A/N: Okay. Sorry about this being so late. I had a lot of things going on. But here is the Sequel to Dean Winchester's Worst Fear. This takes place a few hours after the my last story (DWWF) So I hope you like it.

"So, Dean, you're saying that you dreamt that I went all-out demon and what, killed you?" Sam asked finishing packing up the Impala and slamming the trunk.

"Yeah," Dean answered, "I know, it's crazy, but I just can't get it out of my head. It was just so real."

"But you know it was just a dream," Sam answered confidently but then asked, "Dean, you know I would never hurt you, right?"

When Dean didn't answer right away, Sam continued, feeling slight annoyance at his brother, "Dean I would never do that. I wouldn't hurt you, I couldn't."

"I know you wouldn't do that now, Sammy. But who knows what Yellow Eyes could do to you," Dean glanced lovingly at his little brother. "And dad said…"

"Have you ever, just once thought that Dad could be wrong," Sam answered, raising his voice slightly.

"I'm not gonna fight you," Dean answered, not wanting yet another argument revolving around their dad. Sam and John had always fought, but the man was dead now, couldn't Sam just let him rest in peace! "Did you find a case?"

"Yeah," Sam answered, "only a couple hours away. Some really crazy crap, there has been a middle aged man killed…"

"Well that doesn't sound like a case for us," Dean interjected.

"Let me finish," Sam continued, "cause of death, had a piano dropped on top of him. 'There were little birds flying around his head' says one witness."

"Weird, but not quite our kind of weird," Dean assumed.

"They were cartoon birds," Sam declared. "Then there was a guy who strolled off a five story building, looked down, and then started falling, hitting the ground with a splat and completely flattening himself."

"Okay now you got my interest," Dean stated turning towards Sam with a glint of curiosity. "Are there anymore wild-e coyote deaths?"

"One more," Sam speculated, skimming the website for more important information. "A man got hit with an anvil with ACME inscribed on the side."

"Okay, maybe this is our kind of thing," Dean concluded. "Which exit do I take?"

"This next one," Sam answered, "Lake Shangrila, here we come."

A few hours later…

Dean flashed his badge to an elderly woman who witnessed the piano falling on the man.

"So, ma'am, can you tell me what you saw?" Dean asked the gray haired lady.

"But, young man, I already told the police everything I know," the little old lady stated in a sweet voice.

"I know Mrs…" Dean stuttered.

"Mrs. Gadnud," she answered.

"Mrs. Gadnud, this is just a routine thing. The sooner you answer my question the sooner I'll get out of your hair."

"Fine. I went out to get my mail two mornings ago. After checking my mailbox, I glanced up toward the building because the cutest little bird caught my eye. I am an avid bird watcher, you know. When I returned to my porch swing, I was sorting through my mail. This young man walks by and BAM. A piano falls on him. Then I hear these little birdies singing and flying around the piano. They looked like those birdies that would fly around that poor cat after he tried chasing that poor little mouse."

"That's it?" Dean asked.

"Yes sweetie, that's it. Nothing weird. No other problems that day. Would you like some cookies before you go?" Mrs. Gadnud asked, walking slowly to her kitchen.

"I guess I could have one. Thank you." Dean answered with his sweetest Dean Winchester grin.

Meanwhile…

Sam walked into the surprisingly active morgue. Usually there was no one in these places. The coroner was busy talking to some police officers in uniforms and some guys in rich looking suits.

"Crap," Sam whispered to himself as he silently retreated out of the morgue.

Dean's phone sounds some upbeat classic rock music until he finally picks up.

"Hello," Dean says into the phone.

"Hey Dean," Sam started, "Yeah, I couldn't get into the morgue. There are other FBI agents here."

"Yeah, so," Dean answered. "We still have a job to do, Sam."

"I know, but doesn't that strike you as weird. I mean, usually the FBI doesn't show up for a good week, if they ever show up at all."

"Maybe, they're other hunters or something. I'll call Bobby and have him check on it. Where are you?"

"Outside of the morgue. I'm gonna go to the library across the street to get the low down on some of the history here. You know, cover all the basics."

"Okay. I'll pick you up in a couple hours."

While Dean drove back to the motel, he called Bobby, who answered on the third ring.

"Dean?" Bobby asked instead of saying hello.

"Yeah," Dean answered a little surprised that Bobby knew who was calling. He didn't think that Bobby had caller ID on his home phone. "So Bobby, do you know of any hunters in the vicinity of Lake Shangrila, Wisconsin?"

"Yeah," Bobby answered, "He called about ten minutes ago to ask about you guys. Do you always have to use classic rock band members for your alias?"

"Yes, Bobby, I do. It's fundamental. Now who called you?" Dean answered, driving into the motel parking lot.

"A young hunter named Matt Baker. He called to ask about you and Sam, gave me the aliases, and I told him that you guys were fine and could handle whatever's happening in Lake Shangrila."

"So he should be gone?" Dean asked, grabbing his key to open the door and realizing that the door was already unlocked.

"I wish. But actually, he's probably going to hunt you down and tell you that you need to leave because this is his hunt and he can handle it," Bobby answered, exasperated.

"So he's like insane?" Dean asked.

"Not quite, he's more vengeful than insane. Oh and he really hated your dad, so stay away from him and do not engage in an argument with him."

Dean didn't answer. He was more concerned with his unlocked door, but didn't dare enter until he stopped talking to Bobby.

"I'm gonna call you back in a few minutes," Dean spoke into the phone.

"Dean did you hear me? Do not go near Matt! Dean!" Bobby yelled into the phone as Dean hung up, dropped the phone into his pocket, and pulled out his gun from the back of his waistband. Slowly opening the door, Dean slinked into the motel room.

Thank you for reading. Please review, favorite, follow, if you find my story worthy of your precious computer space :)