Author's Note: Here's chapter 3. Thanks for those of you who have been reviewing and adding to your favorites and such. It means a lot and wants me to write more. Hope you guys have liked it so far.

Sam's feet are asleep later on because at the point, so were mine. My feet fall asleep all the time so I felt like torturing Sam some :)

And so we go.

XxXxXx

Dean looked up at his brother. "You could be the next victim."

Sam wrinkled his brow. He didn't want to believe it but he knew it was true. "So? We fight through this just like any other case." Sam said.

Dean nodded. "We have to be careful though. I don't want you dying. Not after I went to Hell to keep you alive."

"Alright," Sam said taking another drink of his beer.

"Sammy, the first time you hear from your imaginary friend. I want you to tell me right away." Dean was very serious about this. They had worked cases where something affects either one of them. It still wasn't fun. Now that they knew Sam could possibly be the next to die, then things would go faster. They would work faster to try and get the case done before anything happened to Sam.

"Alright," Sam said.

"I'm serious Sammy. I don't care what I'm doing or anything. I want you to tell me right away."

"Alright Daniel, I get it," Sam chuckled.

Dean gave him a death glare. "I wish we would have never met that woman." Dean grumbled throwing this empty beer bottle onto his bed.

Sam shrugged glad the mood had lightened a little bit. "But Daniel, if it wasn't for Marge, then we wouldn't know what we do now."

"But man, I mean c'mon, is Daniel even close to sounding like Dean?" Dean asked throwing his arms up in the air. They landed on the bed with a loud thump.

"Well, no not really." Sam said. "Does Samuel sound anything like Sam?"

"Actually yes it does Samuel." Dean declared.

Sam rolled his eyes. "We are never going to stop calling each other Samuel or Daniel are we?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm not planning on it Samuel."

Sam sighed shaking his head. "Alright change of subject, where is Matthew buried?"

Dean thought for a moment. "Dammit, I forgot to ask where Mattie was buried!"

"How?" Sam asked. "We always ask where they are buried."

"I don't know." Dean grumbled. "Do you have her phone number?"

"Yeah, I'll give her a call." Sam dialed the number and talked to Marge for a couple minutes before hanging up.

"Where is he buried?" Dean asked.

"He's not."

"Ah crap, he's cremated isn't he?" Dean groaned.

"Yep."

"Do you know if she kept a part of him?"

"Yeah."

"What'd she keep?"

"She kept a lock his hair. Guess where it is?"

"I don't know. Where is it?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed. "She wears it around her neck."

"You've got me be kidding me," Dean groaned.

XxXxXx

Sam heard the light snore of his brother and sighed. He hadn't been able to sleep tonight. Too many thoughts were running through his head. About Dean. About Ruby. About what was going on. About the case they were working. About Joey.

Joey. Sam sighed rubbing his hands over his face. He knew Joey was going to come at anytime. He just hoped it was sometime where we wasn't with Dean. But, knowing them, it would be. They just had that luck.

Sam rolled over and looked at the clock. The red block letters said 4:38 AM. Sam sighed throwing back the covers. He grabbed a sweatshirt and pulled it on. He grabbed his key to the room and glanced over at Dean who was out on his own bed. Sam chuckled slightly under his breath. His brother could sleep through anything and not be woken up. Sam walked out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Sam padded along bear foot on the sidewalk. He had his hands in the pocket of his sweatshirt to keep his hands warm. Even though it was late September, it was still cold at night. Sam walked for a couple more minutes before sitting down on a bench in a park. Sam pulled his feet up underneath them to keep them warm. Now he was regretting not wearing anything on his feet.

Sam leaned his head down so his chin was sitting on his chest. He closed his eyes getting lost in his thoughts again.

"Sam."

Sam's head shot up and his hand went to his gun in the band of his sweatpants. He sat up so his feet were touching the ground. He winced as his feet hit the ground because they were asleep. He must have been sitting there for a while and he must have fallen asleep.

"Sam."

The voice came again and Sam looked around. It wasn't Dean's voice. Dean would call him first and he hadn't heard his phone go off. He didn't recognize the voice.

"Sam."

Sam stood up and the tingling in his feet got worse. Sam took a couple steps.

"Sam."

This time it was right behind him. Sam whipped around to see a little boy. The little boy was about four with short spiky hair and dark chocolate brown eyes. He had freckles on his cheeks.

"Sam."

Sam took a step back as his breathing hitched. He knew who this was. He knew very well. The last time Sam had been him was when Sam was five.

"Sam."

Sam raised his gun and shot at the little boy.

XxXxXx

Dean rolled over and glanced at the clock. It said 5:21 AM. Dean looked at the bed next to him and saw that it was empty. Dean first thought Sam was in the bathroom but the light wasn't on and he didn't hear any movement from inside. Dean looked around and noticed that Sam's sweatshirt was gone along with his pistol. However, his shoes were still here.

Dean reached for his cell phone and dialed Sam's number.

XxXxXx

Sam looked at where the little boy had been standing. Sam's phone went off and he reached into his pocket and answered it.

"Sam?"

Sam said breathless at Dean on the other end of the line. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong?" Dean's voice went from tired to concerned.

Sam looked around before answering. "I saw him."

"Who?"

"Joey."

Sam turned around again as he heard Dean started to swear. "Alright Sam. Stay where you are. I'll come and get you."

"Dean, I gotta go. He's here again." Sam hung up his phone and started to sprint the opposite direction of Joey. Sam ran off to the woods to try and lose Joey.

He felt the twigs, bark, mulch, and everything else of the woods beneath his bare feet. Branches hit him as he ran by them. Sam's breath was short and labored. His ribs were still healing from the crash and it made it difficult to run. His knee was on fire but he wasn't going to let that slow him down.

"Sam."

Sam almost fell over when he heard that voice again. Instead, he picked up his pace.

"Sam."

Sam tripped over a root and skidded on the dirt. He picked himself back up and ran.

"Sam."

"Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit," Sam kept on muttereing as he was running. Sam left the woods and was now on the pavement of the sidewalk. He began to run back to the motel. He felt the pavement digging into the pads of his feet. He looked behind him and saw a trail of bloody foot prints.

"Sam."

Sam began to curse more and run harder.

"Sam."

Sam felt like he ran straight into a brick wall. He fell flat on his ass and looked to see that there was no wall. Standing in front of Sam, was Joey. Sam pulled his gun out again and shot Joey again. The shot at hit and Sam began to run again.

XxXxXx

"Dammit Sammy," Dean muttered pacing back and forth in the room. He looked out the window and saw Sam fall on his ass. Dean watched Sam shot something and begin sprinting to the motel. Dean went to the door to hold it open for Sam.

"Sam c'mon," Dean shouted as Sam made a face plant into some invisible force. He heard Sam cry out in pain. He watched as Sam sat up but was forced down. He saw Sam moving his mouth and then his head went back. He heard Sam cry out in pain and Dean sprinted forward with his pistol drawn.

"Sonvabitch, over here!" Dean shouted shooting at the little boy. The little boy disappeared leaving Sam to collapse on the ground clutching his chest.

"Sammy?" Dean knelt beside his brother. He had cuts on his face that were bleeding. His feet were bleeding and they left a bloody trail of footprints in his wake. He had blood on his chest from where the kid started to pull his heart out. Dean looked down at his little brother whose face was scrunched up in pain.

"Sammy?"