"No cuts at all- no sign of them!"

Sam looked down, slightly confused, his voice still quiet and unsure. "Oh, I… I thought I'd imagined that. You said..." his voice trailed off.

Dean shook his head, still staring at the spot on Sam's belly that only minutes ago he'd seen covered with blood. The stains on his shirt were still there, but there wasn't a scratch on him.

Dean pulled his shirt back down and ran a hand over his face. "Ok. This is normal."

"What do you think-"

Dean shook his head again. "No clue."

"So...what do I have?" Sam asked.

"What?" Dean asked, still distracted by the mysterious disappearance of Sam's cuts.

"You said you know what's wrong with me."

"Oh- uh, right..." Dean brought his gaze up to Sam's face, noting with concern how exhausted and disheveled he looked. He reached out absently and brushed some of Sam's damp hair back into place. He was rewarded with a swatting hand from an appropriately annoyed little brother. Dean sighed, slightly relieved by the sudden, but brief return of a bit of Sam's spirit. "We think you have ghost sickness."

"What?"

"Yeah, not the kind I had, though," Dean hurried to explain when he saw the look of fear cross Sam's face. "You got the Navajo kind- it's different. You got a lot longer than 24 hours."

"A lot?"

"Well… more."

Sam didn't look reassured.

"Hey," Dean said, gripping his shoulder. "We're gonna figure this out, ok? Jody's already on her way to get a healer-"

"A healer?" Sam's eyebrows rose.

"Yeah, a... medicine man. Shaman. Whatever they're called. Far as she can tell, that's our best bet. He already helped one kid, so I think it's worth a shot. Now listen, you've been… I don't know, spacing out on me every once in a while. Not recognizing me. You remember anything about that? "

Sam shook his head, leaning back against the pillow. His eyelids drooped. "N-no. Not really. I mean, other than being freaking terrified."

"Ok, but why are you terrified? What are you afraid of?"

"I don't know." Sam was looking mildly embarrassed now and Dean sensed he was on the verge of shutting down.

"Sam," he said gently. "I know you don't really want to have a caring and sharing session about your feelings, but right now, the only information I have to go on is whatever you tell me. Jody's doing the best she can, but any information we can give her would probably help."

Sam bit his lip and sighed, closing his eyes. "Ok...I know. I just… I really don't remember all that much. When you found me in the woods, I was really surprised to see you. Like really surprised. I mean, you rescue me all the time and I'm always relieved, but never surprised that you came."

"So, you mean surprised like you were thinking I wouldn't bother to come find you?"

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know how else to explain it. And, I remember..." Sam's eyebrows knitted together, thinking. "having trouble breathing."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, you kept saying that. Jody thinks you're reliving Shialah's memories and we're thinking it's pretty likely he died of pneumonia or an infection, exposure, or a combination of a whole bunch of crap."

"So, all this stuff that keeps showing up and then disappearing," Sam waved his hand over his blood stained shirt. "That's stuff that happened to him?"

"Probably."

"And when you get me to believe that it's not really happening to me-"

"Then it goes away," Dean's eyes widen slightly and he nods. "Like the bruises, and the breathing and now the cuts. As long as I can keep convincing you that this is your reality… then maybe we're good?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe."

"Well, then I guess that's what we'll do till Jody gets here." Dean breathed out a sigh. "You hungry? Actually, forget I asked. You- we -haven't eaten for hours, so the answer is yes. I'm going to go check out the kitchen and see what I can find. You good for a minute?"

Sam forced a scowl and rolled his eyes. "Of course," was what he said. 'Hell no' was what he thought.

Dean patted his knee and wandered into the kitchen where he gave Sam a rundown of the contents of each cupboard.

The wind screamed outside. Sam huddled under the blankets and counted his breaths. He watched the flames dancing in the fireplace and listened to his brother's voice rattling off a grocery list of items as exhaustion settled in and his eye lids got heavy. Dean was just in the kitchen. He was 20 feet away, if that. But Sam could feel the fever starting to burn and the air getting harder to take in. He tried to focus, tried to remember what Dean had said, that his reality was not full of pain and sickness. Reality was here, in the warm, clean cabin with his brother just in the next room fixing them something to eat.

But… his brother was… gone. And he was alone. Wasn't he? Sam tried hard to focus, but other thoughts, other memories that weren't his own kept creeping in Yes... he was alone. He was certain of it.

And there was the pain. The pain he hadn't told Dean about. The pain that didn't go away when everything else did. It had been slowly building since this whole thing began. It had started as a headache, then it grew into a full body ache, like all his muscles where tying themselves in knots. He hadn't told Dean because he was sure it would just go away or at least not get any worse. But now the pain was immense. And now he couldn't tell him because Dean was gone. Not that Dean would care. Dean was the one who had locked him in here to begin with. Dean had left him and he wasn't coming to get him. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he tried to shake off the thoughts that only moments ago weren't true. But the images and feelings just grew stronger. His brother was gone. He was alone… wait, no! Sam realized with sudden horror that no, he was not alone. There was that man. The one that would come and make sure he couldn't get away. The one who might hurt him again-

Sam startled when he felt hands on his shoulders and realized he must've dozed off.

"Sammy?" Dean was there suddenly, hovering over him. His worried voice washed through Sam like a breath of air he hadn't been able to quite take in. "What's going on, kiddo? You dreaming? Your heart's goin' a mile a minute," Dean said, pressing a hand up to Sam's chest. "You need to calm down."

Dean… Sam squeezed his eyes shut and cleared his mind as best he could. He tried to let out his breath, but his relief was short lived. The pain was still there. Sam swallowed hard and shoved it down, masking the agony he knew would be written all over his face if he didn't get it together. But while he could hide the fact that he was in pain, he couldn't seem to get control of the fear. He was surprised when he tried to speak and only a desperate, soft sound of distress passed through his lips. He reached out and clung to Dean's shirt sleeve.

"Hey, I'm right here, bud," he whispered, closing his hand over Sam's. Dean was sitting up against his side and leaning over him so he was the only thing in Sam's line of sight, like a mother bird with wings folding over her young. Sam almost laughed at the thought, but instead he took a deep breath and tried to speak again. "How… how long was I asleep?"

"You were out cold a couple hours. I was gonna wake you up and feed you but-"

The image of the mother bird again finally forced a weak chuckle out of Sam. He knew the hovering should annoy him, but right now he welcomed it.

Dean frowned. "What?"

Sam shook his head. "N-nothing. I just… would have guessed a few minutes."

"Yeah, well, you'd be wrong. Stay put, I've got some dinner for you."

The minute he moved to stand up, Sam tightened his grip on Dean's sleeve.

Dean sat back down. "Dude. I'm just going to the kitchen. Ok?"

Sam dropped his gaze, embarrassed and let go of Dean's arm. When he finally chanced a look at his brother's face, he saw only gentle concern.

"I'll be right back… just going to heat up some food for you. I made you something good, ok?" Dean stood slowly and drew the covers up over Sam's shoulders.

Sam bit back a groan as he laid his head back on the pillow. He tried to focus on the smell of clean blankets, the warmth of the hand pressed reassuringly up against his chest.

"Relax, but don't fall asleep on me this time, ok? Because I will wake your ass up, got it?"

And then the warmth was gone and the pain intensified. Sam watched as Dean walked back into the kitchen and put something in the microwave. Then he saw Dean reach in his back pocket for his phone. He tried to quell the panic as Dean put the phone to his ear and stepped out of sight.

"Dean, how is he?" Jodi's voice was a comfort. Almost the way Bobby's had been.

"He's about the same. What about on your end? Did you find the healer?"

There was a long sigh that Dean did not like the sound of. "I did, but he's refusing to come with me."

"Refusing? What do you mean?"

Jody lowered her voice. "Dean, I swear, I'm about two seconds from taking him to the car at gun point. I'm out in the driveway right now. His grandson Jeremy is inside trying to talk some sense into him, but man, he is one stubborn S.O.B. He says he's here to help his people and that's it. Apparently, he's carrying a hundred and fifty year old grudge, or something."

Dean clenched his teeth angrily and ran a hand down his face.

"I'm not giving up, I'm just giving you an update," Jodi promised. "Now, you said Sam's still ok? Is he having weird wounds showing up for no reason?"

"Yeah, but then they disappear. Seems I can kind of 'talk him out of it', I guess."

"Yes, that's just what Jeremy described. He's been trying to learn what he can from his grandfather, but doesn't know all the tricks of the trade quite yet. So he's ok other than that? He's not in pain?"

"In pain? What do you mean?" Dean felt a sudden fear creeping into his veins.

"Jeremy has been telling me about some of the victims. He said that ghost sickness causes intense pain in addition to the fear. And it's not related at all to the memories, it's just the body's reaction to that level of stress."

Dean shot a glance to the living room where Sam was moving around uncomfortably on the couch. "Ok, listen. Do me a favor and call the hotel and ask for a guy named Marcus. See if he can make some progress with your healer. I need a minute and then I'll call you back." Dean hung up the phone without waiting to hear anything else. He approached the bed and squatted down in front of Sam.

"Look at me."

Sam forced his eyes to meet Dean's and that was when Dean saw it. Sam was putting up a front. How had he missed it? Dean berated himself, but only for a moment. Right now, he had bigger things to worry about than blame. Right now, Sam was masking pain, but his walls were starting to crumble.

"Sammy, are you hurting?"

Sam closed his eyes wearily in a way he intended to look like exasperation."Dean, I'm f-"

"So help me God, if you say 'I'm fine'-"

Sam closed his mouth and clenched his jaw.

"Sam," Dean swallowed and glared at Sam. "Tell me."

There was a long, long silence as Sam stubbornly held Dean's gaze. It was a silence in which Dean could hear every word that Sam's lips did not speak, but his eyes screamed. I'm in agony! It hurts so much. I want to tell you, but...

Finally, the tears began to well in his eyes and Sam nodded. His voice betrayed him as he forced out the words. "H-hurts... Dean..."

Dean reached out and took Sam's face in his hands. "Sammy. You need to tell me this stuff, little brother. You need to let me help you-"

"Kept thinking it would stop... but it's not."

"Ok,crap. Now you're burning up," Dean growled as he gently felt the sides of Sam's face.

Sam closed his eyes.

"All right, stay with me here. Listen," Dean demanded and Sam wearily opened his eyes. Dean ran his hand over Sam's forehead and into his hair. "Remember what we talked about? The whole reality thing? You're not supposed to have a fever, Sam. It's the ghost sickness making you think that. You're not really sick- no fever."

Dean sat with him like that for several minutes, just repeating the mantra that Sam was fine and that he didn't have a fever until the phone vibrated.

"Jody?" Dean asked into the phone, not taking his eyes off Sam, still running a hand over his hair and softly repeating, "You're fine, no fever. You're ok."

Jody could hear him, but knew what he was doing. "Well, you were right. Marcus was the ace in the hole. Did he say anything about 'monster slayers' to you?"

"Yeah, he seemed to know we were hunters or something. Called us 'Monster Slayers'. I don't know, it seemed important."

Jodi could tell that no matter how important it was, something far more important was occupying Dean's attention at the moment. "He's not doing too well, is he?"

"That pain thing you mentioned?" Dean mumbled and Jody could hear the self loathing in his voice for not noticing it on his own.

"Ok, Dean. We're on our way," then she added. "you don't happen to know anything about acupuncture, do you?"

"What? No, why?"

"I didn't think so. Jeremy says you can relieve most of the pain with acupuncture."

"I am not doing that to him!"

"I know. I know. Listen, hang in there, I'm gonna get there as soon as I can."

By the time Dean ended the call, Sam's fever was gone, but he was shifting uncomfortably on the bed and breathing heavily.

"Doing what?" Sam managed to ask.

"Nothing. You're still hurting, aren't you?"

Sam nodded, eyes squeezed shut. "It's not going away. Why-"

"Yeah, unfortunately, that's all you," Dean said as he sat on the edge of the sofa bed again, leaning over him. "Don't worry, we're gonna make you feel better, ok? Tell me what hurts."

Sam looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears. Part of it was the pain, but part of it was just... Dean. Being so kind to him. Treating him like the cherished little brother again. Like the whole not-looking-for-him-in-Purgatory thing had never happened. It was ripping at Sam's heart, but he couldn't think to deeply about it for very long because the pain was overwhelming. "Everything. My head, neck, shoulder are the worst...lights... too bright… why won't it stop like everything else?"

"That's not part of Shilah's memories. That's your body is reacting to all the crap it thinks it's going through." Dean got up and lit some of the candles on a table on the far side of the room then turned off all the other lights. Sam could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen and heating something in the microwave. Sam prayed it wasn't food.

Dean returned to the living room and set something down on the back or the sofa bed. He was in I-have-a-plan mode which gave Sam just a glimmer of hope.

"Ok, I'm gonna need you to lie the other way. Feet at that end," Dean said softly motioning for Sam to lie down along the back of the sofa bed as though it were still just a sofa. "I won't be able to reach your neck over the back of this thing."

Sam was too exhausted to argue, ask questions and move his body all at once so he opted to just follow Dean's instructions and move in hopes that some relief was in his future.

"All right, can we try some heat on this?" Dean asked when Sam was lying down again. He moved to the arm of the sofa, right behind Sam's head and sat down on a chair he'd pulled over. He lifted Sam's head and placed a heated pillow on the back of his neck.

"Mmmm..." Sam let out a soft whimper.

"Easy... just lie back... we can do ice instead if-"

"No- n-no... this is good."

"Yeah? Ok... good. I saw that pillow thing in the freezer while I was looking for dinner. Which you will be eating soon. Figured it was some girly thing that could be used hot or cold for aches and pains. Just what you need. It's like they designed this place with you in mind."

"You're the one that noticed it and knew what it was for." Sam accused.

"I notice everything. It's what good hunters do." Except that I totally missed how much you were hurting.

Sam flinched as he felt a gentle pressure on his temples.

"Relax," Dean murmured. "I'm just going to try a little pressure here and see how that feels, ok? We're gonna start here and work our way around whatever hurts."

"Hhmmf..." Sam let out a soft, pained sound again as Dean pressed gently into his temples in small, circular motions. He worked his way carefully back to the base of Sam's skull slowly increasing the pressure as he went along.

"Ok, I know... c'mon, just relax. It might hurt a little at first, but let's see if it starts feeling better..."

Sam steadied his breathing.

"Atta boy, deep breaths..."

Sam breathed through the initial pain and then the knotted muscles began to unwind. Dean smiled slightly as he watched the creases in Sam's forehead start to disappear. "Better?" he asked.

"Mmmm...Yeah...s'better..." Sam breathed. He could have cried at the relief. " S'this what Jody told you to do?"

"No. Jody said we could use acupuncture, but I thought deep tissue massage might be the next best thing. I couldn't find any needles."

Sam couldn't stop the laugh that came out, even though it sent a shock wave of pain through his head. "My lucky day." His speech was almost slurring with contentment.

"You're damn right it's your lucky day. Do you know how uncomfortable this is making me? I would have been much happier if I'd gotten to stick you with a crap load of needles." Dean tried to sound annoyed, but he was also trying to keep his voice as quite as he could, which kind of diluted the annoyance.

"Where'd... you learn... how t'do th's?" Sam mumbled. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he was in so much pain that anything would feel good, or if Dean really knew what he was doing. He was leaning towards the latter.

Dean chuckled. "Sammy. Don't tell me you've never dated a massage therapist before. Because if you haven't, you have no idea what you're missing." He pressed his thumb deeper into the muscles in the back of Sam's neck. Sam bit back a moan of relieved contentment, knowing his brother might be just disturbed enough by that to stop what he was doing.

Sam let out a soft sigh instead as he tried to get the words out. He was starting to fall asleep. "... you dated... a-"

"Three. I went out with three different ones. I faked a lot of back pain. And other things," Dean added slyly.

Sam made a sound that was somewhere between a disgusted groan and a contented sigh. "Please tell me not all at once."

Dean laughed softly.

"Actually... no," Sam breathed. "Just don' tell me an'thin... 'm just starting to feel better... Don' wanna ruin it..." He was trying so hard to stay awake, but he was finally feeling such relief. He was finally feeling relaxed.

"I won't tell you anything," Dean whispered, focusing carefully on his task. "We're just gonna get you feeling better and see if we can keep it that way."

There was no way Sam could fight sleep and within minutes, he was out again.