Note: This is the long-awaited sequel to "As Seen on TV" (I was probably the only one waiting for it, but that's neither here nor there). I'll be making some references to that story, but you can probably catch on without having read it if you really don't want to.

I don't know where the writers of the show are going with Sam's "abilities," but I'm keeping the vision thing around for this story. So I guess that means it's set pre- season 3.

Also, here's the usual disclaimer: I don't own anything that's worth money, especially not ANY of the characters I'm using here.

ENJOY!

----------------------

"It feels so good to get that cast off,"Dean Winchester said with a wide smile as he and his brother entered their motel room. "It's still a bit sore and rubbery, but it's infinitely better." He was stopped in his ramblings by a hand on his forehead. "Dude, what gives?" he growled, pushing Sam away from him and glaring.

"You just used the word 'infinitely' in a sentence," Sam snarked back. "Clearly you're sick."

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped onto his back on his bed. "Anyway," he went on, refusing to let his little brother spoil his good mood, "I'm glad we put that whole experience behind us."

"Says you," Sam griped. "Bobby still thinks I was completely drunk . . . or stoned."

"I can't believe you told him."

"We were being attacked by villains from horror movies and you were unconscious! What was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I don't know – kill the bad guys?"

Sam huffed characteristically and sat down on the bed closest to the door. "Which I eventually did. And you and Bobby ended up not being any help at all."

"Are you kidding? I played the distraction for a long time. Broken ankle, remember?"

"I was sliced up and had a concussion."

"So was I."

"Yeah, well I –"

"It's not a contest , Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes. "At least it's all behind us."

Dean looked sharply at his brother. "Why would you say that? Haven't you ever heard of a jinx?"

The younger hunter refrained from answering, and instead flipped open his laptop. "So we had a nice long break while recovering from the last hunt," he announced unnecessarily, more to change the subject than for any real conversational usefulness. "We should get right back in it."

"Yeah, as soon as we find a hunt, we can –"

"I have one."

Dean's mouth closed slowly, and he raised an eyebrow. "You have one?"

"I've been bored, Dean. What do you think I've been doing the whole time we were here?"

"Oh, I don't know. I kind of thought you might be recuperating, too."

"Recuperating?"

"It's when people relax to heal and –"

"I know what it means," Sam interrupted. "I just can't believe you said it. You've been using words that are generally way outside of your limited vocabulary." He blinked a few times as he felt a sharp pain shoot between his eyes.

"I wasn't aware that you were keeping track of all of the words in my vocabulary," Dean answered without looking over.

"It's just that you normally don't use words like that when you aren't drunk."

"So what's this case you have?"

Sam wrinkled his nose to try to stave off his headache as he explained. "Whenever people pass through a certain road at a certain time of night, they disappear."

Dean waited for more, but it seemed the younger hunter was done for a while. "And?" he prompted.

"And what? They disappear."

"I'm sure there must be more to this story than you're telling me, Sammy."

"It's Sam," came the abrupt reply. "These people drive down this road and then they don't come out. When others go looking for them, they usually find a broken down car and no sign of the people themselves. No blood, no struggle, no nothing. But it's always the same situation."

"Why is this our kind of job? It sounds like people just run away."

Sam shook his head and regretted it instantly as the growing migraine threatened to hit him full force. "What are the odds that their car breaks down in the exact same place, at the same time of night? And they just decide to walk into the woods and never come back?"

Dean pondered for a few minutes, then finally admitted to himself that it would be worth looking into. He was about to open his mouth to say something when Sam continued.

"We should at least try; I mean, we're here to save people from . . ." The young Winchester trailed off, pain coming back and filling his whole head this time.

"From what?" his brother asked, finally sparing a glance at Sam, whose hand had gone to the bridge of his nose as if to press a pounding migraine away. "Sam?" he questioned, instantly alert as he recognised the signs of a vision. He swung himself to his feet and dropped to his knees next to the bed just as the younger hunter gasped and collapsed in a fetal position on the floor.

Waiting was the worst part about these things. Dean sighed and left one hand on Sam's shoulder so the other hunter would subconsciously be aware that he wasn't alone, but in the end there wasn't a thing he could do to help.

"Ow," Sam muttered as he started to come out of the vision. "I hate that."

"What did you see?" Dean asked eagerly.

Sam's eyes fluttered to his brother, where they locked gazes, and then dropped. "You don't want to know," he said finally.

"I don't want to know? How could I not want to know?"

"Because you're just going to get upset."

"I'm not going to get upset, Sam. You know I don't think these visions are your fault."

"You will."

"No I won't. I promise."

Taking a deep breath, Sam looked up again. "It was Michael Myers."

There was a second of silence, almost long enough for Sam to feel relief that his brother wasn't mad, and then Dean exploded. "What?!"

Sam shrugged and began to climb back to his bed.

"It took us forever to get rid of Myers!" Dean snapped. "Couldn't you have dreamed up the return of anyone else? Have a vision about someone else? Hm?"

Suddenly Sam felt an all-too familiar throbbing behind his eyes again. "Why'd you have to say that out loud?" he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile effort to stop the vision from hitting him. He noticed his brother didn't look at him as images, sounds, and people flooded his brain. He managed a soft whimper as darkness closed in and he collapsed bonelessly.

Dean didn't even look over until his peripheral vision caught movement – a large man falling on top of him. Before he could even process that it was his little brother, his reflexes had him twisting out of the way. He managed to realise it was Sam just in time to put his arms out to break his fall. He caught his brother around the torso with one arm, and Sam's head bounced on the ground, causing the elder Winchester to wince in sympathy for him. Sitting on the ground, his gargantuan little brother sprawled across his lap, Dean knew it was going to be a long day.

He never should have gotten out of bed that morning.

And he had a feeling the next few days weren't going to be any better.