Prologue

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Sam brought up the knife to Dean's throat. "We all knew this time was comming Dean."
"Sammy, don't do this. We don't need to do what they want."
"I'm not Sammy anymore."
"Sammy, please. No... please. SAMMY!!!!!"
* * *
Dean jerked up from the bed, and instantly slammed back down at the searing pain in his chest. "Just a dream... just a dream."
"'Mornin' princess."
"Bobby. What am I doing here?"
"You passed out on the last hunt, werewolf attack. Sammy brought you here, and left to kill it."
"Really?"
"Yep, and you're gonna be out for a few months."
"What do you mean?" Dean groaned, his chest throbbing again.
"Well," Bobby leaned back into his chair, " you got a damn near fatal chest wound, and now, we gotta fix you up."
"But... I gotta get out there, and help Sammy."
"Alright you idjit, you're not going anywhere." Bobby placed a nearby gun on his lap.
"Seriously Bobby?"
"Just insurance that you don't leave."
"Alright Bobby, but I'll be fine tomorrow."
"No you wont. It's gonna take a few months for you to get back to normal, so just lie down, relax, and enjoy the vacation."
Dean grunted in a form of acknowledgement, and shifted in the bed. There's no way I'm taking a vacation and let Sammy have all the fun.

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