Disclaimer - They're not mine. More's the pity.

Summary/Warning - Check previous chapter.

A/N - In this chapter, the POV's are switched from Dean's to Sam. Hope you enjoy.

1 - Victoria's Secret Fashion Show

It was nearly noon when the sour smell of coffee hit Sam's nostrils and raised him from his slumber. Last night they decided to crash at the nearest motel they could find since neither of them was exactly sober to drive all the way back to the bunker, not after draining the cooler of all the bottles of beer it contained.

Following the smell, Sam rolled to his right on the bed and saw his brother sitting at the small kitchenette table with a cup of coffee in his hand, staring at the glowing screen of his laptop.

''Mornin','' Sam grunted as he sat up and rubbed his sleep-itchy face with his hands, smoothing his messy bangs out of his eyes in the process. When he opened his eyes again, he saw Dean looking at him in amusement.

''Morning, sleeping beauty.'' He said, taking a gulp of his coffee. ''Thought you were gonna sleep through the whole day.''

''How long you been up?'' Sam flicked his eyes towards Dean's still made up bed.

Dean looked at his watch before he answered. ''A while.''

In Sam's dictionary, probably haven't even slept. The younger Winchester sighed before he stood up and gathered his shaving kit to get his morning rituals done with and went to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes and a shower later, Sam put on a fresh T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and went back into the room to find Dean hadn't budged from his position. He poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned his back against the counter, facing his brother.

Last night was somewhat refreshing. It had been a long while since they sat and talked about practically nothing and tried to forget that anything else but the two of them existed.

Now though, they were back to reality. Back to Dean almost manically searching for a way to remove the mark and Sam worrying himself sick trying to keep his brother on a short leash.

Before Sam could utter any word, Dean broke the comfortable silence.

''So, you ready for a short trip to Baltimore?'' Sam arched a questioning brow at Dean. Going to Baltimore wasn't exactly what he expected to hear. He had expected that Dean would want to bolt and be on the road to the bunker as soon as Sam could open his eyes without squinting.

''What, you wanna spend another day in the middle of a nameless field, eating hotdogs?'' He mocked.

''No, I wanna book a fancy honeymoon suite there and stay in bed all night watching Victoria's Secret Fashion Show with you, Samantha!'' Dean threw back effortlessly. Sam approached the mini-table and sat across from his brother. ''Smartass!'' He said without heat, watching the corner of Dean's mouth lift in a tiny smirk.

''It's a case,'' Dean said in a way of explanation. ''A whole family was found dead in their beds a couple of days ago, only their youngest kid was found alive. Police reports says there was no sign of struggle or forced entry.''

''Could be just a psycho attack.'' Sam rationalized.

''Well, it also says here that the kid was admitted in Baltimore's Children's Mental Health Center for traumatically claiming that he helped the shadow kill his parents and sister.'' Dean finished reading and looked up smugly at his brother.

And it was sealed.

They were definitely going to Baltimore.

...

Sam wasn't about to refuse the chance to keep Dean out of the bunker for a few more days, to get Dean working on an actual hunt and keep him distracted, instead of his scary new habit of staying still and silent all the time.

Out of curiosity though, Sam was wondering where Dean's sudden urge to take this hunt was coming from. given that Sam had to practically drag him outside of his solitary and into fresh air the previous day.

Well, it wasn't about curiosity, not completely anyway. It was more about him worrying—which was Sam's newest habits these days. Sam was simply worried.

''Sam, anybody ever told you before that you think too loud?'' Dean's voice came from the car's driver seat, successfully interrupting Sam's train of thoughts.

''Huh,'' He looked at his brother as Dean averted his eyes back to road, easing the impala into the narrow streets of Baltimore.

They were on their way to the Children's Mental Health Center to try to speak to the kid who survived—the only member left of the Melton's family.

''Would you try and relax a little, please? I'm not about to ditch you in the car to go slit some random men's throats.'' The last line was obviously meant to be said casually, but Sam could easily pick up on the slight panicky pitch in Dean's voice. Please, don't let me do it again.

Sam simply looked at his brother, words trapped in his throat.

''You sure you want to do this?'' He was finally able to choke out.

Dean sighed loudly and looked away before he said, ''Yes, Sam. I'm sure.'' Sam just kept looking at him, expecting more to come.

''I just think it's better this way than being cramped between the walls and all books back there that's only job is to, you know, remind of me the stone-cold killer I am.'' Again, said casually. Almost.

And Sam almost choked on his tongue, ''Dean—''

''Look, Sam, let's just focus on the job here and just… forget it.'' Forget that I still have the damned mark, forget that I'm turning into my worst nightmare, forget that I can't stop it from actually happening.

And Sam still heard all of it, even though it wasn't said out loud.

As the Medical Center building came into view, Dean told him, ''Okay, so tell me about this kid.''

After heaving a dramatic sigh, Sam started, ''His name is Josh O'Bryan, twelve years old. Turns out that he was given to a foster family—The Milton's—after his real parents died in a car accident when he was eight.''

''Wow, no wonder they put the kid in a Mental hospital.'' Dean frowned, stopping the car in the parking lot of the building.

''Yeah.'' Sam replied distractedly, switching through the open windows on his laptop screen. ''Check this out, says here that 911 emergency center had received around five calls from The Melton's neighbors in the past couple years, each time reporting hearing shouting and crashes coming from the house. Also Josh's medical report states that there were obvious signs of physical abuse found on his body, which goes back before the time of the murder of the Melton's.''

''So what are we thinking? A mommy vengeful spirit protecting her kid from an abusive family?''

''Couple be.''

''Yeah, wouldn't blame her.'' Dean said, opening the door and getting out of the car. Sam following suit.

…..

After they talked to the kid—who turned out to be really traumatized—the brothers were back to square one. When they were finally able to assure Josh that they meant no harm and just wanted to know what had really happened that night, they were only able to decipher little information from the string of mumbled words he said. A shadow—who wasn't his mother's or father's for that matter—had appeared to him one night, inside his closet, after his foster father had beaten him up for breaking something inside the house.

And that was as far as they were going to get from the freaked out kid.

The only good side of their visit was discovering the fact that Dean hasn't lost his touch with kids, specially the scarred-for-life ones. It did loosen the grip of worry in the pet of Sam's stomach a little bit. There was still so much Dean in there, even after everything he had gone through—was going through. Sam mused.

It was only typical to check the house after that, and all they were able to find was a wild peep here and there coming from their EMF. No sulfur and nothing more than what the papers and police sheets reported.

Sam, though, didn't miss the way his brother had almost stumbled at the sight of blood-soaked sheets in the master bedroom that apparently no-one bothered to throw away, or the way the hand that held the flashlight shook slightly. And suddenly, to Sam, taking this hunt was a really bad idea.

''You okay?'' Sam whispered, not really sure whether because he felt like it wasn't appropriate not to whisper with the way death seemed to loom over the place and press against his body or just so he wouldn't startle his brother.

And despite Sam's thoughtfulness, Dean was still startled by the sudden noise. ''What? Yeah, I'm fine.'' Dean swallowed, frantically sweeping the room with his eyes one last time before lifting his gaze up to look at Sam. ''Why?''

''Nothing,'' Sam shrugged nonchalantly. It's not like he expected another answer anyway.

''So, are we done here?'' Sam nodded. ''Alright, let's go. This place is giving me the creeps.'' Dean said offhandedly and left the room, Sam's footsteps echoing his own.

….

An hour later, Sam and Dean entered a dinner for a lunch break. The place seemed achingly familiar to Dean, but he couldn't pinpoint when exactly he had been here before. He shrugged to himself as a waitress showed them to a booth at the corner of the room.

The waitress poured them coffee and told them to call for her when they have decided what to eat, Dean gave her a half smile, which still—in his worst days—made the waitress blush.

He blocked the sight of Sam shaking his head by the scalding-hot cup of coffee and took a deep gulp.

''Man, I'll never wrap my head around how you do that.'' Sam said, looking at him in wonder, thumbs trailing the menu papers unconsciously.

Confused, Dean replied, ''Do what?''

Still smiling, Sam just shook his head again and signaled to the waitress, even though Dean hasn't had the chance to touch his menu, yet. It wasn't like he was hungry anyway. He was never hungry these days… expect for one thing.

No. He wasn't going there. He shook his head to get rid of the thought.

''So, what about breakfast for lunch?'' Sam was saying. ''Since you hauled our asses here even before we had the chance to eat breakfast and all,'' He continued when Dean's only reply was silence.

''Yeah, okay.'' Dean shrugged. It didn't really matter to him. He would stuff his face with whatever Sam threw at him if it meant that the kid would lay off him a bit.

''Alright, then. You're lucky this place serves breakfast till now.'' Sam had barely finished talking before the waitress approached their table.

''So, are you guys ready to order?'' It wasn't the same waitress from before, her voice was different. Her voice was familiar. Dean thought and looked up at the blond waitress, who had the name Caroline carved into her name tag.

The waitress' smile fell the second her eyes landed on him and Dean felt the coffee he had just consumed rising back up in his throat.

''Dean?''

- tbc ..

Cliffy ending? Yeah sorry about that *evil grin* And I'm sorry if the story is going so slowly for you, but it's gonna be kinda a slow build, just so you know ;)

Thanks for reading and have a nice day!

Aya S.