Author's Notes: So Sam's visions and powers are back making him decidedly unstable. Meant to be post Season 6 events, but could be read anywhere along Season 5 or so.

Summary: Dean's always been able to read Sam when no one else could. Unstable!Powers!Sam

New Puzzles

"If it's something that old, I don't think these books are gonna help." Bobby sighed. "Something like this…old magic. Don't think it's more powerful than angels, but it's definatetly on another level. Cas might not even be able to help with this one."

Dean groaned. This was their only viable lead so far.

"Dean…"

Dean turned at the whisper to see Sam clinging weakly to the doorframe. Taking short breaths, he looked at Dean from bruised eyes.

"Hey…" the older brother moved quickly to Sam's side. "You shouldn't be up. You coulda called if you needed-"

Sam shook his head sharply, the way a child would, and the quick rush seemed too much for him. Dean tried to guide him over to a chair before he collapsed, but it was too quick and his little brother still had a good ten pounds of muscle over him. Dean settled for helping Sam sit on the floor.

"Whoa, okay. I gotcha, I gotcha."

Sam pressed one hand to his forehead like he had a massive headache. He scrunched up his eyes and Dean cursed softly. 'Not now…'

Sam's other hand grabbed Dean's sleeve harshly and pulled at him.

"Not the state…"

Dean nodded absently, a placating gesture.

"Okay, Sam. I got it." Dean turned to Bobby, about to ask the hovering older man for some water, but more low words came from his brother.

"The case…this one-" Sam kept his eyes on the floor and Dean saw his fingers skitter against the wood, pressing so hard that his nail bent back. He was quick to still his brother's hands. Sam was keeping himself present. It was hard on him, and painful, and Dean immediately changed his tone. This was important.

"What is it, Sam?"

"Not…angels, but Cas will want to know. Weapons. We need help." Hazel eyes stared hard into the floor. "A lifetime ago…she'll know. Not the state, Dean, remember?"

Dean forced Sam to meet his gaze and started in on another round of his least favorite new game; puzzle out what the hell Sam was saying. It always helped if he could read his brother's face.

"You got any idea, Dean?"

Bobby spoke up from behind them and Dean sagged in gratitude as the man pressed a bottle of water into his hand. They never had to ask with Bobby.

Dean worked the cap off the bottle and wrapped Sam's hand around it, shaking his head.

"I don't know…I'm not getting it." Dean had gotten pretty good at this game and he hated it. The fact that his brother's mind was such a disaster, it tore at him. "Not a state…" he repeated softly, still trying to get Sam to grasp the water. "Come on, Sammy." He encouraged.

Slowly, Sam seemed to respond as long fingers molded around the plastic. Dean watched a fond smile form on Sam's face.

"Lifetimes and worlds and wars ago…" the smile turned bittersweet. "We were different people then…"

The sentence itself shouldn't make any more sense than that, but it triggered something and Dean suddenly got it. He still didn't know how. It was something visceral, just hard-wired into him as an older brother that enabled him to piece together the fragments Sam gave him.

"Missouri. You mean Missouri, right? She can help?" Dean huffed out a laugh. "Good. Good, Sammy."

Sam smiled, finally lifting the water to his dry lips.