AN: Thanks again to everyone for the well-wishes. Knowing that there's so many people willing to help that don't even know me really makes a difference in how I feel. Seriously, thank you all. Allow this final chapter to be a true sign of my gratitude.

"There's gotta be something we missed." Sam thought aloud as he paced.

"No kidding, Sherlock." Deans snapped back.

"Okay, if burning the body didn't work, he's gotta be attached to something else. But what?"

"You said they hung-"

"Hanged." Sam corrected.

"Dammit, Sam, is now the time?!"

"Sorry." Sam muttered.

"Hanged him on the tree where his corpse was, right?"

"Right..."

"Maybe it's the tree that he's tied to."

"I-I don't know, Dean." Sam mumbled. "It just feels like we're missing something."

"Fine, I'll go torch the damn thing and you can sit your ass down in the library looking for that missing something."

"Whoa, where the hell is this coming from?"

"You just think you're so much smarter than me, huh?"

"What?" Sam asked taken back. "No, Dean, that's insane!"

Scoffing slightly, Dean remarked, "Really? Cuz this whole damn hunt you've done nothing but correct me and doubt every freaking thing I say!"

"Not sure if you've noticed," Sam spat back, slowly becoming just as equally pissed. "But usually when we miss stuff, people die! I just want to be sure that we don't go into this blind, and find out we're next."

"Right, cuz I was completely helpless without you and your research three years ago."

"I never said that!" Sam closed his eyes, taking a calming exhale. "Dean, look. We messed up, okay? We, not just one of us, both of us, and it sucks, and now we've got a chance to make it right. But we gotta do it together."

"I'm burning the tree. You can either come with me or stay here."

"Dean, wait." Sam tried to plea as Dean headed for the door. "Dean!"

The door slammed shut.

On his side of the door, Dean was mad, but he wasn't an idiot. He knew better than to try to burn the tree in broad daylight. He'd wait until nighttime, but not before he let Mister-Know-It-All-Sam worry about him, while in reality, he'd just be paying the local bar a visit.

Was his anger unjustified? No. Did he maybe go too far with how he snapped at Sam? Yeah, probably. But he'd had enough of Sam talking down to him. Kid needed to learn when to shut his freaking mouth.

Sure, he knew Sam was hurting right now, but with all the condescension and 'playful' banter Sam had been partaking in, he obviously wasn't too bad.

Or- so Dean had believed.

Back on the other side of the door, Sam was in awe. He just couldn't believe Dean was actually mad enough to walk out on him. But Sam knew it had nothing to do with him correcting Dean's grammar.

Even now, it hadn't been that long since John's death. Normally in that type of circumstance, you'd avoid anything dealing with death, but when death is kind of your job- yeah, you're gonna snap eventually.

As tough as Dean's outer shell appeared to be, Sam knew how much he really cared about other people. Even these people, murderers. It was still wrong, and it had to be stopped.

But dammit, Dean wasn't thinking clearly! 'Never hunt angry' John had always said. Clouds your judgement, distracts you from your objective. Sam knew he couldn't help Dean properly until he had all his information, so he opened up his laptop, and started his research on Nicholas anew.

After nearly an hour of internet scavenging, a particular blog had caught his eye, one that was written by someone claiming to be a descendent of Nicholas himself.

"My several 'greats' over grandmother was the daughter of Nick and Lily Hicks. She was only three when she lost both her parents. But you can bet your ass she remembered it.

Nick wasn't a very well-liked man in their town. He wasn't rich, always dirty, had to work every damn hour of his life just to stay alive, but Lily, she was beautiful. Beautiful enough to catch the eye of the town's governor. Lots of people knew about it, but they knew better than to call out the man who could expel them from their homes. Poor Lily never stood a chance.

There was talk that one day while Nick was working on the fields, the governor had stormed in on Lily in a drunken fit. She called for help, but not one person came to help her.

By the time Nick returned, Lily was already dead. He was arrested and hanged the next day, despite the cries of their desperate daughter."

This-this changed everything. Nick was innocent.

Oh, crap. Dean!

Not even bothering to close his laptop, Sam shot up out of his seat, and hurried out the door.

He'd spent far too much time, in his opinion, luring away the police that were staking out the tree by calling in with a fake tip about another body. Of course they were guarding it, they still believed that this is some whacked up psycho-killer.

Finally alone, Sam shouted, "Dean!" Where the hell was he?! "Dean!" Why wouldn't he be here? Still moving frantically about, Sam pulled out his cell and started to call his brother. He wasn't surprised when it went to voicemail, but it still caused his gut to clench in fear.

"Dean, I know you're pissed, but you gotta listen to me. Nick was framed, okay? He's not our ghost, but whoever is is still out here. And if it finds out what you're trying to do, it's gonna-" He was cut off when what felt like sandpaper constricted around his throat and squeezed.

"He was innocent!" A feminine voice hissed.

Struggling to free himself (and to breathe), Sam turned around to face his attacker.

"The governor killed me, but they punished my husband for it!"

Oh, God. Lily.

"But you," she continued, tightening the drip on his neck even more. "You are a killer. You killed Madison."

Eyes widening in fear, Sam started to desperately shake his head. "I didn't want to, she told me to, begged me to. I'd give anything to bring her back." Were all the things he wanted to say, but only a wheeze of air slid past his lips.

"You will pay. Justice will finally be served."

So that's why she was doing this. Punishing those who got away with the crime her husband was wrongly accused of. Justice was supposed to be blind, not a dead housewife.

What was Sam going to do now? He still had no idea where Dean was, and no way of warning him-

The phone! Sam cast a panicked glance to it, trying to see if the call was still connected. Lily had just given herself away, it was just a matter of whether or not Dean heard it.

Before Sam got the chance to see if his phone was still on, his vision went red, head shooting back on a panicked garble as Lily tugged the coarse rope around his neck like a leash, dragging him away from his phone, his safety, Dean...

Sam must've blacked out for a while, because the next time he was coherent enough to take in his surroundings, he was outside by the- oh, no... The tree.

The rope had slackened in his apparent move, and he darted forward about an entire step before he felt his neck nearly snap at a sudden yank of the rope, causing him to collapse back on the ground. His hands shot up to his burning neck, a series of coughs erupting from his already raw throat.

Blearily, he looked behind him again, and his stomach dropped once more when he saw the few yards of rope tail that had already been thrown over the tree's branch. The end was held in Lily's hands, an icy, judgmental stare unwavering from her face.

"Justice." Was all she said.

"L-listen to me." Sam almost cringed at the cracks of his voice. "I didn't want to kill Madison, I-"

"But. You. Did." Lily challenged, knuckles whitening from her grip on the rope.

"I-I know." Sam admitted, voice no longer trembling just from the loss of oxygen. "Sh-she was a monster. She couldn't be saved." "We had a lot in common..."

"It was slow, you know." Lily explained, staring almost sadly into the distance as she ignored Sam's attempt at a plea. "They didn't simply snap his neck when they hanged him. They pulled him up, let him struggle until he suffocated."

Trying to swallow past the choking pressure on his neck, Sam said genuinely, "I'm sorry. He didn't deserve it."

She nodded, but before Sam could so much as begin to think that maybe he had gotten through to her, her uncaring eyes snapped back to meet his. "But you do."

And she began to pull the rope.

Sam's hands shot up to the extra length to ease the strain, and his feet began to scrabble on the ground while they could still reach.

"L-Lily," He wheezed. "What happened to Nick," His legs kept squirming. "Was wrong. But- you keep doing this, and you're no better than the governor."

Lily froze. Clearly, those were not the words Sam should have picked.

Scream an apology? Try to distract her? Sam had no idea what to do now, but then it was already too late.

With a final and overly harsh yank, Sam was airbourne, feet dangling helplessly above the ground. He tried to pull himself a little higher so his arms bore some of the weight, but the unexpected tug had weakened him, and he couldn't get a good enough grip.

"Stay calm, think it through. Look for a way out." The rational side of his brain instructed him, but the rest of him tried to drown it out with its desperate cries of, "Air, now, can't breathe, can't think, need air, please, now, please..." The last part of him thought of only one thing.

"Dean..."

Sam's hands could only claw at the rope for so long. They became impossibly heavy, too heavy to hold up any longer.

"Fight, dammit!" Logic cried.

"C-can't breathe..." Wheezed Desperation.

"Save me, Dean." Pleaded Hope.

All the voices were useless, he knew he couldn't fight, he obviously knew he couldn't breathe, and he was damn sure Dean wasn't coming for him.

Throat tightening, tongue swelling to the point of making Sam gag, Sam's legs eventually stopped kicking. He wanted to struggle, he wanted to breathe, and more than anything, he wanted to believe that Dean was coming for him, but-

Suddenly, he dropped. The rope vanished from his neck, and even as his vision started fading, he vaguely saw Lily throw her head back on a shriek as her ghost burst into flames.

With a smile, Sam passed out with a final thought. "Guess Dean really does care."

Madison was crying. She wouldn't look at Sam, not that Sam could look at her either.

He cocked the gun, and nearly sobbed when he saw her flinch, and heard her whimper in fear of the inevitable.

Right before he pulled the trigger, she lifted her head. Her crying eyes met his, but she gave him a nod, and mouthed, 'It's okay.'

"No it isn't." Sam thought, but he wouldn't let her know how much it hurt him to do this anymore than he already had, so he did the most painful and difficult thing in his life.

He smiled, and nodded, leaving her with a final happy image as he pulled the trigger.

"Sam! Sammy, c'mon!"

There was a thump accompanied with an almost painful pressure on Sam's chest.

"Breathe, dammit!"

Thump.

"Don't you dare do this to me!"

Thump.

"C'mon, Sammy, I need you."

Thump, and this time, Sam lurched up with a strangled gasp.

Dean sighed in relief. "Thank God." He took a few breaths to calm himself, heartbeat beginning to fall into a less hectic and panicked rhythm. "You alright?"

Rubbing a hand over his scorched and raw neck, Sam gave a nod, a harsh cough following it. "H-how-?"

"Got your message." Dean cut him off, not wanting Sam to strain himself any further. "Figured out where the bitch was buried and took care of her. It's done now, for sure this time." He assured Sam.

Sam gave a nod in answer, too tired to give anything more.

After a few moments of silence, Dean helped get Sam on his feet, and asked. "Damn, Sammy, why's it always gotta be your neck?"

Oh, if only Sam had an answer.

AN: Good news everyone. I've already started my next fic. Now depending on who you are, this can either be disappointing or really, really exciting news, but this next fic will be very torture heavy, loads of hurt Sam. Like I said, can be either good or bad news. I've even got y'all a little-

Sneak Peek: "He was free to wake up with a hangover rather than a concussion from being thrown into a wall. Free to study law rather than the life of a deceased serial killer. Free to just live life, rather than constantly fear that he could lose it."

Title may change, but will most likely be called On My Own. Not sure when I'll be getting it up, but keep an eye out for it! Thanks again and drop a review of what you thought of this story. Until next time, carry on my wayward sons!