Sam paled, his eyes going huge. He backed away from Dean, bumping against the wall in his desperation. "Dean … what …"

But Dean turned his head to the side, toward the preacher. "Where?" He asked quietly.

Guyver paused thoughtfully, "The barn, I think. It's far away. Quiet. No one will hear."

Dean nodded, eyes downcast. He reached for Sam's arm, but the younger boy wrestled away, frantic.

"I'm not!" He said, "Dean, stop this. Don't … don't do this!"

Dean looked up then, into his brother's eyes, his expression unreadable. He spoke to Sam like he was talking to a child.

"You need to come with me, Sam. Do you understand? You have no choice now."

Sam shook his head desperately. "No! Dean! I don't! What? Are you going to just drag me across the encampment kicking and screaming? Cause I'm not just gonna let you quietly lead me off to some secluded barn someplace and do God knows what!"

"Sam. Don't."

"I can call for William," Guyver offered.

"No!" Dean was quick to argue. "I'll take care of it."

"Dean! Listen to yourself! You'll take care of IT? I'm not an IT, Dean, I'm your brother! You have to snap out of this … whatever!"

"Sam …"

"No, Dean! You want me gone? Fine! I'm gone. Take these off."

"Dean." Guyver cautioned. "Don't be misled. The restraints are needed. You know that."

"Shut up!" Sam practically screamed. "Leave him alone! Whatever you've … you've done to him, you're going to regret it! Do you hear me! I won't let this go! You can't have my brother!"

Guyver stepped forward then and whispered something in Dean's ear. The boy frowned and shook his head. "No. That's … no."

"It will be for the best, Dean. You'll see." Guyver spared a quick glance at Sam as he moved to the other room.

Suddenly, Sam had a terrible feeling he wasn't going to like whatever it was the preacher had just suggested. His eyes watered. "Dean," He pleaded. "Whatever he has in mind … don't … don't let them … Dean, please! Come on, take these off and I'll go. I promise!" He held up his hands, pleadingly.

Dean reached out and grasped the middle chain of the cuffs, resting his hand there. He looked into the younger boy's eyes. "It's … okay, Sam. I won't … you'll be … it's okay, alright?"

"No Dean! It's not! You have to let me out of these! I can't … I can't defend myself with these on! You know that! You know what he has planned!"

"Sam, I …" But Dean stopped as the door to the hallway opened and Jaime stepped inside. She carried a doctor's bag, bursting into a grin when she saw them.

"Hey!" She hurried over. "I wondered what happened to you two." She grinned, her gaze moving from Dean to Sam. Then her eyes fell on the cuffs, and her smile faded. "What's … what's going on?"

"Jaime! Run!" Sam warned. "You have to go! Get help!"

But she stood, frozen, looking from one to the other. "Sam? What …?"

"Jaime! Please! Go! It's not safe!"

"No, Sam … I'm not … not leaving you like … Dean? What's going on?"

Dean opened his mouth to speak, but Guyver beat him to it. He swept across the room to Jaime and cradled her head in both his hands, just like he'd done with Dean.

"Jaime! Thank you for coming so quickly. Did you bring the drug?"

Jaime looked confused. "Yes, of course." She replied, "You said you had a horse that needed …" But her voice trailed off as the preacher stared into her eyes. He repeated his incantation, and Sam watched in dismay as Jaime's spine straightened and a shudder wracked her slight form.

"I need you to administer the drug, Jaime. It's your mission. Can you do that?"

She nodded, confused, "Of course … I … of course."

"You know that you're here to keep our animals safe, right? We need you Jaime. If this …" He gestured widely, "This … our way of life is threatened, the animals will be put down. You don't want that, do you? That would be the opposite of what you've dedicated your life to doing, yes?"

She nodded.

He smiled, leading her gently to Sam. "That's my girl. Dean understands his mission too. Don't you, Dean? And he's willing to see it through, no matter how difficult it is. Can you do the same for us, Jaime?"

"I can … my mission …" She repeated, emotionless.

Guyver smiled, clapping his hands together gleefully. "Good! Then we agree. Jaime, I need you to administer the drug to Sam so that Dean can take him safely to the barn without anyone getting hurt." He stepped back.

Jaime stood still, brows drawing together. "To Sam?" She repeated, looking at the taller boy. She shook her head, looked down at her bag, then back to the preacher. "No …" she said, confused. "The drug … it's for horses. Not, not safe. Not for Sam."

Sam felt himself begin to breathe erratically. He couldn't remember being quite so terrified in … well … maybe ever. To have Dean right here, and have him do nothing to stop this. Sam didn't think he could bear it.

"Jaime. Don't!" He pleaded. "Dean! You heard her. It's not safe! He's going to kill me!"

Dean and Jaime stood silently in front of the terrified Sam, eyes locked, neither quite comprehending was what supposed to happen.

"Jaime." Guyver interrupted. "I thought I could trust you? I thought you cared about our mission? About what we do here?"

She looked over at him. "Of course. I do. I … I care."

"Then administer the drug."

She paused another moment, then nodded. Setting her bag on the floor, she withdrew a syringe and a brown bottle of liquid. Clearly printed on the label in bright blue lettering were the words, "Not for Human Consumption." She rose and faced Sam, taking a step toward him.

But he slid backward along the wall until he was in the corner and could go no further because the desk was in the way. He was full-on hyperventilating now, begging with both Dean and Jaime to stop what they were about to do.

But Jaime advanced on him, loaded syringe in hand, and Sam could see that it was a wicked-looking instrument - clearly also intended for something much bigger than himself. When he made a move to try and clamber over the desk, Dean moved in and wrapped iron arms around him, holding him from behind with his arms pinned firmly to his sides.

"No!" Sam moaned as he felt the needle plunge home in his upper arm. "No! Dean! Don't …!" But whatever was in the syringe was fast-acting. Almost immediately, Sam felt his muscles constrict. He'd never felt anything like it before. He tensed all over, a charlie horse forming in his right leg, and he cried out in surprise. His heart rate felt like it doubled, and suddenly, he could hardly breathe at all. Next, his head began to spin, and not just his head, but his thoughts and memories too. Suddenly, they were all around him, spinning outside his body, and Sam could see them. They materialized in the form of words like FEAR and ESCAPE. BROTHER was swirling just below his right ear. And PAIN just above it. Sam's eyes followed the words as they whirled and tumbled and changed color. They were alive - breathing, and they were the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

As he slouched down the wall, supported from behind from the warmth of Dean's body, Sam followed the words and the letter trail they blazed through the air. His mouth fell open in wonder, and cuffed hands reached out to try and capture LAPTOP. It was burgundy, outlined in orange, and it hovered there, just outside his reach. He scuttled forward along the floor, knowing he could touch it if he just tried harder. But again, it eluded him, and Sam decided it must be further away than it looked - like a mountain range that seemed close until you started walking toward it.

And then a mountain was there, small enough that he could fit the whole thing in the palm of one hand, but it was so beautiful, Sam was afraid to touch it. It was blue and white and silver snow sifted down across it like a snowglobe only without the glass. If Sam looked real close, he thought he could make out tiny angry sheep moving back and forth across it.

"Ohhhh …" He breathed, enraptured. But his breath caught, and his chest seemed to seize up at the same time. Sam felt himself sliding down the edge of a cliff. He was helpless and picking up speed, and he dug his heels into the concrete to try and slow his out-of-control descent. And then he was tumbling over the edge, and it was hot, so hot. Sam saw sweat from the tips of his hair form puddles beneath him, and his last coherent thought was that maybe he'd drown in them.