Part 4.

Sam is stumped and worried watching Dean twirl French fries around in his ketchup, a burger sitting on his plate with only two bites taken out of it. He's watching him carefully sipping on his steaming mug of green tea that Dean still had the presence of mind to grimace at. He mind is still reeling with Dean's revelation about the stairs, the evil in the Ross' house and the affect it seemed to be having on his brother.

Now was not a good time for something to lay heavily on Dean's heart especially when things were already shaky between them and when Dean was on the offensive, hiding things to wrap around himself like armor. Sam shoots him a warm smile in hopes on melting some of the icy shock that seemed to still have Dean in its grips.

"You okay?" He asks softly, shooting a grateful smile to their waitress as she walks away after refilling their waters.

Dean shrugs with his question and drops the fry, wiping his greasy salty fingers off on his jeans. He leans his elbows on the table top and sucks on his straw moodily, avoiding Sam's eyes. The little shivers still vibrating through Dean frame not lost upon his little brother and that he knows he's in for a grilling.

"Dean," Sam says softly, an urgency in his voice. "I know you're mad at me..." what he really wants to ask, are you still mad at me? Because it's killing him; the gentle silences and anguished looks Dean keeps getting and now this...this worry for Dean's health and this strange case causing an even stranger reaction from Dean and Sam doesn't understand and he's scared and he can't read Dean right now because he doesn't know where his head is.

"I know you're still made at me, but talk to me. You've been weird."

Dean sends him a disgruntled look, he didn't want to talk about being angry, but didn't want to talk about that house and definitely definitely didn't want to talk about the way it made him feel. Sam's heart sinks as Dean rolls his shoulders as if pushing a weight off and sending Sam a more alive glance.

"I'm not mad Sam, not anymore."

Sam blinks at that, what? That was about the most uncharacteristic thing Dean could ever say. His worry just amps higher with each moment that passes. There's a soul deep sadness in Dean's eyes that hadn't been there in years, the last time Sam had seen that slump in his shoulders he'd been about to give himself up to Michael, the younger brother swallows thickly. This was all about the picture? Couldn't be...what the hell was going on?

"I just...I just want the picture back Sam, I don't care why you did it, whatever, just can I have it back?" This quiet, sad, defeated Dean was a million time worse, his distrust and doubt hurt a million times worse.

Sam sits back like he's been slapped, his eyes watering. "What is it gonna take for you to believe me, Dean?" He asks, trying to keep the frustrated hiss from his tone, "I don't have the picture, I'm sorry it's gone, I am and wish, I really do wish I could give it back to you...wish I had stollen it just so I could give it back...but I didn't and I can't Dean. And we have a case to concentrate on so is your head in the game or not?"

Dean's eyes take on a sharpness, his nostrils flare at Sam's words and he's glad to think that Dean's finally listening to him actually taking into consideration that he might have not taken the picture. Sam can tell the question about Dean being focused or not stings his brother but he knows sometimes Dean needs a push. Dean's head ticks to the side in annoyance and Sam actually smiles at the welcomed fire in his brother's eyes.

"Now," Sam says with a sigh, "What are we going to do next?" He wants Dean to elaborate on that slightly scared, almost enraptured look that had been in his eyes as he stood in that bathroom.

Dean echoes his sigh and mindlessly tears up the paper casing from his straw into little pieces. "I don't know Sam..." his lips purse into a frowning line. "You said the house checks out?"

Sam nods, "Yep, usually old houses like that have at least one or two deaths tucked under their belts but this place is clean."

"Was the place empty at any time?" Dean asks, his eyes cast down on the table, his fingers playing in the mess he'd made.

Sam frowns but logs into his iPad, looking over his research. "Uhm yeah... looks like the place was abandoned for twenty or so years before the family that the Ross' bought the house from moved in...they were the Warrens who bought the house off a Wendy Lowry; but she had never lived in the house, it was family property."

"Why did the Warren's move?" Dean asks, and Sam sends him a look that clearly says I'm not psychic anymore.

Dean takes the bait and raises his eyes brows as if to say' behave' Sam grins, looking back to his iPad. "They lived in the house three years before they moved out and put the house on the market, unsuccessfully until three years ago when the Ross' bought it."

"Three years?" Dean arches a brow, "Its good thing we don't believe in coincidences."

"Yeah," Sam muses, "There's definitely something going on here."

"Okay," Dean sits forward, his eyes snapping with intelligence and interest, the case having finally captured his attention. "So the question is who stayed at the place before it was abandoned for 'twenty or so' years?" He air quotes Sam and the younger brother rolls his eyes but nods his head.

"That would be the question." Sam affirms.

"I wonder..." Dean breaks off, looking out the restaurant window they were sitting in.

"What?" Sam asks, ready to accept any new ideas.

"Deaths would be reported but what about accidents or suicide..."

"Or suicide attempts..." Sam interrupts already turning back to the iPad. "Dean, you're fricking brilliant." He mumbles already lost in a world of a billion words. Dean huffs a laugh and motions for their check, paying and more than less pulling Sam from the restaurant and back to the car, Sam's lips moving silently as he reads.

"This is why we work together..." Dean snarks as he cranks up the impala, and Sam shoots him a distracted grin, hopefully they finally have a lead.

...

It's one-thirty in the afternoon by the time Sam finds something. The time having flown by for him, but he realizes he hasn't heard a peep from his brother since they got back to the room. He rubs hands down his face in a harsh, dry scrub and sighs with relief as he stands and his back and neck pop as he stretches.

He frowns, seeing both beds empty and knocks on the slightly ajar bathroom door, placing a hand flat on the wood pushing it open. He finds Dean standing in front of the mirror staring at himself with that same look, that same haunted aching expression from before. Sam's heart constricts and he swallows thickly and takes a step into the bathroom and glances into the mirror too half expecting to find something more there than just their reflections.

"Dean?" He asks, a hand landing on his arm gently, "What is it?"

Dean jumps even with both Sam's voice and touch warning him of his presence. His eyes go to Sam's hand on his arm and then slowly reach his face, the sad pain reflecting in them so terrible, the loneliness and hopelessness, Sam nearly takes a step back.

"Jesus Dean," he says under his breath, "What's going on with you?" He doesn't take his hand away, keeps it anchoring his brother with him and in front of him where Sam can look at him all his feelings and thoughts spread out and obvious.

Dean swallows thickly, ducks his head like he knows this but doesn't fight. Sam feels the slight shudder go through his frame. He shakes his head, looking back to the mirror and tilting his head at himself. "I just feel off..." he whispers simply, almost to himself. And Sam steps closer and looks into the mirror too. His eyes meeting Dean's reflected ones.

"How do you mean?" He asks, brows coming together in confusion.

"Just feel tired...and sad." Dean explains helplessly, doesn't how to explain it.

Sam raises a brow, "You mean depressed?"

Dean grunts in frustration and shakes his head looking away from the mirror, rubbing at his temples. "It doesn't feel like me...but it is me."

Sam shakes his head as he follows Dean out of the bathroom, "Are you okay though?" He asks, "What were you saying about stairs?" He arches a brow.

Dean looks disgruntled and annoyed by Sam not understanding him, he shrugs though seeming to shake his mantle of sadness off too and sends Sam a sharp look, "I'm fine, crazy goat dude just pushed me over the banister, that's how he got me in the first place."

Sam swallows thickly shifting his stance nervously as Dean sits down more slowly than usual, holding his breath...maybe Sam was just paranoid and imagining it. "You fell an entire floor." He says flatly, feeling anger of his own starting to bubble up.

Dean shrugs, fingers rubbing at his eyes. "I guess...I don't know Sam, I was kinda busy not getting eaten by an actual goat monster to really think about it afterwards."

"You could have died," Sam says, his voice low, "You almost did."

Dean rolls his eyes, "Aw c'mon Sam, it wasn't like that you were there...it was just my head had a little fall that was all, no harm done. I'm a little sore but believe me if I was internally bleeding I probably wouldn't have the strength to rage at you and be a general dick, right?"

He waits for Sam to think and then he gives a cold grin, "Right. Now, what did you find?"

Sam clears his throat and wipes his hands off on his jeans, guesses this isn't really time for bro and bro moments with innocent people still living in a haunted house. He goes to sit across from Dean on the foot of his bed, letting nervous fingers brush through his slightly disheveled mop of hair.

"So get this, you were right. Three years to the date that the Warren's bought the house their daughter, Kathy, was admitted to the El Jebel hospital with diagonal lacerations on her wrists. Attempted suicide. She survived which is why it doesn't show up on the record. Looks like we have a pattern."

Dean nods but grunts unsatisfied, leaning with his elbows on his knees, "Sliced wrists though?"

Sam shakes his head shrugging, "I know different MO, but like you said...we don't believe in coincidences. It was three years to the day."

"And was Madeline three years to the day for the Ross'?" Dean asks.

Sam nods, "Yep."

"Do the Warren's still live around?" Dean asks rising.

Sam shakes his head, "They relocated to Maryland, about the farthest away from here you can get."

Dean snorts a laugh through his nose, "Don't blame them, especially if like Stacy Ross they were aware of something darker in the house. But it kind of leaves us with a another dead end."

Sam grins holding up his iPad, motioning towards the door, "Fortunately for us, Wendy Lowry, the original owner of the house still lives right around here. Maybe she can tell us when and who abandoned that house in the first place."

Dean nods and jumps up following Sam out the door, "Or more importantly why?"

...

When the the brothers pull up in front of the small brick house out in the country they both exchange glances, quickly putting their badges away and slipping their dress coats off. Generally people like this reacted less well to the authorities. Dean leads the way his gait easy, shoulders more relaxed the warm breeze soothing over his headache and helping him forget the foreboding feelings he'd been experiencing.

He can feel Sam behind him, more aware of each other right now then they'd been in a while. The recent struggles having them hanging on tighter than ever, even if Dean was angry about his picture and Sam about not being told about the stairs. Dean smirks having expected the reaction, cursing himself for allowing himself to say something so thoughtless. Should have thought better than to freak Sam out even more.

Since they'd gone to the Ross' house this morning he'd lost a lot of steam. His anger was all but gone, frankly he was just tired, bone deep, soul deep tired. And he couldn't explain it. His body still ached, his head and eyes especially as well as his bad knee...he wanted to reach out for Sam but felt like he had no right after the way he'd yelled at him.

He was mostly convinced Sam hadn't had anything to do with the disappearance of his photo, in fact he'd mostly forgotten with the cold, sad shadows in his mind and blurriness of his thoughts...the sluggishness with which they floated around in his mind. Suddenly he feels an urgency to take care of this while he has time, while he's thinking about it...can't really even explain his feelings doesn't really understand what's happening inside him, but he just knows he and Sam need to be in the clear.

He stops, turning back to his little brother and placing a rougher than meant to be hand on his chest. Sam stops abruptly with him, big hazel eyes jumping to his with a question and alertness. Dean softens as he looks to Sam, feels safety, warmth and trust flooding his confused, aching insides.

"Dean, you alright?" Sam asks, worry filling his eyes, one of his hands grabbing securely onto Dean's arm.

"Yeah," he says, sending Sam a grin, "Yeah I'm fine, I just. I need to say, I, I know you didn't take the picture." Dean watches as Sam all but melts, his eyes turning into gooey caramel and the hand on his arm twisting to fist Dean's shirt.

"And I'm sorry for yelling at you and not believing you."

"It's alright, it's alright," Sam whispers, "It's forgotten."

Dean swallows thickly around the lump in his throat and nods jerkily, sending Sam a smile...

"Lets hope she didn't just witness our chick flick moment out the window." Sam teases, with the happiest smile he's had in days.

Dean snorts as they step up on the porch and he knocks on the door, "Small town, old lady...you best bet she lives in her window, Sammy boy."

Sam grins so hard it looked like his face would split and Dean smiles back, swearing he'll never again blame Sam for something even if it was his fault. Dean can't explain it but his soul rests easier and he feels something inside him resign without his permission, feels a contented apathy take hold in his heart...this was everything he wanted.

Considering the case they were working on...shouldn't that scare the hell out of me? He asks himself.

...tbc

Couldn't have them mad at each other anymore it was literally killing me...omgoodness what is going on with Dean and this crazy case? REVIEW!? ;);)

Thank you for reading! :)

I'm aware that the first two chapters of this kind of dragged...sorry :(:/