Chapter II: New Hunt.

The next morning found Dean up bright, if not so early. He waded through his breakfast of donuts and coffee while surfing the internet for any possible hunts. The one they just finished had been sent to them by Bobby, who had already researched it but been unable to come out here himself. Dean was grateful to the old guy, as it had given Sam something to distract him from having too much time to think about what had happened with Max.

Somehow Dean got the feeling that, if given the time, Sam would probably have turned into a mental wreck by now. He shuddered at the thought of what that would entail. Sam having an emotional breakdown was not something he wanted to cope with again.

Glancing up from the laptop, he watched his brother sleeping curled up on his side facing Dean. He smiled as a small glob of drool made its way past his brother's slightly parted lips to trickle down the side of his face. Where was that blasted phone when he needed it? Sammy would be so pissed upon discovering he still had the disgusting habit.

He checked his watch and frowned. It was quarter-to-nine but Sam had not stirred once since Dean had woken, something that set off alarm bells in Dean's head.

Sam was usually the first one up in the morning. And unless there was something wrong with him, it tended to be way before what Dean would begin to consider a decent time to be even thinking about removing himself from the comfort of his bed.

Last night he had been so occupied with dealing with his brother's hay wired emotions he'd failed to note how much that smack Sammy had taken to the head might've been affecting him.

Now he worried that perhaps Sam may have bumped his head harder than he cared to admit. Dean just hoped Sam didn't have a concussion. That would be so not cool.

Suddenly, Sam began tossing and muttering incoherently in his sleep. And as Dean stood up and approached the bed, he noticed a slight sheen of sweat covering Sam's face and neck.

Dean quickly placed his hand on his brother's brow to feel for fever. He really hoped Sam was not getting sick; under no condition did he want to get stuck out here in the middle of nowhere

He was relieved to feel a normal temperature. But it was short lived as Sam's thrashing increased to the point that he was withering all over the bed like he was trying to escape from something holding him.

Dean placed a hand tentatively on Sam's shoulder. When nothing happened, he began vigorously shaking his brother in an attempt to wake him up.

"Sam. Sammy." He called. "Hey, come on dude, wake up."

Sam rolled over onto his back and cracked an eye open. "Deeeean. Waaaaasss wong?" he slurred, not fully awake.

"You were having a dream is what." Dean brushed back a lock of Sam's sweat soaked bangs and frowned at his brother. Sam may not have had a fever, but his clothes and bedding were soaked with sweat, causing them to stick to his body, and his eyes were beginning to show dark rings under them.

"Unnnnnng. Whaaaa time's it." Sam murmured rolling over and burying his face under the pillow.

"It's quarter-to-nine Sleeping Beauty." Dean cajoled, catching hold of the end of Sammy's blanket and pulling it off his brother.

"Mmmmf. Leeme lone." Sam wined as he groped for the blanket that Dean was holding bunched up under his arm.

"Ahhh, now you see, that's just not happening cause you need to get up so we can get out of this shithole and find a place with real service. Unless you're getting sick again."

Even though Dean said this in a teasing manner he couldn't help feeling a twinge of apprehension in his gut. Ever since high school Sam had never complained about getting up, not to this extent at least, unless there was something very wrong with him. Even when he was sick he would try to suck it up like Dean always did.

"Sammy, you feeling alright man." Dean studied his brother a little more closely. Sam's eyes were bloodshot and his face was so pale the veins under his skin were beginning to show.

Instead of responding to Dean's question, Sam propelled himself off of the mattress and tackled Dean.

"If I was sick would I be able to do this." Sam groused; finally back in the realm of consciousness.

The brothers rolled over a few times before Dean managed to gain the upper hand and wrestle his younger brother to the floor. Sitting astride Sam's chest while pinning his arms to his sides via his legs, Dean gleefully wiggled his fingers in Sam's face and smiled evilly.

"Seems you've forgotten the rule of what happens when you attack your awesome big brother first thing in the morning." Dean's grin got bigger as Sam wiggled furiously in a desperate attempt to escape the impending punishment he knew his brother was about to mete out.

"Ah, ah Sammy. You didn't think I would just let you get away with it, now did you?" Dean reproached in false shock when Sam changed tactics and tried his puppy dog eyes. This time it was not going to save him.

Sam didn't have time for another escape attempt as Dean began to rake his wiggling fingers over his defenseless brother's sides. Having just woken up, Sam was completely at the mercy of his brother.

Dean showed no leniency as he tickled and poked every spot he could think of where he knew Sammy was sensitive in. In no time, he had reduced his younger brother to a squirming, hysterically laughing heap on the floor.

"St…stop. Stop. Ghaaaa. Please. Enouhahahaf. You…wh…win." Sam just managed to get out in-between giggles and increasing boughts of laughter.

"I don't know Sammy. Seems you still haven't learned your lesson." Dean cackled without letting up for a second. He was having a heyday watching his brother acting like a six-year-old. "Penalty stops when I decide you have sufficiently repented of the evil deeds that thou attempted upon your unprepared yet amazing older sibling." Sam only managed another shriek of laughter as Dean doubled his efforts.

After five minutes Dean decided Sam had had enough and so, somewhat grudgingly, rolled off him.

Sam lay panting on the floor, his face red from the lack of air Dean's tickle torture had brought on, when he heard his brother taunting him.

"Wow Sammy. I know you're a bitch most of the time but I didn't know you squealed like a one as well."

Sam glowered at Dean who was sitting with his back against the end of the bed, a sweetly innocent grin plastered over his face. Disregarding the 'lesson' he had just suffered at the hand of his brother, Sam pounced on Dean. Using his body to pin Dean's legs, he began tickling Dean's belly. This would have been an effective means of payback had it not been for the fact that Dean was completely and utterly not ticklish.

Instead, Dean sat contently with his hands behind his head and watched his younger brother's pitiful attempt at retribution, grinning silently all the while except for a single. "Dude, you do know your position is just gay." This prompted Sam to try all the harder, adding to Dean's amusement.

After about a minute of watching Sam get more and more frustrated with his lack of results, Dean decided they couldn't waist anymore time. Waiting until Sam shifted in an attempt to try a different area to attack; Dean pulled his legs in and positioned his heels just above Sam's pelvis. With a small grunt of exertion, he sent Sammy sprawling backwards.

The site of Sammy lying spread-eagle on the carpet with a look of total surprise on his face did what all his younger brother's efforts had failed to accomplish. Dean clutched his sides as he doubled over, roaring with laughter.

'What's so funny?" Sam asked in a whiny voice. Unfortunately, this along with the pouty look that now slid onto his face only seemed to send Dean into fresh gales of laughter.

Alright, Sam had to admit, the site of him trying to tickle his brother, who was probably the most unticklish person he knew, had to be rather amusing. He soon joined in on Dean's merriment until both boys were out of breath.

Wiping a few tears of mirth from his eyes, Dean pushed himself up to sit on the foot of the bed and shook his head. "Sammy, I swear if you ever try that again, I will strap you to a bed and not stop tickling you for a week.

Sam knew from past experiences that Dean was serious, but that didn't stop him from breaking into a smothered laugh or risking another poke. "Oh and I'm the one who's gay!"

Dean had to smile as he remembered he last time he had made good his promise. He had been allowed to keep Sam handcuffed to their motel room bed for four full hours of tickling, with intervals for the two of them to catch their breath, before John had forced Dean to release his brother.

Although Dean had done so only slightly grudgingly, it had left no doubt in Sam's mind that it was a promise Dean would not fail to follow up on. And this time there would be no John to rescue him.

Wiping a hand across his cheek to remove the remaining traces of the tears from laughing, Sam jerked his head back when his hand came in contact with some manner of slimy substance covering his cheek and jaw. Bringing his hand up to eye level so he could get a better look at the offending goop he heard Dean start cracking up again.

"Did you do this?" Sam asked annoyed.

Dean merely snickered some more. "Oh well," he chuckled. "Uh, I don't know how to tell you this Samantha. But, uh, it looks like you still drool in your sleep."

As he had predicted Sam jumped up with a horrified expression and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Dean doubled over in silent sniggers as the sound of the shower running reached his ears. Sammy was such a girl sometimes, but he hadn't expected pretty boy to take a full out shower just to get rid of a little drool.

Smirking triumphantly at the prospect of using this as ammunition against Sam in the future, Dean returned to his donuts and waited for his sissy little brother to show.

Half-an-hour later Sam finally emerged from the bathroom accompanied by a cloud of steam. Dean looked up from the computer and felt his face splitting into another evil grin when he saw Sammy's still sour-puss expression.

"Did you remember to manicure your nails while you were in there? Maybe need more time to put your curlers in?" Dean knew he really shouldn't have done that but the kid was just so much fun when he got worked up over Dean's teasing.

Sam glowered at him and Dean was sure that if the little bitch hadn't been such a prissy wuss he would have spun up the towel and flicked him with it. Instead, Sam opted to say nothing and busied himself with getting dressed before Dean could come up with anymore jibs.

"Find anything?" Sam asked as he joined Dean at the table.

Dean opened the window he had minimized and turned the computer over to Sam. "Take a look.'

"Movie monster murders maid?" Sam asked, looking at the title of the article. Dean motioned for him to keep reading.

"Dika Petulengro, age 50, was killed last night by an unidentified attacker that witnesses claim was half man, half wolf.

Miss Petulengro, a maid at the Aqua Horizon Spa and Inn in Sedona, Arizona, had been retuning from delivering a load of laundry being sent too the cleaners when she was attacked just outside the main entrance to the front lobby.

The night clerk, Arthur Blare, reported seeing the unknown assailant before he attacked Miss Petulengro. "He was tall; seven foot at least, built like a pro-wrestler, and covered in hair and had ears like an animal. His face was stretched into a snout like a wolf's and he had huge teeth, like fangs."

"If you ever wondered what a werewolf looks like you should have seen this guy," said Henry Cross, the doorman. "His eyes were all yellow and hade a sort of red glow to them. His hands were curled up like claws with gigantic nails. Whoever it was I never want to see him again."

Authorities believe that ….

Sam didn't bother to read the rest of the article since he knew what it would say.

"Werewolf?" he glanced over at Dean before hurriedly returning his line of vision back to the computer screen so he wouldn't have to see the contents off his brother's mouth.

"Fits the description," Dean said swallowing. "Just one problem…"

"Full moon was ten days ago." Sam finished.

"Exactly." Dean said cheerfully and started helping himself to the contents of the second donut box.

"Mitts off you bottomless pit!" Sam grabbed the box before his brother could filch anymore of its goodies.

"Awww come on, that's not fair," Dean whined. "I was the one who went out and got them while you were still dreaming about Prince Charming."

"You're going to get fat Dean." Not strictly true given how much exercise they got on the job, but still it was funny imagining a fat older sibling. Sam smiled and began eating.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"OK," Sam said when he had polished off the last donut, "I guess this means that we're heading to Sedona, right?"

"Mmhmm." Dean nodded. "Sooner we get away from this hellhole the better."

"Then let's go." Sam said and hurriedly gulped down the last of his coffee while throwing stuff into his bag. He was just as anxious as Dean to leave but for different reasons. The sooner they got out of here the sooner Dean would stop poking his nose into every twist of his little brother's psyche.

"Come on." Dean yelled from the car park. "Like some time this century would be nice ya know." Now Dean was outside the door, clearly he had every intention of getting as far away from here as fast as humanly possible.

Giving the room a glance over to make sure they hadn't left anything behind, Sam shouldered his bag and joined Dean in the car.

"Dude, do you just like have this perverse enjoyment for busting my eardrums or something?" Sam had to yell to be heard over Metallica's Devil's Dance that was playing at earsplitting decibels.

"Nope," Dean grinned, it was a wonder in itself that he could make himself heard over the music without yelling. "Just bidding the locals a fond 'adios'." With Dean belting out the lyrics in time with the song, they pulled out toward the highway and whatever awaited them at the end of it

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