Hello my friends! I am back with another chapter! Sorry it took so long, I don't know why, but I couldn't get the chapter just right. I spent forever editing it and changing it, and i'm just like, lets get it out there and then move on LOL! Anyway this story has reached over 1,000 views! AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH! I did not expect that many people to read this story :) I love you guys!

Coco, Muffinroo, Dargur and princess fae, thank you so much for leaving me a review your kind words really make my day! :) Also you lot guessed right with the cliffhanger! (I'm kind of glad it means you could follow along easily! lol)

Anywho enough blabbering,

Chapter Five

Dean walked towards Sam, gun still pointing at him. He had shut down, confusion, fear, shock all swirling inside of him, making it hard to think. Dean was hunting him, actually hunting him. He flashed back to him kneeling on the floor, Dean above him holding Death's scythe poised for the killing blow. But even then Sam could see some hint of life in his eyes. A sign his Dean was still in there. But right now all that filled them was determination and what looked like disgust. Why is Dean doing this now? after all these years? Had he finally realized that whenever Sam was around things went horribly wrong? He hadn't meant to set the darkness free, but at the time if it meant saving Dean then that's all he cared about. As for his past addiction to demon blood, he had been clean for so long, he thought Dean had forgiven him for that.

Sam's breathing picked up, he felt sick. He was currently facing his biggest goddam fear, the very thing he had nightmares about, (more recently after demon Dean) He tried so hard to ignore the rippling waves of anxiety and fear that rushed through his veins. The logical and rational part of him telling him that this couldn't be Dean. Not so long ago Sam was being held by him, having one of the biggest chick flick moments of the year, Dean telling him everything is ok. Now Dean was holding a gun to him? It didn't make sense. But he couldn't help that his lungs started constrict, his breaths becoming short and fast.

When Dean reached Sam, the bud of the gun hit him on the head knocking him out. His last thought before the darkness consumed him was,

This can't be Dean…

SPN SPN SPN SPN

Dean woke with a groan, the page of his book peeling off his skin, as he raised his head. He grimaced in partial disgust as he saw the page was a little wet. Clearing the sleep from his eyes, he tried to navigate through the haze of dream land to figure out what was going on. He felt his phone buzz on the table beside him, picking it up he saw a news alert for something in California. Ignoring it, he went to put the phone down, when his eyes caught the time and date. It was 12:05am the next day. His big brother mode kicked in, freeing him of the sleepy daze. crap, It had been 24 hours. Hell it had been over 24 hours. Standing up he made his way to Sam's room.

He had fallen asleep around 4:15pm yesterday, he had slept for 7 hours! He swallowed the fear creeping up on him, and calmly made his way to Sam's room. He tried to tell himself that Sam was fine, he was still asleep, and Sam had made the promise of telling him if anything felt off.

Yeah but since when does Sam ever admit about being sick…..

At that thought he picked up his pace to Sam's room, until he was going at a full run. He paused briefly at his door, taking a deep breath he prepared himself for what might await.

Dean expected Sam to be going insane, seeing Lucifer standing over his little brother, or maybe see several clowns dancing around him. What he was not expecting was to see the room empty, bed made neatly and no Sam.

"Sammy?" He called out hesitantly. Getting nothing in return, his fear started to get harder to ignore. Moving out the room he started to shout for Sam through the bunker.

All thoughts of calm and happy Dean were gone and replaced by frantic, freaking out big brother Dean.

He checked the kitchen, Man Den, gym, garage everywhere. Yelling out false threats, and growing more and more agitated with every passing room without Sam. After a while he finally came to the realization that Sam was no longer in the bunker. Pulling out his phone he called Sam. After a few seconds he heard a distant phone ring, running he found himself back at Sam's room, to only see his phone buzzing on the table.

Fuck

Sam was gone, with no way of contacting anyone, could be going insane, dying, bleeding out the in the middle of fucking nowhere, and what was Dean doing? Napping! Some brother he was. How could he fall asleep? The guilt found its home in Dean. What an idiot he had been, he should have set an alarm if he was going to take a nap. He leaned against the wall for support as he fought his own panic attack.

Why do these things always happen to us?

He breathed deeply bringing his heart down to a normal pace, drowning in guilt and freaking out won't help Sam. Instead he called the one person who had any hope of finding him.

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

7 hours ago:

Sam came too tied to a tree, the one in the middle of the clearing to be specific. He pulled against the ropes but they were tied tightly, digging into his skin.

"'Bout time you woke up" Sam followed the gruff voice to the source. But he already knew who it was.

"Dean?"

"The one and only!" Dean said through forced happiness. Sam felt himself go down the panic attack route again. Trying to gain some control he bit the side of his cheek hard enough to draw blood, hoping the pain would ground him.

"This isn't funny Dean, let me go" he said trying to hide the fear. Dean noticed it, and smiled, he stood up and walked over to Sam, crouching down so they were eye level, and Sam couldn't help but squirm under the intense gaze.

"I'm not laughing" his cheerieness was replaced with a growl of hatred, his eyes gleaming and Sam started to panic. But this was different. This didn't feel like his earlier panic attack, this was fear that started deep within him, traveling to every inch of his body, leaving him feeling completely and utterly petrified.

Hang on, this is different….

Sam looked right into Dean's eyes with more confidence and smiled a little,

"Your not Dean," Dean just looked confused, Sam continued,

"This is the ghost sickness, you're not Dean. My Dean wouldn't do this". Dean ducked his head and chuckled lightly. Standing back up he went over to his duffle bag and pulled out his gun.

"You sure about that kiddo?" He walked back over to him and aimed it at Sam's head. He looked up at Dean and conjured up some of the best memories of him and Dean. He thought about the time when he was 14 and Dean was 18, they snuck out during the night so they could watch a movie they had been begging their dad to let them see. He thought about the time when they would play pranks on each other, or the time when they would just sit with each other on a clear and starry night, no words needed just the comfort and love that they were together. And when Sam would finally cave and sing along to Dean's god awful music, Dean smiling and genuine smile. As he thought about all these things, Dean started to waver in and out of focus. He scowled. Sam smiled.

"I may only be a nightmare, but by the time I am done with you, you'll be the one pulling the trigger".

Now

Sam looked up at the sky, It was now pitch black. He must have passed out again, it was sunset when not-Dean put a gun to him. He also happened to be shirtless. His eyelids hung heavy as blood flowed freely from his head, down his neck and matting his hair. There were several cuts on his neck and arms, but on his bare chest where the words FREAK, carved into him. 7 hours of him being cut and beaten by his brother.

Not-brother it's not Dean….

The happy memories of Dean were getting harder and harder to use. The shame and fear blocking any thought of happiness, Not-Dean planting every fear he had into his brain, then letting the ghost sickness do its work. The pure terror that was pulsing through him was nothing he had ever felt before. He couldn't control the way his heart was beating so hard it hurt. The air was stale and stuffy and he couldn't bring in a full breath making his lungs tight and restricting. One moment he would be deep in horror land, re-living the cage, the next be brought back to the present by not-Dean's threats to kill him, to carry out his fathers orders. The last thing their old man ever said. Either save him or kill him. Not-Dean saying he should have done it years ago, be the good soldier, the soldier Sam could never be. Sam would try to do something but was paralyzed with fear, he wanted Dean, his Dean not this fear induced one. He wanted to be close enough to him to breathe in the familiar smell of gun oil and leather knowing he was safe and loved.

He had no clue how long he had been here, no way to contact the real Dean, who he assumed was still at the bunker. He was trying so hard to remain calm, but no matter what he did he felt beyond scared. He was drowning in every fear he has, being beaten to shame by his "brother"

He heard a twig snap, and he watched in horror as Not-Dean amerged. Smiling, he walked over clenching his hand.

"Dean's not coming," he hissed. Sam looked at him confused before it morphed into a sad look. Not-Dean came from his fears, it made sense he would know what Sam was thinking. But Sam knew he wouldn't see the real Dean again. He had been praying for him to creep out of the trees, quote some movie that he loves that he forced Sam to watch until he also loved it. Dean would then free Sam, use some miracle cure, and then they would go back to the bunker, watch said quoted movie, listen to Dean brag about saving his ass, and Sam would smile and laugh agreeing with Dean. Maybe in the morning go out to get the pastries Dean loves so much, have a moment of normal and be content with each other's presence, neither one dying or in danger. But that wouldn't happen because Dean wasn't coming.

Not-Dean raised his fist, and landed a blow on Sam's jaw. The impact had him throwing his head back on the tree, the motion was repeated again and again, until Sam felt something crack, he let out a sob and felt the tears stain his face.

"S-stop Dean please," he pleaded. He tried to raise a hand and push not-Dean off, but his hand wouldn't move.

Not-Dean just snarled and said, "Typical Sam, crying like a bitch when things go wrong, can't handle his own mistakes" He changed his target on Sam and aimed for his stomach, Sam could only take it, his body desperate to fight back, but somewhere inside of him he knew he deserved every bit of it. He bit back the scream threatening to tear from his throat as he felt Not-Dean pound over and over again into his stomach.

"Always expecting me to drop everything and help you, well you know what Sam, I am sick and tired of cleaning up you messes, you sided with Ruby and freed Lucifer, and now you freed the fucking darkness. You seem to have a thing for releasing dark beings that can destroy the world." He paused his attack and brought himself close to Sam's ear, who was inches away from passing out again. The last thing he heard before passing out where the cruel words,

"You never stopped being a monster"

SPN SPN SPN SPN SPN

Castiel was just driving. He had no real goal in mind, having his grace back made life easier, but without wings life on the road he still found tedious. Not only that but gas cost a little too much for the angels' liking. He was brought out of his train of thought when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Pulling it out he saw the ID number was Dean's. Smiling he answered with,

"Hello Dean,"

"Hey Cas" Cas frowned, that wasn't a happy "hey cas"

"Dean, what's wrong?" His concern coming through his gruff voice.

"Uhh where do I start….. Sam and I were on a case that involved the ghost sickness, if you got touched then you have 24 hours till signs show and the 48 hours until you die. The ghost touched Sam and it's been 24 hours and now Sammy is missing and I don't know where he is. He left the bunker without his phone and he could be dying out there all alone.." Dean's voice got more and more frantic as he spoke, but he trailed off at the end with what Cas could only assume was some bit back sob.

"I need your help Cas." He paused, "please". Castiel knew Dean rather well, there were still many things that were a mystery to him, but one thing he did know was that Dean hardly ever begged, rarely let down his shield of being in control of his emotions. So for him to ask for help, things must be bad. Very bad.

"I'm on my way Dean." He heard a sigh of relief from the other end,

"Thanks Cas" Turning around he started to head towards the bunker as fast as he could.

Within the speed limit.

SPN SPN SPN SPN

"I'm on my way Dean" Dean sighed happy that the angel could come.

"Thanks Cas" ending the call he headed out of Sam's room and headed back to the library. Since it had been 24 hours, the countdown for 48 hours had begun. And according to Dean's calculations Sam has 41 hours left before he would die. Which left 41 hours for Dean to one, find a cure (which he still had absolutely nothing on) and two, find Sam. The same Sam that had gone through devastating and soul crushing events, and could be re-living every single one of them with no one to help him. He could be curled up in a ditch on a deserted road dying…

Oh god, Dean felt his earlier suppressed panic attack creep back up on with vengeance. Reaching the library he grabbed the bottle of scotch poured himself a healthy amount and drank it in one gulp. He allowed the alcohol to numb the panic attack, guilt and whatever other emotion he was feeling, and restore his semi balanced thought process. He couldn't allow himself to get distracted from helping Sam. He couldn't do anything about finding him until Cas got here, but he could do research. He went and picked out a book, and looked at Sam's spot. He felt a deep ache inside of him. How did such a simple case go so wrong? Sam should be sat there looking for any signs of Amara, practically fast asleep, the guilt of setting her free fueling him to try harder. While Dean told him to go to bed and let him take over. Maybe the next day cook pancakes or something to continue to try and make up for nearly killing him and all the horrible things he did when he had the mark. Then they would sit at the kitchen table and just be happy. Have some normal for once in their crazy life. No one dying, no one in some life threatening position. Instead Sam was out there all alone.

Pushing down his happy dream, he sat down, opened the book and started to reading

Wooohooo! another chapter done! Will Dean save Sam in time? Whooo knnnooowwwsss, lol just kidding I know! Anway I hope you enjoyed this chapter, more to come very soon! :) I hope you don't mind Castiel being brought into it, I mean who couldn't love the angel. Im hoping he will be a good middleman. Thank you to everyone who has read this far you guys are the best! Please leave a review letting me know what you think!

-OnceUponaKitten