Sam didn't tell Dean. He felt terrible for keeping secrets—he had kept the telepathy from Dean for a short while, and that had made him feel awful—but he had no choice. It wasn't necessarily that Sam thought these . . . powers . . . were evil. Though more and more, he thought they might be. When Max had tried to push Sam with his telepathy, it hadn't worked. And then Sam had stopped the bullet Max had shot, turning it around and sending it through Max's brain.

He hadn't meant to do it. At least, that was what Sam was telling himself so that he didn't go insane. Sam had caught the thought that Max was having—killing Dean to get to his step-mother—and had reacted.

But he was a killer. Dean couldn't know. Sam couldn't stand having Dean look at him like a freak, one of the monsters they killed.

"I need to hit the head." Dean shoved at Sam's shoulder. "Wait for me at the car."

Sam lived off of his brother's affection, and he wasn't willing to give that away. So he smiled blandly. "Don't get lost."

Dean guffawed. "Yeah, you're hilarious. Get out of here."

Sam was so lost in thought that he didn't even see the blow coming until it was too late.


Everything was spinning and syrupy and he was . . . Sam? That was his name. Maybe. Or maybe not. He ate human flesh and laughed at the whimpering cries of prey, he was the hunter incarnate and—

Dean. Sam ignored the other voices in his head and focused. He could find Dean.

He just had to . . . reach and oh it hurt he couldn't, Dean.

"Sammy? Sam, where are you, are you okay—" Sam swallowed back nausea "Please be okay, please."

"Dean."

"Sam?" There was fear, and Sam couldn't tell if it was his own or his brother's, was he afraid? Why would Dean be afraid, was he in a cage too?

"Dean."

"Sammy, I need you to focus. What hurts?"

Sam couldn't stop his emotions from spilling over, terror and fear and he was going to die. "Head." It throbbed.

"Okay, Sammy, focus. Focus on my voice. Now, where are you?"

"Cage." He was a freak, they were going to hunt him like the monster he was, he had always known—

There was a stab of refusal that didn't come from Sam, and he stopped.

"Sam. Please." There was a long silence, and then there was a vague sensation of worry

"Love you. In barn, dark, cold."Sam went silent—his head hurt so much he couldn't hold up he needed his shields—

There was someone in the cage next to him. Sam held his head cautiously and looked over. "Hello?"

"We're gonna die here."

Sam instantly hated his mind, full of despair and darkness and a bitterness that turned his thoughts sour.

"We'll get out," he said, his tongue stumbling over the words. His head hurt so much, he couldn't focus.

"Yeah right, kid."

"My brother. He'll . . . he'll find me."

The man laughed. "Uh huh. Just watch. I've been here a whole day. They haven't let me out, and at this point, I just hope they kill you before me."

One last surge of the man's bitterness allowed Sam the strength to put up his walls. He had to . . . he had to focus. That's what Dean told him to do. Sam tentatively tried to reach out again, but he had lost the uncontrollable surge of power that had enabled him to initially find Dean.

For the first time in a while, Sam was completely alone.


Time passed in strange long segments. Sam thought he was probably experiencing some bad side effects from having his head hit. Maybe. Everything was definitely off, though, and he and his fellow prisoner were not fed or given any water, which didn't help.

He was sitting in a daze when suddenly the other guy's latch was buzzed open. Sam sat up quickly, jolting his head and groaning.

"Did you do that?"

"No. I don't care what it is, but I'm getting out of here."

Sam grabbed at his own bars. "No, wait, it's probably a trap!"

"Yeah? Well, sorry but I don't care. This is my best shot."

"No!" Sam hissed, but the man was already leaving. Trembling, Sam opened his mind and latched onto the other man's. He ignored the terror and adrenaline, focusing on the surroundings. He had to know, so he could tell Dean.

All too soon, the man was chased into the forest. The sheer amount of fear rolling off of him was channelled straight through Sam, his own breathing speeding up and his palms sweaty where they clutched the bars.

Sam felt him die and heard the shot simultaneously, crashing back into his own mind with an overwhelming sense of desperate fear.


Sam was lost in a strange space of sickness and fear when he felt Dean's mind again. Immediately he reached out, desperately latching on and trying to make sure he was real. He could sense Dean's inability to cope with Sam's overwhelming presence, so he tried to pull himself back.

"Dean!" DeanDeanDeanDeanaliveneedyou.

"Sammy, I'm almost to you, hold on, relax."

With effort, Sam was able to control his telepathy. He sobbed in a deep breath and focused himself. "Where are you?"

"Coming towards you, buddy. Focus. Where are you?"

"Barn." Sam strengthened their link so Dean could follow it to him. Dean drew closer and closer, and then finally, finally, Dean was there.

"Hey Sammy. It is good to see you, little brother."

"Dean," Sam said with far too much desperation.

Dean's facade of lightheartedness faded away, and his brother put his hand on top of Sam's where the bars allowed him to grip. "Hey. No worries, we'll get you out of here."

"It's automated, you need a key," Sam told him.

"Right. Wait here, I'll get it."

Panic surged up, sour in Sam's throat. "No! You can't, they'll kill you! They eat people, Dean, there are too many, you can't—"

"I've got back up, Sammy. Don't worry man, I've got this."

Sam watched, helpless, as Dean left. He followed Dean with his mind, ignoring the amused cues of Dean's mind as he noticed Sam was there.

He could only scream in rage and terror as Dean was taken by surprise, despite Sam's warnings. Sam observed through Dean's eyes as they heated up a poker and oh, no, they couldn't he wouldn't let them he had to stop, they had to get away from his brother

Sam woke up to Dean's hands on his shoulders, shaking him and a high pitched whining in his ears.

"Sa—Sammy, what did you do, you idiot. C'mon, snap out of it."

"Dean?" Sam mumbled. He wasn't sure what happened next, just that Dean managed to shuffle them out of there after talking to someone and stealing one of the junkers the cannibalistic family had used.

"You are a self-sacrificing idiot, and I swear if you do that again I will punch you in the face and then I will dye your hair green. You hear that? Green. Yeah. No, I lied, it's going to be pink. Because you are a moron."

Sam tried to ask him what he was talking about, but only managed to set off something fiery and painful in his brain. He whimpered, clutching at his head.

"That doesn't mean rip out your hair, Sam, stop! Dude, c'mon, relax. Don't think about anything. Uh, think about puppies. And dinosaurs, you used to be obsessed with dinosaurs."

Sam blinked, attempting to focus on Dean. "Wha' happened?"

"What happened is that you're an idiot!"

"Huh?" Sam tried to make sense of Dean's words, but it wasn't working.

"You stopped them, Sam. Stopped them dead still, like they were frozen."

"Wha—"

"Look, don't think about it. Sammy, you're going to hurt yourself, I know that look. C'mon, focus on something calm."

"Calm," Sam repeated dumbly. One of Dean's hands rested on his head while the other was on the wheel. "Calm. You hurt?"

"Thanks to you, no. Sleep, Sam."

Sam had far too many questions, but he couldn't help but obey his brother when he used that tone.


He woke up with a splitting headache and too many questions to handle, Dean at his side.

"Alright Sam. Before you have an aneurysm. Focus. What did you do while you were in the cage?"

"When?" Sam rubbed his forehead wearily.

"When I went in the house."

"I don't . . . I don't know. Why?"

"Because as soon as they got near me with a burning poker, you stopped them," Dean said softly.

Sam could definitively tell the blood was draining away from his face. "I killed them?"

"No, no, don't pass out." Dean's eyes were vibrant green, not the washed out fear Sam was expecting. "They just . . . froze. Long enough for the cop to come in and get me out."

"Cop?"

Dean grinned. "Took a bit to convince her I wasn't crazy and that you were psychic. I'm pretty sure that stunt figured her."

Sam automatically returned to his the subject of his powers. "Froze?"

"Like time stopped."

Sam shuddered. "I didn't even . . . I didn't try to do that."

Dean's face went serious. "I know. You nearly killed yourself. You can't do that again."

Sam made up his mind. "No more powers."

Dean paused. "Wait, you mean—"

"Not at all. Not for anything. We saw how Max used his powers, and now this—these powers may be good or evil, we don't know, but it's too much power. I won't use them anymore."

Dean frowned. "I thought it was hard for you to shield?"

"I'll deal with it."

"You're sure?" Dean was completely aligned to Sam, attention in every line of his body.

"I'm positive," Sam said determinedly.

"Unless it's an emergency, Sam," Dean clarified. "If you're in danger."

Sam bit his lip. "Yeah," he lied. But in his own mind, he rephrased, "if Dean's in danger."


A/N: I can't decide exactly how I'm going to end this. Should I kill someone? *evil laugh*

I'm too much of a sap to do that though. In any case, we're a decent portion through, I think. Hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought :)