On to the next chapter...and Sam! Sam's here this time. And he has numerous lines, too! And Dean doesn't get beat up! So many exclamation marks! ! ! Haha. :) Thanks for reading, and enjoy. I hope this chapter clears up any lingering plot questions you may have.

Dean drifted while underwater voices gargled around him. Something was beeping amidst the voices, disturbing him like an audio version of Chinese water torture. He couldn't move, and he didn't care to. He let himself sink deeper, underneath the voices. He dreamed.

In his dream, he was sitting on a rocky precipice above a waterfall. He let his legs dangle into the cool liquid, staring down the drop. It was a long drop; the water at the base smashed against the rocks and flung up into a mist.

"Dean."

Dean pursed his lips and looked up at his brother. "You."

"Me," Sam sighed, sitting down beside him.

Dean fell silent for a moment. "I'm dead?"

"Not yet, no."

"Oh. Okay."

Sam shifted beside him.

"Where are we?" Dean asked.

"I think we're in my head."

"So this is your dream?"

"I suppose."

"Not a very interesting dream," Dean said with a halfhearted smirk.

"I'm sorry, would you rather we were being attacked? I'm sure I could conjure up a Wendigo or something simple like ferocious grizzly bears."

"No, I'm good," he said, running his hand through the water. Minnows swarmed away from his skin. "Remind me, how exactly did we get into this mess?"

Sam shrugged. "Something about an old woman."

"Oh yeah, right," he said, "From now on, we avoid the elderly like a plague."

"Of locusts?"

"Nah, more like they're carrying the black death. Like they're waiting to demolish all living souls and feast on the flesh of babies."

Sam smirked. "Old women?"

"Yeah. And creepy little girls with black hair."

"Right," Sam said, and sighed. "They gave you Alma's blood."

"I know. It melts things. Pretty cool, actually."

"They're going to make you control the army of Replica Soldiers."

"So...not pretty cool?"

"No, they'll destroy the world."

"Ah. That again."

"Guess this makes you Alma's replacement."

"I thought you were Alma's replacement. Since you've got the shining and all."

"Yeah…well…I'm currently indisposed."

"But still probably not dead, right?" Dean said, a little more desperately than he would have liked.

"Maybe."

Dean ignored his brother's vague response. "Okay. Things aren't so bad. I just have to break out of the hospital, which is swarming with the Men in Black and those Mr. Smith guys wearing their identical sunglasses, locate the Ossuary, get inside the Ossuary, avoid getting brutally murdered by Alma, find you, wherever the hell you are, while you're still probably not dead, escape from the Ossuary without being melted, miraculously avoid the government again and escape from the country, and then fall off the grid and become Mexican drug lords so no one can ever find us again. Is that everything?"

"Yep, that's it. Exactly. "

"Oh good. I was worried it might be complicated or something," Dean said, running a hand tiredly over his face. "So why isn't Alma here, anyway?"

"Probably because you're here and she hates you."

"Ha, you're hilarious."

"I think you freaked her out when you used her own blood against her."

"So she's going to leave me alone now, then?"

"Probably not indefinitely. Sorry."

Dean stared down into the raging water. "Do I have to go back? I'd rather just stay here. It's nice here."

"I'm sure someone is going to wake you up soon."

"Damn."

"But it was a good idea." Sam said softly.

Dean shook his head and stood up. The sun was setting now, spreading deep reds and gold above the tree line. "How long?"

"Until I'm probably dead?" Sam said, reading the expression on his brother's face.

"Yeah."

Sam frowned, trying to formulate the best response.

"That soon, huh?" he said, jaw tightening.

"Yeah," Sam said, deciding there was no point in sugarcoating it. "Pretty imminent, actually. She's...draining me. Of powers, naturally, but also of thoughts and memories and...stuff."

"She's taking your memories?"

Sam grimaced. "I...think. It's hard to explain. That's just what it feels like."

"Why the hell would she do that?"

Sam shrugged.

Dean pushed the concept to the back of his mind to ponder later. "And how do you feel?" he asked seriously, staring down at his brother.

"Drained," Sam said in a soft exhale. "Look man, I'm fighting her, but it's hard."

Dean swore and kicked a loose rock over the falls. "Okay. It's okay. Just...resist her for a little while longer, Sammy, okay? A little bit more, and then I'll figure something out or you'll figure something out. We always do."

Sam nodded.

Dean spoke again, but no words came out. He frowned.

Sam squinted up at him. "You're fading," he said, and to prove the point he waved his right arm through Dean's leg, "Waking up."

He gritted his teeth and tried to fight it. No. He mouthed, willing himself to just stay with Sam.

"It's okay," Sam said, but his voice was faded and ghostly, "I'll be fine. Probably. Just...don't get killed."

Dean tried to cling to the dream, but it slipped away in the frustrating way that pleasant dreams do. Black spots swirled and covered the images of Sam and the sky and the waterfall. He reached out blindly. For a moment, he thought he could feel Sam's hand grasp his own-

Pain.

He let out a shuddering breath, clenching his fingers around cotton sheets. The world smelled of rubbing alcohol and, oddly, fresh paint. A stupid heart monitor cheerfully beeped away beside him, announcing that yes, he was still alive. Damn it.

Dean cracked open one eye. It was dark aside from one bedside lamp and the red glow of an exit sign above the door.

Halfheartedly, he tried to lift an arm up and was completely unsurprised to find that he was strapped down for the second time today. He settled back in the sheets and tried to get comfortable.