Summary:  The last year of Dean's life is full of demon killing, anger, angst, and life with his brother.
Spoilers:  Set post "All Hell Breaks Loose - Part 2".
Disclaimer:  All things "Supernatural" belong to Kripke.

The snow came down in a blinding white blanket to cover the road in front of the Impala, Dean turned on the windshield wipers and swore under his breath, “Damn frigid weather, can’t see a freak in’ thing out here”.

Sam reached down and switched the defroster knob up higher.

“Well, what do you expect, we are in North Dakota in the middle of February”, Sam nodded his head toward the weather outside the window.

“I know, leave it to us to find a hunt in a blizzard”. Dean reached his gloved hand up to wipe the fog from the front windshield. Sam shifted in the seat and pulled his coat up tighter around his neck, peering out the passenger window.

“We could stop”, Dean hand gripped the steering wheel tighter as the car fishtailed on the black ice.

“But, we need to get there, people are dying”, Sam whispered in a low voice.

Dean grimaced, while helping innocents was his calling, driving in the middle of a snowstorm wasn’t. Dean was trying hard to do what Sam needed him to do, to support him. As he drove he was absorbed in his own thoughts, still mentally counting down his own days, the days till the end of his life…day 201, he thought as his hands gripped even tighter on the steering wheel cutting the blood off to his fingertips.

Dean thoughts kept coming back to Homerville, Pennsylvania. The hunt that was causing Dean’s thoughts to run rampant, questions popping into his mind. They had still not discussed it, while it bothered him that the topic had never come up; Dean knew they would, when Sammy was ready.

Sam had been distant since that night at the orphanage. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, analyzing, and rethinking what had occurred. Dean was aware of his behavior, but he had lived with his brother for 23 years, he knew his brother, knew how his mind worked, and why, and so he just accepted it, the waiting. Sam was trying to understand what had happened, and Dean would give him that time, when he was ready, he would talk. So, for now, Dean concentrated on the road, counting down days, hunting the evil that walked the world, and kept his questions and opinions to himself.

Sam was once again staring out at the snowflakes that fell quietly to the ground, his thoughts a thousand miles away, over thinking what had happened at the orphanage. While he wanted to believe he had moved the door with his broad shoulder, he knew in reality, he had not. He recalled the anger, the over bearing urge to protect his brother that had radiated from him. When the door had swung open, he had felt it, as if he had pushed it with his mind. The powerful calm that overcame him in the moment he stared at the form of the child ghost that was hurting his brother. The will that flowed from him to the ghost, “Get away from my brother”, he felt it,

overpowering the spirit; pushing his will upon it. Then, watching as the ghost swirled and misted into the night, knowing at that moment, the spirit had gone right back in the gates of hell. Not understanding it, but knowing it, feeling it, he knew he had saved his brother with mind control.

The boys were heading to Devils Lake, North Dakota. They were just outside of Fargo on Highway 29 when the blizzard overcame them. The storm warnings were blaring on the radio, the wind howling and whistling around the car.

“Dean, I think we are going to have to stop”, Sam gripped the dashboard hard with both hands as the car shimmed on the snowy road.

“Sorry, dude, I know you wanted to get to Devils Lake, but I agree, this weather is a bitch! Look for a place to pull over”. Dean removed his gloves so he could grip the steering wheel tighter, begging the car to stay in his control, trying to stay on the road, The car begin to swerve, the tail spinning around on the icy road.

“Hang on Sammy”, Dean yelled as the car careened off the road and down the icy slope. Dean turned the wheel quickly, trying to gain control, but he lost the battle as the car went slip sliding into a tree, hitting with a hard thud.

Dean awoke slowly to the humming of the Impala’s engine, his mind fuzzy. He lifted his hand from the steering wheel to his forehead, it was damp, was that blood, he wondered. As he sat their in a few foggy moments, his head began to clear…where was Sam? “S..a..m”, he slurred slowly. Nothing, only the sound of the car sputtering and then coming to a complete stop as the engine died from the collision with the tree. The last five minutes came flooding back to Dean in one brief moment, the car, the snowstorm, Sammy. Dean blinked his eyes and reached into his coat pocket for his penlight, turning it on, he shinned it directly to the passenger side. Sam was leaning, his head against the passenger window, glass shattered into little spider webs all around his long locks, blood intermingled in the window.

“Sammy”, he whispered and leaned over toward his brother. Reaching his hand out he brushed Sam’s hair away so he could see his face. Sam was unconscious, his breath even, blood running down his face and into his closed eyes.

Dean quickly grabbed a tee shirt from the duffle of dirty clothes on the back seat and used it to wipe the blood away.

“Sammy…Sammy… come on little brother, wake up”.

Sam groaned a small noise and his head turned so slightly. Dean pulled him away from the window and leaned him into his chest as he examined the lacerations on the side of his face, glass cuts along his hairline, pieces of glass sticking out of his check and eyebrow.

“Gees, Sammy, you’re a mess”. Dean pushed the tee shirt into the bloody cuts trying to stop the bleeding. Sam moaned again, and his eyes fluttered open into slits.

“De…Dean”, Sam looked at Dean with a confused look on his face,” Where are we? What…happened?”

“Sh…sh….it’s okay Sammy, we just slid off the road in the snow storm, remember”, Dean's voice soft, as he leaned Sammy back on the seat.

“Mmm”, Sam slurred as his eyes opened a little wider.

“Sam. I got to shine this light in your eyes, okay, I need to see about a concussion…okay? Sam, do you hear me”.

“Mmm ...co...cold”

Dean reached the penlight up to shin in Sam’s eyes.

“St…top it”, Sam swung one hand up to knock the light away. One eye dilated, one not.

“Shit”, Dean moved the light quickly away from Sam’s face. “Sorry, Sammy, its okay, just sit still”.

“Kay…” Sam slurred out in one short breath.

Dean grabbed a towel from the dirty clothes in back and draped it over Sam’s shoulders. Hell, he knew dirty laundry would come in handy sometime, at least to keep Sam from going into shock. Sam’s head lolled to the side, leaning up against Dean.

“Shit…shit… shit…”, Dean breathed out, “Okay, okay; what to do, what to do. Think, Winchester. Heat…Sammy needs to be warm”. He put his hand down and turned the key of the Impala, the engine turning over with a light groan. Pumping the gas pedal, he turned the key again, the engine coming to life with a slow roar. Dean reached his hand out and turned the heat up, placing both the vents so they were facing Sam.

He reached his hand into his blue jean pocket and grabbed out the cell phone, flicking it open in one motion. Looking intently at the screen, he saw he had two bars, pressing 911; he held his breath hoping that he has some kind of reception and would get through.

The phone clicked, “911 Emergency Operator, what is your emergency”.

Dean let out a heavy breath, “Yes, we ran off the road in the snowstorm”.

“Sir, what is your location”.

“I don’t …somewhere on Hwy 29 just south of Devils Lake… visibility was a bitch, I couldn’t see, we ran off the road”, he said in one breath.

“Sir, just calm down”

“I can’t calm down, my brothers hurt, and we need help…now”.

Okay, sir can you give me your exact location.

“Not sure”, Dean said as he leaned over to check Sam’s face.

“Sir, if you can’t give me your exact location, then we will have to track your cell phone, leave it own…”

“I only have 2 bars….what if….”

“We are on our way, just hang in there”.

Sam’s head lolled to the right and Dean dropped the phone as he grabbed Sam with both hands.

“Sam, you with me here? Sam, answer me”. Dean held Sam’s head with his right hand and rubbed his left hand across Sam cheek and up through his brown hair. Sam’s eyes came open and his lips made a small smile. He remembered this; it was from his childhood, someone taking care of him. Dean reached down and grabbed a small flick of glass that was sitting on Sam’s eyelashes and brushed his hand through his hair again.

“H...ey…hey De…” Sam shaky voice whispered.

“Hey kiddo”, Dean looked down into Sam’s hazy eyes, “how you doing”.

“Fi...Fi...fine”, Sam said slowly.

“Hey, keep talking to me, you have to stay awake, you have a concussion”.

“Kay…De…” Sam reached his right hand to brush against Dean’s hand, a comforting gesture he did not realize he did. Dean’s hand slid over Sam’s, his fingers curling around his brother’s wrist.

“So…what about that night in Homerville?” Dean was desperate to start a conversation, to keep Sam awake and coherent.

“Yea…yea, what about that...”Sam said as he blinked his eyes and glanced over at Dean.

“I think you did some mind controlly thing…didn’t you?”

“I think…so”, Sam’s teeth chattered as Dean pulled him closer into his hold. Where were those emergency people, crap, this was taking way to long.

“How’d you do that?” Dean eyes shinning brightly as he looked into Sam’s face.

“Not…not sure…just heard you sc...scream…my name. Ha…had to do something, it, it just came out of me”.

“You think you can do it again”.

“I think soooo”. Sam sighed loudly. “My head hurts De…”.

“I know, kiddo”. Dean glared out the window in the snow, seeing red lights blaring down the road toward them. At last, he thought.

“So, how did you know the demon boy was gone…? I mean you sounded pretty confident, and, well, I checked on the internet, and there have been no more deaths or sightings since we left there”. Dean pulled the towel up around Sam’s shoulders and curled him in closer to him.

“I just felt it, it’s just weird….I do…don’t understa….” Sam’s eyes started to close.

“Sam”, Dean shook Sam in his arms, “Don’t go to sleep”.

“So tired”, Sam slumped limply in Deans arms.

The police car and fire engine came to a halt on the road next to the Impala, the snow coming down in large flakes causing the lights to look like a blur. Dean glared up into the high beam as the light shined down into the car.

The smell of antiseptic woke Sam; he opened sleep filled eyes to see his brother sitting beside him in a white plastic chair. He looks uncomfortable as hell, Sam thought.

“Dean”, he said as loud as his voice would go, which to his surprise, was not very load, but Dean heard him.

“Sammy”, Dean threw the magazine he was numbly looking at to the floor and scooted the chair closer to Sam.

“What happened”, Sam’s voice sounded far away to him, like he was in a hole somewhere.

“We wreaked the car in the snow, remember, you are in the hospital in Fargo”.

“Are you okay”, Sam pointed to the bandage just above Dean’s right eye. Dean rubbed his hand across it and smiled.

“Yea…kiddo, I’m fine. You were the one with the big concussion, you been out of it for about five hours, since we got here. How you feeling?”

“I’m Okay”, Sam’s lips quirked up in a small smile.

“Sam, do you remember the conversation we had in the car, after the wreck?” Dean leaned in and placed his hands on the rail on the bed by Sam’s head, inquisitive eyes staring intently at Sam.

“Yes Dean, I remember”. Sam shifted on the pillow, closing his eyes.

“Well, if what you said is true, if you can control people, well maybe you can control demons too, like Ava”. Dean looked questioningly at Sam who opened his eyes and a small grin spread across his lips.

“Yep….that is the plan”, Sam closed his eyes again drifting off into the vast white nothingness of sleep. He had a warm, comforting feeling overtaking him; he might just save his brother after all.

The Winchester brothers sat at a small greasy table, another dingy diner, somewhere in the middle of Arkansas. Their day starting out calmly, no rush, no hurry, lazily getting out of bed, taking long showers, and then wondering slowly down to the local hang out to eat breakfast The car had taken about a week to get fixed in Fargo, Sam had recovered from his concussion. The hunt for evil in North Dakota had been a total bust, just some serial killer; the cops had located the crazy man before Sam had even gotten out of the hospital. That had been so fine with Dean; he hated the cold, the snow, and just wanted the hell out of that town. Going south, to nowhere was better than the freaking freezer in Fargo. Thank God Arkansas was warmer.

“Now this is what I’m talking about, when I say downtime”, Sam grinned across the red laminated table to Dean, “No getting up early, no hours of car driving, both of us healthy, no injuries to take care of, no researching for hours and hours, yes, this is good”. Sam took a long gulf of his coffee and smiled a happy smile at his brother.

Dean nodded, “Yea…this is nice”. He did not think he sounded very confident, where was his mask of denial, his pretend face. Suck it up Winchester.

Although Dean agreed with Sam, he also was dealing with his own impending death and it was growing closer with every day. He had ninety six days left, he knew, because he marked off every day of the last nine months in his head. He never said it out loud, because it caused Sammy to dwell, to anguish, and to get upset. So his raw feelings, opinions, thoughts, sat heavily in his own mind, never spoken.

“I think we’re heading down to New Orleans”, Dean said out of nowhere sitting his cup down on the table so hard the coffee sloshed out and down the side of the cup.

“Whoa… that was random”, Sam leaned in and took a hard look at his brother, “What’s up, Dean, you seem kind of pissed”.

“Well, I don’t know, could be I’m gonna die in a little over 12 weeks”, the anger in Deans voice rolled across the table to smack Sam right between the eyes. Dam it, Winchester, what happened to keeping your opinions and thoughts to yourself, Dean sighed; he could not look at his brother; he turned his head and glared out the window.

“I got you covered, Dean”, Sam said confidently.

“Sam, we can’t count on your so called “I can make you do what I want” ability, hell are we even sure that is what it is? How do we know you just didn’t get a big adrenaline rush, open the door, and then just scare the shit out of the demon ghost boy?” Dean could not help but chuckle at this remark. “You are pretty damn scary dude”.

“Bitch” Sam sat down his coffee and smirked.

“Jerk” Dean pushed back his plate still full of food; he had suddenly lost his appetite. He grabbed the ticket off the table.

“Dean….I know it… I know I…” Sam voice trailed off, Dean wasn’t listening, easing out of the table, shaking his head.

“Let’s go”, Dean reached for his wallet, paid, and then pushed the diner door open without looking at Sam.

The ride in the Impala was quiet, too quiet for Sam’s liking. What was going on with is brother? Didn’t Dean realize that he had a plan, he thought he had explained it to him, hadn’t they already talked about this at the hospital in Fargo? It made Sam ache to think his brother did not trust in his words, his abilities. Hell, he had been practicing for the last five months, and now it was working, he was controlling his abilities, he had in Fargo, and he could again, he knew he could. He just knew it, he would just have to show his brother, that’s all, and then he would feel better and know that Sam was going to save him.

Glaring ahead into the distance, Dean’s world was tinted a golden glow from the sun that bounced off the top of the Implala. It was warm; he had rolled down his window, and let the breeze roll across his face. He was lost in his thoughts, his fears, and his reality. He was going to die. Sam was trying, and Dean knew he was, but he just did not think he could count on a ‘maybe’ power to save him. While he trusted Sam, he just was a little bit skeptical of this new ability. He shivered in the breeze for a minute, was it the breeze cooling him, or his fear overcoming him. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and continued to glare out the window, destination, New Orleans.

Dean had not told Sam, he would just tell Dean that he had it covered, for Dean to stop worrying. Dean knew that Sam was in denial, that’s what it was, denial that Dean was leaving him, the Demon taking him away. Dean knew he had to attempt to save himself, for Sammy. He had gotten a tip from Bobby Singer; that’s why they were headed to New Orleans. A voodoo priest there was said to have a way to get Dean out of the deal. At least, Dean thought, this was something he could do, a real lead, so he was going, with or without Sam’s approval.

“So who are we going to see in New Orleans”, Sam shifted in the passenger seat, cracking his knuckles, glancing over at Dean.

“A voodoo priest just outside of the French Quarter, Bobby put me on to her; she is supposed to be a direct descendant of Marie Laveau, the mother of all voo doo queens”. Dean’s free hand moved through his hair as he let out a sigh and stared intently at the road ahead.

“Dean, we don’t have to do this, I told you, I have this covered”. Sam face turned in a small frown.

“I know Sammy, I trust you, I do, but I just ….I just got to do something, I can’t just set around and wait and see. If this can work, if I can do something now, get out of the deal, I want to. You have to understand that.”

“I guess, if it is what you feel like you have to do, then I will back you up”. Sam looked over at Dean, who nodded his head and slowly smiled back at his little brother.

The black Impala pulled slowly into what could possibly be the cheapest looking motel Sam had ever seen, and he had seen a lot of them in his 23 years. He grimaced, as the car came to a halt in front of the pink blinking vacancy sign. The motel looked old and raggedy. A larger sign just above the Managers door announced ‘The New Orleans Palace’. Some palace Sam snickered.

Dean drank the last of his cup of black coffee, the 4th one in the last 3 hours and leered over at Sam.

“I’ll get the room”.

“Yea, you do that, cause I’m scared to get out of the car”, Sam grinned and then looked back around the motel. This place was just a little more than Sam thought his stomach was going to be able to handle”.

Several minute later, Dean opened the driver’s door, sliding in and tossing the key to Sam.

“Room 7, down to the right”. Dean pulled the car out and drove to the right as he found the parking spot right in front of the room. Both exited the car, Sam went to open the door of the room, while Dean grabbed the duffels and weapons bag from the trunk.

Sam turned on the light switch, one light, sitting in the corner, on the floor, flickered and then came on, giving a low glow to the room. Sam knew he saw several bugs scattering across the floor, which made his skin crawl and his stomach churn.

“Well, I won’t be getting under the covers tonight”, he said loudly as Dean walked toward the entry of the door where Sam stood.

“Dean, this is a little below our standards, and our standards are pretty low”, he said as he stepped into the room grabbing his duffle bag from Dean and throwing it to the dirty carpet on the floor. He turned to look in the bathroom and gawked at the hideous stains that were on the floor and the wall. Black gunk was sitting in the sink and the toilet was leaking a steady stream on the floor. He turned back and could see a discarded condom rapper, remnants of somebody’s good time, just under the bed.

“Dean, do we have to stay here”, he whined.

“Sam, can it, I’m tired, and there were no other vacancies…..just go to bed”.

“This is just gross”, Sam flung himself on the bed, coat and shoes still on, the mattress squeaking and moaning with his weight. He sighed loudly, if Dean heard, he didn’t notice as he was already fast asleep laying crisscross his bed.

The car drove down Claiborne Avenue heading toward Tupelo Street and the meeting with Krishna Lavabo the current, on call voodoo priestess. As the car pulled into the short driveway the boys both looked up at the old clapboard house that was not much larger than the room they stayed in at the ‘palace’ the night before. The doors squeaked open on the Impala and they both shivered in the breeze that blew threw the air, the sun was out, but it suddenly seemed very cold.

Dean stepped on the creaky steps first heading up to the old screen door that was barely hanging on its hinges. Sam stepped up the old steps and stood next to Dean on the porch.

“You okay, sure you want to do this?” Sam bumped his shoulder into his brothers arm and looked over to his face.

“Yea, yea, I’m good, let’s just do it, see what she has to say”. Dean brought his left hand up and knocked on the door, right hand pushing Sam slowly behind him.

Several minutes went by and then a black woman, turban on her head, necklaces dangling down her chest peered through the screen door eyes glancing up and down Dean.

“I was expecting you”, she said as she pushed the screen door open. Dean crinkled up his eyebrows and leered back at her. “Krishna Lavabo?” he asked as he stepped hesitantly across the threshold of her doorway. Sam shuffled his feet quietly behind him, glancing around the dimly lit room.

“Have a seat”, she said a smile grin coming across her face. “So, you are the one, I have heard about you; the one that made a deal with the demon”.

Sam quickly took a seat and grabbed Dean’s arm at the elbow leading him on the coach next to him.

“Ye…Yes”, Dean said shakily.

At that moment Sam felt the fear radiating off his brother. Why had he not seen it before how scared Dean was, and why shouldn’t he be scared? He had made a deal with the crossroad demon to save Sam. What is wrong with this picture, Sam thought.

Sam shifted uncomfortably on the couch, staring wide eyed at the voodoo priestess. She turned her head and looked quizzically at Sam.

“You are special”, she said as she raised her hand and laid it on Sam’s arm. He jerked away from her and took in a quick breath; Dean leaned over in front of him.

“Don’t touch my brother”, Dean positioned his face between the voodoo priestess and Sam. Dean felt Sam shaking ever so slightly next to him and he pressed his hand over against Sam’s knee, he seemed to calm momentarily, his breath leveling out as he did so.

“Okay”, Dean hissed out, “so how do I get out of this deal with this crossroad bitch”, his eyes piercing the dim light and glaring at the priestess.

“Not sure you can”, grin coming slowly across her face. Krishna grabbed a necklace around her neck and gently stroked the emblem with her thumb.

“What…what, I thought Bobby said you could get him out of the deal”, Sam said his voice quivering, growing louder with every word.

“Sam…calm down”, Dean patted him on his knee, “Let her talk”.

“There tis a way”, Krishna said very above a whisper, “It tis zobop voodoo, very old, only used against very negative forces. If you have all the right ‘gredients, at da right time, you can stop the demon from taking ya”.

“What do you mean, at the right time?” Dean shifted his elbows to his knees and clasped his hands together. He wanted to wring this old hag’s neck, but for now he would just try and maintain his control, for Sam’s sake.

“If all ingredients are not perfected, the time exactly 12:01 p.m., on the 13th day prior to your last day of life, then the incantation twon’t work, da demon will win, and you will go thirteen days sooner dan ya planned”.

“What about my brother, will this affect him, I don’t want him hurt, or dying again. I did this to save him, I would do it again”.

“Oh, it could be bad, ya know they want him, he got the blood, he tis special, could be dat you don’t get it to work, and then da deal would be revoked, and the bitch would take ya both. He got the blood, day goin to want him anyway, with or without you”, she leaned into Dean and whispered the words...

“Well, screw that”, Dean wheezed in a ragged breath. That was the end of that, he thought, there was no way he would be putting his brother at risk. God, was his brother at risk anyway? God, what was Dean going to do, he knew he had to get out of this deal; he could not leave Sam, under any circumstances.

Dean stood to leave but noticed Sam was not standing. He leaned down to look Sam in the face. He was starring intently at the voodoo priestess, his face all scrunched up, his hand to his temple.

“I know dhat you hav da power…be careful, the demon blood, da will come afta ya”, she starred at Sam; her voice haunting, words sending shivers down Dean spine.

“Leave him alone”, he said as he grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him toward the door. Sam swayed on unsteady legs, leaning heavily on Dean.

“He can help ya, he has da power”, she said as she stuffed a piece of paper into Dean’s hand and pushed him toward the front door”. “Here are da ingredients, and da incantation for eliminating da demon, but ya take a chance, be careful. Watch da boy, he has da power”, she whispered again as the screen door slammed shut behind Sam and Dean.

“Thanks”, Dean whispered as he lead Sam down the rickety steps and back to the Impala.

Sam’s head was pounding, the humming was loud and it made him dizzy. He could hear Dean and the voodoo priestess talking, but they seemed very far away. Did she just say the demons would be coming after him anyway, with or without Dean? Did she just say that they would want him because of the demon blood, how did she know about that? The weight was pressing down on his chest, he couldn’t breath, the room was spinning, his head was pounding, help me, Dean, he thought as he leaned his head down and pressed his hand up to his temple.

The next thing Sam knew, they were in the Impala heading down the road, Dean mumbling softly, “It’s going to be okay Sammy”. He heard the words, he acknowledged them with a nod of his head and then closed his eyes, drifting off to the pounding that was in his head, someone let the little man out of is brain and make it stop.

Dean touched his coat pocket, just to make sure he had gotten out of the voodoo princess’s house with the ‘kick the demon’s ass and send it back to hell’ spell intact. He wasn’t sure if he would use it, hell, he wanted to, wanted to be done with the deal, done with worrying about 94 days and looking forward to the rest of his life.

From his chair, in the corner of the new and improved motel room, he glanced over to Sam, lying on his bed, face ashen, cheeks flushed. This headache had came on quickly, while at the meeting with the ‘princess’, yeah, he thought, that’s a joke, ‘princess my ass’. He had given Sam two pain pills and tucked him into bed two hours ago. Sam had been out of it upon leaving voodoo headquarters. Dean had to watch as his stress level increased ten fold, and he curled into himself, headache overtaking him in mere moments.

Right now, Dean didn’t know weather to be happy that he had a possible ‘out’ from the death sentence, or he should go back and kick the princess’s ass for what she had said to Sam. He had to admit she was good, she did know about Sam and the demons blood, but telling Sam he was always going to be chased by the evil forever was not what he had needed to hear.

Sam shuttered in his sleep, Dean looked intently at him trying to decide if he was okay or not. When Sam settled back down into the pillow, Dean let out a sigh of relief. He stood up, glanced at the clock, 8:45 p.m., and decided to go to be early, this day had been long. He slipped off his shoes, reached down and pulled the blanket up around Sam, tucking it under his chin and ran his hands through his brother’s long locks. “It will be okay Sammy”, he whispered. He stumbled over to his own bed and slumped down onto the mattress, clothes still on, thoughts still racing. ‘What to do, what to do’, his brain not wanting to shutdown. Eventually, sleep overtook him.

Sam didn’t know what was causing his head to feel like it was about to burst, spilling out his brains on the ‘princess’s’ couch. He was there to support Dean, to help him because he needed it, but when had the conversation started being about him, demons blood, and powers. It was all too much, his head rocketed to new levels of pain, eyes blurring up, and hands shaking. He vaguely heard his brother speaking about the spell to break the deal, distinctly heard the princess say ‘might not work’, ‘special’ and ‘still be after him’ before the room began to spin, his hands shaking, his body tilting, leaning heavily into Dean.

It was after midnight when Dean heard the first whimpers from his brother. He turned his head and peered over at the form on the other bed, Sam was thrashing under the covers, his head lolling back and forth on the pillow. Dean flung himself quickly over the edge of the mattress, feet hitting the floor with a thud, arms reaching out for Sam.

“Sam, Sammy…..wake up”, he grabbed his shoulders and gave him a slight shake.

“No, no, you can’t…you can’t have my brother”, Sam mumbled.

The crossroad demon stood in front of Sam, yellow eyes glaring into his, evil smile leering across her lips.

“Your mine, and thirteen days early, what an idiot”, she said her head nodding; her hands reaching out to grab at Dean.

Sam pushed Dean behind him, eyes looking intently at the demon. He knew this was bad, calling the crossroad demon early, attempting to change Dean’s fate.

“Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean…did you think some voodoo princess could get you out of this deal. I am so taking your soul”. The demon looked at Sam as her hands grabbed again at Dean.

Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes. Dean swayed into Sam, his breath becoming shallow, the room spinning.

“No, no, you can’t have him”, Sam yanked Dean back away from the demon.

“Poor little Sammy, all alone now. I tell you what, I can…unless, unless…well I could make you a good deal. You could have y our brother, I would let him out of the deal, and you can become one of us, a leader for our side”. The demon smiled wickedly, hoping Sam would take her up on her offer.

“No, no, you bitch, there won’t be another deal, NO Sam, NO.”, Dean swayed and begin falling to the ground, knees buckling as he felt the life slowly draining from his body.

Sam watched as the breath began to leave his brother, Dean’s eyes rolling back in his lids. The demon made a low gurgling noise, pleased, she pushed past Sam to grab a hold of his brother.

Sam continues to thrash around in the bed, breath coming in heavy gasps, suddenly his eyes popped open, in the dim light coming through the window, Dean saw no recognition in his face.

“Shit, is it a vision?”, Dean whispered as he continued to hold fast to Sam’s shoulders, willing him to wake up, rocking him back in forth in a steady movement.

“Sammy, I gotcha…I gotcha”, Soft, comforting words he couldn’t comprehend. Sam eyes suddenly seemed to come into focus and he glanced wildly at Dean.

“Dean?”, he gasped, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“I gotcha Sammy…Easy, easy”.

Sam felt hands pulling him up, a warm presence leaning into him, arms wrapping around him holding him steady. Sam twisting and fighting as his vivid memories of the vision began to fade.

“I...I saw…the cross...ss road demon…we, we did, the spell…it didn’t...didn’t work…” Sam spoke in a whisper, his voice shaky.

“Shhhh…shhh, just breath, Sammy”. Dean ran his fingers through Sam’s hair as he continued to rock him back and forth on the bed, Sam’s tears coming down in streams, breath heaving, his heart hammering hard against Dean’s chest.

Dean leaned back on the headboard of the bed, dragging Sammy with him, still locked tightly in his embrace. The moon was casting a white light in the window and across the Sam’s face. Sam’s tears had stopped, his breathing leveled off, he was slowly gaining control of his senses.

Sam dug his head into the Dean’s shoulder, eyes shining, brow scrunched up, and voice whining. “We can’t do the spell the voodoo princess gave us…. I saw it, I saw it all happen, it did not end well, please Dean, tell me we won’t try it, please…please”.

“What did you see?” Dean felt a shudder come off his brother at the words he had just asked.

Sam closed his eyes as Dean pulled him closer, taking his chin in his hands, he spoke in a low, caring tone. “Sam, Sammy…look at me, what did you see in your dream?” Sam opened his bloodshot eyes to look at Dean.

“The crossroad demon, she…she came, the spell wasn’t working, and I couldn’t stop her … she took you…..”. His voice dazed and hitching as tears again reached his red rimmed eyelids. “You died”.

Dean closed his eyes, sighing. “Hush, Sammy, it didn’t happen, it was just a dream”.

“No, no Dean, it was not a dream, it was a vision, a vision….I saw you die. I can’t do what you want, we can’t take a chance that the spell won’t work. She wanted a new….a new deal, she wanted...”. Sam’s eyes blinked slowly up at Dean, large, round, and innocent. He curled into Dean like he was a small child again, hands weakly clutching and unclenching at Dean’s shirt.

‘Well, there it is’, Dean thought, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. ‘Guess that plan is done for’. Dean reached up and settled his right hand on the back of Sam’s neck, running his callous fingers through his brother’s long locks.

“It’s okay, Sammy”, he mumbled as he drew his head down to rest on the top of Sammy’s, still rocking him, holding him, needing to be there for him.

“Dean?” panic was rising up in Sam’s voice, his breath coming in little gasps.

“Whoa, calm down little bro, breath with me”. Dean made the effort to make his breaths louder, in and out, in and out.

“I can’t loose you, I can’t do this…I thought I could, you now, save you…I need you, I can’t”. Sam whispered out between short heaves of breath.

“I’m here”, Dean answered, squeezing the back of Sam’s neck again. “I don’t plan on going anywhere Sammy, I believe in you”. Dean felt confident in those words, so he said it one more time just to make sure Sam heard him. “I believe in you”.

Dean raised his head and stared at his watch, it was 5:30 a.m., what the shit was he even going to bed for, he never slept anymore anyway. Glancing around the motel room with his weary eyes, he saw his brother sleeping on the bed next to him, covers pulled up over his chin, long arms lounging over his head. Sam looked exhausted, dark circles lining his eyes. Dean knew that he never slept either, always tossing and turning, thinking and dwelling, laying on the bed till all hours.

Dean shifted on the bed, turning on his side; he watched his brother borrowing deeper down in the bed, his head snuggling into the pillow. He thought about the deal, he was always thinking about the deal; fifty six days and counting. He thought about Sam, about leaving, just going. He knew if he was a good brother, he would just do it, leave, save Sam from the suffering, the turmoil. Sam would be better off without him around, without watching him die. But Dean couldn’t imagine leaving Sam alone. Sam had always been his life, his reason for being. Now, with death looming out in front of him, his feelings were intensified, his worry excessive, his fear for his brother engulfing him. What would happen to Sam after, after the crossroad demon came, after the deal? Deans own need to protect and take care of Sam’s overshadowed whatever he thought would be best for his brother, it was selfish, and he knew it.

“I am such a selfish jerk”, he said to himself as he scrubbed one head across his face and pulled himself up and off the bed, grabbing some clothes from his duffle, he headed for the shower.

Sam awoke to the sound of water running, he looked over at the other bed, not seeing Dean, he heard the shower going full force. He rolled over and stretched his long body, feeling muscles and bones popping, waking up.

The shower turned off and Sam lay on the bed watching for the door to open. He could not imagine his life without his brother around. He vaguely remembered the 2 years at Stanford now, as if it was just a dream. He had wanted so badly then to be on his own, to go to school, away from his father, his brother, their life. But now, now it was all he wanted, the life he had with his brother, the life their father gave them. Dean was all he had left, if the demon took him, he would be all alone. He did not think he could do all alone. Stopping the crossroad demon and the deal played over and over in his mind, all day, everyday. It was all he could think about.

Dean opened the bathroom door, billowy clouds of steam echoing in his wake. He heard his phone ringing and grabbed it as he dumped his dirty clothes in his duffle on the floor.

“Winchester”, he said cockily as he glanced over at Sam, who was still lounging on the bed.

“Dean, hey it’s Bobby. How you guys doin’?”

“Hey Bobby”, Deans eyes darted back across the room to Sam, who was looking at him questioningly.

“Well, what happened with the voodoo priestess, any luck?” Bobby voice was anxious and concerned.

“Nope, total waste of time”. Dean sat down on the edge of his bed, putting on his socks and shoes, “Com’on Sammy, get your ass moving, I’m hungry.” he whispered with his hand held over the cell phone.

“What….Dean, listen, I got a hunt for ya, if you’re game”, Bobby touted.

“Yea, yea, we’re interested, need to do something to kill some time…I mean, shit, whatever dude”. Dean watched as Sam let out a little gasp of air at his choice of words and then pushed himself off his bed and headed toward the bathroom.

“Something is attacking rock climbers up in Echo Lake, Colorado. I think it’s a Sisyphus, definitely one of the demons that escaped from hells gate. What I hear, this thing has been seen three times, up on Mount Evans, just before each climber fell to their death. Seems like this bastard doesn’t show up till someone is climbing the trails and then appears, summoning a rockslide in its wake. All the deaths were in the same three mile area on the east cliffs. It’s never the same exact location, killed six climbers so far. Definitely violating the laws of hospitality here and killing innocents. Tell ya Dean, dam things not typical, that’s for sure”. Bobby snickered as he waited for Dean to speak.

“Sure, we’ll go, give me the details”. Dean grabbed a piece of paper for directions and information on the hunt.

The black Impala hummed along Highway 103 toward Echo Lake, Colorado, heading up the scenic bypass, climbing up the hill at a 90 degree angle. The engine sputtered and spat as it struggled to make the angry slop of the road. Sam had rolled down is window and was breathing in the clear, crisp mountain air. The wind was blowing lightly through the wildflowers, the tall grass, and Sam’s long bangs, causing them to blow wildly across his face.

“Look…look, Dean, it’s a mountain goat”, Sam pointed excitedly toward the side of the hill, “Look…”

“Yea, yea, I see it, I see it, calm down; it’s just a dam goat”. Dean snickered as he glanced at his brother, Sam’s eyes wide, lips quirked up in a grin.

The sun was high in the sky as they pulled into the ‘Bighorn Lodge’. Dean pulled the car into the almost empty parking lot.

“Look’s like business is slow, eh, Sammy”. Dean opened the driver’s door and stepped out of the car pulling and stretching his angry muscles.

“Get us a room, Sam, I’m beat”. Sam stood stiffly, leaning on the passenger door of the car. He glanced at Dean, shrugged, and headed up the steps to the front door. Dean kept vigil outside, leaning against the Impala, taking in the view, the valley, and the winding road they had just ascended.

Sam exited the small lobby, the room key dangling from his hand. He wondered how this place got its name. This was no where near a lodge, he thought, just a bunch of small cabins on the side of a mountain; obviously, someone didn’t know what a lodge was when they named this place. He sighed; he couldn’t help the slight tugging in his chest as he saw Dean relaxing against the car.

His brother looked worn out, beaten down, and haggard. Sam was glad they had come on this hunt; he hoped it would help Dean to stop thinking about the crossroad demon. Although, he knew Dean would never tell him, he was counting the days till the demon made her appearance, and Sam knew it. He just hoped everything went as he planned. He had kept practicing, moving objects, making waitress’s repeat what he said when he ordered, trying to make things happen. It was funny, Dean never even noticed, Sam guessed he was all caught up in his own thoughts, paying little attention to Sam’s ever vigilant effort. Sam had a plan; no crossroad bitch was taking his brother away from him, not now, not ever.

After getting settled in their room, the boys decided to grab some quick dinner and make an early night of it. Though neither would admit it, they were beat, brains tired of thinking, dealing with their own analysis of the crossroad demons deal. So, they both pretended to sleep, lying heavily on the beds, finally, sheer exhaustion overtook them.

The impala pulled onto the gravel dirt beside the sign that said ‘East Cliffs – 2 Miles’.

“Does that mean we gotta walk two miles to get there?” Dean rolled his eyes and glared at Sam.

“I think so bro”. Sam reached and opened the passenger door, pulling himself to his feet, wicked grin flaring across his face.

“Crap, I was hoping we could drive right up there.” Dean slammed the driver’s door causing a large bang to radiate down through the valley, echoing off the trees.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and headed to get their gear out of the trunk.

“Com’on Dean, you gotta take more than M & M’s”, Sam tossed a backpack at his brother. “I took the liberty of putting some hiking stuff together in the backpacks, you know, ropes, gloves, water, granola bars, necessities like that”. Sam turned away from the car and began walking toward the trail.

“Necessities, my ass, I say M & M’s are all I need”. Dean heaved the backpack over his shoulder and followed his brother up the path.

The two mile trek toward the cliffs was uneventful. Sam’s long legs were taking the gradual slop in stride, little effort in his movements. Dean was huffing and puffing behind him, mumbling something about crap and stupid people liking to hike. Sam snickered to himself; boy his brother sure hated anything involving exercise.

As the brothers approached the top of the path, Sam heard something; he stopped in his tracks and tilted his head.

“Dean, shhh, did you hear that?” Dean continued walking, abruptly bumping straight into Sam.

“Sam, what the ….what, what?” Dean wheezed out between breaths. He put his hand on the tree next to Sam’s head, and leaned into it intently.

“Help me”. Dean cocked his chin, eyes squinting, looking at Sam.

“Hello”, Sam yelled.

“Help me….down here”. A voice yelled weakly in the wind.

Sam’s feet stepped quickly to the edge of the cliff, looking intently over the edge. Dean hurriedly stepped up, looking around.

“Where are you?” Dean yelled down over the edge into the vast nothingness.

“Here, down here”, the low voice said again.

Just then, Sam saw an arm wave just to the left of them about six feet down.

“There, Dean”, Sam pointed his finger to the ledge below them, “I see you”, he yelled, “Are you okay?”

Dean unzipped his pack, put on his gloves, and began unrolling the rope that Sam had stuffed into it.

“How’d you get down there”, Sam yelled.

“I was climbing with my friend….he….he…fell”. The voice was shaky and almost too low to hear.

“Okay, its okay”, Dean yelled, “I’m coming down to get you”.

Dean quickly tied the rope around the closest tree to the ledge and then the other end around himself. Sam reached into his backpack and put on his own gloves, then grabbed the rope to steady it. Dean nodded at Sam and then placed both feet at the top of the ledge; he began to gradually jump down the cliff. Sam held the rope and let the slack out as Dean scaled down the rocks.

“Hey, can you hear me”, Sam glanced back down where he had seen the arm before, the person hidden from view by the rocks above them.

“Yea, I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, the voice came back to Sam, a slit cockiness in the tone.

“Okay, my brother is just above you, Dean….Dean, you okay? He is right below you, see that ledge, he’s under there”. Sam motioned to the rock just below Dean.

Dean’s left foot slipped on the dirt and rock as he made his way over to lean down, hands still holding onto the rope. He glanced over to his right and around the large rock jutting out of the cliff, there was a young boy, not sixteen or seventeen lying on the ledge. His hands gripping tightly to a rock, feet firmly propped up against another.

“Hey, my names Dean. What’s your name? Dean face quirked up in a small smile.

“Dean, can you get over there”. Sam asked inquisitively as he leered down at Dean, still holding the rope, sweat drops forming on his brow.

“Joe…my names Joe, my friend’s at the bottom…down there”. Joe glanced down the step cliffs to the bushes and trees below, tears welling up in his eyes.

“Sam, I’m okay, you're gonna have to tie off the other rope and drop it down to me. It’s too close down here, there’s no where for me to undo myself and tie the rope around Joe”. Dean peered back up to the top of the ledge and Sam.

“Okay, Dean, hang on a minute”. Dean felt the slack on the rope give way as Sam relinquished his hold, Dean slid about half a foot further down, so now he could see Joe slightly above him to the right, his face pale white, a cut on his temple, clothes dirty and rumpled up.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Dean braced himself hands gripping the rope tightly, feet angled at just the right angle to hold him steady.

“I…I thin…think so. We…we were climbing down…we saw, we saw something, above us, next thing I knew rocks were reigning down on us, the rope came loose. We were both falling, but I landed here…here on this ledge. Tim fell. Oh God…” Joe breathed in shakily, his body shuddering as he did so.

A rope swung over the ledge and hit Dean in the head.

“Gees Sam, tell a guy when you’re gonna do that”. Dean reached around and grabbed he rope, throwing it toward Joe.

“Grab the rope”. Joe reached out his shaky hand and grabbed a hold of the rope as it swung over toward him.

“Sam, you got it up there?” Dean shifted his weight grimacing as he was growing tired of holding onto the rope, arms pulling, legs quivering.

“I got it, is he tied off?” Sam yelled down to Dean.

Dean looked over at Joe, who had managed to wrap the rope around his waist and tie it off.

“Okay, he’s ready. Sam, pull him up”.

Sam pulled the rope up with all his strength, the weight of Joe heavy on the other end.

“Slow Sam, wait, let him get his footing”. Dean yelled back up at Sam.

Sam stopped tugging on the rope, waiting on Dean’s instructions.

“He’s ready Sam, pull. I’m climbing back up underneath him”. Dean’s voice echoed back up the rocky ledge to Sam.

Joe made his gradual ascent up the rocky grade, Sam pulling him. Dean began slowly putting one hand over the other, moving his feet, scaling up the rocks toward the top.

Joe was within Sam’s reach, then he thought he heard a noise behind him; hissing, howling, laughing. Sam continued pulling the rope, his neck craning around to see what was making the noise. He reached down blindly to grab at Joes arms as he saw the Sisyphus coming up behind him.