A/N: NineCrow has asked that I continue this one-shot into a 'verse. I'm giving it a shot. Hope you like it.

Missing Moments 'Verse

"You ready to roll," Dean asked, tossing his duffel into the backseat of the Impala.

Sam felt his pockets. It felt like he was forgetting something, but he didn't know what. Deciding whatever it was couldn't be that important, he shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, good to go."

With one last glance at the motel, Sam popped open the door to the Impala and slid in the seat.

They were headed to Montana. Bobby had called them. A hunter had turned up dead, missing his heart. It was clearly a hunt gone wrong. No doubt a werewolf. The case should be easy enough.

The ride was a long one. It was going to take a full day to get there. Sam slid down as much as he his long legs would allow and tried to make himself comfortable. The music blared as his brother sang along, window open and cool spring breeze sending a chill through Sam.

"You cold?" Dean asked, glancing in his direction.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Like if I said yes, you'd roll it up."

Dean threw back his head and laughed, reaching to turn the music up a bit more. Sam sighed and tried closing his eyes, and that's when it hit him. He could picture it perfectly. His bottles of pills sitting on the nightstand in the motel. That's what he forgotten. How had he been so stupid? What was he going to do? He didn't want to tell Dean. They'd already been driving for six hours and the next full moon was in two days. They needed to get there and get setup in time to stop it.

His stomach sank and he felt sick. What if he had another seizure? He had to keep this from Dean. Maybe when they got into town, he could call and get new ones. That seemed like a great solution—except it was Saturday. The doctor's office was closed. He was just going to have to cross his fingers and hope for the best.

Unable to think of a solution, Sam tried to block the problem from his mind for now. He could make it until Monday. He'd lived without meds in the past. No reason to worry, he told himself. He sighed, settling back in the seat. His eyes fell closed, and he drifted off to sleep to the sound of the Impala's engine.

xXx

A hard smack to the chest woke Sam.

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey," Dean gleefully spoke from beside him.

Sam groaned, every part of him feeling stiff from the long ride. Dean was far too perky after the long drive. He tried to stretch and his back protested painfully. "This sucks," Sam grumbled as he pushed himself out of the car. "We need a bigger car."

Dean scoffed. "Don't blame baby because you're a sasquatch."

Sam shook his head and followed Dean into the motel office. They secured a room and lugged their gear down the walkway to get situated. Dean unlocked the door and it swung open. As far as motel rooms went, this one wasn't too bad Sam noted as he made his way over to the bed to toss his bags down.

Dean was already kicking his boots off and getting undressed. Sam looked at him quizzically.

"What? We need to get started asap. Moon is Monday," Dean said, dropping his pants and kicking them off.

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "Personal space, dude. I'm standing right here."

"Then don't look!" Dean snapped, grabbing his suit pants from the bag.

Sam sighed and grabbed his bag and made his way to the bathroom. He was getting a headache. He had forgotten to take his meds that morning on top of everything else. He wondered if his headache was connected. He got changed and came back out into the room.

Dean was dressed and waiting impatiently. "Ready?"

Sam nodded quickly. "Yeah, I'm good. Let's go."

They made their way down to the police station and got the files, looking over the police notes. Like every other thing out there that police couldn't explain, they'd labeled it as an animal attack. In a way they were kinda right this time, it was an animal, sort of.

It didn't take them long to find a suspect. A teller at the local bank, she had handled each of the previous victim's accounts prior to their deaths. It looked like she was syphoning funds. Once they were dry and of no use, they became her meal at the next full moon.

Dean parked the car across the street from the bank, so they had a good view of the teller through the large glass windows out front. Sam's head was pounding through and it was getting late. It was nearing the time he would normally take his second dose of meds. Even blinking seemed to hurt. He turned his head to get a better view of the bank, but it sent a shot of pain through his head and neck, and he yelped, drawing Dean's immediate attention.

"What was that?" Dean asked, brow pinched, his eyes darting over Sam.

Sam tried to play it off. "What was what?"

"I heard you, Sam. You just yelped like a kicked puppy."

Sam frowned. "No idea. Wasn't me."

Dean studied him. "Uh huh. I doubt that, but okay." He turned back to the bank and resumed watching the teller. "Looks like their closing up shop."

Sam cared. He did, but his head hurt so bad he couldn't think. No longer caring what his brother might think, he reached for the glove box and dug around for the bottle Tylenol. He fumbled with the cap for a moment and then shook some into his hand. He didn't even know how many and he didn't really care. He just wanted the pain to stop.

Suddenly there was a hand on his wrist stopping him from popping the pills into his mouth.

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean's hand was grabbing the pills from him. Sam grimaced as he turned his head and watched Dean as he counted out the pills.

"There are eleven pills here, Sam. Christ. You trying to kill yourself?" Dean snapped, neither of them watching the bank any longer.

"I think I have a migraine." Sam admitted. It wasn't a lie. It was close to one, even if this was from missing his pills. Sam had always been sensitive to medication.

Dean took two of the pills and handed them back to Sam. "Take those."

Sam wondered if he should just fess up and tell Dean that he'd left his meds behind. He knew if he did, he would be in for a speech. "Thanks," Sam said, swallowing the pills dry.

"Yeah, well, next time just tell me this shit. I'm not a complete jerk all the time."

Sam raised his brows and huffed. "That's debatable."

"Bitch, please," Dean said. "I'm as lovable as puppy. How do you think I get all the chicks?"

Sam sighed, painfully turning to look back at the bank. The windows were dark and no one was there. Shit. They'd missed her. If someone else died, it was going to be on Sam.

Dean's hand slammed the steering and he started the car, shifting hard into drive. He peeled out.

"Dean, we'll find her."

Dean looked over at Sam. His face hard lines. "We better."

xXx

Sam lay in bed unable to sleep. They had checked her apartment with no luck, searched around the neighborhood, checked everywhere and anything related to her. It was like she disappeared without a trace. This was all Sam's fault, and both of them knew it. Dean hadn't spoken more than a few curt words since leaving the bank. Sam felt terrible, and to top it off—his head still hurt.

Sam rolled over and winced as pain shot through him. He felt dizzy and there was a metallic taste in his mouth. He knew the feeling all too well. He tried to push himself up, gripping the blankets for traction in his fingers but he felt heavy like some force was holding him down. He needed help. He needed Dean. He tried to talk but his mouth wouldn't work. The words just wouldn't come.

xXx

Dean lay in bed going over what went wrong. He was angry, not so much at Sam, but at himself for getting distracted. His mistake had let the werewolf get away and now she was primed and ready for another kill. They had been through the bank transactions, hoping to find her next target but nothing. It was a dead end. He wondered if maybe she got spooked and headed out of town. They'd find her eventually though. Dean didn't like to lose. The loss sat heavy in his gut though.

Pushing the thoughts of the day's failures from his mind, he rolled over and tried to get to sleep, but something caught his eye. Sam looked wrong. He couldn't place just what was wrong at first, but then he saw it. The tension in Sam, his corded neck and clenched fists. He sprung to his feet, threw off his blankets, and ran to Sam's side. He knew what to do. This was something that he'd prepared for but it didn't make it any less terrifying. He grabbed his shoulder with both hands and pulled his larger brother onto his side. Dean watched in horror unable to help as Sam convulsed. Dean's lungs began to burn and he realized he was holding his breath. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sam's muscles began to relax and his body went lax.

Dean reached down, squeezing his shoulder, trying to rouse him. "Sam, Sammy, Come on, man. Wake up." The logical side of Dean knew that it was just a seizure. Sam was breathing, his heart was beating. It was going to be okay, but it didn't stop his own heart from hammering in his chest and his hands from shaking.

Much to Dean's relief, Sam's eyes began to move rapidly beneath the lids and then fluttered open. Sam licked at his lips for a second before speaking. "Dean?"

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "You scared the shit out of me, man." Dean raked a hand over his face.

"Did I have another seizure?" Sam asked, trying to push himself up.

Dean quickly moved to put a hand on his brother's chest holding him in place. "Just relax for a minute. I'll get your meds. You're bound to get a headache after that."

Panic crossed Sam's face and it didn't go unnoticed by Dean. Dean's eyes tightened and he studied his brother's features. Sam looked nervous. It was the same face he had had as a kid when he got busted by Dad for shoplifting. That didn't make sense though. It wasn't like he had anything to hide. So, what? He had epilepsy. They were handling it. As long as he took his meds, it pretty much controlled. This one must have just slipped through the cracks—a fluke.

"Dean …" Sam started then paused. "There's something I haven't told you."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest and looked, mouth a hard line. Something was coming, Dean just knew it, something he wasn't going to like. "Go on."

"I don't know if this is why I had the seizure tonight, but maybe it has something to do with it."

Dean racked his brain for what Sam could possibly mean. His seizures weren't his fault. They were a health condition. Did Sam really believe something he could do something to make then happen?

"Okay, what are you talking about?"

Sam sighed. "I screwed up, Dean. I thought I could handle. It's my fault she got away. It's my fault this happened tonight." Sam pushed himself up in bed and Dean let him. "I forgot my meds back at the other motel. We were six hours into the drive when I realized and I didn't want to piss you off and make you turn back. If I'd have remembered, none of this would have happened."

Dean drew a slow breath. He couldn't lie and say he wasn't pissed. He livid, but looking at Sam in the bed and having just watched his brother writhe did a lot to quell his anger. Sam should have come to him to first. He was pissed about that. He would have found a clinic to get the meds. It wasn't a big deal. Sam not communicating had made it big deal though. The case was blown but that wasn't foremost in Dean's mind—Sam was. He needed to get Sam his meds asap before anything else happened. He was a ticking time bomb without them.

"Are you pissed?" Sam asked, fiddling with the hem of his tee.

Dean scrubbed his hands over his face. "That's a loaded question. I don't know. Yeah, I'm pissed. You should have come to me. I know I'm a jerk sometimes but really, Sam. I would never put your health at risk."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, so are we good?"

"Yeah, we're good. Just no more hiding shit from me. Christ, Sam, do you know what it does to me to see you like that?"

"I can't imagine."

Dean pointed a finger at Sam. "Don't do this to me again, Sam. Promise."

Sam's eyes snapped to Dean. "Promise. No more secrets."

Dean walked over and grabbed his jeans from his duffel. "Good. I know it's late, but get up. I'm taking you to the hospital. I'm not letting you go back to sleep with no meds."

"Dean—"

"Don't, Sammy. We're going." Dean grabbed Sam's bag and tossed it to him.

This new life wasn't something Dean had ever expected to be living. He'd always watched Sam like a hawk, but that was to keep him safe from what lurked in the shadows. This monster lived inside Sam. It wasn't something Dean could fight for him. He could only do his best from the sidelines. He knew one thing though. The meds were going in his duffel from now on. He wasn't leaving anything up to chance.