Although it was daytime, the blizzard outside had blocked out a lot of natural light so Earl turned on a couple of lamps and then banked up the fire. He would have to get more logs soon, but first a coffee. He quietly passed the sleeping Dean, who had curled into an almost foetal ball, and went to the kitchen. He didn't bother making a fresh pot; just put the one that was still half full from earlier, back on the stove top. He was hungry. He wasn't used to going without a lunch of some sort being available. Kelly was usually great at feeding him, but these two strangers had completely wrecked their routine. Yet, the pitiful state they'd found Sam in, and the fierce devotion displayed by his brother, meant he couldn't find it within himself to resent the brothers – even if his stomach rumbled rebelliously now and then.

Naturally suspicious, but also naturally protective, Earl wondered what they would do about Sam's broken ankle if the white-out went on for several days, as often happened around here.

***

Upstairs, Sam woke to searing pain in his legs and as he writhed around, he felt another, much sharper pain, in his left ankle. He needed to get the blankets off of him and started tugging at them. Then someone's cool hand was on his forehead and a woman's voice was telling him everything was okay and that he was safe. But she didn't understand. His legs were burning! As fast as he pushed the blankets away, she was pulling them over him again.

"No! Don't!"

"Sam, your leg is broken and it's in a splint -you have to stop moving around."

"No, please stop!" Sam was shouting in frustration. Why couldn't this woman understand?

Kelly had no idea what Sam was talking about but he seemed desperate to get the blankets off his legs.

"Sam, what's wrong?"

"They're burning!"

Kelly's curiosity had her pushing up the right leg of his jeans – and finally she understood. His leg was blistered, peeling and bleeding in places and the skin was an angry crimson all the way up his shin, though oddly, only at the front. Carefully checking his other leg, she saw it was the same. How had she missed this before? No wonder the poor guy was writhing around – he must be in agony. She quickly left to get a pair of scissors – there was no way she would be able to get the jeans off with Sam in his current state. She called down to Earl, as quietly as she could, to ask for help.

Between them they managed to cut Sam's jeans off up to thigh level. At least the burns didn't extend all the way up his legs. Sam hadn't stopped trying to get out of the bed and muttering about escaping.

"Earl, can you hold him still while I put some salve on his legs?"

Earl had no trouble pinning Sam's legs to the mattress.

In Sam's world, the torment went on. He was somewhere else – it felt different, but he was being held down and Jarveld was raking his ravaged legs with those merciless talons.

Sam's eyes were squeezed shut but tears came unbidden and trickled down the side of his face, the salt stinging as it worked its way into the assorted scrapes and scratches covering his face and scalp.

Kelly couldn't even imagine what this poor guy had been through and felt immensely sorry for him. She dabbed at his face very gently with a damp cloth, trying not to open up the many small wounds.

"Sam, can you hear me? You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you."

She continued to speak quietly to him and eventually he seemed to settle a little. Earl let go of him and, at Kelly's request, went to wake up Dean. He would want to be here and might be able to reach Sam better than she could. She turned back to Sam and spoke very quietly to him.

"Sam, your brother is here – he's been really worried about you."

Sam wondered what this new torture was about. Dean was dead. Everyone was dead. Why couldn't they just leave him alone?

***

As he hobbled up the stairs, Dean didn't know who he was more angry with - himself for falling asleep or Kelly for letting him.

He ignored Kelly as he entered the room – eyes fixed on his brother.

"Sam, you're awake! Man is it good to see you!" He grasped Sam's arm as he sat on the bed beside him.

Sam couldn't believe it. He didn't believe it in fact. This was just a new level of torment.

"You're not my brother!" He yanked his arm away and tried to edge himself as far away from the apparition as he could, turning his head to the way and away from Dean.

Dean was horrified. He reached across, ignoring the pain in his side, and touched Sam on the shoulder.

"Come on Sammy, it's me - you know it's me!" Sam jerked away from Dean's hand.

"Get away from me. My brother is dead." His voice broke as he began sobbing.

Dean stared at Sam's heaving back.

"God Sammy, what did that bastard do to you?" He went around to the other side of the bed and grasped both of Sam's wrists. Sam had his eyes tight shut, tears flowing freely now.

"Sam look at me – it really is me! The demon lied to you – come on, you know they lie!

Earl touched Kelly's elbow to get her attention.

"Let's leave them alone for a bit – I'll make us some coffee." She didn't argue and they left quietly.

Sam pushed his face into the pillow as far as he could. He didn't want to look at this thing pretending to be Dean.

"He killed you himself and watched you die." Sam's voice was muffled by the pillow.

"No Sammy, the bastard stabbed me but he didn't kill me – look – I'm all bandaged up – come on - open your eyes."

A glimmer of hope sparked in Sam, and he tentatively opened the eye that wasn't wedged into the pillow. The thing that was pretending to be Dean was holding up its shirt and showing him a white bandage on its back. Could it really be Dean? Was it possible Jarveld had lied and his brother was alive? Almost fearfully, he reached out and pressed his fingers to the bandage.

"Aah! Sam take it easy, it's kinda sore you know!"

"Dean?" Sam said it very quietly, and then held his breath.

"It is indeed the better looking Winchester brother!" Dean grinned a mile-wide smile at Sam.

"You're back! I thought I'd lost you there for a while Sammy!" He started to ruffle a hand through Sam's hair but stopped immediately when Sam flinched.

"Sorry man. How did you get all those cuts on your head anyway?" He paused.

"Actually, you don't have to tell me."

Sam was still trying to process the fact that his brother was alive. Maybe he was dreaming? Except there was nothing dream-like about the pain he was in.

"I don't know. One minute I was in the barn, looking for you - the next I was tied up somewhere with all these cuts and scratches on me. Bit my tongue too." He gazed up at Dean with such a mournful expression on his face that Dean wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

"Aw, quit whining! Considering how it could have gone, you should count yourself lucky. Oh, and by the way, now that I know you're okay, I get to kill you for coming looking for me!" Dean was trying to frown, but it didn't work. He was just too happy to have Sam back to be properly cross with him. The yelling would have to wait until he could work up an appropriate level of anger.

"Dean, I had a vision - with you bleeding to death. What was I supposed to do – ignore it?"

"I guess not." Dean shifted uncomfortably. He wasn't sure it was the right time to be asking but he wanted to know.

"Speaking of visions Sam…"

"Yeah, what about them?" Sam looked slightly puzzled – and sleepy.

Dean searched his brother's face. He didn't seem at all concerned at being asked about his visions. Maybe…… "Sam - did you give them up?"

"Huh?" The lines on Sam's forehead deepened into the series of inverted "U"s they always made whenever he was completely concentrating or had no idea what was going on. Dean nearly laughed at the familiar expression.

"Dean, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't you know what that demon was?"

"No, he said his name was Jarveld…."

"It was an acqu…. Accuis… it was a type of greed demon Sam. It wanted your ability."

"Really? An acquisitive demon?"

"Yeah, one of those. I see a bitten tongue doesn't stop you talking like a total geek."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Sam was curious.

"How would it have taken my visions?"

"It couldn't just take them. You would have had to give them up. I take it you didn't then?"

"No. He never told me that was what he wanted. Just kept telling me things about Dad and you and me. Stuff only we would know. Could it have been reading my mind do you think?"

"Maybe. Who knows, it might have taken someone's ability to read minds. They'll take anything they can get I guess. So, would you have?" Dean was intrigued to know.

"Would I have what? Given him my visions?"

"Yeah."

"Well the visions hurt like hell and they only seem to cause trouble for us…" Sam trailed off. It was an interesting question. Jarveld had been right; he could have gone back to an ordinary life without the visions… couldn't he? With his ability gone, his destiny would surely have changed? The idea was a tempting one. But then again, he would still have known about the evil out there – could he really have gone back to college and forgotten about it?

"I don't know Dean, but I guess it doesn't matter now anyway." He avoided eye contact with Dean, who was staring at him intently. Dean wasn't sure how he felt about it either. The visions didn't seem to do either of them any good and he didn't enjoy seeing Sam doubled up in pain. But somehow it seemed like it would have been wrong to give them up to a demon. So maybe it was for the best.

"Anyway, how are you feeling Sammy?"

"Oh, you know, like I've been tortured by a demon. Apart from that, I'm just fine and dandy."

"Hey, I was just asking! No need for the attitude. Carry on like that and I won't get you some kick-ass painkillers that Kelly has."

"Kelly being the woman who was in here before?"

"Yep, and the huge guy's name is Earl – he shot the demon and they both carried you back here."

"Guess I owe them some serious thanks then. So you just sat eating popcorn and watched from the sidelines then?" Sam started to grin but stopped abruptly when it opened up some cuts on his face. "Ow!"

"Serves you right you ungrateful bastard! I happen to have a stab wound here you know. I had to go out there on crutches to save your sorry ass!"

Kelly came in then carrying pills and a glass of water.

"Well it's easy to see you two are brothers!" She went straight to Sam.

"Hi Sam, I'm Kelly. It's nice to see you awake."

"Hi Kelly. I gather I owe you and Earl a pretty big thank you." He looked up at her with soft, soulful eyes and she melted on the spot.

"Oh well, you're welcome Sam. Looks like you're going to be a much better patient than your brother!" Dean shot a hurt glance across at her but she laughed and ignored him.

"Now I bet you could use a couple of these." She passed Sam two of the pills she had brought with her, along with the water. She held out the remaining pills across the bed to Dean, who took them and swallowed them dry.

"Thanks – you read my mind!" Sam's head snapped up at that.

"Not literally of course." Dean added quickly. "Chill dude! It's just a figure of speech."

"Great timing there Dean" Sam muttered. Dean smirked.

"Yeah, not the first time I've been told that!" However, he immediately wished the ground would swallow him whole as he caught Kelly's expression – she was blushing fiercely. She busied herself with Sam's pillows, studiously avoiding Dean.

"Sam, are you warm enough? I'm sure we can rig up some sort of frame around your legs and put a blanket over you that way?"

"Oh, no there's no need, I'm fine Kelly."

"Actually, you're not fine. You need a cast on that leg Sam, but I don't know when we're going to be able to get you to a hospital."

Dean was instantly concerned. "Is this going to be a real problem?"

"I hope not. The only thing I can do is tighten up that splint to keep the bones from moving as much as possible but it's only a temporary measure. If the bones start to knit back together without being properly realigned he could end up with a permanent limp."

Sam looked from Dean to Kelly as they discussed his leg across the bed.

"I'm right here people – could you quit talking about me like I'm not even in the room please?"

"Sorry Sam. Are you up for re-doing that splint once the painkillers kick in – they might just take the edge off?"

Sam was far from thrilled with the notion. "I guess so – it's gonna hurt huh?"

"I'm afraid so. I'll have to get Earl to hold you down and you might want to bite down on something. With any luck you'll pass out."

"Terrific! I'm really looking forward to it now."

"Sorry Sam, it doesn't look like there's much choice kiddo."

"Guess not – better just get on with it." Sam gave his brother a half-hearted smile.