Ok, here's the deal. My family's planning on camping this weekend. I don't really want to go, but I might not have a choice. We don't own a laptop. I might not be able to update until Monday. Just be prepared for that.

In other news, this is my favorite chapter of the story, so I hope you like it :)

"So, does it hurt?"

Dean looked up from his map of the area. "Does what hurt?"

"You know," Sam tried to explain, feeling his face redden as he realized that it was probably a private matter. He struggled to find a nice way to say it, but finally gave up and chose instead to curl his fingers into claws and bare his teeth. "Grrr."

Dean chuckled. "Grrr?" Sammy nodded, face getting even redder. "You're serious?" Another nod. "Um, kind of. You know, bones rearranging, hair busting out where it really shouldn't, teeth getting all sharp, ears moving up the side of my head. That kinda thing. Yeah, it hurts."

"Oh. Ok."

"Why?"

Sam shrugged. "Just wondering."

Dean stopped what he was doing and turned to face his brother, who was busily typing away at the laptop, searching for possible cures. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Stop blaming yourself for this. It my own stupid fault I let the thing pounce on me."

"Yeah, but you are all alone."

"So were you. Last night."

"No, I wasn't. You were there. You were watching me the whole time. I felt your eyes on me. You saved me. I could have saved you."

"Dude, nothing can save me. I'm too far gone."

"That's not true."

"Look, Sam, really, it's cool," Dean said, "there are perks."

"Like what? Hairballs?"

"That's cats. No, I'm talking night vision. Even when I'm not man's best friend. It's wicked. And the strength is just crazy. And the speed, and the agility. The stamina. Man, it's awesome. And my doggy senses."

"Doggy senses?"

"Yeah," the elder nodded, "you know, like smell and hearing and stuff. It's how I knew you were in the woods. You smell rank."

"Gee, thanks, Dean."

"I'm serious, though, Sammy. If there were more hunters out there like me, we'd get the jobs done a lot faster. I mean, look at my face."

Sam nodded. "Yes, it's very pretty." Then he actually looked. The scars that had been there that morning were gone. "Holy-"

"Yeah. Like you said, regenerative abilities. I nearly got my arm ripped off me last week, passed out in the car, and when I woke up it was fine. And the tolerance for pain is incredible. I actually broke my leg about a month back and it barely twitched. 'Course, it was fine a couple of days later."

"That's, uh…"

"Cool, right? So it's not all bad. Actually, if you can get past the whole 'cursed to be a monster forever' thing, it's pretty neat. I've gotten used to it."

Sam searched his brother for signs of a lie, but didn't find any. "So, what's the plan?"

"We head out tonight before sunset. Go into the forest together. I'll track the thing down, you shoot it."

"Then you should be all right."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Dean smiled, "like I said, it's a long-shot. Only a theory."

"Dad's never been wrong before."

"Yeah, well… after that, I guess we can pack up and head out. I've been watching a possible poltergeist in Iowa for the past week or so. It started acting up when the family remodeled the house. They're scared to go in, and they hate to sell it after all the work they've put in. I figure it's worth checking out." He looked over at Sam and flashed a confident grin.

Sam looked back at the laptop. "Dean," he began softly, "I can't stay with you."

"Why not?"

"I've got to get back to school."

"But I thought-"

"I'm gonna help you get rid of the wolf and sever the bloodline. After that, you can go back to hunting with dad."

"I don't know where he is."

"You'll find him."

Silence fell in the room for a while, leaving both brothers alone with their thoughts. "Is it really that great?" Dean finally asked, "that school of yours?"

"Yeah," Sam grinned, thinking of his friends and straight A's and that girl in his dorm that had been eyeing him for a little under a month, "yeah, it is."

"Maybe I could go back with you?"

Sam let out a bark of laughter. "Right. Because Stanford admits high school drop-outs." He turned to his brother, still smiling, but found that the gesture wasn't returned. In fact, Dean was staring at him with a hurt expression. "You're serious?"

"We could get an apartment off-campus," Dean explained, his eyes hopeful once again, "I could get a job. You could go to school. We could be a family."

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. I just kind of need to get away. From everything. It wouldn't work out."

"Your precious friends would never have to know," the elder argued, his voice rising, eyes flashing dangerously, "I could leave when you want to have them over. It's no problem."

"Can we just focus on the hunt? Whatever happens after, happens."

"You didn't miss me?"

Sam sighed, turning back to his laptop and choosing to ignore the whispered question. The truth was, he wasn't sure.