Disclaimer : Can I be done with this yet? You all know I don't own a damn thing, right? Right.

A/N: More reviews, moooore! Or...or else... I'll hold back:P I like this chapter a bit more than the others, I'm trying to work on getting the characters a bit more...character like. Anyway, at least there's a plot. :P Read, review, and I'll try to get another chapter up as soon as I get my ransom. I mean, tomorrow?

---

"Are you afraid of the dark, Dean?"

There was a gentle teasing way about his voice that masked an almost subconscious curiosity.

"Fuck no," his brother replied, looking offended for all of a heartbeat before his face split in a wide grin. "I'm scared of what's waiting for me in the dark."

Sam smirked and played the beam of his flashlight over the path stretching before them.

It was rare for his brother to admit to being scared, even if he was joking. It was sort of comforting, knowing his brother was human. Sometimes, he doubted it. Sometimes he was almost convinced his brother was immortal, fearless.

Walking the woods with flashlights in hand, he could almost pretend they were just regular guys, brothers out camping, or something fun, something mundane.

He almost felt like whistling, and found a grin playing across his lips.

"What's wrong with this picture?" Dean said, blinding Sam with his light for a moment. "College boy? Actually enjoying himself?"

"So?" Sam shrugged, batting the flashlight away.

"Leave it to you to enjoy something like this," his brother said, walking backwards, grinning, shining the light back in Sam's face. "What a freak."

"Hey, knock it off, Dean," Sam said. "Don't call me that."

"It's a joke, Sam," Dean said, his smile faltering. "Calm down."

"Just... don't call me that, okay?" Sam said, kicking at the dirt in front of him.

"Hit a sore spot, sweetheart?" Dean prodded.

"Lay off, Dean" Sam said, his voice taking on a warning tone.

"Aw, come on, Sammy," his brother said with a disappointed shake of his head. "Don't get all uppity. We're in this together, right? One big happy family of freaks."

"Dammit, Dean," Sam said angrily, "could you just shut up?"

And just like that, he was gone.

Not gone in a poof of smoke, but gone with a wide-eyed look of panic, a windmilling of the arms, and a crash.

"Dean!"

---

"Sam!"

With a start, Sam awoke, his mouth wide open in a silent scream, one arm reaching forward, the other clutching his blanket in a death grip.

"Sam?"

Dean.

Sam blinked the dream away, and saw his brother standing at the foot of his bed, looking worried and trying not to show it.

"You were dreaming," he said needlessly.

"Yeah," Sam sat up, shaking his head to clear the last traces of the dream away; it clung tightly to his memory.

Dean looked for a moment like he was going to let it go, but asked the dreaded question, "What was it about?"

"It was horrible," Sam started, taking a page from his brother's own book on avoidance. "You were..."

"What?" Dean pressed.

"In a Speedo," Sam gasped, putting his hands over his eyes. "God, it was awful!"

Dean glared.

"Nice, Sam, real nice."

As his brother turned, Sam allowed a grin of triumph.

"Get dressed," Dean said, his back ramrod straight. "Then we'll talk about what you really dreamed."

Sam sighed.

---

Over Betty's simple breakfast of pancakes and orange juice, the brothers exchanged glances, watching the woman putter around in the kitchen, offering them more juice and food.

"I've eaten already," she said from the kitchen as she stacked the dishes piled in the sink.

She brought in a fresh plate of pancakes and set them on the table.

"Every year since Earl's been working, I've gotten up at four to have his breakfast on the table," she continued, dusting crumbs off the table with her dishrag.

At Dean's horrified glance, Betty laughed heartily. "Oh, I don't mind. We like to spend as much time as possible together. We're the only family we've got. Family's important, but I guess you already know that."

The remark was casual, but Sam felt his chest get tight.

"I understand that," Dean said, taking a long drink before he went on, "It must get pretty lonely out here when you don't have guests."

Sam shot him a look.

Betty nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we have our friends, Earl and I, but these days no one can seem to be bothered to make the trip between our properties. Of course, you'll understand that when you're older."

"Do you ever get scared?" Dean continued, his tone casual, but the question all business.

"Scared?" she asked, not understanding.

"Well, yeah," he said, "I mean, with all these woods around. Sam and I heard some weird noises last night, we thought it must be coyotes or something."

The elderly woman paused for a moment, thinking. "Coyotes? I don't really know about that...I know there's small game, deer, of course, but I think we're too close to the highway for much else. What sort of noises?"

"Oh, just...you know, we're not used to the country," Sam interjected. "Dean's afraid of bears, so he's always extra cautious."

Dean shot Sam another glare, clearly not appreciating Sam's cover story.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that," Betty laughed. "We haven't had a scare like that in years."

"I feel so much better," Dean said sarcastically.

"Well, I have plenty of housework to do," Betty said, heading back to the kitchen. "Will you boys be heading out tonight?"

"Actually," Sam said, before Dean could speak, "if you have the room, we'd like to stay another night."

"Of course we have the room," Betty replied cheerfully. "In the meantime, I hope you'll find something to amuse yourselves."

"We might check out those trails," Dean said, his gaze fixed on Sam.

The younger brother had a feeling Dean's interest in the trails was the convenient disposal of his brother's body.

"Watch those trail markers," was all she said before turning the faucet on again.

---

Dean pulled his jacket tighter around his body and resisted the urge to strangle his brother.

"Sixty bucks a night, Sam," was all he said as he set the pace on the trail.

"I know, but -" Sam started.

"But nothing," Dean cut him off. "Sixty bucks! Do I look like I want to spend more money we don't have sleeping on floral print?"

"Dean, they're nice people!" Sam argued.

"So?"

"Well, so... what about that noise last night? We can't just leave not knowing what it was," Sam said, jogging to catch up with his brother.

"Yeah, Sam, we can," came the reply.

"What if it was a ghost?" Sam pointed out. "What if it was supernatural?"

"What if it wasn't?" his brother countered angrily.

"But what if it was?" Sam tried again, almost whining and feeling foolish of that fact.

"But Sam," Dean repeated sternly, turning around. "What if it wasn't?"

Sam shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. I just...I hate the thought of leaving them if there's the chance that they're in danger."

"You can't help everyone, Sam," Dean shrugged.

"Why not?" Sam asked. "You try."

"Try," Dean stressed. "Shit happens, Sammy. Sometimes there's nothing you can do. Period."

"Well, in this case, there is something I can do," Sam said, staring his brother in the eye. "I'm not leaving until I find out what it was."

Dean held his gaze, never wavering, for what seemed like hours.

Finally, he shook his head, and spat in a tone of disgust and what could have been pride. "Someone grew a pair."

Sam stood there while his brother began walking again, wondering if he'd just been complimented. Finally, he started walking again, too.

After a few minutes of silence, he spoke up.

"Any ideas?"

"Ghosties, ghoulies, things that go bump in the night," Dean shrugged. "There's a million things it could be and probably a million more I have no idea about."

"Well, okay, so..." Sam started, but faltered.

Dean spoke suddenly, "That noise..."

"What about it?" Sam asked.

Dean shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind."

Sam grabbed his shoulder. "What?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow and removed his brother's hand. "Don't tamper with the goods."

"Come on, Dean."

He sighed, furrowing his brow. "That's just it. I don't know. I've never heard anything like it before."

"Me either," Sam agreed, frowning.

"But, it's almost like there's something familiar about it..." Dean trailed off, looking into the horizon.

Sam waited for his brother to work out whatever he was thinking.

A few times Dean opened his mouth, but closed it just as quickly.

"You look like a fish," Sam commented after the fifth false start.

"Shut up," Dean said, distracted.

Sam complied.

"I remember reading something somewhere," Dean said.

"Shock," Sam coughed into his hand.

"Shut up, asshole," Dean glowered. "Okay, so maybe I heard it. Whatever."

"Go on," Sam urged.

"You gonna shut up?" Dean asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Sam made a motion, dragging his thumb and forefinger across his lips and throwing away the "key".

"I'm not saying it is, I'm just saying it could be," Dean warned from the start. "But that scream... it reminded me of a banshee."

"Banshee?" Sam said, trying to remember that particular foe.

"Yeah, Irish legend. Uh, banshees foresee death..." Dean said thoughtfully.

"Death?" Sam frowned. "Earl and Betty are gonna...?"

"I don't know," Dean said truthfully. "I've heard it a couple ways. Some legends say the banshee shows up to tell of a death of a loved one far away. A death that's already happened. Some say they show up to predict the death in the near future. Betty said they don't have family nearby, so..."

"So it's not looking good for them," Sam surmised.

"That's if, if it's a banshee," Dean said. "It could be something else. It coulda been a damn dog."

"It wasn't a dog," Sam said, certain of that.

Dean sighed. "We'll stay one more night. But, Sam, if it is...I'm not sure there's anything we can do."

"What?" Sam looked taken aback. Dean always had an answer, always had a plan to save the day.

"Well, banshees don't kill, they don't hurt...they're just a, uh...what do call it? A manifestation?" Dean searched his vocabulary, getting frustrated. "Ah, screw it. The point is, they predict the future. They don't cause it."

Sam frowned yet again. "So, you're saying..."

Dean blinked.

"Like I said, Sammy...shit happens."