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!!

Despite his brother's words, Sam did stay awake until he heard Dean slip quietly into the room and sit on his own bed. He cracked his eyes open enough to see Dean sitting up against the headboard, no doubt avoiding sleep.

Knowing he was at least home safe, Sam drifted off.

The next morning, Sam woke to find his brother in the exact same position. "Hey. Did you sleep at all?"

"Yeah, coupla hours. You slept like a log, dude."

"Come on, Dean. I know you didn't sleep. Don't lie to me. I was awake when you came back last night and you haven't moved an inch."

"So why did you ask if you already knew the answer?"

"I was hoping you might tell me the truth for once."

"Nice, Sam. Great way to start the day. I've got work to do."

"Dean, at least eat breakfast before you head out to the garage…"

"Not hungry. You can have my share. Bobby's been slavin' away in the kitchen for a while now."

With that, Dean got up and headed towards the front door. The down side was he had to pass the kitchen.

"Breakfast is ready, Dean. Pull up a chair."

"Smells great, Bobby, but I'm not hungry, man. Maybe later."

"Son…"

"Later, Bobby."

Dean waltzed out of the house and into the garage, cranking up the radio and setting to work. Yet again, he was out all day and most of the night. Bobby had something to say about that.

Even over the radio, Dean could hear Bobby's boots approaching while he was underneath the truck changing the oil. He began preparing an excuse for not going back in for food all day when he felt a hand wrap around his ankle and pull him out from under the car.

"This can't continue, Dean. Yer not sleepin', yer not eatin', and yer not livin'. I'm worried, Sam's worried, and yer fallin' apart. You've had enough for one day. Let's head in."

"You go ahead, man. I'll be in soon, promise."

"Right, like you came back for food earlier? I'm not fallin' for that again. Up you get."

Bobby held out his hand and hauled Dean to his feet.

"You better get some sleep tonight, or I'm gonna sedate yer ass."

"I'm sure I'll sleep like a baby. You cured me, Bobby."

"Wise ass."

Sam was already asleep, still recuperating from the lack of rest while caring for his brother lately. Once again, Dean spent a few hours of the night forcing himself to stay awake, but eventually his exhaustion won out.

Dean's dreams were getting more vivid every night.

"Pull the damn trigger, Dean! Kill me now before I go dark side and start hurting people!"

"No! I can't do it, Sammy…"

"You should have pulled the trigger when you had the chance. Sammy is still going to turn evil one day, but you won't be there to stop him."

The shifter held up a sharp blade. Dean recognized it at once as the one he carried in his boot and kept under his pillow at night for safety purposes.

"This is a nice knife. Bet it cuts through flesh and bone like butter. Shall we find out? Where oh where should we start, Dean? Can't have you bleeding out too quickly now, can we?"

Dean woke with a gasp, pulling his knife from under his pillow and preparing to strike out. His eyes darted around the room finding no one else in sight but his brother who was sleeping soundly in the next bed. He quietly checked on him, then slid from the room and out into the cold night air, bringing his knife with him for comfort.

He strolled up and down the street until the cold air got to him and he retreated to the Impala. He crawled into the backseat and curled into a ball, drifting to sleep. Finally, he managed a dreamless sleep.

When Sam woke up the next morning, he was unnerved to find his brother's bed empty. His worry increased as he checked the bathroom and the kitchen and found them both empty. As Bobby walked out of his room, Sam grilled him for answers.

"Have you seen Dean this morning? Did you hear him leave? Is he okay?"

"He's not in yer room? I haven't heard a peep from him since he went to bed last night."

"Maybe he went for another walk."

"He been doin' that often?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'll check outside."

Sam hurried out the door and glanced up and down the street, hoping to see his brother strolling back home but the street was empty. His stomach sank, but he was heartened when he realized the Impala was still in the yard. At least he didn't take off. He wouldn't go far without his baby.

He walked up to the car and ran his hand affectionately over the trunk. As he neared the driver's window, he noticed a figure in the back. Thank god…

As he took in his brother's still form, he felt the tension in his shoulders relax. Dean was finally getting some sleep. Apparently, he only felt safe in his baby. But Sam was going to fix that soon. Dean couldn't keep living in the car to avoid his past. He needed to deal with it and move on.

Sam let his brother sleep a few more hours before deciding Dean needed food. After asking Bobby to put some sandwiches together, he went back outside to rouse Dean. His brother slept peacefully until Sam cracked the back door open and sat beside him. Then he groaned and his eyes flickered open.

"Sammy?" he grumbled out, stretching his back.

"Hey, Dean. How're you feelin'?"

"Peachy." His neck gave an audible crack as he rolled it on his shoulders.

"Why didn't you come back inside last night?"

"Cause I didn't want to wake you."

"Dean, you know I wouldn't be pissed at that. I'd be more upset knowin' you caught pneumonia because you slept in your car all night."

"Wasn't that cold."

"Bullshit it wasn't. I had three blankets on last night. It's still cold now that the sun's up."

"You're just a wuss. It's kinda nice out."

"Then why are you shivering?" Sam knew he had won when Dean just glared back at him, unable to retort. "That's what I thought. Come on. Bobby's makin' lunch."

"Not hungry, Sam."

"Dean, you haven't touched food in days. You've gotta snap outta this! I know you went through hell when I was at school, and I'm sorry for that, but you can't keep it bottled up! It's going to kill you!"

"Chill out, Drama Queen! I'll eat the damn sandwich, alright?"

"That's so not my point, Dean! You can't keep goin' on like this. You don't eat, you barely sleep, you've got bags under your eyes and you look like hell, dude. Somethin's gotta give."

"Yeah, you! You need to give it up! I'm workin' through this shit, okay? I don't need you houndin' me to get there faster!" With that, Dean forced himself out of his baby and stormed back inside to get away from Sam.

Sam wasn't going to let him get away that easily though. He jogged to catch up to his brother and grabbed him by the arm, spinning him around so they were face to face.

"What did the shifter do to you, Dean? What happened back then?"

"You've heard too much already, Sam. Get your hand offa me before I break it."

"Just tell me for once in your life! Stop tryin' to protect me from the truth!"

"You want the fuckin' truth, Sammy?! I let the damn thing win, okay?! Everything it said to me, I proved right. I gave up, and I broke down. I'm every bit as weak as it said I was and I failed you and dad. There! You happy now?! Damn it!" Breaking Sam's hold on his arm, Dean abruptly changed direction and headed back to the Impala. He started her up and tore out of the driveway, heading to the closest bar he could find.

"Oh, god…" Sam whispered to himself.

Sam entered Bobby's house alone, not very anxious to explain to Bobby what he had just forced his brother to do.

"Sam? That you? Where's Dean? Lunch is ready, and I'm not takin' no for an answer this time."

"Bobby, he took off."

"What? Where?"

"I dunno. Probably the closest bar he can find, knowing Dean."

"What happened? He alright?"

"Not even close. He thinks he failed us, Bobby. He was tortured, and somehow, he thinks he's weak for cracking."

"Is yer brother on drugs or somethin', Sam? Cause that's the dumbest shit I've ever heard. Failed fer givin' in to the pain… What an eedjit. Let's go pick 'im up."

"Maybe we should give him some time to cool down…"

"Sam, he hasn't eaten in a few days now. You really want 'im gettin' drunk off his gourd?"

"You're right. Let's get him."

"We gotta find 'im first. Hope we aren't too late…"

TBC

You know what to do!