A/N: Voila, chapter 6! Bit fluffy, but I felt it had to be done. Any feedback will be cherished. The next chapter might also not be up for some time; school is torturing me with a variety of tests and such, so sorry if there is a wait!

Beta: The Tribble Master

Chapter 6

About an hour later, Sam returned to the medical facility to find Bobby slumped in his chair, fast asleep, sitting next to the occupied bed containing one sleeping older brother. The machines surrounding Dean, monitoring his vitals, beeped softly, filling the silence in the room. Sam walked closer to the bed, one hand grasping his duffle bag filled with various objects, his laptop bag slung over his shoulder. As he approached the bed however, he realised that Dean looked rather uncomfortable; his face was twisted in a frown, and he turned his head restlessly to one side. Sam frowned in return; Dean was usually a pretty content sleeper; he didn't move around much, and he rarely ever expressed his dreams on his face. As Sam watched, Dean's face began to twitch, and his eyes were moving rapidly under his eyelids. With a start, he shot up, nearly scaring Sam to death.

"Sammy?"

Sam couldn't help but notice the slight way Dean flinched away from Sam, and the way his eyes kept flickering down to Sam's hands, almost as if he expected Sam to be holding something.

"Hey Dean," Sam said softly as he lowered his duffle bag slowly onto the floor. Dean was breathing heavily, but as he shook away the memories of the dream, he seemed to calm down.

"What time is it?" Sam glanced at the luminescent figures on the bedside clock.

"Umm… 3:52," Sam said, sitting down in the remaining free chair. He kept glancing at Dean, who was sitting rather tensely.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Dean seemed to snap out of his thoughts. "Nothing."

"Dean."

Dean groaned inwardly. Sam used that tone. He only used that when he was serious about getting answers. Coupled with that look, Dean had never gained immunity to Sam in the past 23 years. At least he wasn't doing the look yet- oh no, wait, there it was.

"It's nothing, Sam."

Silence.

"Okay, it was just a bad dream!"

Sam frowned.

"What kind of bad dream?"

"It was just… I was sleeping in a motel or something, and you woke me up, and then you said some…. things, and then you…. stabbed me," Dean finished, not looking at Sam. Sam stiffened.

"I stabbed you?"

"It was just a dream, Sammy," Dean said quickly, knowing how quickly Sam jumped to any conclusion that he was a monster. "You're the one with the freaky ESP, not me."

"Yeah…" Sam still looked troubled. Dean sighed, and searched for a topic to distract Sam.

"Hey, so did you find out anything?" Dean asked, gesturing to the laptop.

"Dean, I just got here. I haven't even had a chance to turn it on yet!" Sam protested, grinning in exasperation.

"Well, what are you waiting for then?"

Sam huffed as pulled out his laptop, but a smile still lingered on his lips. Dean sighed inwardly in relief, his plan having gone perfectly.

A few hours later, Dean had fallen into a restless sleep after a long battle of fighting said sleep off. Sam smiled at his stubborn brother, whose head was nestled in his pillow, breathing quietly. He turned his attention back to his laptop, where he had been skimming through various sites. He bent closer to the screen as his eye caught something interesting.

"You've got to be joking me," he muttered softly as he quickly minimized the site and opened up a new page, intent on finding out everything he could.

It was another hour later when Sam was certain that he knew what had happened to Dean. Well, 90% certain, anyway. He quickly rose, and attempted to shake Dean awake.

"Dean. Dean!" he hissed, trying not to wake Bobby, but to no avail; Bobby shot up before Dean even opened his eyes.

"Ah, sorry Bobby, didn't mean to wake you," Sam said, cringing slightly at the thought of the scolding that would follow his unnecessary awakening of Bobby. Sure enough:

"God, you boys have no respect for your elders, do you? Just shouting all over the place, not caring who's asleep…" Bobby continued grumbling under his breath, which woke Dean up.

"Finally!" Sam exclaimed, grabbing his laptop and placing it on Dean's bed. Bobby eyed the laptop suspiciously.

"Are you meant to have that in the room? Won't it mess with the equipment or something?" The two brothers looked at each other before shrugging.

"Nothing's happened yet, so it seems fine," Dean said conclusively, although the effect of his certainty was somewhat diminished when coupled with the sight of him rubbing his eyes and yawning. Bobby shrugged, returning his attention to the agitated Sam, who was fidgeting.

"You need to go potty or something?" He asked Sam jokingly. Sam glared.

"Ha ha, very funny Bobby. Dean, I think I found out what attacked you." He said seriously. Dean and Bobby immediately perked up.

"What is it?" Dean asked, half interested, half afraid. Sam took a deep breath.

"Witches."

"Witches? On great. Come on, witches?!"

Sam nodded grimly.

"Well, that's just great. Why don't I just go drown myself?"

"Hey, easy Dean. What else did you find out, Sam?" Bobby said calmly, placing a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder.

"Ok, so whoever the witches are, they're using a really malevolent form of magic called seiðr. It robs its victims of their sanity, health, and eventually their lives. I think that for some reason or another, they attacked you last night, and even now, they're still plaguing you."

"Er, Sam? I don't see any witches hovering around," Dean said half jokingly.

"They're not physically here. But they are here. In your mind."

"Excuse me? Come again?"

"They somehow infiltrate your mind, your dreams. Those nightmares you've been having? It's them."

"Okay, hold up. Some witches are taking control of my dreams after stabbing me?"

Sam nodded.

"…why?"

"I was reading up on some other cases, and it seems that they eventually make your dreams so bad that you can't go to sleep. You end up slowly going crazy from lack of sleep, but your body also weakens, and that's when they attack."

There was a silence.

"I don't believe it."

"Dean, this isn't a joke!"

"Come on Sammy, witches making people too scared to fall asleep? That's like some weird version of Nightmare on Elm Street. No way it happens."

There was another silence.

"Well, have you had any other nightmares?" Sam asked, somewhat desperately. Dean's face fell.

"No freaking way…"

"What?"

Dean swallowed.

"Before I woke up, I had this… dream. And you were both in it, and so was dad, but you were all the yellow-eyed demon. He just changed from dad to you, Bobby, and then to you, Sam, and then he just started talking and stuff…"

"Talking about what?" Bobby asked, watching Dean carefully.

"Just… he pretended he was Sam, and he just kept saying that… that I was a bad brother," Dean said softly, eyes intently looking anywhere but at Sam and Bobby. The two in question looked at each other, the same worried expression mirrored on both faces.

"It fits the pattern, Dean," Sam said quietly. Dean nodded.

"Yeah… didn't really want to go back to sleep after that."

"So… I guess it's them then."

After another pause:

"What I don't get it why did they stab you and leave you there?" Bobby asked. Sam looked up.

"I read that they need some of the victims blood to have control over their dreams."

"But they could have just killed me then and there. Why go to all this trouble?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

"More fun? I don't know, but that's not the major issue here. We need to find them and stop them before they kill you, Dean."

"That's not going to be easy," Bobby said seriously. "Witches means serious business; they can be nasty pieces of work."

"Don't I know it," Dean muttered. Sam looked at him strangely.

"Why do you hate witches so much? I mean, I know why, but… you really seem to dislike them."

Dean glanced at him.

"Just this hunt in Ohio with a witch… didn't go that well."

Bobby scoffed.

"Didn't go that well? You were half dead when you pulled up at my house. If I hadn't been able to get that healer in time, you wouldn't be here Dean."

Sam looked at the two, eyes wide.

"What happened?"

"Sam, you're like a little kid wanting to hear a bedtime story."

"Am not!" Sam protested indignantly.

"You so are."

"Not!"

"Dude!"

"… shut up." Sam said grumpily, slumping back in his chair. Bobby just shook his head at their antics.

"Well, if you two are finished with your little hissy fit, lets get to work. Sam, you stay here while I go see if there are any possible suspects." Bobby got up to leave, but first looked sternly at the two.

"And if I come back to hear another little argument, mark my words, you'll wish the witches were here!"

Dean and Sam looked at each other after Bobby left.

"Hissy fits?" Sam said indignantly.

"He's lost it," Dean said sadly. He settled back into his pillow, staring at the blinds covering the window.

"Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"What did happen in Ohio?"

Dean sighed.

"It was just a bad hunt, Sammy."

"Did you kill the witch?"

"No. She got away."

Silence fell upon the pair again.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You already know this, but… well, I don't know how long it's been since I've said it, so-"

"Just spit it out, Sam."

Sam took a breath before looking Dean directly in the eyes.

"You're the best big brother anyone could ask for."

And maybe it was a trick of light, but Sam could have sworn he saw a flash of pride and happiness in Dean's eyes, and maybe even the hint of tears; but in a split second it was all gone, and all that was left was Dean smirking at him.

"Going all girly on me, Samantha?"

"Screw you," Sam said playfully. But as he settled back down in his own chair, Sam caught Dean looking at him again, with a look of hope.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean said softly, so softly most people would have missed it. But Sam heard. He always heard.

To Be Continued….