Disclaimer: Don't own the boys or their story, but I can play can't I? =)

Very special thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter and stuck with me through all the confusion! =)

Okay, everyone. This is the last chapter and I hope it meets everyones wants and needs! =) Enjoy!

Chapter Ten

Don't Trust Her, Trust Me

"Dean, no!" Immediately John grabbed Dean's wrist and pulled it away from his little boys back.

"No, Dad!" Dean argued and pulled back. "Trust me please!" Dean begged, his eyes beginning to fill with tears.

John was momentarily stunned. The look on Dean's face made John's insides fear him. Dean was determined and set forward to save Sam. "How can you be sure? How can you trust her?"

"Because I believe her. She was human once too Dad," Dean explained, still trying to pull his wrist from his father's grasp.

"When'd you get so sentimental, kid?" Bobby questioned from the background.

Sam moaned once again as his back arched and his body began to form in a ball.

"Please," Dean pleaded with his father. John was torn….Sam was in pain and dying…but he couldn't really trust a ghost, could he?

"Dean, I can't trust her," John sighed.

Dean's bottom lip started to quiver and tears fell down his flushed cheeks. "Then don't. Just trust me."

"Ahh!" Sam screamed in pain and his fists clenched against the pillows, clearly in unimaginable pain.

Dean's eyes pleaded with John once again. Dean was sure about this and John still wasn't.

"John," John felt Bobby's hand on his shoulder and his saddening words. Sam was dying, right here before their eyes and he may be holding back the only thing that could save him. Well he wasn't going to be the one to stop his only chance.

"Ok Dean. Just be careful," John said and released his boy's hand. He saw Dean smile quickly with relief as he turned back to his brother.

"Dad, help me hold him down! Bobby, get the ferrous oxide open and ready." Dean instructed as he fought his little brother to keep him still.

John ran to the other side of the bed and attempted to keep Sam still. Sam jerked and bucked against the pain and John's firm hands. "Shh, Sammy, Just hold on, it will be ok," John whispered as he used most of his strength to hold his boys limbs down.

Once Sam was still…well still enough… Dean went to cut into Sam's back again. "Sorry about this Sam," Dean whispered as he began to cut down the skin, only centimeters away from the spine. Blood spilled out of the cut instantly making Dean's hands red and slippery with the small handed scalpel.

Sam cried out in agony and John was forced to use more strength to keep him from falling off the bed.

John watched as Dean slowly ran the scalpel down Sam's back. Only about three inches down he stopped and backed away. "It's not deep enough," Dean concluded, worried and under pressure.

"Dean, hurry!" John demanded. Then he felt Sam go limp under his grip. "Sam!" He yelled and lifted his son's unconscious head. He quickly felt for a pulse and was overcome with short relief when he felt a faint one. "What ever you're going to do, do it fast son!"

"Okay!" Dean too was panicking. He readjusted the scalpel on the already cut skin and began cutting through again, making sure to go deep enough. He didn't have time to waste.

"Uh, John," Bobby pointed towards the corner of the room, shock and fear racing through his feature.

Both John and Dean turned to see Jackson hovering in the corner, like an animal lurking its prey.

"You can't have him!" John bellowed, rising to his feet, grabbing the shot gun and shooting at the creepy soul.

Jackson yelped and disappeared, his presence only to be replaced by a hollow growl. Soon the whole hospital seemed like it was being blown up… it rumbled and shook. The windows shattered and high winds raced in causing ever paper and medical supply to fly around the room.

John jumped over his younger to block him from the flying pieces of glass and winced as he felt some jab into his shoulder. The wind howled with anger and the noise was horrendously loud and completely inconvenient.

"Dean, hurry!" John yelled though his voice was barely audible over the wind.

Dean nodded quickly, fighting against the wind to stay in place over his brother. He gently pulled at the cut, revealing blood. How was he supposed to tell if it's deep enough!? Dean gulped as he wiped away the blood. But it was useless and it continued to flow. If Dean kept digging, he was either going to hit his brothers spine or he'll die of blood loss.

"Bobby! Give me the bottle!" Dean yelled and held out his hand. The opened bottle was urgently placed in his hand. Dean placed it over the cut. Nothing came out. Damn it! He should have checked if there was anything in it! How stupid could he be…? Dean cursed himself.

Bobby placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Shake it! It's a powder!" He yelled.

A powder? Dean looked at Bobby oddly, but then gently shook the bottle and greenish black powder floated from the bottle and landed in the mass of blood on his brothers back. Dean watched as he saw the powder burn its way right through his brother's blood. It disappeared beyond Dean's eyes. If the powder was could burn blood…

Sam's back arched again and he screamed at the top of his lungs. Even though the wind was loud and getting fiercer, all three men could here the chemical crackling and hissing under Sam's skin.

Dean quickly dropped the bottle and raced to grab something…anything to stop that bleeding. Both John and Bobby caught Dean's frantic movements and both joined in and grabbed every towel and placed it on the youngest Winchesters back. Sam once again fell limp against the bed.

"Dad, it's not working!" Dean yelled as he watched the blood seep straight through the towel and into his hands.

John understood and ran to the door. As soon as he opened the door, everything stopped. The wind, the noise, the commotion, was gone. And nurses were casually walking down the spotless hallway. How could everything be so calm out there when his boy was in so much pain in here? He ignored the thought and ran out into the hallway. Seeing Dr. Jameson he didn't even bother to go to him. He just yelled.

"Dr. Jameson! Help! My boy needs help, now!" John yelled; fear that he never known was possible to feel seeping into the fear in his voice.

Dr. Jameson immediately paced down the hallway followed by a nurse.

"John what is it?" Dr. Jameson questioned.

John didn't respond as he grabbed the doctor by the arm and pushed him inside. He let the nurse also made it inside and closed the door behind them. Dr. Jameson looked around at the destroyed room, astonished by the light breeze flowing through the broken window.

"Dear God," The nurse gasped at the sight of the bloody mass on the bed.

"Dean?" Dr. Jameson ran to the boy's side and pulled at the bloody towels. "What did you do?"

Dean backed away from Sam and watched the doctor inspect Sam's wound: the wound that Dean had inflicted on his brother. "I had to save him," Dean mumbled and leaned into his father's chest the moment he felt his father pull him into a hug.

Dr. Jameson looked at Dean in surprise and then to John.

"It doesn't matter what happened. Sam has a deep cut in his back, now fix it!" John yelled, holding his shaking son in his arms.

Dr. Jameson nodded and quickly went to work on Sam's back.

Dean was unaware of the orders the doctor barked, his full attention on his brothers pain filled face. Even unconscious, Sam had signs of pain on over him.

"Dad?" Dean looked up to his father, letting the threatening tears fall down his cheeks. Dean had no idea what he'd done to his brother…he thought he was saving his life but now Sam seamed to be only hanging on by a thread. A thread that Dean weakened for him.

"Dean's everything's going to be fine," Bobby assured, and Dean was surprised his father wasn't the one to reply to Dean's worried voice for reassurance.

John simply nodded and hugged Dean tighter.

Dean looked back to his brother and noticed that the doctor wasn't as frantic. He was calmly stitching Sam's wound.

"Doc?" John questioned.

"He's going to be okay," Dr. Jameson smiled as he started wrapping Sam's wound with gauze.

"Thank God," Dean gasped and he heard his dad catch his breath also. John gave his son another reassuring squeeze and released him.

As the nurse maneuvered back to the doctor's side, Dean made his way to Sam. He knelt down on the floor and took Sam's hand in his. "Sam, you're going to be ok. You're safe now," Dean whispered to him.

Dean felt John's hand on his shoulder and looked to see him kneeling next to him, looking at Sam. "You're big brother is a hero Sammy. He saved you. And he saved us all from a whole lot of Hell too." John said to Sam. And even though Sam didn't show any signs that he heard his father and brother, his face looked pleased and safe.


48 hours ago, if you would have told Dean Winchester that he would fight a ghost, he would say "Well I believe that, because that is what I'm made to do" If you told him that he would save his brothers life he would respond "Well I believe that, because that is what I'm made to do" But if you told him that he would be sitting next to his brothers hospital bed with his father, laughing and acting as if their wasn't another care in the world, Dean would reply simply, "What are you, high? You must not know my family, dude."

Well who ever said that last one must have been high because they had no idea what they were talking about. Dean wasn't laughing and acting like there wasn't another care in the world and John wasn't even with them. Since Dean had successfully stopped Jackson's plan to kill Sam, John and Bobby went to work immediately on finding and burning the bones. They were at the grave now. John called Dean almost every ten minutes to see if Sam was okay, or if he woke up.

Sam hadn't reawaked from when he passed out while Dean's ferrous oxide ran its course. The doctor couldn't find any medical reason and assumed Sam will awake when his body and mind is ready for it. No one could imagine the pain Sam must have endured…the oxide literally burning its way to the infection. Luckily it hadn't burnt through anything important and luckily, it worked. The doctor preformed an emergency test and the infection had completely disappeared from Sam's body.

Dean was deep in concentration…looking for any sign for his brother to awake. He was not only anxious to see his eyes again, but also anxious to tell him that he saved his life, and of course, gloat. The sound of his phone vibrating whipped him out of his day dreaming and he immediately answered the phone without even looking to see who it was.

"Yes Dad?"

"Has he woken up yet?" John questioned.

"No. And since when are you so ever protective? You should be worrying about burning those dang bones!"

"We've got the bones Dean. I'm just about to light the fire." John explained.

"Thank God," Dean sighed and rubbed his hands across his face.

"Yeah. I'll give you a call when were almost back. And call me if something changes with Sam." John demanded.

"Of course Dad. See ya soon," Dean said and hung up. He placed the phone back on the stand and looked back to his brother to see two pair of green eyes staring back at him.

"Dean…" Sam trailed off as he winced.

"Sam," Dean sighed in relief. He sat on the edge of his seat to get closer to his brother. "Be careful. You have a back injury," Dean smirked but it soon faltered as he saw the confusion in Sam's eyes. "You don't remember?"

"No," Was Sam's reply. "The last thing I remember was Bobby and John talking about going to find that ghost that's after to me. What happened? Did he try and kill me?"

"Yeah, the infection was attacking your spine. But I'm the one that injured your back. I…uh…had to cut into it to get to the infection directly."

All color drained from Sam's face. "You…cut…into…me?"

"Yeah buddy, but you'll be okay," Dean smirked and Sam smiled back weakly. "Hey by the way, how's your leg?"

"They're sore," Sam complained.

"Sore?" Dean perked up in his chair. "So you mean you can feel them?"

Sam smiled. "Yeah I guess I can. I can't even remember what if felt like not to anymore."

"Well I'm glad for that. And Jackson's being burnt to a crisp as we speak."

"Good. What happened to the other ghost…the candy girl?"

"I don't know. She helped me figure out how to save you and Jackson didn't like that. I don't know what he did to her but she saved your butt."

"Yeah, I guess I just wanted to thank her," Sam sighed.

"Hey, you should be thanking me dude. I'm the one that had to cut open my baby brother and pour powder that burnt through…" Dean trailed off, not wanting his brother to know or remember the full details.

Sam caught the drift and didn't press. He was just happy to be alive; to be here with his brother, his hero.


Three Months Later

Sam lay asleep on the smelly, ratty, old motel bed, Dean sound asleep on the identical one next to him.

The brothers had both been in recovery and this was the first night they looked peaceful. Dean lay on his stomach, his butt half in the air, his mouth wide open with drool dripping onto the pillow. Sam, though not looking as goofy or embarrassing, looked just as at peace. But no one could imagine the scenes that were arranging in the young boys heads.

Sam's Dream

"I thought you hated me," Sam sat on the floor…of darkness once again. It was like he was in a coma again, but this time he knew the way out. This time, he built a door. To the left of older Dean was an old fashioned wooden door that led out of him mind. It wasn't very creative but it reassured Sam that he was safe.

"I don't hate you Sam. I could never hate you," Dean replied.

"But you said,"

"I know what I said. But I was angry and you know how I get when I'm upset.

Sam nodded and the boys were silent for only a few moments when Sam spoke the one question that's been haunting him for ever since the last time he's seen older Dean. "How do I change?" Sam whispered.

Dean looked Sam in the eye. "It's the future Sam. There's nothing you can do to change it, it's already set no matter what you know or do. Am I happy with that? No, I wish I can change it. But what you become is what you become. But how I deal with it is the answer."

"Dean, that doesn't make any sense." Sam complained.

Dean laughed. "Yeah, it didn't make much sense to me either and I'm the one that said it."

"Please tell me. What do I become Dean?"

Dean looked at Sam with sad eyes and both brothers, though of different ages and times, were unable to look away. "You become something that us, now, would want to hunt."

Dean's Dream

"Hello?!" Dean yelled out. He was in the middle of the forest and felt like he'd been running for hours on end. But the imagery hadn't changed…just trees. Nothing but trees.

"Hello?! Anyone one out there?!" Dean yelled once again.

"Yes, and could you be quiet?" A snickery voice responded. "There's not much room in here and your voice is awfully echoic."

Dean turned towards the voice and was soon facing Jackson McDonald. Dean instantly attacked. "You son of a bitch!" He swung but his flew through air and Jackson had disappeared.

"Oh silly boy. This may be you're head but I do have control." Jackson now stood behind Dean and Dean turned to face him.

"In my head?" Dean asked hesitantly.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to take over your body or anything. Your dad burnt my bones and I'm gone. This is just a dream." Jackson smirked.

"Well then I'd like to wake up now," Dean glared.

"Okay, but first I have some news for you." Jackson smiled a pleasant smile.

"Oh?" Dean asked sarcastically. "What good news could a ghost that tried to kill my brother have for me?"

"Not good news. Bad… very bad news. About Sam."

Dean was suddenly interested. "Explain."

"Killing me was a mistake. And so was saving Sam."

Dean rolled his eyes. "It wasn't a mistake."

"You don't know what you've done by killing me. Do you know how many people I've saved?"

"Saved?! You killed people for a hobby!" Dean yelled.

"No! I killed people that were going to kill people on their futures," Jackson snapped back.

"What?" Dean asked shocked.

"That's right. Everyone I've ever killed, were to become killers in their futures. But I guess no one would put that connection together? And recently I've been finding these kids with a strange future," Jackson explained.

"Shut-up," Dean stated, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

"No Dean. I killed to save people. I killed the serial killer of 1930, and of 1973, saving over 75 people! I am a hero. Plus hundreds more."

"What about Samantha? Was she the masked candy striper killer of 1935, huh?!" He sasked sarcastically.

"No," Jackson said sadly. "But I couldn't let her stop me. I knew of the life after and I knew I could continue. But I didn't know she would stay behind too. And her help was highly appreciated."

"But she crossed you. She crossed you to help me. What did you do to her then?"

"Nothing. I was angry, yes. I went looking for her but when I found her she was surrounded by a bright light. She moved on, that's it. I didn't touch her. What ever her business she needed to complete, she must have completed it."

"I don't believe you." Dean stated crossing his arms.

"I don't care."

"Then why are you telling me this?" Dean barked back.

"Because you need to understand of all the people you've killed. Do you know how many people I could have saved?"

"No. And where ever you're resources are for finding these so called 'killers', tell them to do a recheck on Sam. I know Sam. He's not any killer."

"Not directly no. But like I said…these kids that I've found. They're futures are full of hate, demons and death. And once I found Sam I could not let him live on."

"Why!? Why do you suspect Sam of that?! His future is fine as long as I'm in it."

"Oh, you're in it Dean. Trust me," Jackson huffed. "But like I said…Sam's soul was the only soul that I think that after I collected it, I was going to kill off completey myself. I'm afraid of him. He's not just going to hurt a few people Dean." Jackson paused, "He's going to set of the end of the world."


At the same time, both Winchester brothers awoke with a large gasp pf breath. Sam shot up, immediately trying to catch his breath. Dean rolled over and sat up, wiping off the sweat from his brow.

Dean looked over to his brother. "You okay?" He questioned, letting his own fear be replaced by Sam's scared face.

"Uh…yeah. You?" Sam asked, doing the same for his brother.

"Yeah," Dean answered though he wasn't exactly sure.

"Bad dream?" Sam took another deep breath but settled back against the back board, trying to forget his own nightmare.

"Yeah. You?"


"Wanna talk about it?"

"No," Sam said, almost too quickly. "You?" He tried to relax.

"Nope," Dean said bleakly.

"Okay then," Sam replied, starting to lie down in the bed again.

"Hey Sam?" Dean questioned and Sam looked up to his brother. "Just remember. Dreams, they don't mean a thing. The future…it's complicated but it hasn't happened yet so it can change. Okay?" Dean asked, even though he didn't think what he said would make much sense to Sam; it made him feel a little better.

"Yeah," Sam agreed with a smile, and the words made more sense to Sam then Dean expected.

"Okay." Dean took another deep breath and felt slightly more relaxed. "Now go to sleep. Recovery's done. Dad's coming and we've got our first hunt since the accident tomorrow."

"Okay Dean. Good night." Sam nestled back into his pillow, just still not as comfortable.

Dean followed his brother and got comfortable once again, just not exactly still at ease. "Good night Sam."

The End

A/N: Okay, so there the end. I know I said lots of more chapters but I didn't want to run with this too much and have it be hard to write… but I still hoped you liked it. I hope you enjoyed my story and I thank everyone who read and/or reviewed! Keep a look out for more Supernatural stories from me, because I've got tons of ideas and I'll be starting another story here real soon! =) Again, reviews are still loved. =) Miss Dassy

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