The power of Dean's blow cracked down like a raging thunder. The knife embedding into the fictional snake's skin, leaving the beast cleaved in two. Splintering filtered up as, in reality, the knife plunged into the wooden floor beside Sam's flaying legs.

The tail of the snake slivered on and the head refused to yield its grip on Sam. The snakes fangs gouged deeply in Sam's ankle in a vice grip. Grasping at the hallucination and pulling until his shoulder felt as if it would fall from his body, Dean rabidly tried to remove the beast in desperation.

"Dean! Snap out of it…Please!"

But his plea was useless, Dean had resorted back to free the knife. Just as frantically as he pulled at the imaginary danger in his mind, he now tried free the blade for another stroke. His mind hell-bent on saving his brother/

Sam hated to do it, but he used the distraction of Dean's rearming to deliver a smack to his brother's jaw. The pain registered, but Dean refused to give up his quest to free the blade.

"Sam, I have to get the poison out of you. Just hang on!" Dean was so lost in the hallucination; he didn't even question why Sam was fighting to prevent him from helping.

"DAMN IT, DEAN!" An angered concern swept away with Sam's vehemence to protect himself and his brother. He grabbed Dean's shoulders and shook harshly. White hot agony seared in Dean's shoulder socket.

"Aghhhh…uhh." The pain moved through Dean taking his grip away. Sam pressed harder upon the injury and Dean collapsed in pain within Sam's grasp. A drum pumping of pain raced over him. Falling to the floor, Sam's hold was ironclad pressure upon Dean's dislocated shoulder.

Sam did not release control over Dean, refusing to let go of the injured arm. Dean's breathing had turned to gasps of pain and his body writhed in agony.

"Arhhhhh……uhhhh…" Dean spasmed out between breaths.

Sam help on until a subdued whimper snapped came forth from Dean. Sam found himself gasping at the sound. His face washed over with guilt and concern. Twisting and pulling his brother's arm, he waited for the for the bone to snap back into the socket. Dean thrashed in pain, but the vision was gone. Sam gently lowered his brother's arm.

Repulsion took up residence in Sam's stomach. He hated that he had used Dean's injury to stop him, but fear of Dean hurting himself drove him to that desperate act. It reminded him of time he had been possessed by Meg, when she used Dean's injury to her advantage. It made him feel disgusted and repulsed by his similar act. He was aghast that he had gone that far.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you like that. I would never…." Sam's voice crumbled.

Dean still lay on the floor, but the pain's intensity had faded slightly. Thorough gritted teeth, Dean reassured Sam, "Its okay Sam. I...know……uhhhgh…. You didn't do it to hurt me." Dean's face reflected the repugnance he felt for himself. His face contorted with actual pain, guilt, and melancholy. He forced himself to speak through gasps of pain and an attempt to hold back tears. "I can't believe I let him back in my head, Sam. I...I'm not sure if I have kept him out or if the Sandman has been toying with me by not attacking for a little while- uhhhhuh…uhhh.. Giving me a false sense of security... or.. I don't know."

Dean attempted to roll himself upright but the momentum of the fight took most of his energy from him. He wobbled unable to stand. Before he could make another attempt, Sam was at his side.

He had carefully grasped Dean's good arm. His posture provided solace to Dean as he helped him sit on the bed's edge. "Dean, tell me what's happening with you. I want to help. Describe the visions...ANYTHING...Maybe there's a pattern...I"

"I will, Sam...but", Dean said to stop Sam's inquisition. The pounding in his head was so furious and the Sandman's laughter was ever present, he couldn't take any more for the moment. Quickly changing the subject and fictitiously passing off that he had returned to normal, Dean sad in a controlled manner "... I could really use that food more than anything."

"I can't leave you now." Sam demanded. Dean was changing the subject again and shutting him out.

"Sammy... I'm safe for the moment." Dean said unconvincingly as he rubbed his head partly for pain and partly out of a stress reflex.

"Don't shut me out. I know this is hard. I can see it in your eyes Dean. You're a horrible liar." Sam's eyes were sorrow wide with concern. He couldn't risk hurting Dean again to stop these visions.

"Hustled a lot of people to be such a bad liar." Dean relied on his "Mr. Change the Subject" mode to save him once again.

"And changing the subject won't work with me either. Don't you think I know you better than that, Dean?" Sam's softness of voice compelled to share Dean's burden.

Dean attempted a smile for Sam's benefit. "Sam….I will… I promise, but please. I just need time to think. Between last night, this morning, and this afternoon…..I just….Hell, I don't know if I can explain it. Sam… I… know your scared that I…might leave you sooner than planned, but…I don't know what to do…I… please…just give me a moment. It already getting late in the day and neither of us eaten or slept well….."

"Have you slept at all?" Sam stared Dean down. Dean's lips puckered in refusal to answer. "Dean, I'm not stupid. I can see how tired you are. You're worn out and I know you're scared of something. You can't hide your feelings from me."

An appreciative loving half smile, light part of the paleness on Dean's face. "Guess, you know me better than I thought."

"Sometimes… Other times…not so much." Sam joked.

Dean's voice was soft and open. "I promise, when you get us some grub….we'll talk. I haven't slept…I don't think I can…" Dean saw a fear flash briefly upon Sam's face and quickly changed his tone. "So you'll have to get use to my ass being grumpy.

Sam chuckled lightly "Like that is anything new. "

"Go… get us some grub…I promise we'll have the "terms of endearment" moment later." Dean chuckled.

Sam, taking pity on Dean, agreed to run the quick errand. "Alright, but I get the extended version and not he crib notes. Then, we should pay a visit to Dr. Benton. She might be able to help us. " He grabbed his jacket, went to the door, and then turned back to Dean with penetrating eyes. Dean nodded, smiled softly, and waved at Sam. It seemed to appease Sam for the moment, but Dean heard Sammy jogging quickly. It wouldn't be long before Sam returned.

Dean swung the computer screen open and began to search for a place- any place- that would keep him from hurting anyone else, especially Sam. He needed a place that he couldn't get out of once he got in it. He knew of only one place and was surprised to find one a day's drive a way.

He dumped all his possessions out of his duffel and quickly packed what sparse junk food and drinks they had in the room. Not that he felt like eating, but years of training were hard to break. He tossed his cell phone in his clothes pile before he instinctively grabbed the Impala's keys. Glancing down at them, his eyes welled. "Sammy..." Dean said aloud. "I'm sorry, but I can't put you through this."

Dean quickly wrote a note and folded the Impala's keys into it. He scrawled Sammy across the front with a heavy heart that tempted to break whatever reserve of calm Dean had left. Shutting down the computer, Dean closed the lid and left the note on top. Slinging the duffel over his shoulder, Dean grasped the motel door. He closed his eyes for a second, and the words "Goodbye Sammy!" spilled out.