Memories and Demons

Epilogue

"Listen to me, you trench coat wearing Star Fairy Angel if you ever do the infamous finger tap crap on my boss to knock her out I won't have to Holy Oil your ass, Castiel. I will fry you out of existence and it'll take more than God, luck or whoever keeps bringing you back to do it again," Jack MacShayne was yelling furiously at an unperturbed Angel. "If you want Morgan moved and your buddy can't do it then you tell me or Kel and we will get the boss to move. You do not zap her!"

Not hearing what the Angel said in return, Dean Winchester was splitting his attention three ways. Sam was still sleeping, only this time he appeared to be resting more easily while Morgan's still pale face was not resting easily and that scared him since he knew she still had her own injuries to get over.

While he sat, watched, and hid from the irate mystic, Dean took the time to finally read over every single letter that his friend had ever written to him and a part of him was glad that his little brother was sleeping. He hated Sam to see him show real emotion and by the time he got to the final letter which was dated a few days after his deal had come due, he wasn't even trying to keep the tears from showing.

Morgan's letters had always included the same wit, sarcasm and the occasional jab at his inability to avoid trouble but in the last couple, the tone had changed as if she understood that it wasn't going to matter what she wrote by that point. The final letter as Dean read it again was several pages long, marred with ink removers, eraser stains and tear stains and now that he could feel their link again, it was also filled with draining emotions as she poured her heart and soul into this one.

Touching the letter, he reread the final paragraph for what he figured had to have been the sixteenth time… 'I know it's too late for this to mean anything…hell, I don't know if it would've meant anything to you if I had been able to stop that bloody deal from coming due but…I…I loved you, Dean and I'm sorry it all went wrong. I'll get you back some how, some way and I'll watch out for Sam as best I can considering things but…I wish to God that I could've spared either of you this pain. I wish you'd come to me after Cold Oak and not some bloody Crossroads demon. Dean, it's been three days since the deal came due and I just had to watch Sam put you in the ground. He'll break before it goes too much longer but I won't lose both of you and I will get you back for Sammy or I'll die trying.'

"Just how many times did that almost happen then, Angel?" he asked quietly while wondering just what the hell Morgan had done in those four months.

A sound from Sam caught his attention, telling Dean that the peace and quiet was over even before he heard the first cry and his brother began to twist restlessly in his sleep.

"Here we go," he murmured, slipping the letter into his back pocket while the others he put away in the nightstand where he'd stashed Sam's bundle so his brother could read them later if he wanted.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Dean didn't move for a couple moments. He'd watched his brother wake up from a nightmare ever since he'd been a baby and knew that Sam had several reactions that could occur. He'd wake up very soon and be completely scared and confused or he'd stay locked in the damn nightmare until Dean brought him out of it or he'd wake up swinging. Of course there was also Dean's favorite reaction…when his little brother came out of his nightmare doing it all.

"Sam!" he snapped, ducking the fist that nearly clipped his jaw before grabbing it and then tried to keep his brother pinned down without hurting him until he could get him away. "Sammy, wake up before this wakes Morgan up and she kills me for thinking I'm hurting you."

"No…don't hurt…"

Swearing bitterly to himself as he'd forgotten that even hurt, sick, scared, in shock from everything that had been happening recently Sam was still wiry and strong and Dean struggled for control until he heard his brother's next word and things stopped for him.

"…Dean. Please, don't…I'm sorry I…Dean!" the frightened cry took every ounce of strength Dean had away when he slowly realized his brother was afraid of…him.

"On top of seeing and remembering the attack in Birkstown, the torture that Zachariah put him through, everything that's gone on with you including your friends dying in Carthage, that dick Zachariah also made him see you following a promise you were supposed to make on his cell phone the night Lucifer got out," Morgan told him softly.

Having picked up on Sam's emotional state, she'd woke up in time to see the first fist fly at Dean's head and found herself finally too weak to smooth these dreams out. "I guess dealing with the demon bitch and having that soon to be vaporized Angel zapping me, I can't reach him," she went on, pushing up to place a hand on Dean's rigid shoulder. "You need to face him, hotshot. This time you need to reach Sam fully and make him understand that everything that he things you blame him for isn't true. Make him see that he's still your little brother. The little brother that you risked getting your head kicked in by a zombie just to make sure Sam was safe," Morgan paused before adding softly. "Tell him, Dean. Tell him that he will always be the little brother you looked after, the one you beat up bullies for and the one who got his ass handed to him by those bikers in Modesto after you scammed them in a pool game to make money to send to Sam…anonymously."

Having let go of Sam at his last cry of pain and fear, Dean finally tossed caution to the wind. Latching onto his confused and frightened sibling when he went to lunge off the bed, his hand grabbed Sam's belt to haul him back while he shifted to stare at Morgan. "Okay, how'd the hell did you find out about that?" he groaned at her mild look, swearing to find out just what the hell else she'd been doing behind his back. "Would it have killed you to lend a hand before I landed in the damn ER?"

"Riiight and then have you whine and bitch about having a girl bail you outta trouble again," she replied, hearing something that sounded like a shotgun being fired downstairs. "Besides, who do you think kept them from killing you after they beat you unconscious, broke your damn arm and was going to roadhaul your cocky but still cute butt?"

Offering her a dark look, Dean gave a quick jerk to pull Sam back onto the bed before putting a hand flat on his chest. "Sammy!" he snapped, hoping to calm the younger man down but it seemed like the harder tone just made him fight more and he felt a slap to the back of his head. "I swear, I'm going to hit you one of these days and take my chances with that mystic!"

"No, because I'll break your arm if you try that and try loosing the attitude and just be Dean for once with him lately," Morgan snapped, again hearing a weapon being discharged only recognizing Kelly's Magnum this time. "He's scared, Dean and he's got a lifetime of bad memories sacking him right now. Be his damn brother or I will bitchslap you all over this goddamn house."

Recognizing the tone as the one she used when he'd pissed her off, Dean decided it was time to focus on his brother when suddenly the bedroom door banged open to allow the sound of skittering claws and the playful yips of what sounded like a very small dog…if one could see it.

"What the hell…" Dean stared while giving up the plan of holding Sam down and just sat on him fully while trying to see what the hell had just tore into their room as the barks made his skin crawl and Morgan's eyes rolled up in exasperation. "Morgan…what is…"

"Shit! Where the hell is that damn devil mutt?" Jack skidded into the room with a small ball of energy pulsing on his hand as he struggled to look all over the room. "Ah-ha! Hold still you little ball of demonic energy…" he tossed the ball then swore as what he was throwing it at seemed to lunge across the bed, running over both Winchesters to escape out the door past Castiel who spun around to give chase but seemed to slip on something and fall. "I hate those things."

Morgan felt like groaning, hiding and killing Jack all at the same time when Dean grabbed for her wrist, an odd look of frustration, caution, and concern on his face. "Don't ask. I'll take care of it," she told him, going to pull free when he jerked her closer. "Dean…"

"Did that or did that not just sound like a very small Hellhound?" he asked tightly, memories still raw of those things ripping into him but they sure hadn't sounded like what he'd just heard. "Is there a Hellhound in this house?" he demanded. "Why is there a Hellhound in Bobby's house?"

"Good question, luv," she decided to agree with him while giving the disgruntled mystic a look that promised death soon. "Remind me to find that out…after I kill Jack who promised he'd take care of that little issue."

Hearing a shotgun fire again, Jack groaned. "I did take care of it!" he argued. "That one…I missed that one and it's sort of…well attached itself to…" he coughed into his hand. "Bobby but don't worry cause as soon as I get her within range I'm burning the pesky little critter."

"Little?" Dean snorted, placing a hand flat on Sam's face to shove it back down while making sure he kept his weight on him. "Hellhounds aren't…" he blinked at Morgan's smirk but before he could ask what the joke was Bobby could be heard shouting. "You are going to tell me all about this, right?"

"Sure, Dean…just as soon as I deal with this," Morgan was quick to pull her hand free, gave him a quick kiss of encouragement, ran a hand down Sam's face to try to settle him down some before grabbing her mystic by the ear. "Get down there before Bobby and Kelly shoot this place up and Angel Boy! You ever touch me again and you are so toasted!"

"Sammy, remind me again why I don't piss her off?" he muttered, finally able to turn his attention to his no longer struggling little brother. "You awake or are you gonna try to cave my skull in again if I move?"

Gasping for breath, Sam stared up at his brother for a long moment as if having trouble recognizing him until… "Dean?"

"Finally," Dean groused, being careful when he moved in case Sam moved too quickly but his brother remained perfectly still as if he was waiting for something. "Sammy? You with me or what? Talk to me, little brother."

"Why?" the tone was dull and mostly listless and worried Dean almost as much as when he reached for the blanket he'd had as a kid. "He said it was all my fault. My fault you got hurt all the time, my fault you lost Morgan, my fault I kill anyone we know, my fault Jess died, my fault Jo and Ellen died and…"

Pinching his nose in frustration, Dean vowed to kill that Angel at the first moment he could. "Sammy, we had this talk. Zachariah lies. You can't listen to a word he says or…" he drew off when he caught the way his brother was chewing his lip. "Dad said that to you."

"It was like I was there but not there, Dean," Sam told him quietly, keeping his eyes on the threadbare blanket. "I could hear Dad, I felt him in control of my body but the only time I could really fight back is when he tried to hurt you. Why did he do that?" he asked, not really wanting an answer but needing someone to tell him. "Did he ever love us?"

That question stopped Dean cold and left him with a very uneasy feeling in his stomach. "Sam…" he sighed, standing to move toward the window. "I…I can't answer that because I don't know. I know that when you were born, before the fire, Dad loved us. After the fire, after Mom died…he changed," Dean had a hard time recalling a lot of his childhood before that night but the memories he did have were good ones and he wished to God his brother had known that father instead of the one he did grow up with. "Sammy, I know Dad's spirit, or whatever the hell that was, probably put some crap in your head that messed you up but I need you to listen to me because I swear if you make me do this one more damn time I will…" he winced at the mild slap he felt. "I will kill our friend if she doesn't quit doing that."

It was the serious, more thoughtful tone in Dean's voice that started making Sam pay closer attention as he sat up on his bed but didn't try to stand yet. He noticed that his brother was tense but not the way he had been after Carthage even as he caught that way Dean favored his left shoulder.

Sam had his memories of Birkstown. He remembered everything from the second he lost sight of Dean and Morgan to the bragging that Zachariah did to every damn injury that was inflicted to finally feeling his father's spirit take control of his body. He knew that more than likely the memories were left as an added injury since by now the bald Angel knew how to hurt both Winchesters and Sam was more than aware of how he carried his guilt. His only question was how was his brother handling things.

"Sam, we covered most of this in Oregon so I hope you still remember it because we are not going through this every damn time we have a fight, or something goes wrong," Dean began, moving enough that he could watch his brother from the corner of his corner without actually having to face him fully. "You're my brother and we're family. Nothing will ever change that and I told you once that if we were going to go down then we'd do it together. Nothing in our lives has ever or will ever be your fault…"

"I got you hurt how many times, Dean?" Sam interrupted, more awake now he wasn't sure if he was ready to hear his brother's opinions. "I don't just mean by Dad. How many hunts did you get hurt on because I screwed up and how many of those did you take the fall so Dad didn't jump down my throat? It was because Dad went after me that Morgan got hurt and had to leave you. I shot you threw a damn wall in the asylum, I left you alone and you almost got killed by that scarecrow God, I shot you and you went to…"

"Sam, stop," was all Dean had to say to bring the halting litany of sins that Sam felt he'd done to a halt. "Damn, we did one hellava number on your self confidence didn't we?"

Blinking, Sam stared at Dean in confusion. "No, you were always…"

"Yeah, I was always there to protect you physically Sam but it's pretty clear that I screwed up in the area of making sure Dad didn't screw you up emotionally," Dean sighed, hating all this touchy-feely crap but accepting it was his only way to help his brother. "We don't have time right now for me to go through the list of things you think you've done wrong so let's just skip to the major ones right now. I got hurt because Dad was pissed off when he walked in the door and I didn't back down when he threw a fit over you slipping out. I took the beating so he'd have lost some of the rage before he got to you because if I'd've known then about those bruises on you, he'd have died the second he shoved you into the motel again."

Taking a deep breath, Dean run a nervous hand through his hair before finally turning to walk back to Sam but slowed the second he saw the younger man tense. "Sammy, I never laid a hand on you…okay, except for a few times recently and you gotta admit you deserved a couple of those shots, and I'm not going to now," he declared, trying not to let Sam see how much that mistrust hurt. "I am going to ground you for that stunt you pulled in West Virginia because you had no plan on surviving that, did you?"

"I…I knew that Lucifer would bring me back so…" Sam's eyes lowered to the floor to avoid his brother until he felt a firm hand lift his face up as Dean knelt in front of him. "I couldn't let you and Morgan be hurt again, Dean. It was the only way I could make up for what Dad did to her, what he did to you, what he cost you."

A sound that Dean recognized as something breaking made him wince but he didn't let on despite the pain he felt. "Sammy, you didn't get me hurt. You didn't make Dad hurt Morgan and you didn't cost me anything. Dad did all of that himself and before you say what's probably on the tip of your tongue and you really set her off, Morgan would've defended you from anyone but that's not the reason Dad hurt her and you know it. You know that Dad and Morg were headed for a confrontation sooner of later because that's why you got in Dad's face which, by the way, was so not a good thing to do," he recognized the pain in his little brother's eyes as the same emotion Sam had that summer. "Why didn't you tell me then, Sam?"

"Would you have believed me, Dean?" his brother asked quietly, again noticing that Dean wasn't using his left arm that much. "Dad had already fed you a pack of lies and you were hurt. I couldn't even say her name without you flying off the handle at me so I…I didn't. I just wrote to her but then you know that don't you?"

"Yeah, thanks for telling me though because I didn't exactly react well to finding out that my little brother was writing to her and that she wrote back to you but…" Dean stopped when he felt Sam tense, shaking his head. "I know she did, Sammy. Bobby gave me the letters and I have to admit, the nosy little brat knew a hell of a lot about what we did and she had some interesting…opinions of your choices," he coughed with a smirk that he was careful to hide.

"I know she didn't like Jessica, Dean," Sam replied, remembering the first time he began to suspect that he wasn't completely on his own at Stanford. "Morgan's sweet, friendly and a wonderful friend but when she doesn't like you…she makes you know that too and Jess knew that she wasn't liked."

Keeping his opinion on that matter to himself, Dean made a mental note to show his friend his appreciation in watching over Sammy but right then something his brother said rang a bell. "Sammy, how did we know for sure that Lucifer would bring you back?" he asked cautiously, praying he was thinking the wrong thing when he felt his heart clench the moment that Sam went to move away from him. "Sam, look at me. What the hell did you do and when?"

Only managing three steps before his leg buckled, Sam felt his brother's hands catching him before he found himself placed in the chair that Bobby had moved into the room. "I had to know and I figured after Carthage it wouldn't have mattered to you so…what was that?" he missed the flash of horror that passed over Dean's face but didn't miss the loud sound of breaking glass a second before Bobby was heard yelling about doing more damage that those other idjits. "Dean?"

"Sammy, you do know that Morgan can either read or hear every damn thing you say don't you?" he asked carefully, swearing he'd keep his temper even as he was looking at Sam closer for the first time in weeks.

He expected his brother to be pale and drawn after what he'd been through but for the first time he noticed that Sam avoided even casual contact with him and then he recalled the one mark on Sam's chest that neither he nor Bobby had been able to figure out and he felt weak at the knees. "What did you do?" he asked again, only this time with more force.

"I…took the demon killing knife and…" Sam stopped at the strangled like sound his brother made, looking up and not sure what expression he'd been expecting, the look of sick grief reflected in Dean's eyes wasn't it. "I mean…I'd screwed up with the Colt. Jo and Ellen are dead because of me and you…"

"And I what?" Dean's voice was strained but not from the fury he knew his brother thought it was. It was strained from not screaming at himself for allowing it to get this damn bad with Sam. "Where the hell was I when you decided to stick a knife in your chest?"

"Passed out drunk in the library, I think," Sam shrugged, waiting for the blow to come and when nothing did he finally lifted his eyes to find his brother watching him. "Dean? It didn't matter because it didn't…"

Fighting both rage and panic, Dean's reaction was natural for him even as he struggled to cushion it when he grabbed Sam by the arms to shove him back against the wall with enough force that a picture hanging on it rattled. "It didn't matter?" he gritted, seeing that description in his mind. Even closing his eyes didn't remove the image of his emotionally distraught little brother alone in the junkyard hating himself while the one person he needed was wallowing in his own pity inside the house. He could see Sam take that damn demon killing knife that Dean had given him back and… "Even after Oregon, after I told you that I didn't want you dead, you still think I wouldn't care if you killed yourself?" he demanded, forcing Sam to meet his eyes. "You're my brother, Sam! Yeah, we have problems but then you name me any family who doesn't. I screwed up and I let everyone come between us when I should've been focusing on you. When I started doing that again this crap blew up and you think I want you dead again! I don't want you dead, Sammy. I never did!"

"You shoved me away again!" this time when Sam yelled back, there was no hate or anger or mistrust. Just a confused, scared kid who was trying to cling to the last thing he had that he loved. "I messed up and Jo and Ellen died! You could've died! All because I was stupid and didn't kill myself after you died! I tried so many damn times, Dean but it never worked! Not even before Lucifer was free, I couldn't die right!" he shouted, not aware of the tears that were falling or when his fingers reached out to grip Dean's arms but not to free himself, only to hold on tighter. "Then you came back and nothing was right! You wouldn't let me in and Ruby kept saying I was too weak. Just like I was too weak to save our friends and you hate me for Jo's death. So because you have to be big brother and pretend that you don't want me dead, you shove me away well what the hell's the difference in that, Dean?"

"I didn't shove you away because I blamed you for Jo's death, Sam!" Dean snapped, ignoring the warning slap he felt as the emotions both brothers had buried recently poured out. "I shoved you away because I'm sick to death of failing you!"

"Well, that should shut 'em both up for a couple seconds," Morgan decided from her vantage point on the bottom step.

Castiel's face was grim as he looked around. "Isn't this wrong to be listening in on Sam and Dean's private conversation?" he asked, looking down as Bobby slapped him in the arm.

"We ain't listening in on them," the older hunter scoffed, still eyeing the thing on Morgan's lap warily. "Hell, they can probably hear those two damn idjits in Cuba with the way they'll yellin'. Now, tell me what I'm supposed to do with that thing," he complained, knowing he needed to keep the young woman's mind off of upstairs because if Bobby knew one thing it was the next thud, crash, or slam that she heard would send Morgan right up after Dean.

Right then, Dean Winchester was silently cussing himself out for letting slip what he just did, especially when he caught the way his younger brother's eyes widened in confusion and knew he'd just opened the door to the biggest damn chick-flick moment of his life.

"Fail me?" Sam stared, not understanding what his brother meant when he suddenly groaned in pain that decided to remind him of why he was hurt in the first place. "Damn," he muttered, starting to just lean against the wall he was still against when he felt a firm arm go around his shoulders to support him as he was eased back on the bed. "Dean, what're you…you've never failed me."

"Sammy, I've been failing you since the night I broke into your apartment in Stanford," Dean sighed, leaning up against the wall next to his brother's bed to watch him wearily. "I failed you by not keeping you out of this life. I failed to protect you from Dad. I failed to keep you safe even though I swore to you that so long as I was with you nothing bad would happen to you and I failed that big time when I sent you into that damn diner alone and you…died."

It took Sam a few moments to make it past the walls that Dean had grown so good at putting up since his return from Hell to see the shaken big brother that had always been there for him and still blamed himself when anything bad would happen. "Dean, you can't protect me all the time. Hell, neither of us could stop this from happening if what you saw in the past is true. I was screwed before I was born. You did everything you could to keep me safe. If you hadn't, you could've just did what Dad told you to do and killed me…Dean!" he made a grab for his brother before he could move away. Only the sudden twinge of pain that made him hiss kept Dean from pulling away to avoid the innocent puppy dog eyes of his little brother who still didn't understand things.

"Sam, I would've killed myself the second after if I would've done that," he replied in a quiet voice, giving in to those damn eyes that he'd taught Sam to use so long ago and sitting next to him. "Ever since I came back and realized how far things had gone wrong for you it's been one failure after another," Dean began, looking at his hands instead of the brother he'd fought so hard to protect. "Now, every time we fail to stop Lucifer it's another time I've failed to protect you from him because, Sammy, the only thing that keeps me going in all this hell is the thought that I have to find a way to beat him in order to keep you safe. I can't let him take you, not after everything else I messed up for you. I cannot lose my baby brother to the goddamn Devil," he vowed firmly, voice deep with emotions he swore he wouldn't let out but felt the wall crack at the simple touch of a shaking hand. "Sammy,"

"I thought you still hated me for starting all this and…then when Jo and Ellen died…" Sam stopped as flashes of that explosion reminded him of his failure and the still livid bruise up on his brother's forehead reminded him of how close Dean had come to being killed. He'd started to move his hand away from Dean's shoulder when a hand reached back to grasp it.

Turning his head so he could look at the younger Winchester, Dean caught all the pain, the guilt, the confusion and self-hate that his brother was feeling and ached for the innocence they'd both had that night in Stanford. "Ellen and Jo were friends, Sam. Like Bobby, they were family and they'll be missed and mourned but," he hesitated before throwing in the proverbial towel and deciding he'd call do-over later. "…you're my brother. You're who I will go to my grave looking after and not because I promised to look after you but because…because I love you. If you ever make me repeat that out loud again this month I will so hurt you," he threatened gruffly, seeing the tears shining in Sam's eyes and with a sigh reached over to grip the back of his neck to pull him into his arms. "Y'know that you're one of the few people in my life that I love, right? Even if you are a pain in my ass most of the…damn it, Morgan! Stop doing that!"

Hiding his smile, Sam was cautious about returning the gesture until he felt Dean's arms tighten more while the long fingers that still gripped his neck in a familiar move from his childhood squeezed gently in silent assent. Finally, after so long and so much fear Sam gave in to the crash of emotions the recent weeks and injuries had brought to turn into the support and silent comfort his older brother offered. "I…I was so scared that Zachariah would hurt you or…" his words broke as he remembered too vividly being strapped to that table and only Dean's arms kept him still.

"I know, Sammy," he murmured, swallowing the lump he felt in his throat to move carefully and sit up against the headboard while being certain to keep an arm tight around his now silently sobbing little brother as the memories poured out. "Zachariah and his pals aren't going to hurt us, Sammy," Dean promised quietly, vowing to at least keep that promise because he'd kill the next Angel who even looked at his baby brother. "It's okay, Sammy. You and me, we're gonna beat both sides of this mess, get Bobby outta that chair and maybe convince Morg to tell me just what else she's been doing behind my back."

Moving slowly so it didn't disturb Sam who had just started to resettle into a half sleep, Dean managed to snag the worn blanket to pull it up enough until he watched his brother's fingers grasp it tight. With a weary smile, Dean gently carded his fingers through hair that he'd just noticed seemed to have fallen back into the way his brother used to wear it. "Sammy?" he waited until he was certain his brother was relaxed enough into a doze to asked what he'd been wondering. "Those months I was…gone, did you…see Morgan?"

"No," Sam yawned, unconsciously pulling the blanket up closer to him while he tightened his grip on his brother and then added sleepily. "Ruby did though."

"Oh, well that's…come again?" Dean hadn't been expecting that announcement, paying closer attention when he lightly tapped a finger against Sam's forehead. "Ruby saw Morgan and she was still breathing afterwards?" he found that hard to believe given how much hate his friend had for a normal girl like Jessica.

Sam yawned again. He was too sleepy and still in pain to be cautious about what he said to his brother about this. "It was shortly after I'd started to let Ruby teach me…stuff," he seemed to tense at this since he knew Dean still didn't like the mention of his powers but was surprised to just feel the gentle squeeze on his neck. "I'd messed up in an exorcism and had gotten hurt pretty bad. I didn't want Ruby stitching me up and I…think I passed out while trying to do it myself cause when I woke up, everything was stitched almost like you'd do it but the pain was gone. Ruby said she'd been trying to do the stitches when she found herself flung across the room with a knife to her throat."

"That's my girl," Dean grinned, knowing that sounded more like he'd have pictured Morgan's reaction to the demon bitch who had tricked his brother. "Why was she still breathing?" that he couldn't figure out then he saw Sam's small small.

"Actually, I asked Ruby that cause it didn't take me long to figure out who she must've encountered," he shifted closer to Dean as his body relaxed. "I kind of always knew either Morgan or you were watching me when I was in school because if I ever had trouble or something came up…it mysteriously went away and then after you…went away," he had trouble saying that since it still bothered him that his brother had given his life for him. "Even though I was falling apart a lot of the time, it was like I still knew I wasn't alone. After Ruby told me about that then I knew she was still watching out for me and somehow I knew it would all be okay cause I knew that if I couldn't get you back that if anyone could it would be Morg."

Making sure to keep moving his hand either through his brother's hair or over his shoulder, Dean nodded. "Yeah, pity the Angels beat you both to it," he sighed, wondering about something. "What trouble did you have at school?" he wanted to know and figured with Sam half asleep he'd be able to get the answers out of him.

"Ah, the usual," Sam yawned, not wanting to sleep since he was still leery about Lucifer invading his dreams and because he wanted to keep hearing his brother's strong, comforting voice. "New guy on campus, got a full ride but still could hardly afford anything, the usual bully crap…Dean, you break that lamp Bobby will kill you," he warned as if he knew his brother's temper was spiking. "I handled it mostly but after they broke my arm one night, they seemed to leave me alone from then on."

"Broke…your arm?" Dean nearly choked on the words but made himself stay still and keep his touch light despite the fury beginning to burn. "What the…why the hell didn't you call me or…?"

That question immediately received a tired but still plain bitch face reaction from Sam as he rolled his eyes at his brother. "I'd left, Dad said to stay gone, so why would I call to say that I'd gotten beat up?" he countered then frowned a little. "Truthfully, when they stopped bothering me I sort of thought maybe you had found out but…"

"Sam, if I had ever learned that some high class trash had bothered you I would've been pounding on your damn dorm room door and they would've looked like most bullies did who messed with you," Dean snorted, gently nudging his shoulder in a teasing manner. "You still should've…"

"Actually, that would've been the night you landed your cocky butt in the ER up in Modesto after you scammed those bikers out of their money," Morgan announced from the bedroom door. "You two were hell to keep track of when you weren't together."

"Yeah, well if you would've let someone know that…what the hell is that?" Dean had turned his head to look at his smirking friend when his gaze landed on the little furry bundle in her arms and he wasn't sure if his skin should crawl or if he should laugh.

Peeking out from the crook of Morgan's arms was a tiny furry head with a bright pink bow attached to spiky fur. The furry critter looked like Sam's stuffed monkey had when his brother had been curious about their Dad's razor at age five but it was the bright happy looking glowing red eyes that really alarmed the elder Winchester.

"Is that…is that a…" he wasn't sure what it was and he was almost afraid to ask even though Morgan didn't look upset as she kept the wiggling little thing from leaping onto the bed. "Angel, this is my nice calm tone, what is that supposed to be?"

"Dean, that's your getting upset and trying to hide it tone," Sam offered, yelping when the hand that was still on his neck squeezed harder. "Looks like a Yorkie…with some really wicked eyes."

Giving both brothers a disgusted look, Morgan sat on Dean's bed with the furry little thing but kept a tight grip on it despite its best attempts to go to Sam. "Actually, when Jack sort of transported the rest of Meg's pets outta here he missed this one and she sort of got into the house and attached herself to Bobby," she explained, glancing down curiously. "Jack's calling it a Hell-Yorkie. I think I'll name her…Cassie."

Eyes shooting up to see the amusement in his friend, Dean was considering a response when he heard his brother trying to cover a laugh. "Oh, you think that's funny, Geek boy?" he asked dryly, seeing the connection. "I guess that's a thinly veiled reference to my brief relationship awhile back?"

"If it's thinly veiled then I guess I'd better make a stronger attempt next time," Morgan replied, letting the dog down but kept a hand on the scruff of its neck. "Want me to tell you about the snake Kel has back home that I named after some chippie you had a fling with in Indiana?"

Sam had to laugh. Between the too sweet tone he recognized only to well in Morgan to the way Dean had tensed and was muttering under his breath, he had to laugh and accepted the light slap to his head. "Sorry, Dean. She just threatened Jessica. This is the first time I've ever seen anyone name a snake or a…is that a hellhound, after your girlfriends."

"She's a Hell-Yorkie and I did not threaten the bleach blond Barbie wannabe," Morgan objected, letting the dog go just to see what would happen and wasn't shocked when it made a straight shot for the other bed. "She's harmless, Dean," she told him upon seeing him tense. "I don't know what the hell anyone down there was thinking when they bred a hellhound with a damn Yorkie but this one loves to have her belly scratched and…"

The little hellhound had jumped up to vigorously lick Dean's face before running down to curl next to Sam's legs. "You know what I said about getting warned before being violated by Demon tongue?" Dean coughed, wiping his face while throwing a glare between his smirking friend and the little brother who was now laughing fully. "That goes for demon dogs too! Get this thing!"

"Jack's going to take her back with the rest of them when he leaves," Morgan assured him, relieved that Sam seemed more relaxed than he had. "You alright, Sammy?" she asked, keeping an eye on his brother in case Dean decided to pull some stunt.

Sam could tell his brother was planning some kind of retaliation for the little hellhound so he began to move away until a firm hand caught his shoulder which was Dean's way of telling him to stay still. "Still tired and the pain's still there," he admitted, noticing that the young woman still seemed pale and that while his brother's left arm seemed to be bothering him Morgan was favoring the right side. "You guys doing okay?" he asked, catching the brief but telling look exchanged between his brother and his friend. "What happened to your shoulder, Dean?"

Pushing the little helldog away even as she was trying to crawl onto his lap, Dean's attention was drawn to his brother at the question and he caught the look Morgan shot him. "Nothing, Sammy. I just hurt it on…something," he hedged, hoping he could get Sam off this subject and the one way he knew he could was by throwing his concern onto someone else. "Morgan's shoulder got stabbed."

"You are going to die," she hissed, moving to sit on the other side of the bed even as Sam's head was turning toward her. "I got stabbed saving your brother's stupid butt and he got shot by my now former adopted brother," Morgan explained, throwing Dean a familiar look before smiling down at Sam. "Of course we won't mention his other stupid plan to…"

In one fluid motion, Dean had dumped the little furry ball of hell-Yorkie into his amused brother's arms before he was off the bed, around it to snatch Morgan up into his arms and back her against the nearest wall. "You really want to discuss stupid plans, babe?" he challenged with a tight grin, seeing those same blue eyes flash in warning even as he felt her arms go around his neck. "Cause I seem to remember you getting in the face of the goddamn King of Hell! Which was so not a good idea when you don't have the power to handle him!" he snapped, still recalling his absolute terror over seeing that. "I swear, between you and Sam I won't survive the damn Apocalypse because you two will give me a freakin' heart attack!"

"Right and all of your bloody ideas come out so well!" Morgan shot back, feeling his temper spark as all of the recent concerns, revelations, and surprises finally sank in and Dean reacted in typical Dean-style. "Don't you even think about…" her warning was cut off by a heat-searing kiss that took them both by surprise.

Dean, for his part, had just intended to shut his friend up before Sam got any more ideas of what had been going on but then it was like every emotion he'd ever buried, hidden, or shied away from with her just hit and he gave in to the desire he'd been holding back since he'd been sixteen.

"This is what I deal with when they're together," Sam told the Hell-Yorkie with a typical Sammy-eyeroll as he rolled to his side to watch this encounter with a smirk that was too much like his brother's until he finally chose to clear his throat. "Hey! You two want to go someplace else and make out or should I take little Cassie here and go find Bobby?" he called in a louder tone, figuring something he said would register eventually but it wasn't until the bed moved under his readjusted weight that he felt the slight tug.

"You get off that bed and I will personally make sure you stay put, Sam," Morgan warned a half second after Dean broke the kiss in order to snap an order to his brother. "Get off!" she pushed Dean back a step. "That still won't keep me from telling Sam about those bikers in Modesto or anything else you've done, Dean," she teased, moving to go past him when on a sudden instinct she turned to pat his cheek in a way like she often used to do to Sam. "I won't always be around to save your cocky ass, Winchester."

Whistling for the Hell-Yorkie to follow her, she paused in the door to look back. "Bobby said to tell you to follow your baby brother's example and stay in the damn bed, hotshot," Morgan's smile was wicked as she sent a thought only Dean could hear before adding. "You're the one who had the flashback from hell shoved into what brains you still have left and I'll just go make sure Jack takes Cassie before Bobby remembers she's a hellhound."

Rolling his eyes to the ceiling and trying to count to one hundred, Dean swore he'd wait until his brother was asleep and he could lose the mystic in the house before he throttled his friend but he knew he was losing the battle, especially when he noticed Sam fighting to keep a straight face. "Shut up, Sam," he warned, giving his brother a pointed look.

"Dean, you remember what you said to me about Sarah?" Sam was struggling not to smile but the darker his brother's features got the harder it was for him. Waiting until Dean shot him a blank look only a second before the question registered and he must've recalled the day five years previous because he narrowed sharp green eyes. "Dean…marry that girl."

"Go. To. Sleep." Dean muttered, but after Sam laughed and rolled back over to do just that he did let a small smile show. "Maybe one day, Sammy," he murmured, running a hand over Sam's shoulder to give a final reassurance that he was safe before stepping from the room to find Jack MacShayne leaning in the hallway scowling. "That scowl for me or something else?"

Jack could have replied like he'd been tempted but didn't feel like getting fried so he opted for a shrug. "The boss's final orders were to make sure Lucifer can't touch your brother's dreams anymore and that's what I did. A simple spell that not even Lucifer himself can get around unless he wants his butt kicked again by my big brother," he replied, seeing Dean's relief even if he didn't speak it. "Now, I have to go take that mutt from Hell to my store in New York before Singer decides to adopt it."

"That's scary," Dean decided, considering something. "If it's a hellhound…hell-Yorkie, whatever, how can it be seen?" he asked. "I thought you can only see a hellhound when it's after you."

"Normally," the mystic conceded, going on after he made another check on the younger hunter. "There is a spell that can allow them to be seen by the regular eye. The boss knows the spell and she got tired of being the only one who could see the damn mutt…Cassie, huh?"

Sliding a dark look toward the mystic, Dean stalked downstairs while Jack laughed. Wiping his palms on his jeans, he ignored the edge his nerves had taken to catch Bobby's concerned look. "Sam's sleeping," he assured the older man before looking toward the front door.

"The longer we stay, the harder it'll be," Kelly Robinson was saying when the front door opened and he immediately got the silent message that shot from Dean's eyes. "Not that it's my decision or anything," he muttered, backing off.

Standing on the porch to gaze out at the junkyard that she'd made Jack protect with every spell he knew, Morgan remained silent even as she felt her friend step behind her. "You know I can't stay."

"I know you're still hurt and if you leave here you'll just go back to getting hurt more," Dean replied quietly, laying a hand on the small of her back to feel her tense. "You'll still be a target to them, especially since you made no bones that you don't care what happens to you in order to protect us," he waited until she had relaxed under his hand to go on. "Stay at Bobby's until Sam's back on his feet, at least. It'll save that mystic the trouble of constantly popping in to check on him."

"Low blow, Dean," she murmured, knowing that he'd thrown Sam in because he knew that while she could refuse him most times it was harder for Morgan to refuse Sam when he was sick or hurt. "We'd kill each other in a bleedin' day if I stay much longer because you know too much now."

Moving slowly, he gently turned her to face him but this time Dean made certain she didn't feel boxed in. "Oh, I have questions. I figure if I don't push you'll tell me eventually about all the things you know about me and the things that you did for both Sam and me that I don't know about," he told her, curling a strand of hair around his finger like he used to do. "Stay with us a few more days, Angel," he whispered against her ear, letting his lips kiss her neck and knowing he'd won before he felt the soft oath she thought at him a second before he felt something else slap him hard in the back. "Hey!"

"What I tell you about trying to kiss that girl, ya idjit!" Bobby snapped after he'd wheeled himself onto the porch with Kelly leaning in the door. "I swear I can't leave you two alone for a damn second without you trying to kill one another or…"

"Bobby, I'm not sixteen anymore," Dean argued, throwing the mercenary a look that promised a painful death while Morgan giggled behind him. "Morg and I can't pretty much do anything we want without you trying to hit me with a frying pan."

"Not in my damn house, boy!" the older hunter snapped, using the tone he knew would still work on Dean. "Morgan stays in my house, you watch your step, your hands and…"

Castiel had stepped out to see Dean spluttering in a way that he hadn't seen before while Morgan had turned to throw Kelly a well known look. "I take it he doesn't want you doing what you encouraged me to do when you took me to that den of…?"

"When the hell'd you take Castiel to a brothel?" Bobby demanded, slapping a hand down on the arm of his chair. "Dean…" he started to glower a second before the door slapped open to allow the scampering Hell-Yorkie to run out with Jack giving chase. "One of you help that mystic get that dog outta my house!"

"Cassie isn't a bad little doggie, Bobby," Morgan objected, grinning as Dean growled. "What? I could've named her Lisa."

"You are a jealous little girl, have I ever told you that?" Dean snapped, considering the best path to take that would find the happily yipping little creature and take him close to the old Mustang.

Whirling in mid-step, Morgan shot him a look of disbelief. "I'm jealous?" she scoffed. "If I was that jealous of your poor taste in women, Winchester I could've burned you after that week in Indiana with the yoga girl or…"

Seeing Dean lunge only to have Morgan dodge his grab in order to go find the new little Hellhound, Bobby felt like pounding his head in. "Dean! Don't even you think of taking her near that old Mustang either!"

"Get a life, Bobby and quit ruining mine!" came the retort a second before a harsh oath was heard and a loud crash. "Morgan! Get this…dog offa me!"

"God save me from Angels, Demons, and these idjits!" Bobby Singer groaned, wheeling back into the house to see Sam in the door. "Boy, do I even have to tell you where to get your butt back to?"

"No, sir," Sam replied softly, backing up but going into the library instead of upstairs. "You know she won't stay."

Bobby did know that since he'd already had this fight with Morgan earlier. "She feels that she can protect you two idjits better if she wasn't with you," the older man sighed, figuring the fight that would cause if Dean found out. Though right then, he just had to worry about what might have fallen on the older Winchester.

"Who trips on an exhaust system, Dean?" Morgan asked a few moments later as she helped Dean sit down in the library. "That's worse than Sam losing his shoe in a gutter after touching that bloody rabbits foot."

Groaning at the memory, Sam tried to pretend he was asleep on the sofa seat by the window but opened an eye to see his brother's frown at him.

"Sam's luck was all bad that time after he lost that thing and why the hell didn't you shoot Bella after she shot Sammy?" Dean groused, refusing to mention that he wouldn't have tripped over anything if that little hell terror hadn't jumped out in front of him.

"I did try to shoot the bitch, hotshot," Morgan snapped, remembering what it was like to handle both Winchesters. "She was of more use alive…until she stole the damn Colt and got you arrested by the Fed from Hell. Then I would've killed her if the hellhounds hadn't beat me to her," a sudden dark look crossed her face briefly as if remembering the next event that week and she went to turn away when a hand caught hers. "Dean."

"You couldn't have stopped it, babe," Dean told her, catching his brother's worried gaze. "I made the choice and the deal. It's over and it's time to move on and stop the Apocalypse before the world's taken over by Hell-Yorkies."

Sam snorted, burying his face in the pillow before another pillow was thrown at him. "Sorry, it's just Dean has such an aversion to Yorkies and now…sorry, sorry, Dean."

"Yeah, you'll be sorry, little brother," Dean assured him but smiled, relieved to see Sam more at ease than he had been since all of this had started. "Morgan won't always be here to protect you from your awesome big brother."

"No, but Sammy has my new cell number programmed," Morgan chose to tell him, seeing his head jerk up at that and shrugging. "What? Play your cards rights and I may give it to you."

Looking between them, Dean decided to wait until he knew Sam was fully asleep and Bobby was in bed to get even for that when he caught her thoughts. "Stay tonight?" he asked as he eased down to sit on the floor in front of the sofa seat since he didn't want Sam to be alone yet for long periods.

Considering this, Morgan finally nodded. "Tonight," she agreed, meeting deep green as she looked into his eyes when he held out a hand to her. "I want it to be different, Dean."

"It will be one day, babe," he assured her, understanding what she meant. "One day, after we've told both Heaven and Hell where to go, it'll be different. Until then, all I ask is that you trust me to do what's right for you and Sammy," Dean could feel the tension as she let him settle her on the floor next to him. "You don't have to protect us all the time, especially since you've painted an Angel target on your back."

"You should talk, hotshot," Morgan murmured, glancing up to check to see that Sam had finally fallen back to sleep. "They'll keep coming after him," she remarked softly, wishing there was a way to protect Sam from this. "You too."

Dean rested his head back on the seat with a weary sigh. "They can try but I'm not saying yes and Lucifer ain't wearing my little brother like a suit," he declared firmly, leaning over to lift her face in his palm. "Just like they won't ever touch you again."

"What's up for you two?" Morgan decided to change the topic since she knew that her friend couldn't keep that promise. "Aside from saving the world from the terrors of Yorkies?"

"Cute, babe," Dean snorted, relaxing more when he heard his brother's breathing was even and not strained like it had been recently on nights when he could get Sam to sleep. "Bobby got a message from a woman Dad let watch me and Sammy once. Her daughter's being tormented by either a vengeful spirit or a poltergeist so I guess once Sam's fully on his feet we'll head there to check into that," he replied, feeling her nod and didn't let on when he felt her snuggle against his chest. "What about you?"

Realizing how hard it was for him to ask that question, Morgan decided against mentioning the fact that she was going to have Jack find that bald son of a bitch and fry him in Holy Oil and just told Dean something that Kelly had informed her of earlier. "Kel said one of the local boys in Massachusetts bought an old house without checking it out and not it may or may not be inhabited by either a ghost or a witch," she rolled her eyes at the stupidity of the boys Kelly hired. "I'll probably go up there to check it out…unless I get word that a couple hunters landed their cocky butts in trouble again."

"You know, if you're gonna keep trying to bail us out of trouble it would be a lot easier if you just stayed with us," Dean decided, gauging his time a little better this time around or so he thought.

"Why when this way's worked so well for the last fifteen years?" Morgan had felt him move and guessed what would come next, grinning a little.

"Saves wear and tear on both that mystic and my nerves if I know where both you and my brother are," he replied, gently tilting her face up to him for a kiss just as a restless hand fell down between them and Dean remembered why his little brother was often so annoying. "Sammy? If you're awake I'm going to hurt you," he warned, growling under his breath as Morgan turned her face into his shoulder to muffle the sudden laugh. "Don't encourage him, Morg. You had lousy timing at twelve, Sam. Now, it's really bad."

If Sam was awake he knew better than to let on as he shifted his 6'4" frame on the tiny sofa seat but also managed to keep his hand close to his brother until finally Dean gave up.

"I will so make his life miserable for the next week," he promised himself while reaching back to pull the blanket up over his brother, looking back into the amused eyes of his friend. "Between him and Bobby, I'm surprised I ever got anywhere with you but…" Dean decided not to push after what Morgan had been through in Birkstown and just drew her into his arms to fall asleep even though he remained awake for a little while longer to just watch before lightly pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I love you," he whispered, swearing to smack Sam in the morning when he caught the small Sammy smirk on his face. "Yeah, you too, Geek-boy."

Sometime toward morning, Sam woke up to find both his blanket and Dean's leather jacket covering him. "Dean?" looking around he finally found his brother standing on the porch and that's when Sam realized the change. "Morgan…split again?" he asked carefully, curious when Dean didn't go tense and he seemed at ease.

"No, she left," he corrected, seeing his younger brother's confusion from the corner of his eye as he moved so Sam could join him. "The difference between this time and the rest is I know where she'll be. I know how to find her if we need her and…she said goodbye this time."

There it was. The raw emotion in his brother's voice that Sam had been waiting years to hear in regards to their friend. Sam had grown up around Dean and he knew there was a reason that his brother always dumped the girl or managed to get himself dumped before things went too deep that he could be hurt by that single word.

"Morgan'll always be here, Dean," he spoke softly, hesitating a second before risking the move to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder and expected it to be shrugged off but it wasn't. "She loves you but she also knows you can't afford the distraction right now."

"Yeah and not knowing where she is isn't a distraction, Sammy," Dean snorted but didn't sound angry as he leaned against the railing to look at his brother. "So, are we good now or do we really need to care and share anymore this job?" he asked in his usual snarky tone but there was no doubt in Sam's mind that his brother would do that if he felt Sam still needed it.

Smiling, Sam shook his head. "No, we're good," he assured his brother, not missing the relief that passed Dean's face but something still bothered him. "Dean…I keep thinking that I saw something in West Virginia that I couldn't have but…I don't remember what it was. Do you…"

"You were a drugged mess back there, Sammy," Dean replied, pushing off the railing to grip his brother's neck with both hands to pull him down until their heads met. "Most of what you saw were just crappy images that Zachariah wanted you to see. Don't worry about it. It's over, I got you back and if you ever pull a stunt like that on me again I will so make your life a living hell."

"When haven't you made my life a living hell, Dean?" Sam joked, not aware until he did it that this was the first time he and Dean had been this relaxed with each other to joke like this.

An eyebrow lifted at that remark and Dean was quick to hide the relief his felt that Sam was finally able to do that with him again. "Ha-ha, very funny. Get back inside before Bobby finds out you're outside without a shirt or jacket…bitch," he gave a little shove to nudge his brother inside the house while he waited to see if the usual comeback would come.

"Jerk," he heard Sam toss back a second before a shout from the owner of the house was heard calling them both idjits who wanted to catch pneumonia. Dean leaned his head against the door to offer a silent word of 'thanks' to whoever had been watching out for them this time since he knew how close he came to losing both his best friend and his little brother. "Bobby, somehow I doubt a cold is the worst thing that could happen to us," he shot back before shutting the door and failing to see the silhouette hidden in the murky darkness of the cars.

A tall, lean silhouette of a man who continued to watch the house for a long while before he stepped back into the shadows. "You should've listen to me, Dean," he spoke in a deep voice while he took a small battered and faded snapshot from the pocket of his jacket to look at it and ponder what he'd seen of Dean and Morgan's goodbye. "I never wanted her involved again but you don't leave me a choice."

THE END

A/N: The end has finally come. I want to thank everyone who has read this and those who have reviewed it. This one turned out longer than I expected so I appreciate everyone's patience since a couple updates took longer to get up. I certainly hope you enjoyed it and will stay tuned for more stories in this series and others that I write.

Yeah, I know. The ending was kind of…leading on wasn't it? I'm evil, what can I say but don't worry because Mirror Images will be starting very soon.

A little later that week