Usual Disclaimer - Own nothing... definitely not making money.

Additional Disclaimer – I don't own Skittles or Peanut M & M's either, not even the little travel packs.

Chapter 4

Kaitlyn felt the immediate tensing of the men at the mention of Sam's abilities. They had agreed to meet with her, today. She didn't really know where to go from there to convince them that this was a good thing.

"Are we really so sure this is a good idea?" Dean asked, looking from Kaitlyn to Sam.

Sam shrugged. There were still so many questions that they didn't have answers to, and may never. Which was the more responsible and safest course of action? Should he learn to use his abilities with the possibility that increased use of them would increase his chance of…What? Going darkside? But if I don't learn to control them and it puts Dean, or anyone, in danger again, isn't it worth the risk? Besides, we don't really know for sure if the powers cause people to become evil or if they were evil to begin with. Am I evil? Now? Is that why Dean gets nervous? Does he see something I don't? Don't go there...He sighed to himself. Then again, maybe the most responsible path isn't always the safest.

"I really can't convince you one way or another. The choice is yours. All I can say is that I've decided that, if I can help people by using my gift, it's worth any downside." Kaitlyn could only share what she had to offer, but she wouldn't force the issue, knowing that would be counterproductive. She waited as the men stood in indecision for a few minutes.

"Okay," Sam said, glancing uneasily at Dean. "What did you have in mind?" Dean offered a huff of frustration, but he sat in the hotel chair, listening intently. He was on edge, wanting to make sure no harm would come to his little brother.

Kaitlyn offered a slight smile. Sam was still unsure, and she knew Dean was not happy with the situation but had conceded the final decision to Sam. She didn't know how much progress they would make if Sam couldn't relax, and Dean might be the only one who could put him at ease enough to really allow him to make progress. But she had to try. Maybe she'd get a chance to talk to Dean later. "Well, I can't really help you with your visions, except…Let me ask you, Sam. Have you ever had premonitions that didn't involve immensely painful headaches, as much fun as those are?"

"Well, when they first started, I was just having the nightmares. Those weren't painful."

"Uh-huh. I have a theory. I told you that, when I first started feeling other peoples' emotions, I would get intense headaches. It wasn't up to your caliber, mind you, but fun none-the-less. I had subconsciously put up barriers in an attempt to block what my mind thought was an invasion, similar to our bodies' immune system, but…in the mind. I still have barriers, and I've gotten better at maintaining them when I have to, but I'm guessing the same type of thing is affecting to you. When you are asleep, your mind is free to accept what it is seeing. When you're awake, you're not only trying to fight to stay in the present with your physical body, which I think is a reflex, but you're also fighting your abilities…out of fear, fear of what they mean for you and your connection to the Demon. I think if you stop fighting them, it will go easier for you."

"And how, exactly, am I supposed to do that?" The question came out a little more clipped than Sam had intended. What she said made sense, but how could he not fight. On the other hand, that is why I'm here, isn't it? "I mean, how do I relax when the barriers are reflexive?"

Kaitlyn's expression became introspective as she thought about his question. "Well, you have to want to bring the barriers down, for one." She grinned, knowing that fighting not only came naturally for Sam, but was backed up with years of training. "When I was learning how to read people's emotions, if I found myself pulling back or trying to evade, I'd actually push out. Um, I don't really know how else to explain it. How do you unlearn any reflex or instinct? Hey, I said I might not be too helpful with the visions." Kaitlyn laughed.

Dean snorted. He wasn't really impressed so far, but at least she wasn't doing Sam any harm. Sam did, however get the gist of what she was saying. He knew he could overcome the reflexive part of his defense. He wasn't sure about the rest.

"Okay, on to something I think I can help with," Kaitlyn said while rubbing her hands together in anticipation of the real fun. "I figured we'd start with telekinesis. It's fairly safe and it doesn't involve the minds of other people. I'm going to 'download' Max's memories from when he was using TK. Now, it will be a stripped down version of the memory. I don't know if I could transmit images if I wanted to, but I'm going to try to dampen the emotion some while keeping the feel of using the TK. Hopefully that will be enough to jog your ability."

"If I even can use telekinesis. I've only used it once and it was more like a fluke. I couldn't do it at the cabin." Sam glanced over at Dean when he said this.

Kaitlyn didn't have to be an empath to know Sam felt extremely guilty about this; but she was, and feeling the full weight of his emotion was difficult to handle. She had already started lowering her guard in preparation of the memory transfer. The guilt, and her subsequent sympathy, almost brought tears to her eyes. She sat down hard on the edge of the bed and braced herself until the emotion passed. She looked up and saw both men giving her a concerned look.

"Sorry. Emotional overload for a second. I'm good." She offered a reassuring smile. "Okay. Sam, if you could sit down."

Sam sat across from her. They both shifted so they were comfortable on the bed, facing each other. Sam's leg was draped over the edge of the bed. Kaitlyn sat Indian-style near the head of the bed, but close enough that Sam was within easy touching distance.

"I want you to try to relax. Remember, we're doing this to help you. Close your eyes, try to clear your mind and anticipate receiving something…like a box. I'm going to touch your head. Touch can strengthen a psychic connection. Ready?"

Sam closed his eyes and nodded. He still startled a little when Kaitlyn did reach out and gently touch the side of his head. She also closed her eyes. Dean leaned forward in his chair, which served to both bring him closer to his brother and ready him to move quickly if need be.

Kaitlyn inhaled deeply and slowly let the breath out. At first, there was no reaction from Sam, but after a couple of seconds he frowned. The frown quickly turned into a grunt and he jerked away from Kaitlyn, simultaneously reaching up to palm his forehead. Kaitlyn opened her eyes and noted that Dean had risen to his feet, his anxiety high.

Sam seemed to sense Dean's change in position and emotion. He put out his hand and said reassuringly, "No, no. It's okay." He looked over at Kaitlyn. "Huh. That was … weird." He made eye contact with Dean, who sat back down, determining that Sam was not in danger and nodded. Sam nodded back.

"I'm…surprised, actually. I thought you'd put up more resistance," said Kaitlyn, "unless, of course, it didn't work."

"Well, I definitely got something."

"Hmm. Good. Now find an object to try to move and concentrate on how it felt to move the object in the memory."

Sam looked at Kaitlyn a little disbelievingly at how easy she made it sound. She just shrugged and smiled. Grabbing a pencil from the hotel nightstand, she put it on the bed between them, shifting away from him to give him room. "Close your eyes."

Sam closed his eyes and concentrated. He concentrated on the memory. Well, it didn't really feel like a memory since there were no images, sounds, nothing to associate it with the physical world. There was just feeling, and not as in the sense of touch. When he thought he'd narrowed down his focus to the "feeling" of telekinesis, he opened his eyes and tried to concentrate on the pencil, willing it to move. After a minute or so of staring at the pencil, he had a thought. It might work better if he had a path for the pencil, rather than just a desire to make it move. Gathering all the mental facets of this exercise together - feeling, concentration, destination - he continued to will and concentrate. After a moment, he huffed in frustration and looked up at Kaitlyn. She smiled reassuringly. He looked over at Dean. Dean shrugged and sat back a little in his chair.

"Sam," Kaitlyn called his attention back to her. "I'm going to keep the memory going, replaying it so it's fresh in your mind. You know, the more often you perform an action, the more pathways your brain builds for performing the tasks; it's how habits are formed and why they're so hard to break. Or like martial arts training, the more you perform a task, the more your body remembers the task and then can almost do it on autopilot as a learned reflex. Maybe if I keep the memory fresh, your mind will create a more solid connection to the feeling and the task."

Sam nodded. He settled himself again, going back through the mental processes of relaxing while also concentrating and focusing. He felt Kaitlyn reach out and touch his knee, and then the pressure and sensation of disconnected feeling, like remembering a dream. He was ready for it this time and didn't pull away as he had the first time. He sat again intently staring at the pencil, trying to will his mind to overcome matter.

Almost a minute later, Sam startled when the pencil flew at him. He was so not expecting to succeed in bringing the pencil to him, that he hadn't reached out to catch it and it lightly hit him in the stomach. He looked up at Kaitlyn, who was smiling, and realized he was smiling, too. He looked over at Dean. His heart fell a little when he saw that Dean had resumed his edge-of-his-seat position and was frowning slightly while looking at the pencil.

Dean looked up at Sam who was wearing the expression of a twelve year old who had proudly displayed his science project, only to have the judges pass by without a second glance. He was at a loss for words, though, afraid that anything he said would only make Sam feel worse. He was unexpectedly glad that Sam succeeded and yet far more worried at what this could mean for Sam. "Good job." He tried to sound genuine, but it came out flat, even to his ears. He did the only thing he could do. "We will forever be safe from zombie bunnies. You can just stake them with a pencil into their little burial shoe boxes." Dean chuckled. It was lame, but it was enough.

"Shut up," Sam said with a shake of his head and Kaitlyn actually laughed out loud. Sam hoped that if Dean was willing to joke, however badly, he would eventually be willing to accept it.

"You should keep practicing, Sam." Kaitlyn urged gently.

"I'm going to step out and grab us some food." Dean took a round of orders and headed out the door.

Kaitlyn got up, grabbed the picture she'd been working on from the easel and, with a backward glance at an intensely concentrating Sam, she headed out the door after Dean. She had waited long enough so that she had to catch up to him outside of the room. While she was going to give Dean the picture to fax to Dan, her cop friend back in PA, she really wanted an opportunity to chat with Dean privately, and she figured Sam would be busy for a few minutes.

"Hey, Dean?"

"Yeah?" He turned toward her. The casual observer would have thought that Dean was annoyed by the woman, but, as was typical with Dean, he presented the face that was necessary to prevent people from truly knowing what he was feeling. Fortunately for her, Kaitlyn was not a casual observer and knew that Dean was scared of what had just happened in the hotel room and was looking for escape, not a confrontation with the one person he held responsible.

"While you're out, can you stop by the little mail store in town and fax this picture to a friend of mine at the police station. The number's on the back. I'll give him a call and let him know it's coming."

"Sure." He took the picture. There was something about the face that was off. He wouldn't have thought he was just a human if Kaitlyn hadn't been so sure.

"Dean?"

"What?" He asked with a slight huff.

"Why are you afraid?" Dean stared at Kaitlyn a moment. He was surprised by the question and taken aback by her forwardness. She was practically a stranger. He realized, though, that he was unsettled, not because she was a stranger, but because he couldn't hide what he was feeling from her.

"I don't really want to talk about it, to tell you the truth."

"Well, it's just…I know how you're feeling."

She had barely gotten out the sentence when he stepped forward, enough in her personal space to be intimidating, "Lady, you don't know anything about me. You don't know how I'm feeling."

"Uh…empath," Kaitlyn responded taking a half step back and raising her hand as one did when attendance was being taken. "So, yes, unfortunately, I do. I can't help but not. You're like a…a big…walking…bag of Skittles."

"I'm a what?"

"You know, taste the rainbow – of emotion. Doesn't matter. The point is I may not know why you feel the way you do, but I do know what you're feeling. So I'm asking…why?"

Dean thought about what she said for a moment. At least she was asking rather than assuming she knew the reasons. "It's just…complicated." When it was obvious that wasn't going to cut it as an answer, he sighed and continued. "There's so much we don't know…about the abilities, about 'the chosen,' about the Demon and what its plans are. I just worry…for Sam. Psychic abilities tend to make people more interesting to every dark, evil thing out there. He's more of a target now then ever, and with him actually trying to…develop his talents, I just think it will make him more susceptible."

"So you're afraid for him?"

"Yes."

"Well, he needs to know that, Dean. He really thinks you're afraid of him, not for him." She paused, giving him time to consider what she'd said. "Let me ask you something. Who do you trust most in life?"

Dean was a little thrown by the change in direction of the conversation, but it was also an easy question to answer. "Sam," he stated confidently.

"You want to think about that for a minute?" she asked teasingly. "Some people, when asked that question, don't think to include themselves as a viable option. So, same question…Who would you…"

"Sammy."

"Why?"

"What? He's my brother." Dean knew she was heading somewhere with this, but wasn't yet sure where.

"So. Lots of people have siblings they love but don't even talk to, let alone trust. Yet they have a best friend they trust intimately with their very life. So…Why Sam?"

"I don't know, because he's always there. We fight side-by-side. I know he's got my back. I know practically everything there is to know about him, and the same goes for him knowing me."

She waved her hands, halting his list of reasons. "Exactly! You know him. You. Know. Him. Trust that. You mentioned that by him developing his talents he would become more susceptible. He's already a beacon - untapped, undeveloped. That's not going to change. Besides, I think by 'susceptible,' you weren't necessarily talking about him being a target?" She paused for confirmation. Dean reluctantly nodded. "It is possible to be tempted by the devil and win, especially when you've got someone there for you, believing in you. Sam's a good guy. He's a good guy in a way that not many people are. And he's strong. But if you stand with him…You're stronger together, side-by-side. He doesn't have to fall. There's always a choice. But, Dean, he won't reach his potential if he doesn't think you believe in him. And he's more likely to fall if you believe he will." Kaitlyn reached out and touched Dean's arm. "Just think about it." Kaitlyn turned from him and headed back to the hotel room.

"Hey," Dean called and Kaitlyn turned to look at him. "Peanut M & M's." She gave him a questioning look. "I don't like Skittles; I like Peanut M & M's." Kaitlyn smiled and nodded.

Her words had hit Dean square in the chest. It probably had something to do with the fact that they were so reminiscent of things he had said and thought. "We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are." But one of his legs had been knocked out from under him and he hadn't yet regained his footing. Too many things had changed too fast. He was unsure of so many things in the world right now, things he had always taken for granted. How could he muster the support he knew Sammy needed, deserved?

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A/N - Thanks again to all who so kindly take the time to review. Thanks for helping me in my learning process and encouraging me in writing the story. Thanks, as always, to my beta-er, J.A. Carlton and my editors, Mom and mei mei.