Colors

by DeanWinchesterFan1985

An easy hunt in Arkansas goes bad. With Sam injured and totally dependent on him, Dean fights not only to help his brother, but to overcome his own personal demons as well. Set immediately after Bloodlust. Sam & Dean angst!

35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Dr. Burken grabbed a chair and sat in front of Jenni and Sam, leaning forward slightly and forced the corners of his mouth up. It didn't meet his eyes though, Jenni and Sam immediately saw through the façade.

"How is he?"

"He's resting, but stable." Dr. Burken scratched absent-mindedly at the back of his hand, focusing on Jenni for a moment. "You said you were his attending?"

Jenni nodded.

"Did he have any seizures other than the one we know about?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Jenni looked at Sam who shook his head.

"Well, it appears as though it were a bad one. The head injury, of course, was the cause of it. We have him on a ventilator because he seemed to be having trouble breathing. Did he vomit during the seizure?"

"Yeah he did, but I don't think it all came out. He was having trouble breathing in the car on the way over."

Dr. Burken nodded. "We checked his airway and lungs for any remaining residue, and cleaned up what we found. So if that was the problem – we'll take him off the ventilator in a couple hours."

"What did the brain scans show?"

"Nothing, out of the ordinary. No swelling or bleeds that would cause immediate worry. We also didn't find any cracks in the skull, which in and of itself is a miracle. We did, however, stitch up the head wound. The butterfly bandages were holding it together but with as deep as it was – well it will heal faster if stitched."

"So is he going to be ok?"

"The concussion is serious – so we'll be keeping an eye on him. We'll know for sure how he's doing when he wakes up."

"Can we see him?"

Dr. Burken hesitated and the smile faded slightly. "For a few minutes, we have him scheduled for a few more tests in a half hour."

"Sam, why don't we just wait until later to see him?" Jenni asked lightly, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder and squeezing gently.

He turned to look at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Why?"

"We need to get you checked into a motel close by – and we'll get some lunch. Dean won't be done for a while."

Dr. Burken nodded as Jenni turned to look at him to confirm her assumptions. "He should be situated in his room in a few hours and you can stay with him for as long as you want then."

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between Jenni and Dr. Burken, but neither were relenting.

"Is there a motel close by?"

Dr. Burken nodded. "The Guesthouse International Inn isn't too far, only a couple minutes away actually. Down on University Avenue, you can't miss it."

"Thank you, Dr. Burken." Jenni grabbed Sam's elbow and helped him to his feet. "Come on, Sam. We'll come back later this afternoon. He'll be fine."

Sam sent a wistful glance at the swinging doors before allowing Jenni to direct him towards the exit. Dr. Burken watched them go before nodding at the sour faced nurse and pushing through the swinging doors once again.

***

The afternoon passed slowly for Sam, but Jenni had been unrelenting. She had insisted on checking them into the Guesthouse Inn and had threatened to knock him out if he didn't sleep. It had been anything but restful, but Sam had done as he was told. Jenni too had taken a nap, but was up long before Sam was. She had already brought back lunch by the time Sam stumbled into the kitchenette area.

"You hungry?" Jenni asked setting a chicken salad onto the table and hurrying over to Sam as he stumbled and nearly fell.

Sam shook his head and tried to push her away, but gave up when Jenni tightened her hold on him.

"When can we go see Dean?"

"Sam, he isn't going anywhere."

Sam glared at her as she helped him settle at the table. "I want to go see, Dean."

"How about you eat lunch first – then we'll see what happens."

"Not hungry." Sam stared moodily at the chicken salad sitting before him.

Jenni crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Sam, unrelenting. "Sam, we aren't going anywhere until you get some food into you. You aren't going to be any good to Dean cranky and hungry. He's going to need you strong and rested – and right now you're anything but."

Sam stabbed his fork into the concoction and lifted it slowly to his mouth.

Jenni nodded and settled herself on the opposite side of the table, digging into her own lunch. She stabbed at a few raspberries and dipped them into a small cup of cream. She watched as Sam stirred the contents of his lunch around on his plate.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

Sam looked up at her but quickly dropped his gaze again.

"Nothing."

Jenni cocked an eyebrow. "You always this pleasant when you're fine?"

Sam sighed and pushed his plate away – glaring at his water glass. "What's it matter to you?"

"Sam, he's going to be fine. He's in good care – another half hour on his own won't make a difference."

"He doesn't like being alone." Sam's voice was just above a whisper, he tapped his fingers against the water glass.

"He's a big boy, Sam, I'm sure he'll manage."

Sam's fist slammed against the tabletop, rattling the plates and tipping over both cups. Jenni silently dropped a napkin onto the spilled liquid and met Sam's gaze evenly.

"He doesn't like being alone, Jenni. At all – he hates it! He'll know that I'm not there – I want to go back to the hospital."

"Throwing a fit like a little kid isn't going to get you there any faster."

"Don't tell me what to do." Sam pushed against the tabletop and started to rise but Jenni was much faster than he had anticipated and was at his side, gripping his shoulders in an instant, her nails digging into the folds of his shirt.

"You want to help your brother, Sam, I get that – I do. But do you really think that you are going to help him like this? We're already pushing our luck here because we don't have your pain killers – or your glasses – the least we can do is make sure you are well rested and have eaten to keep your strength up. Trust me, you're going to need it. If Dean really hates being alone as much as you say he does, he's going to want you around for a while – and you won't be in any condition to do so if you're exhausted and hungry."

Sam tightened his jaw and tensed, ready to push Jenni off him.

"Think about what's best for Dean and not what you want yourself, Sam. You aren't any good to him like this."

"You can't stop me."

Jenni released him, backing up a few steps. "You're right – I can't. If you want to walk out that door now and walk to the hospital that's your decision, I won't try to stop you. You obviously know what's best for you and your brother without my help."

"We've managed just fine without you our whole lives – I don't see much of a difference now."

Jenni nodded once and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes. "Obviously – I can see where that has gotten you."

Sam's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Sam, do you honestly think you can handle this on your own? Dean's going to need more help when he's checked out and you aren't in the best condition to help him."

"I think I can handle it."

"That's just the thing, Sam, you can't."

"Don't tell me what I can and can't handle! You know nothing about us!"

"I know more than you think."

"This isn't about you!"

"Then what is it about, Sam? Please, explain to me why this is so freaking important that you go to Dean right now."

"He needs me."

"He's going to be under sedation, Sam, he's not going to know you're there."

"He'll know."

"Sam, this is stupid. Finish your lunch and we'll go down to the hospital together. It won't take as long as it would if you decided to leave now and walk down there. But the longer we stand here and argue about this means less time that you could be spending with your brother."

"I'm not hungry – so why can't we just leave now?"

"Because you haven't eaten all day, Sam. You need to eat – I promise we'll go as soon as you eat something. You don't even have to eat all of it – just eat half. You can eat half, right?"

Sam looked down at the unappetizing chicken salad. "Half?"

"Just half – then I promise we'll go right down to the hospital and stay as long as you want. I won't bother you if you guys want to be alone and I won't force you to leave. Please, Sam, just eat something."

Sam took a step back, placing one hand on the back of his chair. "What if Dean wants to leave?"

"I'll try to get him released."

"What if they won't release him?"

"I'll smuggle him out under a sheet if I have to."

"What if we get caught by Nurse Sourpuss?"

"I'll kick her wrinkled ass to Japan. I was looking for an excuse to do something to her anyway."

Sam laughed and sank onto his chair. "She wouldn't stand a chance against you – should probably take it easy on her."

Jenni rolled her eyes and flicked Sam's shoulder playfully as she went back to her own seat and settled down. She scooped up a forkful of blueberries and tossed them into her mouth. She watched as Sam worked on another mouthful of his salad.

"Jenni, I didn't mean – I don't want to make you…"

"Sam, don't." Jenni waved off the apology, knowing it was coming. "I know you're worried about Dean and I don't blame you."

"That doesn't give me a free pass to take my anger out on you whenever I find it convenient."

"No, it doesn't. But sometimes you need an outlet and usually the person closest is the easiest to lash out at."

"Maybe, but it isn't fair that you're the one taking the brunt of it."

Jenni reached across the table and placed a small hand on Sam's. "Don't worry about it, Sam. I'm not mad – I promise."

Sam smiled and took another small bite of his salad. "Jenni, can we save the rest of this? I really want to get back to the hospital."

Jenni eyed Sam's barely touched salad but nodded, relenting. She knew it would be pointless to argue with Sam and he had tried to eat something, so she'd cut him a break this time.

"Good thing this place has a mini refrigerator huh?" Jenni asked putting a lid on the fruit bowl and picking up Sam's salad. She placed both items in the small cooling unit and pulled on her jacket before helping Sam with his.

"How long do you think the hospital will insist on keeping him?" Sam asked fumbling with the zipper on his jacket.

Jenni shrugged and tugged her loose hair into a low ponytail, tying it with a twisty tie. "It depends on a few things. If he's still on the ventilator they'll want to keep him for a few days, if he's breathing on his own – probably just over night."

"Did you mean it, Jenni, when you said you'd try to get him out?" Sam asked looking up briefly before returning his gaze to the zipper that was giving him so much trouble.

Jenni cocked an eyebrow and puckered her lips slightly as she watched Sam struggle. "Yes, I meant it. If he's feeling well enough to leave I think I'd do my best to get him out of there. The less time we have to stay there the less time someone will have to recognize us from the TV or posters in the post office."

Sam laughed and shook his head once, dropping the bottom of his jacket as the stubborn zipper continued to be difficult. Jenni stepped over and quietly zipped up his jacket and handed him the spare motel key. He slipped it into his pocket and allowed Jenni to help guide him to the door.

"Besides, the sooner we get you back to the cabin and get your glasses back on you the better. I hope that this little stunt hasn't set back your recovery, Sam."

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine, Sam. You still look tired. Are you sure you're ok?" Jenni looked at him concerned before she pulled the motel door shut behind her and helped Sam down the stairs to the parking lot.

Sam nodded and blinked his eyes heavily against the onslaught of the late afternoon sun.

"Oh, I almost forgot – here." Jenni pulled a pair of dark shades from her pocket and pushed them into Sam's hand. "I found them in the impala, figured you'd want them out here."

Sam smiled his appreciation and slipped the glasses on, letting out a silent breath of relief as the dark shades took some of the strain off his aching eyes. "Hey, Jenni?"

"Yeah?" Jenni slipped in behind the wheel and Sam got into his usual position in the passenger seat.

"How do you think my recovery is supposed to go?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I went from not being able to see at all to seeing shadows and grays – does this mean I'll see one color at a time or something?"

Jenni frowned and stuck the key in the ignition, pushing gently and listening while the engine turned over before it powered up and it growled quietly. They sat in silence, letting the impala idle as Jenni thought about Sam's question.

"Well, Sam, I honestly don't know." Jenni admitted after several minutes of silence. "I've never dealt with a case like yours before, so it will be a learning experience for both of us I suppose."

"Oh – well, I figured as much."

"Was there a reason you asked, Sam?" Jenni leaned over, placing a hand on Sam's knee. "Are you seeing colors?"

"It's hard to tell – I feel like I'm forgetting how to tell what colors are." Sam absent-mindedly leaned forward and rubbed his fingers on the dash, closing his eyes briefly.

Jenni watched him, her eyebrows meeting and her eyes widening a bit. "Are you seeing anything other than the grays, Sam?"

Sam hesitated, then slowly nodded once. "I think – well, I think I'm seeing some blues. But I'm not sure, I can't really tell the difference."

"Give it more time, Sam. Your eyes are still trying to heal – let's not push them any more than we have to right now."

Sam nodded and turned to look out the window. Jenni pulled the gear into reverse and backed out of the parking space slowly.

"So, Sam." Jenni asked smiling as she pulled out into traffic.

Sam turned to look at her, a bit weary. "Yeah?"

Jenni grinned and cast a quick glance at Sam, wiggling her eyebrows. "What do you think Dean will say when he found out I drove his car?"

***

"You freakin' let a chick drive my car!" Dean demanded glaring daggers at his brother. His chest heaved as his labored breaths picked up a notch and his mouth pulled down into a scowl.

Sam sighed and leaned back in the hard plastic chair he had taken residence in an hour ago. Dean was sore and tired, not the best of combinations under the best of circumstances, but even worse when Dean was sore, tired, and in a hospital bed. Sam rubbed patiently at his temples, trying to rid himself of the residing ache that had taken residence there shortly after arriving.

Dean had been awake, and off the ventilator when they had arrived, and was less than pleased when he discovered where he was. He had greeted Jenni and Sam, and had actually been civil for fifteen minutes before asking when he could leave. Sam hadn't been surprised, and for her credit, neither had Jenni.

Jenni had talked to Dr. Burken about Dean's condition before they had been shown to his room, so they had been aware that Dean wasn't in the best of moods before they had even seen him. Dean had been extremely difficult ever since he had woken up – insisting that he was fine and demanding to know where his brother was.

Jenni and Sam had prepared themselves for Dean's attitude before entering his room and hadn't been disappointed. After Dean's initial pleasantries upon seeing them he had quickly soured when they didn't immediately check him out.

He would have to stay off the leg for a couple weeks, and was to take it easy on his arm for at least one. The head wound had been stitched, and the claw marks down his chest had been rewrapped.

Jenni had soon left Sam on his own to deal with Dean while she went in to see what she could do about getting him discharged. Unfortunately, the impala had come up, and Dean had been less than pleased when Sam admitted to how they had gotten to the hospital in the first place.

"What did you want me to do, Dean? We had to get you help and I can't see well enough to drive the impala. I'd have crashed it or something."

Dean pursed his lips and lifted an eyebrow, getting ready to say something that Sam was sure wouldn't be pleasant so he quickly changed the subject.

"How much did you tell Jenni about us?"

Surprised by the conversation change, Dean's eyebrows met and his forehead crinkled. "What do you mean?"

"Did you tell her about all the things we've hunted?"

"She had some questions."

"About what?"

"I don't know it was kind of weird – she seemed really interested in banshees for some reason."

Sam cocked his head, intrigued. "Why?"

"I don't know, she didn't say."

"Do you think she's worried about a banshee?"

Dean shrugged and wrapped his arms around his stomach, settling further under the bed sheets. Sam's insides clenched, the last time he had seen Dean do this had been right before John had died. He tried to suppress his feelings as he met Dean's gaze head on.

"If she is – she didn't mention it."

Sam frowned and ran his fingers through his tangled hair.

"What's wrong, Sam?"

"That just seems really weird that she would bring something like that up. Don't you think?"

Dean shrugged again and focused on the far wall. "I was cleaning weapons at the time – it would seem natural that she would ask about what kills what. Curiosity never hurt anything but a cat somewhere – and that sucker has been dead for a long time."

Sam smirked and shook his head, looking down at his lap.

"You know – I have kind of thought that maybe her parents' deaths have something to do with her curiosity about all this stuff though." Dean continued, speaking quietly, as though to himself as he would if Sam weren't in the room.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked leaning forward and studying Dean's face intently, squinting his eyes a bit in hopes that Dean would come into better focus.

"Well, apparently her parents died up by the lake. They went out one night and never came back."

"Were the bodies found?"

"Yeah, Jenni said that the cops dragged the lake – but the bodies weren't found for a couple weeks. Something could have just dumped them in the lake later."

"True, maybe we should look into it. See if something strange has happened around the lake. If it is supernatural there should be some kind of pattern."

"It won't bring her parents back, Sam."

"I know that, but maybe it can give her some better closure."

"Sam, if it were you – would it give you more closure? Knowing what did it?"

Sam thought about it seriously – Jess, Mom, Dad – it hadn't given him more closure. It had just opened up the door for revenge and he had become obsessed with it – maybe even more so than Dad had been. He looked back at Dean who was looking at him patiently, his eyes soft and all knowing.

"It won't help her, Sam. It won't take the pain away – she's better off not knowing."

Sam nodded and swallowed, finding the simple act hard to do as a large lump had suddenly formed there. "Do you think we'd be better off, Dean? Not knowing?"

"Sometimes, but we can't undo things once they've been done, Sammy. We were never meant to not know what's out there – it's our job."

"I thought you didn't believe in that destiny crap."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean that some things were meant to be. Some things we have control over, Sammy, and other things we don't."

"What's the difference?"

"Our choices define us, Sam, make us who we are. We've chosen to do this – Dad chose to do this. He could have walked away after what happened to Mom, but he didn't. He wanted to get that thing – wanted to protect us from the same thing. He wanted us to be ready, to know what was out there, didn't want us to be caught unawares like he was."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean that we had to keep doing it."

"No, we didn't, but we did and we still do. We don't really know anything else, Sammy."

"I did – once."

Dean's eyes softened as he watched his brother curl in on himself. "Sam, when you were at Stanford did you ever stop believing in those things lurking out in the dark?"

"I wanted to – but I never could. I still knew they were out there."

"It's kind of hard to forget this kind of stuff isn't it, Sammy?"

Sam's mouth pulled up into a crooked grin. "Yeah – but you can't take it home with you – right, Dean?"

"Damn straight."

"But what does this have to do with our choices, Dean? What does this have to do with our destinies?"

"Sam, we didn't have to keep doing this – we could have left and forgotten about this stuff at any time, but we didn't. We chose to keep fighting, to keep hunting – no one chose it for us. We did that ourselves."

"Well, yeah, I guess. But with what the demon said to Dad – about me?"

Dean's face darkened and he turned to look away from his brother.

"What about the others like me? What do you think he meant by that?"

"Sam, I don't think you have to do something that some yellow eyed son of a bitch tells you to do. It's your choice on whether you want to join him or keep fighting the good fight. Doesn't matter if you are some freaky ass spoon bender who has weirdo ass visions. You're the one who chooses what to do with that crazy mojo stuff – no one can do it for you."

"Dean, what would you do if you had them?"

Dean smirked and straightened a bit on the bed. "Go to Vegas – win me some cash."

Sam shook his head and laughed. "Figures."

A soft knock at the door interrupted their conversation and two pairs of eyes turned to see Jenni entering, wearing a sheepish grin and pushing a wheelchair.

"Ready to go home, Dean?"

"Hell yes, but not in that thing."

Jenni pursed her lips and fixed Dean with a steady gaze. "You either get in this chair and shut up about it or we will leave your ass here and I'll sell the impala for spare parts in some salvage yard."

Dean smirked, confident. "You wouldn't do that to my baby. You like her – she's a classic."

Jenni frowned but recovered quickly. "You're right – but I will guarantee nothing but salads and fruit bowls if you don't shut up about this."

"Ouch." Sam smirked and shrugged when Dean turned an accusing stare in his direction. "She got you where it hurts the most didn't she, Dean? Right in the stomach." He laughed as Dean turned his incredulous gaze back to Jenni.

"You're joking, right?"

"Dead serious." Jenni pushed the chair up next to the bed and locked the breaks. "You want Sam to help you get dressed, or do you want me to do it?"

"Do I have to have an audience?"

"Yes, you don't seem to realize that you have more than fifty stitches in your leg alone, Dean. If you pull those out you are going to be in intense pain and will have to go in for surgery to get them fixed. Then you'll be stuck here for a week – is that what you really want?"

Dean made a face and pushed aside his bed sheets. "Sam?"

Sam took the bundle of clothes Jenni handed to him and nodded to his brother. "Sure, Dean."

Jenni left the brothers alone so Sam could help Dean get dressed.

"You know, Dean, it won't kill you to have someone help you every once in a while."

"Yes it will."

Sam rolled his eyes and helped pull Dean's hospital clothes off and eased him into the dark t-shirt that had been stripped from him earlier. "Yeah whatever."

Dean grimaced as Sam helped him into the loose cotton pajama pants he would be required to wear, as the denim in his jeans could cause more damage than good.

"It's humiliating is what it is." Dean muttered settling back onto the bed as Sam pulled on his socks and boots.

"Better than doing something stupid and having to spend more time here right?"

Dean shrugged and looked up as the door opened and Dr. Burken stuck his head inside.

"Ah, getting ready to get out of here I see." He stepped into the room, a small bundle in his hands.

"Well you know the décor could use a little sprucing up but other than that I feel right at home here."

"Dean." Sam sighed, but Dr. Burken laughed.

"I know how it goes, it's pretty bland around here. But that's best when you want to keep things as sanitary as possible." He unwrapped his bundle and walked around the bed, sitting down in the chair Sam had vacated. "You'll need to wear these for a while – the sling for a week and the brace for a few, until we remove the stitches at least."

Dean grimaced as the sling was lifted over his head and settled against his neck. Sam helped him ease his arm into the device before he assisted Dr. Burken with the leg brace that would isolate Dean's leg movements.

"You'll need a chair for the shower – no excess walking and no standing for long periods of time."

Sam smirked, Dean noticed and glowered at him.

"You'll need to take these as well." Dr. Burken handed Sam a couple prescription bottles. "They'll help fight off infections and will help with the pain. You're still pretty dosed up right now, but you'll be feeling those stitches in the morning."

"Thanks, Doc."

"No problem." Dr. Burken shook Sam's outstretched hand and then Dean's before shoving both his hands into his jacket pockets. "Feel free to call if you have any questions or concerns."

Sam nodded and dropped the pills into his jacket pocket.

Dr. Burken turned to look at Sam, studying him for a minute. "Any more pain? Has the burning come back?"

Sam shook his head, trying to avoid looking at his brother. He could feel Dean's concerned eyes burning him and didn't want to discuss his own condition at the moment.

"Make sure you get your glasses on as soon as you can – or you'll set back your recovery. I'm sure you don't want that. From what I could see your eyes are doing extremely well and a set back could cause several complications."

Sam nodded, still not looking at his brother. "Thanks again, Dr. Burken."

"It's not a problem, have a good night." He turned back to Dean. "Take it easy on that leg."

Dean offered him a strained smile and nodded. "Sure, I'll just settle for some burgers, beer, and porn."

"That's the way to do it." Dr. Burken laughed and nodded at the brothers once more before leaving them alone.

Dean was on Sam instantly, his eyes burning into Sam's. "You didn't tell me that the burning came back, Sam."

"It's nothing, Dean. Just a little flare up."

"Sam, that's serious. Where the hell are your meds and your glasses?"

"Back at the cabin. Can we not discuss this now, Dean, please?"

Dean scowled but nodded as Jenni entered the room. "Fine, but we will talk about this, Sam."

"We have a few things we need to discuss, Dean." Sam met his brother's hard gaze head on.

"Ok, guys, why don't we head out. We can grab some burgers on the way back to the motel."

"Motel?" Dean asked sending Jenni and Sam a puzzled glance. "Am I missing something?"

"We checked into the Guesthouse Inn just down the next block. We wanted to be close – just in case we needed to stay here for a couple days. But I think we'll stick around until tomorrow at least. I don't think I'm up to driving back to the cabin tonight."

"You won't be driving at all." Dean muttered.

"Well you certainly won't. You can't even walk – and driving would put a lot of pressure on your stitches, which will increase your chances of busting them. I think that is a stupid risk to take for a few hours behind the wheel, Dean. It's not like I haven't driven her before."

"Yeah, while I was unconscious."

"Well you don't have much of a choice do you? So suck it up." Jenni turned to Sam giving him a warm smile when she saw the suppressed laughter he was failing to hide. "You ready to get this stubborn ass out of here?"

"Guess we better, I doubt that the nurses around here are cute enough to entertain him. If we don't leave with him now he'll just do something stupid then kick our asses for leaving him later."

Dean scowled at the pair of them. "Hilarious – can we go please?"

Smirking, Jenni and Sam helped Dean into the wheelchair. Sam let Jenni take the handles as he didn't want to accidentally run Dean into a wall, but kept a hand on Dean's shoulder as Jenni turned to the door and the trio left the room.

***

Dr. Burken sighed and leaned back in his desk chair, straightening a few papers and placing them into one of the many manila folders that were scattered around the mahogany desktop. He glanced briefly at his watch and frowned as he saw the hands ticking closer to the midnight mark. He had put in a good nineteen-hour day and was still nowhere close to where he should be before he headed for home.

He picked up his coffee cup and sniffed at it before taking a small sip. He grimaced and set it down again, pushing it to the far edge of the desk. The cold drink wasn't appetizing and left a tangy aftertaste in his mouth. He licked at his lips and shook his head, as he looked over the files. He picked up Jack Winfield's file and flipped it open. He made a few notes on one of the pieces of paper inside and was closing it when his office door opened.

A young girl, no older than twenty-five, entered the room. Her short brown hair stood out in spikes with a few loose strands dangling into her eyes. She had a small black purse slung over one shoulder and her white jacket was being held closely to her, held in one fist while the other was in her pocket.

"Marian? What are you still doing here? It's late – don't you have class in the morning?" Dr. Burken eyed the young student; picking up Jack's file and tapping it against his leg as he leaned back further in the chair.

"Sorry to bother you, Dr. Burken, but I needed to ask you something."

"Of course, come in."

The med student walked across the small office and sat in one of the seats on the opposite side of the desk.

"What can I help you with?"

"Well, Dr. Burken, to be honest I'm concerned."

"Is it about your final exams?"

"No – this seems so silly."

Dr. Burken narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, dropping the file he was holding onto the desk. "What is it?"

"That man that you had me running the tests for earlier – those wounds, do you really think they were animal attacks?"

"I don't see why they'd say they were if they weren't."

"I've never seen so much damage from an animal attack before."

Dr. Burken sighed and gave the young student a small half smile. "You're going to see much worse in this career path I'm afraid. I've seen much worse – in fact one of the first cases I ever had was a young girl hit by a car. It was something I will never forget – she wasn't conscious but her heart was still beating, but the damage done…well, we couldn't do much to help her."

"Dr. Burken, I don't know if – I just don't know if I'm ready for this."

"That's something you have to decide for yourself, Marian, I can't help you with that. It's a hard career, and the choices you make will affect other people. You may save a lot of lives but you need to prepare yourself for the fact that you will end up killing people as well."

"I want to help people, I like learning about this stuff."

"I honestly think, Marian, if you want to do this you can. You're one of the best students I've seen this year, and I'm proud of all you've accomplished."

"I don't think I want to work in a major hospital though, maybe a small clinic."

"I think you'd do better in a smaller clinic – I'm guessing you'll need a letter of recommendation?"

"If you wouldn't mind – I am graduating in about a month. Do you know of any small clinics I could apply to?"

"There might be someone I can talk to – she works in a small clinic and I'm sure she'd be happy to help. Let me make a few calls and I'll let you know by the end of the week."

Marian nodded and rose. "Thank you, Dr. Burken."

"No problem, good night."

"Night." The young student left the office, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Dr. Burken again glanced at his watch then opened Jack's file, running over several papers before selecting one and reading the number on it. "I'll just leave a message." He muttered picking up the phone and dialing.

***

Sunlight pooled in through the partially closed curtains, and hit him square in the face. Sam squinted and turned his head away from the window burying his face into his pillow. The musty smell that all motels seemed to have were saturated into pillowcases, making it hard for him to breathe. He groaned and turned his head to the opposite side of the room, opening one eye to see how Dean was doing.

The opposite bed was empty, the bed sheets rumpled and the comforter in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. Sam propped himself up on his elbows, blinking heavily and trying to focus. The bedroom door was closed and the soft sounds of voices were coming from the other side.

Sam pushed aside the bed sheets and rose from the bed, accidentally bumping the nightstand and stubbing his toe on the corner of the bed frame. The soft carpet quieted his footsteps as he made his way across the small bedroom and the sounds of the distant voices slowly grew louder, as if someone was adjusting the sound on a stereo.

He had just reached the door and had his hand on the knob when he paused, hesitating when he heard his name in a low tone. He stilled and leaned his head against the door, listening.

"I think I should apologize to him – I shouldn't have been telling him what to do." Jenni's voice sounded muffled on the other side of the thin wood, Sam pressed his ear against harder.

He waited, certain that Dean wouldn't agree with her.

"I think it's probably best." Dean finally said quietly – his voice so soft that Sam almost didn't catch it. "Sam might get a little heated, but he knows what he's doing."

"Do you think he's angry?"

Sam heard Dean sigh quietly.

"It's hard to tell with Sam sometimes. He didn't seem mad yesterday when I saw you guys."

"He had calmed down by then, he was really quiet in the car."

"Sam gets like that though, I wouldn't worry about it, Jenni. If Sam has something on his mind he usually lets you know."

"Dean, Sam was talking to me about a lot of stuff yesterday when we were in the waiting area."

"What kind of stuff?"

"He told me about what happened to your Dad. I don't think he wants to admit it but he's having a really hard time with his death."

"Dad and Sammy never really got along. Sam had to question everything Dad ever told us to do – always wanting to know why we had to do something. It made Dad mad and he and Sam would fight – they did that a lot. They were just too much alike I guess, it was hard seeing them like that."

"You were the center ground?"

"I never liked it when they'd fight. I'd break it up before things got too far, but sometimes it wasn't enough – and one time I wasn't there to break them up fast enough."

"What do you mean?"

"It's nothing – never mind." Dean sounded tired.

"Ok, well are you ready for breakfast then?"

"You even have to ask?"

Sam twisted the knob and pushed open the door, faking a yawn and rubbing at his eyes as he emerged.

Dean was sitting at the table, half slumped, his good elbow resting on the table and his hand cupped under his chin. His right arm was still strapped to his torso in a sling and his right leg was propped up on a vacant chair.

Jenni looked up and offered Sam a small smile as he entered the room. "Morning, Sam."

"Morning." Sam mumbled as he took a seat opposite his brother.

Dean lazily lifted his eyes to meet Sam's for a brief moment before he dropped them down to the tabletop once more.

Sam looked away as well – the brothers hadn't spoken much the night before, but had rather sat in an awkward silence, sending each other occasional accusing glares.

Sam knew that the silence wouldn't last long and he wasn't looking forward to the heated discussion he knew would follow. He was certainly going to tell Dean exactly how he felt about him going off to face the harpy on his own. He was sure that Dean would give him an earful for being neglectful and forgetting his glasses as well, it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Jenni set a cup of coffee down in front of each of the brothers. "I'm afraid the motel doesn't offer a free breakfast – we'll have to go out and get it."

Dean glared up at her and reached for his coffee, downing half of the hot brew.

Sam stared into his cup, rubbing his fingers idly up and down the warm surface of his mug. "What time are we heading back?"

"Soon as you guys feel up to going."

Sam looked up at Dean who was staring at Jenni, his expression blank.

"We could get breakfast on the way to the cabin – that way we don't need to come back here." Sam offered, shrugging when Dean turned to stare at him.

"Dean – you ok with that?"

"That's fine."

"Ok – Sam, why don't you help Dean get dressed and I'll grab our stuff. I'll meet you at the car in ten minutes?"

"I don't need help." Dean grumbled. "Not a freakin' invalid."

"Never said you were." Jenni said lightly setting her coffee cup on the counter next to the small sink. She dumped the rest of the coffee down the drain and rinsed the pot with cool water and set it beside her mug.

The brothers sat in silence as Jenni finished cleaning up the coffee mess and disappeared into her bedroom – exiting a moment later with a small bundle. She wasted no time in leaving the motel room, closing the door behind her.

Dean's gaze traveled back to Sam, his eyes exceptionally hard.

"Don't look at me like that, Dean." Sam rose and dumped his untouched coffee down the drain, and filled the mug with water. He set it along side Jenni's and turned back to face his brother, leaning against the counter.

"I wasn't lookin' at you like anything." Dean muttered lifting his mug and finishing the remains of his coffee.

Sam cocked an eyebrow, waiting.

"Was the pain bad yesterday, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "I've had worse."

Dean narrowed his eyes – studying Sam carefully. "It was bad though, wasn't it?"

"I just overdid it is all – no big deal. I'm fine now. That's all that matters."

"No big deal?" Dean's eyebrows lifted high on his forehead and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Sam, do you realize how serious a stunt like that could have been? What that could have cost you?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't care."

"You don't care?" Dean shifted in the chair, and half attempted to rise. Sam had no doubt that if Dean could have risen he would have. Fortunately, for Sam, Dean's injuries were making him immobile at the moment.

"No, Dean, I didn't care – I was a little preoccupied with trying to get you help."

"No one asked you to."

"No, but we didn't have much choice either, Dean."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What the hell were you thinking going after this thing on your own, Dean? Knowing what it was capable of?"

"Don't start, Sam."

"You could have gotten yourself killed, Dean! If we hadn't come looking for you when we did…" Sam glowered at his brother, ignoring the headache that was starting behind his eyes.

"I'm fine, see me here – alive?"

"Because we dragged you back to the cabin and stitched you up. Dean, those injuries were serious!"

"Gee – thanks for the memo, think I missed that one."

Sam rolled his eyes and studied the floor for a moment. "You don't get it – do you, Dean? You won't stop until you kill yourself."

"I didn't go out there to die, Sam!"

"Then why'd you go out there? Without backup? Without taking me with you?"

"Sam, I've already seen this bitch tear you apart once – I'm not going to watch that happen again."

"So what? I get to sit by and watch you get torn apart instead?"

Dean shrugged and rubbed at his injured arm, pulling at the bandages. "If it keeps you safe."

Sam chomped down so hard on his tongue that he tasted blood. "Why the hell is my life anymore important than yours, Dean? Why is it that I deserve to live but you don't?"

"I never said that."

"No – but you don't have to. Your actions speak loud and clear."

"It's not like that."

"Then, please, explain to me what it is about. Because you lost me."

Dean shook his head and laughed a humorless laugh. "You wouldn't understand."

"That's always it – isn't it, Dean? I won't get it, so why bother trying to explain to me? If you don't give a damn about playing the safe card why should I?"

Dean's eyes shot up to Sam's – hot and angry. "Cause I won't let you."

"You gonna stop me?"

"If I have to."

Sam's eyes narrowed, matching Dean's glare. The pounding behind his eyes was getting harder to ignore now as it was sending shooting pains through his skull and making all the nerves in his skin tingle. He lifted a hand and rubbed softly at his temple, trying to still the sharp pain.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"I'm fine." Sam spat through clenched teeth – purposefully keeping his eyes open and refusing to let his knees buckle. In reality he was anything but fine and he wanted nothing more then to curl up with a cold compress and rest his head.

"Sam?"

Sam closed his eyes, focusing on Dean's voice. The world was a blur, he couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't stand, couldn't do anything but rub at the pain in his temples. It was increasing, making it hard to do anything, making the hated tears pool in his eyes and trickle down his cheeks.

Someone grabbed his arms and pushed him up against a solid surface, and a familiar hand, so tough and yet so gentle at the same time, cupped his chin and tilted his head up. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly, studying the soft cotton pants that Dean wore.

He reached forward and touched the soft material, a smile curling at the corners of his lips as the light baby blue color came into better focus.

"Sam? Sammy? Answer me, damn it!"

Sam lifted a hand and rested it on Dean's left arm, pulling his gaze slowly up to meet Dean's eyes. He smiled as the irises in Dean's eyes swam with a soft bluish tinge.

"Sam? Are you ok?"

"I'm ok – I'm fine." Sam nodded slowly and pulled back. Dean dropped his left hand to Sam's knee, continuing to stare eagerly at his brother.

"Dude, what the hell happened to you? You went white – and you were trembling. Thought you were gonna pass out on me."

"No – just a headache, I'm fine."

"No you're not. We should get you checked out – see what's going on with those eyes."

"I don't want to go to the doctor."

"Tough shit – after that stunt you just pulled you think you aren't going?"

"I'm fine, Dean, honest."

"Right – I'll believe that when I see it."

"Think my eyesight is getting better."

"Sam, whatever this is – it isn't getting better. It's getting worse – you need…"

"Your pants are blue."

"Of course they are most hospi…" Dean trailed off his eyes widening as realization hit him. "You can see the color?"

"They're a baby blue." Sam said softly, dropping his hand from Dean's arm and lowering his eyes to look at Dean's pants once more. He toyed with the soft cotton, enjoying the soft baby blue color more and more with each second.

Dean's eyes widened again and he cupped Sam's face in both hands, ignoring the burning that immediately started in his right arm as he pulled at the stitches. "Are you serious, Sammy? You can see colors?"

"Not all of them – just blue for now." Sam cocked his head and looked at Dean, his eyebrows narrowing slightly. "I always remembered your eyes to be green though – but they look blue."

"My eyes are green, Sam. But if you can only see blue maybe that's why you're seeing them in blue."

Sam shrugged. "Maybe – I don't know, seems kind of strange."

"We'll figure this out, dude. How's the headache?"

Sam closed his eyes and breathed deeply – trying to focus on the pain that was barely noticeable now. "It's manageable."

"Good. Now help me up."

"Dean – how'd you get over here?" Sam looked over Dean's shoulder to see the two toppled chairs and got a better look at the way Dean's lower body was angled – his eyes widening in shock. "Dean! What the hell did you do?"

He reached over gently testing his brother's bandaged right leg – the bandage was still dry and he couldn't detect any foreign splotches that would indicate torn stitches.

"I didn't tear the needlework, Samantha, calm down."

"You could have, Dean!"

"Well I didn't – so don't get your panties in a bunch."

Sam pushed to his feet then bent down and wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, helping him to his feet. Dean leaned on his left leg, slipping his right arm back into the sling and sighing as the pain subsided somewhat.

"Did you have your meds yet?"

"Yes, Sam, before you got your lazy ass out of bed."

The brothers made their way slowly to the room – Dean half limping half hopping and Sam trying his best to carry as much of Dean's weight as he could.

"You need to lay off the hamburgers, dude." Sam complained as he lowered Dean to the closest bed and closed the door – allowing them some form of privacy in case Jenni came back.

Dean chuckled and shook his head. "It's all the leafy rabbit food you eat that's bad for you, Sammy boy."

"Right, and deep fried cow is good for you?"

"Damn straight – lots of protein. Helps build muscles."

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Whatever – let's get you dressed before Jenni thinks that we've killed each other."

"Whatever – I'd so kick your ass."

"Excuse me?" Sam asked bemused as he pulled his brother's shirt off the dresser where he had placed it the night before.

"You heard me – I kicked your ass more times than I can count."

"You cheat."

"No I don't – you're just a wimp."

"Florida? The swamp monster and a large puddle of…I don't think I want to remember."

"Swamp mud, Sammy, do you think I'd really dump in you in a pile of swamp monster shit?"

"Yes, if you're bored I know you would." Sam laughed and this time Dean joined him.

"I'm offended, Sammy." Dean said breathlessly once he was able to control his laughter.

"Right." Sam untied the sling and slid Dean's arm out, carefully examining the bandage before slipping the sling off Dean's neck and pulling the t-shirt over Dean's head.

Dean slipped his left arm into the sleeve without difficulty, but Sam insisted on helping with the right arm. He was barely able to suppress a wince as the tender flesh covered by the bulky bandages brushed roughly against the soft material of his shirt.

Sam noticed but didn't say anything, knowing Dean didn't want attention drawn to it. Instead he adjusted his brother's arm as gently as he could before helping Dean to get the sling back on and placing the injured arm back in it. He tied the straps tightly around Dean's back, keeping the arm pinned to Dean's torso.

Dean winced as his arm brushed against his bandaged chest. "Easy, Sammy."

"Sorry, Dean." Sam loosened the ties and Dean relaxed a little. "Ready to go down to the car?"

"The thought of a chick driving my car." Dean shook his head and Sam grinned.

"Think she wanted to test the old girl's limits."

Dean's head snapped up and he turned his head so fast Sam was fairly certain he heard a sharp pop. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin', it's not like anything happened anyway."

"What did she do? I swear if she screwed up the engine by doing something stupid…"

"Dean, calm down, she didn't do anything."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "Yes she did – what'd she do?"

"Just tested the accelerator – she really got us to the hospital in a rush."

Dean's jaw tensed and he turned his head as the motel door opened and Jenni's soft footfalls entered the main area. "I'm gonna kill her!" Dean rose, his bad leg trembling under him.

"Whoa – Dean!" Sam grabbed his brother's arm and wrapped it around his shoulders. "Take it easy!"

"Don't tell me to take it easy – it's bad enough that she was driving her, but she was abusing her!"

"Dean, it's a car."

Dean sent Sam a hard glare and tried to pull out of Sam's grasp but Sam held firm. "Let go."

"Stop being an ass, Dean. You'll fall on your face and won't be any good to anyone – now let me help you."

"Jenni – get your ass in here!"

The bedroom door creaked open and Jenni poked her head around the edge. "You need a hand?"

"Gimme the keys – you aren't driving her again."

Jenni pushed the door open the rest of the way her eyebrows lifting in amusement. "So who do you want to drive? Sam? I doubt his vision has expanded far enough to make him a safe driver."

"I'm driving." Dean tried to push away from Sam, but Sam once again tightened his grip.

"No you're not. You'll tear your stitches."

Dean glowered at her. "Well you sure as hell aren't driving!"

"So you want to stay here? That's fine – but I'll need to go to the cabin to get some more supplies – plus Sam's medication and glasses. While I'm out I think I'll go cross country – how does the old girl do off road?"

Sam felt Dean sag against him and had to fight to keep his feet. He knew it was meant to be a joke – but to Dean the impala's care was anything but funny. Dean was sucking in deep breaths and blowing them out in heavy gusts.

"Hey, Dean, hey – take it easy." Sam lifted Dean up higher and set him back on the edge of the bed.

Jenni was instantly serious, dropping down on the opposite side of Dean. "Dean?"

Dean looked up at her, is eyes incredulous. "Cross country – a classic?"

"It was a joke, Dean. Didn't know you'd take it so serious." Jenni shrugged and looked at Sam but he was focusing solely on Dean.

"Not funny." Dean muttered leaning forward and pressing his left palm against his eyes.

"Tell you what, Dean. You walk down to the impala – without our help, and without busting your stitches and I'll let you drive."

Sam sent a frantic glance at her, but Jenni shook her head at him.

"Fine – gimme the keys."

"Get to the impala first and I'll give you the keys." Jenni turned to Sam and pushed to her feet. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Sam?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam rose as well, sending Dean an anxious glance as he followed Jenni out of the bedroom and out to the main area.

"Sam, I want to apologize for yesterday. I shouldn't have been bossing you around – trying to tell you what to do. You know what's best for you, it wasn't my place."

Sam shifted awkwardly; he sent another desperate glance in the direction of the bedroom. "It's fine, Jenni – I'm not mad."

"I know, but I just wanted you to know."

"Do you think we should leave him in there alone?"

"He's going to have to learn his limitations some way, Sam. This seems like the best way."

A loud thud sounded from the bedroom and an angry curse followed.

"That's your cue, do you need help?"

"No – I've got it."

"Ok, I'll meet you at the car."

Sam nodded and hurried back to the bedroom, immediately sinking down beside his brother and reaching under Dean's left shoulder to help him up.

"Get off me." Dean growled, pushing Sam's hand away and pushing himself up onto his elbow. He glared at his brother, breathing heavily, his eyes sparking with anger. Sam didn't miss the perspiration that was dotting Dean's brow and beginning to soak into the top of his t-shirt.

"Dean, don't be stupid – you need help."

"I can do it." Dean muttered rocking himself up into a half sit, and using the bed as a leverage as he pulled himself into a standing position. He wiped his arm against his brow, sighing. "See – no problem."

"Dean, this is dumb."

"Only to you." Dean stumbled forward a step – reaching for the wall as his injured leg wobbled dangerously beneath him. Sam reached forward to help but Dean held out his palm, stopping him. "No help from you – remember? I can do this."

Dean staggered forward, using the wall for support but refusing any aid from Sam. He was damp with sweat by the time they made it to the balcony outside the motel and Sam was getting frantic. The stairs were steep and he didn't want Dean falling down them because he was being stubborn.

"Ok, Dean, you've proved your point. Let me help you."

"I've got it." Dean muttered pulling away from Sam's arm and gripping tightly to the banister as he eased his way down to the steps.

"Dean, I'm begging you. Please, don't do this."

"I said I'm fine, Sam." Dean snapped. This might have had more affect if Dean hadn't wobbled while saying it – forcing him to grab onto the banister tightly to stop himself from falling.

"Dean! Don't do this!" Sam grabbed Dean's arm but Dean shrugged out of Sam's grip and plowed ahead to the spiraling stairway.

His legs were trembling violently under him by the time he made it to the top of the stairs, and Sam was hovering anxiously behind him. Dean ignored both and lifted his left leg, placing it gingerly on the lower step, and steadying himself before allowing the right leg to follow. He could feel his stamina giving out – but he wasn't going to give in without a fight.

The next three steps went as planned, but as Dean's right leg hit the fifth stair – he felt his leg give out on him as it buckled. Dean's sweaty palms, unable to get a firm grip on the railing, slipped and he felt himself tumbling forward. He closed his eyes, ready for the inevitable thump of the metal stairs that would greet him when he fell – along with the several others behind it and not too long after that, the unyielding pavement.

"Dean!" Jenni's horrified voice sounded from somewhere below, but Dean couldn't concentrate on that.

It took him a minute to realize that he wasn't falling, rather something strong was gripping the back of his shirt and holding it tightly in a hold that made it bunch in several uncomfortable places.

"Damn it, Dean, why the hell didn't you listen to me?" Sam snapped as he quickly wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and pulled Dean's left arm over his shoulders. "Hold onto me, and take it easy on that leg."

Dean was too exhausted to argue. He allowed Sam to help him down the remaining stairs and to the impala, where Sam helped him into the backseat, propping his leg up on a spare pillow he retrieved from the trunk. He also retrieved some Advil from the first aid kit and one of the many half filled water bottles that were scattered about the floor.

"Take these." Sam demanded shoving both items into Dean's hands. He slipped another pillow behind Dean's back and pushed up the cotton material of Dean's pants, checking the bandage carefully.

"Didn't bust anything, Sam." Dean said swallowing the pills with only a small sip of the warm, unappetizing water.

"No – but it's swelling, badly. We'll have to loosen the bandages." Sam lifted the leg and began to gently unwind the bandages, Jenni hurried around to the trunk to grab the first aid kit – just in case.

Dean watched with rapt fascination as the bandages were removed to reveal swollen red and purple flesh. Several small black stitches were across a long puffy red line that started just below his hip and traveled halfway down his thigh. The injury looked pretty bad – he was impressed. "Cool."

Sam cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly not amused. "Not cool, Dean. You could have done some serious damage with that little stunt of yours."

"Come on, Sammy, chicks dig scars."

"You have enough to know." Sam muttered as Jenni returned with the first aid kit.

"Did he bust any?"

"No – they look ok. It's amazing that he didn't."

Two pairs of angry eyes turned to look at Dean who just smiled and shrugged.

"I'm Superman."

Jenni chuckled but Sam let out an exasperated huff. "Yeah, you're Superman."

"How about Batman – he's better."

"He's fine – we'll put this on it." Sam shook a small plastic bag hard, tested it with the back of his hand then placed it against Dean's swollen flesh.

Dean started at the cold icepack and pressed against the pillow behind his back, letting out a soft groan. "Damn, that's cold."

"It'll help with the swelling – leave it there." Sam shut the door and dropped the first aid kit into the trunk before walking to the passenger side and slipping in. Jenni got in behind the wheel and stuck the key in the ignition – turning it and smiling as the impala's engine roared.

"So – Dean…" Jenni asked looking back at him. "What's it gonna be – Metallica or Black Sabbath?"

***

Sam knew that Dean would be difficult – Dean was a difficult patient under the best of circumstances, but two days after their return to the cabin and even Sam was on his last nerve. Dean was stubborn, insisting he could do everything on his own and had almost ripped his stitches more than once trying to do more than his injured body would allow.

Sam had helped out where he could, changing the dressings on Dean's wounds, helping Dean to get dressed, bringing Dean his meals on a tray. He even helped Dean hobble around the cabin so Dean wouldn't be stuck in the bedroom with nothing to stare at but the blank walls. He had helped Dean into the lounge chair, but Dean wasn't happy about the small TV that produced more static than entertainment and Sam had eventually gotten tired of hearing Dean grumble about it and left him to his own devices.

When Dean was ready for a shower, Sam was there to get him to the bathroom and helped him strip down to his boxers. He would rewrap Dean's leg and arm in waterproof bandages before leaving Dean to finish on his own – giving him some semblance of dignity. Dean was still miffed about the idea that he had to sit on a chair while in the shower, but his leg was too weak to support him for any length of time. After his first attempt to walk down to the impala that first day his leg had rebelled against him if he was on it for any length of time.

That made it exceptionally easier for Sam when he had to help his brother out, but it also made Dean crankier than hell. Something Sam was really getting tired of – he tried to be patient, knowing Dean was trying to take some semblance of control over his situation in the only way he could. It didn't make Sam any happier though – and Jenni had gotten fed up with Dean's rude remarks the first day and left his care in Sam's hands while she tended to the cabin and made sure that hot meals were ready when Dean was hungry.

Sam stepped into the kitchen, rubbing a hand through his messy hair. He had just helped Dean get back to the bedroom after his late morning shower and needed a small break – Dean would need to have lunch soon as it was almost time for his pain medications.

Jenni had her back to him, working furiously with something on the counter while a large pot of water boiled on the stove.

"Need a hand?" Sam asked as he stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. The sooner they got food and pain medications in Dean the sooner Dean would fall asleep and they would have some peace and quiet for a couple hours.

"If you want to finish grating the cheese that would be great." Jenni said shaking her hands free of the few pieces of grated cheese that had stuck to her hands. She stepped over to the fridge and pulled out a jug of milk and a cube of butter.

Sam picked up a block of what appeared to be pale blue cheese and began running it up and down the sharp edge of the grater. Small curls of cheese fell down onto the counter. "What kind of cheese is this?"

"Mozzarella, when you get a good size pile put it in the casserole dish, Sam." Jenni instructed as she cut two tablespoons of butter off the cube before putting it in a small glass bowl and sticking it in the microwave. She set it for half a minute and started it then grabbed a measuring cup and poured a cup of milk into it before putting both the milk and butter back in the fridge.

"Your water is boiling." Sam observed as he looked at large pot and bubbling water within.

Jenni swore loudly and hurried to the stove. "I forgot all about it." She pulled out a small container of macaroni noodles and poured most of the contents into the boiling water before turning down the heat.

Sam placed the curls of pale blue cheese into the casserole dish and began to grate some more.

"Do some of the sharp cheese, Sam, that way they get mixed evenly." Jenni instructed as she pulled the flour container from its spot as well as a small canister of salt.

Sam set aside the mozzarella and picked up a block of a dark almost grayish in tinge cheese and began to run that up and down the grater. The bluish gray cheese didn't curl as much as the light blue one had – he looked to see if Jenni was watching and when convinced that she wasn't he picked up a few of the small straight pieces of grated cheese and popped them into his mouth.

The sharp cheese had a tang that made his taste buds reel, he'd never tasted anything like it. He wasn't sure if he really liked it. He shook his head and continued to grate the cheese and Jenni came over and examined the noodles, scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon to stop them from sticking.

"I hope you like macaroni and cheese." Jenni said tapping the spoon against the edge of the pan and hurrying back to the small glass bowl filled with melted butter. She poured in two tablespoons of flour and a fourth a teaspoon of salt. She whisked them with a wire whisk and set it aside. She set the measuring cup with the milk in the microwave and set the timer for two minutes.

"We used to have the boxed kind when we were little." Sam shrugged and dumped the sharp cheese into the casserole dish along with the mozzarella. He lifted the light blue block again and began grating once more.

Jenni joined him and began to mix the grated cheeses together with her fingers. "You mean the kind with the powdered cheese?"

"I don't know – I never made it. Dean did – he always took care of that stuff."

"Hmm – well I never cared for that myself." Jenni chewed her lip thoughtfully. She stopped mixing the cheeses and went back to the stove to stir the noodles.

Sam finished off the last of the light blue block and dumped the curls into the casserole dish then picked up the last of the bluish gray block. "I got pretty sick of it – Dean wasn't happy when he'd fix something and I wouldn't eat it." His lips curled in a half smile as he remembered.

"I don't blame you – there aren't that many things a kid can make that come from a can or a box are there?"

Sam shrugged and flexed his fingers, trying to ease the cramps that were starting to make his joints ache. His shoulder started to burn from the constant up and down motion of his arm. He hadn't worked out in so long that his muscles were starting to protest.

Jenni hurried to the microwave when it beeped and pulled out the boiling milk. She poured it into the glass dish and whisked it again before setting it in the microwave and adjusted the power level and timing.

"So how is he today?"

"Same as he was yesterday – doubt he'll be in a better mood until he's more mobile. Dean hates being dependent on others – he likes being able to fend for himself."

"He never did strike me as one who accepted help easily. He's got a stubborn streak in him that's a thousand miles long."

"Only a thousand? I could've sworn it was longer than that." Sam joked as he finished the block and dumped the last of the cheese into the casserole dish and mixed the cheeses around as Jenni had done before.

"Perhaps you're right." Jenni agreed, checking the timer on the microwave before opening the small door and stirring the steamy contents of the bowl before starting it up again. "How do the noodles look?"

Sam looked into the pot and eyed the fat noodles. "Um – I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be looking for. But they look fat…" He picked up the wooden spoon and pushed it against the noodles. It easily squished them against the bottom of the pan. "…and they feel soft."

Jenni laughed as she stepped up to the stove and pulled a couple noodles out with the wooden spoon. She dropped them onto her hand and quickly passed them back and forth between her palms, cooling the noodles. She offered one to Sam before popping the other into her mouth.

Sam popped the noodle into his mouth and let it roll around on his tongue before he squished it between his teeth. "So?"

"I think they're done." Jenni pulled a strainer from the cupboard above the stove and set it in the sink. She grabbed the pan by the handle and dumped the cooked noodles into the strainer, just as the microwave beeped. "Sam, will you get the bowl? Get some hot pads – it will be hot."

Sam picked up a couple of the hot pads Jenni had dumped on the counter and opened the microwave, pulling out the small glass bowl and looking at the frothy gray bubbling substance, wrinkling his nose at the strange smell.

"Not used to the smell of hot milk?" Jenni asked not missing the wrinkled nose and narrowed suspicious eyes.

"Is it supposed to smell like that?"

Jenni laughed. "Sam, you might have to help me in the kitchen with every meal."

"Why?"

"Because it reminds me of when I started to cook – everything was so new, I had to be a skeptic about everything, making sure I did it right." Jenni laughed again and shook the strained noodles, getting the last of the water droplets off them.

Sam set the bowl onto the counter. "Anything else I can help you with?"

Jenni sighed and tucked a stray loose of hair around her ear then washed her hands. "No – it will only take me a minute to finish this up so lunch should be ready in less than ten minutes. Go ahead and have a seat."

Sam sat at the table, propping his elbows up on the smooth surface as Jenni pulled on some mittens and lifted the hot glass bowl filled with the foamy substance and poured it over the grated cheeses. Sam could see the cheeses sink deeper into the bowl as the milky mixture made it melt. He wrinkled his nose a little – the color of the food did nothing to stimulate his appetite. "I don't know if I'll ever get used to seeing everything in one color."

Jenni stirred at the mixture with a fresh wooden spoon, not stopping until she had mixed both ingredients as best she could. She then went back to the sink, grabbed the strainer full of cooked macaroni noodles and dumped them into the bowl, stirring them until every single one of them was coated with the cheesy mixture. She then placed the lid on the bowl, set it in the microwave for five minutes and joined Sam at the table. "Your eyes are just adjusting, Sam, it's amazing that they've picked up things this fast. I thought we'd have to wait a few more weeks before you saw anything besides the grays and blacks." She chuckled and shook her head, flexing her fingers before rubbing at the tips of them. "I haven't made macaroni in so long – I've forgotten how much work it is."

"You really don't need to go through all this work for us, Jenni."

"It's no problem, Sam." Jenni waved him off. "In all honesty it's really nice to have someone to cook for besides myself. I get so tired of eating all the leftovers in my fridge – most of them go bad before I finish them."

"It's nice to have something other than burgers." Sam chuckled pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think that thing – that harpy is still out there?"

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah, she's still out there alright."

"She's going to go after more people isn't she?"

"Probably – you know there's one thing that's really bugging me though."

"What's that?"

"All the blood we found out there when we went after Dean – it seemed like it was too much blood for it just to be his didn't it? If it was just Dean's blood he should have bled out before we got there."

"Do you think someone else was out there?" Jenni asked her eyes suddenly worried.

Sam shook his head, unhappy. "I don't know, but if there was we just left them out there."

"Do you think Dean saw something?"

"Probably, but I don't want to ask him. He's been really unpleasant today."

"Do you think he'd talk to me?"

"Maybe – it's more likely that he'll be more civil with you."

Jenni rose as the microwave beeped and pulled the hot casserole dish from the microwave, setting it on a hot pad. She pulled three bowls down from the cupboard and began to spoon some of the homemade macaroni and cheese into each one. "Maybe I'll take him his lunch today then. You look like you could use a little breather anyway."

"Thanks, Jenni." Sam accepted the bowl she handed to him. He stirred the contents around with his fork.

"There's beer, soda, and water in the fridge. Help yourself to anything." Jenni said grabbing the tray that Sam had been using from its place next to the sink. She set a bowl of macaroni and a bottle of water onto it.

Sam rose from his seat and grabbed a bottle of beer. He twisted off the lid and tossed it onto the table, taking a long swig as Jenni put her own bowl onto the tray and headed out of the kitchen.

He went back to his place and shook his head sadly as he looked at the cheesy concoction before him. If he had left someone out there – someone he hadn't even bothered looking for because he was too worried about his brother, his thoughts trailed off and he ducked his head for a brief moment as his guilt swept over him. He was almost a hundred percent positive that someone else was out there – the blood had been everywhere, splattered all over the trees, covering the foliage, soaking up in the dirt.

Sam dropped the fork he had been toying with and pushed his bowl away, suddenly not at all hungry. He fisted his fingers in his tangled hair and stared out the back window – looking at the dark trees. Someone was out there – someone that was dead, and someone, some loved one, was going out of their mind with worry. Sam rose slowly, looked over his shoulder to make sure Jenni hadn't double back because she had forgotten something. Then he hurried over to the back door, opened it quietly and slipped out. If there was someone out there he was going to find them, he closed the door so softly behind him that it didn't even click.

***

"Hey, Dean." Jenni knocked softly on the bedroom door with her knuckles and pushed the door open.

Dean was on the bed, covered in blankets and looking very cross. He had dark circles under his eyes and his skin was still a little pale and had an almost waxen appearance as beads of sweat dotted his brow.

"I brought you some lunch." Jenni said entering the room and settling herself into the chair that Sam had brought in the first night. Jenni set the tray on Dean's lap and lifted her own bowl, setting it down on her knees.

Dean picked up his fork and stabbed it into the cheesy noodles. "Where's Sam?"

"He's in the kitchen – eating."

Dean scowled and lifted a forkful of macaroni noodles to his mouth – a long string of cheese stuck to the fork trailing it as Dean slid the utensil between his teeth. The stringy cheese stuck to his chin and Dean brushed it away with the back of his hand.

Jenni lifted a forkful and twisted the cheesy strands around her fork before popping it into her mouth.

"Where'd you get this?" Dean asked picking up another forkful and lifting it to his mouth, this time managing without a cheese string.

"Sam and I made it – it's an old family recipe."

"Sam helped?"

Jenni would have laughed at the look on Dean's face if he weren't looking so serious. "Yes, Sam helped."

"Huh – looks like Samantha is learning some new skills." A suddenly evil grin turned the corners of his mouth and his eyes got a strange glow that Jenni had never seen before. "Did you make him wear an apron?"

Jenni shook her head and laughed. "No – I skipped out on the hairnet as well."

Dean almost choked on the mouthful he was working on.

"Hey, Dean, I hate to bring this up – but Sam and I think it's important."

"What is it?" Dean grimaced at the water bottle but opened it and took a small sip.

"When we found you out there – there was a lot of blood. Too much for it to be your blood, there wasn't someone else out there was there?"

Dean suddenly froze, all the color draining from his face, his eyes going wide in shock. Jenni set her bowl down onto the floor and grabbed Dean's arm, squeezing gently as Dean's horrified eyes turned back to look at her.

"Harry, holy crap."

"Dean?"

Dean shook his head and cleared his throat, his hands tightening into fists around the bed sheets that were on top of him. "Harry – there was this guy named Harry."

"Harry? Did you get a last name?"

Dean shook his head. "Poor bastard was torn up real bad when I found him – the harpy had grabbed him." Dean closed his eyes and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, as though trying hard to remember. Jenni frowned as she watched Dean struggle to recall the memory.

"There was nothing I could do for him – he had literally been gutted. His stomach had been torn open and his intestines were spillin' out. He said something to me, but I don't – I can't really remember."

"It's ok, Dean – it's alright."

"No – I had to do something – he needed something from me. I promised." Dean pushed away the tray and pulled out of Jenni's grasp, holding his head in both hands. He had ditched the sling the day before – despite Sam and Jenni's best efforts to keep it on him. They had settled for the fact that he was keeping the wound bandaged and had decided not to press him.

"I know of two guys around here named Harry. One lives on the opposite side of the lake, his name is Harry Clearwater but there is a Harry that lives about half a mile from here named Harry DoLittle."

"He didn't say a last name, he said I had to tell Darla? Delilah? Debra? I can't remember – I was supposed to tell her something."

Jenni felt her stomach tighten suddenly as the image of an older kindly couple popped into her mind. "Dolly?" She guessed her stomach clenching even tighter when Dean's head popped up and he looked at her, his eyes widening as the name clicked in his brain.

"That's it – I was supposed to tell Dolly that he was sorry. He wanted her to know he was sorry that he'd gone out so late, even when she told him not to."

"Oh no." Jenni felt her eyes watering and looked down at her lap.

"Do you know them?"

"Yeah, I know them, Dean." Jenni looked up wiping a finger across the bottom of her eyes to stop her tears from falling. "They don't live very far from here actually – just up the road a ways. Harry and Dolly DoLittle, really nice people."

"She needs to know."

Jenni nodded. "I know – poor Dolly, she must be going out of her mind with worry right now." She looked up at Dean again, meeting his understanding gaze. "Where's the body?"

"Probably where I found it – not far from where you guys found me. It's in a small clearing, hidden right behind a large pine. The harpy didn't want any interruptions when she was ripping him apart."

"I'll have to call the police – and I'll talk to Dolly after the cops tell her. I don't think it'd be a good idea if you told her what Harry said to tell her."

"You're probably right – she might think I'd have had a hand in his death. Not that I stumbled across him right before he died."

"Don't worry, Dean, she'll get the message though. When I go talk to her – I'll work it in somehow."

"Thanks, Jenni, it just seemed really important to him that she know."

"It would be, Dolly was Harry's whole world. Well besides fishing that is – you couldn't get him away from this lake for anything. Dolly used to go fishing with him all the time until her arthritis started acting up – she couldn't hold the pole after that and didn't want to sit in the boat for hours and hours watching Harry fish. So he'd spend the day with her and go fishing at night after she'd gone to bed – she didn't like that very much. Said she had a bad feeling about the lake at night – but Harry did it anyway."

"She told you this?"

"No, Harry did one night. I was at the bar having a beer and he came in right before he headed out to the lake. He had a small fishing boat and liked to take a few bottles out with him. It was really late that night so I asked him if he was seriously going fishing right then – he said that the fish bite better at night."

Dean didn't have anything to say so he just eyed his cooling macaroni, not bothering to try and eat anymore.

"You should take your pain medication, Dean, it's time for it anyway. Don't worry about this – I'll make sure everything is taken care of."

Dean nodded and accepted the pill that Jenni shook out of the prescription bottle – he popped it into his mouth and took a few swallows of water to help it down.

"If you get hungry later just yell." Jenni said placing her bowl back on the tray and lifting it off Dean's lap.

Dean still didn't say anything – and for some reason that bothered Jenni more than if he had. Even if it had been a smart assed comeback. Dean gave the impression that he was rarely left speechless – so for this kind of reaction out of him she knew that it had gotten to him deeply.

When she got back to the kitchen Sam was still at the table, stirring the macaroni around in his bowl, staring blankly at the orange noodles.

"Guess you guys aren't real big on the macaroni are you?" Jenni asked setting the bowls into the sink, and filling them with water so they could soak.

Sam looked up at her. "Huh?"

Jenni nodded to the bowl that clearly hadn't been touched. "Dean didn't eat much of it either."

"No – I'm sure it's fine, Jenni. I'm just not real hungry."

Jenni lifted an eyebrow skeptically, sensing that something was bothering Sam. She took a seat opposite of him and looked at him curiously. "Sam? You ok?"

Sam didn't answer but continued to stare ahead of himself, once again stirring the cold macaroni.

"Dean said there was someone else out there."

"I know – I found him."

"You what?" Jenni was caught by surprise with this statement.

"I went out to check – just in case Dean didn't remember if there was someone else or not. I found the body – an older guy, practically gutted, his stomach was torn open and his intestines were all over the place. Bugs are nesting in there, maggots are everywhere."

Jenni grimaced at the image. "Sam, you had no idea."

"We should've checked – he died out there when we could've gotten him help."

"Sam," Jenni suddenly understood the depression. "Harry died before we even went to look for Dean."

Sam lifted an eyebrow at her, his eyes widening a little in surprise. "How do you know?"

"Dean remembered him, apparently he got there just before Harry died – there wasn't anything he could do for him. I think the only reason he really remembers is because Harry begged him to tell his wife that he was sorry that he went out after she warned him not to."

"We'll have to do something about the body – I could take care of it."

"No, Sam, let's call the authorities – Dolly has a right to put her husband to rest."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, she does."

"So," Jenni added changing the subject and picking up the bowl of macaroni that Sam clearly wasn't going to eat. "Next time I don't think I'll make something so exquisite."

Sam chuckled along with her and broke out of his trance so he could help her clean up their lunch. "I'm sorry, Jenni, I'm sure it was good."

"Don't worry about it, Sam, I understand. We have plenty of leftovers so we can always reheat later." Jenni stuck the casserole dish into the fridge next to the milk jug and joined Sam at the sink, filling one side with hot soapy water as she didn't have a dishwasher.

Sam grabbed a couple hand towels and placed them on the counter top as well as a larger rag that he would use to dry the dishes with.

They washed in silence, Jenni scrubbing and rinsing and Sam drying and setting aside on the towels. Jenni could feel something else was bothering him, but didn't know if Sam really wanted to talk about it or not – if he did she was sure he'd discuss it on his own terms.

"Jenni, you're not going to have Dean tell Dolly about Harry's last words are you?"

"No, I'm not. I didn't think it would be a good idea – she might think he had a hand in Harry's death. The last thing we need right now is an investigation."

Sam nodded and placed the clean cheese grater onto one of the towels.

"Sam, is something wrong?" Jenni asked fumbling around the bottom of the sink and pulling out the stopper.

Sam shook his head as he finished drying the last bowl and set it aside. "If Dean and I had made sure that we had finished her the first time we went up against this thing then Harry would still be alive."

"Sam, you couldn't have known." Jenni was sympathetic.

Sam would not be comforted. "We should've, Dad taught us better than that. Finish off the bad guy before tending to the wounded – one of his top rules. That damn leg – if I hadn't cut it off – we would have had the whole thing and she would have been taken care of. But I cut off that leg – that has to be it, that's why she's back."

"Sam, you aren't making a lot of sense."

"Never mind." Sam tossed the rag onto the faucet and hurried out of the kitchen without another word.

Jenni watched him, but not bothering to stop him. Sam clearly had a lot on his mind and needed to be alone. She sighed and picked up the cordless hanging on the wall – pressing the button for the operator. "I'd like to be connected with the police please."

***

Sam poked his head into the bedroom, hoping that Dean would be asleep – or on the verge of it. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Dean's sour attitude at the moment.

Dean was on his back, blankets pulled up over his shoulders, his head turned to the side, his eyes closed, and his breathing deep.

Sam let out a quiet breath and entered the room, closing the door as softly as he could behind him. He walked quietly around his brother's bed and settled down on his own, lying flat with his hands under his head, staring at the ceiling.

"Sam?"

Clearly Dean wasn't as asleep as he appeared. Sam turned his head slowly towards his brother's bed, narrowing his eyes slowly. The blue tinge his eyes had taken made everything further than a few feet away from him hard to focus on. "I'm right here, Dean."

Dean's head rolled sluggishly so it was facing Sam's bed. "Did you find it?"

"Find what?"

"The body?"

Sam sighed and turned onto his side, cupping his left hand under his head and propping himself up on his elbow. "How'd you know I'd go look for it?"

"That's what I would've done. There was a lot of blood out there – I remember that's why I tried to get out of there. All the blood."

"He was really torn apart, Dean."

"I know he was – I couldn't do anything for him, got there too late." Dean's voice was soft, almost whispered.

"We can't save everyone, Dean."

"Doesn't make it any easier, Sammy."

"I know." Sam sighed and squeezed his eyes shut briefly.

"Did you burn it?"

Sam shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip. "No, Jenni wants to call the authorities. I guess she thought it'd be best if Harry's family found out from them rather than us."

"I think she's got a point there, Sam." Dean's breathing became a little heavier as the pain medications started to drag him under.

"Do you think they'll do a full investigation on this?"

Dean shrugged lazily. "They could – but I doubt it. They'll probably sum it up to an animal attack."

"We should've been more careful, Dean. Made sure we finished the job."

"Neither of us were in any shape to go back out there, Sam."

"We need to finish her, Dean. You might have wounded her, but she'll be back."

"I know, Sammy."

"I could scout around – see where she…"

"No." Dean's eyes were suddenly open and fierce, all trace of weariness gone. "You're not going out there alone."

"You aren't in any condition to go out there, Dean."

"Neither are you, Sam."

"This thing needs to be stopped, Dean. We have to finish this."

"And we will."

"No I mean now!" Sam sat up on the bed, swinging his legs over the edge and glaring at his brother.

Dean met his gaze head on, not backing down. "How do you propose we do that, Sam, huh? Look at us – neither of us are fit to go out on a hunt."

"I'm fine."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Tell me something, how far away can you see? How clear does everything look to you?"

Sam frowned. "That's not important."

"It isn't? What happens when the bitch comes at you from up above Sam and you can't see her coming until she's too close to get away? Do you think I'm going to let you go out there and get torn apart by this thing?"

"Dean, you can't go out there – just look at yourself."

"Yeah, look at me! I mean seriously, Sam, do you think I want to go out there and find that this bitch did the same to you? Or worse what she did to Harry? Do you honestly think I could live with myself after that? It's still my job to look after you."

Sam clamped his teeth together and pursed his lips. "And who is supposed to look after you, Dean?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't stop will you? You just keep going until you're so worn down that you have nothing left to give. When is enough going to be enough?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam, kinda confined to the bed here."

"If you weren't you'd be going out there half cocked – trying to get this bitch though, wouldn't you?"

Dean didn't answer but dropped his eyes from Sam and that was enough answer for the youngest Winchester.

"Damn it, Dean. Why won't you let me help you on this – you almost got yourself killed last time."

"That's different."

"How? How is it different, Dean? What are you trying to prove?"

"Nothin'"

"Yeah, whatever." Sam shook his head and rolled back onto his back, once again staring at the ceiling.

"Have you tried Bobby? See if there are other hunters in the area?" Dean asked.

Sam closed his eyes and took in several deep breaths. "No."

"Maybe we should see if someone else can cover this – we aren't ready for this, Sam. If she comes back before we're ready – a lot more people are going to die. It's best to try and get someone else to cover so we can get back on our feet."

"I guess so."

"Sam, I know you want this thing – you want it bad. Trust me I understand completely – I want nothing more than that bitch's head on a platter myself, but we aren't going to be the ones to finish it. Not after everything, we need help."

"It just feels like giving up."

"We aren't giving up, Sam, but sometimes it's best to know your limitations – this hunt is one of them. It's best to call in the reserves."

"I'll call Bobby." Sam paused halfway through rising from the bed, his forehead suddenly crinkling.

"My phone is in my bag. We'll get you a new one when we head out of town."

Sam had to search for a moment, trying to find his brother's phone in the overly stuffed duffel.

Jenni rapped the door softly and pushed it open a bit. "Thought I'd catch up on my laundry – do you guys need any done?"

Sam shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Jenni – I'll do it later."

"If you're sure."

"Yeah, it's fine." Sam succeeded in pulling out the phone and began scrolling through Dean's contacts.

Dean watched him through half closed eyes as Sam pressed the send button and held the phone to his ear.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam began to pace between the two beds.

"That's kinda the reason I'm calling – we're going to need help. You know of any hunters in the area?" He paused his forehead crinkling. "It's moved down near Millwood Lake. We tried to finish her off – but things got –" Sam hesitated looking at Dean who was on the verge of sleep. "Complicated." Sam finally finished.

Dean listened to Sam's end of the conversation, knowing that Bobby wouldn't buy Sam's explanation.

He didn't seem to be asking questions either though. Dean assumed that Bobby told Sam that he'd call around because Sam thanked him and snapped the phone closed.

"He'll see who's available." Sam said tossing the phone onto Dean's duffel and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dean groaned as the bed shifted under Sam's weight, making his injured leg slip slightly on the smooth sheets.

"You've had your pain meds?"

"Yes, Samantha."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Don't you think you could come up with something a little more original, Dean?"

"Why go for something new when the classics still work?"

Sam shook his head but laughed anyway. "Get some sleep, Dean, I have a feeling we're going to need the rest."

"Is there any of that macaroni left?"

Sam nodded and pulled his glasses off his nose, rubbing gently at his eyes. "There's a whole casserole dish filled with it."

"Good, it was pretty good."

Sam gave his brother a small smirk and rose from the bed, folding his glasses in one palm. "I'll be in the living room if you need me. Just yell – don't do something stupid."

"You know me, Sam, I'd never do something like that."

"Right." Sam grumbled pulling open the door and stepping into the hall. He sent one last glance at his brother, smiling as he saw Dean sinking further under the blankets and adjusting himself into a more comfortable position. Sam closed the door and headed down the hall, twirling his glasses around between his fingers.

Jenni was sitting on the couch, staring at the fire that was sparking in the fireplace. Sam sank down onto the cushion next to her, sighing lightly. "You ok?"

Jenni shook her head, but continued to stare into the fireplace. "It just seems so surreal."

Sam nodded and looked to the fire. The blue colored flames jumped about the logs, sparking and popping sending small blue sparks up into the air where they sizzled out and disappeared. It looked beyond strange, and Sam found himself captivated by it.

"I just can't believe Harry's really gone – he's always been a constant thing up here. Poor Dolly – this is going to kill her."

"She'll need a good friend."

"I'll be there for her, if she wants me. I called with an anonymous tip – but I'm sure that the police will come around asking if we've seen anything.

Sam nodded. "Especially with it being so close to the cabin."

"Why Harry though? Why'd this thing go after him?"

Sam shrugged. "An easy target, probably. A fisherman alone on his boat in the middle of the night – no witnesses, it's dark, he's older – makes for pretty easy pickings."

Jenni sniffed and rubbed at her eyes to stop her mascara from running. "Do you think you and Dean will be ok if I run down to Dolly's for a while?"

"Of course – take all the time you need."

Jenni nodded and disappeared down the hall to grab her jacket. She came back, pulling the impala's keys from her pocket. "I'm going to close the blinds and take the impala – that way no one will think you guys are here. It's best if we don't draw too much attention to ourselves. If the policeman does ask questions I can answer them while I'm with Dolly – hopefully they won't stop by here. Don't answer the door though – just in case. I'll lock up on my way out."

Sam nodded and turned back to looking at the blue flames.

"Dean asleep?"

"He was close to it – if he bitches about the impala again I'll just say you ran out to get more groceries – it will keep him from moaning too much."

Jenni laughed. "I'll pick up some frozen pizzas or something on the way home. We'll just do an easy dinner tonight."

"Don't worry about dinner – we have leftovers and there's stuff for sandwiches too."

"Don't be silly, Sam. If Dean finds out I took the impala and I don't come back with something for him – we both know I'll never hear the end of it."

Sam laughed. "The way he fusses over that car…"

"It is a nice car, Sam, he told me he rebuilt it himself. He's done a nice job with it – anyone would want to be careful after something like that."

"I guess so – that car is the only thing he'd focus on after the accident – for a long time. He wouldn't stop working on it unless he had to. When it got too dark to see he'd come in, then he'd get cleaned up and go to bed. He'd be out there with the car just after sunrise every morning." Sam's eyes glassed over slightly as his memories drowned him.

"You want something from the store – something special I can get either of you?"

"Just get whatever you want, Jenni. Dean will eat anything."

"I'll be back in a few hours." Jenni disappeared down the hall. Sam heard her moving about the front room, he assumed closing the blinds, then the front door opened, closed, and locked behind her.