Disclaimer: Sadly, I still do not own Supernatural or the boys, except in my dreams. So don't sue.

A/N:

So sorry this took longer than I planned to put up. I never intended for it to take that long, but last week was super busy. If that wasn't bad enough, I ended up hating what I wrote the first time around and had to redo basically the entire chapter as this part of the story isn't written yet – it's just in my brain. Anyway, I hope you end up liking it. It shouldn't take me nearly as long to get out the next chapter- my life looks to be a lot simpler this coming week.

And again, to all my reviewers, thank you so much! (Does anyone know if there is a way to tell which reviewers you have replied to? I was trying to get back to everyone but then couldn't remember who I had already responded to or not.) On to the story!

Please R&R!

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Dean took his eyes off the road to check on his brother again, who had his eyes closed.

"Stop staring at me." Sam voice was irritable. "I can feel you."

"I'm not," Dean lied. He tried to stop himself, but felt the need to keep checking on Sam. As long as he was around and could see Sam was safe and alive, he could almost convince himself this nightmare wasn't happening. He decided to distract himself and Sam by acting like this was a normal job.

"So, I still like my idea of finding Josie first for any answers she can tell us. Do you already have the address of this chick or what?"

Sam's eyes opened wide. "Crap," he whispered, almost to himself, but Dean heard him.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Dean tried to be calm, but a tiny flicker of fear snuck in that Sam might be having some kind of attack. "Are you ok?" The words slipped out before he could help himself.

"I'm fine," Sam answered automatically. As fine as I can be with a headache from hell that's blurring my vision and the nausea that hasn't completely left yet. But there's no point in worrying Dean with that. "I'm sorry Dean, I just realized…" he sighed and brushed his hand through his dark hair. "I can't believe it," he mused to himself.

Dean looked like he was about to have kittens. "What, Sam?"

"I can't believe I'm about to tell you this, but, ummm, I haven't done any research on her yet."

Dean blinked. "Come again?" he finally managed. Since when had his geek brother ever failed to research anything? Especially something this important?

"Please don't make me repeat it. I'm sorry. I guess I was just thinking more about finding the guy than Josie, and I don't really have anything to go on there yet. Anyway, I couldn't really research…" he trailed off.

With me around, Dean finished the thought. Sam didn't want me to worry and so he was ready to go alone into something he knows nothing about just to protect me. Again. He resisted from glancing at Sam again. And something tells me that the pain he's in – that he won't admit to – probably affected his concentration as well. I'm going to have to watch that.

"It's fine," he assured Sam, who looked like he was still in shock over his lapse. "It sounds like a small town. It shouldn't be that hard to figure out. Don't worry about it."

Sam could barely pay attention to what Dean was saying. God, how could I be that much of an idiot to miss basic research? Am I already becoming a liability? Sam stewed over his thoughts and stayed quiet the rest of the drive. He only perked up when they finally caught sight of the sign welcoming them to Faulk, Louisiana.

As soon as they crossed the town limit, Sam was hit with a general feeling of uneasiness so deep that he almost asked Dean to turn around. He looked at Dean to say something and was startled to see him worrying his bottom lip.

"Dean? You all right there?"

Dean didn't answer for a minute, then answered. "Yeah, I just…I don't know. I just had a bad feeling about this place all of a sudden. But it seems to be gone now." Sam hid his surprise that Dean apparently had the same vibe that Sam did. He decided to keep quiet about his own anxiety, since his definitely wasn't gone.

As they began their slow drive through town, Dean started to look horrified at what he saw. Sam saw the expression on his face and started to laugh, his apprehension easing up a bit.

"What's the matter, Dean," he teased. "Isn't this the kind of place you dream about living in?"

"Hardly," Dean shot back. "Isn't this more your style, college boy?" Sam had to admit it was true. The town really was "small town America" in every way. The houses were all cute and well manicured. Mothers were walking the clean paved sidewalks holding the hands of their seemingly well behaved small children. No trash littered the streets. There were even white picket fences. That part almost pushed Dean over the edge of sanity.

"So, what do you think? Each house has a couple with a dog, a cat, and 2.5 kids?" Dean tried to make a joke out of it but couldn't help but shudder. And not just because of his distaste for a "normal" life, as Sam would put it. Although he'd told Sam otherwise, his general feeling of unrest about the town was still there.

Despite his own uneasiness, Sam smiled. Dean really hated this type of place. He tried to focus on the job at hand. "Okay, so should we start at the library or with the locals?"

"Well, there's the main street. Oh God, Sam, they have a main street. We really are in the twilight zone."

Sam laughed. "It's not a crime, you know. Lots of small towns have them."

"And if I never see another one, I will die a happy man." Dean sighed. "Well, at least we should be able to find everything there."

Dean's prediction turned out to be accurate. "Okay, geek, there's the library. Why don't you start there, and I'll go talk to the old geezer across the street sweeping outside his convenience store."

Sam didn't like it. "I thought we weren't supposed to split up?" he reminded Dean. As long as Dean insists on being here, I can at least keep him safe if he's with me.

Dean would have been thoroughly exasperated if he could hear Sam's thoughts. "Look, we're not really separating. We're going to be on the same street." He snickered, clearly not over the town having one main street.

Sam stepped out of the car. "Look, I think…" he stopped as he tried to stifle a gasp and stumbled back against the car, his eyes closed.

"Sam?" Dean raced over to the other side of the car, panicked. "You okay?" He felt helpless, something he absolutely hated, as he watched his brother, who had pain shooting across his face.

"Just give me a minute, " Sam muttered. His fists were clenched at his sides and his face was pale. "Can you...there's a pill bottle in my bag…"

"No problem," Dean rushed out, relieved to be able to do something useful. He opened up the trunk and rummaged through Sam's bag until he found the prescription pill bottle he hadn't even known Sam kept with him until that morning. He shook out two pills and went back over to Sam.

"I wasn't sure how many you needed, so I grabbed two." He put them into Sam's hand.

"Two is good, thanks." Sam threw back the pills, swallowing them dry. Dean watched him anxiously until Sam's color started to come back a few minutes later.

Sam opened his eyes and smiled weakly. He tried to ignore what just happened. "Okay, let's go then. I'll hit the library while you talk to that guy."

Dean looked critically at his brother. He knew Sam hadn't recovered that quickly. "No, maybe you were right. We should go together. We can use the library first, and then…"

Sam shook his head, cutting him off. "I'm fine," he said firmly. "We can get more done this way."

"But…"

"Dean, leave it alone. I'm fine. Remember, you promised to not hover over me."

Dean was confused. "I never promised any such thing," he protested.

"Well, you should have," Sam grumbled, ignoring the fact that he hadn't actually asked for such a promise. What happened to the brother I had who doesn't show any emotion anyway?

Dean hid a small smile. His annoying younger brother still had his spirit at least. "Fine," he finally agreed, against his better judgment. "We can split up. But we're meeting back at the car in half an hour."

Sam nodded in agreement and started off towards the library but back around a second later and looked at Dean. "Jenner?" he asked quietly, mindful of any passerby.

"Sure, keep it simple." Dean watched as Sam continued on his path, then headed towards the old man who was still methodically sweeping outside his doors. How much dirt can possibly be there? Is this guy obsessive or what? As he reached him, he shot one last worried glance at Sam as he saw his brother disappear into the library on the other side of the street, but then reminded himself to concentrate.

"Excuse me? I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?" The older gentleman looked up, and Dean was relieved to see a smile come across his face. At least the locals aren't hostile.

"Sure thing. What can I help you with? You new around here?"

"You could say that. My name is Dean Jenner. My brother and I are actually here looking for somebody. I'm hoping that, seeing this is a small town, you might know the person."

"Well, you're probably come to the right place, Mr. Jenner-"

Dean grimaced. "Please, call me Dean."

"All right Dean. My name is Ed Wonmish – Ed is fine. Being one of the oldest residents here, I know most everybody. Who are you looking for?"

Dean was momentarily distracted. As soon as Ed had mentioned his name, a shiver ran down Dean's back. Which didn't make any sense. He'd never heard the name before. Had he? He tried to shake it off.

"Her name is Josie. She would have a daughter named Tasha." Dean realized belatedly that they didn't have their last names. He hoped Ed didn't ask.

Luck was on his side because Ed just pursed his lips and shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, although the mother's name does sound familiar. I can look through my records to see if anyone by their names ever shopped here. But I need to put some items away in my store's pantry first."

"I'll help," Dean quickly volunteered. The faster this guy gets his stuff put away, the faster we might have an answer that can lead us somewhere.

Ed smiled his appreciation and led the way into his store. They went to the back where there was a door to the pantry. Ed opened it up and there were several unmarked boxes sitting there.

"Just got in some non-perishable food," he explained. "I could leave it in the boxes, but it's easier to supply out front if it's already out on the pantry shelves." Dean nodded, but he really couldn't have cared less about the explanation. "If you could just stand there and take what I give you to put on the top shelves, that would be great."

"No problem." Dean watched while Ed sat down on a chair and used scissors to open up the first box. While he waited, he couldn't help from glancing in the direction of the library again. He was still concerned about Sam and the latest attack he seemed to have had.

"Hey, you okay there?" Ed was looking at him with concern. "Your mind seemed to have wandered off there."

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah, sorry. I'm just…worried about someone."

"This girl Josie you mentioned?" Ed continued to pass him groceries as they talked.

"No, my brother, Sam," Dean admitted. He was then taken aback – why was he telling Ed this? Number one rule with the Winchesters was that family business was private.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Was that the young fella you were talking with earlier?" His voice had changed to one of sympathy and understanding. "He gonna be okay?"

"He will be," Dean vowed. No matter what it takes. He wondered again why this had to happen to Sammy. Hasn't my brother already gone through enough? Why a tumor as well? Dean knew he would do anything that remotely looked like it might help Sam. Although logically he knew that it was impossible, he was also feeling guilty that he should have prevented this somehow, protected him. God, I wish it was me instead.

Dean was so lost in his own thoughts about Sam that he never saw the red flash that suddenly came into the old man's eyes. But as quick as it had come, it disappeared.

"All right, I think we're about done with this box," Ed said. He looked up at Dean from his chair and reached out. "Help an old man up?"

Dean briefly hesitated without knowing why. Then he inwardly shrugged. "Sure." He reached down to grasp the wrinkled hand….

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Sam entered the library and breathed a small sigh of relief at the coolness the air conditioning provided. He would never tell Dean, but the heat of the summer day really had made the pain worse. He stood right inside the door for a minute, then told himself to suck it up and do his job.

He thought about using the computer to find information on Josie, but looked around and spotted what he presumed was the head librarian sitting behind the front desk. Talking to her might be faster if I can come up with some story.

He walked up to her and flashed a boyish smile that made most women want to agree to anything he asked, before they even knew what it was. Even though she was enough to be his mother, the librarian proved to be no exception. She smiled back at him.

"Hi honey. Can I help you with something?"

Her name tag said Emily. "I hope so, Emily. My name is Sam Jenner. I'm looking for an old friend of mine I haven't seen in awhile. Her name is Josie – she has a young daughter named Tasha. My brother and I are passing through and I remembered that this was the last place she lived. I'm hoping she's still here." He smiled again and the librarian's heart melted. Until she processed what he had said.

"Josie and Tasha? Would that be Josie and Tasha Brenner?" Sam didn't have a clue what their last name was, but how many Josie and Tasha's could there be in a town this size? He decided to go with it.

"That's them," he exclaimed. "Could you tell me where I could find them?"

She looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but they're both dead."

"What?" Sam whispered. "No, that can't be right." They can't be dead! I need to talk to them!

"I'm afraid it is. It was a huge loss for our small town. Everyone knew them. Josie was so sweet – well, of course, you know that. And everyone adored Tasha. So sad, after she had been so sick and then recovered." The librarian sighed, remembering.

Sam didn't know what to do. How was he going to get more information from Josie if she was dead? He figured the only thing he could do was try to get as much information as possible from Emily. "Josie mentioned in her last letter that Tasha was sick, but didn't say what was wrong. And you said she recovered? Can you tell me what happened?" His head was spinning, trying to figure out what to do next.

"Oh, it was so sad. Tasha had leukemia. I'm surprised Josie didn't tell you. She was trying anything and everything to help Tasha. She was going out of her mind, I can tell you that. Tasha was eventually confined to bed." Emily's voice softened. "She had been such a lively child – to see her like that, well, it just broke your heart." She stopped for a minute and Sam waited, silently urging her to continue. "Well, anyway, one day I was talking to Josie and she said she was going to try one last thing. I asked her what it was, and it was the oddest thing, because she wouldn't tell me. She seemed really nervous about it too, but was determined to cure Tasha. And I still don't know what she did, but it worked. The next day, Tasha was out of bed and acting like nothing had ever been wrong."

Sam stared at her. "The next day? That's not possible. Even if Josie found something to help Tasha, it couldn't work that fast."

Emily shrugged. "I know, Sam. Trust me, I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't seen it. But it's true. All I can say is that it was a miracle." She looked down. "At least for a little while," she whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it was only a week after that when they had their car accident. And Josie was such a careful driver, I just don't understand how it happened! They found her car wrapped around a tree – the paramedics said that they were both killed instantly." She sighed sadly. "It really doesn't make any sense at all. But I guess that's par for the course around here recently."

Sam was intrigued and slightly alarmed. "How so?"

"Just that tragedy seems to follow any good luck around here. Take poor Mr. Venter. And I do mean poor literally. He had made a bad investment and was about to lose everything – his house, his business. His wife was going to leave him. But then he won the lottery. It was enough to take care of both of them for life. Except that there was a gas leak in their house one day, and when he lit the stove, well…" Sam listened, feeling sick. Something really was wrong here. This had to be what his vision was about. He realized that the librarian was continuing. "There are a dozen more instances like that, where something wonderful happened, usually followed by death. I mean, I…" she broke off, seeing that Sam had suddenly taken a step back.

"Sam? Are you okay?"

Sam didn't answer for a minute. It felt as if he had been punched by an invisible force, and he couldn't catch his breath for a minute. He felt something so evil pass through him that he thought he might throw up. But all of a sudden, it left, and he tried to clear his head.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just…" Sam didn't know how to explain it. He decided to not even try. "You know what, I think I'm going to sit down for a minute outside."

She looked at him with concern. "Sure, honey. I'm sorry, it was probably the shock about Josie."

He nodded, backing away. "You're probably right." He was starting to panic, and he didn't know why. He wanted to get away before she asked any more questions. He turned and walked towards the library exit, the panic increasing with each step. For another minute, he couldn't identify what his panic was about. But then it hit him. Dean! He didn't know how, but he knew his brother was in trouble. As he remembered what Josie had told him, a cold fear gripped him and he broke into a run.

He went through the doors and looked across the street where he expected to see Dean. He wasn't there. Sam's alarm for his brother increased. Where are you, Dean? He looked up and down the street, but didn't see anyone. Going purely by instinct, he went across the street to the store where he had last seen Dean. Please be inside. Please be okay.

He entered the store, and was worried further when he didn't see anyone. Not even a clerk, or the man Dean had been talking to. "Dean," he called out, terrified when he didn't get an answer. "Dean, are you here?" But there was still no answer, from anyone. Sam was frantic. He looked around quickly, and saw that a door in the back was slightly open. He maneuvered around the aisles and pushed the door open further to see inside. Then his heart stopped at what he saw. Dean was on the floor. And he wasn't moving.

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A/N: Okay, I'm evil, I know. Reviews might save Dean! Or they might not! But do you really want to take that chance? )