A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Sorry if I kept you waiting. Don't forget to review.

Disclaimer: I just noticed that I haven't ever put one of these in here… Oops. Well, I think it's obvious that I don't own this so, there.

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"Maybe Sam was right about that dog…" Dean thought to himself as he was being launched through the air from another one of the puppy's blows. He landed in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the ditch, blood dripping from his head.

Dean tried to shake some of the dizziness away, but the world just wouldn't stop spinning. The4 puppy was approaching Dean quickly, its teeth bared.

"Is something going on?" the familiar of Patrick woke Sam a little from his daze. "I heard a- Hey, what the heck happened to my backyard!"

"Go inside, Patrick," Dean blurted out.

Scrappy's eyes shined a brighter red as it changed its course to Patrick. The young man backed away slowly.

"Uhh, is something wrong with your dog, Agent Dean?" Patrick said, staring warily at the puppy drawing nearer.

"Get inside your home!" Dean yelled. He picked up a large rock and through it at the puppy. The dog seemed unaffected by the action and continued to advance on Patrick.

Patrick backed into one of the porch columns and stared at the dog fearfully.

Dean couldn't see the whole ordeal very well, half because he was woozy and half because it was out of his line a vision. This left him very worried.

Dean's feelings of the worst were affirmed when he saw Patrick being hurled into the air as he was a few minutes ago. The young man crashed backwards into a big brick wall and landed harshly onto the floor. He groaned which was a good sign he hadn't died yet.

Scrappy trotted back into view, his eyes shining crimson now, and hopped back into the ditch to finish the business with Dean.

Dean tried to focus his eyes on the puppy, but it seemed to get harder and harder to do so. The last thing he remembered before blacking out was the dog collapsing on the floor.

That's odd…

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"Please don't be dead. God, let my brother be alive." Sam had been repeating those two lines since he had left the library. The young man had also been driving several miles over the speed limit, so he also was saying a few other lines.

"Please don't let that be a cop at that intersection."

To Sam's dismay, it was.

The red and blue lights flashed against his windows, causing Sam to panic.

The law or your brother? The law or your brother? Those really shouldn't be the options, Sam!

Sam continued to drive faster. Sam could spy the cop's glare though his rearview window and cringed.

I'm in so much trouble.

Now Sam was hoping that Dean was hurt, so that maybe he wouldn't get into that much trouble when he stopped. He arrived in the neighborhood of the victim's house and remembered that he had forgotten the address.

Could this rescue suck any more than it does now!

Sam tried hard to remember any landmarks that would set it apart from others.

Ah, that one big Doberman statue that Dean said looked like me in the morning!

…That was a bittersweet thought.

Sam scanned the fast passing houses for the dog sculpture and halted suddenly when he finally spotted it. Doing so caused quite a wreck with the two police cars that were trailing so close behind him though.

Oops…. Dean's going to kill me.

Sam rushed out of the car, glancing at the cops, who were trying to release themselves from the wrecked cars, and the damaged rear of Dean's car. He put the worry of Dean strangling him to the side and ran for the side-gate.

He hopped over the wooden and metal fence, three officers following suite behind him, and ran over to the side of the backyard.

Sam saw the body of some twenty-something-year-old lying in a heap to the side and continued to scan the area for his brother.

He finally spotted his brother. His head was lolling at the demon-dog slowly advancing on him. Sam went to stop the dog, but found himself restrained suddenly by strong arms.

Sam looked bewilderedly to his sides and found that the officers had finally caught up and now had him held back.

"Wait, no, stop this. That's my brother down there!" Sam cried, pointing with his restrained hand down the ditch. "That puppy is going to kill him!"

"Yeah, yeah, tell that crappy story to the judge." The officer replied, taking out a pair of handcuffs.

"You have to believe me, can't you see that he's going to eat my brother!" Sam yelled, struggling to get out of their grips.

The officers studied the puppy for a moment, not noticing anything out of the usual. One of them whistled at him, making the dog's head turn, exposing its lengthy fangs.

"Holy crap, what the heck is wrong with that puppy!" one of the officers yelled, releasing his hold on Sam trying to take out his gun.

Suddenly, a shot went off and the puppy collapsed.

Everybody in looked at the officer who was trying to take his gun out before, assuming it was him, and found him looking around confusedly too.

"Who shot the dog?" one of the officers asked.

A rustling was heard in a bush over the fence and two of the cops raced over to check it out.

Sam and two of the remaining officers cautiously slid down the ditch to examine the two bodies.

Sam kicked the puppy to make sure it was dead and backed away suddenly when black dust poured out of its shot wound.

"That's weird…" one of the officers commented, who was watching the scene.

Sam turned his attention to his wounded brother who sat in an unconscious state, both of his legs pointed in odd directions.

One of the officers walked over, checked for a pulse, and then pulled out his walkie-talkie.

"2-3-9-5-We need an ambulance over here on 2098 Valdez Street, that's 2098 Valdez Street." The cop repeated into his device.

Sam stared at his brother worriedly, waiting anxiously for the ambulance to come to make sure his brother was alright.

Sam glanced over at the body he had seen before and saw the young man being talked to by the officers. He stared over at Sam and smiled. Sam smiled confusedly back before hearing the ring of the ambulance trucks.

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"Ugh," Dean groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his bed. "Ow."

Sam woke up from the chair he had been sitting in for who knows how long bringing his attention to his fidgeting brother.

"Dean? Dean, are you going to wake up?" Sam asked, prodding his brother on the shoulder.

"Ow, yes, stop jabbing me with pens now please," Dean said, opening his eyes lazily.

"I'm not jabbing- Oh, uh, sorry." Sam replied, forgetting for a moment about his brother's bruises.

"Where are we?" Dean said, rubbing his eyes groggily. "How long have I been out?"

"We're at the hospital; you've been asleep for about two days." Sam said.

"What?" Dean said, now slightly more awake. "What're we doing here?"

"You don't remember? You know, the demon-dog, Patrick Daniels, does any of this ring a bell?" Sam finished, after noticing his brothers confused expressions.

"It probably will in a couple of days," Dean said, trying to sit up. He grimaced when he noticed his legs didn't seem to let him. Sam pushed him back down onto the bed.

"You can't do that. The demon-dog fractured both your legs. I still can't believe you can't remember him; he must've fractured your brain too. That or it was already like that." Sam snickered.

Dean glared up at him.

"Where's Scrappy at?" Dean asked after a silence.

Sam gave him an incredulous look.

"Scrappy was the demon-dog! The demon-dog was Scrappy! How much evidence are you going to need before you believe me?" Sam cried.

Dean gave him a thoughtful look.

"Well, once you stop acting insane and paranoid would be a start…" Dean pointed out with a smile.

Sam got frustrated and hit his brother upside the head.

"Mr. Winchester, we do not allow the visitors to hit and yell at the patients. You leave now." A hefty nurse, who had been standing there for some time, said. She had her hands on her hips and was pointing firmly out the door. "I need to change Dean's medications anyway. You can visit again once you get more control."

"Yeah, Sam, you need to calm down." Dean reprimanded.

Sam glared livid at his brother before walking moodily out.

It's good to have Dean back.

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"-He was a good dog. For the few moments when Sam wasn't trying to kill him and when he wasn't supposedly 'demon-possessed', those times were really great." Dean finished, dropping his small flower on the little gravestone.

Sam rolled his eyes at the comment.

"Who did you say was my Scrappy's killer?"

"It was the same guy who killed Patrick's dog Bobo." Sam exclaimed, staring at the little stone grave with the word "Scrappy" engraved into it. "It was just some man who didn't like canines. So I guess you were right about it being a strange man and not something supernatural."

"As per usual." Dean said with a grin.

"Why are you even here? That dog tried to eat me!" Sam asked.

"All dogs try to eat you, Sammy. Anyways, I still don't remember my sweet little puppy being evil." Dean said.

"Isn't the fact that you're in a wheelchair enough proof?" Sam asked, pointing at his brother's temporary transportation device.

"How do I know that you didn't just break my legs because you're crazy?" Dean asked, casting his brother a suspicious look.

"I give up!" Sam said, raising his hands in exasperation. He took hold of Dean's chair handles and wheeled him over to the car.

Of course the dog was demon-possessed. Sam must really underestimate me. I just love provoking his frustration. I think it's a sibling thing…

"Man, I think you're the suckiest rescuer on the planet." Dean said, as they approached his once-gorgeous Impala. "You left me with the enemy, wrecked my car, and you got us four driving tickets. I could have done a better job with my hands behind my back."

Sam just glared at his brother, thinking about how great it would feel to just push Dean out of his wheelchair to rot on the ground.

Yep, it was always great to have Dean back…

Fin.

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A/N: Yay, I actually updated pretty quickly! Well, on my standards at least. I hope you enjoyed reading my fic. Thanks to all my reviewers! I hope you leave a little comment on this last chapter.

Have a nice day,

-Sarah