Well, it's happened again, and gotten a few nice rewiews, so here's another chapter of "Split 2."

"That was some blast, huh?" Sam asked as Dean came to in the room.

"Just like in Onyx," Dean nodded, "only, this time, I'm pretty sure I'm all here."

Sammy shrugged. "No murderous nut job, so we're probably fine. I'm pretty sure I would have noticed another you running around when we left the warehouse."

"I killed the wolf?"

"Yeah, you killed the wolf."

"But I almost got us killed."

"You did what you had to do," Sam smiled, "I would have done the same. We got the wolf, and that's all that matters. You saved a lot of people."

"She was a person, Sam," Dean pointed out, hanging his head, "it's not like she asked to get bitten. I killed an innocent person."

"She wasn't innocent. She'd killed people. The wolf had to die, Dean, and…" He trailed off, watching his brother closely. The sheets had been pulled up to the older man's chin when he'd been placed in the bed, and when he'd sat up they'd fallen down to his waist. It looked as if there were small wet spots on the sheet, almost like tears, but that wasn't possible. It was Dean, and Dean never cried. Well, except for that time in Onyx, but that had been different. That hadn't really been Dean. "You all right?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. Stressed, I guess. And hungry. We got anything left to eat?"

Sam turned to inspect the single grocery bag that held all of the food they had left. He looked into the small mirror that hung opposite the beds and cocked his head in confusion at what he saw. Dean was wiping his eyes.

"You sure you're all right?"

"I said I was fine and I am. What've we got to eat?"

"Not much, I'm afraid. I can run to the store and grab some stuff, but it won't be much until we can find the car."

"All right," Dean grinned, throwing the covers off and standing up. He wobbled a little, and grabbed his head, where, Sam assumed from the look on his face, a headache was forming.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"With you," Dean shrugged, putting a hand on the wall to steady himself, "we're gonna go get something to eat."

"You need to take it easy," Sam said, gently pushing his brother back into the bed and pulling the covers up over him, "I think you hit your head or something. I'll go get the food. You just stay here."

"No, really," his brother argued, sitting up quickly and bringing his hands up to his head as pain throbbed throughout it and the room spun, "I'm fine. I'm coming with."

"You have a headache?"

"Yeah, but it's no big deal. I guess I just hit my head."

"But you don't remember hitting your head?"

"No. Why?"

Sam closed his eyes. He remembered the situation. The headache, the odd, un-Dean-like behavior. It was a repeat of what had happened after the first explosion in Onyx. "Dean," he began slowly, "are you sure you're all right?"

"Of course I'm all right, Sam."

"Call me Sammy."

"Why would I do that? You hate that name."

Sam sat on his bed and rested his head in his hands. "Oh, boy," he muttered, "Dean, have you been feeling any different since the explosion."

Dean shrugged. "Well, I guess. I mean, that little voice in the back of my head that told me to kill you every time I looked at you is gone. Good riddance, I say. Why?"

Sam stared at him, assessing him. Dean looked the same as he always had, but with one difference, something so small and insignificant that the younger hunter was surprised he'd even been able to pick up on it. The older man looked softer. His eyes had lost their familiar edge, his features, though exactly the same as they had been a week before, seemed somehow kinder. Sammy had a sneaking suspicion that he knew why, but was desperately hoping that he was wrong.

"Dean," he sighed, getting his brother's attention, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion, "you haven't done anything."

"Yet," the younger hunter whispered, carefully avoiding his brother's eyes. He took a deep breath and began to lie. "I've kind of been in touch with my friends from school, and, um, they miss me. In fact, they're willing to let me stay with them there until I can strike out on my own again. They've also offered to help with homework and whatever else I need. I'm, uh, I'm seriously considering it."

"Seriously?" Dean asked, tears welling in his newly softened eyes.

Sam nodded. "It's what I've always wanted. I started packing last week, and now that the wolf's dead, I figure I can set out early tomorrow."

The tears had started flowing, and it didn't look like Dean was trying to stop them. He was sobbing, too, swiping furiously at his eyes while his breath hitched in his throat. "Really, Sam?"

Sammy nodded again, watching, horrified, as his older brother's face crumpled and he really broke down. Dean buried his face in his hands as his whole body heaved with the raw emotion he was usually so determined to hide.

That was all that the younger man needed to see to confirm his fears. Feeling worse than he ever had in his life, he sank onto the bed beside his brother. "I'm sorry," he muttered, wrapping an arm around the older man and pulling him into a hug. Dean didn't resist.

"You said," Dean sobbed, returning the hug and grabbing roughly on to his brother's shirt, "you would leave."

"I know," Sam whispered back as Dean buried his hand in the younger man's shoulder and continued to cry, "I lied. I'm staying right here, man, I'm staying right here."

"Why would you lie?" The question was muffled, but still understandable. The hurt and confusion in the hunter's voice could be clearly heard, too.

"I had to know, Dean. It happened again, man. You split."

"What?"

Sam pulled away, something that was harder to do than it should have been, and stared at his brother. "What happened in that explosion? Did you feel anything weird?"

Dean shook his head. "There was a feeling. Like someone pulled something out of me, and I guess the same thing happened in Onyx, but…"

Sam stood up and began to pace the room. He shook his head, his hair flapping around his face. The situation in Onyx had been different, the explosion caused by a man with two personalities. It had been the man's energy that had split Dean, but this time there hadn't been a crazy man in a hospital bed. Just him, his brother, and a werewolf, who had seemed perfectly sane when they'd talked to her during the day. Would any explosion trigger the split now? Or was there something else.

"You said you'd been hearing a voice," Sam said, whirling around to face his brother, "one that told you to kill. Whose voice was it?"

Dean just shrugged. "Mine, but different. It sounded almost evil."

"When we put you back together in Onyx," Sammy nodded, "you tried to kill me. I thought it was just the evil half dying. Kind of a last ditch thing. But it didn't die, did it? We put your body back together, but not your mind. At least, not completely."

"So that murderer's out there again?" He looked close to tears again.

Sam sat down on the bed beside his brother and wrapped a comforting arm around the older man's shoulders. "I guess. But we put you back together once, we can do it again, right?"

"It didn't work right last time."

"Well, we'll try something new this time."

"What?"

"We'll think of something, Dean, we always do. Now, any idea who that freak show with your face might have a grudge against?"

Dean shrugged again. "He's been spending the past month trying to get me to kill you, but he didn't attack back in the warehouse. I can't think of anyone I'd wanna kill. I'm not even sure why he wanted you dead."

"Think harder. Anyone who's made you mad, or," he chuckled, "maybe insulted you in some way. I dunno. Anyone come to mind?"

Silence fell in the room as both brothers thought, Dean about past relationships and rivals, and Sam about the situation at hand. If there was someone out there who'd wronged Dean in some fashion, both Winchesters hoped that the evil man either didn't remember, or that he had enough mercy left in him to spare their lives. Neither seemed possible.

A thought occurred to both at the same instant, shocking them both from the tableau and even causing Dean to jump. "Cassie!"

"We need to call her," Sam said as his brother sprang from the bed and began digging through his pockets.

"I can't find my phone."

"Are your car keys gone?"

Dean nodded. "I could have sworn I had them, but they're not here. Your cell's charged, right?"

Sam handed over the phone and watched his brother's shaking fingers dial the number from memory. How Dean had remembered the number of the first woman ever to dump him, the younger man would probably never know.

"Cassie? It's Dean. Listen, this is really important. Have I called you yet today?" There was a small pause as he listened. "No, other than now. No? Good, that's good. Am I there?" Another pause. "Yes, I'm serious. This is urgent! Am I there?" Pause. "Good. If I knock on your door, don't answer, especially if I'm alone and wearing black, OK? And if you see me walking down the street, whatever you do, don't stop to talk. Just stay away from me for a while, all right?" There was another pause. "Yeah, it's supernatural, but there's no time to explain. Just stay inside and lock your doors. OK. I love you." he hung up the phone and sighed, sitting back down on the bed.

"Anyone else?"

"Are you kidding?" Dean grinned, "she's the only one blind enough to break up with someone as handsome as me."

Sam chuckled. "All right. I guess we just lay low for a while, watch the news for any suspicious murders, and hope that he shows his ugly face."

"My face isn't ugly."

"Oh, yes it is. You just don't know it because you're as blind as Cassie."

Dean smiled. "Thanks, man."

"For what?"

"Just being here, even after all of this. Most people would have left by now. I mean, who in their right mind would want to spend so much time with a freak like me, especially one who keeps splitting into a murderer and a crybaby?"

"Hey, I'm a freak, too, remember? The Psychic Wonder. I'm right there with you, all the way." Both brothers were smiling, though neither knew exactly why.