A/N: Do I really need to say it? Fine. No I do not own them and yes I am bitter BTW, no, I do not have anything against small towns, but Dean does. Faulk, LA is a fictional town and I do own that.

Thanks again to all my awesome reviewers! I think I finally figured out how to ensure that I replied to everyone as well (yes I am dense that it took me this long to figure out!)

Angst alert! Please R&R! Thanks!

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"DEAN!" In those first few panicked moments, Sam didn't know if Dean was alive or dead. He raced over to where his brother was laying unconscious. Dropping to his knees beside Dean, he held his breath and silently prayed that he was still alive. He exhaled in relief when he felt a faint pulse.

"Dean, hey Dean, c'mon back man. Wake up! Dean, please," Sam begged. The only time he could remember seeing his brother unconscious like this was when he'd been zapped by 100,000 bolts of electricity. His blood ran cold as he thought about how close he'd coming to losing his brother then. He was suddenly struck with the feeling that this could be just as bad, and that scared him more than anything. "Dean," he whispered, laying a hand on his brother's chest, reassuring himself that Dean was still breathing. "Please, don't do this to me. Come back."

"You're wasting your time," a voice drawled from behind him. Sam spun around, and his eyes widened with shock when he saw the man his brother had been talking to earlier.

"What are you doing here? What happened to my brother?" Sam demanded. The man just smiled, and something in his eyes sent a chill down Sam's spine. "You did this, didn't you?" Sam moved his body, instinctively shielding Dean.

"Protecting your brother Sam?" Ed sneered. "How sweet. But it's a little late for that, don't you think?" He gestured towards Dean. "He's as good as dead."

Sam's stomach clenched. "SHUT UP! He's not dead!"

"Not yet," Ed paused. "But he will be." He smirked, and that was more than Sam could take.

"You bastard!" Sam leapt up, and launched himself towards Ed, fully intent on taking him down and pummeling the life out of him. But instead, Sam cried out in pain as he hit the wall that had been behind Ed. What the…? How did I miss him? Confused and slightly dazed, he looked around.

"Looking for me?" Ed taunted, and Sam was shocked to see that Ed was now on the other side of the small room, near Dean's head. Sam howled in rage and started to advance toward him again, but Ed stopped him cold when he dropped down and put his hand on Dean's face.

"I wouldn't do that, Sam. Stay right there. Unless you want me to take your brother's life right now, in front of you. I can do it, you know."

Sam was in a full panic. Every instinct was screaming for him to go to Dean, protect him, but something in Ed's voice told him he wasn't bluffing. He couldn't risk it.

"Who are you?" Sam whispered. Even though what are you is the question he really wanted to ask.

"Ah, now that is the question of the day, isn't it?" He stood up, but stayed close to Dean. He told Sam his name. Sam had no way of knowing that shiver he felt go down his spine at that name was the same reaction Dean had to it as well. It felt wrong.

"I don't know who, or what, you are. But that is not your name, and I want you to tell me NOW what you did to my brother!"

Something flashed in Ed's eyes. "Temper, temper. Might want to watch that. Especially since I did this all for you."

"WHAT?" Sam yelled. "Are you crazy? How could you think that I would want my brother hurt?" Sam glared at him, his chest heaving. His eyes narrowed as he realized something he should have picked up on sooner. "What kind of demon are you?

Ed smiled again, clearly enjoying this. "Oh, very good, clever boy. Figured that part out at least. But don't you recognize me? You should. I think you've been looking for me." Sam's whole body tensed at those words. Then the demon's voice became thoughtful. "You know, I thought about using you instead." Sam's face went white. What did he mean, using him? "But this is so much better. A two birds with one stone kind of thing, as you humans might say."

"What did you do, dammit!" Sam had lost all patience, not that he had any to begin with when they were discussing his brother.

The demon continued as if Sam hadn't spoken. "As for you, Sam, I would suggest that you leave now, without your brother, if you know what's good for you."

Leave Dean? The thought made Sam recoil. If I had just stayed with him as I knew I should have, he wouldn't be hurt in the first place! "Not gonna happen!" Sam snarled.

"Well, never say I didn't warn you!" He sighed, almost as if disappointed, but his eyes gave away his amusement.

"For the last time, what did you do to my brother!"

"You know, I thought about telling you. But now I think I might make you work for it. You're supposed to be so smart, college boy. Why don't you figure out exactly who I am and what I did. When you do, I'll be back. Until then, our business is done." He looked down at Dean again and laughed. "Oh, yes, I'm really going to enjoy this." Before Sam could react to that, the demon disappeared!

Sam blinked in astonishment, then hurried over to Dean and crouched down next to him. He felt a brief rush of relief when he realized that Dean was still breathing, that the demon didn't seem to have done anything more to him.Now if only Dean would wake up.

"Dean?" he asked hesitantly. There was no answer. With the exception of the slight rise and fall of his chest, Dean was completely still. Sam felt the agony and helplessness rise up in him. He pulled Dean against him, unconsciously mimicking how Dean had held him when he had passed out on the road. The tears coursed down his face.

He thought about what the demon had said. What Josie had warned him about. And suddenly the guilt and grief overwhelmed him. "God, I'm so sorry," he sobbed, clutching his brother. "This is all my fault. I never should have let you come with me. I should have tried harder to stop you. I'm so sorry! Please wake up! Please don't leave me!" Sam's voice was anguished, the terror of possibly losing Dean tearing him apart. The sight of Dean, the one he count always count on, being hurt, was more than he could take. It was worse because he knew he could have stopped it. If I had just been a little stronger, needed Dean a little less. I should have trusted my vision and instincts and not left Dean, just to prove I wasn't a liability – just to prove I was okay on my own!

Sam didn't know how long he sat there, softly whispering to Dean, pleading with him, hoping that he could hear him somehow. He had been wishing so hard for Dean to wake up that at first he thought he was hearing things.

"Haven't we already had this moment?" Dean's voice was weak, but it was the most beautiful sound Sam had ever heard. "Because I swear we've already exhausted our chick flick quota."

Sam choked out a half laugh, half sob, relieved beyond measure to have Dean back among the conscious. He couldn't seem to make a move to let go of him though. For Dean's part, he wasn't making an effort to get up either, which sent a thread of worry through Sam.

"Dean? You okay?" Dean didn't answer right away, which did nothing to calm Sam's fears. "Dean?"

"I'm fine." Dean's voice was quiet, and very unlike him. They both knew it was a lie.

"Do you think you can get up?" Sam questioned.

Dean hesitated, then nodded slightly. "I think so." With Sam's help, he moved to rise up, but his whole body was rebelling in pain against the idea. He let out a little groan.

"You're not fine." Sam's voice was almost accusing.

"Sam, relax." Even as he said it he felt his balance wavering. "Damn, I wish I know what that guy did to me though."

Sam had one arm protectively wrapped around Dean's shoulders, steadying him. "Well, for starters, he wasn't a guy."

Dean looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Sam gave a one word answer. "Demon."

"Oh." Dean pondered this for a moment. He brightened slightly. "Well, that's good."

Sam thought his brother had lost his damn mind. "Good? Dean, what the hell can be good about that?"

Dean smirked. "Well, it's just nice to know I wasn't taken out by a senior citizen after all. Now that would have been humiliating."

Despite his worry, Sam couldn't help but laugh. He started to hope that maybe Dean was all right after all, if he could make his usual wise cracks. "C'mon, let's get you out of here. We'll find a place to rest up a bit." Dean nodded tiredly, and allowed Sam to help him walk to the front of the store. At that point though, he shrugged him off. Sam started to protest, knowing his brother was still hurting, but then stopped. Appearances needed to be kept up, after all. If Dean wanted to walk to the car under his own power, Sam decided he wouldn't argue, but he also knew he would be right by Dean in case he was needed.

Luckily, the motel wasn't hard to find. But Dean groaned in realization that it, too, was on the main street. "Seriously Sam, how do people live like this? I would rather tangle with demons and angry ghosts any day than die of boredom in a place like this."

Sam knew it wouldn't do any good to argue with Dean. Besides, he had to admit, as much as he sometimes longed for a "normal" live, this town was a bit small even for him. Not that he was going to tell Dean that. He knew he would never hear the end of it.

As he threw his bag on one of the twin beds, shaking his head in disgust at the flowery bedspread, he thought it was also hard to get warm fuzzies about a place where you find your brother laying unconscious within the first few hours of getting there. He looked over at Dean, who had laid down on the other bed but still had his eyes open, looking straight up. Well, there's no way the ceiling is that interesting, so we might as well spend some time trying to figure this out.

"Hey Dean."

"What?" Dean continued to stare at the ceiling.

Sam was troubled that Dean wouldn't look at him. He knows it's my fault he got hurt. "Umm, you want to tell me what happened earlier?"

Dean frowned. "I'm not really sure."

Sam waited for more information. When it seemed like none was coming, he shrugged to himself and determined he was going to have to play annoying younger brother to get Dean to open up. "Well, what do you remember?"

Dean sighed. He really wasn't up to discussing this. He didn't want to tell Sam that the pain wasn't getting any better. He'd barely made it from the car to the bed by himself, and only by sheer force of will. Laying down helped some, but it didn't do anything for his pounding headache, which made it hard to think clearly. But he knew Sam wasn't going to give up that easily.

"Really, not much. We were just talking and my mind started to wander."

"Why?" Sam interrupted.

Dean looked uncomfortable. "No reason."

Sam picked up on it right away. He hated to ask the question, but needed to know. "Dean, please tell me you weren't caught unprepared because you were worrying about me." There was no answer. The guilt he was feeling intensified. Oh God. This is my fault. "I'm sorry," Sam whispered.

That got Dean's attention. "Sorry for what, Sammy?"

Now Sam was the one that wouldn't look at Dean. "It's my fault you got hurt."

Dean sat up, ignoring the shooting pains that caused. "That's just crap, Sam. What the hell are you thinking?"

"It's true and you know it. If I had just been able to keep my condition from you, you wouldn't have had to worry about me, and would have been more alert." Sam knew his fear was coming true. I'm a liability to him. "I shouldn't have let you come. Not after my vision."

"Yeah, like you could have stopped me," Dean tossed back at him. "Sam, first of all, you shouldn't be keeping things from me at all. I hate what's happening to you, but you should have told me earlier. It's my responsibility to look out for you." Sam started to shake his head and speak. "Shut up, Sam. I don't want to hear it. Whether you like it or not, you're still my kid brother and that's just the way it is. This little guilt trip you've got going has got to stop. This is not your fault."

"But my vision…"

"Look, think about it. Your vision was different this time – you said it yourself; it wasn't clear. It was more a conversation and a feeling than anything else. Because yeah, something is going on here, but Josie also told you that guy – and really, it would have been nice if she could have mentioned beforehand that he was a demon – was going to kill me. Now, I may not be at my most gorgeous right now, but do I look dead to you?"

Sam let out a little smile because it was expected, but the demon's words kept echoing through his mind. Not yet. That was his worst fear - that Dean's injuries were worse than either of them knew. If Dean didn't know what had happened to him, how could they know what was really wrong? How could they know he wasn't dying? He tried to shake off the thought.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?" Sam looked over.

"Where'd you go just now?"

"No where." Sam tried to smile. Trying to ignore the guilt he still felt, he asked, "So was that it? You just remember talking to him?"

Dean looked at him. He wondered if Sam had believed him when he told him it wasn't his fault. He hoped that by Sam turning the conversation back around to where they had left off it meant he had. He didn't ever want Sam feeling guilt over him. "Pretty much," he said slowly. "I just remember him asking for help up, and once I grabbed his hand, I felt a shooting pain across my body. I know he was whispering some things to me then, but I don't remember what it was." Dean frowned. That was really bothering him. He felt it was an important piece. "Anyway, that's all I remember until I woke up."

Sam was thinking. "Well, we need to find out what kind of demon it was. Obviously he could take human form. Smart too, to look like an older person – seems less threatening. But it sounds like he needed you to voluntarily touch him before he could hurt you. And then there's his neat little trick of appearing and disappearing at will."

Dean was lost. "What are you talking about?"

Sam had forgotten they hadn't discussed what had happened while Dean was still knocked out. He quickly filled his brother in, including what he had found out from the librarian (Dean cursed when he found out Josie and her daughter were dead, echoing Sam's thoughts), and what had occurred once he had found Dean unconscious.

"Not a very helpful little bastard, is he? Instead of just telling us, he's going to make us work to find out who he is?" Dean was frustrated. "I don't remember reading about anything like him in Dad's journal."

"Neither do I," Sam admitted. "I figure I can do some research tonight on the computer, but I also want to look up what's been going on here with the luck/tragedy thing. Maybe they're inner connected." As soon as he said it, Sam's stomach clenched and he felt sick. Everyone else the librarian spoke about died. What if the same thing happens here? He forced himself to breath calmly. Think, Sam. Everyone else had a stroke of good luck first. They all got what they wanted before they died. Nothing like that has happened to us. He felt slightly better after reasoning it out in his head.

"Yeah, maybe you're right," Dean agreed. "Couldn't hurt to check, in any case." He started to slowly get up.

Sam put a hand out. "Wait a minute, where do you think you're going?"

Dean looked at him like he was dense. "I'm going to help you research."

"Forget it," Sam said flatly. "You're in no shape to do anything right now. You should just be resting."

"Sam, I'm fine," Dean lied.

Sam stared at him. "Prove it."

"What are you, six? I don't need to prove it." Sam just continued to look at him. Dean couldn't take it. Those puppy dog eyes were going to be the death of him. "Fine!" he exclaimed. "What would it take?"

Sam thought about it for a second. "Okay, here's the deal. You make a lap around the whole room without falling on your face, and you can help. You don't make it, and you stay in bed."

Dean couldn't believe it. He thought about telling Sam to shove it, but because it was a dare, it was irresistible. "All right, move out of my way." Sam rose and prepared to watch. Dean swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The pain rolled over him, but he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore it. He walked slowly over to the wall closest to him and put a hand out to support himself.

"That's cheating," Sam told him.

Dean made a face. "Fine." He removed his hand and continued to move around the room, telling himself with each step that this was stupid, and Sam was being an idiot. Therefore no one was more surprised than him when his legs simply gave out by the time he made it to Sam's side of the room.

Sam had seen him start to go down and put his arm around his waist to help him back to bed.

"Stay," Sam instructed.

Dean glared at him. "I'm not a damn dog."

Sam almost smiled, but caught himself in time. He sat down next to Dean. "No, but you're as stubborn as a mule. And you lost the bet. So just rest while I do some research." Sam saw that Dean was about to argue. "Please," Sam added quietly. "I'd feel better."

Dean sighed. He wasn't about to admit how much the little walk had taken out of him. And as mortifying as it was to admit, he had lost the bet. Plus if it would make Sammy feel better, it was almost worth it. "Fine," he grumbled. "I'll just lie here and die of boredom. But I'm not sleeping."

"Whatever," Sam told him. "As long as you don't get out of bed." Because he couldn't help himself, he patted Dean on the head before he got up. He heard Dean's oath behind him. Sam couldn't stop smile the smile that came across his face that time.

Comforted by the knowledge that Dean would keep his word, Sam turned his attention to the computer. He ignored his own headache, telling himself that it was just due to the wall he'd hit earlier. Within a few hours, he had a pad full of notes, detailing any story he'd come across in the town's online newspaper that looked like it fit the profile the librarian had described of amazing luck then tragedy. He looked at the dates in his notes and saw that Josie and Tasha seemed to be the first victims close to a year ago. He wondered about that for awhile and then got an idea. He looked over at Dean to talk to him about it, but saw with satisfaction that despite Dean's words, he had indeed fallen into a deep sleep.

The way Sam saw it, he needed a couple pieces of information. Who or what the demon was, and whether he was the cause behind what had happened to the townspeople. If so, how and why? Not that demons always needed a why, but sometimes. After reading article after article, and finding nothing about the demon in their Dad's journal, he knew there was only one other source of information. Josie and Tasha. Dean had been right when he said that Sam's dreams in this case were more conversation than anything else. Sam was betting on the fact that the two could somehow reach him in his dream state. If they could do it again, he knew they had more information than they had told him before.

Sam knew it was abnormal for him. Ever since he was young, and especially since Jess had died, he had hated going to sleep. Most of the time he had nightmares, but even when he didn't, his sleep was never restful. So he made due with as little sleep as possible. But this time, he wanted to sleep. He knew it might be the only way they ever figured out what was happening.

As he made his way over to the bed, he looked at Dean again, watching him breathe. Asleep, he almost appeared as he had earlier when Sam had found him unconscious, and Sam had to fight an urge to wake him up to make sure he was okay. He told himself to relax, that sleep was what Dean needed most right now.

As for himself, he laid down on his bed and closed his eyes. And for the first time he could remember, willed sleep to come.

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TBC

A/N: Okay, figured I wouldn't do too much of a cliffhanger this chapter. Hope you all liked it! Please review! Thanks!