A/N: I've never been very good at author's notes, so here they go. Just wanted to let anyone who's reading that this story is a full 27 chapters, or maybe it was 28, can't remember. I hope that everyone that's reading it enjoys it, and fell free to tell me so. I love nothing more then reading comments, either good or bad. Thanks for reading, and have a great day!

Chapter 7

Dean's eyes slowly opened, being met by nothing but darkness as he tried to focus on the world around him. Throwing off the blanket covering him, he swung his legs off the bed and firmly planted his feet on the floor. Rising and shuffling in the direction of the bathroom, he flipped the switch, lighting the one, lone, dim bulb in the row of four. He stood at the toilet, oblivious to the crimson shade of the stream hitting the water inside. Finally empty, he leaned against the sink and carefully studied himself in the mirror, not caring for the reflection coming back at him. His face was pale, his eyes sunken in and dull, and he still had spots of blood in various places across his forehead. Turning on the water, he cupped his hands under the flow, letting them fill, and splashed the water against his face in an effort to clear his head.

He felt the rigid body behind him, crushing him between it and the sink, and grabbing him by the forehead. Jerking his head violently and forcing him up straight, Dean stared in awe at the new reflection in the mirror. He opened his mouth, only one word escaping as a wide grin spread across his brother's face, the knife that was carving a bloody smile across his throat reflecting the single, solitary bulb above the sink.

"Sam!"

The shriek woke Sam instantly, as he watched his brother thrash violently in his bed, fists swinging at nothing. He leapt the short distance between the two of them and grabbed Dean's arms, trying to hold him down.

"Dean, wake up!" He screamed, his words falling on totally deaf ears.

The more Sam tried restraining him, the harder he fought, fists swinging wildly in every direction. Jay came running from the bathroom at the sounds of the screams and the struggle.

"Oh my god Sam, what's wrong? I just went to the bathroom for a minute."

"Help me hold him down!" Sam barked, unable to control Dean himself. Bruised and battered, he still had the strength of an ox on steroids.

Jay grabbed Dean's left arm, pinning it to the bed with a strength truly surprising Sam, as he pinned down Dean's right. Arms immobile, he continued fighting them, legs kicking, but connecting with nothing. He jerked his head and chest so hard trying to escape, Sam thought he was going to add whiplash to his already long list of injuries.

"Let me go! Get off me! I swear to God, I'll kill you Sam!" Dean screamed, fighting with every ounce of strength he had. "SAM, NO! Please Sam, please,,,"

Sam was scared now. Whatever nightmare Dean was having, he appeared to be trapped inside, and Sam had to find a way to bring his brother out of it. Holding him down was becoming more and more difficult, and if he couldn't wake Dean soon, this situation would only go from bad to worse, real fast. Add that to the fact that Dean had just threatened to kill Sam, and they had the makings of a disaster. In the calmest, softest voice Sam could muster, he spoke to his brother, not really sure if he was even getting through to him.

"Dean, please, calm down. No one is hurting you. You need to relax before you hurt yourself."

The more Sam spoke, the less Dean flailed. Sam noticed it right away, and just kept talking, trying to sound even calmer yet.

"Dean, you're having a nightmare. Come on man, just wake up, and it will be all over. Please Dean, you're really scaring me."

Sam must have said the magic words, because Dean's body relaxed, almost to the point of being totally limp, his breathing coming in short, strained gasps. As Dean's eyes slowly started to flutter open, Sam let go of his arm, and Jay did the same. As some sense of normalcy started coming back into the room, Sam continued to talk to him.

"Dean, look at me. You need to relax. Take deep breaths, calm down."

Dean tried as best he could to see his brother, but his glazed eyes just wouldn't focus on anything farther then a few inches from is face. He reached out his hand, and Sam took it, assuring his brother that he was really there beside him. He tried to control his breathing, each breath becoming deeper, longer, more relaxed, until he was finally able to breathe normally. Sam was finally able to relax a little too.

"You ok now?"

"No, not really," the sigh was deep, the signs of pain returning to Dean's haggard face.

"Want to tell me what that was all about?"

"No, not really," the response worked the first time, why not use it again. Dean knew he could stall all he wanted, but eventually, Sam would drag it all out of him.

Sam knew Dean was being evasive, and decided to switch tactics. "Your head still hurt?"

"Does a chicken have feathers?"

"Not when it's breaded and deep fried."

"Yeah, well right now, it's hanging out in the hen house, laying eggs."

"That bad, huh? How about your back?"

"What about my back?" The look on Dean's face told Sam his brother was hiding something.

"Dean, you have, like, a size fifteen boot print tattooed on your back, and an extra seven stitches in your head. What the hell happened after I left, and don't tell me nothing, because it was obviously something."

"Sam, really, it was no…'

"DEAN!" Sam hollered, his accompanying scowl so deep his brows had become one. Dean knew he wasn't getting out of anything now.

"Fine. After I called you, I felt like taking a shower, no big deal. I got a little light-headed when I got out, that's all," at least, that's all Dean intended on telling Sam.

"That's all. You got a little light-headed, smashed your head against the mirror, fell on your ass, then cracked your head on the floor. That's what you're trying to tell me? Bullshit, I know there's something you're not telling me Dean, so spill it. You asked my why I kicked you. Why would you think I kicked you?"

"When did I ask you that?" Damn it, I have a big mouth when I'm incoherent, he thought to himself.

"Right before you passed out and I stitched your head back up."

"I thought I saw something in the mirror, then, I'd swear someone kicked me, then everything went dark. That's all I remember until now. I must have been having a weird flashback from last night, that's all. Stop over dramatizing this Sam, it really was nothing." Yeah, because seeing your brother in a mirror before someone kicks your ass, and then dreaming about him slitting your throat is nothing,

"What did you see Dean? In the mirror?"

"You. I thought I saw you Sam."

Sam had been so focused on his brother, he forgot Jay was still there, until she cleared her throat innocently.

"Oh god, Jay, I'm sorry. Dean, you remember Jay, don't you?"

"I don't know how I could forget, but I guess I did. How much of that did you see, anyway?" Dean couldn't hide the embarrassment on his face.

"Oh, I didn't see a thing," she smiled.

"What about your two sisters, the one on your left and the one on your right?"

"Don't worry, they didn't see anything either."

"Dean, you really don't see three of her, do you? How many fingers am I holding up?"

Sam made the peace sign, staring Dean in the eyes, noticing how unfocused they really were.

"Which hand Sam? I count six fingers, three hands. Pretty sure that's not right, but it'll have to do for now."

"Listen Sam, I think I'm gonna go, it's pretty late. I'll call you in the morning."

"Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to leave on my account. Sam here is done interrogating me anyway, aren't you, Sammy?"

Face turned to Dean, he answered, in a matter of fact tone of voice, "No, I'm not." Switching his focus to Jay, he told her, "I'll walk you to the door."

"That's ok, I'll show myself out," she planted a wet kiss across Sam's lips before she left, "Good night Sam."

Finally alone, Dean knew he had to tell Sam what he was dreading to bring up. He just thanked god that Sam didn't bring it up before.

"Sam, about that nightmare. It kinda started out with THAT dream, you know the one, gotta piss, then you do, in the dream I mean, but then…you know."

"Dean, you didn't?"

"Yeah, I think I did, and I think I need another shower."

"You're having triple vision, and you want to take a shower. NO WAY. I'll put you in my bed, and you're staying there until you see only one of me. No argument."

"Bitch," flew Dean's favorite insult.

"Jerk," Sam retorted, as he pulled the blankets off his brother, eyes wide when he saw the red stains across the sheets. "Dean, I really think you need to see a doctor."

Hearing the soft knock on the door, Sam grabbed the comforter, throwing it back over Dean, before heading to the door, cracking it open only slightly. Jay stood there, smiling the second she saw Sam's face.

"Sorry to bother you, but I have something I wanted to give you before I left. Please don't think I'm weird, or a druggie, but I had these left over from a broken foot a few months back. They're great for pain. Take them, you may need them. I'll call you tomorrow." Shoving the little brown bottle of Percocet into Sam's hands, she strolled back to her car, blowing Sam a kiss as she left.

Once a safe distance away, Jay pulled her phone from her pocket. Punching in the number she wanted, she made her conversation quick.

"It's me. Listen very carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. You don't make another move until I tell you to, you got that? You could have killed him, and the time's not right, not yet. Be patient, you'll get what you want, after I get what I want. You rush this, you'll ruin it for both of us. I've set the next step in motion, now we wait, you understand?" Getting the answer she obviously wanted, she ended her conversation with just one word.

"Good."