Dean reached the bed in two steps, his right hand knocking the glasses from Sam's face. "Sam! Why would you DO that?" He shouted. "You don't open curse boxes, and if you do, you sure as hell don't touch the shit inside!" He used a tissue to grab the glasses off the floor. He held them, dangling, in front of his face and studied them.

"Dean! What the hell, man? You'll break them!" Sam tried to swipe at the glasses, but Dean held them up out of his reach. "Give 'em back!"

"They're cursed, Sam! You get it? CURSED! Why the hell did you put them on?"

Sam's mouth dropped open. "How do you know?" He finally managed to choke out.

"I can see, dumbass! The box has sigils all over it! What the hell were you thinking?"

Sam's eyes dropped to the case that the glasses had come in. He shook his head, looking back up at Dean. "Dean, there are no sigils on that case. Why do you think there are sigils?"

And Dean stared at his brother, his heart sinking. His eyes fell to the case … the red case with the lighter red sigils. He sank down on the bed, defeated. "You can't see them, can you?"

"See what? Come on, Dean. Give them back, please? I wanna look at stuff."

But Dean placed the cursed object on his own bed, well away from his brother. He picked up the case in his other hand, holding it out to Sam. "Sammy … this case is red. The Sigils are also red, just in a lighter shade. Do you see them? Look." He pointed, "Here and here and over here?"

Sam looked, squinted, but saw nothing but what looked like swirls in the weave of the fabric. He shrugged. "I see some kind of swirls. Nothing that looks like a sigil." But then the reality of what Dean was telling him sunk in.

He turned huge, watery eyes on his brother. "They're cursed? I'm cursed now?" His face went white. "Dean, am I gonna die in three days?"

Dean stared. He stood and hurled the hateful glasses across the room where they chinked against the drywall and shattered.

"I thought … I thought you …" Sam started in distress. He choked the words back once he realized what he'd nearly said. "Dean … I … They all died!"

Dean shook his head, stared down at his brother. "You ain't dying, Sam."

But Sam sat silent, huge eyes blinking fast to keep tears at bay. "I didn't know! I couldn't see the sigils! I wouldn't have opened it if I could have seen the sigils!"

Dean dropped back onto the edge of the bed and placed a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder. "I know that, Sam. You don't have to convince me, okay? I get it. And when I get the bastard …"

Sam thought about that. "It had to be someone who knows I'm colorblind, Dean! Nobody knows that!"

"Sure they do. Everyone who witnessed that asshole in the mall knew it. Joanie knew it. Who knows who she told?"

"But they couldn't have found us! The package was right here on the bed when I woke up!"

Dean's eyes narrowed at that revelation. Someone had been in the room with Sam while the kid was helpless and sleeping.

Unacceptable.

Someone would pay.

He studied his brother. "Do you feel okay? Your Eyes? Headache? Anything?"

Sam shook his head. "N'I'm okay."

Dean wavered. Maybe he'd acted in time. Maybe the glasses had to be on for a while to activate the curse.

"Could be okay then. Maybe we caught it in time."

But Sam turned huge, terrified eyes right on him. "What if we didn't?"

And Dean opened his mouth to reply, but a soft knock on the door effectively sidetracked him. He turned, swearing. "That's Jory. Shit timing."

"Sam?" Dean called out again, just like he'd done every hour on the hour since he'd walked through the door and seen his brother sitting next to a curse box. "You good?"

Sam sighed. Again. "I'm fine, Dean. Honest. No headache. No eye strain. My tears haven't turned to acid. I'm good, okay?"

Dean looked up from the notes he was studying then, his expression clearly indicating that he hadn't considered the acid possibility.

"Maybe it'll be okay." Jory replied from his place at the cramped motel table. "Maybe they weren't on long enough."

But Dean just glared at him. "Not unless his luck changes."

"Dean." John admonished softly.. "Keep it down, please."

"Sorry, Dad."

John sighed, rubbed a tired hand across his forehead. "Anyway, it's time we turned in boys. There's not much else we can do here tonight. If I hadn't lost three days on that damned wild goose chase …"

"Wasn't your fault, Dad. Somebody sent you off-tangent on purpose."

"That they did. Wish I knew who it was, but I guess that's a story for another day."

"It was whoever left the curse box." Sam offered from the bed, and all three men at the table looked up.

"How do you figure, Sam?" John asked, curious.

"Just makes sense. Somebody wanted you and Dean gone so I'd be alone when I found the package. I had to be alone for the ruse to work, otherwise, one of you would have seen the sigils and stopped me, since I couldn't see them on my own."

John stared, considering. "Maybe."

"It's a shame you didn't hear anything, Sam." Jory piped up. "I mean, someone right in your room like that, right at your bed … most hunters I know would have heard someone before they ever got in the door."

Dean glared hard at the younger boy. "Yeah. Well, you wouldn't have heard anything either, if you had the drugs in you that Sam had." He seethed. "Maybe it's time you went back to your own room, anyway."

Sam glanced over to see how the young hunter would take Dean's rebuff, and he had the feeling Jory was trying just a little too hard to appear nonchalant.

Jory shrugged. "Sure, man. I'll leave you guys alone. Family time and all that." he stood, making a big deal of stretching exaggeratedly. He paused at Dean's chair. "See you tomorrow?"

Dean shrugged, still torqued that the guy would take a jab at his brother when he was down. "Depends on how Sam's doing."

"We'll let you know, Jory." John added, too tired to be polite. "We'll call you if we need you."

Jory nodded and slipped out the door, tugging it closed behind him. He smiled to himself as he slipped quietly away, his thoughts already skipping forward three days into the future at how he would have to be strong for Dean when the inevitable happened and chuckling in eager anticipation of that day.