AN: For Morgan and Val, and every other Sammy girl out there who needs a little WHUMP in their lives.

Alternate scen for Wishful Thinking

Major thanks to Morgan for betaing!!

"Because that's life, Wes."

As far as last words go he can imagine worse. At least he had last words this time, not like last time, but if he had known they were last words he would have made them better.

As it is he doesn't remember hitting the ground. Doesn't remember anything. His life doesn't flash before his eyes, he doesn't wish to be with Dean one last time, doesn't have a long monologue as he falls to the ground. That's not life, but this is death.

_-_-_

Dean finally shakes the kid. At least the Todd hadn't wished for super speed to go along with his super strength, thank Heaven for small favors. Of course running from a second grader—a small second grader at that—is not one of Dean's proudest moments. Of course thanks to a certain ghost sickness it's not his lowest moment, either.

He goes to find Sam, and get rid of the coin once and for all. The first thing he sees is the Impala. The first thing he smells is burning rubber. The second thing he sees is Sam, and then he doesn't see anything at all.

Dean can barely hear Wesley arguing with Hope next to the well, but he's more concerned with what he doesn't hear.

Before he knows it Sam is in his arms, cradled to his chest like Cold Oak. But it can't be like Cold Oak. Not again. Dean isn't sure he has a soul to trade anymore.

"Sam." The head against his shoulder is limp, flopping bonelessly as Dean shakes him. There is no pulse when he checks. Dean can't be back here again. After everything they went through he can't lose Sam again, not when he just has him back. Not over some stupid wish.

The wish! It comes to him in a desperate flash. The wishes go bad, but what if things are as bad as they can get? Nothing is worse than losing Sam. Not even Hell.

Dean struggles to stand with Sam, because he's not leaving him. Not even for a moment. Sam isn't as heavy as he should be. Can the soul have weight? The older shuffles toward the door. If Audrey can wish her bear to life, he can wish his brother back into it.

They came there to stop the wishing, but not at this cost. The whole dang town can burn itself to the ground for all he cares.

He feels the change instantly. Another heart beats beside his, the head lifts off his shoulder, and his knees give out taking them both down. Sam sits up, shaking his shoulder. He looks concerned. Dean could have laughed.

"Dean are you ok?" the younger hunter asks. Dean pulls himself up, but doesn't fully untangle himself from Sam. He can't help staring at him. It's never that easy. Winchesters are never that lucky. He hadn't even made the wish yet.

Hope walks by them then, a different girl from the one they saw before. The curse is broken—Dean doesn't know how. He doesn't care, either. Sam is staring at him in confusion and it's the best thing he has ever seen. He leans forward and hugs his younger brother. Sam doesn't pull away. He holds onto him until the desperation settles before he pulls back.

"Dean?" So much weight is wrapped up in that one word, but Dean can't bring himself to face it right now. The curse is broken, and the world has righted itself. The smell of burning rubber fills the air again and the only words he can form coherently is this:

"Dude, you have no luck with shoes."