I'm always very grateful for the comments, so thank you for taking the time.

Chapter Three

Sam had slipped Dean enough of the medication they'd been given to put him out for the night without too much discussion. Sam spent a troubled night himself, but woke and cleaned up with plenty of time to greet Dean with a hearty breakfast. Despite what a grumpy attitude might say; Dean would be hungry. He wouldn't miss two meals in a row.

"What the hell is that smell?" Dean pushed himself up from the pillow. "Is that sausage?"

Sam smiled at his prediction. "Breakfast, you want it in bed or do you want me to help you to the table?"

"I'm not a freakin' invalid, Sam." Dean pushed his legs over the edge of the bed and lurched to his feet. He was immediately overwhelmed and the darkness inside his mind spun, followed by his body.

He might have collapsed onto the bed, but Sam had anticipated as much and was at his side in a heartbeat. "A little slower might be good."

Dean pulled his arm from Sam's grasp. "I'm fine." As he took a step, the vertigo again returned. "Damn it!"

Sam sucked in a deep breath and returned his hand to Dean's elbow. "Dean, for crying out loud. It's not permanent. Let me help you." He didn't allow for a negative response. He propelled Dean forward and pushed him onto a chair. Taking Dean's hand in his, he moved his brother's hand over the plate, letting him feel where the food was. He'd seen it in a movie. "Now eat."

Dean grumbled. He didn't bother to use the fork. He merely grabbed at food with his fingers. "Good thing the eggs are scrambled." After a few minutes 

of silence, he paused and his head drifted around, trying to get a feel for where Sam was.

Sam had been biting his tongue at Dean's eating style. He knew there were just some battles not worth fighting. "I'm to your left." Sam said softly.

Dean pursed his lips for a moment. "Give me your hand."

"You're not done yet. It will get colder."

Dean scowled, the white bandages amplifying the effect. "Give me your hand."

Sam reached out with his good hand. He didn't have the heart to argue.

"No, the other one." Dean demanded.

Sam sighed silently and figured out what Dean was checking on. "It's nothing."

Dean followed Sam's voice and glared through the shield on his face. "Give me your damn hand."

Sam complied. Dean ran his fingers over the bandages on his brother's hand. "What happened?"

"I cut it when I went for the extinguisher." Sam offered, wishing it would be enough. Most days he appreciated his brother's hovering presence. Today he wished he could simply be Dean's brother, not his charge. Times like this, Sam hated his father for committing Dean to his role as protector.

"How bad? Did you have it checked out? How many stitches?"

Sam couldn't help but form a bittersweet smile. "No stitches and yes, it was checked over. It's fine. Worry about yourself." He stopped, knowing it had been the wrong thing to say. Dean wanted a distraction at the moment, not a reminder. He cursed his selfish thoughts.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but didn't. He shoveled a few more bites into his gullet and then stopped again. "So, what's the plan?"

Sam frowned. "What plan?"

"Jeesh! Did you get hit on the head? Where do we continue with this hunt?" Dean wondered if he could make his mouth show the same kind of determination.

Sam shook his head. "Dean, you need to rest. The only plan is to change your bandages and apply the ointment to your burns." He hesitated and then added. "You need to rest. We can't risk permanent injury." I don't want to do this alone.

Dean snorted. "I'm not good to us blind?"

Sam snapped. "That's not going to happen!" He jumped from his chair and grabbed Dean's plate, stuffing it in the garbage. "I'll get the supplies." He reached for the bag of supplies and dropped them on the table in front of Dean. Grabbing the scissors, he began to cut away the upper layer of gauze.

Dean might have been blind, but he could hear the pain in Sam's voice. "It's not your fault, Sam." He was mildly glad he couldn't see the pained expression he knew haunted his kid brother's eyes.

Sam froze. His whole body began to tremble. He struggled to hold his hand steady. "I should have listened." He whispered.

"You did what had to be done, Sammy. We needed all the information we could get. That's why you're the researching geek. It's what you do. I know that." He changed his tone to one more serious. "It wasn't your fault. Even if we had run out of the room the minute I suggested it, it might have still grabbed me."

"Might." Sam said sadly. "Probably not."

Dean knew Sam wouldn't let this go. As frustrating as it would be, he had only one choice. He had to do exactly as the doctor had said. He couldn't risk Sam being scarred more seriously than his face. "So, I'll hang out here and listen to the TV and you'll hit the research gig." His heart pounded at the thought of sitting a battle out.

Sam swallowed and stumbled over his answer. "No. I'll stay here and help you."

"I don't need your help, Sam." He swatted at the air, hoping to hit Sam's hand.

Sam pushed Dean's hand away. "I'm not finished."

Dean sighed. "Seriously, Sammy. You go find a library in this hick town. Do the research and then in a few days, when I'm back in perfect shape, we'll kill this flame-thrower."

Sam nodded. He would force himself to research today in order to please Dean, but as soon as he had a lead, this thing was his. It was going to hell at his hand. He owed Dean that much. "Sure, Dean. Sounds like a plan."

Dean growled. "Don't lie to me Sam. Don't go after this thing by yourself."

"Whatever." Sam finished with Dean's bandage and put the supplies neatly away. He knew Dean was just guessing.

Dean grasped at Sam's hand. "I mean it, Sam. Promise me."

Sam remained silent. There were precious few things he'd been able to hold onto over the years. His word was one of them. He wasn't about to give it now, knowing he had no intention of keeping it. He remained silent, much to Dean's ire.

To further prove his point, he pulled away and disappeared into the room.

Supernatural

Sam had needed a break from his research, so he used the phone book to seek out Gina Holger's address. "Hi, I was just stopping in to see how you are." He stood on her doorstep and smiled.

She pushed the screen door open. "Come in, Sam. I'm good. How's your brother?"

"He's fine thanks. It drives him nuts, but he's doing as well as can be expected."

She pointed to the sofa. "Why don't you have a seat? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Sam waved her off. "I'm fine thanks. I didn't mean to be bother." It was obvious she was nervous and tense.

She sank into the chair across from him. "A bother? You and your brother saved my life yesterday. You couldn't possibly bother me." She grinned 

anxiously. "But, I do have a question. What exactly are you doing here?"

Sam swallowed. His mind searched for a reasonable answer. "Why do you ask?"

"You told Marion Brecht you were investigating the death and you told my cousin you were passing through. Which is it?" She settled in to wait for his answer.

Sam coughed. "We're investigating as we're passing through?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What agency lets brothers be partners?"

Sam fumbled even more. "It's a small agency. Not much attention."

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "You both were pretty calm about the whole thing. You seemed unfazed about the fiery thing attacking us. Is that what brought you here?"

Sam grinned to cover his anxiety at her questions. "You must read a lot of scifi or tabloids."

"It's a small town and a long winter." She leaned back, relaxing a bit. "I don't begin to understand what happened yesterday, but I've kept an extinguisher within arm's reach ever since. My heart starts beating and it hurts to breathe when I think about it. That thing went after me. You seem to be able to do something about it. Can you help me?"

Sam looked away for a few seconds. "I hope so."

"Am I still in danger?" She asked. "Will it come again?"

"I only have theories." Sam fiddled with a loose string on the arm of the sofa. "But it might."

"It came after me because of Hans, didn't it?" She whispered.

"It's possible. It's the only connection I can find." He sat a bit straighter. "What can you tell me about the others?"

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself. This is a small town. Was there a connection between the others?"

She contemplated his question. "Maybe with Jim and Sharon, but Neil wasn't involved with anyone."

"Was there anything suspicious in Neil's past?" Sam pressed. It was obvious she was uncomfortable, but he needed to know.

She thought again. "I really don't know. He kept to himself. He actually found Sharon's body. He rented a room from her."

Sam considered this information. "Had he seen anything?"

She pursed her lips. "I don't know. He… He wasn't sober very often. We didn't pay much attention to him."

Sam nodded.

"I was thinking of leaving town. I have a sister in Montana. I could go visit her. Do you think?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

She shivered and glanced around the room. "I think I'll leave tonight."

He nodded again.

Supernatural

Late that night, Sam returned to the hotel room. He collapsed onto his bed and let his backpack fall to the floor. "I'll go get us dinner. What do you want?"

Dean was lying on his bed, flipping through channels as if he were watching. "I dunno. You look beat. How about we just order a pizza?"

At Dean's comment, Sam groaned and rolled to his side, looking at Dean for the first time. "What in the hell are you wearing?"

Dean looked to the voice in full grin. "Man, you need to get your own eyes checked. You don't recognize sunglasses?"

Sam shook his head. His brother was wearing dark black glasses over his bandages. "Dude." He couldn't even find a comment.

Dean's grin grew. "What can I say, bro. I always look good." He pulled himself up. "So, what did you discover?"

"Agni." Sam stated flatly.

"Agni? What the hell is that?"

Sam sighed and pulled himself up against the headboard. "Agni is the Vedic god of fire."

"Duh!" Dean groused. "What the hell is an Indian god doing in the middle of Idaho? In winter?"

Sam scowled and ignored his brother's remark. "How about this? He's described as having seven fiery tongues and sharpened, golden teeth. He is red in color, with black eyes and wild, black hair. He has seven arms and three legs, and seven rays of light emanate from his body."

"Rays of light? Sure as hell didn't feel like light to me, but it does sound close." He cocked his head to the side and adopted a fake accent. "By George I think you've got it." Dropping the accent, he continued in his normal, but vaguely excited tone. "So, does it say how to kill it? It would suck if we had to drive down south to the ski slopes and haul back a huge chunk of ice to drown it."

Sam smiled, genuinely lightened by his brother's good spirits. "And I suppose we'd have enough time to hang out with a few snow bunnies before we came back?"

Dean grinned. "Ah, snow bunnies. Tell the towns people to carry extinguishers until we get back!"

"In later centuries, he became an incarnation of a Shiva."

Dean's smile faded. "A destroyer of evil?"

Sam nodded. "So far it fits. Brecht was having an affair and Agni comes around to destroy him and Gina."

"Adultery is not evil, Sam." Dean pronounced.

Sam snorted. "You'd better hope not or you're next."

"Hey! I don't commit adultery… that I know of." Dean's tone was indignant.

Sam chuckled. "Well, we do fight the unknown, Dean."

Dean crossed his arms on his chest and growled. "So, we gotta check out the other deaths. Find out if this thing is just going after adulterers or if there's some other evil in their pasts."

"I already did." He rolled his head on his neck. "Gina left town. She'd scared. Before she left, she said it was possible two of the victims were lovers, but the third…"

"It might have been a love triangle?" Dean interjected.

Sam shook his head. "She said he was the town drunk."

Dean smirked. "Alcohol is the root of all evil?"

"I wonder if he saw the Agni." Sam offered.

"So it's covering its tracks?" Dean mused. "That's a bit more scary."

"Thinking evil is harder to fight."

"So you've got nothing else?" Dean pushed.

Sam's face evolved into a smirk. "You're not going to believe me."

Dean's grin grew. "So, I get to be a fireman like Kurt Russell in 'Backdraft?"

Sam shook his head. He had no idea where his brother always found the time to watch as many movies as he did. "Kurt Russell died Dean."

Dean's smile fell. "Well…" He paused. "How about the Duke in "Hell Fighters?"

"He quits at the end." Sam replied.

"Killjoy." Dean growled. "So, what's this unbelievable method?"