Chapter 7

Dean watched in silent horror as Sam's chest rose and fell as though hesitating to keep the younger brother alive. He reached over to touch his fingertips to the other's neck and found a weary pulse beating rapidly against Sam's skin. Dean's heart stuttered in his chest as a sick feeling twisted through his stomach out of concern for the other man.

"Sam!" Dean called, trying desperately to draw the other back to him.

Sam's chest fell still and the pulse died away. Dean's heart thudded wildly against his ribs and he kept his fingers pressed gently against Sam's neck, searching for a pulse that was nowhere to be found. The desperation that he was feeling began to take over, but he would not allow it to. He had to stay focused. With concern in his face, he noted that Sam's lips were beginning to take on a blue tinge because no breath entered the man's body.

"Breathe, Sammy!" Dean called. No response came.

Without thinking of anything, but saving his baby brother, Dean hit the lever on the passenger seat and laid it flat. He then went about climbing on top of Sam to begin CPR to resuscitate his still brother. He breathed for Sam and hoped that it was enough. Dean fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone, cursing when he didn't find it right away.

Beneath him, Sam gasped and drew in a shuddering breath. Dean leaned forward to gaze into Sam's face and watched the tired eyes slowly slide open. The younger's eyes widened when he realized the situation.

"Dean, get off me, people are going to get curious." Sam said, his voice was scratchy, but strong and with a flush in his cheeks, Dean quickly moved off of Sam and settled into the driver's seat.

"What are you doing? You scared the hell out of me, Sam!" Dean replied quickly. His voice was strong, but frightened.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I didn't exactly have a choice in the matter." Sam said in exasperation.

"You've gotta learn how to control those things, Sam. They're going to kill you." Dean muttered in worry.

"I try, but I can't. I see Jonathan and I lose total control. That demon, it's always there, whenever I get those flashes, the demon is there."

"Always?"

"Always."

Dean was tense, but hid the relief he was feeling knowing that Sam was all right for the time being. The blue had left his brother's lips and now the colour had returned to his face as well. He kept his eyes on Sam, waiting to see if he would say something else to help him out, but nothing came. Dean sighed, if he wanted to know what was happening he'd have to ask himself. He took a deep breath.

"Sam, what do you think is going on? Clearly you're communicating with this dead kid, but why? Why would he pick you of all the psychics out there?" Dean questioned.

"From what I can tell, it's because I was closest. Dean, he wants us to stop the thing that killed him from doing it again."

"We don't even know where it is, Sam! We don't know what it is!"

"I think I know something that might help us."

"I could call dad, but there's no telling if he'd get back to us. I could try to get in touch with some of dad's contacts, but how do we know that they would know how to help us any better than we already are, which isn't much." Dean replied, not hearing Sam's previous words.

"Dean, I know something that can help us." Sam replied again.

"I'm going to call dad. He might know something, and if not I'll try to get in touch with Missouri. She's a psychic, maybe she knows what's going on with you." Dean reached into his pocket for his phone, but Sam grabbed his wrist.

"Dean, listen to me. I know something that can help us." Sam replied, locking eyes with his big brother.

"You do?" Dean questioned, clearly confused.

"Yes. Jonathan told me something in the vision. We have to go to his house. In the study, on the fourth shelf, halfway down, there's a handle?" Sam asked himself, trying to figure out if he had the facts straight or crooked.

"First we had to come here, now we have to go to his house? You and your little psychic buddy better make up your minds." Dean replied.

"We have to go to his house."

"Okay, where is it?" Dean asked.

Sam was silent, but a strange feeling told him the place was up ahead.

"Go straight up this road, when you reach the end, turn left and then take that road to Jackson's crossing and turn right. The house is the third on the left. It's a big two-floored grey, brick house. There'll be a red truck in the driveway." Sam replied.

Dean's face blanked.

"How do you know?" He asked. Sam shrugged, but Dean listened and followed the directions.

The third house on Jackson's crossing was indeed grey and brick with a red truck in the yard, yet there were a number of other vehicles there as well. Dean cast his eyes to Sam.

"Dude, that's seriously creepy." Dean stated simply and parked the Impala in front of a blue car.

The older brother shut off the engine and climbed out, shutting the door gently behind him. He waited for Sam to come around and then led the way across the street and up the front stairs to ring the doorbell.

There were footsteps from within and a young girl opened the door. She was probably thirteen or fourteen with the same dusty blonde hair as Jonathan and green eyes that were red rimmed from crying.

"Who are you?" She questioned, and her voice shook a bit.

"We're friends of John's." Sam replied sympathetically.

A tear fell on the girl's cheek. "You knew my brother?"

"Yeah, from school." Sam replied.

"What school?" The girl questioned, suspiciously.

"Bronson University." Sam answered automatically. A flash of confusion flitted across Dean's face, but he kept his composure.

"Come on in then." The girl replied and opened the door.

"Who's at the door, Kaylee?" A woman's voice asked.

"A couple of John's friends from Bronson." The girl answered.

An older woman in what looked to be her forties gave the boys a genuine smile and came toward them. Dean was surprised when the woman pulled him into a gentle hug, but returned it nonetheless.

"Thanks for coming." The woman said softly.

"You're welcome." Dean answered when she pulled away from him.

The woman pulled Sam close to her, and Sam seemed perfectly comfortable with it. He returned the hug and said nothing. The older woman pulled away, but held Sam firmly by the shoulders as she stared into his eyes.

"You seem so familiar, did John bring you here before? On one of his vacations, maybe?"

"No ma'am, he didn't." Sam answered politely.

Dean watched the exchange between the two people with mounting curiosity and confusion.

"What are your names?" Kaylee asked, quietly.

Sam's attention turned to the girl. "Michael, and that's Jacob." Sam replied almost instantly.

Dean smiled tightly and nodded his head.

"I'm Kathleen. Come on in boys. The living room's through here. There are snacks on the coffee table. We've been brought enough food to last us months, but I don't really feel like eating right now." The older woman replied.

"Thank you." Sam said quietly.

"Were you good friends with my son?" Kathleen questioned as they settled on the couch.

"Yeah, we were." Dean replied. Sam nodded in agreement.

"He talked a lot about you and the rest of the family. He was pretty protective of Kaylee, huh?" Sam questioned softly.

Kathleen nodded and tears slid down her cheeks. "He sure was. I don't know what she'll do without him, they were close."

"She'll manage." Dean assured the mother.

"Yes, she will, but it'll take time for her to heal. For all of us to heal." The mother broke down into sobs and Sam pulled her against him, allowing her to cry on his shoulder. She didn't resist.

Dean shot Sam a "What the hell are you doing?" sort of glance, but Sam only watched his big brother through silent, stony eyes. Dean's brow wrinkled in confusion and he grabbed a sandwich from a nearby plate to chew on it in puzzlement.

Kathleen pulled away. "Thank you. I swear you seem so familiar. You're sure we've never met?"

"Positive." Sam finalized.

Kathleen shrugged and rubbed her palm across her eyes. The Winchester brothers watched her carefully.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to see to the family in the kitchen. We've got a full house. You can go up to his room if you like. His other friends have. It's the second door on the right after you go up the stairs." The boy's mother smiled softly and then left the living room, where a few other family members mingled about.

Dean hit Sam lightly on the shoulder. "What the hell? Sam, what's wrong with you, man?"

"Nothing's wrong with me Dean. I just thought his mother could use some support. She's lost her only son, show some compassion." Sam replied sharply.

"How do you know she doesn't have another boy around here somewhere? You don't even know this family." Dean replied.

"I feel like I do." Sam said and got to his feet. He made his way to the stairs and carefully mounted them. A confused Dean followed close behind.