Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural

After a having breakfast or, rather, pretending to have had one (As Sam at only a toast and despite ordering a big breakfast had just played with the food on his plate) boys decided to head to the place where the woman had drowned. It wasn't difficult. Recent suicide was the only thing people around were talking about. They didn't even need to ask and invent a reason to why they were interested in her death – eavesdropping was more than enough.

They were standing on the bridge.

"Yes" Sam muttered. "I… I saw it in my vision, Dean. This bridge".

"Yeah… Well… I sort of guessed it already", Dean spat only realising what he had said after the words were already said.

"Sorry, Sam", Dean said immediately after seeing a hurt look in his bother's eyes.

"It's okay" Sam sighed. He didn't want to argue with Dean about such a stupid thing. After all he still remembered the state his brother was in just a day ago. They didn't need a relapse.

"So, what do we do now?" Sam shifted discussion to the more or less safer grounds.

"The usual. Say we are writers. Ask about this woman", Dean shrugged.

After 4 hours of talking to different people, Dean and Sam knew no more than they knew after talking to Kitty.

"Nothing", Sam growled. "Absolutely nothing. A downright suicide. And that's it".

"Apart from the dreams she had mentioned to a waitress in a café", Dean added. "It doesn't ring a bell to you, huh?"

Sam sighed: "It does, Dean. Apart from the fact that then the victims were just told to do something. And they did it with a smile on their faces. And there were no dreams!"

"But we might as well check whether anybody's mother here had died in a fire?" Dean shrugged.

After a trip to the library archives they found…erm…nothing. Nothing in the last twenty or so years.

They were sitting in a café, angry, tired and exhausted.

"Sam, you have to eat something", Dean said for the fiftieth time in one day.

Sam just ignored him.

"Sammy, stop beating yourself about her death. It wasn't your fault!" Dean said tiredly. God, he didn't have enough strength to do it. His voice didn't carry any conviction and not because he thought the opposite of what he was saying but because he was just so tired.

"It was," Sam said matter-of-factly. "But it's not just that. Do you remember any situation like this when only one death had happened? NO! You don't. There is more to come".

So what? Dean wanted to shout but beat his tongue just in time. It meant one more vision. One more guilt on his baby brother's shoulders. One more innocent life. One more kid with abilities turned into something evil. And they didn't know were to look.

Sam closed his eyes willing himself to stay calm. He owed it to Dean. He'll stay collected no matter how scared he is of the next vision. He knew that it will come when he won't expect it. It will bring pain, guilt and exhaustion. And there was nothing he could do to prevent them from coming. There was nothing Dean could do to help him here. So, he could just as well stop putting extra weight on Dean's shoulders but think about their next move/

He opened his eyes, looked at Dean, whose worried eyes were staring at him, and gave Dean a weak smile. And that's when they overheard a conversation at a nearby table.

"Oh, you don't look so well Charlotta. Does anything bother you?" two women in there sixties were sitting at a nearby table.

One of them looked really tired and exhausted. "Like that woman who killed herself", Dean though absently.

"Oh, nothing really, Theresa. It's just the suicide of Anabelle Clark and her bahaviour in the past weeks disturbing my thoughts and sleep. That's all. It's just so unnerving to know a person for almost 10 years and then… I have no idea why she did it… And I even started having stupid dreams myself…"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances.

An hour later they returned in their motel room. And that's when the vision came. A sharp pain hit Sam's head and he got hold of the wall, slowly slipping down on the floor.

A woman was sitting in the kitchen with the knife in her hands. Tears were running down her cheeks.

"Yes, Betsy. Yes. I am doing it for you. I should have done this a long time ago, my poor girl", and than she slashed her throat.

Dean was sitting on the floor, hugging Sam to his chest. Again. It came again. And there was nothing he could do to help his baby brother apart from waiting until the vision stopped. Sam came to his senses but kept gripping his head for a couple of minutes afterwards. Dean stroked his hair silently. Finally, Sam moved away from Dean and got up.

"It's that woman from the café, Dean…", he whispered. "She had a calendar in the kitchen. It's tomorrow…"

Not the most exciting chapter, I know. Still, review!!! I was so delighted with reviews for the previous chapter!!! Keep this up, guys!

adriana – Yeah. The review was annonymous. Don't worry, it doesn't matter. Thanks for reviewing!