Thanks so much to my beta, msnancydrew. Extra thanks to all you great readers who've been following my little tale.

Sam pushed the books aside, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. He yawned, again, and damn wasn't he tired of being tired. But Dean was right when he said it would probably take a day or two to completely bounce back.

"You ok Sammy?" Dean walked through the cabin, toweling his head dry.

"Yes." Sam didn't mean to sound so terse, Dean had only asked about a million times since they'd woken up that morning. "Sorry."

"It's ok." Dean let one hand linger on Sam's shoulder for a few seconds as he went by. "You still look pretty wiped out. We can wait till tomorrow to leave."

"No, I don't want to be here." Sam put everything he had into the pleading look he turned on his brother, knew it wasn't really needed, pushed away the twinge of guilt he had in using it. "It's not like I can't sleep in the car."

Dean watched him out of the corner of his eye as he dug through his duffel. "Find anything?"

"Yeah, I did actually. It's a demon, I'm pretty sure. I emailed Craven details, I think he feels bad, didn't really know so much, he'd matched the patterns. But he thinks it needed to stop, same as us. I found some herbs, a few plants to use as wards, protections. Some kind of demon, just not the kind we normally have beers with." Sam grinned, eyes sliding to Dean, pleased to see a small smile on his brother's face. He caused far too many lines of worry on Dean's face it seemed. It was much better when he could bring a smile, even a small one to Dean. "I'm starting to think the demon we encountered in Wyoming with Concha and Dante was this. And I really don't think it's an A, but multiples. Not sure if it's a higher level or not. It certainly operates differently. But I don't know, what do we do, travel the country planting stuff? Plant a circle around this town? What if someone mows, or weeds?"

Dean actually snickered at that. "Not too practical, but hey, we could be like supernatural Johnny Appleseeds…start a landscaping company to repel demons and weeds. You should carry some of those plants."

"Cause that's not girly at all." He really had to stop sounding so acid, it wasn't Dean's fault.

"No, Sam, it's smart. If you don't want to, then don't but I sure as hell am. Most this stuff we can get anywhere." Dean had moved through the cabin, was now standing next to him, reading over his shoulder.

Sam chucked softly. "Yeah." He looked up at Dean, "I can't feel it here anymore."

"We'll take a drive around before we go, make sure." Dean sat on the edge of his bed, picking at the t-shirt in his hand. "You want to talk about it Sammy?"

Shaking his head, "No." Who was he kidding? "Yes." He wiped one hand over his face, through his hair. Dean sat, watching him, waiting patiently. "Most of what I know about when I was possessed, you told me. I don't really have so much of a direct memory of it, and have no memory of how it felt. This was, I don't know, violated is the only word I can think of. It showed me things, made me watch what it could do to you." Looking down at his feet, the tops of his boots swam through unshed tears. "I couldn't stop it, or do anything. It hurt." He drew in a shaky breath. "I don't ever want it near me again, but I don't think there is anything to do to stop it. I don't even think I can hide from it. That'll just bring it right back to you, to us. I'm not sure it needs me to find you, I don't know. It's like it got inside me and knew exactly what buttons to push."

"Sam." Dean seemed to be trying to figure out how to form the words he wanted. His eyes made a quick survey of the room before settling on Sam again. "Sammy, we've got a lot to work with. You can sense it, them. I did too when it had…when I saw it. It's visible, and we know what it wants. We already know at least one way to protect ourselves. If we think it's around, we stick together. And Sammy, its not exactly hiding its trail."

Shoving to his feet, pacing to the bathroom sink, Sam splashed some water over his face, filled a cup, drinking, which only marginally alleviated the dryness that was his mouth at the moment. Dean sat, watching Sam's every move. Sitting back down, Sam tried to look at Dean, found it impossible, so looked everywhere but at Dean.

"I…um…" He wiped his hand over his mouth then let it drop between his knees, "Every time…when I close my eyes, even to blink I see that thing come at me. When I was asleep I could feel it around me, where it touched me, how it felt against my skin. It's not going to leave us alone. I don't know exactly what it wants, but it's not going to stop."

"The nightmare?"

Sam rubbed two fingers over his forehead, nodding. His fingers dropped to the table, drawing small, uncertain circles. "Sorry I woke you."

"Do you remember much of it?"

He shook his head, fingertips now doodling invisible sigils on the tabletop. "Just a blackness, feeling it on me, holding me again. I don't like being a demon tracking device."

"I don't like it either, but as long as you can feel these things, think of it as any other weapon, Sam, an advantage, an edge. The charms you and Concha made, they work, it can't possess you. I don't think it can just snatch you in the middle of the night or anything like that or it would have already. And we already know a lot about it, most importantly how to protect ourselves."

Sam couldn't help the grimace from blossoming on his face, or the catch in his voice. "You didn't feel it like I did Dean. It wasn't all over you, in your thoughts. Possession isn't what it wants. At least I don't think so. It's different, operates differently, different motives, ways."

"No, no it wasn't holding me. But if you think I didn't feel fear from it, feel at least some of what you felt, think again. I saw that thing around you, I felt exactly what it wanted, it made sure I did. I'd like to tell you Sammy it'll never touch you again, it'll never hurt you, but I don't think I can. What I can tell you is I'll do everything I know how to do to try and keep it from you. We got sloppy. We know the precautions to take. We know now why it never was able to do anything to us as kids, and why it goes after kids. If it gets near you again Sam, I won't let it have you. I told it you weren't one it could have, and I meant that. And I'll always be here when you have nightmares. But Sammy, this thing has to be stopped."

The spark in Dean's eyes made them vibrant green, and it scared Sam more than this new demon, this boogeyman. It was the obsession he always saw in his father suddenly come to life in his brother. His big brother who Sam mostly thought was impervious to anything of the sort, and could never fail to protect him, or anyone, from anything. "Dean…"

"Sammy, I won't let it have you, never, I won't, not ever. We have a weapon, Sam, each other, I look out for you, and you look out for me. It's the most powerful weapon we have. It feeds off fear, Sam, it doesn't want to kill, it wants to hurt, and I know it hurt you, scared you. It did us both."

Standing, pulling things from the table, dumping his duffel on his bed, Sam began the short process of packing. "Can we just pack up and go?"

"Sure thing Sammy."

The oddly too gentle quality to Dean's voice made Sam lift an eyebrow, watch him for a few seconds before returning to his task. Dean didn't appear to notice. Sam knew exactly what that tone meant, Dean was worried about him, and the situation, had been completely unbalanced and shaken by the previous day's events. The simple fact Sam had spent a good portion of the night sleeping on one side of Dean's bed, while Dean sat a foot away on the other side, awake and supposedly watching TV and reading files proved it. If he pressed Sam would probably discover Dean was waiting in case Sam had a nightmare. Some days Dean's over protectiveness wasn't even thinly veiled, today was one of the days Sam didn't mind at all.

They wanted to check the school again, but had to wait until the building was empty. Even with no plans to go in, lurking around a school full of children was just asking for trouble. Deciding to spend the day driving around, Sam reassured Dean repeatedly he felt nothing of the boogeyman-demon. None of the overwhelming fear he'd experienced when they'd first arrived was present now. They stopped to eat; Sam did so mainly because Dean told him to, he wasn't so hungry and suspected he wouldn't have much appetite until they were well a way from this town.

Finally it was late enough in the day to recheck the school. Parking a few blocks away Dean coaxed Sam out of the car, somewhat annoying him when he ignored the dirty looks Sam gave him. If Dean thought Sam was going to be cajoled back into that building he was nuts. They walked through the playground, circled the building, but Dean didn't so much as peek in a window, much to Sam's relief. He felt monumentally silly as they completed their survey shivering from the memory of his last visit. Blessedly Dean didn't make a big deal out of it, but did let his fingertips rest lightly on Sam's back. Sam didn't feel silly at all when comfort and reassurance and warmth spread through him from that simple gesture.

When Dean looked at him, raised a questioning eyebrow Sam shrugged, "Maybe just a residual, but nothing even close to what it was."

That seemed to satisfy his brother. "Hit the road? There doesn't seem to be anymore we can do here." Dean clapped Sam's shoulder then wound his fingers around Sam's neck, steering him back to the car.

"Yeah, sounds great actually."

They drove, stopping about halfway back to Ithaca for an early dinner. This time he was actually hungry. Sam felt better with each mile put between them and Battersfield. If he never went back there again it would be too soon. He felt no sense of accomplishment at clearing the town of its resident demonic inhabitant. For once Sam didn't even feel compelled to go back and recheck, though he knew at some point Dean would want to and Sam would have to go with him. He sure wouldn't risk Dean going back alone.

Back in the car, driving, they had a good view of the sunset. As darkness fell a chill hit the air, and Dean turned the heat on. Warm, full and feeling very content and safe there, driving along with Dean through the open countryside of New York Sam leaned back, stretched his back over the seat until it cracked, then slipped down so his head rested against its back. Sensing and feeling Dean's movements more than anything else Sam smiled when a blanket was pulled over from the back, dropped on him. He didn't even grumble (much) at his brother for dropping it completely over his face, just pulled the soft wooly material away to nestle under his chin. Warmth spread through him from the spot on his chest where Dean's palm lingered for a minute or so before withdrawing to the steering wheel again. Yeah, everyone should be so lucky to have a Dean in their lives…Sam's final thoughts as he drifted to sleep was remorse for those who didn't and gratitude he did.

Inhaling sharply, Sam had no idea what woke him other than the change in his own breathing. Black, surrounding him was black, thick dark black that was closing in from all sides, blotting out all else. Gripping the blanket tightly with both fists Sam straightened in the seat, not daring to move more than his eyes. It was dark, flat, cold, bone-chilling dark—black. No shimmer from the moon or stars. He heard the rustle of trees, but couldn't see them. Even their shadows vanished, eaten by the black. Head whipping around he searched the car for Dean, it shouldn't be so hard to see his brother, the car after all wasn't that big.

Dean was gone! Gone, he was gone. Sam was alone in the car, the car with the engine still on, in park, idling. Dean said the thing couldn't come snatch him in the middle of the night, but he'd been wrong and now Dean was gone. Snatched right from the car, right from under Sam's nose, he was gone, and there was nothing but black and dark and …."Dean!"

The driver side door creaked open, the car dipped as Dean slid in. Bolting straight up, blanket tossed off Sam would have jumped out his window if it'd been open.

"What?" Dean looked at him, epitome of confused. "You ok?"

"Where were…I woke up…alone." He really didn't care if Dean said he was a girl, he should have left a note or woken Sam to tell him he was abandoning him in the middle of the night in the middle of nowhere with blackness descending on all sides.

Rolling his eyes, Dean simply smirked at him, "Sammy, I drank five cups of coffee, I had to take a leak. It's not like I was out selling you to gypsies."

Looking around, taking in what was inside as well as outside the car Sam glared at him. "You couldn't stop at a gas station?" Where there are LIGHTS?

"Un-bunch your shorts." Dean rolled his eyes and huffed. "No, my teeth were going to float out. I didn't think you'd wake up, and I really didn't think you'd wake up and freak out on me. There isn't another turn off for fifty more miles."

Calming his breathing Sam ignored Dean's sarcasm and ventured a look around. It was still dark, but normal dark, not impermeable, flat blackness. The trees took shape, gray against a dark purple night sky. The moon was just past full, stars and the occasional cloud cluttered the sky. A slight breeze moved the grass at the roadside, the branches of the trees beyond. Just regular night, regular dark, nothing closing in, nothing carrying evil or fear. "Can we just get back to Ithaca?" Not meaning to snap at his brother, he'd gone and done it again.

Dean gave him another odd look before putting the car in gear, pulling back onto the road. "Sheesh, don't think I'm stopping if you have to pee."

"Just shut up Dean."

Laughing, Dean reached over and rubbed his knuckles over Sam's head, earning an immediate swat to his ribs. Then just because he could, and because it would annoy his big brother Sam changed the radio station with a snort and a smirk of his own. Dean simply retaliated by poking Sam's side, getting him to jump away, then smacked the back of Sam's head. Sam couldn't cover his smile though when he felt the gentle tug of Dean's fingers in his hair just before Dean's hand dodged away, his elbow tucked to his side so Sam couldn't poke him back. Not that Sam was much deterred, but when he tried Dean bent to the left, still blocking him. The car swerved a few feet before settling back on its course.

"Hey, Sam, driving here."

"You did that on purpose, I saw your arm move."

"I did not. I wouldn't do that! Endanger the lives of other drivers, or my baby." Now Dean was feigning innocence and indignation.

"Did to." Sam snorted and flicked the back of Dean's hand when he reached for the radio dials.

Sliding him a truly wicked smile Dean shook his head, "Whatever Sammy."

"Dean?"

"Yeah Sam?"

"I have to pee."

Dean leveled such a glare at him Sam couldn't help the laughter from bubbling up and out his mouth.

"There's some cups in the back I think." Dean said in a perfectly serious voice. That just made Sam laugh more. Flicking on the overhead light Sam spent the remaining part of the drive making notes, going over what he'd read before. He wrote a few things in Dean's journal for him, he'd enter his notes on his laptop once they'd gotten back.

By the time they'd returned to Ithaca Sam was squirming in his seat, he really did have to pee by then, a lot. Dean the evil bastard refused to stop, and did a sing-song ooppssies whenever he drove by a turn off. When Dean made a run for the bathroom (just to be Dean and annoy him) Sam took full advantage of longer arms and little brother status by getting Dean in a strangle hold, then shoving him to the side, darting around him and into the bathroom, closing the door on Dean's howls of laughter. Some days Dean was an ass.

Dean was stretched on the couch, flicking through stations, looking very smug and pleased with himself when Sam emerged, then settled at the kitchen table to make his entries on his laptop. It wasn't very late when he'd finished, and he'd slept for a good part of the drive back, so he didn't think it was too late to see Craven. He was a ghost after all. Sam doubted he needed much sleep. Though Sam and Dean both always gave the spirit forewarning they were dropping in. Sam chuckled as he sent the email.

"What?" Dean glanced up at him.

"I just sent Craven an email, said I'd be over in a few…talk about the ghost in the machine."

Dean groaned, "The keys are on the counter if you want to take the car."

Sam's eyes flicked to the picture window, and dark beyond, then down to his shoes. This was silly, it was stupid, but the thought of going outside, alone, in the dark made his throat go tight. "I thought we could just walk over. It's a nice night out."

"Sam," The tone Dean used had Sam automatically meeting his brother's gaze. That was the somewhat commanding tone Dean used that always foretold he'd want an answer to something, probably an answer Sam didn't want to give. "Did that thing show up in the car?"

Shaking his head, "No. I woke up, it was so black, I was disoriented, that's all. You were gone, you never leave—" Stuttering to a stop, Sam could only stare at his feet now. Why'd he have to bring that up, their argument? Why couldn't he just shut his mouth some days?

Huffing some noise that was equal parts tired, exasperated and understanding Dean dropped first one leg, then the other slowly off the couch, reached for his boots and pulled them on. He stood, stretching on his way up, gave Sam a small smile and neutral expression then a nod. "Ok, I get it." Taking the laptop bag while Sam shouldered his backpack with books Dean gave him a quick shove on his back. "Try not to take all night, I want to see how the guy on American Idol with a worse hair cut than you does."

"Thank you." Sam said in a low voice as he trailed behind Dean down the steps. He knew his brother heard him by the slight way Dean's shoulders relaxed and the corners of his eyes crinkled for just the briefest instant.

Yeah, Sam definitely felt sorry for all the rest of the world who didn't have a Dean in their lives. What he'd do without that brother, Sam had no idea, and never wanted to find out.

Craven had long since given up waiting for the brothers in his entry way, and half the time they came in through the back kitchen door anyway. He'd taken to making sure there was beer and pop, as well as snacks for them, giving them the run of the house while they were there. Sam was too interested and focused on his studies and research, the boy was possibly the best student he'd ever had in that regard. Dean would often prowl the house, he'd taken an interest in the various things Craven had collected over the many, many years. At night Craven's telescope was his prime target. It was ironic Craven thought, for not the first time, Sam was the student, but Dean was the one with the insatiable curiosity about anything and everything. For some reason neither Craven nor Sam could fathom or explain Dean had taken a liking to yard work, he'd trim bushes, rake leaves and plant bulbs, appearing in the library every hour or so to see what Craven and Sam were up to. Craven had no delusions, he was checking on his brother. Sam would only half-heartedly hide a shy smile and the spark in his eyes that would fade the second Dean left the room.

On the flip side of that, Craven could see with crystal clarity, anything living or dead stupid enough to threaten Dean would undoubtedly discover Sam could be twice as lethal, twice as fast. Sam was as protective of his brother, just less obvious and went about it in a different way. It was always the way it would be with them Craven knew.

Some, Craven realized early on, might have rebelled against a brother such as Dean, but not Sam. In fact he seemed most content and flourished when his brother was around. There were days Craven saw pure exasperation for what Sam called Dean's tendencies, but that never lasted long, and had gone away completely since their argument. Craven had seen within minutes of meeting them, their strength lay not in what they knew or what skills they had, but in the fact they had each other. He'd come to learn after many, many years, a bond such as that was the most powerful weapon of all. These two had an advantage because they certainly knew how to wield that weapon.

This night Dean kept to the library, the telescope he'd often amused himself with forgotten. He'd settled in a corner chair, book against his thighs, but Craven could see he wasn't turning the pages, it was for show. Every few minutes his eyes would wander to Sam, then away quickly, as if he expected his brother to disappear. Twice as Sam was relating the events of their most recent encounter Dean's gaze settled on him for longer, concern or maybe something closer to dread on his face. Sam hurried through those parts, giving Craven sketchy details at best. The boy seemed almost embarrassed or apprehensive; a curious assessment Craven was having a difficult time grasping. He understood Sam had in some way been attacked by the thing, but any further details weren't offered. There was much more to it, that was plain by both brothers' mood and reactions.

Both times Sam would meet Dean's gaze, and something would pass between them. Craven could only guess what, but Dean's impassive expression and stable eyes projected a steadfastness, a silent approval for Sam to tell as much or as little as he wanted, needed to, an approval very much sought after.

"Dean's actually the one who noticed the weather correlation." Sam said, this time pointedly drawing Dean's attention.

"I wondered if there was something more to that than just people in desperate situations." Craven said, pleased when Dean finally gave up pretending to read a book, and moved closer, joining them. "There's a hurricane coming heading for the South Carolina coast."

"I saw that." Leaning against Craven's desk, Dean avoided Sam's eyes, it was obvious to Craven Sam didn't know anything about the storm. "Supposed to be pretty nasty by the time it gets there."

Sam looked down at his books for a few seconds, then up at Dean. "We should go." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Craven wondered again, as he would many times in the years to come, exactly what that thing had done to Sam. He saw as much as Dean wanted to stop the thing, he would never force Sam into this hunt. Yet, it was clear to Craven, Sam would never not choose to follow his brother, no matter the cost to himself. Their trust in one another, and loyalty to one another touched him yet again in a way he'd never expected.

"You'll stay in touch." Craven wasn't asking, he felt responsible for this, in a way for them.

The mood in the room suddenly lifted when Dean smiled broadly, "You betcha we will." Thumping the back of Sam's shoulder with two fingers, "Won't we Sammy?"

Sam looked up, first at Dean, then at Craven, a small nod and a not so small grin, "We will."

"Good. I'll have some things prepared by tomorrow morning for you to work on while you're not here." Craven said. A few minutes later he bid them farewell for the evening. Watching them walk away from the kitchen, Sam stopped to readjust his back pack. He saw the boy's eyes skip swiftly across the night sky, then the area surrounding him. In the next second, with a quick look behind him, Sam sprinted after his brother. Craven already missed having them underfoot, and was looking forward to their return.