The next morning, Dean awoke early. He felt as if he had just gotten to sleep when he was up again, but he was worrying about the visions everyone was having except for himself and Chase. Sam had seen him dying! Why? How? When?
He slowly opened his eyes and glanced around; everyone seemed to still be sleeping. Quietly he crept out of bed and put on a shirt and some shoes. He grabbed his wallet and turned to the door, placing his hand on the knob…
"Dean, where are you going?"
Dean turned around to see Becca looking at him. "Hey, I'm just gonna get some breakfast." He whispered.
"Can I come with?"
"Sure, just try not to wake them up."
Dean glanced at the group sleeping, glad especially that Sam was getting some rest. He never seemed to get much and he hoped his younger brother wasn't just faking it right now.
Becca crawled out of the bed and slid her shoes on. "Okay, let's go."
Dean opened the door and soon they were both walking down the street. There was a food store at the end of the street, and that's where he was headed.
"So, are we okay now?" Dean asked Becca, glancing at her briefly before turning his attention back to where he was going.
Becca took a moment to respond, and then finally said, "Yeah, just don't do that again, okay? It really scared me."
"Look, I'm sorry I scared you, but……just try not to talk about my family…" Dean paused. "My mom." He finished. He kept his attention on where he was going, wanting to get straight to the point that he hated the fact everyone knew what had happened to his family.
"I won't, okay? That was mean of me to do. Let's put it behind us. Deal?" Becca looked up at him and stuck out her hand to shake.

---------------------------

Sam flipped over on his side to face Dean's bed. As he did so, he slowly blinked awake and found the bed empty. Instantly he spun unto his back to get up but just as instantly was thrown into a vision and he couldn't tell if it was real or not. There on the ceiling he saw Dean.
"NO! DEAN!" He yelled, sitting up and crawling to the back of the bed, still looking at the ceiling. "DEAN!"
He fell out of the vision and found Chase awake in her bed a few feet away, but no Dean or Becca anywhere.
"Bec? Dean!"
"Sam!" Chase jumped out of her bed and over to his, placing a hand on his arm. "Sam, calm down. Dean's fine, it's okay. He just went down to the store."
Sam looked at Chase, starting to calm down as she spoke to him soothingly. "The store?"
He'd heard her before, but now he just wanted to be sure. "Thanks, Chase." He said, looking at her again. She probably had a million questions.
Sam sat down calmly on the bed and smiled at Chase. "We've never really had a chance to talk." He said. "Anything you want to know?"
Chase tilted her head at him, giving him a look that clearly said she thought the question came out of left field. She sank back down onto her bed, across from him.
"Well….uh…." She scratched her head. "You said your mother died the same way mine did. Do you have any idea what did that?" She looked at him questioningly.
"All Dean and I know is that it was a powerful demon that is after something. We don't really know what." Sam told her, wishing he could tell her more, but he couldn't.
Chase leaned backwards on the bed and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "So it was a demon." She said, sitting back up. "I'd wondered, but never knew. I started hunting fourteen years after it happened, so I couldn't pick up a trail." She set her chin in her hand, a thoughtful expression on her face. "What about you? Have you had these visions your whole life?"
Sam looked straight at Chase. "They started about a year ago." He took a deep breath. "Originally they were just nightmares, none of them made sense and they weren't clear at all. But then a week before Dean dragged me away from school I had a nightmare about Jess stuck to the roof. Then from that day they became more real and more constant." He said, and Chase nodded, listening.
"But over the last few months they have started to occur even when I'm awake." He added. "Your mother, did she die in your room?"
Chase looked down at her hands. "I don't honestly remember. I was three, after all. I remember I had had a nightmare that night….I've always had nightmares, and my mother had gotten up to check on me….and then I just remember her pinned to the ceiling." She kept her eyes on her hands. "Why do you ask?"
Sam gave her a weak smile; he felt sorry for her that she had to go through the same thing his brother had gone through. "We're working together, so we have to know about each others backgrounds."
He watched Chase a moment; he could tell she was a distant person. He didn't want her to think she had to go through this alone, he knew for a fact that was the worst way to go about doing things.
"How long have you been hunting?" He asked her curiously and she glanced up at him. "Seven years. I started when I was seventeen, doing little things around my town. Not much there, of course, so after I graduated I headed out; left my whole life behind." Chase replied, running a hand through her hair. "How long have you been hunting?"
Sam thought for a moment, and then said, "About a year after our mother died, my dad began training us. Then, when we were old enough, he brought us along on fights and sent us along on others." Sam paused. "Then when I was older I had a fight with our dad because I wanted to go to college." He paused again. "Then last year Dean came up in the middle of the night and it all started again."
Chase gave him a small smile. "So far longer then I have." She glanced at the door. Becca and Dean were still out. She stood up and went to her bag.
"So you don't want this life, then? See, me? I couldn't stand living a normal life. Not when I knew my mother hadn't died naturally." Chase pulled some clothing out, preparing to go take a shower. "It bothered me that my father had tried to live a normal life after that. I wanted to hunt, I wanted to do something. My mother had died pinned to the ceiling, after all, how many people can claim to that?" There was a hint of anger in her voice and she glanced at Sam. "Didn't you ever feel distant from everyone because of what you'd seen?"
Sam shook his head. "I was only six months old when it happened, I don't remember it at all. I don't even know what my mom was like." He said, his voice sad. "This sort of life isn't one that I would wish on anyone, but saving people is what keeps me at it." He looked at Chase and realized that they were two very different people. He didn't mind hunting, but a normal life was high in the ranks in things he always wanted.
"I mean, sure I want revenge on what took my mother away," Sam went on. "But people should have a choice in what they do."
Chase stopped going through her bag and looked at Sam. "I understand the sentiment. My family doesn't know what I do. It's a life I wanted for myself, not for them, and certainly not my younger brother, who was six months at the time as well." She turned back to her bag, going back to pulling out items. "Perhaps if I hadn't lived a normal life all my childhood I would have wanted one, too, I really can't say." She sank down unto the bed after what she'd said, a thoughtful expression on her face. "What about Dean? How does he feel?"
"Dean….he's never had a normal life. Not since he was five, anyway, and he has never wanted one." Sam told Chase. "As much as he hates to show his feelings, he likes saving people." He smiled at the thought of his brother. "Don't say anything, though, he will kill me."
Sam stood up, walking over to the table they'd set the laptop on. "You can have the shower first, if you like."
The corner of Chase's mouth arose into a grin and she picked up her clothing. "Thanks." She walked into the bathroom and in a moment Sam heard the shower turn on. He sat down at the table and pulled out some papers they had collected; police reports on the supposed werewolf and matching them with his recent locations on a map along with full moon dialogs and bear maulings in the area and their times. As Sam looked over the listing, he realized Chase was right. Either the guy was the werewolf, or he had really bad timing for coincidences.
He turned and picked up Chase's journal and some other papers they had picked up on werewolves and began making notes on blank pages in his father's journal. As he read, he came across something of interest.
"Chase, this says werewolves are still people!" He called out loudly to her, hoping she'd hear it over the roar of the shower. "And the werewolf spirit attaches itself to their souls, kind of like a possession." He scanned the page again and heard the shower click off. "Usually it's passed on to the first person bit on the first full moon of the new year."
That meant that if they killed Andrew, they would be killing an innocent human.
"What? What are you saying?" Chase called from the bathroom door. "We can't kill the werewolves and those silver bullets were a waste of money?"
Sam glanced at the bathroom door. "We can kill the werewolves but it will also kill the innocent human inside."
He turned back to the papers and read that sometimes a person would be possessed for years and the werewolf is what was keeping them alive and immortal. Sam turned to the laptop then and flipped it open, searching farther on Andrew. Records on him stopped forty years back…..and then they started about a man named Karl Trebourn, and the file picture, although old, looked exactly like Andrew.
"CHASE…..when you get the time, you need to see this." He called to her and Chase came out of the bathroom then, completely clothed except for bare feet and dripping hair. She walked over to Sam and leaned over his shoulder, looking at what he was reading. Her brows furrowed as she looked at it, and then brightened again. "So the silver bullets weren't a waste."
Sam looked at Chase leaning over his shoulder. "Not exactly, no. My bet is the body is already dead and the werewolf "possession" is the only thing keeping him alive." He smiled. "Tonight's the full moon so I think when Dean and Bec get back we will have to sort out a plan."
Chase nodded, pulling her dripping hair back. "Where are Dean and Becca, anyway? Surely it doesn't take them this long to get breakfast." She sat down on the bed and reached for her boots. "They better not have decided to get a four course breakfast and leave us with donuts." She commented, laughing slightly.
Sam glanced at his watch, also laughing. "Dean wouldn't spring for it. He's probably just taking his time. He does that." He stood up and stretched. "I might go have a quick shower now."
And with that, Sam picked up his bag and walked into the bathroom.