Here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long to get up, busy week. I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Thank you so much for the reviews.

The next evening, the black Chevy Impala pulled into a parking spot outside of the Thunderbird Inn . Sam had done pretty good today, but Dean was still glad that they were now in Savannah. Some where around the southern part of South Carolina it had started to rain, and the closer they got, the worse the storm became. For the past thirty miles or so, Sam had been completely silent, and Dean could swear that he was biting on his fingernails. It would be easier to get Sam to lay down on the bed and go to sleep now that they had reached their destination. After paying for the room with one of his credit cards, Dean came back and got Sam. Sammy's feet shuffled as he walked, as if he hadn't slept in days, and Dean sighed, out of concern.

"When we get in there, lay down. I'll take care of everything." Dean told his baby brother coming up to their room. He opened the door, watching Sam work to get his things in.

Walking into the hotel room, Sam started to open the laptop and start it. "Sammy, why don't you just lay down?" Dean asked sternly, and then wondered why he had just expected Sam to listen.

"I'm going to look up some more information on this thing, and then I promise, I'm going to sleep." Sam said, putting his hands in the air in a surrender position. Dean rolled his eyes, and reached for the remote. He didn't understand why he had to be such a stubborn ass. They both knew that he was tired, but he wouldn't slow down. After surfing the channels for a moment, trying to find something interesting, he settled on watching the evening news.

"In local news, another suicide has happened at the Savannah College of Art and Design, in the Oglethorpe House. This brings the death toll to nine over the last semester. Channel three reporter April Daniels is live from where she is speaking with President Patricia Walker and Gary Freeman, the security director on campus. Over to you, April." The main news anchor said in the professional clipped tone.

Dean glanced around for a moment to make sure that Sam had got that, and saw that Sam was already finding the website for the station. He looked back at the television, listening to the campus president and security chief stumble to explain why this was happening and what they were doing to stop it. These people really thought, even if everything was as it seemed, that they would stop things from happening simply by offering more counseling and having students make sure their friends were okay. Suicide, all things being usual, was committed by people who didn't really have any friends, no one to turn to. Glancing back over his shoulder, he met eyes with Sam for a brief moment. He never knew how Sam had adjusted those first few months he was at Stanford, didn't see the reaction to his brother finding out that he was sick. Had Sam felt like killing himself in those times? The thought had never really occurred to him, but now, hearing about all this, he wondered. They should have gone back to check on him before the beginning of the spring semester that first year, but they had both been too angry with him for leaving. He shook the thoughts off, and continued to watch the news coverage. When it was done, he got off the bed and came over to where Sam sat at the round table in the room.

"So, what do we have?" Dean asked, plopping down in the chair next to Sam and moving it closer so that he could look at the computer, too.

"Well, technically nothing. The news stations didn't have the victims names' in the story, but there are obits. Two people, a guy and a girl, who attended the college are in there. The guys name is Benjamin, and he worked in the building part-time. It sounds like this guy had everything going for him. It's the same with the girl. Amanda had just graduated from high school early and was at the college for her first semester. She's originally from Florida, and it's always been a dream of hers to go to this school. She lived in the building." Sam listed off the information that he had found, and looked back at his big brother.

"How do you know that?"

"She went into her dorm room, and slashed her wrists. Her boyfriend found her like that." Sam said.

"That's in an obit?" Dean got closer, trying to find it there.

"No. It's in a separate article." Sam said, flipping the screens so that the article came up. It had a picture of her, and after looking at it for a moment, Dean quickly assessed his brother. She was the spitting image of the woman that he had seen in his brother's apartment the night he had come for his help. Sam was still somber, but he didn't seem overly distraught. Maybe he was just high-strung about the case and overreacting, but either way, he wasn't going to bring up the similarities.

"So, maybe this thing isn't controlling them through that window. I mean, we know that the first suicide happened through the window, but she could be controlling these people some other way. Maybe it's the whole building, or it could be something else." Dean started getting excited because this case was more than just replace the window and find, salt, and burn the bones. He looked through his notes. "Okay, so we've found at least two of the suicides where the woman was pregnant, but these were the obvious ones. This guy, Benjamin, did he have a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, a wife. They were trying to have a baby, but so far nothing." Sam said, looking over at his brother, confused with his line of thinking.

"How about this girl, Amanda, was she pregnant?" Dean continued on, and Sam saw where he was going.

"No, she wasn't. She had the boyfriend, but it would have said if she were pregnant." Sam said, shooting Dean's idea down. "There might not be a way that she's picking her victims. It could just be random, or maybe it has to do with them having someone that they're either dating or married to. It could be that they were just passing by the area and were just the most vulnerable to an attack. Dean, we have to go down there, and see what we can find, if there's any EVP activity."

Sam started to get up and grab the light jacket he had been wearing, but Dean stopped him. "It's raining, you're still really susceptible to colds and flus, and you're tired. We can wait until the morning. Go take a shower and go to bed." His voice was stern and left no room for argument. Sam had been quiet since they got into Georgia, even before then, and he was getting sick of it. His lack of talking about things even in the least chick-flick-like way had gotten them in trouble in the past more than once. Dean didn't want a full-on chick flick moment. They'd had enough of those in the hospital to last a lifetime. It would be nice to not be kept in the dark, though.

Sam went into the bathroom with the shirt that he was going to wear that night, and locked the door behind him. The images that assaulted him for the last few hours had not gone away, but had became worse. He didn't remember much of the hospital, but he did remember that Dean was there. It would benefit him more to say that they were just memories that had been buried from when he was sick. The images made him sick though, and couldn't be described as accurate memories. He saw Dean leaned over him as he laid on a floor, heard the hitch in Dean's voice as he told him to hold on and that he was going to get him some help. He knew it was a floor, though, because he could feel the cold tile under his body. He saw the pill bottles sitting on top of the sink, rolled over. Had he passed out before taking the pills and Dean found him? There was a cold dread in his stomach that told him he was dying when all this was happening. He quickly pushed aside the thought that the cancer had come back. It would be too hard for Dean to go through again, especially if he had to go it alone. He had already been enough of a burden, and so he didn't talk.

He started to get ready for a shower and then decided a bath would be much better. As he leaned down to get the water started and ready, he felt vertigo, and sat down quickly on his knees, waiting for the dizziness to pass. The floor underneath him was cold tile, and the panic from the moment helped to ease the vertigo enough for him to spring to his feet, trying hard to get away from the floor. Noticing the tub was almost full, he stripped down and got in. This was the place where he was going to die, or at least come close to it. 'And this is why knowing things others don't sucks.' He thought as he slid down into the tub.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please feel free to review in any way you would like, whether it be critique, praise, or a question.

I will try to get the next chapter out as soon as possible. Monday at the latest.