SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

Spuffyshipper: He will, but not for a while. Yeah, I remember doing that with 21 Jump Street. I've never seen Dark Angel, so I wouldn't be able to do a crossover w\that and Supernatural (or anything else for that matter), but I'm glad you're enjoyin' it.

Pmsdevil101: Sorry. I'm trying.

Windyfontaine: Hey. How ya doin'? Unfortunately, I may not start another "Hunter" story for a while, since I'm already workin' on two other stories. Glad you like this so far. Here's the next post.

FLOAT-ON-CLOUD-9: Thanks. Glad you're enjoyin' it.

Verena: Glad you think so. Yep, that's our boys. Well, hopefully, I won't keep you waiting too long.

Sprite Sweetheart: Hey! Was wonderin' what happened to ya. Glad you're enjoyin' the fic. I will. Thanks.

Stephanie: Wow! That's kinda neat. If I get anything wrong about the town, tell me please. Glad you like it so far. I will.

Mystiksnake: First of all, cool handle. Second of all, new reviewer, welcome. Glad you like it so far. Sorry this isn't soon enough.

DISCLAIMER

Supernatural belongs to the WB. Appleton Wisconsin is a real place, but the psychiatrist is mine. Deals with cutting. Any information I have on this problem is from "Higher Ground" and a movie called "Secret Cutting". Anything or anyone you don't recognize is mine.

In the motel room, Sam sat on the bed, flipping through the channels.

"Boring, boring, boring, boring, dumb, boring..." With a frustrated groan, Sam simply turned off the televison. Dean ignored his brother as he concentrated on his current web search. The older man let out an annoyed growl.

"Let me guess: you can't find anything?" Sam asked.

"There's nothing! No recent suicides, no freak accidents---nothing that would explain what that ME saw," Dean responded.

"Maybe we should figure out who it was first. I mean, we didn't really see who the victim was, and we don't know if it's male or female," Sam pointed out.

"Well, how do you want to do that? Just go up and say, 'Hi. We're new in town. Who died?'?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Well, not exactly like that, no," Sam frowned. He hated it when Dean treated him like he was an idiot. "But, you know, someone had to have seen something," he continued. Then a thought occurred to him. "You know, maybe we should ask the people in the psychiatrist building if they saw something. I mean, that's where the body was found," Sam recalled.

"Yeah, good idea," Dean approved, standing up. "I knew that college education had to be good for somethin'," he continued jokingly as he headed for the door. Since his back was to his brother, Dean missed the flash of hurt in Sam's eyes as he followed him out of the motel. Together, the two drove to the psychiatrist's building.

"How we gonna do this?" Dean asked.

"I'll go talk. After all, we both know how you hate "chick-flick" moments," Sam said. Besides, he really needed to talk to somebody. To actually explain everything that was running through his mind. Dean turned to look at Sam sharply.

"You okay?" he questioned.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll do the talking and you do whatever," Sam dismissed. The two brothers got out of the car and walked up to the place.

"Hi, I'm Sam Winchester. Um, I was wondering if I could see the psychiatrist?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry. Dr. Morgan's booked. But you could make an appointment to see him in a couple of weeks," the receptionist told them.

"Can't you just squeeze me in? Please?" Sam implored, throwing her an endearing smile. Oh, man. He's really laying it on thick, Dean thought in amusement.

"I'm sorry, but no," the receptionist responded. To both of their surprise, Sam kicked the desk.

"If that's how you wanna do it, fine!" he screamed.

"What the---Sam, calm down!" Dean exclaimed. He tried to grab Sam, but he pushed him back. Dean grunted as he fell against a chair. Sam gave the desk a final kick, and then stormed out. Dean picked himself up.

"Sorry. I don't know what got into him," Dean apologized.

"He certainly has issues," the receptionist noted.

"Yeah," Dean said shortly. Then, he went out to the Impala, where Sam was slouched in the passenger seat.

"Sam," Dean said.

"Let's just get back to the motel," Sam responded.

"Right. We could ask around, see what the locals say," Dean stated. "Good thinking," he approved.

"Yeah, well, the college education had to be good for somethin' right?" Sam asked softly. Dean looked at his brother in concern.

"Dude, you okay?" he asked.

"Just drive, huh?" Sam snapped. His brother put his car in gear. As they drove back to town, Sam dug his nails into his palms. Oh, he was such a mess! Why couldn't he just find someone to talk to? Dean was out. He hated talking about anything serious. All he wanted was someone to understand how he was feeling! Within minutes, they were back at the hotel.

"Okay, I'll go talk to the locals. You see if you can have better luck on the web," Dean declared.

"Yeah, sure," Sam agreed. He got out of the car and went back into the hotel. Dean frowned for a minute, confused by his brother's behavior, but then shrugged it off. Then, he went into town.