"AHHHHHHH!!," Sam's scream echoed in the dark void. Dean jolted awake with a cold sweat. He wasn't clear on the facts of his latest dream, but he knew it was about Sam dying again.

"Ahhhh!!!" Sam screamed again slamming his fist into his computer keyboard!

The panicked Dean shot up in the motel bed with his gun in hand. He fanned the room, but only saw his frustrated brother's face illuminated by the computer screen. "What the hell are you screaming about?" Dean grunted. He realized that Sam's voice must have triggered the image in his head, spilling real life into the images of his dreams. These days, he need little prompting to dream of Sam dying as the image was on permanently on his mind.

Sam looked apologetically at his brother."Sorry." He winched in frustration. "I just have had it with the white pages of death. Uh.. Dean … you can put the gun down while you're at it."

The word death straightened Dean's spine. The weapon lowered easily once he knew Sam was still safe. "What are you talking about?" He faked a half-sleepiness and groaned. "White Pages of Death! Dude, you need to get more sleep."

"I'm trying to get more information on Alex Kelsey's blood drained corpse. The case we are working on- the one in West Virginia. But when I hit submit, I keep getting this white page that says unavailable." Sam's fatigue sparked a bit of sarcasm in his voice. "You do remember the case we are going to look into?"

"YEAH… I remember, smartass"

"That makes two places I have brains that you don't." Glaring at his brother from behind the scene, he waited for a retort. It was the first time Sam noticed the slightly disheveled appearance that tainted Dean's face. "Are you okay? You look…"

"I'm fine!" The response was fast and short-too short, even for Dean. "Those burgers we had are sitting in my stomach like a rock."

"You did eat TWO!" Fingers clicked upon the mouse button eagerly only to find the same result "ARGGGGH"

"I think that you should take that as a sign to go to bed and stop playing around on it. We'll be in Left Hand soon." He allowed himself to chuckle. "You know, Sam, I liked some of the results that came up from looking up the words left hand."

"Dean!" Sam sparked with agitation. Some of those sites were sick!"

Chuckling, Dean jumped out of bed and scurried over to see the current bane of Sam's existence. Sure enough, the computer was frozen on a white page of death. Hoping to lighten Sam's mood, Dean joked, "Sam how do you think Left Hand got its name?" Dean began to mock some bad horror movie ghost. "Oooooh...BOOO….scary????!!!" Dean put his fingers in front of Sam's face and began to waiver his fingers like spider legs.

Smacking away Dean's hand, Sam groaned and looked at his brother disapprovingly, "One day when you grow up I hope I'm there to see it." Sam's face suddenly twinged with some pang of regret.

Dean could tell that Sam's fatigue had caused him to think of some bad times. Before those thoughts could linger or build, Dean tapped the back of Sam's head playfully. "Don't worry you'll be there and growing up is overrated."

Sam chuckled in humored disbelief and was about to attempt to defeat the white page of death for the millionth time, when Dean interrupted his train of thought.

"Well, its 5 in the morning, but since I'm UP." Dean overstressed. "We might as well pack up and hit the road. You can grab some shuteye on the way. It's a small town, so we can probably get some good leads from the locals." Dean felt the need to smack Sam another time, just for good measure before he started to clear out his things.

"Dude, I swear, one day...argh!" Sam knew it was pointless to continue the banter. He was too tired to put up a fight against Dean's wit. But when he had more energy, he would get Dean good.

Looking pleased with himself, Dean yelled, "HA!" in triumphant victory. "Get cracking and load up, Sammy!"

Turning his head to glare at his brother again, Sam wondered what kind of number those burgers had dealt Dean. His face was sweat wet and drained. "Dude, are you sure your okay?"

"Yeah… just a little sea sick. Nothing that the open road won't cure."

-x-x-xx-xx-

Faded yellow lines whizzed beneath the Impala's wheels. Under Dean's stead charge, the car purred in perfection. This was often his favorite time; just Dean and his baby on the road, living the good life. However, today, he just couldn't get the image of Sam's lifeless and cold body out of his mind. It was as if his soul held a permanent impression of what it felt like to hold the rigid weighted and unmoving shell of everything that meant the entire world to him. Within a second, he could relieve and feel everything about that moment. He could revisit the sickening feeling of that second when the world crashed. Even when he watched over Sam's remains, he wanted to crawl into a ball and die too.

Reflection caused him to glance over into the passenger seat just to ensure it wasn't empty. Finding a sleeping Sam helped to ease his burden, feeling secure in the fact that the deal has been more than worth it. His brother had more to contribute to this world than he ever could. Dean often wondered how Sam turned out so well and he just messed everything up.

Self-loathing had taken a hold of Dean a long time ago. He doubted he was capable of loving anything else in this world. All he could see was pain. His saving gratitude was that his life would be over soon and he would never feel so lost again.