Sam checked the time. An hour or so had passed since he spoke to Bobby. He eyed the limb across the room. Maybe he should burn it. But maybe Bobby should see it first. God dammit! He felt useless.

He jumped as his cell rang.

"You okay Sam?"

"Uh, are you like psychic or somethin' Bobby? I'm going out of my mind here!"

"Sam, come on, it's gonna be fine"

"No! Bobby you don't understand. One of the claws just …….uh…"

"WHAT?"

"I don't know, it just sorta shrunk and…. withdrew or something. Dean's still asleep and I think he's dreaming cos he's kinda agitated, but Bobby the wound is gone! It's completely healed!"

Sam waited for a response from Bobby. He was hoping Bobby would say this was a good sign. All he heard was background driving noise and …well, nothing else really.

"Shit!"

"Bobby - what?"

"Sam, I'll be there as soon as I can. Where is the arm you cut off?."

"Why? Do you know what's going on Bobby? Should I burn it?"

"No! Under no circumstances do anything to it. Just leave it alone til I get there." He was gone.

Sam looked again at the arm. Had it grown? It seemed like there was more of it, or was he just imagining it? Used as he was to all manner of gruesome scenes, for some reason just the thought of that arm sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.

Dean shifted slightly on the bed, one arm flailing briefly and feebly before he went still again. Sam didn't think he had ever seen his brother look so weak and pale. He felt for a pulse and flinched at the feel of Dean's clammy skin. The pulse was there but thready and faint. Dean's chest hardly rose and fell at all, but all the while, his eyes moved constantly under his eyelids.

"Touch him again – go on – I dare you."

Sam wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. The smear of blood didn't surprise him. It wasn't the first time he'd been picked on. Probably wouldn't be the last. He started to gather his books and pens. Time to get out of the way.

Dean squared up to the overweight boy. At 11 years old he was shorter and lighter than the bully, but of course not only could he take this little shit, he was damn well going to.

Dad was so angry. Dean stood cowed before him as his father's words flayed him. He took it though. It was only right. The boy he had punched to the ground had no way of defending himself. And even though he was protecting his brother, it wasn't right to use his training against another human being the way he had. Finally the tirade ended.

"Go to bed Dean."

"Yes sir." Walking away, he stopped and turned.

"Dad?"

John Winchester ran a hand, distractedly, through his hair. He tried so hard, but Dean just didn't seem to get it.

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are son. Just go to bed now alright?"

Dean couldn't fail to pick up on his father's defeated air. He made his way to the room he shared with Sam. Without turning on the light, he climbed, dejectedly into his bed. He lay on his back for a while, but all he could see when he shut his eyes, was his 8 year old brother sprawled on the ground with a split lip and a hurt expression looking up at that bastard who had taken his candy bar. Dean's fists clenched without him even realising.

"Sammy. You awake?"

"No."

"Yeah, you are. You okay?"

"Dean, I'm asleep. Leave me alone. 'kay?"

Sam watched in horrified fascination as a second claw shrivelled and retracted out of his brother's body. Again, the wound healed almost instantly. His eyes shot towards the severed arm. At first he couldn't see anything happening, but eventually it became obvious something hideous was growing out of that disembodied limb.

Fuck! What the hell was going on? He grabbed his cell and shakily called Bobby.

"Sammy, what?"

"The arm! Bobby it's turning into something!"

"Aw goddamit! Right Sammy I need you to listen real careful okay?"

"Sammy?"

"SAMMY!!!"

"Yeah, Bobby, I'm here. Sorry"

"What the hell were you doing? No, nevermind. Look Sam, you said Dean is dreaming?"

"Well yeah, it looks like it."

"I am pretty sure he is manifesting."

"Manifesting? You mean like.."

"Sam we don't have time to have an intellectual discussion about this. You have to keep Dean alive, and you can't do anything to damage that thing growing from the arm. D'ya hear me?"

"Yeah…"

"SAM!!!"

"Uh, yeah, sorry Bobby. Fuck, he's manifesting? But how…"

"Samuel Winchester focus on what I am saying. Keep Dean alive and leave that thing alone. Do You Understand Me?"

"Yes Sir!"

Bobby raised his eyes to the roof of his truck. "John Winchester, you bastard! If you weren't dead I'd shoot you myself!"

"Okay Sam. If there is any way you can get Dean awake, just enough so he stops dreaming. Then do it. If not. Watch TV or something. I'll be there in just over an hour."

"But.."