Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Warning: NOT A HAPPY STORY.

A/N: The lines mean either time change or POV change.

Dean's POV

Bobby arrived at the apartment a day and a half later. Dean embraced him as he walked in with a duffel he knew had more weapons than anything else. After hardly a moment of exchanging polite news, they sat down in the kitchen and got to business.

"Ah, so what do you got for me?" Bobby asked, settling down in his seat. He took a swig of his flask and turned so he was facing Dean completely.

"Well," Dean said grabbing a glass off the counter next to him, "First things first." He splashed Bobby in the face with the holy water that was in the glass.

There was no sizzling or sounds of agony. Just Bobby grumbling at how unnecessary that was. Dean let out a short laugh and ran a hand through his hair.

"Sorry, Bobby. Can never be too careful, eh?" He handed the older man a towel.

"Yeah, just next time don't go for the face. If you can, go for my arm or hand," Bobby said, his face set in a scowl.

"Will do," Dean replied with a wink. "Now let me show you what I found." Dean sat down and pulled a newspaper clipping from a folder that he had dedicated to finding Sam. The article title read, HOUSE FIRE CLAIMS ONE VICTIM. "The victim was a woman named Jessica Winchester." Bobby looked up at Dean. "Yeah, Sam told me he married her at DisneyLand a few years ago. Apparently he forgot to mail the invitations," he sneered. "Either way, she's dead now. Died in the fire, wait for it, November second. Same day as our mom. And that was the day my dear brother got the burns as well. The idiot tried to save her somehow by staying. By the time EMTs arrived the fire had already left her nothing more than ashes..." Dean's voice trailed off as his mind flashed to what had happened the day his mother died.

"What was the source of the fire?" Bobby asked, yanking Dean back to the present. "Does it say?"

"Yeah," Dean said, "They think it was an electrical shortage, just like with my mom. Coming from the ceiling, which is where the fire started. And, according to Sam's psychiatrist, Jess was on the ceiling when it started as well. He was put in an institution for a week following that revelation."

"When did this happen?"

"Two weeks before he called me."

Bobby nodded and commented, "So we can safely assume whatever killed his wife killed your mother too."

Dean gave an affirmative nod. "The only problem is that my dad has more information on that monster than anyone else alive. Based on my own research, I think it was some sort of demon."

"That's quite a beast to brawl with, boy. Are you sure that it was a demon?"

"Of course not!" Dean said, throwing his hands up in defeat, "What do you want to do? Call my dad for help?"

Bobby was silent for a moment. With a shrewd look at Dean he asked, "You said you dad knows more than anyone else alive?"

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Oh, no, Bobby. I know where you're going with this. We are not about to get some phony psychic involved. Everyone knows their words are not worth a dime."

"You gotta better idea?" Bobby demanded. Dean said nothing. "Good, I'll call Missouri."

Bobby got off the phone ten minutes later and said, "She's about eight hours away. The soonest flight she could catch is in four hours."

Dean nodded and said, "There's something else you should see, Bobby."

The older man sat back down at the table where Dean was holding another piece of paper. As he laid it in front of him, Dean felt a shiver go down his spine. It was a drawing of big, mean yellow eyes. The stared straight out of the paper and seemed to burn a hole in everything that met its gaze. He couldn't tear his eyes away until Bobby said, "That's the thing your dad's after, ain't it?"

Dean repressed another shudder and said, "Yeah. The only thing I've ever managed to get out of him whenever I bug him about it is that it's mean and has yellow eyes. Also, when I first got here, I searched his room. There was sulfur all over one of the nightstands, but the room was fine. It didn't look like there was much of a fight, but I know Sam would have fought." He hoped Sam fought.

Bobby scratched his chin and shook his head. "I don't like this. It all seems too big to be real. And what are you trying to say about your brother? That he wanted demons to take him?"

"I don't know, Bobby, I'm just telling you what I saw."

The two men slept while they waited for the psychic to show up. Dean was on the couch and Bobby slept in a sleeping bag on the floor. Neither felt like taking the bed. Dean found sleep evading him for most of the night. The little sleep he got consisted of nightmares about yellow eyes. Piercing, hateful yellow eyes doing unspeakable things to him.

At the first light of dawn, they were both jolted awake by a knock at the door. Dean beat Bobby to the door. He opened the door and was met with a surprise. A short black woman was standing there with a sharp look on her face. Dean was reminded of the nurse at the hospital. "Hello, there, uh…"

"Missouri, didn't Bobby tell you my name?" she said. Her voice wasn't quite as harsh as the nurse's but it still commanded respect.

"Oh, yes. Um, come in." Dean stepped aside and took her to the kitchen where Bobby was brewing some coffee. He was thrown off by her bold personality but tried not to let it show.

"Missouri! How are you? How do you want your coffee?" Bobby asked.

The woman smiled kindly and gave him a hug. "I'm fine Bobby, and I'll take it with a dash of sugar." She turned to Dean. "Honey, don't get me confused with that black woman at the hospital, I promise I'm not as cold."

Dean's eyebrows shot up and he glanced at Bobby who just chuckled. He hadn't mentioned to anyone that the nurse at the hospital was African American. "H-how did you know?"

"Well, they don't call me a psychic for nothing, now do they?" she asked. She talked with Bobby about little things while he finished making their coffee.

When everyone was seated at the table with a cup, Dean pulled out his file on Sam. He was about to open it when Missouri's hand slammed down on the file.

"No, don't tell me anything yet. Let me get a feeling from this place first." She closed her eyes and said nothing for fifteen minutes. Dean was about to ask a question when she shushed him. He then sat back and waited for her to speak. "So from what I can hear, it sounds like your brother Sam was injured in a fire that killed his wife. This isn't where it happened though. He moved here less than a month before he went off with you. He came back a week and a half later."

Her voice got softer like she was talking to herself. "The night he got back… he disappeared? Oh!" she gasped, putting her face in her hands.

Dean leaned forward and said, "What is it?" He hoped she would explain the sulfur. Bobby was on the edge of his seat as well while their coffees sat forgotten, getting cold.

After what felt to Dean like forever, Missouri lifted her head, tears streaming down her face. "It's the same thing that killed your momma," she said. "Whatever took her has Sam."

Deafening silence filled the air around them, like the echo after a gunshot. He felt as though he had been shot with a truth, and the air in his lungs had been forced out by the blast. The same thing…. What did that mean?

Dean stood up and walked out. He grabbed his jacket off the couch and went outside, slamming the door behind him. He didn't know why that information made him so... he didn't know what. But he knew he needed some space before he did something he would regret. He paced on the porch outside the door of Sam's apartment to try and let off some steam. Was he taken because he was weak? Was it because of Dean's rejection? Did he even try to defend himself? Was he caught off guard? Why was he taken? Why now? WHY?

Dean let out a roar and punched the side of the brick building. He cursed and cradled his fist to his chest. He probably broke something. He swallowed back the tears that threatened to fall. Which pain was causing them? The pain from his hand or of losing Sammy? He leaned his shoulder against the building and took several deep breaths. No, he reminded himself, not Sammy. There is no more Sammy, just Sam. He pushed away the notion that he was sad about Sam. This is just another hunt. Sam's life means no more than any other life. He repeated this mantra in his head for several minutes. He allowed the fight to drain out of him until he almost believed himself. Then he wrapped his hand in his jacket and went back inside.

Bobby and Missouri were still sitting at the table, talking quietly to each other. As soon as Dean walked in they were silent. Bobby took one look at Dean's covered hand and rolled his eyes. "That's just what we needed, boy. For you to be hurt right before we track down your brother."

Dean held back a growl and settled for glaring at him instead. "I'm fine. I'll still be able to hunt. I just gotta get it set."

Bobby muttered, "Idjit" then went to get the first aid kit.

Dean sat back down in his chair and called to Bobby, "While you play Nurse Bobby, Missouri can catch me up." Bobby yelled something unintelligible back. Dean cracked a grin and turned to Missouri. "So whatever killed my mom took Sam. Were you able to figure out what it was?"

Missouri's face twisted in pity. "Yes. It was a demon but-"

"I knew it!" Dean exclaimed, slamming his good fist on the table. "Does my dad know?"

"Yes, he knows but…."

Dean interrupted again. "Then why-"

"Would you quit cutting me off boy?" Missouri snapped, crossing her arms and shooting Dean a stern look. Dean's cheeks turned pink and he muttered an apology. "Thank you. Yes, your daddy knows. I don't know why he ain't telling you, but I do know he's gonna get an ass-whooping for not telling you boys anything."

"Telling us anything about what?" Dean asked before he could stop himself. Missouri leaned across the table and whacked him on the head. "Ow!" Dean shouted. "What was that for?"

Bobby walked in as Missouri answered, "Didn't I just tell you it's rude to interrupt?" Bobby sat down and without a word began to work on Dean's injured hand.

Dean rolled his eyes at the older woman but kept his mouth shut.

"Your father has known for nearly six years about the demon and what it did to your mother and… and Sam." Missouri looked down and fiddled with one of the rings on her fingers.

Dean could tell she was stalling. "What did it do to Sammy?" He mentally kicked himself for saying 'Sammy' out loud. That's not his name.

Missouri shot Dean a curious glance. "I really wish I didn't have to tell you this." She turned to Bobby and implored, "Isn't there a way to get his father on the phone?"

"No." "No." Dean and Bobby answered at the same time. Dean braced himself for the news. He sat tense on the edge of his seat, clutching the armrest for support. Even Bobby paused in his wrapping Dean's wrist. There was no way the demon did anything good to Sam.

"Well, I guess it's up to me then." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "That night when the demon went into your brother's nursery. It wasn't there to kill Sam. It was there to turn him." She let out a small whimper. "It-it fed him blood. It fed him his own tainted, demon blood." Missouri paused, watching for Dean's reaction.

But there was none. Dean felt himself deflate like a knife had punctured his lung. His brother - his baby brother - had demon blood in him. He was a monster. There was nothing else to it. His brother was a monster. And he had to kill him. Because that was his job. To kill monsters. Does he really deserve to die? Wasn't your job to take care of him? A wriggling sense of guilt wormed its way into his heart. He squashed it before it got in too far. These thoughts flashed through Dean in an instant. "My brother's a monster," he stated slowly.

A/N: OMG ANOTHER UPDATE?! Yes, folks, keep your panties on. I have a few more updates by the end of the day. I would space them out, but I don't want to forget to post them. So here you go. Expect 2-3 more chapters. Thank you for your support now and always and please review what you think!