Sam grappled with consciousness, slowly pulling himself back to a scene that mimicked the one Dean saw upon exiting the bathroom a few hours earlier.

"Bobby. You got it wrong! This can't be it!"

"Dean..."

"No gosh dammit! NO!"

Bobby sighed, the right side of his mouth pulling down in a frown.

"This is not happening. Hear me? You deter Sam at all costs. I don't even want him entertaining the thought!" Dean clawed his fingers through his hair before whirling on Bobby with an accusingly pointed finger.

"He should have a say..."

"NO!... No."

"Dean... I get it. This ain't easy. But him watching you die slowly ain't gonna be any easier..."

"He is not carrying that on his conscious. Period. I..."

"That is just it... there will come a point when you don't have a say... you won't know anything but the pain Dean..." Dean looked defeated. Worse perhaps. The gust had not just been removed from his sail but a vacuum was threatening to pull him into an impossible nightmare. A man crawled from the grave only to be told he must immediately return. An extra kick in the balls being his brother is supposed to kill him in the spirit of saving him. Dean's dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. Line of vision locked on a speck on the flor, his eyes glassy, their shamrock green a bright, stark contrast to the purple and blue bruises littering his face.

"The minute I was awake... The minute I opened my eyes... The first thing that should have been said was that Sammy is having visions that send him into fucking oblivion and they are getting worse. That should have been staple fucking one!" Dean yelled at the greatest capacity his broken ribs and split lips would allow, still focused on the floor.

"Stop yelling…" Now it was Dean coming to his brother's side. After collapsing, Bobby and Dean had managed to move Sam to the bed. Sam's eyes had been ping-ponging under closed lids as his lips trembled. Nothing Dean did woke his brother. After a few minutes of feeling completely useless, Dean figured it was the best opportunity to get answers.

"Hey, how ya feeling?"

"Great. The yelling really helps my pounding headache. Thanks."

"What did you see?" Dean's words were cold, demanding. Like he was speaking to a case victim versus his brother. Sam was staring at him with as much intensity as Dean was dishing out. Sam's eyes darted to Bobby. It was a desperate request for Bobby to not say anything, the pain still raging in his head following the vision, the guilt that lingered, a request for permission, and an ask for strength.

"Nothing. I just tumble around in darkness." Sam saw the disbelief in the crinkles around Dean's eyes.

"Sam. Now is not the time for secrets."

"This ain't a secret Dean!" Dean felt Bobby some steps behind him. The old hunter's gaze burning empathetic holes in his back.

"I'm going out."

"Dean. No!" Dean had already stood from his brother's side and whirled half way to the door before Sam fell out of bed in a fumbling haste to stop him. Dean stopped.

"Dean... Please..." Sam called from the floor. He hadn't yet secured his bearings. Dean's chin fell to his chest. Moments slowly tip-toed by.

"Please."

"Okay... If we are gonna do this. IF I am going to even consider this, it is going to just be another case. Bobby… where is the lore? Can't take the chance something was missed. Sammy, better get up. Your lounging around won't be of any help, you need to spear-head the research. Point me in a direction."

"Okay." Sam swallowed. Dean took a seat at the table once again, his back to Sammy. Sam's eyes closed, he was coaxing himself to stand but the last vision was threatening to ride everything out of his stomach. Did the visions pertain to the case? Of course they did. How could they not. Sam had been in this game long enough. But why? The only theory he had been able to formulated was they served as preparation. Like training... The nausea intensified and Sam had to bit his tongue to fend it off. He looked at his brother. Dean hadn't moved. He was stock still in the seat. Partly because of pain and partly because he was fighting a war of wills about how he should handle the future. Sam could lay out each option Dean was considering but was too exhausted at the moment. So he stood and wobbly made his way over.

It was day 3, only 4 left….