Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. Thanks a lot for all the reviews I have been getting. I was surprised at the reception. I really didn't expect for someone to actually know of the place that I'm writing, and to have been there. So, in honor, "Hey Celtic-Spaniard."

Dean watched Sam as he slept, still wanting to make sure he was okay. They had driven all day, and were only stopped now because he had insisted. It was scary, watching Sam try to keep up with him and still be tired. Sam had been nodding off, trying to keep up a conversation and mumbling when he had finally stopped for the evening. They had made a lot of leeway toward getting there, but Dean knew for Sammy's sake, they needed to stop. Sam had only objected for a few minutes, before Dean told him that he was tired, and Sammy gave in, concerned for his brother. Dean knew it was wrong to take advantage of a trait that had been instilled in both of them like that, but it needed to be done.

It had been worth it, too. The second they went into the room, Sam had plopped down on the nearest bed and fallen asleep with his shoes and clothes still on. Dean had picked up his brother and scooted him over to the other bed, taking his usual position by the door so that he could protect Sam if something came into their room. Dean had pulled off his shoes, checked the temperature in the room, and then put another blanket over Sam. The quilt that he had used to cover up with when he was sick was still out in the backseat of the Impala. Dean didn't really want to see it again. It brought back too many bad memories now, was associated with almost losing Sam instead of wrapping him up in the car so he and his dad could go hunt while Sam slept.

Now, as he watched him sleep, he started noticing little things that set off warning bells that something was going to happen. Sam was twitching and seemed to be trying to get away from something. He gently went over to sit closer and be there in case he was needed.

Sam could feel the cold pit in his stomach. There were people his age dying, killing themselves. He saw a woman standing behind them and whispering things in their ears to make them do it. She was so pretty and he felt drawn to her. She set her eye on him and started drawing him to her. He couldn't escape, could hear her voice and then he felt her breath on his cheek. The air was becoming heavier and he fought to get away. He had the sensation of being on a table and it was moving. Dean was near but he was slipping away from him, and Sam knew he couldn't stay there. Was that Dean crying?

Sam awoke with a scream and flailing his arms, sending Dean flying back off of the bed. Dean watched as Sam looked around frantically trying to focus on where he was. His breath was coming in sharp, rapid gasps, and Dean knew he had to calm him down. "Sammy?"

Sam continued to look around, trying to reacquaint himself with his surroundings. He hadn't been here. Maybe it was a dream. No, it was too real. He had felt as though he were actually there, and he knew that he was. Maybe this was the dream. Maybe this was the in-between place, and he was dead.

Dean knew something had to be done. Sam was freaking out, starting to hyperventilate. He grabbed his baby brother's face by the chin, and forced him to look at him. "Sammy. Sam, I need you to calm down. Everything is okay. You're going to be just fine. Just take deep breaths." He instructed, continuing to talk until he was sure Sam had understood.

It took a few moments, but Sam's eyes became clear and his breath had calmed down enough for him to be considered safe. Dean still held his shaking brother with one hand. He rubbed little tiny circles on Sam's back, and waited a few minutes, just allowing him to relax. When the shivering had stopped and Sam wasn't frantically searching the room with his eyes, Dean spoke once more. "Can you tell me what it was, Sam?" He asked gently, not wanting to get the kid upset again.

"Dean...I don't know. I was...I don't know. I just...I had a nightmare. I don't know what happened. It was so real. I was dying." Sam said, showing signs that he was numb from the experience and the shock of it. He was out in space, and Dean became more aggressive with the circles he was rubbing in Sam's back, trying to keep him from going into a state of shock.

"It's okay. I'm not gonna let you die. I didn't when you were in the hospital, and I'm not gonna now. It was probably just a dream of when you were in the hospital, something you didn't remember until now." Dean knew that red lights and flashing bells should have been going off. Sam did have visions of when things were going to happen. Stubbornly, he ignored the warning, though, sure in his ability to keep Sam safe. It was his duty, something he had always done, even more so since Sam had been sick. He wouldn't let anything happen.

Sam started shaking again, out from under the blanket and calmed down enough to notice his surroundings. He let the subject drop for right now. It didn't happen here. Nothing had happened here, and he would just need to be careful when they did find the place. So, even though everything in him told him not to do it since Jess had died, he let go of the dream. "Dean, it's cold in here."

Dean looked at him with an incredulous look on his face. It was the middle of April in Tennessee and it was pretty warm, even at this time of the night. The room was actually warm enough for him to wear a t-shirt to bed right now, but he went to the thermostat, and turned up the temperature a little bit. "Get back in bed, Sam." He said, trying to shake this off. They had a long day ahead of them, and they were almost three quarters of the way there. He needed as much sleep as possible for when they went to go investigate. Sam laid back in bed and stared at the ceiling, trying to go back to sleep. Dean had turned the light out, allowing Sam the time to go back to sleep. When he was sure that Sam was resting peacefully, he sat up and stood guard, watching his baby brother for any signs of a nightmare, until the morning came.

Thanks for reading this chapter. I hope you liked it. Please feel free to leave any type of review, whether it be praise, constructive criticism, or a question. I love both long and short reviews. The long ones give you an idea of how your writing is, and the short one encourage you as well.