Mcgregor, Iowa
Midnight

"Found it!"Dean Winchester shouted as he threw open the lid to the long wooden box in the basement of a turn of the century bed and breakfast.

Sam forced himself not to jump as the ghost of a thirty-year-old bride materialized less than an inch from his face."Dean."

"I'm hurrying, Sammy."Dean promised his younger brother as he poured gasoline on the bones and struck a match.

"Dean!"Sam shouted suddenly terrified. Something about this one wasn't going right. The ghost's face was livid as she floated toward him.

At the fear in his brother's voice Dean whirled around lighted match still in hand.

Before Dean could even think of moving the ghost swiped a long fingered hand at Sam's chest and then vanished.
Sam made a gurgling sound before collapsing hard to the cement floor.

The match burned down to Dean's thumb alerting him to it's presence. Not feeling it, Dean threw the match in the box and raced to his fallen sibling's side.

"Sam!"Dean called as he skidded to a stop and collapsed to his knees rolling his all too still brother over onto his back.

What Dean saw horrified him to his very core.
Sam's shirt was ripped open at the top of his torso. Ugly deep gashes sliced across Sam's chest and were bleeding heavily.

"Oh God."Dean whispered hoarsely as he took in his brother's wounds.

"Dean..."Sam called his voice coming out in a strangled croak. He knew his brother was there but for some reason he couldn't see him.

"Hang in there,Sammy."Dean pleaded as he shrugged out of his leather jacket and ripped off his tan t-shirt using it as a compress on the gashes.

With his free hand Dean fished his cell phone out of his jackets' pocket and frantically dialed 911.

Not waiting for the operator to ask the normal questions Dean said. "My brother's hurt badly. We need an ambulance at the Morning Glory Bed and Breakfast, 221 Summit Drive. Please hurry."

Dean snapped the phone closed and tossed it aside. It clattered on the cement and skidded landing near an old trunk.

Sam's breathing had turned weak and shallow his skin was pale and cold to Dean's touch.

"Don't you do this, Sammy."Dean pleaded his voice threatening to break. "Don't do this. Don't you give up! Help's comin'. I just need you to hang in there a little while longer."

Sam struggled to clear his vison but it just made the darkness worse. More than anything he wanted to see Dean's face. His soul needed that. It needed the comfort of Dean's reassurance that everything would be alright.

But all Sam was feeling was the worst cold he'd ever felt.
The pain wasn't even registering any more and that scared Sam.
He should be feeling something.

"Sam."Dean called tears clearly in his voice now. This couldn't be happening.

Not now.
Not after everything.

Sam forced himself to turn toward his brother's voice. It took an enormous amount of effort. And Sam was afraid it was the last bit of strength he had. He couldn' t see any of the basement, not even the moonlight streaming in the small window on the far wall.

"Dean...tell Dad...I'm..."

Dean shook his head violently as he grabbed a quilt out of a nearby box and covered Sam with it as he continued to apply pressure to Sam's wound.

"Don't start talking like that, Sammy."Dean replied desperately fighting to keep control of his emotions. He didn't want to believe what was happening.

He didn't want to believe that fate would take another from him.
Not after all the good they had done.

"You'll be able to tell Dad yourself when we find him."Dean stated the tears he had fought so hard against were flowing freely now.

Sam's mind couldn't grasp onto anything. All he could feel was the cold oblivion that was about to overwhelm him.

"Dean..."Sam whispered his voice barely audible and Dean had to bend down to hear. "Love you."

"No, Sammy."Dean shouted his gaze frantically flying to the window. Where the hell were the paramedics?

Dean reached for his brother's neck and searched for a pulse.
There was none.

Dean looked back at his brother's face to find Sam's eyes glassy and unfocused.

"No!"Dean shouted just as he finally heard a siren screech to a stop on the street above.

"No, Sammy!"Dean pleaded as he pushed the compress aside and began CPR. "No, Sammy...you can't leave...you can't leave."

Dean couldn't believe that he had failed.

The night of the fire he had swore to himself, to his father, to whatever higher power there was that he would protect Sam from any harm.

Dean continued pressing on Sam's shattered chest, blood soaking his hands.

Four pairs of footsteps pounded down the wooden staircase.

Dean didn't look up. His gaze was solely on the face of his best friend.
The best friend he couldn't picture his life without.

*********

The paramedics and the owner of the bed and breakfast pulled Dean to his feet and away from Sam. Dean shook them off and went back to his brother's side.

It took a good five minutes for the owner of the inn and one paramedic to pull Dean away from Sam.

Dean wasn't fighting them, he just wanted to be near Sam.
Dean's body went slack in Mark Reise's grasp as the red haired male paramedic glanced up and shook his head sadly.

"There has to be something you can do."Dean begged.

The paramedic shook his head once again as he reached up and gently closed Sam's eyes. His partner an african-american woman in her late twenties glanced at her watch.

"Time of death, tweleve thirty three a.m."

Dean sank to his knees his gaze fixated on Sam's body as a light smoke began to fill the room.

The female paramedic glanced at Reise. "Do you have a fire estingisher or do you want us to call the fire department?"

Mark Reise, a tall thin man in his early sixties with sharp green eyes shook his head as he looked at the small fire in the wooden box a few feet away.

"I'll have one of my workers put it out. It won't be a problem. It's almost out now anyway."

The male paramedic stood and approached Dean having gotten a metal clipboard out of his bag.

"Sir, I know this is difficult but I'm going to need some information from you. Is there a next of kin we can contact?"

Dean's throat closed. How could he tell his father?

"Sir?"

Dean swallowed hard fighting to get enough moisture to speak. "My father, but he hasn't been in contact with us for awhile."

"The deceased is Dean's younger brother, Sam Winchester."Reise stated attempting to fill in the blanks for the paramedic.

The female paramedic knelt next to Dean checking him for signs of shock. "Sir, do you need us to contact your father for you?"

Dean shook his head. "No...I can do it."

"Okay. I think we should take you in to the ER and have you checked for smoke insulation."

Dean shrugged her off. "I just want my brother taken care of."

Reise knelt next to his young friend placing a gentle hand on Dean's left shoulder. "He will be, but you need to take care of yourself too. Go with them and get checked out."

Dean turned dead eyes toward the inn owner. "Why does it matter?"

Reise helped Dean to his feet. "Because your father will need you."

********

Chicago, IL
One a.m.

Duncan MacLeod was asleep in his bed in his loft apartment located over the art/antique gallery he owned. An electronic ring echoed through the quiet space rousing it's owner.

Duncan cracked one eye open and looked at the source of the noise, his cell phone. It was laying open on the nightstand plugged into it's charger.

The lighted screen told Duncan he had a new text message.

Duncan closed his eyes and almost went back to sleep.
Almost.

Something about the time of night told him not to ignore the message.
With a sigh Duncan reached for the small phone and hit the correct controls to scroll to the message. Seeing it was from Joe, Duncan sat up a little straighter. Joe hated text messages almost as much as he did.

Duncan pushed the key to scroll down and the message appeared:

'New Immie about to awaken in Iowa. Need U to get there fast."

Duncan hit the button to reply back and keyed in "Why me?"

A minute later an answer came back. "No one else."

A wry smile crossed Duncan's lips as he shook his head. "Never is."He muttered out loud.

Duncan sent a reply back asking for directions.

Twenty minutes later Duncan had Joe's reply. He was dressed, packed and in his car headed west.

********

Dean sat in one of the hospital's designated cell phone free zones and clutched the small device to his right ear. As he hit the speed dial button for his father's number Dean hoped against hope that this time he'd hear his Dad's voice and not the answering machine.

For the second time that day his prayer's went unanswered.

Dean cursed as the familiar answering machine message greeted him. God, he did not want to leave this in a message.

"Dad...if you're there please pick up. It's an emergancy. Please..."

A beat and only silence answered him.

Dean swallowed hard fighting a new wave of tears as memories of the last hour returned. "Dad, I need you to come to Iowa. Something bad happened...I couldn't stop it. I couldn't protect him. God, Dad, I tried...I swear to you I did. We lost Sam, Dad...we lost him...he's gone."

As Dean ended the call, the tears won out. The phone slipped from his hand and hit the green carpet below. Sobs wracked Dean's frame as he buried his face in his hands

/Oh God...Sammy./

His brother was dead...it hadn't really sunk in yet. His mind was barely grasping anything except the primal command to keep breathing.

A tender hand on his right shoulder caused Dean to jump three feet. He looked at the young brown haired nurse with red rimmed eyes.

"Mr. Winchester?"The nurse began as she knelt next to him. "The doctor suggested I take you somewhere to clean up. I can get you some clean scrubs to wear."

Dean looked at the woman blankly for a long moment then looked down at his jeans riddled with dark stains.

Sam's blood.

Dean stood shakily and the nurse quickly rose to her feet and grabbed his left arm to support him. As the nurse took some of his weight it was only then that Dean saw his hands.

His hands and forearms were tinged red.
They were covered with his brother's blood.

Dean's mind not being able to process any more simply shut down.

"Mr. Winchester, are you alright?"The nurse asked as she saw Dean's eyes roll back in his head.

"Oh,no."The nurse whispered and she was barely able to manuver Dean back to the seat he'd been in minutes earlier before he fainted.

******

Duncan sped down the interstate toward the Mississippi river. The last thing he needed right now was a new student to teach.

He was weary of the Game and everything it brought. He was hardly the best person to send.

The last ten years had been difficult.

But if Joe told him to go it had to be something important. And Duncan owed Joe more than one favor so he wasn't in a position to refuse.

Duncan sighed and rested his left arm against the window. He hadn't had a student since Richie.

At the thought of Richie a familiar pain swelled in Duncan's chest.

Bad memories threatened to surface and Duncan pushed them back.

This wasn't the time to dwell on the past and regrets. There was a new Immie that needed his protection.

And Duncan would do the best that he could.