This is the first part in the series 'To Everything' There will be like six parts (as of now) and it will be about Sam turning. So, yeah.

Still don't own Supernatural. Not suing would be appreciated. I have no money, I promise, so please just let me use the brilliant characters.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

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Sam woke first. The early morning light was just starting to ease into the room. He slowly sat up and felt the pull of the wound across his chest. There was a slight buzzing pain in his head and he figured it was just from the previous night. He stood and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. He stepped into his shoes and slipped out of the room, all without waking Dean.

In the cool, morning air, he walked towards the Impala and leaned against the trunk. He pulled his hands into the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He just stood there and watched the morning come. Sudden images from the hunt would flash across and he could see himself taking the shot again. At the time he didn't notice how close it was to Dean, how easily he could have been hit.

"You doing okay?" Dean stood a few feet back.

Sam glanced over and nodded. "Sorry."

"About what?"

"Taking that shot." He whispered. "It was stupid."

Dean shrugged, but kept his eyes on Sam. "Saved my ass, so I'm not complaining."

He folded his arms across his chest to try and shake the chills that raced up his spine. "Are we moving on?"

"We could."

Sam pushed away from the car. "I'll get my stuff."

Dean watched his brother walk back towards the room. He waited a few moments before he followed. It didn't take them long to pack up what they had and throw it in the trunk. Sam was unusually silent and Dean hoped it was only from the pain pills.

Sam's phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket. "Hello?"

"Did you like it?" The voice on the other end was confidant, arrogant almost.

"What?"

Dean looked over at Sam.

"When you could do anything yesterday, when you were invincible and you took that shot. Did you like it?"

Sam took a breath to calm his racing heartbeat. "How did you?"

"I know a lot of things about you, Samuel."

"Who are you?" Sam shivered.

"All in good time. We are destined to meet." The sinister smile could almost be heard through the phone.

"When?"

There was a pause. "Very soon. You'll know when." Then the call was ended.

Sam slowly closed the phone and returned it to his pocket. He swallowed and tried to figure out why his blood was running so cold.

Dean glanced over. "Who was that?"

"Dunno." He met Dean's eyes before he turned back to the road.

Dean tried to brush it off. "And you don't find that odd?"

Sam shrugged and turned back to the window. Dean wanted to get every answer from Sam, but he resisted grilling his brother like a police interrogation. He hated the feeling when things weren't adding up, just like everything was now.

"How's your shoulder?"

Sam shrugged again. "How's your arm."

Dean sighed. "Stitches and blood beats a few bruises, so level with me."

"It's fine." He was distracted by the call and he had the feeling that he should know the voice somehow.

With his jaw clenched, Dean pulled onto the side of the road. Sam turned to his brother as he switched off the car.

"Dean?"

He turned to Sam. "Gunshots that nobody I know could make and mystery phone calls? What the hell's going on, Sam?"

For a moment Sam looked younger, then he blinked at it was gone. "I honestly don't know. I keep thinking I should, but I don't know why." He looked away from Dean's determined gaze.

"What do you want to do?"

He shrugged.

"I swear to god, Sam, if you shrug one more time, I'll beat the shit out of you."

Sam looked up, but Dean wore a forced smile. "Yeah?" He managed a smile.

Dean looked at his brother for a few moments before he turned the car back on. "Just keep me in the loop, Sammy."

"Sure." He sighed as the car was pulled back onto the road.

Dean's phone rang after a few nearly silent hours. "Yeah."

"It's Bobby. How's Sam?"

"Fine. You got something for us?" He glanced over at Sam.

"Looks like vengeful spirit in a house a few hours from my place. Can you get there?"

Dean checked his watch. "Should be there in five or so hours. Get it in the morning?"

"Don't think it's going anywhere. You want to crash at my place?"

He glanced over at Sam who nodded. "Sounds good."

"See you both tonight." He ended the call.

Dean tossed his phone in the cup holder and turned up the music a little.

"What'd Bobby have for us?"

"Standard spirit, we'll get it tomorrow." He glanced over.

Sam slid down in the seat a little and folded his arms across his chest. He shifted until the pain across his shoulder eased some and he sighed. Dean kept an eye on him and knew Sam was just about done traveling for the day. His own arm was aching from driving, and Sam hadn't had any pain pills in a while. Dean was about to dig for them.

"Don't bother." Sam muttered, his eyes closed. "I'm all right until we get there."

"Stay out of my head." Dean joked.

Sam paled a little and almost tensed. "Wouldn't go there even if you paid me." Truth was, it was a little more than knowing how Dean worked. He wondered if he had somehow accidentally tuned into Dean's thoughts. Dean didn't miss his brother's reaction and Sam knew that just from knowing his brother.

"Don't worry." Sam glanced over. "There aren't many thoughts to stumble across anyway."

"Least they're more interesting than yours."

"Girls and hustling pool? Yeah, that beats intelligence any day." He deadpanned.

Dean cranked the radio. "You're just jealous because I have fun."

It was meant as a joke, but Sam had to agree. Dean knew how to have fun and Sam, well Sam remembered at least. He thought too much, that was the problem, it always had been. Dean could step out of a job, have a beer and play a game of pool. Sam was still in the job, still analyzing everything.

Dean noticed Sam's silence again. "You okay?"

"Just tired, or something." He sighed.

"You'd let me know, if something was wrong." Dean glanced over.

"Stop worrying." Sam leaned his aching head against the window. "I'm fine. Really."

"Sure, you always are." Dean muttered to himself and focused back on the road.

Sam managed to ignore the pain and fall asleep. Dean burned away the miles and minutes to Bobby's place. He could relax once they got there, once he and Bobby had opened a few beers and figured out whatever was going on. A shudder still ran up his spine when he thought about how close that shot had been. For a moment, Dean wondered if Sam was aiming for him after all.

The yard light in back was on when Dean pulled into the driveway. He turned off the car and leaned back against the seat. Bobby came out of the house a few seconds after. Dean reached over and woke Sam. With little more than a slight glance over at his brother, Sam climbed from the car. He leaned against the cool metal as Dean pulled the bags from the backseat. Bobby took Sam's bag before he could reach for it. The three made their way up to the house.

Once inside, there was the usual catching up and sharing of information. Sam sat at the kitchen table and watched it all with a minimal interest. His thoughts were on nothing more complicated than the spare bed in the back room and the bottle of pills at the bottom of his bag. His vision blurred for a moment and his headache increased.

He slowly stood. "I'm going to turn in." Sam grabbed his bag and left the room.

Dean waited until he heard the bedroom door close. "I can't figure it out."

Bobby stood and pulled a couple beers from the refrigerator. He slid one across the table to Dean and popped his own open.

"I've been looking through some things, off of what you told me, but I can't find any reason. Ibex doesn't have any poison or mental influence." He sighed. "No hunter would take that shot. Well, nobody as good as you to are."

Dean took a drink and looked towards the dark window. "It crossed my mind that he might have been aiming at me for some reason, then changed his mind at the last minute."

"Like he was influenced or like he was mad at you?"

"I was thinking influenced somehow. Seems everything out there is after him."

Bobby turned the bottle in his hand for a few moments. "That it does. For his sake, I hope it was just a lucky shot."

Dean nodded and finished his beer.

Sam was asleep, stretched out under the blanket, when Dean slipped into the room. He glanced over at his brother before he slipped under his own blankets.