Sam typed furiously on his laptop keyboard. He knew there had to be information out there somewhere in cyberspace that would tell him more about the death symbol and how to combat it. But so far, he was finding absolutely nothing.

After Elizabeth had regained consciousness, Dean had managed to locate a small, abandoned cottage in the woods nearby. They were unable to figure out even the direction in which Cas had been trying to take them, let alone the destination. Furthermore, as Dean sensibly (and much to Sam's discouragement) pointed out, until they knew how the ritual was performed, they couldn't do anything to help her, anyway.

Dean was sitting on a small sofa in the living room. Elizabeth sat in a lumpy armchair. Sam and his computer both sat at the table on the other side of the room. He ran his long, slender fingers through his brown hair, sighing heavily as he clicked on yet another hyperlink.

Dean and Elizabeth watched him concernedly. Dean called across the room, "Hey, Sam, you find anything yet?"

Sam shook his head as he scrolled down the page. "Not yet, but I'm still looking." He smiled as a reputable article pleasantly surprised him. "Hey, I found something!"

Dean and Elizabeth both hurried to him, kneeling beside him. "What'd you find?" Dean asked.

"It's the symbol," Sam said, showing them a picture. "'Used in ancient rituals around the world to mark targets for attacks by evil spirits/demons. A very powerful symbol, used only to mark god-like victims.'"

"Angels," Dean realized.

"Yeah," Sam agreed, nodding. "'The ritual could only be performed by an experienced witch who called a very powerful demon to burn the mark into the victim's scalp."

Dean frowned. "How convenient for Meg. She's both. But we already know all this, Sam."

Elizabeth reached behind Sam to slap Dean's shoulder in annoyance. She shook her head at him.

Sam continued, "'The first part of the symbol, a circle in a hexagon, posed no threat except as a way of tracking the victim. At any time, the witch could locate the victim by contacting the demon who branded him. but when covered with an X, the symbol became a mark of death. The victim would then only live until dawn the next day, when he would be-'" He paused and glanced at Elizabeth. Her wide eyes and pale face told him that she had already read it, so he might as well finish. "'When he would be ripped apart from the inside in a very painful and gruesome death.'"

Elizabeth gulped.

"Yikes," Dean said. "Does it say how to break the curse?"

Sam scrolled down, and as he read, his expression became grim. "Yeah, it does," he said sadly. "'The mark could only be removed by a special shaman with a vial of a god's power."

Dean's face fell. "So, a witch has to call a demon to mark an angel, and only another angel can undo it?"

Sam's lips tightened determinedly. "There has to be another way," he said, typing rapidly. "There's almost always another way."

Dean was getting worried about him. "Sam, it's one in the morning. You've gotta get some sleep, man. You've done what you could."

Sam stared at him in shock. "Dean, what the hell are you saying?"

Elizabeth halted the conversation by slamming Sam's laptop closed and proceeding to sit on it, cross-legged. Sam gave her a stunned look. "Elizabeth, what-?"

She set her jaw.

Sam made a bitchface at her and said, "Elizabeth, get off my computer. You're being childish. And you're gonna break it."

Elizabeth wiggled her bottom and shook her head.

"Come on, man," Dean said. "You can't keep going forever. You need some sleep."

Sam glared at Dean, his eyes burning fiercely. "How can you expect me to sleep knowing that there's a human life at stake?"

"Cuz I'll be out here doing the research," Dean promised him. "I'm not gonna let her die, either."

Sam was about ready to agree, but Elizabeth shook her head firmly, pointed at both of them, and folded her hands like she was going to sleep. "No," Sam and Dean both said sternly. Dean said, "If one of us goes to sleep, the other one has to stay up to keep looking."

Elizabeth shook her head again.

Sam was at his wit's end. "Elizabeth, do you want to die? Is that it?"

Elizabeth lowered her eyes and bit her lip. She slid off the coffee table and went into the cabin's one small bedroom.

"Eliz-" Sam started to call, but she wasn't listening.

Dean sighed heavily, "I'll go talk to her."

"No," Sam said softly, shaking his head. "No, I'll do it." he got up and went to the bedroom, rapping softly on the door. After a moment, Elizabeth opened it and let him in.

Dean let out another heavy sigh and reopened Sam's laptop. He didn't feel like digging through his duffel bag for his own. But he felt he had to do something.