A/N: This story was supposed to go in an entirely different direction. After giving this little tidbit away to one of the lovely readers who likes Ren, I was asked not to go in that direction. So after a LOT of thought, I now have the entire story re-mapped and will get it up by chapters as soon as I get them down.

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The brothers looked at one another over her shivering form on the bed. One of them was going to have to strip her down to check for a wound.

"Dean - "

"It's alright, I know what you're thinking. Just get going on how to help her." He was already moving to carefully check her over as he spoke, starting with the still-bleeding gash on her foot. He carefully pried it open to make sure nothing was lodged inside, flinching when she whimpered and twitched. He had seen her take far worse and keep going. That's not a good sign.

Snagging the first-aid kit from where it sat near the wall, he quickly cleared the wound of dirt and debris. Dean knew her accelerated healing would take care of the rest, but he still felt compelled to tape a thick stack of gauze pads over it to absorb the blood that continued to ooze from the wound.

He was not sure why he felt the need to glance over at Sam, making sure he was turned away before exposing her for the wound check. Living in close quarters in cramped motel rooms did not leave much room for modesty. Whatever the reason, Sam apparently shared the impulse - he was seated at the small table with his laptop, his back to the bed.

As Dean started carefully shifting her thin clothing out of the way, he flashed back to the first time they had met, dressing and caring for the horrible wounds she had suffered. They had struggled with how to care for her as she lay fevered and delirious.

Like now.

He had thought they had learned so much about her in the time since then, but they were once again at a loss. She had said her kind were immune to most human illnesses and they had left it at that, content with the seemingly blanket statement. He fervently wished now that they had pursued the conversation. Most is not all - they needed to know what she could fall victim to.

Things I should have known yesterday for $1000 Alex, Dean thought, silently berating himself.

Sam could hear the quiet rustling of clothing and sheets from behind him. He could hear her occasional soft whimpers, could feel the tension radiating off of his brother. He went back over their notes for the hunt, but everything they had found had been based on the lamia's interactions with humans.

He was not really sure how the scenarios would change given that Ren was not entirely human.

Dean cursed softly, but with feeling. Sam resisted the urge to turn his head toward his brother's voice.

"Dean?"

"I found it Sam," his voice was tight, strained, "I am not even sure she would have noticed it when it happened. It's a shallow scratch on her ribs, it barely even broke the skin but I guess it was enough."

Dean looked more closely, realizing the red tinge was more than just trickled blood. "Sam?" His tone snapped Sam's head around to look at where he was crouched beside the bed to get a better look. "It looks...infected? Is that even possible?"

Sam frowned, puzzled, as he moved to get a look. "It shouldn't be, at least from what she's told us and what we found the last time..." he didn't finish the thought. Instead, he knelt next to Dean reaching out as he did to brush his long fingers over the angry looking scratch. She flinched and twitched away, but not before he felt the heat radiating from the wound site. She was feverish, but that spot felt even moreso.

"What the hell is going on Sam?"

Sam knew the anger in his brother's voice was not directed at him, was not even anger at all. Dean was worried. Sam stood, moving back to the laptop as he spoke, "I don't know, but we're going to find out. We'll fix this Dean."

Dean growled. Sam ignored it, focusing instead on the screen in front of him.

They would fix this. Somehow.

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Dean sat gently on the edge of the bed, deftly replacing the warmed cloths with ones dipped in the cool water he had just brought from the bathroom. He had taken his long sleeved shirt off to keep it dry, opting instead to dry his hands on his worn jeans. Under different circumstances, it would have been fine fodder for teasing. Sam looked up from the laptop on the table in front of him at his brother's low curse.

"The toxin," he swiveled to look at the younger Hunter, his green eyes wide with worry at the sudden thought. "Didn't we see somewhere, they use their poison to change women into lamia?"

"Shit!" Sam scrambled back through the pages of notes in front of him, skimming the page when he found it. "Yeah, here - the toxins contained in their secretions can be used to turn a female victim into lamia themselves, but it's thought that the woman has to have suffered the loss of a child," he recited from the page.

"It's thought? Isn't there something a bit more concrete in all that shit in front of you?" Dean's voice started to rise and he nearly jumped off the bed when a small, warm hand landed on his bare forearm. He turned back, expecting to be met with sharp green eyes and a reprimand for snapping at his brother. He was disappointed to see her eyes were still closed, though her head had turned toward him and a frown creased her brow.

Looking at her hand on his arm, it occurred to him just how small she really was. Stripped of her bold personality, the ferocity of her nature, her 5'4" frame looked almost child-like. Or it would have, if it wasn't for the layer of hard-earned muscle. He filed that thought away under things to never say out loud to Ren if I want to keep breathing. Taking a deep breath he laid his hand over hers, speaking softly as he did, "Sorry Ren, everything's okay. Sam and I are fine. You just need some rest and you'll be okay, too."

He could hear the lie in his own words, but his voice seemed to soothe her distress. Her grip on his arm loosened. He moved his hand from hers, laying his big palm on her hot forehead until the tension eased from her face. He squeezed his eyes closed and took another deep breath before turning back to the chaos of the research zone.

Sam was looking through notes and tickety-taping on the laptop keyboard, intent on finding answers.

"Sam?" Dean kept his voice even and low, not wanting to upset the feverish shapeshifter again.

"I don't know. I just can't find enough information on it. For all I know it's never happened before, or maybe it has and wasn't documented, or who knows?" Frustration was clear in his voice, but he kept his eyes locked on the material in front of him. "She's a therianthrope - she said she's immune to most illnesses, but that doesn't necessarily rule out things like this. If it's something that only affects women who've lost a child..."

"We don't know whether she has or not. We don't really know a whole lot about her past at all." Up until that very moment, that thought had never really bothered either of them. After her painful exile from what had been her family, they had not wanted to drag up old memories. If she did not offer information, they did not ask unless they had to. Now, though, all Dean could think was they might never get the chance to know more about her. With an angry shake of his head, he made a silent vow to kick that thought in the ass if it came around again.

"We can't exactly go back and ask them. I don't know if I would even risk finding another to ask even if we could, if word gets back to her clan that she's alive - " Dean left the thought hanging. They both knew what would happen, and it was not a thought either of them wanted to dwell on. "Maybe her natural immunities will be able to fight it off?"

"Either way, we can't really stay here now that the job is done."

"Sam, she's sick, we can't just pick up and go."

"I know, I don't like it either, but you know I'm right. She'll be in more danger if we stay than if we pack her into the car and go."

Dean sighed, defeated. Sam was right, of course, but he didn't like the idea of dragging her out in the state she was in. Not to mention the fact that they could not exactly keep digging for answers while on the road either. He really did not want to waste more time that they could be spending looking for answers, and he knew Sam didn't either, but at least one of them was thinking semi-clearly.

"Alright, so we head for the next state and then bunk down and keep working." Dean moved to start packing, but was brought up short by Sam's next words.

"I've got a better idea - I say we head for Bobby's, maybe he can help."