hi all,

here you go. Hope you like this story. It Deals with what happens when Dean’s time is up. What do they do and can they save him? That sort of thing. I’m not sure how often I will update probably only once or twice a week or so as opposed to my normal every day or so cause my new job has me working crazy hours. Anywho, hope you like this one. Hugs, JJ.

PS...oh, and warning: character death (at least sort of) You have been warned. But as my mommy taught me, when playing with someone else’s toys that I always have to give them back just the way I found them. And these are not my toys (not that I can’t dream). So...





Russian Roulette








Part 1:


They spent the final week at the Junkyard under Bobby’s watchful eye; the elder man both being there for them when they needed it and giving them a safe place to be by themselves just the two of them when the need arose.

They searched and searched for a way out over the previous eleven and three-quarter months. But as time began to wind down, it became clear that none was too be found.

The first six days were spent frantically searching and researching and searching some more for any thing. But on the seventh day, they didn’t.

Sam had wanted to sure, but after a begging ‘ Sammy, please. I know that you tried. But I don’t want to do this anymore. With where I’m going...with what’s gonna happen...I just wanna have one last day. Just...please, Sammy. Just one more day with you without frantic useless research. Don’t do this today, please...’ they had not.

So, the three of them hadn’t been doing much of anything that final day, save for drinking a few beers and simply being together.

No big fat deal breakers had been found. They hadn’t been able to figure out just who the hell had his damn contract. And thanks to Miss Sticky-fingers they were still sans Colt. So all and all, they were most decidedly screwed.

Or at least Dean was anyway.

It was about eleven thirty on that final night as the three of them were sitting there on the couch. And it didn’t pass Bobby’s notice that Dean– Mr. Get the Hell Out of My Personal Space, himself– was sitting uncharacteristically close in the middle of he and Sam.

“Hey, Sam,” Dean said quietly, breaking the silence. “Think I can get another beer?”

“Sure,” the younger brother said, getting up and heading into the kitchen to get him one, and sincerely hoping that this wasn’t Dean’s version of his father’s ‘get me a cup of caffeine.’

“Sure you don’t mind it happening here, Bobby,” Dean said softly as soon as he was gone. “I can go out...don’t want to screw up your house.”

Bobby frowned at that for a moment, before looping an arm around his shoulder. “It’s wood and plaster, kid,” he said. “Just a house...you’re family.” He looked at him pointedly. “Got it?”

The younger man swallowed hard and then nodded once tersely. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” he said. “Cause there’s nowhere else I’d rather you be tonight,” he said gruffly.

The young hunter nodded once briefly, a clouded look passing over his eyes for a long moment. “You’ll watch out for Sammy, right,” he said. “About what dad said?”

“You don’t even have to ask that, Dean,” he said firmly. “You know I will...but I think that...” But his voice trailed off as Sam reentered the room.

*

As the day began to dwindle down, Bobby watched the two of them interact from afar.

He’d excused himself to the kitchen a short while before, knowing instinctively that they’d need some time just the two of them right now. But he didn’t go far, and now stood lounging against the doorframe...his casual stance concealing the conflicting emotions in his head.

The elder man felt pained...and not just about what was going to happen. But about the thought that he’d been mulling around his head in the last couple of months now.

He didn’t if it would work. Didn’t know if he could risk it. Didn’t know if he could risk not doing it. Didn’t know whether or not he should even bother. Didn’t know...

Didn’t know what the hell to do.

He did know that he was running out of time. Knew that either way, the kid was dead in a matter of minutes. Did know that know only was the kid dead but he– the most un-Hell-worthy soul he knew would be going on a first class trip down South. Knew that Sam would never forgive him if it didn’t work.

And most certainly knew that if it didn’t work, he’d never forgive himself either.

Cause to do it, would be to rob the kids of the last few moments that they had together. And then, if it didn’t work...

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, storming into the kitchen once more.

Dropping into the nearest chair, he dropped his head into his hands. “What the hell am I supposed to do, old buddy,” he muttered. “Should I?” Then he growled. “You’re a stupid son of a bitch, Johnny. You know that? You’re the father. You’re supposed to be here. Not me.”

He paused, shaking his head quietly at the sheer horrific absurdity of the situation the kid was facing in– a glance at his watch– in a matter of minutes.

“And yeah, I know what you did...to save the boy’s life,” he continued quietly. “And I don’t fault you for that, Johnny. You know that. But surprise, surprise. You left me here to deal with trying to save his self-sacrificing soul...which is as damn stubborn as his daddy’s as a matter of fact.”

Taking a quick swipe at his eyes, he thought a lot about the last two days and the secrets all around that had been revealed.

He’d told them about the first time that they’d met their daddy and other such trivial things to keep their mind off of what was about to happen. Told them some more about why he had got into hunting.

Sam– in a rare moment when it had been just the two of them– had finally spilled about that mischievous son of a bitching Trickster and his latest round of fun. Which, side note, he was most definitely going to track down and let him know just exactly what he thought about that.

Dean– in a moment likewise– had finally revealed what John had told him in the hospital right before he’d died, about Sam.

And honestly, that had been the biggest clue that he was on the right track here. When the kid had told him what his father had said– when he’d told him what Johnny had said word for word...and he could have just smacked the kid for getting the message so screwed the hell up, by the way– he was certain that it would work.

At least, almost, anyway.

Unfortunately, it was that last five percent or so that he wasn’t so sure about that was giving him mental fits.

Glancing at the clock.

Eleven forty-eight.

“Son of a bitch, Johnny,” he growled, feeling a pang in his chest.

Making a decision, he stood abruptly and headed for the other room. “Get it together, Singer,” he said firmly, mentally willing his voice to step shaking. “You’re gonna be no help to the kid if you fall apart.”

He knew that he had no choice...because the other choice was to just lay down and die. And not him, but the kid.

And that was damn well unacceptable to him.

He wouldn’t let it happen until he was sure that had done everything in his power to prevent it. But damn, if it wasn’t the hardest thing that he’d ever done. And with all that he’d seen and done over the years, that was certainly saying something.

*

“Dean,” Bobby said carefully coming into the room, licking his lips. “Answer me something...honest answer, okay? No bullshit.”

He nodded, cocking his head toward the elder hunter. “Sure, Bobby,” he said. “What...”

“You trust me?” he said. “And I just don’t mean mutual job type respect. Do you truly trust me to make some hard decisions about you and your brother?”

“Damn straight,” Dean said, looking at him oddly for a moment, not quite understanding what all that could be about. “You know I do. We both do. With my life...”

“I know that kiddo,” he said. “But with your soul, too?”

Sam’s head shot toward the elder man, sitting up with a start. “You mean you’ve found...” he said, a catch in his voice. But before he could finish the thought, Bobby was speaking again.

“Close your eyes for a sec,” he ordered gently, partly because he did not want him to be afraid...and partly just because he didn’t want either of them to be able to stop him. “The both of you.” then he paused. “And, for what it’s worth, kiddo...” he began, something unidentifiable in his gruff voice.

And with that, the eldest hunter grabbed the gun hidden in the waistband of his pants, aimed at the boy that he’d come to consider one of the two sons he never had, swiped at the tears suddenly clouding his vision, and then the normally stoic Bobby Singer pulled the trigger...watching in horror as the boy’s blood spattered across his own face.

“...I’m sorry, son,” he whispered, arm holding the gun dropping bonelessly to his side...the weapon feeling heavy both on his arm and his heart.

TBC :o

:o Oh no! Evil! Come back and finish this NOW!!!!! *end of rant*

Dude, made of awesomeness so far. I need more! Must... know... what... happens....

:o WHAT DID YOU DO???

JJ, get back here and update NOW! Pretty please? :D That was a great start but now, i'm dying wondering what you did. ugh.

OMG! JJ you've started off with a bang! (pun intended) So did he shoot Dean or Sam? I want to know right now!!!! Okay whenver you get the chance. I cannot wait to read more! :cheer

no no no no no no no no!!!!!
u cant leave it there!!
ah!!
update really really soon!!!
:o

OMG!!! :o :o :o
What's Bobby plan to do such thing :o
Terrific start JJ, can't wait to know what happened next, update soon.

WHAT DID YOU DO!!!!!!!!!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!

More more!

What have you done Evil one!!! :evil

Who did Bobby shoot???? COME BACK AND UPDATE NOW!!!!!!

Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeee :cry

hi all, here you go. Hope you like this one. It’s a little shorter than I was planning, but I’m also updating sooner. So, hope you enjoy. And teehee, ‘the evil one’ ...I like it. LOL. Thanks for all your kind comments, you really know how to make a girl’s night after a long crappy day. Hugs. JJ








Part 2:


There was dead silence in the small room for a long moment. Or maybe there was noise and it was just being drowned out by the roaring in his ears over what he had just done. Bobby didn’t know which.

Then, a controlled sort of chaos erupted, just as he knew it would.

Sam’s eyes opened in horror at what just happened. He pressed his fingers onto his brother’s neck...his arm a perfect angle for it, as Dean’s– who’d been sitting close–head lulled lifelessly onto his shoulder.

An anguished cry escaped his lips as he found no pulse between his fingers, feeling completely sick as his hand came away covered by the sour smell of his brother’s blood. He allowed his heart to break for one beat, then turned furious eyes on the man responsible.

“What did you do?” the young distraught hunter growled, something in his gaze much darker than Bobby had ever seen it.

In fact, he’d only seen that look once in his life.

The time the boys had been just tykes and his old friend had nearly lost them when that drunk bastard had plowed into the car, sending both boys to the hospital for one broken bone, a handful of sprains and bumps, and cuts and scrapes all over. When he and Jim had finally pulled Johnny off the guy, the look in his eye had been chilling to say the least.

Chilling to the point of being far past a hunter and more akin to a wounded mama bear that had just watched her cub slaughtered. And it was that same lethal look that he now saw on the kid’s normally gentle face.

“Son, listen...” he began.

“Don’t call me that,” Sam snapped angrily.

Bobby nodded, flinching softly at the harsh reprimand. But, okay, he supposed he deserved that. After all, he had, in fact, just shot the kid’s big brother. “Sammy...”

“And don’t you dare even think about calling me that,” he growled ferociously, still carefully cradling his brother in his arms.

“Fine, Sam,” the elder man said, choosing his words carefully. “Now,” he said, swallowing hard as his gaze traveled to the elder boy. “Before you do anything rash,” he said, holding up his hand. “I want you to understand why I...”

But unfortunately for Bobby, he misjudged his position and kept his gaze trained on the elder brother for a split second too long.

He never even saw the damn kid move, and before he knew if, he had been parted from the weapon in his hand and the blunt end of it was swinging straight for the side of his unprotected head.

Unable to force his tumultuous thoughts away from ‘Dear, God, I really shot the kid’ and closer to where they needed to be at the moment...namely, ‘danger’ ...he didn’t dodge it quite quickly enough and felt pain rip through his skull as the point of impact.

The world went dark for a split second and when he regained his vision, he was lying on his back and staring at his own ceiling through hazy eyes.

“I trusted you, you bastard,” Sam growled furiously. “He trusted you.” He felt a sob welling in his throat. “Dean trusted you...and all this time...” He broke off. “All this time you were just...were you planning on screwing us over all this time. Damn you, you son of a bitch.”

A soft moan escaped Bobby’s lips and he tried to call for the kid– to tell him that that wasn’t it...that it wasn’t like that– but it simply came out in merely a whimper. Gently lifting his hand to his head, wincing when the fingers gently pressed onto the bruised flesh, and was dismayed to realize that it came away covered with blood.

“Don’t worry, Dean,” Sam said firmly, sounding completely determined. “I’m gonna fix this...I’m gonna fix you.”

And that’s what Bobby was afraid of...especially since it wasn’t needed at the moment.

But the kid didn’t know that. He hadn’t gotten the chance to tell him, not wanting the young hunter to try and stop him. And anyway, if he’d told Sam, then he’d a had to of told his brother...and, as Dean knowing could have been construed by evil incarnate as the kid trying to ‘worm’ his way out of the deal, he hadn’t wanted that.

But now the kid was probably gonna go off half or quarter cocked or whatever the hell he was, just like his daddy and brother before him. Damn self-sacrificing sons a bitching Winchesters anyway.

Pains in his ass, the whole lot of them.

But damn it, if they hadn’t managed to get under his skin– he, the self proclaimed unfeeling son of a bitch that he was– had become attached to the big hearted smart-mouthed boys as if they were his own pups.

“Smmmm,” he mumbled, trying to get the kid’s attention. Damn it, kid , he mentally growled, not having the energy to do so aloud. Don’t you do anything we’ll all regret come morning .

But even as he thought it, he was certain that he knew just what the kid was going to do now...something stupid.

Bobby felt his eyelids beginning to droop, the exertion of keeping them open, suddenly too much for him. He tried to call out to the kid...to tell him not to do something stupid. But found that he didn’t have the energy to do that either.

Sam was far too willful and likely to jump to the wrong conclusion when it came to his brother. So, it was no surprise that the boy’d reacted the way he had...though, he couldn’t help but wish that the damn kid would a listened to reason for a second before reacting.

He really didn’t blame the kid though. No, he couldn’t help but be a little bit proud of the damn boy for sticking up for his brother, even as ass backward as it may be...but then again, he was Johnny’s boy, after all.

The elder man stretched out toward the boy, wanting to go to him...wanting to stop him...but unable to do anything but lie in a puddle of his own blood and hope for the best. Hope that he’s given the boys...as in boys, plural, another chance to fight the good fight, so to speak.

Because Bobby had a sinking feeling that, for himself, the fight was officially over.

Through his clouded vision, he watched the young hunter’s departing back with a sad sort of satisfaction. I did it, Johnny, he thought to himself tiredly. I really think I did it. I figured it out, old Buddy. But I think...think that it’s up to the kid now .

The last thing that Bobby saw was a cloud of ominous looking black smoke filling his supposedly protected abode...and with one last whimper, the grizzled older hunter, indeed, stopped fighting and simply gave into the darkness creeping into the edges of his vision.

And then, all was silent.

TBC :unsure:

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! Please don't let Bobby be dead! You're killing me with this story and the evil cliffies! Great job JJ, I'm hooked on this story and I can't wait to read more!!! :cheer

you..just killed DEAN!
WTF??????????????
WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

how can you save him from the deal now,
when he is DEAD!!?!?!?!?!?!

OMG jj what are you doing to the boys! :thud Bobby shooting Dean :uzi and then having Sam knock Bobby unconscious before he can explain to the younger Winchester why he has done it! :o

Guess if Sam wasn't so shocked and emotional about what Bobby had just done he would have realised the older hunter had a plan, there is no way Bobby would have shot Dean without good reason!

Ominous though the black smoke infiltrating Bobby's protected house and him noticing it before he falls unconscious - I refuse to believe there are now two dead hunters! :rolleyes:

Evil cliffy though hon! :D

Sarah

No!Sam didn't give a chance to Bobby to explain why he shot Dean, he must had a plan to save Dean.
What Sam is going to do.
I'm so hooked, I can't wait for more.

hi all, here you go. Hope you like this one. I'm not sure when I'll be able to update again as I'm gonna be pretty busy with work for the next few days. So, I hope this one will tide you over for a bit. Thank you for all your kind comments. I'm so glad that you are all enjoying this one so far. Hope you like it. Hugs, JJ







Part 3:


A lone figure stood watching from its place concealed in the shadows as the hunter exited the house and rushed toward the car...alone. The hidden figure’s eyes shut, helplessly trying to block out the pain on the young man’s face.

“Damn it, Sam,” the figure muttered, voice not audible enough to be heard in the cool night air. “Don’t you dare do what I think you’re about to do.”

But hidden individual simply watched helplessly as the last Winchester stubbornly got into the vehicle and started it up.

Watching until the Impala was out of sight, a lone tear slipped down the figure’s cheek, before softly disappearing into the cold and foreboding night.

*

Sam, for his part, was physically trembling from a combination of murderous rage and wounded disbelief as he wrenched the Impala into drive.

He’d all but come to realize that he wasn’t gonna be able to save his brother. The end of the three hundred and sixty-fifth day had been looming ever closer...as in too damn close.

And he’d wanted to keep grasping at straws but hadn’t been able to deny the desperate plea from his brother’s lips...literally one last request from a dying man. So, he’d simply decided to spend the last day with his brother and start the very next day searching for a way to fix it retroactively.

So, yeah, he’d long since made up his mind that he was gonna lose Dean today– at least for a little while– but for it to happen like this was nearly more than the young hunter could take. Because he’d never truly thought he’d be alone right now...not completely anyway.

In the back of his mind had always been the fact that Bobby would have been right there behind him, helping him and assuring that he didn’t screw things up worse than they already were.

Sam felt a sob begging to escape his chest at the thought as for once in his life, he was really and truly alone.

Cause even as Stanford, he hadn’t been alone...he’d always known that his big brother was only a phone call away. Even with how pissed Dean had been with him when he left, there had never been a doubt in his mind– if he’d of picked up that phone, his brother would have been there in a moment.

And now Dean was gone. Dean was gone and he was all alone. All alone to pick up the pieces. All alone with absolutely no support whatsoever.

Honestly he’d expected to feel numb inside– been counting on it actually– but he wasn’t. The rage he felt burned with a white hot intensity that made him a danger to anyone and anything that he might come into contact with at the moment.

It wasn’t so much Dean dying either. Sure that one hurt like a son of a bitch, but it wasn’t like they hadn’t had fair warning of exactly what was coming. Like a damn cancer eating away at them all.

The young man swiped at his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. No, it was Bobby’s figurative slap in the face that was hitting him so damn hard at the moment.

Because he could honestly say that he had never felt so damn betrayed before.

Not the time when they were kids and a very guilty little Dean told their dad that Sam’d been the one to color on the walls, leading to some not-so-fun one-on-one time over daddy’s knees for the young one until big brother came in and tearfully confessed.

Not the time that Sam’d gotten it in his damn fool head that Jess was cheating on him that time at Stanford...and boy had he felt like a first rate jerk when he figured out that she was only sneaking around because she’d been planning him a surprise birthday party.

And not even when his father had sent him from the room for a damndable cup of coffee so he could give his ‘good soldier’ one last piece of advice. That one hurt like a real bitch too. But, truth was, that down deep, despite just how hurt he’d been by that fact, he understood it...or at least tried to.

Try as he might, the young hunter simply wasn’t able to wrap his mind around the fact that they’d been so damn wrong about Bobby. He’d thought that the man was helping him...helping them...helping Dean.

He’d honestly put all his trust in the conniving back stabber and for him to betray them like this– when he’d come to think of him as the father he no longer had– was positively uncomprehensible.

Maybe there was a reason that their dad had stopped taking them around him after all. They’d lived there as kids off and on for years and then all of a sudden...nothing. No contact from ‘Uncle’ Bobby at all.

Maybe there was something to that...maybe dad had figured out that his supposedly trusted confidant was batting for the other team, so to speak.

Sam swallowed hard, pain evident on his features. His hands were shaking to the point of having trouble keeping the car on the road. And he had the idiotic thought that he couldn’t wreck the precious Impala or his brother would murder him.

Then, realizing what he’d just thought, a hysterical laugh escaped his lips. “Damn it, Sam,” he muttered. “You’re losing it, bud.”

Cause really, if the next few minutes went the way he thought they would...the way he hoped they would...wrecking the car was going to be the least of his worries.

Because, he damn well knew how to fix it...all he had to do was head to the nearest crossroads. Because he knew without a doubt that he had one more bargaining chip.

One thing that he could offer up in exchange for his brother’s soul.

One final shot that he damn well knew would work.

One last thing to offer that the other side wouldn’t be able to pass up on.

Sam swallowed the painful lump in his throat as it was the one thing that he hadn’t wanted to offer.

The one thing that he knew Dean would be beyond pissed at him for giving up.

The one thing that he no longer had a choice but to offer up.

The one damn thing that he knew he could offer that would completely unequivocally set things back to the way they once were...the way that he’d suspected for sometime now things were actually supposed to be.

The one damn thing that he could offer that would fix things.

The only thing that he could think of to offer up that would save Dean...

...himself.

*

The figure reappeared inside the house and surveyed the chaos of the room. The swirling fog of demon smoke was dismaying, to say the least...the swirling cloud of black smoke that was pouring into every orifice of the room ominously, suffocating all that remained inside.

But even more frightening was the grizzled older hunter and the pool of blood surrounding his head.

“Damn it, Singer,” the figure said, voice pained as he stooped down next to the wounded man and unresponsive man. “Not like this...please, never like this.”

TBC ;)

Awesome update JJ!!! :clap :clap :clap I'm guessing that the shadowy figure is John. At least I hope it is. Don't do it Sammy b/c Dean will kill you for even thinking about. Poor Bobby, I hope he's not dead. I can't wait to read more!

Like Irishgirl, I'm guessing the shadowy figure is John but think he should be going after Sammy rather than into Bobby's house! Relieved the older hunter is just unconscious though! :mellow:

Sounds like Sam is off to the crossroads to make a deal, something Dean would so kick his arse for - but who is going to stop him! :unsure:

Sarah

Sam, don't trade yourself for Dean.
Bobby, time to wake up and explain what you've in mind when you decided to shoot Dean.
I hope that the shadowy figure it's John.

So much suspense, I can't wait for more.

i was thinking that the shadowy figure was dean, like maybe since he wasnt killed by hell hounds that now he's just able to lurk in between the world, just like in IMTOD before having to make a choice to either stay in between or go on, like with the reaper in IMTOD.

but still
SAMMY MANN! GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF! CAUSE IF YOU WRECK THE IMPALA, DEAN MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO MURDER YOU, BUT I CAN!!!!

Interesting thought there, that the shadowy figure could be Dean, hadn't looked at it from that angle! :) Guess we will have to wait until jj reveals all! :huh:

Sarah

hi all, here you go. Hope you like this one. And once more, damn, can't get nothing by you all. Guess you know me too well. Oh, and by the way, this story (now officially AU, I guess) simply pretends that last week's episode never happened. All things revealed there, I'm simply pretending never happened. So, it should be spoiler free in that respect. Anywho, hope you like this one. Hugs, JJ









Part 4:


“Damn it, not like this, old buddy. Never like this,” the figure said, voice cracking slightly with emotion that had suddenly lodged itself in his throat.

The man flickered in and out once as a sob welled in his chest. “I’m sorry, Singer,” he said, with a whisper as he leaned in and closed the elder man’s eyes. “But I’ll never be able to repay you for what you did to save my boys.”

He stared down at his friend for a long moment before he flickered once. “Thanks, old buddy. I’ll never forget it.”

And then he disappeared completely from the room to try and stop his youngest from doing something that he couldn’t take back in dawn’s first light.

*

Sam exited the car, not even bothering to shut the door behind him. He didn’t grab a weapon. Didn’t snag any holy water of exorcism rituals. Didn’t bother to pull out the knife from his boot.

Honestly just didn’t give a damn.

Besides, he wasn’t planning on fighting...just accepting what he’d put off for so long now.

Dean would have wanted to go down fighting. But Sam...well, Sam...just wanted to save his brother by any means necessary.

The young hunter walked to the point where the two roads intersected and simply dropped to his knees, shoulders slumped and head down in utter desperation.

He didn’t bother burying the little box in the Impala’s trunk. Didn’t even bother to rattle off the summoning ritual that he’d memorized three hundred and sixty-four days ago.

Didn’t bother. Because he knew the demon’d come anyway. He was certain of at least that much.

All he had to do was wait.

*

The fog swirled around and around, building with both speed and intensity to almost a fever pitch. It swirled around one unmoving body, dipping down toward it and then abruptly switching directions.

It swirled once more and then settled on the other man.

Then all at once, one dead hunter stood, stretched and a slow lazy grin played on his lips. “This’ll do nicely,” the man said. “This one will do real nicely.”

And a malicious chuckle filled the air as the hunter smiled once more and vacated the premises.

*

Sam had no idea how long he stayed in that position, kneeling, feeling the gravel digging into his knees. Could have been minutes. Could have been hours. Time had lost all sense of meaning for the young hunter.

A few tears slipped unnoticed from his eyes as he shook with emotions that his stubborn Winchester pride refused to allow himself to shed.

And time crept ever onward.

Then all at once, he felt a shadow fall over him.

Show time.

Not even bothering to look up, he didn’t move. “Give me back my brother.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” a frighteningly familiar voice said. “You’ve already got him.”

And Sam’s head shot upward, actually feeling nauseous at the sight of the normally jade eyes, now shining a deep ebony. “Dean...” he said, a strangled gasp escaping his lips. “No,” he whimpered. “Don’t do this...please,” he said, defeat evident in his voice. “Not Dean.”

“Gah,” he said. “Please...needy guys are such a turn off.”

And it was only then that the young hunter truly got it. “You,” he said with a feral snarl. “You little bitch.” He could barely restrain himself from doing something drastic.

A light chuckle escaped the elder brother’s lips. “Touchy aren’t we?”

“Get the hell out of my brother.”

But another laugh was his only response. “Sounds vaguely naughty, if you ask me.”

“You listen to me, you little bitch,” Sam snarled. “Either you get out of my brother, Meg, or I’ll...”

“I not Meg,” he said, a ghost of a grin playing on his lips. “At least not anymore...I’m Dean now.” His grin turned smug. “And I don’t think you’re in any position to make demands right not, hon.”

Sam swallowed hard, knowing better than to smart off to the little she-bitch wearing his brother at the moment. “You’re the one holding his contract,” he said matter-of-factly, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. “How...”

She grinned. “Not at first,” the demon said, jade eyes shining brightly, looking much more ominous than the previous black ones.

Cause seriously, this was just wrong on so many levels. And he couldn’t help but think that Dean would be mad to have his corpse possessed by anyone...but her?

Whew, he’d be beyond pissed.

“..guess, you could say that I inherited it from dear old dad," she continued.

And that one did give the young hunter pause. “Azazul,” he said, licking his lips. He supposed it made sense, that yellow eyed bastard having it all along...what better way to get his favorite chew-toy to do his evil bidding.

Meg grinned maliciously. “Your son of a bitch brother took him from me...then I took your brother from you.” She laughed then, the tittering sound, seeming strange from his brother’s lips. “Seemed, I don’t know, somehow fitting, I guess.”

Sam nodded once, he couldn’t fault the logic. Not when her plan all along had been to get to him– as he was sure it was...like daddy like bitch of a daughter, he always said– and taking Dean was the damn best way to do that. “So following dear old dad’s footsteps, I see,” he said at last.

The demon looked at him pointedly. “I could say the same thing, Sammy,” she said, lips curling up seductively. “Following the mighty John Winchester’s twisted all consuming agenda for revenge.”

“Nah,” the hunter said, finally gathering his wits about him enough to pull himself to his feet. This was Meg...this he could do. This was an old foe and he knew just how to handle her...or at least, he hoped so. “Dad would be pissed as hell at what I was here for...let’s just say that I’m here following my own agenda.”

“Oh, yeah...”

“Yeah,” Sam said, licking his parched lips once more. “I want my brother’s soul to go where it was originally supposed to go before he made this dumbass deal to save me...you don’t even have to bring him back to life...just let his soul go where it should.” At this point, he wasn't looking for miracles, just didn't want his brother suffering.

“And what makes you think that his soul isn’t right where it should have been all along.”

“Cause I damn well know my brother,” Sam said simply, his arm itching for the weapon that didn’t have. “And nobody’s less hell bound than him.”

She snorted, one hand on Dean’s hip, the other one dangling at the man’s side. “And what in the hell could you possibly have gotten into your addled brain that would make you think that I would do that?”

“Cause,” he said. “I think I’ve got something that you want.”

“What?” she sneered. “Your soul?”

“No,” Sam said licking his lips.

He shut his eyes for a brief moment. Dean would be so pissed at him. Hell, even dad would be pissed at him right then.

“You do what I want and I’ll...”

Son of a bitch, he cursed silently as a lone tear found its way down his cheek. This wasn’t quite as easy at he’d thought it would be.

“...I’ll...I will stop fighting and do what your father wanted me to do.”

“Sure that’s what you want to do?” she said simply, licking her lips, as she reached around and pulled out the colt from her back. “You want Dean back or you want me dead?”

Sam stopped cold for a long moment, simply staring at the gun and all it could mean.

“Go on,” she said. “Take it.” She pressed it into his hands.

He held onto it for a long moment. “How did you get this?”

“Please,” she said simply. “You think that it was hard to separate it from that little bitch,” she said. “Child’s play.”

And still he stared at it silently before finally laying it down on the ground and ignoring it completely. “I’d rather save Dean.” Dean’d be pissed at that, but he was beyond caring by this point. “I’ll do anything to save my brother...same as he’s done for me.”

And Meg grinned, Dean’s lips twisting into a delighted smile...that’s what she’d been counting on. “I have your word on that?” she asked. “A soldier on our side...you really think that a goody two shoes like you could do that?”

He nodded, as she leaned in toward him for a kiss. “If it means saving Dean...we both know that I’d do anything.” He swallowed hard. “But can I ask you something?”

“Sure, sweetheart,” she said, twirling his fingers in his hair. “Ask away.”

“Why...I thought you weren’t interested in the whole demon war thing."

She rolled Dean’s eyes. “Think about it, college boy,” she said. “Maybe not then...but your bitch of a brother killed somebody real important to me." She paused. “So, we have a deal or not?”

Sam nodded. Beyond grossed out by being inches away from kissing his own brother on the lips, he was still damn well willing to do whatever necessary to save his brother...even sacrifice himself.

His lips were a mere breath’s distance away when another voice suddenly startled the night air.

“No,” a familiar voice said firmly. “You don’t...and, Sam, you’re damn right I’m pissed at you for trying this, kid,” the voice said, gruff with emotion.

He spun around at the sound of the voice and came up short as he found himself staring into the eyes of his dead father. “Dad...” he said, voice strangled.

TBC B)

Bobby's dead??? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! :cry :cry :cry

Okay, now that that's out of my system, Great update JJ!!!! :clap :clap :clap It's Meg? Great tiwst with that! I never would have guessed. I hope John can stop Sam from doing something rash. I can't wait to read more!!!

aw shucks it was john
man i thought for sure that everybody else got it that it wasnt going to be john
[hangs head]

SNIFF SNIFF I NEVER GET IT RIGHT! lol
jk!!!

anyways, OMGEE SAM NO DONT DO IT!
I'LL TEAR YOU A NEW ONE!

OMG Bobby is actually dead, or are you spinning us a line there jj! :unsure: :o

Good job John turned up just as Sam was going to seal that deal, and he will be pissed at his youngest! :rolleyes: Just hope John has something up his sleeve to get them out of this situation! :huh:

Sarah

Bobby is dead :cry
No!Meg is possessing Dean's body.
And Sam is ready to do anything to have Dean back.
The shadowy figure is John, hope he'll find a way to save his sons from Meg and other demons.
Gripping chapter JJ, can't wait to know what'll happen next.

all I can say is WOW :thud I'm really looking forward to what happens next.

hi all, OMG, I just love you guys. you all know how to make a girl's day. Hope you enjoy this one. Thanks for all your kind words. Hugs, JJ








Part 5:


“Well, if this isn’t a cozy family reunion,” Dean’s voice said smugly. “A dead Dean, baby Sammy, and daddy makes three...how sweet.”

But both men ignored her completely, simply lost staring into each other’s eyes.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, kiddo,” John said firmly, his gentle smile a stark contrast to his biting words. “You even thing about doing this and...well, let’s just say, don’t think that you’re too old for a fatherly ass kicking of epic proportions, little boy.”

All Sam, for his part, was able to get out was another strangled, “Dad...” as he simply watched, transfixed, the sight before him.

His dad was there…but not there, clearly not alive anymore.

His dad was dead.

His dead dad was here.

Sill...or again...or, whatever.

And despite all his supernatural training, he couldn’t seem to make his mind comprehend what the hell he was seeing.

“What’s a matter, Sammy,” John said, smiling softly. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

It was an opening that normally even the less smart-assed brother would not have been able to pass up on...the chance for some sarcastic comment. But right then, all Sam could do was stare and blink occasionally.

He stood as still as a statue as his father crossed toward him.

It was really him...from his broad shoulders to his tall and firm stature to the scar above his right eye from his last battle with old yellow eyes.

He thought he might have said ‘dad’ again but wasn’t sure it the words were audible or not. But, he realized that he must have as John nodded.

The father reached for his son and tenderly wiped away the tears that Sam didn’t even know were falling, only to have more take their place. John gently reached out his hand and let it rest on his son’s shoulder. Sam’s breath hitched at the contact...contact he’d been wishing for, for so long...contact he’d been sure he would never feel again.

Unbeknownst to him, his tears began falling faster still and his father gently squeezed the young hunter’s shoulder reassuringly.

“You’re...you’re...” he said with a whimper.

“Yeah, kiddo,” John said softly. “I know...bet it’s a bit of a surprise to see your old man here, huh?”

Sam laughed suddenly. “Yes, sir,” he said, giving his father a watery laugh.

“I know, son,” he said gently before turning his attention to his other son. Standing next to his boy, the ghost of a father stood tall and proud as he stared evenly at the demon possessing his son’s body. “And you,” he said firmly, voice telling that he was damn well not playing around. “Get the hell out of my son.”

Meg glared back at him, but couldn’t help but step backward just a step.

“Not feeling so sure of yourself all of a sudden, I see,” he said, a smug grin playing on his lips.

“Go to hell,” the demon said, eyes flashing black for a split second.

“No,” John countered. “You first.”

She grinned then. “No,” she said, her own smug grin then. “Dean first...less’n of course, Sammy here does some fancy ass kissing.”

Sam took one step toward her only to be stopped as the elder man placed an incredibly solid...for a ghost anyway...hand on his chest.

“Once again, Junior,” the father growled, propelling him backward and away from the present danger. “Try it and you’ll be one sorry little boy. Got it?”

The young hunter swallowed hard, not quite able to get out the ‘yes, sir’ that his father was expecting...but then again, his having a problem with that not a knew phenomenon. “It’ll save Dean, dad,” he said quietly, dropping his gaze away. “Thought that’d make you happy.”

And for one long moment, the clearing was completely still. No one moved. And Sam, the only one actually breathing, didn’t do that either.

Then, all at once, John spun on his son, his eyes looking positively. “Sammy,” he said, his voice icily quiet...a tone, which both his sons knew well from their childhood, meant business.

“Dad...”

“Shut up, Sam,” he snapped. “There is a time and a place for this conversation...and this ain’t it, kid,” he said. “Yeah, maybe I wouldn’t have won father of the year, cause we all know that I’ve made some mistakes with you boys. So, you wanna give me shit about that, then I guess I can deal,” he said, staring into his youngest son’s eyes. “But I won’t let you think that...I won’t be dragged into a ‘good soldier, son of a bitch daddy’ conversation with you...at least not right now...and I sure as hell won’t let you do something so damn asinine cause you think it is what I want,” he said, actually yelling by the time he was finished.

“Gee,” Meg said, Dean’s voice sounding hoarse with her tinny words. “Someone’s pissy today.”

“Shut up,” both Winchesters snapped at once, never even bothering to look at her...or...him...or...it...or, whatever.

John’s anger deflated just as suddenly as it began at one look at the devastation of his younger boy’s face. “Damn it, Sammy,” he said softly, placing his hand once more on the boy’s shoulder. “Did you really think that I would choose your brother over you...that I could choose one son over the other. I could never do that, Sam,” he said earnestly. “You’ve got to believe me, son. I never wanted this.”

The young man blew out a shaky breath. He tried to keep his voice strong and unfeeling, but still when he spoke, the heartache was clear in his voice. “How can I not think that,” he said quietly, pain evident in his voice. “You told Dean that he might have to kill me,” he said, voice breaking.

The father nodded suddenly, finally realizing what this was about. “No, Sam,” he said simply. “I didn’t.”

“Damn it, dad,” Sam snapped. “Don’t lie to me.”

“No, Sammy,” John said earnestly. “I can honestly swear to you...swear on your mama’s soul that I never told your brother that.”

TBC :blink:

ooh wtf? john didnt tell dean that?
THEN WHO DID??
azael was possessing john or something

oohnesss
update soon!

wtf!
who told dean then!
im so confused!
and bobby...is DEAD!
no :cry

update fast!!!!!
:lol:

What! :thud John never told Dean that he might have to kill Sam! :thud Can't wait for your explanation of that! :D

Glad that John has told Sam in no uncertain terms if he tries anything stupid he will kick his arse :rolleyes: Good job John is there to stop his youngest :)

Must be really disconcerting for both of them to see Dean's body possessed by Meg!

Sarah

Weird family reunion.
What!!!John never told to Dean that maybe one day he'd have to kill Sam :huh:
The plot thickens, very intriguing.
Gripping story so far JJ, can't wait for more.

Hi all, here you go. Hope you like this one, although, after last night’s amazing eppy, I know that it can’t measure up to that. (Here’s to feeling grossly inadequate and bowing to Kripke’s mastery). But if you’re all still wanting to read, I’m planning on continuing to write. Anywho, enjoy, folks. And I promise, I will explain about the cliffy in the last chapter...eventually. Mwahahaha. LOL. Hope you all like this one. Hugs, JJ.






Part 6:


Sam bristled angrily. “You think I’m stupid?” he snapped, voice breaking on the last word. “You really think I’m so stupid that I’d believe that?”

John stared into his youngest son’s eyes. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“What?” he said, stopping short, that having been the last thing he’d expected.

“It’s simple, kid,” the father said, never breaking eye contact no matter how much the boy tried to do just that. “For me to be lying now, I’d have to be a liar. So, just tell me...tell me one time that I’ve ever lied to you.”

“But...”

“No,” the elder hunter said, holding up his hand to stop his son’s protests. “I have never lied to you, son,” he said. “More often than not, been brutally honest to the point that you probably thought me a real son of a bitch...but tell me one time that I have ever lied to you.” He tipped his son up with his knuckle. “Cause for me to be lying now, I’d have to be a liar.”

Sam dropped his gaze. “I know you’re not a liar, sir.”

“Thanks, Sammy,” John said softly, feeling a fuzzy feeling that he hadn’t felt since those final moments in the hospital with his sons...because, after all, he damn well was a liar in every since of the word, even if he wasn’t, in fact, lying at the moment.

While a part of him felt guilty that his boy didn’t think so, but another part of him was secretly pleased too that despite his and his youngest’s butting heads constantly that the boy still secretly believed in him.

And, for the bone weary father, that damn well meant more to him that anything.

Sam swallowed hard. “Dean said that you said ‘wat...”

“I told your brother to watch out for you,” John said, pushing his troubled thoughts to the back of his mind, at the confused look on his boy’s face. “‘Watch out for Sammy’ I said. The same way that I’ve done every day of your life since the night you were six months old and I pressed your squirming, shrieking, little body into his arms to carry you out of the house.”

“Then, what...”

“I can’t just now, kiddo,” the father said earnestly. “There’s just not enough time now. But I swear to you that I will...soon.” He looked his boy in the eye. “Just know that for damn sure I never wanted you to do this.”

“Yes, sir,” the young hunter said, for once in his life not fighting him on it, simply feeling too affected by the bitch in his brother’s body and, if he was honest with himself, simply wanting his father to ‘fix it’ for him...for them.

And truth be told, he didn’t want this either. He wanted his brother back, and would damn well do anything to get him back, but most definitely didn’t want to have to do what he’d come here to do.

If his father had another way...

“How touching,” Meg interrupted, looking positively pissy at being ignored. She began to circle them both like a vulture, doing everything but draping herself across the younger hunter to try and re-divert their attention to herself once more.

“I mean it, son,” John continued. “If I could have gotten my hands on your brother when he made that deal, I’d a kicked his ass for making the deal that he made...and I don’t mean for saving you either. Don’t get that damn fool idea in your head,” he warned. "I mean for sacrificing his soul. Same reason that I’m sure damn tempted to kick yours now.” He tipped his son’s chin up with his knuckle. “Do you understand me?” he said. “I would never choose one of you over the other and damn well never wanted either of you two to have to make that kind of choice either.”

“Awww,” she cooed. “So beautiful...but time’s a ticking, Sammy,” she whispered seductively into his ear. “Probably ought to make up your mind what you’re gonna do before Dean here starts stinking up the place.”

“Screw you,” the father growled.

And the demon just laughed all the harder. “Sorry, Johnny,” she said. “You’re really not my type.” Then she glanced down at her current meat-suit. “Besides,” she smirked. “I think there are laws against that, old man.”

Then she licked her lips, cocking her head toward Sam. “Now, you, on the other hand...” she said, allowing her voice to trail off as she leaned in and nibbled on his ear and laughing delightedly at his shudder. “Almost enough to make a bad girl go good.” She shrugged. “Or maybe a good guy go bad.”

“Go to hell,” the eldest hunter snapped, bristling as his head snapped upward. “You little bitch.”

“You first,” the demon said. “And, guess what...seems that we’re going in circles here, hon.”

John glared at her for a long moment, the bitch and all her relatives having been a royal pain in his ass for far too long now. But he had one play left. He knew that his son wouldn’t disappoint him, not after he’d driven that very fact into his head for years. He’d have it, of that he was sure. “Sammy,” he said, nodding at him. “Jean hip pocket...left side.”

Sam looked at his father questioningly for a long moment, before slipping his hands in his pocket, fingers clasping around the object there. His eyes widened, having forgotten all about that. “How did you...”

The father shrugged, smiling softly at him. “Easy, kiddo,” he said simply, nodding toward him. “I know that cause I know my son.”

The younger man looked at his father, the question clear on his face, wondering whether or not he should do what his father was telling him.

“You trust me?” John said, finally letting go of his son’s face.

“Yes, sir,” Sam said licking his lips, and nodding, not even having to think about it. His father might have pissed him off nearly on a daily basis as he’d been growing up. But that was one thing that he’d never had to question. He trusted the man implicitly.

Not able to fathom why he had suddenly transformed into the ‘how high should I jump, sir’ obedient son, he knew that he’d do whatever his father asked.

Hell, after all, for his entire life, he’d bitched about Dean’s good soldier act, and here he was, having turned into that very same thing. But, he couldn’t even express just how damn good it felt to let somebody else make the decisions for a change...to let everything fall on someone else’s shoulders instead of his own.

“That’s it,” Meg said, glaring at the two hunters. “Time’s up, buddy boy. I’m out of here.”

The elder hunter stared at his father for a long moment, his eyes flicking to his brother’s dead body for a brief moment. And it was at that precise moment that John moved. He leaned toward his son and whispered five little words into his son’s ear.

Sam’s eyes opened, shock evident on his features, as he absorbed his father’s message. “You mean...”

John nodded silently, never averting his gaze. He knew that they’d only get one shot at this and that they had to play it correctly or he’d lost both his boys tonight instead of just one.

“You’re sure?”

A nod.

“I mean, damn sure,” Sam pressed. “Like without a doubt sure?’

“Think about it, kid,” the father said simply. “Why else would she choose to come here possessing him?”

The young hunter turned murderous eyes on the bitch in his brother.

Meg froze in the young hunter’s body, suddenly unsure of herself at the look of pure unadulterated rage on the younger man’s face. Damn it, had the father really figured it out? “The hell with this. I’m out of here,” she said, preparing to make a quick exit.

And Sam, for his part, simply reacted.

Dropping to one knee he wrenched the tiny vial of Holy Water from his pocket...the one he always carried there, no matter what...splashing it into his brother’s face, having to remind himself that it was Meg and not Dean emitting that tortured heartwrenching scream.

And with one fluid move, Sam scooped up the discarded weapon and aimed, instantly having the demon in his proverbial cross hairs and said, voice cold, “say goodnight, bitch.”

TBC :unsure:

:o Holy Crap!!! I love it!!! Can't wait for more!!!

Cindy!!!

Great chapter jj! :)

Just hope John is 100% sure here, or Sam will be more than p*ssed at his father! :rolleyes:

You just love to leave us hanging girl! :rotfl

Sarah

Wow! Oh wow!!! Two wonderful updates!!! :clap :clap :clap I loed both of them. John's words to Sam were so touching! I can't wait to read more!!!

holy mother of god
what has happened
too much for my little mind to absord
so JOHN didnt say what dean thought he said
but he did say watch out for sammy
but did he mean so dean could TOTALLY LIKE EFFING KILL HIM
or so dean could TOTALLY LIKE EFFING SAVE HIM
cause we all know sammy has like a permeant target on his back that says
demons! come get me! WHEE
lol

soo whha

did sam just shoot dean/meg/demon!

:o What a cliffhanger, I want more already.

hi all, here you go. Hope you like this one. It tells the next part from several different points of view. THis one has Meg and John. Sam's will be in the next chapter (which hopefully will be up tomorrow as it's all done except for the proofing. Hope you like it. Thanks for all your kind words. Hugs, JJ.










Part 7:


Meg froze at the sight of the gun.

The one thing she’d been counting on was that chucklehead number two was too damn lost in his grief to realize the truth about chucklehead number one...that the normally smart son of a bitch would have been too lost without big brave and stupid there to protect him.

Damn John Winchester anyway. Damn him bloody well back to hell, if she had her way.

“Go ahead and shoot,” she said, a hand on the elder brother’s hip cheekily. “And yeah, I’ll be dead...the big brave hunter will have rid the world of poor little evil me...at the expense of his big brother’s soul, of course.” She said, grinning ruefully. “The big brother who damned himself to save your stupid sorry ass, I might add.”

“Last warning, bitch,” Sam said coldly, still in a crouch, gun in perfect position. “Get out of my brother...or die.”

Damn if he wasn’t serious too. She licked her lips. Just like those damn Winchesters. Always screwing up the best laid plans.

But if she could time it right, maybe...just maybe...her plan could still work.

Cause truth be told, she could care less about her father’s master plan and all that jazz. After all, she was a son of a bitch...in ever sense of the word. Dear old Azazel had been a first class sadistic bastard in his day, and not in the good way either...even to his own children.

Nah, she couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the damn demonic war...all she cared about was making Sammy boy suffer. That’s what gave her her jollies of late.

And if she could time it right, there was still one way to do that. Risky, yes...but one risk that she was willing to take.

“The brother who you obviously don’t care enough about to...”

“Shut the hell up,” Sam said coldly, his arm seeming to shake on its own accord.

“Shoot me,” she taunted coldly. “Go ahead...that’s what Dean would want you to do.”

“I know,” the young hunter said, voice trembling ever so slightly.

“Sam...” John said carefully, voice cracking slightly under the strain of what was happening.

“Can you really do, Sammy,” the demon taunted further...knowing that she only had to push him the slightest bit further and he would snap. All she had to do was time her exit correctly and the poor schmuck would never be the same. “You really got the balls.”

“What do you think?”

“I think that your far too much your daddy’s son,” Meg taunted further. “He didn’t have the balls to finish you off and he knew what you were destined to become and you’re too much of a wimpy Mama’s boy to shoot your brother now.”

“Sammy...” the father continued. “What are you...”

“That so?” he asked, a catch in his voice.

“You really think that you could shoot your own brother?” the demon asked, matter-of-factly.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Sam said, a cold gleam in his eye.

And with that he pulled the trigger, his father’s desperate ‘Sammy, no’ echoing just as loudly as the old weapon’s retort in the still night air.

*

John watched with a sad sort of heartsickness, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since her son of a bitch daddy had used his own body to torment his boys.

It was like a pileup on the I95: a real horror show, but one that he wasn’t able to avert his gaze away from.

Damn it, kiddo, he muttered silently, trying to figure out what the hell his son was doing.

Had the boy somehow not understood?

Had he not understood the significance of what he’d told him?

The father watched, feeling physically sick, as his son pointed the colt and wanted nothing more than to stop it from happening...but found himself to damn weak to do anything but stare in vain.

And John didn’t understand it. In all his experience...and he could honestly call himself an expert on the damn subject...the longer a ghost is in existence, the strong it becomes. But for him, somehow, it seemed just the opposite held true...just one more thing in his life that was ass backwards apparently.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion...almost as if he were viewing it through a fog. Happened every time he materialized for any length of time.

Which was the main reason that he hadn’t appeared to his sons before now, figuring that it more important to be here to help Sam now than to give into his own selfish needs to seem them. But he always had put his own desires in a far second to his own boy’s safety...though he was sure that especially his youngest would clearly disagree.

He’d watched them from afar, just out of sight. Though, more than once, he’d seen one of the both of them looking over their shoulder almost as if sensing him there.

John flickered in and out once. cursing silently for his current state of weakness. Because apparently his energy reserve wasn’t going to be enough. The father could tell that this was not going to be his fight any longer.

Much to his utter agony, he was helpless to stop whatever was going to happen.

This was just going to have to play out, the pieces falling where they may. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept.

It was all up to his boy now.

And the father could only hope that he’d taught his son well enough...that he’d been enough of a son of a bitch drill sergeant over the years...that he’d made his baby boy hate him enough times over the years that...that Sam would be able to see this through to the very end.

He stood helpless to stop what was happening. Too weak to do anything now, he simply watched as a silent observer in this last battle that had been festering for well more than two decades.

John flickered in and out once more, a silent prayer of ‘please figure it out, baby’ playing on his lips. Because He knew without a doubt that, in ever since of the word, it was the kid’s fight now.

TBC :blink:

Great update JJ!!! :clap :clap :clap I hate Meg. She so evil! Il's late and I know there's more I want ti say about this chapter, but my mind's drawing a blank. I can't wait to read more!!!

very good update :) I agree with irishgirl saying that I hate Meg lol. Can't wait for the next chapter.

hahaha i love meg! oh wait, is the general consensus hate?
umm
meg totally sucks! i hate her soooo much!
lol
no srsly, meg is like one of those bad people you have to love
aww man, he just shot me! but hey, he was a damn good charmer wasnt he? yeah and he was pretty cool, you know until he shot me and all, but hey maybe we can still hang out, as long as we dont shoot eachother...
lol love/hate relationship??
anyway
SAM BETTER NOT HAVE SHOT DEAN in the head at least, or in the heart.
anywhere else is fine, bc dean can live through it
:) :)
it wouldnt be the first time :D :D