Um…whoops. Yeah- so I left off a part of chapter 9 by accident when I posted yesterday. Bad Kyriebess! So, um, here's Chapter 9 Part B. It's short- because it's the second half of the previous chapter, but I did add in the beginning of what would have been chapter 10 so that ya'll had more story to read.

Thanks for the great feedback and all the reviews! You guys really make this all worthwhile.

Julie: Thanks for the comments and I'm glad you're enjoying.

BP: I based the blood pressure info. on my brother. He's got major medical issues, but he passes out whenever his diastolic pressure drops below 45. His diastolic pressure hit 30 once and he stopped breathing- so I figured 35 would be a good number to give Sam. According to the American Heart Association- the numbers aren't as important as compared to how different they are from your normal blood pressure and how quickly they vascilate.

Chapter 9 Part B: Settling Emotions…Some More

A day later, both boys once again found themselves checked out of the hospital and back in the motel room. Upon entering the room, Sam laid down on his bed while Dean headed straight for the shower. After a thorough scrubbing, still picking pieces of porcelain off his hair, Dean exited the shower partially dressed and shirtless. Sam looked up from his bed, "You need help?"

Dean turned from where he was fiddling one-handed with the bandages. Without speaking, Dean threw the bandages at his brother who easily caught them. Sam sat up as Dean walked over and sat on Sam's bed.

Gently and with care, Sam applied ointment and the bandages to his brother's gunshot wound. As he worked, he studied the healing flesh; once again guilty that he had caused the damage in his brother. Lost in his reverie, Sam lightly traced the edge of the exit wound with his finger. Immediately goose bumps appeared on Dean's skin and Dean's voice rang out, "Dude! What the hell are you doing back there? Bandage me; don't molest me."

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts and resumed bandaging his brother. He spoke with a voice filled with regret, "Sorry man, I was just thinking about when I shot you."

Dean sighed loudly, "Don't make me come back there and kick your ass Sam. God…you're worse than me."

Sam laughed- worse than Dean when it came to harboring guilt? He doubted that, but his current guilt wasn't solely related to the wound to Dean's shoulder. He sighed, "I shot you before too."

Not understanding, Dean called back to his brother, "How's that?"

Sam exhaled again, glad that he didn't have to look at his brother's face for this conversation. "The hallucination...it was that I shot you."

Dean laughed, "Well, I'd say, 'don't worry, it'd never happen' but…"

Sam affixed the bandage roughly as a response to his brother's joke. Dean winced, but left the smile on his face. Sam continued speaking from behind his brother's back, "I'm serious man. The first night…the hallucination…you showed up, like you did for real two nights ago. That's why I figured it wasn't you, because it wasn't you the first time."

Noticing that his brother had finished the bandaging, Dean got up and carefully put on a shirt. "So you decided to shoot me again?" Dean paused as he contemplated that question, "Wait. If you shot me the first time, then you would have shot the hallucination…the leech would have been visible." He turned towards his brother, "Why didn't you shoot it then?" If Sam had shot the leech the first night, he would have known that the gun wouldn't work.

Sam stared at his brother, he really hadn't wanted to revisit the hallucination, but a part of him did want Dean to know what he had hallucinated. "I didn't shoot you with my gun the first night. I shot you with the colt."

Dean looked startled, "The colt?"

Sam laid back down and shut his eyes, not wanting to see his brother's face as he explained what had happened in the hallucination. When he had finished, he waited for his brother's response. After several moments of silence, Sam began to wonder if Dean was even still in the room or if he had just spilled his guts to no one. Cautiously, Sam opened his eyes.

Dean stood in the same position that he had been in before Sam had begun the tale. Desperately, Sam tried to read his brother's expression to get a sense of what Dean was thinking. However, once again, Dean's face was a blank mask.

Finally Dean seemed to realize that Sam was waiting for a response, "I'm sorry man…that sucks."

Sam stared at Dean in disbelief. That sucks? Well that was the understatement of the year. "That's it? That's all you have to say? 'That sucks'?"

Dean began putting away his dirty clothes, "What do you want me to say? It didn't happen Sam. It was just a hallucination."

Sam thought about Dean's question. What did he want Dean to say? For the most part, he just wanted Dean to say that it was okay…that if the demon was possessing him, it would be ok if Sam used the last bullet to exorcise rather than kill. He had done that with his father and the result was that his father had died anyway and the demon had gotten away. It was a similar scenario to the hallucination and probably where the leech had gotten the idea from. He wanted Dean's reassurance that letting the demon go was okay if it meant saving a life, but there was no way he could ask that. That would be another conversation for another time.

Sensing that he was still being stared at, Dean ceased his ministrations with his bag and turned back to his brother. Sam was still pale, needed a shave, needed a shower and was once again looking as though someone had ran over the cat he had never had. Dean sighed realizing that his brother needed more than to just get the hallucination out in the open. The only thing was, Dean really didn't know what his brother needed to hear. The hallucination hadn't happened and if it were real, it wouldn't have happened that way. If it had been real, Sam would have known where he was aiming and what gun he was shooting with. Forgiveness wasn't necessary in this case; nothing had happened. So what did Sam want? "Sam."

Sam's eyes focused on his brother. Dean continued, "You do get that it never happened?"

Sam looked at the ceiling. The events of the hallucination may never have happened, but very similar events had and the resulting feeling of despair was hard to shake. Despair…he was beginning to hate that feeling. Sam turned to his brother, "Despair."

Dean stared trying to figure out why Sam had just randomly blurted out the name of an emotion.

Sam explained further, "That's what it fed on, despair."

Dean nodded, "You know Feeder's can't see or hear. They're attracted to their victims by sensing the emotion that they feed off of."

Sam looked surprised. He hadn't known that. Dean continued, "I get why…the other night, but what the hell happened the first night that you attracted that thing?"

Sam thought back; that was a good question. What had he been thinking of the other night? Suddenly it hit him and he spoke the answer out loud, "Jess."

Dean nodded. After a beat, he responded. "You still thinking about her non-stop…or did something bring her up?"

Sam looked over at his brother. Dean looked as though he had a theory behind that question, but his face still showed no emotion. "It was the college."

Dean sat on his bed, giving Sam his full attention. Correspondingly, Sam sat himself up and pushed himself back so that he was leaning against the headboard. He played with the leg of his pants as he resumed his explanation, "Being in that bar, seeing all those college girls, it just made me remember, you know?" He paused before speaking again, "It wasn't so long ago that that was me Dean." He looked up at his brother who for the first time seemed to have let a piece of the mask down. Dean looked sad.

Sam didn't wait for him to respond, "We were in a bar like that the last night I was with her…before you came to get me. We were there hanging out with friends. I guess being here, around this college…it just reminded me of how much I missed it…and her."

Dean waited a moment before speaking, "Is that why you didn't want to take the gig in the dorm?"

Sam nodded, looking still looking at his pants. Dean shook his head, "Well, why the hell didn't you just say that?"

Sam looked up, "Because I knew you really wanted to do it and I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't because of me."

Both brothers sat in silence before Dean spoke again, "I'm sorry man. I wish you could've stayed at Stanford, gotten the life you wanted."

Sam looked up, somewhat surprised. Dean gave a half smile at the surprise on Sam's face, "Believe it or not, I want you to be happy dude. It's getting to be rare now-a-days."

Sam smiled, "Thanks man…" Sam looked his brother in the eyes, "Jess used to say the same thing to me."

Now it was Dean's turn to look surprised. Sam explained, "When I was at college, I missed my family. When I'm with my family, I miss college." Sam smiled at his brother, "I guess there's just no pleasing me."

Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head, "I always said you were a pain in the ass Sammy." Dean stood up, picked up the car keys, and walked towards the door. "You want too much man. You need to learn to be happy with what you have while you have it." Dean turned towards his brother, "I gotta buy a new jacket, someone ripped a hole through mine. You need anything?"

Sam shook his head and Dean opened the door to leave. "Hey Dean?"

Dean turned back and Sam met his eyes, "I know I don't always act it, but I know what I have and I appreciate having it."

Escaping the awkwardness, Dean left the room. Sam grinned as he caught the smile on his brother's face before Dean turned around. Dean had understood the underlying meaning behind Sam's words.

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Dean returned to the motel room three hours later, food in hand. He walked in to find Sam asleep on the bed, laptop in hand. Careful not to disturb his brother, Dean quietly set down the food before going over and removing the laptop that was precariously balanced on Sam's lap. Picking up the laptop, Dean couldn't help but look at the screen. It was a page discussing mythological creatures that drained emotions- Feeders, although this website didn't call them that. Dean read through the page, but found no information that they didn't already know.

Dean brought the laptop to the table, so he could do some research while eating his burger. He figured that Sam had been trying to determine why the gun hadn't worked on the Feeder and he was curious about that himself. Dean thought back to the other night. The truly odd thing about what had happened was- it wasn't that the gun didn't work at all, it was that the gun had stopped the hallucination and injured the Feeder, but didn't kill it. That made no sense.

Before embarking on the internet search, Dean rechecked his father's journal. Reading over the page on Feeders, Dean put his finger on the line, 'a bullet made of silver, iron, and fear induced vomit is necessary to reveal the Feeder and ultimately kill it'. Dean closed the journal and put it away; it confirmed his thoughts. Either nothing should have happened, or the Feeder should have died. Opening a search engine, Dean began searching the internet for answers.

An hour later, Dean closed the laptop in frustration. All the internet sites seemed to support his father's assessment; either the bullet kills or it has no effect. Irritated, Dean rubbed his throbbing shoulder…it was time for more pain meds. Dean walked over to his bag and took two of his pain pills. He set Sam's dinner on his brother's bed for when Sam awoke and then changed for sleep. Laying down on his own bed, he looked over at the clock…8:00 pm. Dean cringed. He was going to bed at 8 pm. When had he become so lame?

Dean's own thoughts seemed to answer him, 'Probably when your brother shot you'. He shook the thoughts away. He wasn't mad at Sam for that…okay, maybe he was a little mad, but not necessarily at Sam. The anger was more directed at the fact that he had been shot at all rather than that it was Sam that had done it. In truth, he still felt horribly guilty for leaving Sam alone on the hunt in the first place.

Sam had almost died…twice. And, in addition, Sam had had to live through the demon possessing his brother and himself shooting Dean…twice. Dean shuddered as he remembered his brother's recount of the hallucination as well as seeing the end result of the hallucination for himself. Sam shouldn't have had to go through that, especially since he had asked Dean for help. Dean shook his head at himself; he had to let it go. Harboring his guilt wouldn't help Sam. Unfortunately, letting things go was never Dean's strong point. But being an example for Sam was, and in this case, letting guilt go was something that Sam would need to do; so Dean would have to do it first.

Finding resolve regarding the guilt issue, Dean pushed his guilt aside and turned to the next issue weighing on his mind…Sam hunting solo. The Feeder hunt was still Sam's and it scared Dean to the core. At first it had been a no brainer. Something had hurt Sam- so it was Dean's job to kill it. Sam was injured, weakened, and had lost the battle with the Feeder twice- so it was Dean's job to come in and finish it for his brother. Those conclusions were obvious. They didn't take much thought…but ever since he had heard the dependence and defeat in his brother's voice, Dean had been reconsidering what was best for his brother.

Every instinct in his body screamed at him to take over and kill the Feeder. And the guilt of not being there for Sam further increased Dean's drive to take over the hunt. But hearing Sam's dependency as he thanked Dean for showing up was making Dean rethink his instincts. Sam needed to know that he could do a hunt on his own. Sam needed it. Sam had always been independent, rebellious…it was part of what made him Sam.

Dean had watched a lot of Sammyness die over the years. He had watched his brother lose innocence, trust, admiration, and on some level Dean had even watched him lose his happiness. Dean couldn't watch another part of Sam grow dim. And he knew that this hunt was a make or break moment for his brother.

Understanding the conclusion of his thoughts, Dean closed his eyes and sighed. He was going to have to do the single most difficult thing he had EVER done in his entire life…He was going to have to let Sam hunt alone. The thought scared the shit out of him, which in a way was ironic because it was only three days ago that Dean had sent Sammy off on his own without a second thought. But even though the result would be the same, this time it would be different. Last time Sam went hunting without his brother. This time Sam would hunt solo- with his brother behind him the whole way. That thought gnawing on his mind, Dean turned over and went to sleep. The next few days would be the hardest of his life.

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