Well, this is it. The ride is over. I had a blast writing this and I'm honored so many took the time to enjoy it along with me. Funny…as I come to this I realize that it's hard to let it end. Part of me wants to keep it going forever…but that's impractical.

A very sincere thank you goes to everyone who read and especially everyone who reviewed. You made this story possible on so many levels.

I have an idea for a sequel, of sorts, mainly set in New York while the boys stay with Sarah. It's just now percolating though. For the moment, I get to go back to simply reading everyone else's stories…and finishing my long overdue Battlestar Galactica piece.

I don't own anything. Final reviews welcomed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue

It wasn't a wild dog. Sam's initial evaluation was correct…as it so often was. A hell hound, or Black Dog, according to their Dad's journal, was on the loose in the northern section of Catskill Park. A night of running and shouting, culminating in a rock salt shootout wasn't what Dean had in mind when he pitched this "easy job" to Sam.

Dean ran over to where Sam lay slumped against the car door. Sam's right forearm was scratched up pretty badly, but thankfully the damage was superficial. Dammit! He's recovering from being assaulted and tortured by vampires and I have to take him out hunting phantoms...what the hell is wrong with me?

"Sam…oh, man…I'm sorry…I didn't think---"

Sam's laughter cut off Dean's apology. Dean looked at his brother as if the younger one had grown a second head.

"Two nights at Sarah's, four nights after leaving the hospital," Sam choked out between giggles, "and I'm mauled by the ghost of Lassie…."

Dean couldn't stop the smile from creeping onto his face, "Well, you do have this way of attracting attention to yourself." He finished wrapping gauze around Sam's abrasions and hauled him to his feet, "Seriously, you okay?"

Sam nodded almost merrily. Dean stared at him with concern, wondering if Sam hadn't gone crazy or something. Sam noticed the look.

"Dude, it's fine. It felt good blasting that thing back to hell. Better than wallowing around up here," he tapped his temple with his left hand.

Dean tried to frown but ended up smiling again, "You need therapy, you know that?"

Sam smelled his clothes, "What I need is a shower…I smell like dog slobber," he paused and looked at Dean, "and so do you for that matter…."

Dean scowled and pointed to the passenger side door, "Oh, you're hilarious. Get in the car, Samantha."

During the drive back, Sam told Dean about a report he saw in the paper about some missing teenagers in Poughkeepsie. It was the fifth potential job he'd pitched that night.

"I think we should check it out."

Dean shook his head, "Dude, we're here to see Sarah…so you can see Sarah. We aren't running all over New York chasing bad guys while you've got a smokin' hottie waiting for you. What kind of big brother would I be if I let you miss out on that?"

Sam frowned, "Is Dean Winchester passing up a job?"

Dean frowned, a sudden irritation overriding the filter in his brain, and shouted back, "No, Dean Winchester just got his baby brother back after he almost died and doesn't want to see him back in the hospital for a LONG time!"

Sam looked stricken, any previous good humor lost. Dean didn't know what to say for a minute. Sam just turned to stare out the windshield silently.

"I'm sorry, Sam, I didn't mean to…I just…look. Didn't those pamphlets say something about 'avoidance' and 'denial?' It just seems to me you're trying to keep us busy so you won't have to---"

"I know," Sam interrupted, "I know. You're right…I--- I just want things to go back to normal, that's all."

Heh, "normal," Dean thought wryly, that'd be a change for us. The irony of Sam referring to hunting as 'normal' wasn't lost on him either.

"They will, Sammy. Don't rush it. Besides, Sarah took a month's vacation just so she could spend time with you. We owe her…and I think you could use some shore leave."

Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Sam, who rolled his eyes in exasperation. But the smile that graced his features was impossible to miss.

"Uh-huh…you know it. Come on, say it."

Sam set his jaw, "No."

"Saa-mmy..." Dean sing-songed, "Come on, say what we agreed on."

"We didn't agree on anything---"

"Sam."

Sam sighed dramatically, "Fine. You're right, Dean. You're always right."

"And why is that?"

Another sigh, "Because you're the older brother."

Dean nodded in approval, satisfied.

"You're also an asshole."

Dean held his extended middle finger to his ear, pointed at Sam, "Sorry, I didn't catch that last part."

This time Sam laughed out loud.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The first four days at Sarah's place passed without incident, despite the interlude with Satan's pooch. Dean kicked back and enjoyed the very nice house; he had forgotten that her family was rich. Sam had a different experience. Sam had Matchmaker Dean to contend with. He made sure that Sam and Sarah went out at least once every day or night. He steered them towards not-so-populated events, like late-night movies and walks in parks.

Of course, Dean followed. He hated to spy, but given the events in Ohio there was no way in hell he was going to let Sam out of his sight in any public place…even for a little while. He didn't tell Sam what he was doing, and always made sure he was back in the house before Sam returned, so as not to tip him off. He would ask how things went, keeping pleasantly innocent expressions on his face as Sam recounted edited versions of the evenings. Dean didn't reveal that he knew about the "deleted scenes" already. Raunchy stuff…I'll need medication so I won't remember seeing it…ever.

Sam was falling for Sarah, hard. Dean would have been able to tell even if they hadn't been related. Dean himself was more of a one-night stand kind of guy, but he felt overjoyed that his younger brother was finding something to be happy about. More power to him. The best part was that the developing relationship seemed to be doing wonders for Sam. His nightmares were diminishing in intensity; Dean had only been awoken once so far. He still kept the door between his and Sam's room open, though, just in case.

The fourth night kept the lovebirds at home, since a severe thunderstorm hit the area. Dean cooked them all dinner…well, he tried.

"Hey, I can cook!" he retorted when Sam doubted his plan.

They feasted on hot dogs and spaghetti. Dinner of champions!

They didn't foresee any problems for day five.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam woke up early, sunlight hitting him in the eyes. God…the sun must be right outside the window! He glanced down, finding himself under the covers in his guest bed…which was odd since he distinctly remembered nodding off in the living room, while the three of them watched movies and Dean told Sarah ghost stories. Dean hated doing that, since it wasn't fiction to him…but he was willing to entertain Sarah. That made Sam happy…even if Dean made Sam the butt of most of the humor...not to mention a frequent "damsel in distress." It meant alot to him that Dean was willing to make such gestures. He really wanted Dean to like Sarah…especially since he was….

What was he feeling? It seemed familiar, but he hadn't felt anything like it since college. Since Jessica. He frowned, expecting a sudden wave of sadness to overcome him at the thought of Jess...but nothing happened. His tired brain couldn't wrap itself around whatever that meant.

Don't over think it, Sammy.

He still heard Dean's voice in his head, but it was going away. He wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or depressed. He'd started thinking of that little Dean-Voice as his guardian angel…if such things existed. Well, the real thing is sleeping about twenty feet from you, go in there and wake him up if you want to hear him talk. Sam thought about it for a moment, and decided that he didn't want to hear that voice when it had been prematurely woken up for no reason. Slowly bringing himself upright, he gathered his clothes and headed for the shower.

Once the water was cascading over him, he took stock of his condition. The scrapes and scratches from the Black Dog were already fading away. The burn scars from the hot poker were healed…they would never fully go away. The worst of the bruising and scarring below the waistline was almost gone. He was able to walk without hobbling now. Better yet, he could pee without pain. Every guy's fantasy, he thought with a chuckle.

What worried him was the line of electrical burns dotting his lower abdomen. They were healing slower…probably because his pants were constantly rubbing against them. The angry red blobs served as a constant reminder of the worst part of his torture. It hurt to touch them…even thinking about it too long brought on phantom pains. He shook himself out of that downward spiral and focused on washing his hair. He'd promised Dean he'd get a haircut today…if for no other reason than because the elder sibling had taken to calling him "the shaggy dog."

By the time he had replaced the bandages on his remaining wounds, Dean and Sarah were already downstairs, eating breakfast. He trotted down the stairs, greeting Dean while the other poured cereal, and greeting Sarah with a kiss. One he had trouble pulling out of….

"Argh! Get a room, you two. I'm trying to eat here!" Dean cried in mock horror. He dodged a thrown dish towel before they stopped kissing.

Sarah went out to retrieve the morning paper while Sam sat and ate. He noticed Dean staring at him with a shit-eating grin on his face. He sighed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're staring at me."

"Well, you're funny lookin.'"

Sam shook his head and turned back to his cereal. He heard Dean's next nonchalant comment over the scraping of a knife on toast.

"You know, some animals devour their mates after spawning…."

Sam slowly raised his eyes to Dean, cocking his head at the non sequitur, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm just saying that was like watching a Nova special…you were going to consume her just now," Dean answered innocently, that grin back on his face. Sam's aim was true this time; the pot holder hit his brother square in the forehead. Dean's laughter filled the room as Sarah returned with the newspaper.

"We need to be careful when we leave…there are a few limbs and power lines down in the driveway from the storm," she warned, "I'll have to call the power company."

A few minutes later, they were headed out the door. As Sam pulled his jacket on he looked at Dean.

"So, what are you going to do while I'm getting my haircut?"

Sarah chimed in, taking Dean's elbow in her arm, "Dean's taking me shopping downtown."

Dean grimaced, "Ah, man!"

Sam failed to keep the grin off his face, "Buy him something nice, Sarah, he's a size ten."

Dean turned the grimace on him, "Shut up."

"You shut up."

"No, you---"

Sarah sighed, dragging them to the door, "Come along boys…."

Sarah was right; there were limbs down all over, even a few on top of Dean's car. Sam headed around to the passenger side while Dean rushed to inspect the damage, cooing ridiculously over some microscopic scratches on the car's roof. Sam turned passed the front bumper and that's when he saw it. The power line was lying in a heap just a few feet from the car, in the grass. The frayed end sparked and sizzled fiercely. The feeling hit him like a punch.

Tell me his name!

Sam clutched at his stomach with a gasp as the bandaged wounds seemed to explode back to life. The dull ache of the burns blossomed into a fiery wave of pain. Drew's face floated before his eyes, sneering at his helplessness. Sam screwed his eyes shut, but Drew's face wouldn't leave him.

Come on, Sam…it's just a little name…then I'll let you rest for minute…

Sam shivered at the sudden cold. The muscles in his chest tightened painfully. He clutched at his shirt, trying in vain to relieve the pressure. He couldn't breathe.

His arms tingled with numbness…the room was so cold…the extension cord snapped and sizzled in Drew's fist…Drew laughed when he screamed, and mocked him when he cried…

Pain crashed over him like a tide when the wires touched him…his nerve endings were on fire…the smell of ozone and burning flesh assaulted his senses…

Sam heard voices behind him, but he couldn't turn around, all he could see was the cabin. He felt something hard and unforgiving slam into his knees and he doubled over. He saw stars behind his eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean heard Sam gasp, and looked up in time to see Sam collapse to the pavement. He practically bounded over the car towards his brother.

"Sam!"

Sam couldn't answer, he was hyperventilating. Dean took him by the shoulders and tried to calm him down.

"Sammy…hey, it's alright…just breathe, man…Sam!"

Dean wasn't sure what to do…he didn't know what had spurred Sam's apparent panic attack. Sarah, looking over Sam's shoulder in the direction he'd been looking, connected the dots faster than Dean.

"It's the power line…let's get him back in the house."

It took both of them to wrestle Sam's struggling form into the house. They deposited him on the sofa lying down and Sarah went to get water. Sam's breathing was evening out, but his eyes were still clamped shut, his arms were wrapped protectively around his stomach. He was rocking himself slowly. Dean placed his hands on either side of Sam head.

"Sam? Can you hear me?" he asked urgently. If Sam didn't snap out of it soon, they'd have to get him to a hospital. That was something none of them wanted. "Sammy…it's me…can you open your eyes?"

Sam shook his head violently, it was the first response he'd given since falling over outside. Dean ran a hand through Sam's hair, trying to get through to him.

"It's okay…we're in Sarah's house…you're okay…talk to me, man…let me know you're in there."

Sam's breathing finally slowed, and he gradually opened his eyes, like he was afraid of what he might see. His eyes darted around suspiciously, and only after a few scans of the room did he meet Dean's gaze.

"Are…are we…where are we?"

Sam sounded so young in that moment that Dean had to calm himself before answering.

"At Sarah's place. It's just us, Sammy, us and Sarah. We're alone."

With some difficulty, Sam managed to raise himself into a sitting position. Dean steadied him as he rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his face into his hands. Dean cursed himself for not connecting the imagery of the live electrical wire sooner.

Sam had had a handful of panic attacks since arriving in New Paltz. Certain sounds, certain combinations of words, and sudden movements all could trigger the memories of his captivity. The other night Sarah had grabbed his wrist during a scary movie without thinking, and they'd almost had to sedate him. Thankfully, they'd been at the house and away from prying eyes.

Well, either nightmares or panic attacks, take your pick….

Dean sat beside Sam on the sofa and draped a nearby blanket over the shivering form. He gently rubbed circles into Sam's back and waited for the attack to pass. Sam took a shaky breath and drew the blanket tighter. A light groan escaped his lips and he glanced over at Dean in confusion. Sometimes he wouldn't remember being moved during an attack.

"Another flashback," Dean said by way of explanation. Sam nodded with a frown.

"I really hoped I was over the worst of those," he looked around slowly, holding his head with one hand to ward off the inevitable headache, "Did Sarah…?"

"She's fine. Stop worrying about us…. She went to get you some water," Dean said flatly, "Wanna talk about it?"

Sam sighed, "I honestly don't remember much. I was about to get in the car…then I saw the wire…and I thought I was back in that cabin again…I don't remember too many details."

Dean looked at him suspiciously, Sam noticed, "I swear, Dean. I really don't remember much."

Sam seemed to be telling the truth, so Dean let it drop. Sarah stuck her head in through the doorway and asked if they needed any headache medicine. Dean called back with an affirmative. Sam's flashbacks were often followed by severe headaches. Dean wondered if that was normal, or if it had something to do with Sam's "Shining."

"Hey, why don't you just crash for a while? We can go out later," Dean suggested, pushing Sam gently back towards the cushions. Sarah arrived back with the medicine and water and sat on the other side of Sam.

"Here. Are you okay, Sam?" she asked.

Sam took the offered pills and water, and shrugged, "Yeah…I think. Look, I think Dean's got the right idea…I'm just gonna crash for a while. You don't mind, do you?"

"We can go out later, don't worry about it. I'm going to get someone out here to remove those wires, though, before we go anywhere. Why don't you lie down here on the sofa?"

Sarah left the room after Sam was situated, intent on getting the debris removed from the yard. Dean stayed with Sam, trying to get him relaxed. Sam frowned unhappily.

"I hate this Dean…I thought I was moving on," he said quietly.

"You're doing alot better than last week, Sammy. It's getting better."

Sam didn't seem comforted by that, so Dean tried a different tactic.

"Hey…you get some rest, and later on you can take Sarah out for a nice dinner and forget this ever happened."

Sam perked up at that, and looked at Dean ruefully, "Maybe…but, dude…can you hang a little further back this time. Maybe stay here? I know you're worried, but I think I want to go this one alone, okay?"

Dean was dumbfounded…he was certain Sam hadn't seen him.

"I never...how did you know?"

Sam scoffed at him, "Please…I'm going through a rough time, but I'm not stupid, you know."

Dean pursed his lips, "I knew having a psychic brother was going to suck someday…."

"Dean…."

"Okay, okay…just promise you'll call before and after dinner?"

Sam laughed softly, "Jesus, Dean…overprotect much?"

"Fine. Don't call. You need space, you got it. Just be careful."

"I will. Thank you."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean sat impatiently on the oversized recliner in Sarah's den. It was after 11:00, and the lovebirds weren't back yet. If he was honest with himself, he would admit to being worried. It was hard to let Sammy out on his own after two weeks of knowing his every move. Dean remembered a similar feeling when Sammy went on his first date in high school. Dad would probably find it funny that Dean was experiencing the same unease now, nearly a decade later.

Sam's fine. He's a grown up. He's out in public. Everything will be fine.

Dean shook his head, he sounded like some out of control den mother. His thoughts drifted to the hotel and the attack---

Stop. That was six-to-one…and he still made a decent fight of it. He can take care of himself. Just sit here and watch TV. They'll be back whenever they want and then---

The front door opened.

Oh, thank God.

Dean cleared his throat, "So, how'd dinner go?"

"Um…well, we ate at that open air restaurant on the other side of town…the one you told us about. Nice place…." Sam fidgeted and looked at Sarah who seemed equally uneasy.

Dean watched the two worry and his mind immediately went to the worst possible scenario.

"What? Why are--- What happened?"

They both looked at him and spoke at the same time.

"It sucked."

Dean's mouth fell open, "Oh…well. Sorry. My bad. Well, um…what'd you do?"

Sam beamed, "We ate at this pancake house two blocks over."

Sarah snuggled in closer to Sam, "Which was alot better food, by the way."

"Ah…well, it worked out then," Dean offered amicably.

"Yes," Sarah replied, "and now, if you boys will excuse me…I have to get out of these shoes."

As she walked out, Dean moved quietly to his brother's side and patted him on the shoulder, "Good job, Sammy. Couldn't have done better…."

Sam looked at him with confusion etched into his features, "What?"

"You passed, buddy!" Dean beamed, "the old Bad Restaurant Pick test. You passed with flying colors! And picked a better one!"

Sam sputtered for a minute, "You--- You picked that place on purpose?"

Dean gave Sam a pitying look and scoffed, "Dude, you don't have as successful a dating record as I do without knowing how to pick a good place to eat on sight."

"This…this was a test?" when Dean nodded, Sam threw his hands up, "What--- What if I'd screwed it all up?"

"Please, you're my brother, you have amazing girl-wooing ability…it's hereditary. But, don't worry, it's over and you did just fine."

Dean would never know what Sam was about to say because Sarah picked that exact moment to re-enter the room and take a spot close to Sam.

"Listen, Sam," she spoke softly, "I've been thinking…you had a pretty rough morning…you probably shouldn't be alone. Why, um, why don't you stay with me in my room tonight?"

Dean felt his eyebrows shoot up at that, he glanced at Sam, who was looking about as stunned as Dean felt.

Sarah didn't give him a chance to answer; she just looked at Dean, offered a goodnight, and left the room. Dean turned to Sam in awe.

"Dude…she's awesome!"

Sam shot him a look, "I…I don't think this is such a good idea…."

"What? Are you insane? This is a fantastic idea, Sam!"

"But, Dean…what if I freak out again like this morning? I mean, what if---"

"Sammy. She's been helping me play nurse all week. She's totally into you, and she obviously doesn't mind…so if she wants to play doctor now, I say let her."

Sam glared, "That's lewd, even for you."

Dean responded by all but dragging Sam down the hall, "Enough of your big college words, Sammy. It's go time." He stopped when they reached Sarah's closed door. He nodded Sam on with a grin. Much to his delight, Sam apparently gave in, and slowly entered the room. The door closed with a CLICK.

Dean leaned back against the wall, congratulating himself on a matchmaking well done. He was beat. His bed seemed to beckon to him from across the hall. Taking care of Sam and his love-life is a full time job….

Then why am I still standing here?

It took Dean a moment to realize why he hadn't moved yet, he was debating with himself; in the end, his lesser big brotherly instincts won out. About ten minutes after Sam had entered, when the normal talking had gradually softened to hushed whispers, Dean moved to Sarah's door.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

"Hey, Sam?"

A second and some scuffing sounds later, Sam opened the door, his button down shirt hanging open.

"Yeah?" Sam asked…just a hint of impatience in his voice.

"I was thinking about making breakfast for you two tomorrow. Does Sarah like waffles?"

Sam blinked at him for a moment, as if Dean had just spoken nonsense, "Um, it's okay, Dean, really. You've done enough."

"You sure? It's no problem, man."

"I'm sure."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Dean." Sam closed the door.

A moment went by; Dean struggled with his mouth, trying to subdue the grin that was dying to form.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

"Hey, Sam?"

A moment, more scuffing, and what sounded distinctly like a sigh later, and Sam reappeared in the door, his shirt now completely off and held rather comically in front of his bare chest, blocking Dean's view.

"What?" he sounded a tad irritated this time.

Dean struggled with his rebellious facial expressions, "Hey, I was just wondering…Sarah's has that thing tomorrow night…you want to check out those missing kids in Poughkeepsie?"

Sam looked exasperated, but his voice was congenial when he spoke, "Yeah, sure, man. I'll get the articles out in the morning and we'll take a look."

"Great!"

"Goodnight, Dean."

The door closed again. Another few moments went by.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

"Hey, Sam?"

A muffled curse and some scuffling and the door snapped open, this time only Sam's head poking out.

"What?" he definitely sounded irritated this time.

Dean smiled as if nothing was wrong, "Sorry, I forgot to tell Sarah goodnight."

"Goodnight, Dean!" Sarah's equally irritable voice called from inside the room.

Sam placed a decidedly forced looking smile on his face and retreated into the room. The door closed, and Dean didn't bother keeping his grin in check anymore.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

"Hey, Sam?"

THE END