I hope everyone liked the last chapter! I'm struggling to find my inner writer. WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU RUN OFF TO?! Oh-and- I've been torn about which road to take to solving the numerous problems we have before us. Feel free to let me know what your thoughts are on the events to come. I could use some feedback as I navigate this!

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Bobby watched as Crowley crossed the room and stopped in front of Dean, leering down over him; Dean hadn't so much as muttered a word with all the noise. He was still; his only movement was the rise and fall of his chest. Sam leaned against the desk, vigilant but curious how Crowley would react to his discovery.

"So this is why all the fuss over the Fay payment," Crowley said as he stared down at Dean. "It's no wonder the Fay are all scrambling to find their last man. It's Dean bloody Winchester!"

Neither Bobby nor Sam said anything, not really sure if Crowley would be willing to strike a deal to keep Dean out of Hell in exchange for something else. Anything else.

Crowley laughed. "This is unbelievable! What a stroke of luck for me, aye?"

Sam shifted on his feet, hatred instantly boiling in him. Bobby motioned for him to stay put; ignoring the anger on his face. They all wanted to take a shot at Crowley, but they'd have to wait for a time when they didn't need his help.

"I heard the Fay use all sorts of nasty tricks to gather the Teinds and if I were a betting man….I'd bet that you all have been running around like headless chickens trying to keep him in sight," Crowley mused as he pulled a red ribbon from Dean's wrist. "Who would have guessed that the Fay marked this troublesome one? Bet they've not met this kind of resistance since…well, maybe ever!"

"I wouldn't doubt it," Bobby muttered. "Don't be getting giddy just yet. It's not over. We've got time yet to save him."

"Do you now? I suppose you're not currently aware of just how close I am to taking ownership of the tithe," Crowley said with a crooked grin. "It's a contract, I'm bound to do my part."

"Like hell you are," a raspy voice muttered. All eyes turned to Dean but his were locked onto Crowley. He tried to ignore the searing aching in his muscles and the heaviness of his bones. He moved to sit up, but groaned as the pain in his chest grew. He felt bruised.

"Dean," Sam said as he moved to him. "Take it easy. We can handle this."

"Don't touch me," Dean snapped; his voice raw. He pulled back from Sam, his eyes bright as he surveyed the room.

"If I wanted Dean Winchester in the Pit I wouldn't need the bloody Fay to do it for me," Crowley said as he peered around Sam at Dean. Bobby watched as Crowley continued to stare down at Dean, his expression slowly changing to a slight frown. "A shame though…," Crowley muttered as he moved to the desk and sat down. He picked through the books on the desk before tossing one down, his face suddenly solemn. "I see you've been looking for a way to keep Dean from the Fay. Any luck?"

"If we had, why would we tell you," Bobby snapped as he moved between Dean and Crowley.

"Maybe I've got reasons for not wanting a Winchester in Hell."

"Bullshit! You've been angling to get the Winchesters out of your way since you first climbed out of that pit," Bobby said.

"Right you are," Crowley retorted. "But on my terms. My timing. I know for a fact that the Fay are having a hard time keeping their hands on their last man, which—don't lie to me—is obviously squirrel here. They mark their men so they can collect them when it's time to cull the payment. He was probably marked some time ago. Years even."

"What's your point," Bobby snapped.

"Now, I know the mark was burned off him," Crowley said confidently as he flipped aimlessly through one of the books. "I've spoken with the Fay. You've been giving them quite a hard time in fulfilling their contract with Hell."

"And," Bobby demanded.

"And…what if I could help you," Crowley said with a gesture towards Dean. "Surely he's not interested in going to Hell. Are you Dean?"

Dean couldn't bring his eyes up from the floor. "No."

"Do you know of a way to keep the Fay from taking someone," Bobby demanded.

Crowley leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest. "I've never needed to stop them from fulfilling their contract. But I'm confident that if a way exists, you'll find it. You've got all the motivation anyone could ever need."

"And why would you want to help us," Sam asked suspiciously. "What are you getting out of this?"

"I'd have thought that would have been obvious," Crowley stated. "I've got a bigger prize in mind."

"What do you—," Sam stopped midsentence. "You mean a Fay? You think if we can keep Dean here, you'll get a Fay in the deal."

"And your powerful skills of deduction thwart me yet again, college boy. Keep an eye on him or I'll be throwing him a real welcome party in Hell," Crowley crooned with a smirk before he simply disappeared.

"What the hell are we going to do," Sam asked looking down at Dean.

"Find me a way out," Dean whispered, his eyes filled with fear. "I don't care how."

It was midmorning when Sam heard the sound of a vehicle outside. He didn't slow down at he pushed past Bobby to rush to the door. He flung it open and came face to face with Alice. "Where the hell have you been," he demanded. "We've been calling you since last night!"

Alice's shrugged, a pained look crossing her face as she did. "Bad cell reception?"

"That's bullshit Alice," Sam exclaimed. "What was so important that you couldn't answer the goddamn phone?!"

Before Sam could blink, Alice held up a worn scroll, the parchment tattered and stained. "How about the original Fay contract with Lucifer?"

"What did you do to get that," Sam asked angrily. "Break into Hell itself?"

"Sam, give her a break. I'm going to need Bobby to help me unload her motorcycle from the back of my truck," Dr. Fisher called out as he climbed the steps to the porch.

Sam leaned around Alice and spotted her motorcycle lying in the back of the truck, the metal twisted and mangled. "What happened?"

Alice leaned against the porch railing, holding her side as she did. "Apparently, Bobby's hex bag came with a delayed effect. My bike stalled a few miles outside of town. Didn't manage to get it off the road before a semi showed up. Bike didn't take to it very well."

"Are you okay," Sam muttered, trying to reel his anger in.

"I'm fine but my bike….," Alice replied as Dr. Fisher cleared his throat.

"She's a little banged up," he said as he motioned to Alice. "To stubborn to go to the hospital though; not unlike every other one of you."

"What can we do for you this morning," Bobby said as he stepped out onto the porch. "I thought we had another day before you'd come see if Dean needed the hospital."

"As if he's going to heal overnight on your couch," Dr. Fisher said dryly. "Of course he's still going to need the hospital tomorrow. But I'm here for Sam. I distinctly told you I wanted to see him in my emergency room this morning so I could take a look at his shoulder. Let's go Sam. Singer, come help me drag this mess off the truck."

"That mess is a vintage beauty," Alice spat out as she followed them down the steps. "Be careful with her!"

"Was a vintage beauty….Looks like a vintage pile of scrap now," Fisher muttered to Bobby as they began to unload the bike. As they worked, Alice and Sam stood by the truck.

"So where were you last night," Sam asked.

Alice sighed and ran a hand over her tired face. "Demon den. Looking for a way to help Dean."

"Any luck," Sam asked hopefully.

"Maybe. We'll need to do a little reading before we'll know. I'm hoping there's some sort of loophole we can use."

"Your little trip to the demon den…you give Crowley any reason to be looking for you," Bobby called out from the back of the truck.

"Was he here?"

"Earlier this morning," Bobby said before climbing down from the truck. "Anything we need to worry about?"

"I sure hope not." Alice glanced at Sam before turning back at the house. "Hey Sam," she muttered. "Did someone else show up to help with Dean? Garth or Marty?"

"No. Why?"

"Then who the hell is that," Alice asked as she pointed to an upstairs window. A silhouette could be seen through the thin curtain, the face was hidden as the figure turned and disappeared into the house.

"Dean, maybe," Sam offered uneasily. Something was wrong. Dean hadn't even managed to get himself off the couch.

"I doubt he's up for climbing stairs," Alice snapped. "Bobby! Fisher! We've got movement in the house! Second floor window!"

The motorcycle fell the last two feet to the ground as the group sprinted toward the house, Sam taking the steps two at a time. Sam rushed past the doorway and headed straight for the couch while Bobby ripped open the front door and disappeared up the stairs with Fisher on his heels. Alice crossed the threshold when a jolt of pain coursed through her, taking her to her knees. Dizziness made her vision swim, the floor suddenly close as it surged toward her. She took a few quick breathes as she grabbed the doorframe and propelled herself into the house. Wave after wave of bone aching pain coursed through her as black spots danced in her vison. She stumbled through the doorway, fighting against an invisible force that seemed to pull her back through the doorway. Alice crashed into a small bookcase as she fought to get to where she had last seen Dean. Panic smothered her as loud voices yelled around her, the sound muffled. She made it to Bobby's desk before her knees gave out, dizziness taking her all the way to the floor. Feet rushed past her, loud muffled voices filling the air. She couldn't see much with her blurred vision but she knew something was wrong. "DEAN!"

Bobby froze behind Sam; Fisher stepping around him, disbelief on his face as he stared up at Dean. He was still in the room, levitating a good four feet off the couch. They stood frozen in surprise as Dean just hung there, his face impassive to the situation. His eyes remained closed when Sam called his name. Bobby reached out and grabbed Dean just as he began to flicker. "You're not going anywhere boy!"

At Bobby's touch, Dean dropped like a stone, landing on the couch below. Bobby and Fisher rushed to catch him before he rolled to the floor. "What the hell was that," Sam asked anxiously.

"Sam, get over here and watch him," Bobby snapped out. "Alice, Fisher, we've got to check the house. See how they got in—"

"Singer, where is Alice," Dr. Fisher asked as he turned and spotted her boots lying behind the desk where she had landed.

"Oh balls!" Bobby rushed past the men and grabbed Alice under her arms before dragging her back onto the porch, dropping her unceremoniously. He kneeled down next to her, rolling her face toward him. Her eyes were screwed shut as she took short, painful breaths through gritted teeth. Muscle spasms torn through her body. "Alice? Can you hear me?"

"I'm going to kill you," she ground out.

"Well….that's fair," Bobby said, wondering how to explain it. He had added the additional hexes around the house specifically for Alice; he hadn't planned on needing them unless she caused any problems. He had forgotten that she'd destroyed it earlier, having it was the only way she could enter the house. A small sense of security for him but a real inconvenience for her to lose.

She cracked an eye open and glared up at him. He didn't miss the reddish burn in her eyes, like hot coals in a fire. "Hex bag, right?"

"I told you I had added a few things around the house. That bag was the only thing allowing you into the house. Without it—"

"Yeah, I know NOW what happens when I don't have it," she growled out as she fought another wave of dizziness. "Just go check the house."

Bobby didn't hesitate to leave her lying on the porch. She listened to his footsteps disappear into the house before she rolled onto her side and started to breathe through the waves of pain; sometimes helping the Winchesters was just a pain in the ass.

Fisher and Bobby disappeared up the stairs while Sam tried to wake Dean. No amount of calling his name roused him. A good shake finally got his eyes open. "Dean?"

"Sam?"

"You alright?"

Dean nodded silently as he rolled over, his back to Sam.

Meanwhile, Bobby and Fisher swept through the house with guns in hand. When they got to the attic, Bobby lowered his weapon. The herbs that had been laid across the windowsill were smoldering, the dried leaves charred and crumbling to pieces. "Goddammit," Bobby snapped as he adjusted his cap. "This was supposed to work!"

"It did," Dr. Fisher replied with a shrug. "Dean is still here. That was the point, isn't it?"

"What do we do now," Bobby spat as he headed for boys.

Sam was still trying to rouse Dean when Dr. Fisher and Bobby walked back in. "Looks like the house is clear for now," Bobby explained.

"How did they get in," Sam snapped. "I thought we had everything in place."

"We did. The herbs in one of the windows were smoldering," Bobby grumbled as he adjusted his cap. "We must be missing something."

"We've followed all the suggestions! We've read the lore!" Sam dropped into the armchair, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He was angry; more than angry. He wanted to find whatever was coming for Dean and tear them apart. "What the hell do we do now?"

"Well, for one, you're coming with me to the hospital," Dr. Fisher said as he grabbed his bag from the floor. "No arguments. If you want, I can take Dean too. Might be better off if I did…"

"Can't this wait," Sam snapped.

"No," Dr. Fisher stated firmly. "I said I wanted to see your shoulder this morning and I meant it, I've got x-rays lined up. Bobby said a bullet hit the bone. Now, as for Dean—"

"You're not taking Dean—"

"Go on Sam," Bobby said with a sigh. "I'll watch him. Let me get Alice inside before you leave."

Sam watched Bobby trudge out of the room, a hard set frown on his face. "What are you doing," Sam demanded as Dr. Fisher pulled a chair up beside Dean.

"Just going to take a few blood samples to the lab on our way in," Dr. Fisher explained as he rummaged in his bag. "Has he said anything since I saw him last? Eaten anything?"

Sam frowned. "A few words this morning. He's barely moved."

Dr. Fisher was silent as Sam spoke. The man before him was gaunt, his skin verging on an unhealthy gray. Fisher knew without checking that Dean's pulse was erratic. He didn't even move when Dr. Fisher pressed his knuckles firmly into his chest and rubbed back and forth on his sternum. The pain was barely enough to make Dean's eyes flit open for a second before they slid closed. Sam watched from a few feet away, his nervousness grew as he watched Fisher's hands. He knew what that test was for; he also knew that Dean not reacting to it was bad.

"He's getting worse," Sam said. It wasn't a question, but he hoped Fisher would correct him. He didn't.

"Let's just see what the lab results say," Dr. Fisher mumbled, trying to sound more positive than he felt. He had seen dying people before.

Out on the porch Bobby was leaning over Alice. "Alice, get up!"

She didn't say anything as she felt another wave of dizziness come over her; she was going to throw up or die. Whichever one was easier. She hated Bobby and his damn hex bag. It had been a brilliant idea, one she would replicate in the future; an ideal way to let her come and go on his terms. But still, she was going to burn his house down for actually using it against her.

"Alice!" Bobby laid a firm slap across her face. She was the one woman he would never feel bad for laying a hand on. They had too much history for him to feel bad anymore.

"WHAT?!"

"Get your ass up," he snapped as he hauled her into a sitting position and leaned her against the doorframe. He kneeled in front of her, tipping her head toward him. "How you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit with a hex bag," she snarled as she tried to focus on him through the fog that had settled over her. "How am I supposed to feel?"

He chuckled. "Honestly, I never thought you'd make it past the doorway. I guess I didn't make it strong enough."

She snorted and shook her head, instantly regretting it. "Any stronger and you'd be digging a hole right now. How do I get back inside the house?"

"Give me a minute," he said as he pulled out a pocket knife and moved inside the door. The carvings in the doorframe had been cut deeply into the wood but it took only damaging one for the charm to be ruined. "I'll have to redo this after you leave. For now, I guess we can let it go."

"Brilliant," Alice grumbled as Bobby grabbed her and hauled her onto her feet. Her vision swam and her knees buckled as she stumbled inside. She landed on her knees, cursing as she missed Bobby's outstretched hand. "We're going to talk about your hospitality later," she slurred from the floor.

Bobby hauled her off the floor with a huff and maneuvered her through the house. She landed in the arm chair next to Dean just a second after Sam left it. "Have fun at the hospital. Bring me back something for this headache, will you?"

Bobby watched as Fisher's truck pulled away. They hadn't exchanged more than a quick nod as he had left, but Bobby knew it was bad. Sam's only words when passing had been to keep Dean safe at all costs. Like that was working out so well for any of them.

"What are we going to do about Dean?"

"I don't know," Bobby admitted. "I'm getting the impression from Fisher that Dean's worse than we think. He's not eating, talking, or otherwise doing anything beyond breathing."

"He's been worse," Alice argued. "Remember the wendigo?"

"Yeah I do," Bobby said. "But this is different."

Alice looked over at Dean, he had his back to her; his breathing was hardly noticeable. "Should we take him to the hospital while Sam's gone?"

"Fisher took some samples. We'll see what he has to say," Bobby said with a shake of his head. "So…you found Charlotte last night. Any good come from it?"

Alice glanced up from Dean to look at him. "Yeah, I found her." Without another word, Alice pulled the scrying stone from her pocket and held it out to Bobby.

"You make a deal," Bobby asked, his disapproval hanging in the air. He took the stone from her outstretched hand and tucked it in his pocket. He'd have to find a better place to lock it up.

"I did," she admitted. "But not with Charlotte."

Bobby frowned and tried to keep the anger from his voice. "Crowley was there. He stopped by, looking for you and the Fay contract."

Alice pulled the scroll from inside her jacket. She held it out but Bobby didn't take it. "Maybe we'll find something in the fine print that can help Dean."

Bobby dropped into the chair behind the desk. "What did you trade for it?"

Alice looked at Bobby and tipped her head to the side. "You said Crowley stopped by. You already know what he wanted."

"Dammit Alice! We agreed we won't tell anyone about that," Bobby snapped angrily as he glared at her. "And you went and told Crowley! He's not going to let this go…"

"It doesn't matter! It's done and I say we get busy reading the damn Fay contract before we lose Dean again," Alice snapped. "It's been a hell of a long night…let's just get on with it."

Bobby caught her eye as he reluctantly took the scroll from her hand. "Let's hope we don't regret this."

McKennan Hospital, Sioux Falls, South Dakota

It was late afternoon when Sam found his way to Fisher's office from the cafeteria. He had called Bobby every half hour until Bobby threatened to shoot the phone if it rang again. Sam knew they were pushing their luck, the deadline was getting close and they really couldn't pinpoint an exact time. He had spent a few precious hours letting Fisher march him around the hospital but every time Sam mentioned leaving, Dr. Fisher glanced at his watch and shook his head. He wanted lab results before they left. He wasn't a chatty man but Sam was getting the sense that something was wrong.

Sam stood silently in the doorway, watching Dr. Fisher stare impatiently at the printer, a tight frown on his face as he snatched the first page up and read it. "Anything to be worried about," Sam asked nervously as he shifted from one foot to the other.

Dr. Fisher glanced up and tried to smile, but knew he wasn't fooling anyone. Even without having all of Dean's results, he knew the picture they would create. It was one of a young man who was wasting away and actively dying. He knew he'd have to tell them, both Sam and Bobby; but damned if he was going to do it twice. He'd wait. "I'm still waiting for a few pages to print."

"Are we done," Sam asked as he impatiently checked the clock again. "I want to see if Alice and Bobby have found anything yet."

Dr. Fisher glanced up from the paperwork, distracted by what he was reading. "We'll head out in a few minutes. Your x-rays show the damage from the bullet but it looks like Bobby got everything out okay."

Sam nodded. "So is that Dean's lab work?

"Yes."

Sam smiled nervously when Fisher didn't elaborate. "I know you have privacy rules but I think Dean would be okay with you telling me. Besides, Dean's not really going to be able to understand you right now."

Dr. Fisher set the paperwork down on the desk; face down, before looking at Sam. "I think it would be better to wait until we get back to Bobby's to talk about it."

Sam felt the familiar worry spring up and begin gnawing at him. He'd experienced it before; maybe dozens of times even, from every time Dean got hurt or burrowed into himself and pushed Sam out. It wasn't the sense of dread that shook Sam; it was the look of certainty on Fisher's face and the tone of cold pity that was reserved by physicians. It was bad news, through and through.

"No. No, you tell me now what's going on," Sam demanded as he stalked across the room to the desk, whipping the paperwork out from under Fisher's hand. Sam scanned the numbers, frowning as his heart sped up. He had seen enough hospital paperwork of the years to understand how many of Dean's numbers were out of balance.

"Not all the lab work results are back yet but I don't need to see it all to know what's happening. He's dying, Sam," Dr. Fisher said slowly. So much for waiting for Bobby.

"How?! He's not sick…I know he hasn't been great since this whole thing started, but…he's not dying!"

"I don't have a reason for why he's dying, Sam. I can just see that he is," Dr. Fisher explained. "Maybe its Fay related, maybe he just wasn't up for everything he's been through….I'm sorry Sam."

Sam stared at the lab results, each column highlighting the ways Dean's body was failing. He gripped the papers tightly, crushing them. His mouth was instantly dry, his ears ringing. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know that I can do anything to reverse it. Without an extensive work up…I don't know why he's this bad. But he is," Fisher replied. "I could hook him up to machinery, but his body systems are already shutting down. I can't do anything while he's out at Bobby's, I could bring him here, but there are no guarantees."

Sam headed for the door. "He's not going to die! We haven't gotten this far for him to die!"

"I know Sam. I know that all this time you were worried he'd be taken by the Fay or worse. He's only human and humans are fragile. They can only take so much before they die…"

Singer Salvage, Sioux Falls, South Dakota

It was early evening when Alice heard the front door slam. She watched as Sam angrily crossed the room, papers clutched in his hand. He didn't say a word to her or Bobby as he leaned over Dean, ordering him to open his eyes.

Dr. Fisher quietly stepped into sight and waved Bobby and Alice out of the room. "What's going on," Bobby demanded once they were out of earshot. "Sam looks like he's about to lose it."

"Dean's dying," Dr. Fisher explained. "I know you all are fighting for a way to save him from the Fay, but honestly, he's probably not going to last long enough for them to come back for him...and if they were to take him, he's not likely to survive wherever they're taking him too."

"He can't be," Alice snapped. "The Fay made him sick but he's not—"

"I don't think this is some magical or supernatural illness…this might just be a human body that has been run to the end of its limit and is now shutting down," Dr. Fisher explained carefully.

Bobby and Alice were silent. They had fought to long for Dean and not just this time. They had been fighting for Dean for years, against Hell and countless monsters, and sometimes even Dean himself. For nothing.

"I told Sam I can take him back to the hospital, we might buy him some time with drugs or life support, but his body is shutting down," Fisher explained. "I can't guarantee anything."

Bobby and Alice shared a look before Bobby shook his head. "No," Bobby said firmly. "He's staying here."

Fisher didn't say anything more as he slipped out the door and left. Bobby would call him if they wanted him back at the house. Otherwise, he was just a harbinger of bad news. They didn't need him hovering.

Alice headed back to the scroll, pausing to ruffle Dean's hair. "Turn it around kid," she muttered.

She and Bobby left Sam staring at Dean and headed to the kitchen, scroll in hand. An hour later, Bobby finally broke the silence that had settled over the house.

"What if Crowley was the one that burned the herbs in the window," Bobby mused aloud. "What would he gain?"

"I thought you said he wasn't interested in the Fay taking Dean. He wants a Fay," Alice replied distractedly as she refilled her glass before moving back to her chair and dropping into it with a sigh.

"That's what he said. But can we believe him?"

Alice scoffed as she leaned back in her chair and none to gently set her glass down. "I can't believe we're here pondering the honesty of the King of Hell..."

"You going to help me read this damn scroll you sold yourself out for or are you going to drink yourself to death in one night," Bobby snapped, ignoring her comment.

"Does it matter," Alice growled angrily. "He's dying, what's the point in reading it now?"

Bobby leaned over the table and grabbed her glass, throwing it into the sink. It exploded into a thousand pieces as he leaned on his fists and took a deep breathe. "He's not dead yet, Alice, I swear to whatever gods we haven't even heard of yet that if you give up while he's still breathing, I will—"

"Everything alright in here," Sam asked as he leaned against the doorway. He could tell from the tension in the room that if things didn't calm down one or both would end up saying something they'd regret. He needed them working together; finding any way to save Dean, even if Fisher didn't think it was possible. "Thought I heard something break."

Alice shook her head and lied. "We're fine."

Sam slipped back out of the room, his attention returning to Dean. He knew emotions were high but the stakes were even higher. They had to keep it together. Sam glanced over at Dean before looking back to his laptop, Dean's lab results in hand. He had been desperately looking up everything he could think of but the more he read the more apparent it became that Dean was pretty bad. Sam dropped the paperwork over the side of the chair; staring at the lab values wasn't helping Dean and Sam was feeling more and more helpless.

Back in the kitchen, Alice was scribbling down notes in the margins and checking off each paragraph as they discussed it. "So far, this is just a lot of red tape and excessive wording. Maybe we should go back to my books and look for something we missed."

"We didn't miss anything," Bobby argued as he glanced over the parchment hanging over the table. "And how do you think Crowley is going to take it when he sees that you've written all over that scroll?"

"Well….to be honest, I don't give a shit," Alice said with a shrug. "Guess I could have photocopied it…."

"Maybe you should have thought of that before now. We've got to find something soon," Bobby mumbled as he yanked open the fridge. "If you don't, getting that contract was all for nothing."

Alice didn't take the bait. She knew Bobby didn't approve of what she had done, but it was done. And there was no taking it back. They'd have to live with it and deal with Crowley when the time came.

"Can you two just take a break," Sam snapped from the doorway. "We're wasting our time…"

Alice glanced up from the scroll and looked from Sam to Bobby. "And here I thought we were fighting to save Dean. When did that become a waste of time?"

"Since he's going to die instead," Sam said loudly, the words hanging heavily in the room. "This whole thing has been a waste. We haven't found a way to save him from the Fay. We haven't been able to even keep them from getting inside the house! Forget the Fay. How do we keep him alive?"

Neither Bobby nor Alice said anything as Sam stormed out of the room. Bobby silently went about throwing together dinner, not that anyone would eat anyhow. Alice kept working on the scroll, scribbling notes as she did.

Sam dropped into his chair and glanced at Dean. He was looking worse by the minute, his skin nearly colorless and waxy. He knew he should call Dr. Fisher but without any hope of saving Dean, Sam wasn't going to put any of them through a hospital stay. Dean wouldn't want it. Neither would Sam.

Sam was lost in thought, staring at Dean when a peculiar sound caught him attention. He looked around for second, trying to determine what it was. He settled back into the chair and looked at Dean, his stomach turning over as he realized it wasn't a noise he had heard. It was silence. Not a breath. Not a hand brushing over a blanket. Not a word whispered through fevered lips. There was nothing to hear.

Sam stared at Dean's lifeless body for a second as his own heart beat loudly filled his ears. "DEAN!"

Bobby dropped the frying pan as Alice's chair hit the floor, both of them scrambling to get to Dean . Alice froze as her eyes locked on Dean's still form, the world going into slow motion as she felt Bobby rush past her. Sam was leaning over Dean, holding his shoulders and shaking him. "DEAN! WAKE UP!"

Okay…don't hate me. It's going to get worse. Feel free to send me some hate reviews while I sort out the next chapter.