Sam woke up on a soft bed aching all over. He tried to turn his head but found that he could hardly move it at all. "Dean?" he whispered "Am I dead?" he muttered to himself. Dean woke up at the sound of Sam's voice, he had been sleeping on the bed next to Sam.

"Sammy!" he said sitting up, "You're totally and 100% alive!"

Sam breathed a sigh of relief, "What happened? Where am I? How long was I out?" he asked, he remembered being snogged by Mindy then everything had gone fuzzy and then black.

"How much do you remember?"

"Remember, getting jumped, getting t..." he breathed "tortured, then you and dad came, th-then... a vampire tried to eat my face. That's all."

He pulled up a chair by Sam's bed and ran his hand through Sam's hair, he noticed how Sam hadn't mentioned the shifter yet, "Well I finished your exorcism, beheaded your girlfriend and stabbed myself."

"She tried to eat my face."

"Kissing, aggressive kissing."

Sam sighed "You stabbed yourself?" he reverted back to the main topic.

"Not me exactly, it was a shifter."

"Oh..."

There was a knock at the door and John walked in with the doctor, "Sam." his face lit up "You're awake."

"Hey dad." he noticed the doctor and instantly tensed up.

"It's all right Sammy," Dean assured him "That's Doc Carl. He fixed you up pretty good."

Sam looked down at himself, he was wearing only his underwear and his body was covered in gauze and bandages, he looked like an Egyptian mummy. "Oh, thanks. Where are my pants?"

"In the bin, they looked like they'd been attacked by a... well, by a vampire."

"You got beat up real bad kid, but you're on the mend now. You were out for three days." the doctor told him.

"Three... three days?" Dean nodded and Sam looked at the wall sadly, he couldn't move his head very far thanks to the gauze on his neck wounds.

"One think I can't heal is this though." the doctor moved the covers back and lightly tapped the burn on his chest. "Do you know what it is?"

Both Dean and John replied no in unison and all eyes turned expectantly towards Sam, "I don't... I've never seen it before." he looked at the weird 'Z' shaped symbol and shook his head in small movements. "Just let me get to my computer and I'll find it."

"Stay where you are. I'll get it for you." Dean replied.

"What happened to your head?" Sam asked noticing a jagged scar running across his brother's forehead.

"Nothing, I'm fine." he said and left the room to find Sam's laptop, the Doctor Carl followed wanting to let Sam have some time with his dad.

John filled the seat that Dean had just vacated, "How're you doing Sam?"

He looked at his father, he wanted to blame this on him "Fine." he said at last.

John twiddled his thumbs, "Right." he got up to leave but sat down again, "I'm sorry. This was my fault."

"No... it wasn't." he said even though he did feel like it was his dad's fault for dragging him into this. "I should have checked the salt line."

John smiled sadly and shook his head, the kid would always find a way to blame it on himself. "It's alright." he stood up and headed towards the door, "Sorry Sammy." he said and left.

Sam relaxed into the pillows and took a few moments to steady his breathing. He rolled over onto his front ignoring the protests of his sore body and lay face down in the pillow, he never could get to sleep lying on his back.

The next day after a heated argument with his dad Sam had managed to persuade them to get back on the road. Dean had picked up their stuff from the motel and shoved it into the trunk of the Impala. Sam sat in the passenger seat with his head resting against the window. He just watched the road and the blurred scenery as they drove behind their dad.

"Dean." he said after a while, "I don't want to do this anymore. I just want to settle down in one place, finish high school and go to college. No normal sixteen year old would ever have had to go through that. So why can't I just have a normal life?"

"It's what we do, we can't ever have a normal life. They'll keep killing people and it's our job to stop them. This would've happened even if you weren't a hunter. Everything knows that we're dad's weak spot."

Sam sighed, "Yeah... you're probably right."

Dean chuckled "Yes I am."

"Shut up.

Dean laughed and gave Sam a lopsided grin. Sam's fingers absent mindedly traced the Zoroastrian 'Z' on his chest. Whatever it meant, it was nothing good.

"So any leads on that thing?" Dean asked breaking the silence, he couldn't get over the fact that Sam had seen Dean do that to him, even if it wasn't the real Dean.

Sam shook his head "Nothing. I'll just dig a bit deeper." Dean could sense the hostility in his kid brother's voice. It sounded like Sam couldn't forget seeing it either.

"You know Dad's just going to keep dragging our asses around looking for another hunt, especially seeing as you don't have to go back to school for another couple of weeks."

Sam sighed "I don't want to go on a hunt. I was unconscious for three days!"

"I know, but it's dad. We gotta do what he wants." John's truck pulled into a motel car park and Dean parked the Impala next to it. All three of them got out of their cars and walked, or in Sam's case, limped towards the reception. There was a weedy looking guy sitting at his desk chair with his head buried in a Spiderman comic. Dean rung the bell a few times to get his attention.

"Whaddaya want?" the desk clerk said and eventually looked up from his book.

"Two rooms." John said.

"One single and a king or three singles?"

"Three singles." Dean said quickly.

"Right you are." he fished out a couple of keys from under the desk. "They're just down the hall on the left. Five and Six."

"Thanks." Dean took the keys and sauntered down the hall. Once they were in they began salting the doors and windows. Sam just lay on the bed grumbling about teeth with his head planted in a pillow. Their father walked into their room once he had laid down the salt lines.

"You okay Sammy?" he asked and gently placed a hand on his youngest son's shoulder, Sam flinched at the touch, "Sorry." he realised he was touching one of the many bite marks.

"'S fine, me shleep" Sam gurgled through the pillow.

"He said sleep." Dean clarified for his father.

"Right, yes." John nodded sensing that Sam wanted to be left alone, "Dean, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes sir." he got up from the slightly unpleasantly green bed and followed his father to the door, he glanced back at Sam, unwilling to let the kid out of his sight for more than a second. He followed his father into his room, it was very much the same, same revolting green duvet cover and peeling beige walls. "Why do we always pick the best motels to hole up in?" he said with a detectable note of sarcasm.

"The symbol on Sam's chest."

"What about it?"

"It's Zoroastrian."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" he flopped down onto a chair, exasperated.

"I need you to find out what it means, but don't tell Sam, tell me first."

"Yes sir."