A/N: I'm considering renaming this story The Fic of Everlasting Info Dumpage. ;)

Time for the boys to kill time until its dark and they can kill other things. I swear there will be action soon. I mean, there's gotta be, right?

Sweet Caroline, Chapter 7

The on-campus café wasn't his first choice for dining, but the food wasn't half bad and neither were some of the female patrons. Dean winked at a girl passing by his table before stuffing the last three fries on his plate into his mouth, appetite quelled for the time being. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the standing cooler filled with sandwiches ready to go, picking out a turkey club and chocolate soy milk for Sam. Food wasn't allowed in the library, but Dean knew his kid brother had to be hungry, or had to eat anyway. If Mohammed wouldn't come to the mountain, then he'd bring the mountain to Mohammed. Nothing good could come from going into a fight without energy. He tossed in a brownie for himself, paying the cashier and strolling out.

The library was only steps from the student center. He crossed the ten feet of sidewalk between buildings, at the library door when someone bumped into him. Dean waved the guy off, but then recognized the person. Will Pendelton gazed up at him, paling white as a sheet before backing away quickly and almost tripping over his feet. Dean didn't even get to say hi. Pleased by the lasting effect of his intimidation techniques, Dean turned back to the library and went in search of Sam.

He found out that the records Sam would need had been archived online, and WiFi was available throughout the whole building. The library wasn't huge, so a quick search found Sam tucked in a corner on the third floor, at a round table and on his computer. More interestingly, he wasn't alone. Libraries were the new bars, apparently. Smiling, Dean approached in stealth mode, edging behind a shelf of books. He hoped to eavesdrop on his little brother and the tall drink of water Sam had befriended at the wake. He couldn't remember her name. Abby?

"So, who are you really? Don't tell me you're a student," were the first words Dean was able to make out. Uh oh. "I know you're not."

"Iris…"

Iris, that was her name.

"How much of what you told me was a lie?"

"Nuh…I…You don't understand," Sam said.

"I understand, you jerk. What kind of creep preys on people at a memorial service? It's sick. It's wrong."

The girl sounded borderline hysterical, and it was past time for Dean to step to Sam's aid. Much as a college angst-fest could be entertaining, for some reason Sam really seemed to care about this girl. This particular college angst-fest, therefore, was not so entertaining. He stepped out into the open, seeing both Sam's and the girl's faces for the first time. Both looked alarmed, red blotches coloring their cheeks. Christ almighty, Sam had really never outgrown that stage.

"Hey," Dean said, "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh," the girl said, whirling toward him. She was his height. Impressive. "The brother. If you really are his brother."

"You betcha I am, sweetheart. Dean. Nice to meet you." Dean made a show of looking at nearby students. "What do you say we keep this quiet? Calm down a little."

"I will not…"

"Iris, please," Sam said. Surprisingly, Iris trailed off, but she still looked ready to lose it. "Please tell me why you're saying these things. Please tell me why you're so upset."

"Like you don't know," Iris said, voice shaky. "Go to . It's all over campus."

Okay, what? While Sam entered the web address, Dean circled around Iris with his hands up in a show of peace, until he stood behind his brother. The website popped up, all cheesy graphics and music. Dead center on the screen was a video box. Sam clicked play. Dean groaned to himself. He recognized it immediately. It was their footage from last night, framed with cheesy text about ghost hunting. He recalled the look on Will's face only minutes ago, at having run into him.

"That little sonuvabitch," Dean growled.

"Guess he didn't take your threat seriously," Sam murmured to him.

"He will after I get through with him."

"He must have gone back out there and found the camera."

"Maybe he took it while we were all still out there. I left him alone."

"That's your voice, Sam," Iris said, tapping the screen just as the footage became erratic, and Will screamed. "That's what happened to your face. What is going on? I want you to tell me the truth."

"Will you believe anything we say?" Dean asked. He pulled a chair out, gesturing for Iris to sit.

"I don't know. Probably not." She eyed him nervously, before looking over at Sam. Something flickered across her features, going from angry to confused or sad or something indefinable. Iris sat down at the edge of the chair, still looking at Sam with that lost expression. "Maybe."

That figured. Even exposed as a lying liar, Sam could work the puppy dog eyes like nobody's business. His brother looked at him with those same puppy eyes before leaning closer to Iris. Dean felt like a third wheel all of a sudden, and he shifted back to his eavesdropping position behind the shelves. He could still hear everything if he wanted to, but he didn't have to make an awkward situation even more uncomfortable by standing there watching it happen. He heard Sam speaking and Iris' disbelief, but he didn't listen to the words. Sam knew what to do.

He didn't like it, but the sooner Sam realized the impossibility of making real connections with people the better off he'd be. By all rights, Sam should have learned that long ago. All they ever needed was each other. Him and Sam and Dad. There didn't have to be anyone else if they could just stick together. Not for the first time, he wondered why he was the only one to see the magnitude of that.

A sharp "you must be crazy" drifted over to him, pulling him back to the here and now, and he winced. Yeah, the truth was rarely well received. He knew that from firsthand experience. He stepped out from his non-hiding place in time to see Iris leaving, and Sam gazing after her with his face twisted up. Dean didn't say anything for a minute, sitting down in the chair Iris had vacated. Sam eventually pulled his expression back to one of carefully controlled sadness. Dean clenched his jaw.

"That was…awkward," he said, going for lightness in a weak attempt to make Sam feel better.

"Dean." Sam sounded old, tired. It broke Dean's heart, it really did. "She needs time to…never mind. Let's just concentrate on stopping this thing."

He assessed his brother for another second. Dean didn't blame the guy for feeling miserable. It sucked to be treated like a crazy person. Sam had to get his head in the game and seemed to be on that track anyway, so Dean would be here to make sure he stayed on it. He pulled the sandwich and soy milk from his jacket pocket, handing them to his brother.

"Here," he said. "You can focus while you eat."

For a second, Sam looked ready to protest. Then he just nodded and said, "Thanks."

Sam tore open the cellophane wrapper, careful not to make too much noise. Dean watched to make sure his brother was actually going to eat. When Sam had half the sandwich gone, Dean glanced at the computer. It was still cued up to the stupid website.

"If you're okay sticking with the research, I think I need to go do some damage control," he said, tapping the laptop screen. "I ran into that little jerk when I was coming over here. He took off like a shot. No wonder."

"What an idiot," Sam said with his mouth half full. "Dean, this could turn into a circus really, really fast."

"I know." Before they'd be able to put a lid on the streaming video, there'd probably be night vigils planned for out at the cemetery. The confrontation with Sam's friend was plenty of evidence the circus had already started. "Call me if you find anything that can't wait for me to get back."

As Dean stepped from the library, it occurred to him he had no idea where to find Will freaking Pendelton at the moment. The way the kid had run off, he might be in Clontarf by now. Dean snickered at the returning thought of Clontarf, a momentary distraction before he got back to business. Though the campus was small, it wasn't so small he could canvass it efficiently by himself. He couldn't forget the name of the residence hall Will lived in, so he figured his best bet was to stake out the guy's room and wait for him there. He wished he had a gun, because apparently he needed a refresher course in intimidation and Will needed a refresher course in making prudent choices.

He had no problem getting to Gay Hall. Once inside, though, Dean thought he'd never get out of the endless loop of asking stupid kids where to go or if they'd heard of his intended victim. After being misdirected no fewer than three times, Dean finally stood in front of Will's door. Will and Thad's door, technically. He hadn't considered a roommate. He knocked and got no answer. With glances up and down the hallway followed by a quick jimmy, he was in the room. He wrinkled his nose. Even for him the place was a pit. He tried to imagine Sam in such an environment and couldn't.

Dean stood there for a moment, taking in the piles of dirty laundry, a hot plate with something nasty burned onto the coils and fifteen different types of cologne bottles on one of the dressers. No, he definitely couldn't see Sam in a place like this. His and Jess' apartment was more Sam's style. Dean winced, shaking himself out of that line of thought. He pondered a second, unable to decide if he should hide himself for a surprise attack or sit on one of the beds. There was a rattle of keys at the door, so he ducked behind it, his dilemma solved by necessity. The wait hadn't been as long. He kicked the door shut and grabbed the kid.

Except it wasn't Will. The roommate, Thad, shrieked and fairly well hit the ceiling. Which was damned amusing, because the guy was the size of a linebacker. Dean bit back the urge to laugh, making himself look menacing yet non-threatening at the same time. The whole I'm not going to hurt you but I could look that never seemed to work as well as he hoped. He caught his reflection in a mirror and realized why. The only thing translating on his face was the but I could, and in turning back to Thad, Dean saw the kid was a second away from tackling him. Despite the guy's size, it wasn't hard to subdue him. Ten seconds of scuffling later, and Dean sat perched on Thad's back, in the middle of the room.

"I need you to do me a favor, Thad. It is Thad, right? Interesting name," he said. Thad whimpered. Dean took that as a yes. "I need you to call your roommate and tell him you've got something for him in your room. Can you do that for me?"

"You're one of the crazy dudes," Thad gasped, voice high-pitched with tension. "Are you going to shoot me?"

"Jesus. No." Okay, so maybe the gun threat had been ill advised. He had to admire Will a little bit for going ahead with publishing the footage, knowing Dean had guns. Multiple guns. "This isn't about you, kid. I just need to talk to Will about something."

"Are you going to shoot him?"

"I'm not going to shoot anyone." Though the urge was growing stronger by the second. "I don't even have a weapon on me."

That wasn't entirely true. He had a blade strapped to his right calf. But apparently his assurance wasn't much of a comfort to Thad, who started wriggling underneath him. Dean sighed. Nothing was ever easy. He grabbed a handful of hair, pulled Thad's head back and leaned in close to the kid's ear. The struggling stopped, but Dean could feel how tense Thad's muscles remained.

"Look, I'm not here to hurt you. I'm not here to hurt Will, though I have to admit I think he deserves it. Now, I'll let you up if you promise not to scream, fight or try to make a run for it," Dean said. "Can you do that?"

"Sure, man," Thad said instantly, relaxing. "You got it. No problem."

The second Dean eased off the kid's back, Thad scrambled for the door. Dean had expected nothing less, of course, and once again subdued the kid. Instead of sitting on him, this time Dean grabbed a tie off the door handle (undoubtedly a signal to not enter), and bound Thad's hands with it, attaching the end to the bedpost. Collapsing on the bed tiredly because the kid had put up more of a fight this time, Dean saw Thad staring up at him bug-eyed, obviously scared stiff. Dean regretted that, he really did, but sometimes the ends justified the means.

"It didn't have to be this way," Dean said, figuring he might as well stick to the bad guy routine for the moment.

He wondered how he was going to keep this from escalating. If Thad or Will reported him, he and Sam wouldn't exactly fly under the radar. And the last thing he needed was posthumous kidnapping charges. Thad didn't even know he was being held hostage by a dead man. Heh. It was kind of funny.

"I asked you politely not to run."

"You're a psycho. Why wouldn't I run?" Thad grouched. Like Will, like roommate with the smart mouth.

"The way I see it, there are two choices. One, you be a good boy and get little Willy back here. Two, you don't and I sit around with you waiting for him to come back, no matter how long it takes," Dean said, picking up one of the many dirty socks piled on the floor. "With this stuffed in your mouth. I like option one. What do you think?"

Fifteen minutes of idle chit chat with Thad later, and Dean was starting to think Will would never show up. All things considered, Thad turned out to be a pretty all right kid once he relaxed as much as a person being held hostage could. He gave pointers on how to score with women, while Thad explained to him why physics was everything. Dean wasn't sure he bought it, but he made mental notes to field test some of the laws for himself. They were in the middle of a game of garbage can hoops, severe handicap given for the tied-up guy, when the jingle of keys came from the door.

"No, man, it's cool," Thad said when Dean picked up the sock to stuff in his mouth. "I won't yell or anything."

Dean looked for signs of subterfuge and found none. If that wasn't proof the Winchester charm worked on anyone…. Dean ducked behind the door anyway. Will would probably try to bolt the second he saw Thad shackled to the bed. Closer proximity would mean less work for him in the long run. Will stumbled in, bag unshouldered halfway, halting when he saw Thad sitting next to the bed. The door snicked shut. Dean leaned against it with his arms crossed, blocking the only means of escape.

"Thad, what's going on?" Will said.

"Well, if it isn't little Willy," Dean said. "It's so nice to see you again. We have to talk."

Will spun around, his bag of books hitting the floor with a resounding thunk. The look on the guy's face was something Dean would cherish long after he and Sam put Morris, Minnesota far, far behind them.