A/N: So this is it guys! The last chapter *dramatic tear roll*

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Sam dreamed he was on a boat. The boat was rocking back and forth about to be eaten by a giant fish. He was running around his boat throwing pomegranates at

the fish. "Go away!" He screamed. The fish gulped open his mouth and gurgled something out. The fish was coming closer and closer till the mouth swallowed his

boat. Sam screamed as he disappeared down into the deep gullet of the fish. It got darker and smeller the further down he and the boat went. Suddenly his boat

slammed into the side of the fish's throat with an almighty sqluesh. The sides of the throat heaved and with a swirling of mucky water Sam was hurdled back into the

daylight. It was getting brighter and brighter as Sam was thrown out of the fish's mouth, dream, and back into the waking world. The rocking of the boat came from

him being shaken back and forth. Dimly he was aware of someone saying something.

"Mr. Winchester. Mr. Winchester you have to get up. Oh, please get up. I can't tell if you are awake or not with that heartbeat of yours." Sam blinked his eyes a few

times before his brain put the images together and the pictures were sent to a different part of it for him to gather what it was going on. A young teen was kneeling in

front of him. His brown eyes were pinched together and his black eyebrows were drawn together like one giant caterpillar. Sam felt the heavy pressure of the teen's

hands on the uninjured part of his arms and he realized that he had been the one shaking him.

"Who r'you?" Sam slurred together refusing to rub the griminess from eyes as that would only aggravate his wounds.

"Oh, good you are not dead. I'm part of the werewolf pack. Your brother enlisted our help to find you."

"Dean? Asked help from werewolves?" For some reason that sentence did not make sense to Sam. Maybe it was from Dean's extreme hatred for any supernatural

creature. Except for when it suited him.

"Yeah, we found it hard that a hunter would be asking help from us. Argents I get since we have a standing treaty with them. But you guys I do not get. Anyway we

need to get you out of here before the lechusa gets back here." The kid said. Sam thought his name was Scott. He watched him grab onto a rope and tie it around a

rock.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked struggling to get up. He let his rock weapon fall down to the ground with a clatter. Scott gave him a look.

"Helping you get out of here what does it look like? If you think you can climb out of here with those wounds you are either very stupid or a very good free rock

climber." Scott snarked. Sam shook his head like a wet sheepdog. "Why then. I mean you could leave me here and say I died. It wouldn't be hard to pull off. By the

time Dean could climb down here I'm sure I will actually be died." Sam spoke quietly not able to conjure the energy to speak louder.

"What kind of person do you think I am?" Scott glared at him and Sam immediately tried to back track realizing that he had made a mistake.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to offend you it's just that well- I mean- ah fuck." Sam groaned and dropped his head into his hands. Scott snorted and yanked on the rope

tying a knot in it. "Just come here." Sam shuffled over to the teen and stood waiting for instructions. Scott looped the end of the rope into a large hole and Sam had

the brief thought that it looked like a hangman's noose, but bigger.

"Okay," started Scott, "You are going to sit in the lope and then I am going to lower you down to the ground. From there you should have enough distance to jump

down the rest of the way without killing or injuring yourself. Though just don't hit your shoulders otherwise you will bleed out before we can get you some serious

help. We might actually get to take someone to the hospital this time!" He sounded way too excited for that.

"This time?" Sam questioned. Scott grinned and said. "In you go." Sam picked the lope up and brought it over his head winching at the pull that occurred in his

shoulders. Scott nodded in approval.

"Okay now start walking backwards towards the edge of the cliff." Sam felt panic flash through his mind.

"Backwards?"

"If this works you'll just sit on the lope and I can lower you down without putting stress on your shoulders."

"If this works? What if you cannot lower me down?" Sam knew he was starting to panic as he felt his heart to race.

"Dude, I'm a werewolf." As if that was reassuring Sam grumbled in his head. Slowly he walked towards the edge his head turned to see where he was going so he did

not just walk over the edge and slip from his noose that reminded him of death, but was actually his life line. Irony there. He was sure that if was a character book

the author would either be cackling madly at what would be happening next or debating it still. His mind snapped back to attention as he felt the edge of his foot meet

the edge. Slowly he brought his foo to the outside and braced with his legs so that his butt was pressing against the rope. Sam had a brief nightmare of the rope

snapping and him pin-willing to his death below. Scott's voice brought him back with a soft spoken. "Good. Good. Now just go carefully down inch by inch." Slowly

Sam moved his feet down still bracing against the cliff till he was all the past the opening and staring at the cliff wall. It was very boring to be truthful. Scott yelled

down to him. "Now, take your feet off the cliff and I am going to start lowering you down." Hesitantly he stopped bracing his legs and slowly he swung to cliff face. He

braced for impact and the most likely jarring pain it would bring. But he twisted in the air and his back just bumped lightly against the cliff face. He felt himself start to

be lowered and he looked down to see the ground steadily approaching. He tried not to grin at the fact. The ground kept getting closer and closer till the rope finally

stopped three maybe four feet from the ground. He looked up to see Scott standing at the very edge of the cliff the rope barely in his hands. Sam looked down at the

ground and sighed. Some day he would actually have a normal life even he was bored to death doing it. He wiggled closer and so that he was barely balancing on the

rope. Taking a deep breath and gathering up his courage he fell from the safety of his rope. Hitting the ground his knees buckled beneath him and his butt hit the

ground. Sitting there he had the sound thought that they had actually did it. Looking up with a grin on his face he let out a laugh. Scott grabbed onto the rope and slid

all the way down. He landed next to Sam on the ground and shook his hands out with a grimace on his face. The quick flapping barely gave Sam enough to see the

red hands slowly fade back to their dark colour. Envy flashed through him, but he quickly stamped it down with the reminder that his healing powers came with a

darker, furrier downside too. Scott helped him to his feet and Sam leaned on him for support finding that most of his energy was quickly draining and he realized that

his adrenaline was fading.

"We have to find the others. They should be here by now and we have to get you to the hospital before you die from blood loss or go into shock. None of which I want

to deal with." Scott grumbled. Sam just made a noise and closed his eyes. He was becoming sleepy again.

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"Sam! Sammmy! Come on baby bro wake up." Sam groaned and rolled his head to the side when he felt something pat it.

"There you go buddy wakey wakey eggs and bacon. We have to get out of here while that Witch Bird is distracted." Sam opened his eyes to see Dean above him. His

brother had dirt, grime, sweat, and several cuts littering his face. He heard a screech from behind his shoulder and someone yell something out along with a blast

from a shot gun. "Goddammit! Scott Erica make that thing stay in one place!"

"We are trying Stiles!" A female yelled back. Another blast of gunfire along with an angry screech from the bird. "Let's go." Dean said and hauled him to his feet. Sam

could now see the chaos that was going on the worn path behind them. One teen was laying on the ground with blood splattered all over his chest while the dark

skinned teen was kneeling beside him hands holding him down as he jerked up and down. The tan skinned man and a pale freckled teenager both stood with guns to

their shoulders aimed at the ugly creature from before. Two teens darted below it jumping up at it trying to scratch it with their claws, but the creature kept managing

to remain just out of reach of them. They were clearly struggling and Sam turned and looked at Dean. "Why aren't you helping them Dean?" Dean got an offended

look on his face.

"You are my brother." Was all he said.

"They helped us!" Sam countered.

"They are werewolves!"

"They are still kids! They gave up their normal lives for this. Don't you wish we could have had a normal life?" Sam spoke angrily. Dean sighed, looked back at the

group as the pale teen shoot again, but missed. The dark man took a shot just as the blonde girl leaped into the air. Bullet and girl meet in the air and she fell to the

ground with a shriek. "Erica!" The dark teen yelled. But she waved her hand at him her other one grasping her stomach and got back to her feet. "Help them Dean.

Please." Sam sighed. Dean looked at him and then back at them. He hung his head and sighed. Pulling his gun out of his jacket Dean stood up. He took his stance

and took careful aim and fired. Dean's aim was true and the hit the bird square in its chest and it feel with a thump to the ground. The silence was deafening till Scott

said. "It's dead. We've won."

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Several days, many bandages, tons of unanswerable questions, a good amount of drugs, and one pseudonym later Dean and Sam were more than ready to hit the

road once again. The werewolf pack were either kind enough to say goodbye or just wanted to make sure that they were actually to make sure they were actually

leaving. Sam clasped hands with Scott and both gave each other a pat on the back. Dean stood by his side of the impala just giving nods at everyone. "You need

anything you just call okay?" Sam asked. Scott grinned and Stiles flashed them Dad's journal that Sam had given them when he saw all their scattered books. "I

think we are covered."

"Call anyway. I think Dean needs reminding sometimes that just because we haunt evil things doesn't mean that they all are evil." Sam said. Derek spoke with a

quirk to his lips.

"I guess you could say we aren't what we seem."

"No I guess this time things weren't what they seemed." Sam waved good bye one last time a got into the impala. Slamming the door shut he looked over his brother

who passed him something printed off.

"We are going here because I think I do remember saying when we picked this stupid case no witches. This time I know that it is not a witch." Sam flipped through it

and just nodded. Dean roared off onto their next stop and Sam settled in for the ride. Despite what he said before he knew he could never give up this life and

catching site of the shrinking pack in the review mirror he had the thought that neither could they.