Hey everyone. Sorry it took so long to update but here you go. I hope you like it and michele kelley, I love you to.

Chapter 14

Several hours later they came upon an old abandoned house and decided to stay there for the night. So far Sam hadn't done anything crazy and Dean was hoping that he was ok, but deep down he knew that, that would be too easy. Nothing was ever easy for them. They found some cans of stew in the cabinets and Dean made a fire while Sam worked on opening the cans, then they sat down and ate the first meal they'd had in days. Sam started to rub his head which made Dean nervous.

"Are you ok," he asked, but Sam didn't answer. Dean put the can down and walked over to sit in front of his brother. "Sam?" Sam looked up, but didn't say anything.

"Talk to me," said Dean. Sam grinned. "I'm ok, just tired." He realized he had just scared Dean to death.

"Don't do that," said Dean.

"Do what," answered Sam, still grinning.

"Don't not answer me when I talk to you. Not right now, ok?"

"Sorry," said Sam. "I wasn't thinking, but I'm ok right now. How are you?"

"Well, other than the heart attack you just gave me, I'm fine," replied Dean. He reached up to feel Sam's head again, but Sam shoved his hand away. Dean just looked at his brother. Sam sighed, "I'm ok, I'm just tired of you feeling my head every few minutes, so stop it!"

"Well, it's the only way I can tell if you're ok, plus I need to look at that gash, so deal with it," said Dean. Sam shrugged and let his brother do what he had to do. Dean felt his head, it was still hot, which made him even more nervous. The fever always went away before, but it wasn't going away this time. Then he looked at the cut on his brothers head.

"Stay here," said Dean and went to get a wet cloth. When he came back Sam just stared at him, a pained expression on his face.

"Dean," he said.

"Shut up," said Dean wiping the blood off his brothers head, causing him to wince.

"That gash is pretty bad," he said. "What did you hit?"

"Windshield," replied Sam. "I'm ok," but he got very quiet.

"What is it," asked Dean, looking at Sam. He watched his eyes.

"I didn't tell you everything I saw in my vision," he said and stood up to walk around, that strange feeling coming over him again.

"I know that," said Dean. Sam looked at his brother.

"What?"

"I figured you would tell me when you got ready." He waited for a few minutes then said, "Are you ready?" Sam nodded and grabbed the gun before Dean could react.

"Wait," said Dean softly. He looked in his brothers eyes. They were glassy again. "Shit," he said getting to his feet. "Sam!" He raised his hands.

"Drop the gun," said Dean. Sam shook his head. "Put it down Sam, please!"
He took several slow steps toward his brother, hands still up. "I'm not going to let you kill my brother you son of a bitch!" Dean said it to Sam, but was speaking to the spirit controlling him.

The collector grinned and pointed the gun at Dean. "Very good," he said. "You're smarter than I gave you credit for. I was wondering how long it would take you to figure it out." Dean stopped and eyed the gun. "I'm part of your brother now. Next time I feed off him, he'll die, if he don't kill himself first that is."

"Sam," said Dean ignoring the soul collector. "Listen to me, don't let him do this to you." Sam shook his head to clear his mind of the cobwebs.

"Give me the gun, Sam," but he placed it to his own head and cocked it. Dean swallowed hard and started toward his brother again. "Give it to me Sam!" He held out his hand as Sam backed up.

"No," said Dean. "I'm not going to let you kill yourself. You don't know what you're doing. Give me the damn gun." He said it more calmly than he felt. He walked closer to his brother, but was afraid to touch him. Finally Sam spoke.

"My vision," he said, "the part I didn't tell you about was that I saw me kill myself in the woods, in front of an old run down house. I blew my brains out while you watched." Sam backed up some more. Dean shook his head, and took another step toward his brother.

"STAY BACK!" yelled Sam, backing up more. Dean froze. He was afraid to move. It was Sam talking, but It wasn't Sam controlling his movements. The collector had taken over his body and if Dean didn't do something quick, the collector was going to kill his brother. Dean raised his hands again, not taking his eyes off Sam. "Listen to me," pleaded Dean.

"SHUT UP!" Sam didn't know who this person was standing in front of him. He didn't know why he was there, or even how he got there. All he knew was that he was tired. He just wanted to sleep, and never wake up. He looked at the man standing in front of him and asked, "Who are you?" Dean shook his head again.

"I'm your brother, Sam. I'm Dean. Please give me the gun. Don't let that thing beat you. Don't let him win. Put it down." Sam shook his head. "I had a vision. I knew this was going to happen. Dean attempted another step, but Sam pressed the gun harder into his own head. "I SAID STAY BACK!"

"Ok, Sam, ok," said Dean stopping. "I'll stay here, but I want you to listen to me." Sam just stared.