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Sam and Dean approached the old shack on foot. Dark had settled over the land and the demons were expecting them.

"Remember, we're all getting out of here safe tonight. All of us." Dean looked over to Sam who gave a solid nod.

Dean looked at the door and wasn't sure if he should knock, let himself in quietly, or barge in. The decision was made for him as John Winchester swung the door open from inside. There was a moment of shared surprise.

"Dad!" Dean was excited to see his father up and ready to go. "Let's get out of here."

John silently agreed and the three of them started back for the parked car.

"Hurry," John encouraged, "I was able to break free but it won't be long before they're after us again."

When they reached the Impala the only sound was their labored breathing. Dean and Sam were ready to pile into the car when John stopped them.

"Wait."

"Dad?" Dean questioned, "Come on we don't have much time."

"I know, but there's something I have to do first."

John looked to his younger son. He had always known something was a bit off with Sam, but he could never place it. Now he felt so stupid for not recognizing it sooner. He had been so focused on finding the demon that had killed Mary, he didn't even consider that it could have been the one that he was raising.

"I'm so sorry," John's eyes were moist and his face bloody. He slowly raised his gun and pointed it at Sam.

"Dad?" quick as lightening Dean pulled out his flask of Holy water and splashed it on his father. He was shocked when it seemed to have no effect.

"This is the way it has to be. I love you Sammy," John took one final look at Sam before closing his eyes and pulling the trigger.

Sam wasn't afraid. He knew his bloody death was inevitable. He found solace in the fact that it would be quick.

"NO!" Dean couldn't believe what he was seeing. In a moment of panic he jumped, hoping to stop the bullet, but it was too late, Sam had already taken the hit.

"Dean, get in the car." John could see the demons stumbling out of the abandoned shed. "Hurry boy!"

Dean couldn't hear his fathers demands because of the gunshot echoing in his ears. It didn't take more than an instant for him to be down at his brother's side. Sam was bleeding out fast.

"Sammy! Stay with me Sammy!" Dean knew his brother had been shot in the heart but he couldn't help thinking there was a chance he was still alive.

"Dean! Get in the car!" John felt like he was shouting at the deaf. The demons were closing in on them. Using the dull end of the weapon he had just killed his youngest with, John knocked his older boy out cold. Dean had put on a lot of muscle since the last time John had carried him, but he managed to get him into the back seat of the car. And in no time they were on the road, leaving Sam's corpse in the dust.

The demons approached the scene just in time to watch the Impala speeding off in the distance.

One of the demons knelt down and checked for a pulse, "He's dead."

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Azazel looked down at operating table where the body of Sam Winchester was lying.

"If you all hadn't been so stupid, John Winchester wouldn't have escaped, and we wouldn't have a dead boy wonder on our hands," Azazel continued to gaze at the dead body. The small group of surrounding demons shuffled their feet and kept their eyes glued to the floor.

"Lucky for you, all he needs is a heart transplant, and of course a little dark magic," Azazel turned his focus to the demon nearest him, "unlucky for you, he's going to need your heart."

A bit of screaming, and a lot of blood and smoking out took place before Azazel thrust his hand into Sam's chest and ripped out his heart. He threw it on the ground and replaced it with the still beating heart of the unlucky demon.

A few choice Latin words and Sam was gasping for air.

"Shhh, it's all going to be ok." Azazel cooed.

Everything seemed upside down and inside out. Hadn't he just been dead? In Hell? Or was it Heaven? Everything was so confusing. His throat felt sticky and his mouth tasted like iron, but he managed to whisper the only word that had ever brought him comfort.

"Dean?"

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Dean woke up tied to a chair. His head was pounding and he could feel a little stream of blood trickling down the side of his face.

"Drink." John placed a glass of water on his son's lips.

Instead of sipping the water, Dean spat blood into it. The man before him was no longer his father.

"Dean, I know what you're thinking." John stood before his son. He couldn't stand the way the boy's eyes were searing into his soul. "You think I'm some sort of monster."

"No." Dean growled, "You're worse than what we hunt."

"You don't understand. I didn't have a choice."

"There's always a choice." Dean looked away, unable to stare at his brother's killer any longer.

Silence filled the air. Dean sat stewing in his emotions. He shifted between anger, sadness, rage, and utter despair. John tried to mask his feelings by mapping out their next drive and bandaging the bloody little stump that once was his right ring finger. About fifteen minutes passed before John finally spoke again.

"I want to put some distance between us and this place tonight." John said as he folded up the map, "Can I untie you now?"

Dean remained silent.

"Dean. You don't understand what Sam was, he-"

"He was my brother," Dean choked out, "and he was your son."

John knew he couldn't reason with his son but he couldn't stop the rage that was boiling inside of him, "Do you think it made me happy to shoot my own son in cold blood? Do you honestly think I enjoyed that Dean? Well think again! You and Sammy have always been my everything. But Hell will have to swallow me whole before I'll allow their evil plans to destroy this world."

Dean looked up to his dad, a bit unsure where this conversation was going.

"The demons needed Sam. They needed him alive so that he could be a vessel. And I couldn't let that happen."

"A vessel?"

"His whole life they were preparing him-"

"-with the demon blood." Dean finished.

"What did Sam tell you?"

"Just that he was hooked on the stuff. Demons did it to him."

"Did he tell you why?"

Dean shook his head in the negative, "He just said some crap about destiny."

"Dean," John lowered his voice, "look, I hate this just as much as you do. But I saw no other way. Go ahead and hate me, you can't hate me any more than I already hate myself. But I wasn't going to sit on the sidelines and watch my son become…become the devil."

"You're insane."

"I wish it was that simple," John sighed, "now look I'll explain the rest once we're on the road."

"I'm not going with you."

"Dean-"

"I'm not going with you," Dean repeated, anger dripping off of every word.

John took the next five minutes to grab all of Dean's personal effects from the car and lay them on the motel bed. Next to Deans things John tossed a phone.

"Number five on the speed dial. If you ever want to talk."

John decided not to cut the rope binding his son, Dean was fifty miles passed pissed and he didn't want their last few minutes together spent beating the crap out of each other. He knew Dean would get out soon enough, he had tied him down loose and sloppy.

As soon as John closed the door behind him, Dean lost it. He let the tears run freely. Sammy was gone. Again.

John climbed into the Impala and let a few tears loose himself. He just wanted his family back, Mary, Dean, and Sam. But those days were long gone. His hands started to tremble as he remembered the look on Sam's face right before he died. Like he knew it was coming. Poor Sammy, the kid had never been able to catch a break, and as much as he hated to think about what had just happened, John knew that he had done the right thing. He had stopped the apocalypse from being jumpstarted. He had taken the only true vessel of Lucifer out of commission. He just wished Dean could understand. But then his older boy never could think clearly when it came to Sam. He was so blinded by love and the need to protect him that he would never consider that maybe it wasn't Sam who needed the protecting. This time it was the world who needed protection from the harm Sam could inflict upon it.

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"Dean?" Sam asked again when he received no answer.

"Oh Sammy, it's so good to have you back." Azazel smiled and watched as tears forged their way down the sides of Sam's dirt stained face. "Now, try not to move. This might pinch a bit."

Sam winced as he felt needles being stabbed into both arms, "What?"

"You lost a lot of blood, luckily we've got blood to spare." Azazel looked around the room at the bloody demons on the ground.

Sam could feel his veins pulsating as the demon blood rushed into him.

"Just like old times, right Sammy?" Azazel watched as color started to return to Sam's skin. After a minute or two Azazel ripped the needles out and laughed as Sam cried out in pain.

"Can't be giving you too much too fast," Azazel signaled for the last two live demons in the room, "Take him to his room."

Room? Sam had been expecting a cage. Maybe that was what they were calling them now. He could barely keep his eyes open as the two demons practically dragged him out of the operating room, down the hall, and into a comfortably furnished room. Sam was done with fighting to stay awake. As soon as the demons left, Sam passed out on the bed.

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