Motel room, 10:01PM.

I walked into the motel room, finding Dean sitting at the table, reading through Dad's journal, while Sam sat on one of the beds, talking to someone on the phone. Dean nodded at me as I placed the beers he'd sent me for down on the table, tossing the bag in the trash. "No, Dad was in California last we heard from him." Sam was saying on the phone. "We just thought, he comes to you sometimes, maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks.. Just, call us if you hear anything, thanks, Caleb." He finished before hanging up the phone with a frustrated sigh.

"Caleb hasn't heard from him?" I asked as he dropped the phone down beside him on the bed.

"Nope," He answered. "And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim." He turned to Dean. "What about the journal?" He asked. "Any leads in there?"

Dean shook his head. "No, same as the last time I looked." He muttered. "Nothing I can make out.. I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda."

"You know, maybe we should call the Feds." Sam suggested. "File a missing person's."

"We've talked about this." Dean countered. "Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail."

"I don't care anymore." Sam replied simply.

Dean sighed, glancing across to the other side of the room as his phone rang. "Maxie, get that for me, will you?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "You're so lazy, you know that?" I muttered, getting up and going through the pile of clothes he'd left on the bed, looking for his phone.

"After all that happened back in Kansas," Sam went on at him. "I mean, he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and, nothing."

"I know!" Dean snapped, raising his voice slightly.

"You know, he could be dead for all we know." Sam argued.

I looked up at him at that, not a comment I expected would go down well with Dean. "Don't say that!" He almost shouted. "He's not dead. He's - he's.." Dean trailed off, clearly struggling for an answer.

"He's what?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "He's hiding? He's busy?"

I found Dean's phone, flipping it open and looking at the text message; saying nothing but '42,-89'. I frowned a little, reading it a couple of times before it sank in. "Huh, I don't believe it." I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else.

"What is it?" Sam pressed curiously, momentarily forgetting his argument with Dean.

Dean got to his feet, crossing the room to me and looking down over my shoulder at the phone. "Is that.." He took the phone and looked down at it. "It's coordinates." He said, looking from me to Sam slowly.

"Coordinates?" Sam repeated, looking between us for more information. "From who?"

Dean just looked at him for a second. "Well, who else are they gonna be from?" He asked simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, wasting no time in moving back to the table and opening Sam's laptop.

"Dad?" He pressed, looking slightly skeptical at the thought. Dean nodded, glancing back at the phone for a second before he began typing something on the laptop. "You think Dad was texting us?" Sam pressed, sounding skeptical.

Dean didn't look away from the screen, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "He's given us coordinates before." He reasoned.

Sam shook his head. "The man can barely work a toaster, Dean."

"Sam," Dean snapped. "It's good news. It means he's okay, or, alive at least."

Sam sighed. "Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"

"Nah," Dean shook his head slowly. "It said unknown."

Sam now really didn't look convinced. "Well, where do the coordinates point?"

"That's the interesting part." Dean answered, frowning at the laptops screen. "Rockford, Illinois."

"Okay, and that's interesting how?"

"I just checked the local Rockford paper, take a look at this." He turned the laptop around slightly to show me and Sam. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out." He explained. I looked over the news article, getting the general story of what Dean was saying. "And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

"Okay, I'm not following." Sam answered. "What has this got to do with us?"

"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal, let's see.." He paused and pulled it towards himself. "Here." He pointed to the top of one of the pages. "Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths - till last week at least.. I think this is where he wants us to go." He finished.

Sam snorted, taking a step back and shaking his head. "This is a job." He said simply. "Dad wants us to work a job."

Dean shrugged. "Well, maybe we'll meet up with him?" He suggested. "Maybe he's there."

"And maybe he's not," Sam countered. "I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."

"Who cares?" Dean muttered, closing the laptop forcefully. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!"

"This doesn't strike you as weird?" Sam frowned. "The texting? The coordinates?"

"Sam!" Dean finally lost his battle of keeping his voice down, his patience clearly short. "Dad's telling us to go somewhere, we're going." Sam only shook his head, looking beyond annoyed, and sighed deeply.

The next day.

Dean pulled over the Impala outside of the Asylum, the three of us climbing out and looking up at it. I sighed as Dean took a step forwards and jumped over the tall fence around it, following his lead and landing beside him. Sam did the same before we headed over towards the doors. Dean pushed it open, heading inside first, followed my me and then Sam. "So, apparently the cops chased the kids here," Sam spoke up, gesturing to a sign above some double doors. "Into the South wing."

"South wing, huh?" Dean repeated slowly. "Wait a minute," He pulled out Dad's journal and flipped through a few pages. "1972, three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

"So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it." Sam concluded.

"But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a bunch more deaths?" Dean frowned, looking back to the journal.

Sam looked around slowly, his eyes stopping at the broken chain around the door handles. "Looks like the doors are usually chained," He stated. "Could've been chained up for years."

Dean took a step forwards and nodded. "Yeah, to keep people out."

"Or to keep something in." I added lightly.

Sam glanced down at me for a second before he slowly pushed open the doors to a long, dark hallway. We headed through, walking down it slowly. "Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel." Dean smirked at Sam.

Sam shook his head. "Dude, enough." He answered flatly.

"I'm serious." Dean insisted. "You've gotta be careful, alright? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on."

"I told you, it's not ESP." Sam muttered. "I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams."

"Yeah, whatever." Dean shook his head a little. "Don't ask, don't tell."

He glanced down at the EMF meter in Dean's hands. "You get any reading on that thing or not?" Sam pressed, clearly wanting to change the subject.

Dean shook his head. "Nope." He shrugged. "Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home."

"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day." Sam reasoned.

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night." Dean smirked. "Hey, Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic; Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?"

Sam only shoved Dean in the back of the shoulder as he laughed. We headed into one of the rooms, it was dark and dusty, looking like there hadn't been anyone inside it in years. Dean let out a low whistle as he walked further inside, glancing around the different objects around the room slowly. "Man, electro-shock, lobotomies, they did some twisted stuff to these people.." He paused and turned to me with a grin. "Kinda like our man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest." He added, making crazy eyes.

I let out a laugh and shook my head, Sam rolling his eyes at us. "So, whaddaya think?" I asked. "Ghosts possessing people?"

"Maybe." Sam shrugged. "Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting."

"Spirits driving them insane." Dean said, nodding his head slowly.

"Kinda like our man Jack in The Shining." I smirked at him. Dean laughed, turning back to Sam who just looked at us.

"When are we going to talk about it?" Sam said flatly, looking more towards Dean's direction than mine.

Dean frowned. "Talk about what?"

"About the fact that Dad's not here." He said, a serious look on his face.

"Oh," Dean nodded slowly. "Let me see, uh, how about never." He muttered.

Sam sighed deeply. "I'm being serious," He went on. "He sent us here-"

"So am I, Sam." Dean cut him off. "Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here, we'll pick up the search later."

"It doesn't matter what he wants." Sam stated. I shook my head and sighed, so sick of watching the argue like this.

"See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie." Dean responded, I assumed in an attempt to try and lighten Sam's mood. An attempt which clearly failed.

"Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him." He persisted. "We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about."

"I understand that, Sam." Dean retorted. "But he's given us an order."

"So what," He frowned. "We gotta always follow Dad's orders?"

"Of course we do." Sam looked nothing but frustrated, clearly ready to carry it on. Dean stared at him for a few seconds before he turned away, ending the conversation. I watched him pick up an old sign, wiping off the dust with his fingertips. "Sanford Ellicott," He read. "You know what we gotta do - we gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened there." He said, turning and shoving the sign into Sam's hands before he walked out of the room, clearly still annoyed.

Asylum, 11:45PM.

That night, we headed back to the Asylum. Sam pushed open the door, a video camera and a flashlight in his hands, Dean and I behind him. "Getting readings?" He pressed, glancing back at the EMF meter in Dean's hands.

Dean nodded. "Yeah," He answered. "Big time."

Sam glanced back at the video camera in his hand. "This place is orbing like crazy." He commented, his voice low.

"Probably multiple spirits out and about." Dean reasoned, looking around us slowly.

Sam nodded. "And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting,"

"We gotta find them and burn them." Dean finished for him. "Just be careful, though, the only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit, is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer." He muttered.

We walked further on, so far seeing nothing there at all. I was aimlessly wandering around one of the small hospital rooms, not even sure what I was looking for, when I heard a small bang behind me. "Guys!" Sam suddenly yelled from outside of the room. Dean and I looked between each other, Dean pulling a gun out of his bag as we ran towards him. There was a woman, white-haired and one bloody eye practically hanging out of her face, moving towards him slowly.

"Sam, get down!" Dean yelled.

Sam hit the floor just as Dean shot the woman, her body vanishing. He slowly got to his feet again, looking around slowly. "That was weird." He said slowly.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, finally lowering the gun. "You're telling me."

"No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack me." Sam said slowly.

"Looked pretty aggro from where I was standing." Dean muttered flatly, turning to leave the room.

She didn't hurt me." Sam continued. "She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?"

Dean shrugged. "Alright, you know what, let's split up." Sam just looked at him. "This place is huge, we have no idea what's going on and a bunch of unrecovered bodies to find, we'd get that done faster by splitting up. "

Sam sighed, nodding his head slowly. "Alright, fine." He muttered, turning and heading off in another direction.

"You two are driving me friggin' insane, you know that?" I muttered, watching him go. Dean turned to face me and frowned. "Whatever it is that's got you at each other's throats like this, you need to sort it out, before it gets any worse than it already is." With that I picked up a gun from the bag and took a step back. "I'll see you later." I said, turning and walking away.

I stopped where I was in the middle of one of the hallways of the Asylum, for a second thinking that I'd heard someone shouting. I paused, taking a breath and getting a better grip on my gun, shaking my head to myself as I carried on. I headed around a corner, crashing straight into something hard. I jumped back, pointing my gun straight at them, looking up to have a gun pointed straight at my own face in the hands of Dean. He took a breath as he realised it was me, both of us lowering our guns. "Jesus, Max." He breathed out, punching me lightly in the shoulder. "Don't do that." I laughed lightly, shaking my head, glancing between him and the young girl standing next to him. "Oh, this is Kat." He said simply, shooting me one of those 'people are morons' looks. "She's looking for her boyfriend." He commented, glancing back at her for a second.

"Hey." She said lightly, giving a small smile. Dean just carried on walking, me beside him and Kat slightly behind us. "Gavin?" She called out, looking around slowly. "Gavin?!"

Dean sighed, turning back to face her. "I got a question for ya," He said simply. "You've seen a lot of horror movies, yeah?"

She frowned, looking a little confused. "Uh, I guess so." She shrugged.

Dean nodded. "Do me a favor, next time you see one, pay attention." He said lightly. "When someone says a place is haunted, don't go in." He turned and carried on walking both our flashlights beginning to flicker and fade. "Son of a bitch." He muttered, shaking it slightly before shoving it back to his pocket. "It's alright, I got a lighter."

"Ow." Kat hissed. "You're hurting my arm."

"What are you talking about?" We both turned around to her, realising that we were too far apart to be touching her. I glanced down, seeing a disembodied hand clutching to her arm. Before she had a chance to react at all, she was dragged backwards into a room, the metal door slamming closed behind her.

We ran towards it, making an attempt at opening it but getting nowhere. Kat banged against the door from the other side but it wouldn't budge. "Lemme out!" She pleaded, banging against it harder. "Please!"

"Kat, hang on!" I yelled back as Dean picked up a metal pipe, giving me a slight shrug before he tried again to open it. The banging seemed to calm slightly before it stopped completely. After a few seconds, Kat screamed, a loud terrified scream.

"What's going on?" I turned as Sam came running towards us, a teenage guy, I assumed Kat's boyfriend right behind him.

"Is that Kat?" The guy said, looking more than a little freaked out.

"She's inside with one of them." Dean said quietly, taking a step back from the door.

Sam took a step towards the door, listening intently. "Kat, it's not going to hurt you, listen to me. You've got to face it." He called. "You've got to calm down."

I turned to Sam, my eyes wide. "She's gotta what?"

"I have to what?!" Kat shouted through the door.

"These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it. It's the only way to get out of there."

"No!" She shouted back.

Sam sighed. "Look at it, come on. You can do it."

We stood there for a few seconds, none of us saying anything. "Kat?" Gavin eventually called, getting no answer.

"Man, I hope you're right about this." Dean muttered.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, me too."

Suddenly, the lock clicked on the door before it opened slowly, revealing Kat standing in the doorway. Sam passed her and walked into the room, looking around quickly before turning back to us and shaking his head slowly. "One thirty-seven." She mumbled.

Dean frowned at her. "Sorry?"

"It whispered in my ear, one thirty-seven." She said slowly.

Dean, Sam and I looked between each other. "Room number." We all said at the same time.

We took a few steps away from them where we couldn't be heard. "Alright," Sam began. "So, if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone,"

"Then what are they trying to do?" Dean asked.

"Maybe that's what they're trying to tell us." He muttered.

Dean nodded. "I guess we'll find out." He said, turning back to Kat and Gavin. "Alright, are you guys ready to leave this place?"

They both nodded quickly. "That's an understatement." Kat said.

"Okay." Dean turned to Sam. "You get them outta here. I'm going to go find room 137. Maxie, you wanna stick with Sam?" He added, handing me a gun. I nodded slowly, watching him turn and head off down the hallway.

The four of us walked quickly down the hallway, heading towards the exit. "So, how do you guys know about all this ghost stuff?" Kat asked curiously, looking up at Sam.

Sam glanced back at me for a second before turning his attention back to her. "It's kinda our job." He answered simply.

Kat shook her head. "Why would anyone want a job like that?" She asked quietly.

Sam huffed a laugh. "I had a crappy guidance counselor." He muttered sarcastically.

"And Dean?" She pressed. "He's your boss?"

I groaned inwardly at the look on Sam's face. "No." He said flatly, neither of them saying anything else about it as we got to the door.

Sam tugged on the handle, finding it locked. He frowned and tried another one, finding that was locked, too. "Alright," He began calmly, turning back to face us. "I think we have a small problem."

"Then break it down." Gavin said simply, clearly becoming inpatient.

"I don't think that's gonna work." Sam muttered.

"Then a window." He suggested.

Kat shook her head. "They're barred." She said quietly.

"Then how are we supposed to get out?!" Gavin pressed, a look of fear on his face.

"That's the point." Sam said, looking back to me. "We're not. There's something in here, and it doesn't want us to leave."

"Those patients." Kat said, looking around slowly.

"No," Sam shook his head. "Something else."

"Alright," I said calmly, looking up and down slowly. "Sam, you try and find another way of getting them out of here, I'm gonna go find Dean."

"Wait, I don't think you should go wandering off alone." He said, not looking at all happy with the plan.

"Look, Sammy, if there's something in here, then the faster we find it the better." I gave him a small shrug, taking a step back. "Besides, I'll be fine. Trust me."

Sam sighed heavily and nodded at me. "Be careful, Max." He said sternly. "I mean it."

I walked through the halls of the asylum until I came to a stop at one of the doors, finding Dean sitting in a chair reading through what looked like an old journal, a concerned frown on his face. "Well, all work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy." He muttered to himself, apparently not having noticed I'd been standing there.

"Dude," Dean jumped, turning sharply to look at me and letting out a breath. I laughed to myself and walked further into the room. "You know, sitting alone in a mental asylum reading books and chatting to yourself doesn't really give off a convincing image of sanity, bro." Dean just rolled his eyes at me, a small smirk playing on his face. "You find anything good?"

"Define good." He muttered, giving the journal a slight shake. "I found his log book. Apparently he was doing a little experimenting on his patients, like really awful stuff.. Makes lobotomies look like a coupla asprin."

"Yikes." I commented, raising an eyebrow. "So, where does that get us? I mean, wasn't it the patients who were rioting?"

"Yeah, they were rioting against Dr. Ellicott." He answered. "Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it, instead it only made them worse and angrier and angrier." I looked up at him, thinking through what he was saying. "So, I'm thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal."

"Well, if that's true, then we gotta find Sam, before he does." I said slowly. "We gotta find his bones." Dean nodded, closing the journal and dropping it to the floor. "But I thought they'd never found a body? Where the hell are we supposed to look?"

"Well, the log book said he had some sort of procedure room down here, somewhere he'd work on his patients." He said, getting to his feet with a sigh. "So, if I were a patient, I'd drag his ass down there, do a little work on him myself."

"Alright, we gotta find this room then." Dean nodded and lead the way to the door, pausing in the hallway and looking up and down. "You go that way, I'll go this way." I said, pulling my gun from the back of my jeans and turning to head off down the hall.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean grabbed me around the arm and pulled me back. "You seriously think you're wandering off in a haunted mental asylum on your own?" He shook his head slowly. "No way in hell."

"Dean, I'll be fine." I gave him a small smile, taking a step back. "Look, we need to find Sam, and his bones. I promise I'll scream if anything goes wrong." I added lightly, turning away from him and walking off.

"That's not funny, Max!" He called after me before I heard him sigh and head off in the other direction.

I walked for a few minutes, absolutely no idea where I was, pausing when I heard the sound of people talking in the distance. I headed down the hallway, following the voices as they came gradually louder. I turned the corner, jumping back at the sound of a gunshot, the plaster of the wall crumbling beside me. "Damn it," I muttered, mostly to myself. "Don't shoot, alright? It's just me." I called, getting to my feet and taking a breath. I shook my head to myself as I turned the corner, glancing back at the marks left in the wall. "What are you still doing here? Where's Sam?" I pressed, looking between Kat and Gavin slowly.

"Sam went to the basement." Gavin answered, a frown forming on his face. "He said Dean called him from down there, that was about five minutes ago." He paused for a second, the two of them looking between each other. "Except, since then, Dean's been back here, and he said he'd never called him at all."

I nodded slowly, guaranteed I wasn't going to like this. "Basement, huh?" They both nodded slowly. "Alright, watch yourselves." I muttered, turning away from them and heading down the hallway. "And watch out for me!" I called back over my shoulder.

I turned the corner, pulling out my phone and calling Dean's number, sighing deeply as he didn't answer. And the only reason that Dean wouldn't answer his phone on a hunt was if he was in trouble. I headed down some stairs, pulling my torch from my back pocket as it became gradually darker, looking around slowly. I broke into a run at the sound of a gunshot, running through the door and stopping dead in my tracks. Dean was lying on the ground, looking like he was struggling for his breath, a pained frown on his face. Sam stood over him, a gun in his hand, glaring down at him. "Sam?" I looked between them slowly, completely lost.

"We've gotta burn Ellicott's bones," Dean groaned, making an attempt to sit up again. "Then this will all be over, and you'll be back to normal."

Sam scoffed. "I am normal." He said flatly. "I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? 'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little soldier? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?"

Dean looked lost for words, Sam just looked angry. I moved further into the room, standing beside Dean, raising my hands slightly, not really wanting to be shot by Sam. "Sammy," I pressed quietly. "This isn't you talking." I knew for a fact, whether that was what he really thought or not, I didn't know, but I knew that the real Sam, the Sam without a scrambled brain, would never say anything like that to Dean.

Sam shook his head, his attention moving from Dean to me. "Don't you start." He muttered. "You're just as bad as he is, Max." He said, pointing down at Dean with his gun. "Can't you see that? You follow Dean around with the same blind obedience that he has for Dad." He slowly shook his head. "You see, that's the difference between the three of us. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you two."

"So what are you gonna do, huh?" Dean pressed. "Are you gonna kill us?"

"You know what, I am so sick of doing what you tell me to do." Sam snapped. "We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago."

"Well, then here. Let me make it easier for you." He reached into his jeans and pulled out his gun, holding it up to Sam. "Come on." He pushed. "Take it. Real bullets are gonna work a hell of a lot better than rock salt."

I looked down at him, my eyes wide. I couldn't believe what he was saying. "What the hell are you doing?" I muttered.

Dean just ignored me, his eyes fixed solely on Sam. "Take it!" He yelled. Sam hesitated for a few seconds before reaching out and grabbing the gun from him, pointing it right at his head. "You hate me that much?" Dean said quietly. Whether he was faking this or not, I wasn't sure anymore, but there was something in his voice that sounded hurt either way. "You think you could kill your own brother?" He paused, Sam saying nothing. "Then go ahead, pull the trigger."

"Sam, put the gun down, right now." I took a step forwards, practically holding my breath in fear.

"Do it!" Dean yelled. Sam didn't move for a couple of seconds before he pulled the trigger. My heart stopped at the sound of it, a deep breath coming out when it registered that there had been no gun shot with it. He tried again, and then again, nothing happening. Dean made a sudden movement, punching him hard around the face and knocking Sam to the ground. He struggled to get up himself and took a step towards him. "Man, I'm not going to give you a loaded pistol." He said casually. Sam just stared up at him until Dean delivered a vicious right cross to knock him flat out, almost falling over himself as he did. "Sorry, Sammy." He said to him quietly, patting him on the shoulder as he straightened himself up again. He looked up at me and shook his head slowly. "Right, we gotta find these bones, before anyone else gets zapped with the crazy." He muttered. I nodded, turning around and beginning to look through some large cupboards on one side of the room, hearing Dean banging around behind me. "Oh, that's just gross." He suddenly muttered.

I turned, seeing what he was getting at. Out of the small cupboard he'd opened, a mummified corpse had fallen out slightly, the awful smell filling the small room. He pulled a container of salt from his jacket and began throwing it over the body, followed by spraying lighter fluid over it. I glanced down as the torch I was still holding flickered slightly. "Uh, Dean." I pressed.

He turned to me, out of nowhere a table flying across the room and hitting him straight on, knocking him to the floor. Dr. Ellicott appeared out of nowhere, grabbing his face as his hands lit up. "Don't be afraid," He said to him quietly. "I'm going to help you.. I'm going to make you all better."

I made a move for Dean's bag, finding his lighter and going unnoticed as I flicked it on and tossed it at the body. The Doctor let go of Dean as his remains began to burn, the ghost turning black and falling to the ground with a thud, crumbling with the impact. Before either of us could say anything, Sam let out a pained groan from the other side of the room as he woke up, flexing his jaw painfully. "You're not going to try to kill us, are ya?" Dean asked lightly.

Sam pushed his jaw lightly with his hand, shaking his head. "No."

Dean nodded. "Good." He muttered. "Because that would be awkward."

The five of us headed outside of the asylum, into the sunlight. "Thanks, guys." Kat said, looking between the three of us with a smile.

Gavin nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

"No more haunted asylums, okay?" Dean said lightly. They both gave a small nod before turning and walking away.

We watched as they walked off towards their car, all of us turning to the Impala. "Hey, guys?" Sam pressed. Dean and I both turned to look at him, there was an uncomfortable frown on his face. "I'm sorry, guys, I said some awful things back there, to both of you."

Dean looked down for a second, then to me, and then back to Sam. "You remember all that?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded slowly. "It's like, I couldn't control it.. But I didn't mean it, any of it."

Dean just looked at him. "You didn't, huh?"

Sam frowned. "No, of course not." He said flatly. "Do we need to talk about this?"

Dean made a move towards the car, pulling open the door. "No," He muttered. "I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood, I just wanna get some sleep." Sam sighed, clearly not happy, but climbed into the car anyway, not saying a word about it.

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