"Sounds like ghost sickness to me," Bobby said.

"What's that?" Sam asked. He was surprised by the fact that there was something he hadn't heard of yet. He felt like he had been hunting forever.

"It's a virus that a ghost infects someone with. They get scared of everything and 48 hours later, they turn into what they are most afraid of."

"So, if we kill the ghost, will it stop the sickness?"

"No, there's no cure once you're infected. The good news is that the ghost can only infect one person. The bad news is that person can infect others."

"How?" Sam asked, nervously.

"Bodily fluids," Bobby answered.

"So, if the pigeons defecate on someone?" Sam asked.

Dean could only hear Sam's side of the conversation, but he perked up at that. Sam was clearly concerned about the fact that the birds pooped on him.

"Yeah, you'll have to kill the pigeons," Bobby said.

"They already went on Dean," Sam said.

Bobby sighed. "I'll do some more looking, but I don't know of a cure. In the meantime, kill those pigeons. Just killing one ought to kill the whole flock."

"OK," Sam said. He hung up and filled Dean in.

"Let's go kill a pigeon," Sam said and handed Dean a gun.

"I'm not carrying that," Dean protested.

"Why not?" Sam asked, looking at the gun. It was Dean's, one of his favorites.

"It might go off," Dean said, picturing himself accidentally blowing his head off.

"I think it's starting," Sam sighed. He took his gun and walked off towards the park. Luckily the pigeons were back. He took aim and shot one. The whole flock fell down dead.

Sam headed back towards Dean. He saw that he was cowering up against the Impala. "What's wrong?" Sam asked, not seeing anything that would cause this fear.

"There was a tiger. It scuttled into the bushes, but it's there stalking me."

"A tiger?" Sam asked. They were in Colorado, not India.

Dean nodded vigorously. Sam bent down towards the bush. "No, Sammy," Dean yelled, but didn't go forward to shield him. If Sam was stupid enough to tangle with a tiger, that was his problem. Sam reached his arm into the bush and Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to watch Sam's arm get mauled.

Sam produced a small tiger cat. "Is this your tiger?" Sam asked. "It's too cute to maul you." As he turned back to look at Dean, he saw him close to a mile away, running. If it weren't for the dire consequences, this would be funny, Sam thought.

Dean had gone back to the hotel room. Actually he had gotten another room. Their room was on the second floor, and he was afraid of what would happen if he fell out of the window. There was a knock at the door. He cautiously opened it.

"Dad?" Dean asked, confused. His father was a ghost. That was pretty scary. He backed away.

"Dean, I can't believe what you did in Hell," John said and punched him.

"No, Dad," Dean protested.

"I raised you better than that. How could you do it?"

"I couldn't help it. I held out for thirty years," Dean defended himself.

"There was a reason I always favored Sammy over you," John said as he continued beating Dean.

"Hey!" Sam yelled from the door. "Dean, why are you on the floor?" His father disappeared.

"I think I was hallucinating," Dean said as he carefully got up. The good thing about a hallucination, he discovered, was that a beating carried no aftereffects.

"What did you hallucinate?" Sam asked.

Dean just shrugged. If he could help it, he would never admit to Sam that he remembered Hell. He would definitely not tell him what he did down there. Sam would hate him.

Sam's phone rang. "Hey, Bobby," he greeted.

"I found a cure," Bobby said.

"That's great," Sam exulted. "What is it?"

"You have to wait until he turns into what he most fears and then you have to make him drink a glass of holy water."

"We can't do it before he changes?" Sam asked. With all the stuff that Dean knew about, he could turn into anything. Might be hard to get a glass of holy water down him. And what if he turned into a demon? The cure might about kill him.

"You can try it," Bobby said, but I'm pretty sure you have to wait until he turns."

"Is there a time limit after he turns?" Sam asked. Dean, in whatever form he took, might run away from him, or maybe he would run away in fear before he turned and Sam would have to find him. He hoped time was not of the essence, just to be safe.

"It has to be within 24 hours of him changing. After that, it will be too late," Bobby said.

"Thanks, Bobby."

Again, Sam relayed all of the information to Dean. "Let's have some holy water now," Dean said, hoping maybe Bobby had his info wrong. If nothing else, it couldn't hurt.

"OK," Sam agreed and went into the bathroom to bless some water. Dean drank a glass and looked at his watch.

"How much longer to wait?" he asked.

"Two hours," Sam said.

Dean didn't think the holy water worked. He still felt afraid. "Sam, look out!" he yelled.

Sam turned around and didn't see anything. "What?" he asked.

"Vampire."

Dean was waving a machete around the room. Sam figured it would probably be a good idea to get it away from him before he hurt himself.

Sam approached him. "Dean," he said. Dean swung the machete towards him. Sam jumped back. He must be hallucinating again. "Dean," he said, again, trying to get his attention.

Dean looked like he was attacking invisible vampires in his mind. Suddenly, he stopped. "Let him go," he growled, low.

Let who go? Sam wondered. What was going on in Dean's mind?

"You don't want to drink his blood. It's tainted."

OK, that was obviously about him.

"OK, OK," Dean said in a worried tone and put his machete down and raised his hands. Sam slowly approached, bent down and picked up the machete. He was relieved that Dean didn't have it any more. Hallucinations and weapons definitely didn't mix.

Suddenly, Dean laid down and spread his hands out. "No, Alistair, please," he begged.

"Who's Alistair?" Sam asked.

Instead of answering, Dean starting screaming. Sam didn't like the sound of that for two reasons. First of all, he didn't like hearing Dean in so much pain even if it wasn't real. And second of all, he was being awfully loud. Someone was probably going to call the cops soon.

He decided he could fix both problems at once. He walked up to Dean and hit him on the head. Dean lost consciousness, ending the screaming. Sam could only hope whatever was happening wouldn't continue in his sleep. He checked his watch. A half hour until Dean would change into God only knew what.

Sam got a glass of holy water. He wondered what kind of creature he would end up having to force it down. Vampire, demon? Dean had an especial hatred of witches, "always spewing out bodily fluids." That would probably be the best case scenario of anything Sam could think of.

He sat back and watched the minutes tick by. Dean didn't seem to be in any pain as he slept, so that was good.

It was time.

Sam watched as Dean changed. He couldn't believe what he changed in to. It wasn't anything that had gone through his head.