A/N: Okk hope you all like this chapter. I'm gonna try and update as much as I can but I'm on vacation so they might be a little farther apart. But when I'm sitting around doing nothing I'm gonna update : )

- - - - - - -

THIS IS WHAT I THINK SO THINK ME NAÏVE

-DEAN'S POV-

So Dean you've got your plan. Got your way to save your brother.

You've got it. You've got it.

We're waking up first thing in the morning. I'm getting the stuff. I'm trapping that son- or daughter of a bitch. I'm fixing this goddamn mess. I'm erasing time.

I'm saving my brother no matter who gets in my way be it witch, be it ghost. Be it all of hell rising up to smite me down and bring me down with them.

I'm saving Sam even if he gets in my way.

Here I am. I've got my plan. I've figured out a way to try and save him without help from that journal.

There he is. All negative. All 'not gonna happen'. Completely and utterly and totally sure it's just not going to work. Thanks Sammy. Thanks for the support.

I'm going to wake myself up in the morning and just go without him cause I can't take this crap. I know I've pretty much sucked for the past few days but I'm doing the best I can. And if I wasn't before I am now. And if you still don't believe me look at the notepads full of information. Check your laptop's Internet history. Check my raw fingers; check the bags under my eyes.

Check my head cause you're the only thing in it.

I'm doing everything and anything I can do.

I deserve a little compassion. I deserve a little optimism.

Hey look at me! I'm only trying to save of our lives!

I'm going to bed. I'm gonna take a 'nap'. Gonna make all this empty from my mind.

I probably sleep for a good nine hours and by the time I wake it's ten. I'm just on time. Because Sam's still sleeping and the store just opened. Because now I can go out without his two cents. I can go out without his negative attitude.

I arrive at the store and I'm surrounded by aliens.

I'm surrounded by women searching to get the morning bargain. I'm surrounded by my grandparents. The ones that wake up so early to catch the shuttle. They come to the store to socialize, not to buy.

They're here without a care in the world.

Yeah, I don't really fit in.

And when do I ever?

I get what I need and get out of this strange place as fast as possible. I get to the Impala and throw my bag of goodies in the seat that should be holding Sam. I'm arriving at the motel with half the things I had to do done.

Well, at least I'm productive.

I ease myself through the door and close it behind me as quietly as possible. Sam's still sleeping. Perfect.

And I don't mean that sarcastically.

I can set up as much of this thing with him out of the way. Without his 20 questions, without his 20 doubts. He twists and turns in his sheets as if he knows what's going on outside of his dreams.

I've set up this alter like thing on the table that looks out of the window. An alter in this sleazy motel room. Ha.

Everything looks set. Everything is where it's supposed to be. All I need to do now is get Sam somewhere safe and say the words it told me to say.

How oh so prolific of me.

I'll get the witch here get her to try and cast some kind of curse on me or whatever. Shoot that bitch with a silver bullet right in the heart and I'll be done.

We'll all just move on.

I take one look at my sasquwatch brother and realize getting him out of the way is going to be easier said than done. He's obviously get this little fetish for saving me when he must know by now I'm the only one aloud to do saving around here.

But don't worry. I've come prepared.

Again my productivity, my thinking ahead. It amazes even me.

So I make this drug I've heard about before. The one used to do horrible things to people by knocking them out. You mix this chemical with this chemical and then u put it on a cloth and hold it over the person's face so they breath it in.

Can you believe I'm doing this to my brother.

After the drug is made and put on the cloth, I take that washcloth and stick it in my pocket before stalking over to my brother. He doesn't even have a goddamn chance. I jump over him and hold down his arms with all my strength hoping that his grogginess and the fact that he's still a little weak will work in my favor. He wakes up immediately obviously confused.

"Dean what the fuck are you doing?" he screams, fear brewing in his eyes.

"Sorry Sammy it's just how it's gotta be."

That's all I can say to explain myself? Damn.

I pull out the washcloth and smile sympathetically. His eyes grow wide and I can see tears in his eyes. He acts like he has no idea what I'm doing. He makes faces like this is such a surprise.

"Please… I don't under… stand…" Sam begs through struggles and attempts to save himself. They're all pointless. I'm stronger. I say one last 'sorry' and shove that fucking piece of cloth into his face. He tries to squirm away. Tries to not breathe it in, but he can't help it. After a few seconds he's out.

Way to go Dean. You have successfully drugged your brother.

You've drugged your sad, self-destructive, depressed, scared, confused, suicidal, doomed, chosen, and at times delusional brother.

What the hell do you want? A medal?

I push a pair of handcuffs into my pocket from the nightstand and begin the task of dragging my brother to the bathroom. I strip all the blankets from his lanky form and throw them to the other bed. I walk to the end of the bed and grab hold of his feet and pull. He slowly comes from the bed.

I never really saw myself doing this.

He's getting close to being totally down. His legs are folded on the floor because they're so fucking long and I gently ease his head and shoulder down to the floor. Once he's lying full length I begin dragging him to the bathroom.

This entire genius plan takes about ten minutes to complete for the most part. Once he's in the bathroom I lean him up against the toilet because I'm guessing he's going to be sick when he wakes up.

By the way. Sorry Sammy.

I pull the handcuffs from my pocket and handcuff him to the pipe under the toilet and take a look at my sleeping- or drugged brother. Man I suck.

I'm not really sure how long this is gonna take so I bring a blanket and pillow some water and anything else my brother might need and set it down next to him.

Again how fucking prepared am I?

As I'm about to leave I realize he's probably gonna wake up in 20 minutes. I didn't make the drug that strong enough to keep him sleeping. I curse myself and run to the duffle bag. I find a scarf thing or bandana. Whatever.

I run in the bathroom undo his cuff and make it so both is hands a cuffed, not just the one. I hate my self for doing this but I have no choice.

I gag my brother. Yeah my brother.

Now I realize the water and blankets a re useless so I put the pillow behind my brother's head and wrap him with the blanket. I set up the glass on the back of the toilet seat and place a straw from one of our latest fast food stops and everything looks good.

Everything is perfect.

Well, not everything. Since you see I still have yet to realize that this plan is not going to work. That Sam was right. That really all my plans all my perfect setups are all just mocking me.

The alter is mocking me. The straw, mocking me. Sam's gag is mocking me. The entire room laughing. Everyone is this entire fucking motel laughing at the fool in room 103.

The fool who thinks his plans are gonna work. The fool who thinks they have a chance. The fool who has hope. Who's trying to save his brother.

The fool walking to the alter and reading the spell right now. The spell that will not work.

So Dean lets think of something to call this.

You can do it. You can do it.

How about prolific wishful thinking

No, no.

Let's call it a productive waste of time.

Yeah, that sounds about right.