Sam knows that he should've noticed it before. He knows he should've seen the change in his brother the moment Dean showed up lurking around his apartment asking him to help find their father. He knows he should've noticed the lightness of his brother's body or the way he seemed to be almost all hard angles, but somehow he didn't and hadn't.

Not at first anyway.

After Jessica's death, it was as though he'd been blindsided. The pain of her loss was all he could feel. All of his thoughts and energies seemed to focus on how he could kill the bastard that took her away from him.

And it wasn't as if he'd ever had to worry about Dean's ability to maintain a healthy weight.

So it wasn't until a good two months to ten weeks after her death that it finally struck him. And it stuck hard. It was also around that time that he finally, even if was only mostly subconciously, became aware of the fact that the visions were something that could be manipulated and changed.

And maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that the fog of grief was finally lessening that his mind allowed him to clearly see the slow, yet steady wasting away of his brother's body.

Yes, Dean had always been in shape. Always on the lean side. He couldn't remember a time when his brother hadn't been. But something had changed between the last time he'd seen him before leaving for college and now as he sits in the passenger seat of the Impala while doing his best to be discrete as he examines him.

And it's as he's watching Dean that the familiar pain of the migraine that acts as a precursor to a vision slowly creeps up on him making it nearly impossible to determine when his waking thoughts become his sleeping mind's foreshadowing of future events.

Even though he can't pinpoint the moment that he goes from awake to dreaming, he knows in his mind and heart when the switch is complete.

And still, the dream is so real and haunting, part of him is eternally thankful that he's not awake.

They've been on the road for a few hours, gearing up for a hunt just north of Peoria, IL in a little town called Bradford, when it suddenly occurs to Sam that he can't quite recall the last time he's seen Dean eat.

His brow furrows more when his gaze shifts from the barren and snow-dusted cornfields outside the Impala's window to the side of Dean's face, taking note of how prominent his cheekbones are.

Now, more often than not, the elder Winchester had always been on the fit side, but as Sam studies his current subject further, he realizes that the twenty-six year old isn't just thin. He's downright skinny.

Sam can feel his heart beating faster as anger slowly starts to course through his veins, and he wants to kick himself for not paying more attention to his older brother. He's somehow managed to block out everything, including Dean.

Ignoring the elder Winchester's rule of not touching the radio unless you're the one driving, Sam turns the volume down, instantly quieting the sounds of AC/DC, and thus, earning Dean's full attention.

"This better be good, Sammy. It was just getting to the good part," Dean states while sending an irritated glance at his little brother.

Trying desperately not to lose his cool, Sam straightens in the seat, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"When was the last time you ate?" He's not going to sugar-coat things, not right now anyway.

Dean lets out an oddly dry chuckle and shakes his head.

"Seriously? You interrupted my music for that? You have way too much time on your hands, little brother. What did they teach you at that college anyway?" Dean mutters, green eyes surrounded by deep gray circles travel between his brother's and the two-lane road in front of them.

"Dean, I'm serious. You look sick. I've never seen you this thin." Sam can't keep his hazel eyes off his brother now. He wants Dean to be uncomfortable. And as he watches the smile slide off his older brother's face, he can see the something darker that replaces it, and he knows he's at least accomplished part of his mission.

"The last time I checked, you were studying to be a lawyer, not a doctor; therefore, your medical opinion means jackshit to me," Dean declares while ignoring the glare he's now on the receiving end of.

"Does everything have to be a joke with you?" Sam can hear his tone becoming cruel as his voice rises, but at the moment, he doesn't care. He hates it when Dean tries to just brush things off rather than deal with them.

"Look, I know you can't be talking, Captain Emo. You barely touch anything I set in front of you, so I don't want to hear it. End of discussion." And with that, he lets his eyes turn back to the bleak horizon.

Sam knows he's asleep, but this dream is somehow as real as anything, and he knows that he can't let the subject drop now. The anger inside of him builds and before he's even aware of it, he's yelling at Dean to pull the car over to the side of the road.

As soon as the still running vehicle is thrown into park, Sam grabs his brother by the shoulders and looks him directly in the eyes as he begs, "Please, man. You've gotta eat. Tell me what's wrong, man. What's going on with you?" He asks as he swears he can feel his brother's shoulders growing even thinner under the palms of his hands.

Dean's head falls over to the side a little as he looks back as his brother, and Sam can't help but notice the unshed tears that sit in Dean's eyes as he swears he can see his brother's face growing thinner as he watches him.

Sam sits and stares in horror as Dean opens his mouth to respond and nothing but a strangled choking sound comes out.

Dean suddenly gasps and grabs at his tummy and Sam is shocked to realize that his brother's belly has gone almost completely hollow underneath his shirt and Dean is grasping at nothing but air where his stomach should be.

"Oh, God. Dean, please!" Sam yells in the cramped confines of the car as Dean becomes a living skeleton.

Sams ears are ringing and tears are clouding his vision, but none of that prevents him from hearing his brother's softly whispered final words.

"You noticed."

Almost instantly, Sam startles awake to the blessed sight of his weary, too thin, yet alive brother and knows that he will do everything and anything possible to prevent his nightmare from becoming a reality.