Dean could feel his stupid jealously spark up as he tried to leave their dad's motel room. Sam was barely paying attention to him, too busy listening to his phone, to his girlfriend's voice no doubt. He missed those days when Sam would praise him for just about everything, like he was the best big brother ever. His eyes would light up at the sight of him and it made Dean so happy.

Things changed, obviously.

He felt stupid for doing what he did in the shower, for those dirty thoughts, for the image of Sammy taking him in the most intimate way. No matter how their case went, Sammy was gonna go back to her, and leave him behind once again. His brooding thoughts however come to a screeching halt once he saw the owner of the motel talking to cops, then pointing at him. Well, shit.

He pulled out his cell quickly, Sam's number on speed dial, "What?" The irritation was evident in his voice, Dean tried not to notice how much that stung, "Dude, five-o. Take off." He could hear some shuffling, panic in his baby brother's voice as he asked what he was gonna do.

"uh.." The laugh was short and dry, "They kind of spotted me. Go find dad." He hung up and faced those in uniform. "Problem, officers?" He asked as he studied them, one of them had his hands already on his cuffs and gun.

"Where's your partner?" The deputy from earlier asked. Dean decided to play clueless and act like he didn't know what he was talking about. He sent his own partner out to check the room, Dean hoped Sam made it out. His Sammy was smart, he'd find a way.

"So.. Fake US Marshals, fake credit cards.. You got anything that's real?"

"My boobs." Dean couldn't resist, his smile cocky. And before he knew it he was pushed up against the cop car with his hands behind his back. Could at least buy me dinner first.. He decided it was best to not say that out loud as they read him his Miranda rights.

"You wanna give us your real name?" The sheriff asked as he carried a box into the interrogation room. Dean kept the same face, the same smirk. "I told you. It's Nugent, Ted Nugent." The blank stare he got from him was almost priceless.

"I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"We talking like.. misdemeanor kind of trouble, or, 'squeal like a pig' trouble?" Dean asked mockingly. Sheriff Pierce's face was still straight, not amused in the slightest, and also not phased.

"You got the faces of ten missing people taped on your wall, along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect." He said it like he meant it. Dean could only sigh, sometimes it was hard dealing with people who didn't know the truth of their world. He wasn't as patient as Sammy. He just shook his head.

"That makes sense, 'cause when the first one went missing in '82, I was three." Dean's tone was bored. He had stuff to do. A case to solve and a dad to find. He was starting to get impatient, especially when he started spouting off about his 'older partner', their dad.

"So tell me, Dean," His impatience turned into pure shock in about two seconds, "..this his?" The sheriff dropped a book in front of Dean, and not just any book.. His dad's journal. He kept his face blank but everything in him wanted to snatch it from the table and run.

"I thought that might be your name." The older man said as he sat at the corner of the table, his fingers flipping through the pages, "See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out. I mean, it's nine types of crazy." Dean leaned in and watched, his eyes transfixed onto the pages. Old photographs, drawings, journal entries.. Sheriff Pierce was only interested in one thing though, a single page with Dean's name and a few numbers, circled off, a message specifically for Dean Winchester.

"Now, you're staying right here 'till you tell me exactly what the hell this means." Dean didn't say a word, just kept his eyes on the page. There was no doubt in his mind he'd figure out the code.. there was just no way in hell he was gonna tell the sheriff anything.

He hoped that wherever his Sammy was, he was getting farther than he was.

Sammy took in a deep breath before knocking on the door in front of him, made sure his smile was nice, genuine, but more or less, fake. He would rather be bailing Dean out of jail and be near him again, because for whatever reason being without that burning, prickling sensation he'd get whenever Dean was around was way worse than having it. At least then he would know Dean was safe, that if he were to let himself he could probably comb his fingers through his short hair, look into those green eyes and-The door finally opened and so did his mouth, his voice not his own.

"Hi! Are you Joseph Welch?"

"Yeah." The man before him looked older than he should, looked tired and defeated, but a smile was still there, no matter how small. They walked around the junk yard, Sam showed him the photo he found, asked him if he saw him, "Yeah. He was older, but that's him. He came by three or four days ago, said he was a reporter."

"That's right. We're working on a story together." Joseph looked up at him, his eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on-the questions he asked me.." He trailed off like it was still hard for him to talk about, which was to be expected. Sam asked him if it was about his late wife, his sigh long as he nodded.

"He asked me where she was buried." Joseph said, a tilt to his voice in a way of saying that was a weird fucking question to ask, which was why Sam felt like an ass when he had to ask the same thing.

"...And where is that again?"

"What, I gotta go through these twice?" He asked, and Sam could tell that he would really much rather not going through it all again, but the taller of the two knew he had to press on. "It's just fact checking, if you don't mind." Joseph reluctantly answered, telling Sam that he buried her behind their old home.

"Why did you move?" Sammy figured he already knew the answer before he even asked, but he knew he needed his own clear response. "I.. I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died." They stopped walking when they reached the Impala, Sam turned to face Joseph directly.

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?"

"No way. Constance.. she was the love of my life, prettiest woman I ever known." His eyes softened as he spoke, love and regret swimming in his tired eyes. Sam pressed on, needing more information, because there was no way a Woman in White develops from a happy marriage. And so he asked just that, and could see the hesitation right away as Joseph answered with an unconvincing definitely.

Sam tried his best to end it there, to walk away, but it ate at him. The regret in the older man's eyes.. He knew just what he did. He couldn't have known what it would have turned his wife into, but that didn't matter to Sam as he looked back up at Joseph.

"Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a Woman in White?" Sam watched as his eyes snapped up, a confused what passing through his thin lips.

"A Woman in White, or sometimes a Weeping Woman. It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really. They're spirits." He neared Joseph then, his stride confident despite Mr. Welch's confused stare.

"They've been sighted for hundreds of years. Dozens of places in Hawaii and Mexico, lately in Arizona, Indiana. All different women, you understand, but all share the same story."

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense-" He tried to walk away, to get away from Sam's stare and his words but the younger man kept going, following after him. He needed him to hear this, needed to be sure.

"You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then, once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking backroads, waterways.. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again." Sam watched as Joseph's bottom lip began to quiver, like he was just a few steps away from getting angry.

"You think.. You think that has something to do with Constance, you smartass-"

"You tell me."

Sam watched as Joseph twitched, shaking his head as he spoke, "I mean maybe.. maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance never would have killed her own children. Now," He sucked in a deep breath, "You get the hell outta here, and you don't come back." Sam watched as the sad man walked away. His had all the answers he needed.

"I dunno how many times I got to tell you. It's my high school locker combo." Dean said for what felt like the millionth time that evening.

"Are we gonna do this all night long?" And just as Sheriff Pierce asked, he was being pulled away by a lower ranking officer, apparently there was a 911 call, a shooting. He made sure to handcuff Dean to the table before leaving him alone.

His mistake.

Dean picked up a paperclip from the inside the journal, a smirk etched to his features as he picked the lock. He slipped away from the police station skillfully, the book safely hidden in his jacket. His smirk turned into a smile once he made his way to a payphone, his baby brother's voice soothing to his ears.

"Fake 911 phone call, Sammy? I don't know, little brother, that's pretty illegal." His heart pounded in his chest, beyond excited to have Sam do something like that for him. It was like he still cared. Of course that should have been obvious, but it made him happy all the same.

"You're welcome, big brother." Sam said with a small laugh, his voice filled with a fondness he hadn't heard in so long. Dean sat with that for a second, welcomed the heat that filled his cheeks and the tips of his ears. But as soon as the second was over, he knew he had to get back to business. "Listen, we gotta talk." Dean said, referring to the case. Wasn't exactly what they needed to be talking about but he listened anyway as Sam talked about what he figured out while he was sitting in jail.

"So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a Woman in White. She's buried behind her old house." And then he went on about dad and corpse, Dean tried to shut him up so he could explain but he just kept going, "I can't figure out why he hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"That's what I'm tryna tell you!" He took in a deep breath, "He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What? How do you know?"

"I've got his journal." He was slightly surprised to hear the true worry lined in Sammy's voice as he pointed out that their dad never went anywhere without it. "..Well, he did this time." Sam then asked what it said, his voice just as urgent as he felt when he first saw it.

"Same old ex-marine crap when he wants to let us know where he's going." Sometimes Dean wished his dad would keep it simple and just be outright with what he wanted, but he knew it was safer his dad's way, so he would never complain out loud.

"Coordinates. Where to?" Sam asked and it kinda sounded like he was ready to go just about anywhere, but he had to tell him he wasn't sure yet. He'd figure it out.

"Dean, what the hell is going on?" But before the older brother could answer he heard Sammy let out a breath, the tires of the Impala screeching as he hit the brakes hard.

"Sam? Sammy!"

No response. Just the sound of the call dropping and the pounding in his chest.

"Take me home."

Sam tried his best to control his breathing as Constance stared at him from his rearview mirror. Her eyes were cold and unfeeling, and Sam's heart was still in his throat from when he thought he was actually about to run someone over.

"Take me home." She repeated, her voice more urgent than the first time.

"No." Sam could tell she wasn't gonna give up without a fight though as she locked the doors around them, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't get pull the locks up. The next thing he heard was the tires loud screech against the pavement, the car moving on its own. He had no choice but to sit during the short ride to her home.

"Don't do this." Sam warned when the Impala stopped in front of the old house. Her spirit flashed as her brows furrowed, "I can never go home."

"You're scared to go home." He turned around to look at her but she was gone, he looked out the window but there was nothing but land and old buildings, then to the passenger seat where her glance met his with a dead stare. Constance was on his lap in an instant, pushing him back against the seat. Sam tried to push her away but she was too strong, she kept him in place no matter how much he squirmed.

"Hold me. I'm so cold."

"You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been." She smirked down at him before leaning in close to his ear, her voice sending nasty chills down his spine.

"Your mind is." She licked up the shell of his ear, "I can feel it. Every time you look at him, you want to, don't you? Want to be unfaithful with him? Want him to make you feel things you know she can't?" Her cold lips brushed his cheek and he couldn't control the gasp that passed through his lips. Flashes of Dean in his lap instead, kissing him deeply, grinding against him-"See? Unfaithful." She laughed as she pressed her bottom against his erection. Hot tears burned his eyes as he tried to reach for the keys, to find some way of escape.

She flashed again, but that time she changed into something completely horrific. His screams filled the car as her hand dig into his flesh, almost tearing him apart if it wasn't for the bullets flying through the window. Sam sat up fast and angry, his tears spilling down his cheeks, "I'm taking you home." He turned on the Impala and hit the gas.

What the fuck is he doing?! Dean thought as he watched from outside, his gun lowered as Sam drove his car right into the goddamn house. "Sam!" He called out for him as he ran inside. He made his way to the passenger side and yanked Sammy out and into his arms.

"You idiot. Are you okay?" Dean asked, his arms still wrapped around him. This was what he needed the whole time, to feel Sam against him. It felt so good. "I-I'm fine, Dean." Sam stuttered, his body burning beautifully against his brother's. The moment didn't last long though once they remembered where they were. They pulled away maybe a little too fast, their cheeks crimson as Constance threw down her family portrait.

She raised her arm and then suddenly they were pressed up against the car with a dresser just about crushing their legs. Sam was silently glad his erection died down after seeing that ugly face, otherwise he'd be feeling a whole new pain. The electricity crackled around them, snatching Sammy out of his childish thoughts. Constance slowly turned as water trickled down the steps. The only thing Sam and Dean could see at first was the shadow of a child.

"You've come home to us, mommy."

And then suddenly two kids were behind her, her kids. A boy and a girl, both sopping wet with wide eyes. She stared down at them with true horror as they wrap their arms around her, their souls tugging at hers in an ugly fight, Constance screamed while her face flashed back and forth until she was completely pulled down into the floor. Her screams faded with the sound of water through a drain.

Finally they were able to push the dresser off of them and finally able to take in much needed air. "So this this is where she drowned her kids.." Dean said as they stared at the spot where they disappeared. "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them." Sammy said with a proud smile, because he was the one who figured it out. Dean decided not to hide the fact that he was proud of him this time.

"You found her weak spot." He gave a pat to Sam's cheek but his touch lingered until it laid flat against the side of the younger man's neck. Dean's eyes were so soft as his thumb wiped away the still wet tear streak. "Good job, Sammy." He didn't ask why his baby brother was crying, just ruffled his hand through his hair before finally retracting his touch and walked away to the Impala.

Sam's cheek burned where Dean touched him. He could feel the need build up again, stronger than before, the need to fall into the safety of his big brother's embrace. "See? Unfaithful." Constance's words break through his thoughts and brought him back down to reality. He thought of Jessica, to her beautiful blond waves and her bright blue eyes, her loving, never judging arms-There. That was it. Sam was okay again, for the moment anyway.

"Wish I could say the same for you." Humor was what he decided to go with instead, what they both seemed to go with, "What were you thinking, shooting Casper in the face, you freak?" Sam asked through a laugh. That part was kinda funny at least. Just wasn't funny when he was crying.

"Hey, I saved your ass." He reminded his baby brother with a big grin. He was so happy, too happy. He was high on the rush of solving a case, not to mention high on Sammy's presence. It felt right working together, so natural. He didn't know how much he needed it until he finally had it again. He clung to the hope that he'd continue to have it, the interview and Jessica the last thing on Dean's mind.

"Okay, here's where dad went." Sam said as he struggled to keep the flashlight in between his cheek and shoulder, his fingers gliding across the map in his lap. "It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

"Sounds charming. How far?" Dean asked, taking just a second to look down at the map and back to the road again. "About 600 miles." Sammy replied as he finally removed the flashlight from that uncomfortable position.

"If we shag ass we can make it by morning."

Sam paused for a second, his heart in his throat as he looked up at his big brother. He looked so happy, so excited. God, this wasn't fair. "Dean, um.." His gut twisted once he saw the happiness fall from the older Winchester's face. "You're not going.." It wasn't a question, or even an order, just a sad realization. Dean blamed himself for getting too excited about it. For a while he got lost in it, lost in their little world. Reality was much harsher it seemed.

"The interview's in ten hours. I got to be there." Sam found himself explaining anyway. Dean wouldn't really look at him. The older brother refused to let Sammy see him upset. He blinked away those stupid tears and just nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'll take you home."

The rest of the hour drive was silent and dark, the road only illuminated by a single headlight. I'm sorry, Dean. Wish I didn't leave. Wish I wasn't scared. All the things he could have said swirled through his head as he leaned back against the seat. He shut his eyes and forced himself to block out everything, only concentrating on the music coming from the radio.

Before he knew it the car stopped right in front his building, he looked up at the familiar entryway. He gathered his bag and shut the door, making sure to lean down to spare his brother a glance. "Maybe this.. maybe we can meet up later." Sam came to the conclusion that he couldn't just forget Dean. He'd rather have him at a distance than not at all.

Dean wasn't sure if he could handle being second to his baby brother. Not with what they'd been through, not with what they'd done. It wasn't healthy, him wanting to blow apart all of Sammy's chances at a normal life. He didn't know how to put that into words, so he just responded with a soft, "Yeah, Sammy. We'll do that."

The youngest Winchester patted the Impala before walking away, turning away from his brother and to the steps. His feet stopped moving halfway when Dean called his name, he turned instantly, wanting something that would make him get back in the car.

"We made a hell of a team back there, little brother." Dean said, instead of everything else he wanted so desperately to let out. Sam's smile was small and fond despite that, even if his hazel eyes showed the smallest amount of disappointment.

"Yeah.. we did, big brother. We really did."

Dean gave him one last smile before pulling off, Sam watched until he was down the street and passed the corner. He felt empty without the sensations his brother gave him from just being right beside him, but he told himself it was for the best as he made his way up stairs to the first real home he ever had.

"Jess?" He called out as he shut the door behind him. "You home?" He made his way to the kitchen first, his heart warming once he saw the tray of freshly baked cookies. Sweets for my sweetie. Love you - Jess. Said the handwritten note beside the tray. His mood lifted slightly as he took one of the delicious treats.

Such a dork, Sam thought gleefully. He figured she was out with friends, and that was okay. He told himself he'd call her before going to sleep, if she wasn't home before then. What he truly yearned for was the feeling of his bed, something he missed the short time he was gone. He fell down with a plop and exhaled a sigh of pure relief. For the moment, things were okay. He'd be fine tonight.

He felt something wet fall against his cheek. Huh? Then another. Could have sworn we got that leak fixed, he thought absentmindedly as he finally opened his eyes. Jessica stared back at him, her bloodied corpse against the ceiling. His screams filled the room as she was engulfed in flames, just like his dream but it was different this time because for the life of him he just wouldn't wake up.

"Sammy! Sam, what-oh..oh god-Get up, we have to go." He could hear his brother calling for him but he was somewhere off in the distance, his hands reaching for her as if he could save her. But he knew he couldn't. She burned and burned as he was carried away by Dean. Even as he sat in the impala, waiting for Dean it felt like he was in that room. Could still feel the heat, could still smell the burning of her flesh. That note was probably nothing but ashes. The ring he got for her was no doubt destroyed, it was still in his duffel that was in the room. It was all gone.

Dean's voice was muffled in the background of his thoughts, just as the sound of the car starting. Sam couldn't process anything, just didn't care anymore. He leaned over and rested his head against Dean's chest, his hands clinging to his jacket like it was the only thing keeping him connected to reality, the only thing reminding him that he wasn't in that room anymore.

Dean meant warmth. Dean meant safety. Dean meant everything would be okay. And so he clung to Dean until his mind wasn't in that room, and maybe even a little longer. Definitely a little longer.