Hmm... I must be making Sam particularly evil lately. A lot of people ahve commented on how much they hate him in my stories. Still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing...
"Why are we stopping here?" Dean inquired as Sam got out of the car.

His brother chose to ignore him. He was lost in his own thoughts, wondering to himself why he'd driven to Lawrence. He hadn't meant to stop, just drive straight through to Cali with a ghost riding shotgun. For a while things had been like before, but the fact that Dean was transparent had become a constant reminder of the boys' predicament. So Sam had sought out the one person who would know how to deal with this.

"I said," Dean stated, suddenly appearing at Sammy's side, "why are we stopping here?"

"Don't do that," Sam scolded, struggling to slow his racing heart. Dean's transparency wasn't the only reminder of his situation, his ability to seeming teleport from place to place served well, too.

"Sorry. Forgot it weirds you out. Why Missouri?"

"Not sure," Sam replied as he started up the walk toward their old friend's house, " I guess I just wanted some straight answers and I knew I couldn't get them from you."

"You calling me gay now? I'm offended."

Sammy rolled his eyes. He'd been trying to find out as much about what was happening to his brother as he could, and he knew that there was something Dean wasn't telling him. Maybe a professional psychic could help, maybe it couldn't. At least it would get his mind off things.

"You know she doesn't like me," Dean muttered, hanging back as Sam knocked on the door.

"Exactly why we're here. Getting Missouri to exorcise you may be the only way I can get back to my life."

"You wouldn't really do that to your brother."

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

The door opened before Dean could fire back a witty retort. Missouri stared out at the brothers, an odd expression on her face. "You've gone and done it this time, haven't you, Dean?" she asked.

"We need your help," Sam said simply.

"Honey, I know that. Come on in, both of you. Now, what can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could help me with a little problem," Sam said, slowly entering the house and taking a brief look around, "what do you think?"

"Can you describe it?"

Sam sighed, thinking hard. "Well, he's about six feet tall, always wears a leather jacket, and annoys the crap out of everyone he meets. Oh, and he's haunting me."

"Very funny," Dean muttered, stalking past him.

"An exorcism," Missouri nodded, "you sure you wanna do that?"

"Won't do any good," Dean smirked, "I'm not dead."

"In a coma," the older woman nodded, "in a act of heroic self-sacrifice you drove your car into a brick wall and now your body's so badly damaged you don't know if you want to go back. Is that right?"

Sam and Dean both nodded. "He's in California," Sam explained, "and-"

"You're heading out there to try and fix this. I know. You're hurrying now because you don't trust your father with your comatose brother's life. That doesn't explain why you came here."

"I need answers," Sam replied, "I need to know why this happened, how it happened, and why he refuses to go back."

"I told you already," Dean insisted, "I was planning on it, but then I decided against it. At least for the time being."

"I don't believe him."

Missouri studied Dean for a minute. He was standing behind his brother, a look of desperation in his deep hazel eyes. She could feel him pleading with her, begging her not to tell Sam the truth, to just wait. He would reveal everything to his younger sibling when the time was right. He would tell her, too, if she asked, just not when Sammy was around.

"I do," she finally replied. A look of pure relief spread over Dean's features. "I would trust him if I were you. He's telling you everything he knows. He's telling the truth."

Sam hung his head. "It's late," he muttered, "I guess I should find a place to stay."

"I have a couple of guest rooms. If you need a break from motel rooms-"

"He needs a break from driving," Dean interrupted, "he's gone three days with no sleep. He hasn't even taken his hands off the wheel."


Missouri sat at her small kitchen table, waiting for the specter to appear. Sure enough, Dean slid quietly down the stairs, glancing briefly into the kitchen as he did. The psychic smiled. "Been waiting."

"How'd you know?"

"I'm a psychic, remember? Now come here, sit down. I believe we need to talk."

"Yeah," Dean wandered slowly over, taking his time to look around the kitchen and make sure his brother wasn't hiding anywhere, "we do. Thanks, by the way. For earlier."

"Don't mention it," she smiled, "now, tell me everything."

"I thought you were psychic," Dean smirked, "you should already know."

"The odd thing about you," Missouri muttered silently as Dean took a seat across from her at the table, "you only let people know what you want them to. I have no idea what's going through that twisted little mind of yours. But I want to."

"It all started two months ago," Dean began slowly, "we'd finally found the demon. Somehow, it got dad and Sam. It's little helper, Meg, she told me that the only way I could possibly save them was if I could walk through solid walls. Concrete. She'd taken them to a building that was sturdier than Fort Knox. I did the only thing I could think of.

"I got in the car, and drove into the side of the building. I thought I was dead. I didn't even bother to check and see if I wasn't. I had to save Sam, you know? So I just went right through the wall and found him, all tied up in the middle of a room. I untied him, we started to run, dad found us, I left.

"Then they got out of the warehouse and they found me. Sammy's the one that figured out I wasn't dead. They called 911, the doctors gave the grim diagnosis. If I ever woke up, I'd never be the same. I think that's when I figured it out. If I go back, I'll wake up. The question is, do I want to?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Because everything would be different. I wouldn't be able to do anything for myself anymore. I'd be a prisoner in my own freaking body. I'd be completely helpless."

"There's more to it than that."

"Of course. Dad tried to pull the plug. He doesn't need some cripple for a soldier, it's just a liability. I'm a liability. And Sam left. I'm lying there in a coma and my charming little brother leaves me alone with a guy who sees me as useless now. Great guys, both of them, huh?"

"Why not go back? I'm sure your father will be glad to get you back, Dean."

The ghost shook his head. "No. I was in that room. I've heard what he's said to me when Sammy and the doctors aren't around. He'll leave. He's already planning more hunts. As soon as I wake up, he'll be gone."

"But Sam will be there."

"You haven't been paying attention, have you? He already left. He wouldn't come back because of something stupid like that! His normal life is out there waiting, he doesn't need to take care of me. I'd be all alone, just lying, day in and day out, in some hospital bed with some fugly nurse feeding me, because here's the kicker, I've severely damaged my body. No wonder dad wants me dead and Sam couldn't care less. I'm worthless now."

"You don't really feel that way," Missouri muttered, realizing suddenly that she was witnessing something very rare. She was getting to see the real Dean Winchester, a young man so broken and tormented by his past that he saw no hope for the future.

"I'm not going back. You can't make me. No one can."

"I know. But why stay like this?"

Dean smirked. "Because now I can protect my brother, just like I promised. I can go anywhere with him. Better yet, there's no where he can go that I can't follow. He can't get away from me now. I'll never be alone again."

He faded out before her eyes, where to, she wasn't sure. "You can come out now, Sammy," Missouri called quietly as Sam pushed open the door from the sitting room, "he's gone. Did you hear all of that?"

"Yeah," Sam muttered, sitting in the same chair his brother had occupied moments before, "yeah, I did. I was right, too. This is all my fault."


Ooh... now the fun can really begin!