disclaimor: yes! yes! yes! ...oh wait, i was thinking of something else... nope, they aren't mine.

a/n: well, the person that knows about this story still hasn't found it yet, so i'm still a mysterious person. thank you all who reviewed this, and i hope you like this chapter as equal, or more than, the last chapter. i haven't got much to say right now about this chapter. the whole story is already done... has been for a good while. there's only one more chapter after this-- it's not a very long story. though, granted, the next chapter is quite long. i hope you enjoy!

"Sam!" Dean placed a hand on Sam's chest, "Easy man. It's me."

"I know who the hell you are," Sam spoke bitterly, his heart pounding.

He could feel sweat pouring freely down his face and his shirt felt damp. He didn't even have to ask what happened, nor did he have to see to know that his older brother was staring intently at him. He'd had another vision. They'd left the hospital four days earlier and Sam had the same, horrid vision over a dozen times since. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Dean; lifelessly flung at the window. His scream of pain. And Sam not being able to do anything about it. Dean had questioned Sam, of course, about what his dreams were about.

Sam lied and said they were from the night they were in the house with the poltergeist.

"Want me to change the bandages around your eyes?" Dean asked and Sam could feel him pulling the car to the side of the road, "They're pretty sweaty from your," Dean paused and Sam visualized the skeptical look he was getting, "Dream."

Sam remained quiet towards his brother.

"Sammy…" Dean turned off the engine and reached into the backseat to grab a small bag which held their medical supplies, "This has got to stop," slowly he began to unravel the white gauze that was around his little brothers face, "You can be pissed at me all you want. Hell, it was my fricken fault that this happened to you. But at least speak to me! Yell at me, or take a swing at me; I don't care. Just… say something man."

"What do you want me to say?" Sam asked, "I'm blind. I can't see. There's nothing I can do."

Dean knew that was true, but as with every time he changed the bandages around Sam's eyes, he hoped that maybe this time Sam would be able to see something. Sam didn't move at all as Dean carefully pulled back the small wads of cotton that covered the eyes under the gauze.

Dean flinched.

It looked the same way every time, though Dean reacted the same way when he saw it. All around his brothers eyes were a raw red that was peeling in some spots. Small cuts littered the eyelids which were bright pink and swollen partially shut. The first time Dean had cleaned and changed the bandages, he'd talked to Sam, reassuring him and telling him to let him know if it hurt at all. Now, however, Dean knew better than to try and make small talk. Instead he pulled out a small squeeze bottle from the bag which held sterilized water. Dean paused a moment knowing how much this next part hurt Sam.

"Sorry," Dean whispered out the words knowing they'd give no comfort.

Using one finger Dean pulled open the eyelid of Sam's right eye. Sam let out a hiss of pain, and Dean felt him flinch. The eye was almost completely red where it once was white, and what used to show Sam's reflective brown eyes, was now glazed over. There was no doubt in Dean mind that his little brother couldn't see out of it, and trying to limit the amount of pain that Sam was in, he quickly squirted the water into the eye and let it close back on itself. He repeated the same with the other eye, and slowly wrapped back up his brothers face.

Dean replaced the bag into the backseat and waited a moment, staring a Sam who'd moved to face forwards. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam spoke before he could get any words out.

"I'm fine Dean."

"No," Dean weighed out each word carefully, "No, you're not Sam. And frankly, I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried to talk to you, I've tried to be there for you, but you just won't talk to me."

True to his form, Sam remained silent in the passenger seat.

"I've been thinking," Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "Maybe," he swallowed hard, and Dean was startled to find tears welding up in his eyes, "Maybe we should check out West-Ridge."

There was a long pause and Dean held his breath, waiting for Sam to do anything. To move, to breath, to show any sign that he'd heart the words he spoke.

Sam's lips trembled a moment, "Ok."

"Ok?" Dean didn't even try to hide the fact that as the conversation went on he was becoming more and more upset, "Just like that; ok?"

Sam's chest breathed in and out heavily, though Dean knew he wasn't asleep.

"C'mon Sam!" Dean was shocked by his own anger.

"Yes," Sam spoke slowly and solidly, "Just like that."

"That's bull Sam," Dean's voice got louder and louder as he spoke, "Why the hell are you acting this way? What did I do to piss you off so badly that you would rather be at some God damn institute than with me? You're so--!"

"Please," for the first time Sam's voice shook with emotion.

Dean's chest heaved, so many emotions going through him he didn't know if he should cry or punch something. He had been planning on talking to Sam about going to see West-Ridge for nearly a day, though he never expected Sam to readily agree. He'd hoped that it would cause his brother to open up to him, to tell him that no, he'd be ok, and that all he needed was time. That he'd rather be with Dean than go to an institute where he knew no one. Instead, here was Sam telling him that was exactly what he wanted to do.

"Ok," Dean forced his voice calm as he started back up the car, "We'll be there in about two days Sammy."

…

The younger Winchester stared out the window, waiting for Dean to reappear through the downpour. Why couldn't he leave! He had to save Dean! But something was stopping him from being able to leave the car.

"Dean!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs now, "Dean, come back!"

As if in answer to his frantic call, a howl of wind seemed to shake the car. Something was going to happen to Dean! His heart pounding, Sam tried to force his limbs to work, and let him open the door so he could go after him.

"Dean!"

This time a loud scream and three shots answered his call and Sam's head swung towards the drivers side door. Sam wasn't sure how much time passed as silence seemed to envelope him. Not even the rain made sound as he could only stare out the rain slick window.

"Dean…" his voice came out in barely a whisper.

Just as Sam was about to try again in his futile attempt to save his brother, a loud smash came to the left side of the car. Sam's eyes were wide as he saw Dean's lifeless, bloodied body pressed against the window; blood and rain dripping down the cracked surface.

"Dean!" Sam screamed out in horror, "Dean!!"…

Sam gasped, and sat up.

'A dream!' his mind screamed at him, 'It was all a dream!'

With trembling hands, Sam moved his fingers to his face and felt the bandage over his eyes. The dream was becoming more an more intense, and Sam wondered how much more he could take of it. Dean had barely spoken two words to him the previous afternoon after they'd talked about West-Ridge. It was late by the time Dean had pulled into a small, shabby motel, and after he got Sam settled in bed and took a quick shower, the eldest Winchester went to sleep. Sam, however, had forced himself to stay awake as long as possible, knowing exactly what would happen when he'd go to sleep.

And he was right. The dream had re-occurred, and now as he sat up in bed at what he guessed was some time in the early hours of the night, his brotherly instinct told him that Dean was sitting in his own bed staring over at him. Recent days had taught Dean not to say anything after Sam had one of his dreams so instead he'd trained himself to watch silently for any signs that Sam was physically hurting or was in any danger.

An hour went by before Sam spoke into the silence, "What time is it?"

"Just after five," the reply was instant, and Sam almost smiled at the fact that so much relief swept through Dean's voice at the small conversation.

Just after five was good enough for Sam. He'd catch a nap later on, and slowly he got up and worked his way to the end of the bed where he knew Dean had thrown his bag the night before.

"Here," Sam heard Dean jump out of his bed and come over, "I'll help--"

"I don't need your help," suddenly Sam was back to his cold self, and Dean recoiled his hand away from the bag.

Making more of a mess than a two year old, and taking over five minutes, Sam finally managed to get out some fresh cloths and things to freshen up with out of the bag. Moving slowly and shuffling his feet in front of him, Sam made his way to the small bathroom at the far end of the room.

"Leave the door unlocked," Dean called after.

Sam was silent, but made a point of making sure Dean heard him lock the door after closing it firmly behind him. If the younger brother had listened, he would have heard cuss words leaking in from the room which Dean stood in, no doubt getting dressed himself. Nearly twenty minutes later, Sam emerged from the bathroom with jeans and an inside out t-shirt on.

Dean would have laughed if he didn't want to cry so much.

...to be continued

a/n: there was chapter two. hurrah! ok, so not so hurrah. but how do you like the way i ended it? i was trying to decide a good place to end the chapter, and though they're in the middle of a conversation right now, i thought this was a dramatic place. so, review and lemme know your thoughts. i'm in university right now, so i need something to waste my time on when i should be studying. thanks!