Sam shifted restlessly, and Dean knew he was still awake.

They were stopped for the night, parked in a local beach's parking lot and trying to get some much needed rest. His little brother was stretched out as best he could in the back seat, head towards the open back door. Dean had unrolled his sleeping bag on the packed dirt ground just beside the car. Sam had tried to convince his older brother to go to a motel and get a room for himself, at least, but Dean had insisted on staying close to Sam. There was no way he was going to go sleep in a bed and leave Sam unprotected in the car.

"Go to sleep, Sam." He mumbled, tired of listening to the younger Winchester toss and turn. There was a sigh from the back seat.

"Dean, I'm going to lose my mind, aren't I?" Sam asked softly.

"No, Sam, you're not – I'm not gonna let that happen. Now you need to stop thinking like that." He answered evenly.

"Come on, Dean – I mean, we have no idea what this thing is, how to stop it, I can't even leave this car without being overwhelmed by visions. I'm not going to able to hold it together much longer."

"Sam, you don't get what I'm trying to say – you have to stop thinking like that, or you're putting yourself in more danger. It's what it wants – that's the whole point of these visions – to make you vulnerable to possession by wearing you down mentally. You know that people who are afraid or depressed are more susceptible to being taken by supernatural forces. It's spelled out in those runes, man – visions and vulnerability, loss of control, violence, hopelessness, and then possession. You hafta hold it together until we figure this out and banish the fucker that did it."

"I know… I just- It's hard, Dean." Sam's voice hitched slightly.

"I know, Sammy. But I'm right here, okay? So try to get some sleep – you need to keep your strength up."

"Dean…"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. You know, for… everything."

"Dude, don't turn this into a Lifetime Movie, alright? Seriously…"

"Goodnight, Dean." Sam chuckled, rolling over, and Dean could hear the 'I love you too' in his voice.

Sam woke the next morning feeling like he'd slept in a sock drawer. But while his body felt stiff and sore, his mind felt slightly rejuvenated. He'd managed to sleep through the night without a nightmare, and the coming of daylight seemed to restore a little hope to the situation.

Dean had busted out the little kerosene camp stove and heated up a can of beans for breakfast. Sam sat in the open door of the Impala eating his share, watching the sky lighten over the still, glassy lake. The occasional Loon called out over the water, and despite the mournful tone to the cries, Sam thought they were beautiful and calming.

"You know, maybe beans weren't such a good idea if I have to be stuck in a car with you all day…" Dean commented from where he sat, leaning against the car.

"I'm the one that should be concerned, dude – your body does terrible things to food when it digests them. Terrible, unholy things. The hundred or so Dutch Ovens you gave me growing up are proof of that."

"Yeah," Dean laughed, "And that one I gave you last week, too."

"I'm in awe of your maturity and poise, Dean."

"Hey, thanks Sam. I'm usually only told that people are in awe of my huge-"

"Dean!"

"-vocabulary." Dean finished, grinning.

"Jackass."

"Guilty as charged, but it runs in the family, bitch." Dean pulled himself to his feet. "Now let's start figuring out how to get rid of those runes."

Sam scratched at the back of his head unconsciously.

"Maybe if we just…you know, remove them?... it'll break the spell." He suggested.

"They're pretty small," Dean agreed. "I mean, it would still suck out loud for you, but it might work, and you wouldn't be able to see the scars under all that hair."

"Should we, uh, cut them out, or what?"

Dean grimaced and rubbed at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"The scalp bleeds a lot," he said, glancing away. "If we burned them off instead, it would cauterize the wounds and you wouldn't have to lose all that blood. Plus, it'd be over quicker."

Sam gulped nervously but nodded his agreement. Anything was better than being possessed.

"Okay," Dean said, staring at Sam for a moment more before pulling out the first aid kit and his pocket knife. He handed Sam some gauze and alcohol.

"Just clean the back of your head with this, but don't use too much alcohol. I don't want your head to go up in flames."

Sam smiled weakly and did as he was told, watching as Dean began heating the blade in the camp stove flame.

Oh, this isn't going to be fun…

Dean straightened up, holding the knife. The tip was glowing a faint red.

"Ready?" he asked, looking determined.

"Just do it, okay?" Sam gulped, turning his back to his brother. He heard Dean approach, felt him put a steadying hand on his head and brush back the hair.

"Okay," Dean said, his voice slightly unsteady, and then there was a searing point of pain against his scalp. He grunted and squeezed his eyes shut as it intensified, spreading rapidly.

"Stop, Dean!" he cried, jerking away. Why was his brother still burning him?

"Sam, I'm not touching you!" Dean's voice sounded far away.

A sudden surge of pure agony lanced through him like electricity. He heard himself scream, felt his body convulse, and then he knew nothing at all.

Dean had barely pressed the hot knife to Sam's scalp, feeling sick and guilty, when his brother lurched away from him, panting and shouting for him to stop. Dean knew it was painful, but Sam seemed to be in a lot more pain than expected.

"Sam, I'm not touching you!" He shouted.

Sam took a great, shuddering breath and screamed, raw anguish in his voice.

"Sam!"

He reached for his brother, panic flooding him. When Sam started to jerk and convulse, Dean swore and grabbed at his head, trying to keep it from rapping against the door frame. The seizure lasted only a few moments, but when it ended Sam slumped bonelessly in the seat, unconscious.

"Sam!" Dean called again, easing his brother's torso back to lean against his chest. Sam was completely still, and it took only a few seconds for Dean to realize that his brother wasn't breathing.

A/N: I'm so evil… But I wasn't always this devious - the plot bunnies made me this way.