had at the time.

Letting her head rest on the door of the car, she closed her eyes. Dean knew the truth finally and she was sure he'd been shown the truth in living Technicolor which wouldn't endear him to John any. She knew he had her letters but probably hadn't had the time to read them…at least she hoped not because it would just hurt them both if he read the last letter.

Morgan had heard the unspoken grief in Dean's voice when he'd talked about Jo Harvelle and she knew he'd downplayed his feelings for the petite blonde-haired woman. Dean wore his heart on his sleeve when he allowed anyone to see it and it was clear that he blamed himself for her death which wasn't going to help Sam. Nor would it help Sam if Dean started picking over the past. Best to just leave it alone and best for the Winchesters if she left them alone.

Sam and Dean shouldn't have been involved in the mess in Birkstown and that had been her fault. Dean's wound, Sam's traumas wouldn't have happened if she hadn't gotten them involved in something that they normally wouldn't have been.

"Dean said to tell you to stop brooding and get back to the house before he comes after you himself," Castiel's voice spoke from behind her. "Of which Jack offered what would happen to Dean if he did that and then Dean…"

"Got the picture, thanks," she rolled her eyes, knowing she needed to face Dean but also knowing he needed to focus on his brother. "Castiel…tell Dean…" she had started to turn to face the trench coat wearing Angel when she saw a movement from the corner of her eye a second before two fingers lightly touched her forehead and the world dropped into darkness.

Quickly catching the young woman as she fell into his arms, Castiel easily lifted her into his arms just as his phone rang with a ring tone that he seriously needed to have Sam change for him since he just didn't think 'Devil With A Blue Dress On' is an appropriate choice for him. "Hello, Dean," he greeted simply, listening briefly before looking down. "Yes, I have her and…yes, you were correct. She was planning to duck out on you."

The voice on the other end replied with five sharp words that Castiel figured could have been heard without the use of a phone if Bobby's windows had been open. "I'll bring her back, Dean," he replied, then considered Jack's temperament. "Might I suggest however that you duck because as soon as my nephew learns that I…knocked out his employer, he might try to kill you?"

Dean's reply was short and pithy and the Angel merely sighed while also reminding himself never to bet with Dean again since he still wasn't sure where he would find what Dean wanted since he lost the bet over the girl's intended move.

Appearing back in Bobby's library with Morgan still asleep in his arms, Castiel saw the way Bobby's eyebrows were crawling back on his head only a short moment before Jack's eyes narrowed dangerously and he was out of the library.

"Winchester! You are such a dead man!" he yelled, going for Dean who he'd assumed had been responsible for this.

"Get her upstairs with the boys and don't go letting that idjit blow Dean up!" Bobby snapped, feeling like pounding his head in when he swore he kept hearing the little whine of a dog but shrugged it off when something slammed upstairs and he hoped it wasn't Dean.

TBC (1 more time)

A/N: Okay, this took way longer than it should've but that flashback wasn't as easy to write as the others. So I deeply apologize for the wait for this update. Just one final thing to tie it up. Lots of brotherly fluff as Sam recovers (finally) and the boys settle the emotional setbacks from Carthage and more, some disgruntled Bobby and just how will Morgan react to getting tapped by Castiel? Dean finds out. Also, what is Bobby hearing? Come back for the final update to Memories and Demons.