Sorry guys and dolls, this chapter's rather long, but I hope you stick with it for the long hall! It's definitely worth it! I also hope you'll read and review for me because that's what keeps me going!

Oh and this chapter gets awfully intense toward the end. I mean, ANGST up the ying yang!

And to all my reviewers thus far and too the people who've put me on their fav list or put me in a community; thank you, thank you, thank you! You guys make this so much more fun for me!

Enjoy!

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When Dean returned he was surprised to find Sam fast asleep on the couch with a content smile on his face. It was good too see Sam sleeping but at the same time it just didn't seem natural. The way Sam's body was just so relaxed as if he didn't have a care in the world was a far cry from the kid Dean had known growing up. Still Dean would let it be for now. It was just about lunch time and he was hungry.

The next morning Dean awoke to the smell of something rather fantastic. Taking his stomach's lead he climbed from his bed with a yawn and stumbled from the room. As he excited he stuck his head into his brother's room to see if he was imagining the smell and that his brother would still be asleep.

But no, Sam's bed was empty. Dean was about to leave when he heard what sounded like a sneeze. Curious, he walked into the room and saw Sam's duffel bag sticking out half-hazard from underneath the bed.

"Nice Sam," he sighed. He leaned down to push the bag back under when he thought he heard yet another sneeze and froze. "If that is a rat I am SO not going to be happy," he hissed. Getting down on all fours and grabbing a gun from Sam's bedside table, Dean peered under the bed to meet the little furry rodent head on. Fighting demon monsters from hell was nothing. Hell Dean would even go up against another psycho human being if he needed to but there was one thing in all the world Dean just couldn't face.

Rodent's. Beady eyed, whisker sporting, long tailed, hairy bodied, tiny footed, undeniably hideous, rodents. And the sound they made, it was worse then a dentist drill, worse then the noise his Impala had made once when Sam pushed it on empty for too long. Dean would sooner step on to a plane then touch one of the little beasts and now was no different. Dean took a deep breath and braced himself for the inevitable incursion.

But there was no rodent, only a small plain gray box tucked back against the wall and the bedside table. Curious, Dean raised an eyebrow and reached for the box, wondering what his brother could possibly be keeping in there and praying to god Sam hadn't decided to pick up a pet rat.

"Dean!" Dean stopped short and retracted his hand when he heard his brother call from the kitchen. "Dean wake up I made breakfast!" Sam called. With that Dean's stomach rumbled, the box would have to wait.

Dean stood up and dusted himself off before heading back out to the kitchen where he found Sam placing scrambled eggs on two plates. The wondrous aroma of a big healthy breakfast made Dean's mouth water. He plopped down in a chair and took in the sight before him. Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, cheese, orange juice, blueberry pancakes, muffins, fresh fruit and a steaming pot of coffee.

"Man Sammy, what did I do to deserve this?" Dean asked. When Sam had woken up from his nap the day before the two brother's had barely spoken a word to one another. Eventually they went their separate ways again, Sam to his room and Dean down to the lake to get some sun and have a nice cold beer. When he's returned for dinner Sam was sitting in the living room waiting for him with an apologetic look on his face.

"Dean," he had said. "What I said earlier… it was stupid and I, I'm sorry you have to deal with so much of my shit. I'm also sorry I didn't tell you or dad about that ghost I took out." Dean had accepted the apology and wasn't really all that mad anyway. If anything he was concerned that Sam had once again, done an about face with his emotions.

All of a sudden the quiet, reserved and emotional Sam had once again appeared begging for his older brother's forgiveness. It was after that apology that Dean decided something was definitely wrong with his brother but what… he still had no idea. It could be attributed to where they were and if it reminded Sam of Jess or it could have been whatever was in that box Sam had clearly gone out of his way to hide. Either way, it needed to be dealt with and soon.

"What? A guy can't make his big brother breakfast?" Sam smiled. "You bought the supplies, I'm just returning the favor." He sat down across from Dean and nodded toward the food. "Well? Dig in!" he said. Dean picked up his fork but then paused and looked at his brother. Sam's skin seemed slightly pale and his eyes were a bit blood shot.

"How's the arm?" Dean asked. Sam had just popped a piece of bacon in his mouth but raised an eyebrow and swallowed.

"Fine, why?" he asked casually. Dean wanted to ask more but considering the fight they'd had the last time he'd tried to care for Sam, he decided keeping his mouth shut was best.

"No reason, pass the toast," Dean replied. Sam nodded vigorously and handed him the plate of toast. That's when Dean saw it, the plate was shaking, more importantly, Sam's hand was shaking it. Dean raised an eyebrow as he watched the limb shake before taking the plate and looking his brother in the eye. He was filled with worry when Sam sheepishly looked away.

"I'm fine," he said.

"I didn't ask," Dean replied.

"The shaking… it's nothing really," Sam said. "Just need a good shower and I'll be okay."

"Okay," Dean answered. He took a piece of toast off the plate and placed it on his own before handing the toast back. Sam's arms still shook but he quickly but the plate down so as not to be noticed so much. The overwhelming urge to ask his brother more questions made it difficult for Dean to eat his breakfast as if nothing were wrong. But he managed however and only snuck a few glances at his slightly tired looking brother.

When they were cleaning up afterward Dean decided to air on the side of caution and turned to his brother.

"Did you sleep okay last night?" he asked. Sam looked up at him and for a moment Dean was sure they were going to have another fight about him being over protected. But Sam shrugged and went back to drying dishes.

"I think that nap yesterday threw me off," he replied. "But I slept enough."

"You sure? Cause you look a little, I dunno, pale and your hands…"

"Dean I told you it's nothing," Sam interrupted. He sighed and picked up another dish, this time his hands were shaking much more violently.

"You can't tell me that's nothing Sammy," Dean said. "Are you sick? Is that it?" Clearly he was starting to bother Sam and he figured if he could just push it a bit more he'd get answers.

Dean was sadly mistaken however as his brother never got a chance to reply. Sam suddenly grunted and doubled over in pain, the dish slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. Dean immediately got to his brother's side to help him. "What is it Sam? What's wrong?" he asked.

Shock was an understatement when Sam straightened himself up still with a pained face and shoved Dean away.

"I'm fine," he huffed. "I just… need some more sleep."

"You don't look tired Sam, you look like you're in pain," Dean replied. He tried to get close to his brother again only to have Sam push past him toward his room. Dean followed but had the door slammed in his face and locked with a click. He knocked on the door and tried to open it even though he knew it was futile. "Sam come on," he urged. "Let me help you! Tell me what's wrong?"

"I don't need your help!" Sam's strangled reply came back. "Just leave me alone for one god damn minute Dean!"

"Fine," Dean huffed. "I'm gone." He headed back over to the couch and dropped down picking up the remote to the tv. As he flipped through the channels he couldn't pay attention as his thoughts kept returning back to his ailing brother. What kind of big brother was he, that he couldn't figure out what was wrong with his sibling? It also was a big concern that Sam didn't seem to trust him to handle the truth well, which hurt even more.

Dean sighed, he knew he was failing his brother and for the life of him didn't know how to stop without finding out the truth. Maybe the answers lay in that box under the bed or maybe Sam just needed some time…

The middle Winchester frowned and looked at his brother's closed door. Was that it? Did Sam need time away from him? Was he the thing that was causing the youngest Winchester so much stress that it physically made him ill? The damning thoughts tied knots in Dean's stomach as he sank lower in his chair. A failure and now unwanted, so much for a happy vacation, maybe they should have kept going like Sam had originally wanted.

Or perhaps maybe the best thing to do at the moment would be to take sometime away from each other. It wasn't often you'd have siblings at their age sticking so close to each other as much as they did. Possibly in Sam's quest for normality he had realized this and wanted a break.

Dean considered that for a moment but then he shook his head. He'd given Sam more then ample opportunity to leave him. And he knew if Sam really wanted to be without his older brother, he'd leave as he pleased. It wasn't as though Dean was holding him against his will. Sam was a big boy and he would figure things out for himself...

…Dean hoped.

When tea time rolled around Sam and Dean headed back to the main homestead where Louise and Midge were eagerly awaiting them. Midge all but smothered Sam in kisses before the four of them sat down to tea.

As time passed and they chatted with the women about their grandkids and Montana life in general, Dean had clearly noticed another change in his brother's demeanor. Sam was smiling and joking and chatting like he was on top of the world. The two elderly women seemed to be loving it, thankfully they weren't catching on that something was amiss.

There was no point in lying to the women about what the brother's did because both of them pretty much already knew. They didn't go into detail but it was kind of nice to have a conversation without lying and not have people think they were crazy. Dean relaxed after a while and joined in the conversation explaining just how rock salt effects spirits.

Three o'clock rolled around and the tea and cookies were long since gone. Dean hadn't even been paying attention to the time and was surprised when he looked at his watch. He'd actually enjoyed the old women's company and was feeling rather good at the moment. But no matter how he felt, he still hadn't forgotten about his younger brother and that odd episode that had happened earlier that morning.

"Well I better get going," Midge said. "I have to get back to the ranch and make sure Harold doesn't burn down the house trying to make himself a sandwich." The group of people laughed as Midge stood. Sam stood as well and held out an arm for the woman.

"M'lady," he smiled. Midge laughed and hooked her arm under Sam's.

Dean watched them leave the room and turned back only to be surprised by the concerned look on Louise's face.

"Is something wrong?" Dean asked.

"You tell me sweetheart, he's your brother," Louis replied. Dean raised an eyebrow and looked from the doorway back to the old woman then leaned forward.

"You noticed it too?" he asked inquisitively. Maybe he wasn't the only one who was thinking something was wrong with Sam.

"All I know is that the last time that boy came here he was shy, apologetic and humble. Now he's edgy, bubbly and… something just seems not right about him," Louise said. Dean looked at her some more then sighed and shrugged.

"I know something's up, I'm just not sure what it is," he replied. "Every time I try and get answers he snaps at me and locks himself away from me." Now it was Louise's turn to sit forward with a raised eyebrow.

"And when you see him again, he's happy? Like nothing's wrong?" he asked. Dean nodded and grew concerned when the older woman sighed heavily and sat back. "With his pale skin and the edginess… A friend of mine had a son who was exactly the same."

"Oh?" Dean asked. "And what happened to him?" Louise looked Dean in the eye and he knew he wasn't going to like the answer.

"He overdosed on painkillers," she said gently. "Sad really, he'd been using for several months and no one had thought to check for them." Dean felt his heart rate quicken and his stomach turn over in disgust.

"Are you saying you think Sam… that he might be on drugs?" he asked. Many years ago on a hunt with their father Dean had gotten separated from the two. It was is a small city alley way in a not so great part of town. At 15 Dean had thought himself invincible and untouchable by anything but that night, that night he'd been scared out of his mind.

After searching for his dad and Sam, Dean had accidentally wandered into a group of individuals who were so high, Dean doubted if they'd ever come down. The look in their eyes had been crazy and hysteric. They shouted slurred sentences that didn't make any sense and then they'd tried to grab Dean. What they were after Dean would never know as his father and Sam showed up at just that moment and quickly removed him from the scene. Still Dean had been terrified that those people were so out of it and had for the first time, truly feared for his life.

Once they were safe, Dean had asked his father about those people in the alley and asked why they'd want to do that to themselves. John had looked at Dean and simply said, 'I don't ever want to find out why Dean. You and Sammy promise me you'll never go near that crap.' Dean didn't have to be told twice, nor did Sam, the fear had been evident on the young boys face during the extrication. Drugs wasn't something the Winchester's took lightly, then or ever. They skewed your perception of reality and could end up making you make mistakes. In this line of work, those mistakes could get you killed or worse… get a family member killed.

The idea that Sam might be on drugs sent shivers through Dean's body. He wanted to believe it wasn't true but couldn't bring his mouth to form the words.

"I'm not saying anything," Louise shrugged. "Only that I think you need to have a serious discussion with that boy before things get any worse." Dean looked back to the doorway where Sam had gone with Midge.

"Believe me I know," he sighed. "And I will." The idea that his little brother had turned to drugs to keep him going was sad and almost unbelievable. At the same time however it would explain a lot; the mood swings, the naps in the middle of the day, sleeping soundly, the shaking hands, pale skin and the constant need to be alone.

'Oh Sammy,' Dean thought to himself. 'What are you doing kid?'

Later that day after a nice lazy afternoon sitting on the deck of the cabin with some beers, Dean and Sam decided to head into the small town to a pub they'd passed on the way in. Since his conversation with Louise, Dean had kept a constant eye on his little brother. He tried to pay attention to all the little things about Sam.

After watching his brother, Dean made a note of all the things that would indicate his brother could possibly on drugs. Sam's eye twitched every so often, his hands shook and his body language was nervous and broken. All in all, Dean's suspicion grew and his heart sank even more. Finally Dean had had enough as they finished up their meals and sipped their beers. He opened his mouth to speak but Sam beat him to it.

"We should take a vacation more often," Sam smiled. His eyes were looking very droopy and content. He leaned back in his chair and let out a belch. "I could get used to this."

"Sam?" Dean sighed. He needed to know before it drove him insane. He just had to find out what was going on with his brother. However he didn't feel right flat out asking Sam if he was on drugs so he thought of another less direct way. A way that was simple enough to lead into the ultimate question. Something else that had been driving him nuts. Something driving him insane since he saw it that morning but missed his chance to investigate.

"Yeah?" Sam replied.

"What's in the box under your bed?" For a moment Sam just looked at him then he sighed and turned away. It had almost looked like a small amount of fear had danced across the man's features.

"Picture's of Jess and some of her personal stuff…" Sam turned back to Dean his eyes intense with an unnamed emotion. "You didn't look did you?" he asked. Dean suddenly felt childish for being so curious. If Sam was keeping a box of Jess's things he had no right to pry about that. And maybe that was why Sam was acting strange recently, maybe it was because he was working up the nerve to talk to Dean about what he was feeling. It made more sense then thinking Sam was on drugs.

"You know me better then that Sammy," he said.

"Yeah I do Dean," Sam sighed. "Look, the stuff in there is… I'm just not ready to show it to you yet okay? Promise me you'll let me keep my little slice of normal."

"Okay Sam," Dean said. "I wont touch the box, probably would be sick at all that mushy stuff anyway." Sam laughed and thumped Dean on the back.

"Heaven forbid you be exposed to pictures of true love," he replied. Dean turned away laughing.

"Gag me," he replied.

"Uh oh, I think I'm dieing." Dean whipped his head toward his brother ready to dial nine one one and call for help until he saw the goofy smirk on Sam's face. Then he followed Sam's gaze toward the jukebox in the corner where a rather good looking brunette woman swayed her voluptuous hips to the music. "Because this has got to be what heaven looks like," Sam replied. The woman was batting her eyelashes and winking at Sam and much to Dean's surprise, his little brother was reciprocating.

"Jesus Sammy, put your tongue back in your head," Dean said. But his words clearly fell on deaf ears as Sam stood up and finished off the last bit of his beer.

"Don't wait up for me Dean," he smirked. Frowning Dean reached forward and grabbed Sam's wrist stopping him short.

"It's five mile walk back to the cabin Sam. You can't walk back in the dark it's too dangerous," he said. Sam looked at Dean and then in absolute disgust at the hand on his shoulder. It was such an awful look that Dean retracted his hand as though it had been burned. Sam then looked back at him and smiled as if he hadn't just visually snapped.

"I don't intend to walk back in the dark," the young Winchester smirked. Then he looked back at the brunette who was still suggestively looking at him and biting her nail provocatively. "I intend to get a ride back with her in the morning," Sam added.

Before Dean could say anymore Sam was gone across the room pulling the brunette into his body and matching her movements to the music. Dean watched in astonishment as his brother not only danced, but danced well and seemed to be laying on all the charm Dean didn't even know his brother was capable off. Under normal circumstance Dean would have been cheering his brother on and thanking all the gods that be, that Sam had burst forth from his Emo shell. But not tonight, tonight it just seemed… wrong to see his little brother act in such a manner.

It was as though all of a sudden Sam didn't appear to care about Jess. Which didn't make sense considering the box that lay beneath his bed. A box that not seconds ago he'd been adamant about Dean not touching it. Everything was starting to come to a peak with Sam's unusual behavior and Dean knew it was starting to get out of his hands. Giving his brother one last look, Dean pulled on his jacket, finished his beer and headed out to the Impala.

Later he was walking up the steps to the cabin when his cell phone rang. He pulled it out and flipped it open just as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Dean?" His father's voice almost made Dean laugh. It was bad enough Sam had lost his mind but now his father was undoubtedly calling to ask them why they hadn't made their way out of Montana. Dean had briefly left a message with their father that morning saying that he and Sam were going to take a break for a few days. It had been a relief that their father hadn't actually answered the phone as Dean had no wish to say what he had to the man's face.

He could only imagine saying 'hey dad, we're going to chill for a bit,' and then having the man huffing and puffing about saving mankind. John would snarl and rage and probably say things he didn't mean but in the end, he'd be happy the boys knew where their limits lay.

"Hey dad," Dean sighed.

"Where's Sam?"

"Dad listen I… wait… what?" Dean had started getting his speech ready for why they needed a break and hadn't been expecting his father to ask anything else.

"Where's Sam, Dean?" John repeated. Dean closed the cabin door and flopped down on the couch.

"He's just in the shower, why?" Dean lied. His father may be okay with them taking a vacation but knowing Dean had left him at a bar with some brunette would undoubtedly get Dean lynched.

"Has he said anything to you?" John asked. Dean frowned at the cryptic tone his father was using.

"About what?" he replied.

"About anything Dean, this is really important." Sitting forward Dean looked to one side, it wasn't like his father to sound so worried about something.

"What's going on Dad?" he asked. "You sound spooked."

"I'm not spooked Dean," John said indignantly. "I just got a call from Missouri and I was… concerned for your brother." Dean let out a groan of discontent at his father's lack of specifics. Thankfully his father picked up on this and continued on without more encouragement. "Missouri said the Sprites at the Summers place have been acting strange. The Summers say it started the day we left them but recently it's gotten much worse. Did Sam say anything to you about that night at all? Has he remembered anything?"

"If he did, he hasn't told me," Dean replied. Then he sighed, as long as they were confronting strange happenings he might as well lay it all on the table. "But he's been acting a bit weird too Dad, it's like he's got split personalities or something."

"How so?" John asked.

"Well one moment he's happy and making me giant breakfasts and the next second he's all emo and angry," Dean explained. "I've been trying to get an explanation out of him but every time I ask him what's up he flips."

"Emo?" John asked. Dean would have laughed at the situation not been so serious.

"Emotional charged dad, dark thoughts, depressed," he tried to explain. For a long while Dean heard nothing but his father's breathing over the line. Then he heard a sigh and a grunt followed by the clear sounds of moving.

"Alright, where are you?"

"Shooter's Cottage Resort, in Montana just outside a town called Little Ridge," Dean replied.

"Good, stay there, I'm coming to you and we'll figure this out. If Sam's not going to tell us what's going on we might just have to make him," John sighed. The idea really didn't appeal to Dean but Sam's strange manner had gone on long enough. Answers had to be obtained and it would make it a lot easier for both of them if his father was there. Not that he'd ever admit that.

"How long until you get here?" Dean asked.

"Shouldn't be more then a day."

"You're that close?"

"I can be," John replied. Dean smiled, at least of all the strange things going on over the past few months one good thing had come from it all; John was actually making more of an effort to be a father.

"I'll see you soon then," he replied.

"Bye son." With a click, Dean snapped his phone shut and tucked it back into his pocket. Then he looked at his watch, it wasn't late but he was feeling tired from trying to understand his younger brother. Hopefully in the morning things would be easier to comprehend.

He kicked off his boots and shrugged off his jacket before heading toward his bedroom. A slight thud however caused him to stop short and listen. Another thud and this time Dean was sure it had come from Sam's bedroom.

Instantly Dean pulled a gun from his waist band and slowly, quietly inched into his brother's room. Taking a deep breath, he settled his nerves then kicked open the door and pounced inside ready to shoot.

… But there was nothing and no one there. The window was closed and locked and there wasn't a thing out of place. Dean even walked toward the closet and checked it out. Still he found nothing. He was seconds away from being convinced he was crazy when suddenly something bumped into his leg causing him to jump back in shock.

Looking down Dean was startled to find the box from under Sam's bed. The weird thing was, he could have sworn it hadn't been there when he'd first entered the room. Still, it provided him with the necessary push to see what it was Sam was hiding. If they were pictures and things of Jess, Dean would be relieved. Betraying Sam's trust was a small price to pay at the moment if it would help Dean gain some insight on his brother's condition.

"Please don't be a pet rat," Dean sighed. He reached down to pick up the box but was once again startled when the box slid away from him slightly.

"What the hell?" Dean asked. Pictures and inanimate objects didn't slid around. Before the box could slid any farther away from Dean he snatched it up and pressed his ear to it. After a second he could hear tired heavy breathing of a small animal or something. Dean pulled his head away and looked at the box, as his father's phone call came back to him.

The revelation hit him like a semi truck to the Impala.

"Oh no," Dean said as it started making sense. Sitting down on the bed Dean gently lifted off the lid of the box, gasped and nearly dropped it in surprise.

"Bryson?" he exclaimed.

Inside, ankles, wrists, mouth and wings taped up was a very pale, thin looking Sprite. For a moment Dean almost didn't recognize Bryson as the little guy was very sickly and his chest heaved like he was struggling just to stay conscious.

"Hold on dude, I'll get you out," Dean said. Bryson tensed slightly as Dean reached in for him but clearly had no energy to fight.

When Dean first met the Sprite, all those months ago, he hadn't really liked him. Bryson was a smart ass and seemed like all he wanted to do was party and cause trouble. However then Bryson had risked his life and saved Dean and Sam. It had definitely changed Dean's opinion of the Sprite and had actually caused Dean to miss the guy when they'd left…

…Apparently he wasn't the only one.

Very gently and with care toward the Sprite's fragile looking wings, Dean removed all the tape and lay the small guy in his hand.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"No I'm not alright!" Bryson wailed. "What the hell kind of question is that, you jackass?" Tiny tears streamed from his eyes as he furiously rubbed at them trying to maintain his emotions.

"How did you get here Bryson?" Dean asked. Bryson glared up at him but his condition just couldn't allow for the Sprite to look anything but pathetic.

"Sam grabbed me the day you left my home," Bryson spat. "He knocked me out and taped me up!" Dean was shocked to say the least, he couldn't believe Sam would do any such thing. Still the proof was in front of him and Sam had lied to him about what was in the box.

"Are you sure it was him?" Dean asked. Though he didn't sound nearly as convinced in his question as he'd liked.

"What? Did you think I tied myself up? That I wanted to live in a box away from my home for the passed three months? Yes Dean, yes that's EXACLTY what I planned to do with my life!" Bryson hissed. A small amount of Sprite dust came from Bryson but not nearly as much as the last time Dean had seen him this upset. Clearly the little Sprite was in bad health and needed help.

"Okay, okay, easy," Dean said. "Come on let's get you cleaned up and fed." He went to stand but Bryson clutched his sleeve causing him to look down again. The tears were gone but the look of absolute fear remained.

"Dean please," Bryson said. "You have to protect me. I can't… I just can't give him anymore." Dean instantly raised an eyebrow as he regarded the Sprite's haggard appearance.

"Give him anymore what?" he asked. "What's he been taking from you?"

"My dust," Bryson sniffed. His little eyes were starting to fill with tears once again which broke Dean's heart. Far be it from him to get all mushy over something so girlie but he just couldn't help but feel sorry for Bryson. If it was true that the Sprite had been forced to live in a box for the passed three months in such a horrible condition, Dean would be no better then the monsters he hunted if he felt nothing.

"Why would he need your dust?" Dean asked. Bryson shook his head.

"I can't… I can't say Dean… I, I'm afraid," he replied. Then he looked back up at Dean with wide eyes. "I'm afraid he'll kill me," he added.

"Bryson," Dean said immediately. "Sam's not capable of doing something like that but…" he hesitated, how could he deny what he was now seeing? Sam couldn't possibly be that cruel and there's no way Dean had lived with a shape shifter this long. Sam was just going through a rough time and there had to be a good explanation, still… "You're with me now buddy, I'll protect you no matter what. Don't worry we'll get you home again." Bryson looked only slightly comforted by Dean's words which only served to make the Winchester feel even worse.

"I'm so tired," Bryson sighed. He leaned back on Dean's hand and closed his eyes with a pained sigh. Dean gently nudged the little Sprite's shoulder trying to think of a way to make up for the horrors he'd suffered through recently.

"Hey," he said. "I've got chocolate ice cream in the freezer. What's say you take a warm bath in the sink then go to town on it?" Thankfully Bryson's cheeks pinked up slightly and he looked a little more awake.

"Ice cream? Really?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Dean nodded as he carried the Sprite into the bathroom and started filling the sink. "A box twice the size of you and it's all yours, anything else you want?" Now Bryson started looking like being trapped had meant nothing at all to him.

"Chips? Oh, oh and dude I have been jonesin' for a beer, got any?" he asked. Dean laughed and shook his head with amusement.

"What kind of guy would I be if I didn't?" he replied. He turned off the tap as the sink was filled up to the right height. "You take it easy and I'll be back."

"Dean?" Bryson asked. His small, fearful voice had returned and Dean looked at him curiously. "Sam… he… he's not here is he?" he asked quietly. Dean frowned, bothered that his brother could instill so much fear in such an innocent Sprite.

"Probably wont be back until morning," Dean replied. "Don't worry Bryson, you're safe with me and tomorrow we'll get some answers."

"No ones safe," Bryson mumbled as he gingerly slipped off his shirt. Dean let the comment go not knowing what else to say. He headed out the door but not before taking note of the hand shaped bruise over a large portion of the little Sprites body. Sam definitely had some explaining to do now. This time Dean was NOT going to let it go.

The next morning Dean woke up to a heavy feeling on his chest. He opened one eye and saw what was causing the sensation. Bryson lay curled up under the small cloth Dean had given him the night before as a blanket. The Sprite was looking considerably better now as he remained fast asleep, rising and falling with each of Dean's breaths.

The night before Dean had set up a pillow on the dresser for Bryson to sleep on but it appeared the small Sprite had moved sometime during the night. A smile crept across Dean's face as he watched the sleeping creature. Far be it from him to like the little dude sleeping on him but maybe, just maybe… it wasn't so bad.

"Oh... god... How much beer did I drink last night?" Dean laughed as Bryson sat up on his chest, rubbing his head and groaning. The Sprite's hair was messily in every which direction, much like Sam's always was when he woke up.

"You had half a bottle," Dean replied. Bryson seemed to finally comprehend just where it was he had taken up residence. With a blush of embarrassment Bryson hopped off Dean to the bed beside him.

"More then I've had in a while," he said clearing his throat. "But man did that feel good… thanks Dean. I'm glad not all humans are bad." All at once, the mood had gone completely somber again and Dean sighed.

"Sam's not bad, Bryson," he tried. "He's just having some problems right now."

"Yeah, turning into a monster will do that do you," Bryson spat. Dean was just about to ask what exactly the Sprite meant by that when suddenly he heard the cabin door open. It almost startled Dean when Bryson suddenly went rigid, let of a small pathetic poof of dust and dived for cover under the bed sheets. "Please," he squeaked. "Please don't let him find me!"

"Just stay here," Dean ordered. However he knew Bryson had no intention of leaving his hideout anytime soon. Before Dean left the room, he hesitated and looked at his gun on the bedside table, with a heavy heart, he picked it up and tucked it in his waist band.

In the main room Sam was just shrugging off his jacket and putting down his keys when Dean approached.

"Big party last night?" Dean asked. Sam looked up at him and the fatigue was evident.

"I slept with a woman I barely know," he replied. Dean raised an eyebrow, not really sure if that was a good or bad thing in Sam's eyes. The way it had been said just sounded so… confused.

"Okay," Dean replied. "Look Sam I…" Sam turned away from Dean and headed toward the large bay window of the cabin.

"I slept with a woman I barely know and she was married," he said. Dean winced.

"Ouch," he replied. "How did you find out?" Sam turned his head just slightly.

"Her husband came at me with a French knife early this morning," he answered. "Barely made it out of there with my clothes. Hitch hiked back out here."

"You did WHAT? Sam why didn't you just call me?" Dean asked. Once again Sam turned to face him and the tension in the air started to crackle with intensity.

"I don't know," he replied. "I didn't do anything wrong and hitchhiking didn't seem… like a bad idea." Dean nearly snapped straight down the middle. If anything Sam should have been creped out from hitchhiking after the whole Meg thing.

"You and I have a different idea of right and wrong then Sammy," Dean replied.

"No we don't," Sam said. "I… really don't understand why I'm okay with what I did last night and this morning." Now Dean's anger was starting to fade away while his concern was growing. Sam really did seem genuinely confused at what he had done.

"Sammy I need to ask you something," Dean sighed. Sam however shook his head.

"Let me get some sleep first," he replied. "I just need some sleep." Before Dean could stop him, Sam had crossed the floor and was into his bedroom. Dean braced himself for what he knew was coming. The night before, he hadn't bothered to re-stash the box, knowing Sam would eventually open it and find his prize missing.

"What did you do?" Never before had Sam's voice sounded so accusatory and angry. Nor had his face contorted with such anger as it was now.

Sam came out of the bedroom with the empty box in his hand and all the furies of hell on his face.

"Sam look…"

"WHERE IS HE?" Sam bellowed. Dean was shocked and very, very confused.

"Sam what the hell has gotten into you? Why the hell would you kidnap Bryson?" he shot back. Oddly Sam started laughing as he lowered his head. But it wasn't a gentle laugh, it was one that actually but fear into Dean as it rattled through his core.

"You shouldn't have let him out Dean," Sam hissed menacingly. "You have no idea what you've done."

"I'm protecting a friend and trying to protect my brother," Dean shot back. So many thoughts and emotions were running through the room and Dean's head. Everything came to a grinding halt however when Sam looked up again.

No defense in the world could have prepared Dean for that moment. He sucked in a deep breath and took a large step back from his little brother. Or at least… it had been his brother.

Red eyes with yellow were narrowed in on him and as Sam started to approach, his skin began to develop a golden tinge while his hair lost all colour.

"S, Sam?" Dean chocked. His heart was pounding in his chest as the being before him came closer and closer. It also seemed as though something was gluing Dean to the spot. And the closer Sam got the more Dean realized, it was nothing more then his own petrifaction that kept him there. No unseen force as he's originally expected. Dean now knew Bryson's fear and felt even worse for the little creature.

"I'm sorry Dean, I can't stop this," Sam said suddenly. Though his eyes still looked angry, his voice sounded genuinely apologetic. Dean had no words as his brother wrapped his hands around his throat and started squeezing. "I don't know what I'm doing Dean, shouldn't you be stopping me?" Sam asked.

Dean tried to nod but Sam's grip only strengthened. The red eyes held so much anger but the facial expression and voice sounded so lost and confused. He wasn't the only one, Dean had no idea what was going on and he'd die without so much as a clue.

"S, s.." just getting out the S was a struggle for Dean as he crumpled to his knees. Sam's strength had increased ten fold it seemed and no matter how much Dean wanted to, he couldn't fight back.

"Goodbye Dean," Sam whispered. Tears started dripping from his possessed demonic eyes even though they remained angry and focused. "And see you in hell!" he snarled. Dean panicked and when a Winchester panicked, they usually pulled a 'Hail Mary,' anything that would allow them to survive.

Now was no different, Dean reacted, his hands searched to his waist band where his gun thankfully remained. With lightening quickness Dean brought the thing around in a swooping motion and connected it with the side of Sam's head. Sam released Dean but recovered quickly and soon the two of them were struggling for the weapon.

"Dean stop me!" Sam yelled.

"Christ Sammy I'm trying!" Dean exclaimed back.

Suddenly there was a loud bang of a weapon discharging. Both brothers froze and looked at each other in surprise. After a few seconds, Sam smiled he opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a thin stream of blood. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder then crumpled to the ground.

Dean looked at the gun in his hand and didn't know what to do nor how to feel.

"Sammy," he whispered. "I, I… I'm so sorry."

"Not yet you aren't, but you will be!" Dean never stood a chance, the gun was ripped from his hands as Sam, with speed not of a human body, was up on his feet again. Dean stared at him incredulously but it was only for a second as the gun once again was discharged.

The stare of disbelief remained but the life hadn't. Dean's body fell to the floor with a neat little hole right between his eyes. Sam looked down at the body then to the gun in his hand. He shrugged, tossed the gun and looked around the room.

"This is what happens Bryson," Sam called. "Show yourself or suffer the same fate." After hearing a small shuffling noise Sam moved toward Dean's bedroom and slowly opened the door.

He had barely cleared the threshold when he was suddenly assaulted with a wave of sparkling dust. Sam choked and gasped and soon felt himself growing weak. He fell to his knees and looked up, Bryson was staring down at him in fear, anger and loathing.

"That should knock you out for a while," Bryson hissed. Sam reached up for the creature but had no strength left. Instead as the calming sensation washed over him he fell asleep with one thought of his crushing reality…

… he had just murdered his big brother.

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TBC…

Dun dun duuuuuuuh! Mwa ha ha ha! Oh I am evil! RIP Dean, you poor soul you…

Kay, preview for next chap;

… John Winchester had been hunting since his sweet Mary had died. He'd faced evil, he'd faced dangerous humans, he'd face non-believers and he'd faced times when he believed his death was eminent. But nothing, nothing prepared him for this.

"No," John said. His mind was simply blocking out the reality of his situation as well as the word from the Sprite's mouth.

"Yes," Bryson replied. "A last resort of course."

"No," John said again this time much firmer. He stood up and pulled the branding iron from the fire. Then slowly he pushed open the bedroom door to his youngest son's room.

Sam's eyes grew wide as he laid eyes on the thing in his father's hand as he furiously started to struggle against his binds.

"Dad, no! No!" he wailed. "Please, god, no!"

"This is for Dean, son," John replied. Sam's eyes filled with tears and he stopped struggling. John approached the bed and lifted his sons shirt, this would hurt them both.

Man… I'm starting to worry myself. What the hell is going on with the Winchesters? Well… read and find out! And review please! Thankyou! PS. special shout out to "Servant of SHEVAL" for her complete awesomenessnessness!