Will have language and probably violence.

Summary: Crossover with Ghost Hunters. Sam and Dean's first trip overseas to Ireland puts them in the middle of a Ghost Hunters' investigation concerning mischievous fairies. Can the boys do their jobs without being detected by the other hunters, or will the fairies triumph over the boys?

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural or Ghost Hunters related, but I can't pass up the good material they inspire! Enjoy!! Yes I used direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Sam spent the rest of the day trying to find the right way to approach his brother without Dean shutting him out completely. He knew Bobby was right and his brother needed help dealing with the shifter situation, but he hadn't had much practice with Dean when it came to heart-to-heart conversations.

He decided he would give it a little more time and see if Dean came to him first. Since the moment Dean woke up, Bobby became a mother-hen, forcing him to stay in bed, drink lots of fluids, and take medication when needed. Dean was grateful for the relaxation time, but was afraid he would fall asleep again.

"Son, you know you need the rest. Why don't you try ta sleep for a while?"

"Not tired, Bobby."

"Bullshit. You're exhausted. If you just talk about it, Dean…"

"For the last time, drop it, man! If I want to talk about it, I will."

"Yeah right… When a blue cow climbs Mount Everest and does a victory dance. If you want to heal, yer gonna need ta rest."

"I am resting. That's all I've done all day!"

"You know what I mean, smart ass. What do ya need? A bedtime story?"

"Now that you mention it… Know any good ones?"

"Brat. If yer not gonna sleep, yer gonna eat. We need ta build yer strength back up again. In a few days, we'll start physical therapy to get you back to hunter standards."

"Sounds like a hoot." Dean rolled his eyes. "Where's Sam?"

"In the kitchen makin' some soup. Who knew you Winchesters could cook?"

"We can't. He learned while he was at school." Dean's eyes clouded over slightly at the painful flashback. Bobby stood up and cleared his throat.

"I'll be back with yer food. Do not leave that bed."

"Yes, mother."

Dean tried to cross his arms over his chest to show his dislike for being ordered around, but the added pressure against his busted ribs made him rethink the situation. Bobby failed to miss the wince.

"And I'll check yer bandages again when yer done."

"Can't wait."

As Dean laid there, he could feel the strong tug of exhaustion flowing through his system. He wished he could just drift off into a peaceful sleep, but he knew better than that. Every time he closed his eyes, he could clearly picture everything he went through all those years ago. He was plagued by the memories he had deeply buried last time, but thanks to Cleena, had resurfaced ten-fold.

Eventually, the silence lulled him into a sense of security and he fell asleep.

"Scream for me, Dean. Beg. And maybe I won't do the same to little Sammy and dear daddy. I can't hear you, Dean…

"I want to hear you apologize for being such a waste of time and space. Say you're sorry for letting mom die, big brother."

"I'm sorry, Sammy… Please, stop…"

"Dean! Wake up, son!" Bobby tapped on the side of Dean's face as the boy was tossing frantically in his bed. "Damn it, this is gettin' old… Sam! Get in here!"

"Bobby? What's…? Shit. Dean?!" Sam ran to the other side of the bed to help hold his brother down. The more he flailed, the more stitches and wounds he tore open. Blood was starting to seep through his shirt.

"I want to hear you beg, Dean. Beg like your life depended on it."

"Open yer eyes, kid." Bobby tapped harder on Dean's cheek. He really didn't want to slap him again if he could avoid it. The boy was in enough pain as it was. Luckily, Dean sprang back to awareness seconds later.

"Stop!" Dean's eyes shot open and his hands clawed at the sheets.

"It's okay, Dean. It was just a dream…"

"No, it goddamn wasn't, Sam. It was all real." Dean pushed Bobby and Sam away from him and covered his face in his hands, trying to control his breathing. "I can't just sit here anymore, Bobby. I've gotta do something. At least let me work on the cars in the shop?"

Bobby wanted to say no right then and there. Dean wasn't strong enough in his opinion to be walking across the room let alone fixing cars, but the pleading in the kid's voice and face melted his resolve.

"You're welcome to 'em, son. Just take it easy, okay? Don't over do it."

"Thank you. I mean it, man."

Bobby clapped him on the uninjured shoulder. "Just let me patch you back up again first. Can't have these wounds gettin' infected with grease and oil."

"Alright, but give me a sec first, huh?"

"I might even give ya a whole minute."

Dean slid out of the tangled sheets and made his way slowly to the bathroom where he splashed his face with water and got a drink. As his heart beat began to slow to a normal rate, he headed back out into the bedroom where Bobby and Sam were waiting for him, bandages in hand.

As he sat there and they worked around him, his mind drifted between the past and the present. Half of him wanted to discuss everything with Sam so he had someone who could understand what he went through, but the other half was determined to take over and prevent Dean from ever mentioning that day again. Maybe that way, he could pretend it never happened. If only these horrible dreams would just leave him alone.

He spent the rest of the day and well into the early night working in the garage and repairing a few classics. In here, playing his tapes in the cars as he worked, listening to the engines purr as he got them into working condition, he felt safe. He felt normal.

This is his passion. Working on cars was his best skill below hunting, and it was his stress reliever. This he was good at.

Sam and Bobby spent the whole time alternating turns checking on Dean through the front window. They didn't want to disturb his utopia, but they wanted to make sure he was still on his feet. When Bobby finally saw Dean falter slightly, he went out to make him call it quits.

"I think you've had enough fer one day, Dean. Wrap it up and let's head on in."

"I'm almost finished with this one, Bobby…"

"Now. You can finish it in the mornin' if yer up to it."

As Dean ignored him and continued to work, Bobby strode up to him and physically pulled the wrench out of his hand.

"Bobby…"

"Son, I know yer scared to sleep, and I completely understand where yer comin' from havin' been in that position many times myself. But ya can't stay awake forever and expect ta heal. You've gotta get this all behind you and the only way yer gonna do that is by talkin' it out. Now I'm not gonna try ta make ya do it, but you're not leavin' here until ya do. I'm not gonna risk you gettin' yerself killed on a reckless hunt just cause yer battlin' inner demons. When yer ready, Sam and I are both fully willin' to listen. Now let's get inside before you catch a cold on top of everythin' else."

Having nothing to say in return, Dean nodded, shut off the radio and the car, and followed Bobby back to the house dejectedly. Sam was waiting at the front door.

"Feelin' any better, dude?"

"Yeah, a bit."

It was obviously a lie, but Sam let it go, wanting to believe it was true with all his heart.

"Hey, Dean? Why don't you try the sedatives again? Maybe they'll help."

"I'm good, Sammy. I don't like takin' drugs unless I absolutely need to."

"Yeah, I know. Just thought I'd offer. Night, man."

"See ya in the mornin', bro."

Dean had no intention of sleeping but having exhausted himself while working in the garage, he didn't have much choice. Almost instantly, he was thrown back in to his reoccurring nightmare.

"You haven't started begging yet. I must be losing my touch. No matter… I've got a backup plan."

"What the hell are you doing?"

"This aught to do the trick. Nice big belt buckle… I like it. Let's test it out, shall we? Scream for me Dean."

Dean felt the lashes as his belt left welts in his back. Just as he was able to control the pain, the shifter brought the belt down again even harder, making him cry out against his will.

As Sam was heading to their bedroom he heard Dean's strangled cry of pain and raced in to find his brother rigid to the point of where his muscles were convulsing. His face was screwed up in pain.

"For God's sake, can't he just have one night of peace?! Dean, come back to me, man." He shook his brother harshly, knowingly jostling his brother's swollen shoulder. Dean yelped and sat bolt upright, nearly knocking Sam to the floor.

As the real pain registered, Dean gripped his sore arm tightly, grimacing.

"I'm sorry, Dean, but you were dreaming again and…"

"Thanks, Sammy."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Dean, you really need to…"

"I said no, Sam! Just leave me alone!"

"Okay. I'm backing off."

"Is Bobby still up?"

"No. He crashed an hour ago."

"Good. I'm gonna go for a walk."

"Where?"

"Anywhere but here. I just need some time is all."

"Want me to come with you?"

"Kinda defeats the purpose, dontcha think? Don't wait up."

With that, Dean stormed from the room, leaving a hurt and worried little brother behind.

TBC

Drama, drama, drama… But we like it, right? As always, send on your ideas and comments!