A/N: I have blatantly misrepresented the use of Nordic Runes in this chapter. The reverse meanings are real, although some are given selectively (portions of the definitions ignored, etc.) for the sake of the plot. But that's the beauty of writing fiction – reality is what you make it. :)

Sam felt his brother moving the hair at the base of his skull and heard him curse softly. Some of the numbness that had settled over him lifted,replaced by foreboding.

"What?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. "What is it?"

"Did you get any tats during your wild days at Stanford, Sam?"

"What? No. Like I could afford that… Now what the hell is going on?"

Dean sighed and sat back, waiting for Sam to turn towards him.

"You've got some sort of rune on your scalp. It looks like a tattoo."

"Are you kidding me? I mean - do you think this is why…" he trailed off, one hand reaching unconsciously for the back of his head.

"I don't think it's a coincidence,"

Sam let his breath escape in a rush, closing his eyes and leaning gingerly against the seat.

"What do we do?" he asked softly.

"I don't know, Sammy. First we have to research it – figure out exactly what kind of rune this is, what it does, who would use it, and how it got on you. Do you have any idea when it might have happened?"

"I would say about two months ago, but only because that's when these new visions started. I can't imagine how it got there…"

"Okay, well, we need to get somewhere where we can research them, figure this out."

Sam felt his breath catch and looked away.

"I… I don't know if I can go anywhere right now. Every time I touch something, or move, I have a vision. Except for when I touch you or the Impala. And I don't know how much more of this I can take, Dean…"

"You can hang out here in the car, Sam. I can handle a little research on my own. You should probably get some rest, anyhow. You look like shit."

Sam looked slightly less desperate as he shot Dean an annoyed look.

"Thanks for the words of comfort, Dean."

"Oh, hey, no problem, little brother. Anytime." Dean grinned and pulled back on the road. "Make yourself useful and check the map for the closest place that would have a decent library."

Four hours later, Sam sat dozing lightly in the Impala in front of the Ashmont City Library, waiting for his brother. The interior of the car was warm and silent, and he felt ridiculously grateful to be locked safely inside of it. The Impala was now his shield from a world of pain and involuntary voyeurism. He had given Dean plenty of shit about his car, mostly because it was an easy button to push, but he swore silently that he would never make fun of her again. He thought he might totally lose his mind if he were exposed to the rest of the world right now.

While looking for the original rune to draw as a reference, Dean had discovered four more runes in a line at the base of his skull. He had sketched them all carefully, patted Sam's shoulder in silent consolation, and left to gather resources at the library. Sam had been waiting, lost in his thoughts, for about an hour and a half now. He'd had to resist the urge to claw at his scalp and tear the runes from his skin.

He jumped as someone knocked on the window, but it was only Dean, gesturing towards the locked door and the keys in the ignition. Sam leaned over and popped the door for him, noting the sheaf of paper in his hands.

"What'd you find?" he asked hastily.

"It's definitely connected to your visions, Sam." Dean said, sliding into the driver's seat and gestured to the papers. "I found the definitions of the runes online – they're traditional Norse runes from the Elder Futhark alphabet, but they're all reversed except for the first one – it's sort of sideways, which I suppose means it's halfway reversed."

"So what do they mean?"

"The first one is Kenaz. In its usual position it means 'vision' and 'open to new energy'. Reversed, it means 'nakedness', 'exposure', and 'loss of illusion'"

"Okay," Sam said weakly, unable to think of a proper response. He gestured for his brother to continue.

"Next is Beranko – 'loss of control, blurring of consciousness'. Then we have Uruz reversed, which means 'misdirected force, domination by others, sickness, ignorance, lust, brutality, and violence.' And Dagaz – 'blindness, hopelessness'"

Dean paused, looking worried.

"What about the last one?" Sam asked, "What does it mean?"

"It's called Wunjo. It means 'possession by higher forces.'"

Sam lay in the backseat, his mind churning. Something was trying to possess him, and he had no idea what it was or how it had gotten its claws into him. Dean had suggested he get some rest, but all he could do was stare at the back of his brother's seat and wonder what was going to happen to him next. He searched his memory desperately for any sort of clue, some moment when he could've been oblivious to an attack, but there was nothing.

Dean was trying to play it cool and calm, but Sam could see the fear in his eyes. He half suspected that Dean had suggested the nap so that he wouldn't be awake to see the worry he felt.

What the hell are we gonna do?

"Sammy, stop thinking so damn loud and get some rest."

How does he do that?

"It's kinda hard to sleep when mysterious forces are using dreams and visions to drive you mad and then possess you."

"I could sing you a lullaby." suggested, and Sam could hear the grin in his voice.

"Don't you think I've been through enough?"

"You wound me, little brother " Dean clasped at his heart dramatically. "I've been told that I have the voice of an angel."

"Your forth grade music teacher doesn't count, Dean." Sam scoffed.

"Hey, she went to school for that shit, alright? She knew what she was talking about!"

"Well, then, I guess puberty was rough on you in more ways than one, cause you sure as hell don't sound like an angel now."

"What do you mean, 'rough on me in more ways that one'? Puberty was the best thing that ever happened to me!"

"And the worst thing that ever happened to the fathers of this country's teenaged girls. Remember Missy Franco's dad, when he caught you two in their pool?"

Dean chuckled.

"Yeah, Mr. Franco handled that shotgun like he'd had some experience… He woulda made a decent Hunter."

Sam burst out laughing, insanely happy just to be having a normal moment with his brother. But even as he continued to joke with Dean, a part of him wondered how long it would be before some demon evicted him from his own life, and he lost this kind of camaraderie forever.

A/N: It's a little bit short, but I have to work today and it was all I had time to do this morning (when I should have been running errands and doing chores!)