Smokey Mountain Inn…

I see the bad moon arising…

Dean opened his eyes. He was lying on a bed staring at a ceiling.

I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightnin…

Moving nothing but his eyes, he scanned the room. He was in their motel room. The clockradio beside the bed happily cranking out tunes.

I see bad times today…

Easing up on his elbows and turning his head toward Sam's bed at the same time, Dean stared at his brother.

Dont go around tonight. Well, its bound to take your life…

Sam stared back with round, wide eyes. Slowly he sat up, gaze traveling the room to come back and rest on Dean.

Theres a bad moon on the rise…

Dean straightened, lifted his hands so they were in front of his face, turning them over, he stared at the uncharred skin. "What's the date?"

I hear hurricanes ablowing. I know the end is coming soon…

Sam leaned over and looked at the clockradio. "The twenty-first."

I fear rivers over flowing. I hear the voice of rage and ruin…

"The diner exploded on the twentieth." Dean watched as Sam slowly nodded.

Dont go around tonight, Well, its bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise…

"Two, one, two, zero." Both of them looked at the clock, then at each other. Eleven-twenty-two. "One, one, two, two." Dean stammered.

"Four two's, three ones and a zero." Sam whispered. "Power is back on."

"You spike the beer with that dream root?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope."

Hope you got your things together. Hope you are quite prepared to die. Looks like we're in for nasty weather…

Dean swallowed thickly and asked, "How you feeling?"

One eye is taken for an eye.

"Fried, but okay."

Dont go around tonight. Well, its bound to take your life…

"How old are you, Sam? Three, five…"

Theres a ba—

Sam's fist slammed into the clockradio. Dean's eyes tracked it as it sailed across the room, splintering into pieces against the far wall.

"Twenty-five and I hate that song."

Dean nodded slowly, "Point taken."

The blaring of a horn and someone shouting from the parking lot drew both sets of eyes to the window. Dean threw back the blankets, was up and moving even as Sam was doing the same. They nearly collided with one another trying to get to the window. Using two fingers, Sam pulled the curtain back far enough for them both to peer outside.

Dean looked up to the sky immediately. In his periphery he saw Sam do the same. Clear blue skies with wispy bits of clouds greeted him.

Beside Dean, Sam sucked in his breath, whispering, "Do you see it?"

"No."

"Me either. It's gone."

"What the—?" Dean turned away when Sam darted across the room. A minute later he was hoping around pulling on jeans and boots.

Sam stopped and spread his arms wide. "You coming?"

"Ye—yeah. Give me a sec."

Sam stood by the door, tapping his foot impatiently while Dean dressed, and stuffed his pistol into his waistband behind his back. "You feel like strangling anyone?"

"Other than you, 'cause you won't put a move on? Not right now." Sam pulled the door open as Dean headed toward it and followed him outside. "Walk or drive?"

Stopping on the sidewalk, Dean took a minute to take in the sights and sounds around him. Sam drew up close beside him, gazing with eyes a bit too wide out at the parking lot, then up and down the street.

"C'mon." Dean tapped Sam's elbow, pressing the fabric of his jacket between two fingers. "Walk."

They headed down the motel sidewalk to the main street, going in the general direction of the diner.

"Dean." Sam voice was low and right in Dean's ear.

"I see them." Three of the missing people from the library, including the woman who'd vanished in front of them, were walking toward them. "Hey," Dean stepped in their path. "Power is back on, is the road open yet?"

The woman eyed him up and down, making Dean want to fidget. The hair along the back of his neck rose, but he kept on smiling at her. "I don't know what you're talking about." She snapped at him and sidestepped around him. "Why does everyone come to Tennessee and think they need to go on a drinking bender?" She said to her friends.

Dean turned on his toes to watch them pass. Sam's mouth dropped open, he snapped it shut when his gaze left the three people and jerked to meet Dean's. "They act like nothing happened." Sam exhaled the words more than spoke them.

Nodding, Dean gave a quick tug on Sam's arm. "Let's check out the diner."

As they walked they saw that the town looked perfectly normal. No bodies littering the streets, no shops with their windows broken out and the merchandise looted. Cars previously stalled and left abandoned, were now being driven through the streets, music flowing from the windows. Televisions in an electronics store played a movie, no emergency news reports. No stories of the end of the world or some disaster.

Malcolm's Kitchen…

The diner wasn't as packed as it'd been on their previous trips through, but considering it was lunch time, the place was pleasantly busy. Sam's fingers clamping down on Dean's forearm stopped him from following the instructions of the sign reading Seat Yourself Please. Sam tipped his head to the counter, to two men seated there, having a lively discussion over their lunch.

It was Knifeman and Mr. Baseball Bat.

Dean felt Sam's sharp intake of breath. Knifeman still wore a sport's jersey with the numbers two two, and Mr. Baseball Bat wore one with the numbers one zero. Each held a utensil in one hand resting on the counter, the utensils' handles sticking up, one one. They were the only two people seated along that section of the counter, their reflections obvious in the cooler behind it. Two two.

Sam's breath was warm, his voice shaky against the side of Dean's head as he mumbled, "Three ones, a zero and four two's."

They edged closer, listening to the men's conversation.

"No way, I'm telling you Chuck, the Indians are going all the way this year to the Series, I can feel it." Knifeman thumped his fist on the counter for effect.

Mr. Baseball Bat laughed, threw his head back and bellowed out a hearty, cheerful sound. "Well, I can sure use the extra money. Wanna bet on that?"

Dean glanced back at Sam; the look on Sam's face reflected his thoughts. Sure didn't sound like terrorist attacks and the end of the world. Giving Sam a slight shove in the direction of an empty booth, Dean slid in across from his brother.

"Hi there."

Dean looked up, barely able to cover his surprise when he found himself looking into Kathy's face. "H-hi."

Across from him Sam gulped, but said nothing.

"Gosh, thanks so much for last night, changing my tire. I just couldn't afford a tow-truck right now." She set two glasses of water down, and some orange juice in front of Sam. "Here, I brought you this, good for your sugar levels." Tapping Sam's shoulder, she smiled kindly at him. "Are you feeling better today? Sorry I didn't get to properly meet you. Your brother here said you had a bug or something."

"Ye-yeah, I'm good, better, thanks." Sam's eyes skittered for barely a few seconds from Dean's face, shifted to Kathy's then back to Dean again.

"Maybe next time don't sit by the guardrail if you're gonna pass out though. Scared us all half to death. Good thing your brother has good reflexes."

Sam smiled up at her. "Yes." His gaze dropped to the table top when she smiled back. "Thanks."

"Lunch is on me, guys," Menus were dropped in front of each of them. "Let me know when you're ready."

"Will do. Give us a few, okay?" Dean fumbled with the menu. "Got coffee?"

"Sure thing, be right back."

"It wasn't last night you changed her tire, it was two nights ago." Sam leaned forward, hissing the words out.

"What's going on here, Sam?"

His answer was Sam shaking his head enough that his bangs flopped over his eyes.

"Any voices?" Dean swirled two fingers near his head.

Another shake of Sam's head.

"So, what do we have? No more gray barrier in the sky, everyone is back and seeming fine and normal, power is back."

"That's about—" When Sam closed his mouth mid-sentence and went completely still, attention now focused on the door, Dean twisted in his seat for a look at the diner's entrance.

Peter stopped just inside the doorway, nodded to them before making his way to his mother. They watched him hug her, exchange some words Dean couldn't hear before he made his way to their table.

The boy kept his eyes on Sam. There was still a spark of antagonism from Peter. Dean turned to Sam. His brother looked back placidly. No glare that read intent to kill, but there was no warmth either. Sam looked anything but at ease. His posture read wary, his eyes guarded.

Peter stood next to their table, halfway between each of them. Dean suppressed a shiver and shoved away the sudden thought Sam was on the opposite of the booth, all the way over there, unprotected and alone. Sam didn't move when Peter spent a few seconds looking at him, but he tensed and straightened.

Turning to Dean, Peter motioned back to the rest of the diner. "You didn't forget."

It wasn't a question, but Dean shook his head no anyway.

"Peter." Kathy came up behind her son. "Don't bother the customers." She looked from Dean to Sam and back again. "Sorry. What can I get you?" She put one hand on Peter's shoulder, moving him away from their table. "I'll be home in a few hours."

"Yes, mom." Casting one last look at them, and letting his gaze linger a bit longer than necessary on Sam, Dean thought, Peter turned and left the diner.

They were silent while they waited for lunch and while they ate. Kathy brought the order ticket with their food, and the check with PAID scrawled over the top. Dean pulled it closer, Sam leaned over to see. Taking a deep breath, Dean closed his eyes for a few beats, then flipped it around for Sam to see. His brother's reaction was to press his lips to a tight line and lean back, scanning the diner for a minute.

Their lunch total was twelve ten, one, two, one, zero. Kathy's employee number, written along the bottom of the check was two-one-two-two. Four two's a zero and three ones.

"We need to leave." Sam said finally.

Dean was in total agreement.

Smokey Mountain Inn…

They were within sight of their motel room and car when Sam spoke again. "Dean, I can't shake the feeling it was me."

He stayed quiet until the keycard slipped through the lock and the door opened. "It wasn't, Sam. The numbers are still here, and you're fine now. I think it was because of you I could see the barrier."

"How so?" Sam followed him inside their room.

"If you weren't with me or if you were asleep I couldn't see it. The sky didn't look right, and I knew it was there, but I couldn't see it."

"That proves it."

Shoving his belongings into his duffel, and throwing Sam's at him, Dean finished before he stopped, stood in the middle of the room rock still and stared down Sam. "No. It does not. It proves that whatever happened here wasn't completely masked from you, and because of you it wasn't completely masked from me."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes."

"But—"

"There is no but. You did not cause this. I know, Sam, I know."

Sam visibly relaxed, then wilted to the bed. He sat on the end, elbow braced against one knee, forehead held in his palm. Dean moved forward, stood beside him, and laid one hand on Sam's shoulder. His heart bled when he felt how Sam trembled. Stupid kid actually believed he'd done this.

"This caused what happened to you, not the other way around. End of story," he spat out, giving Sam's shoulder a squeeze.

Head lifting so his eyes met Dean's, Sam gave him a small smile and a nod.

They quietly loaded up their car and climbed inside. Ernie's truck pulling alongside them and honking the horn as Dean was backing out of the parking space stopped them. Dean was out, greeting Ernie at once, Sam followed more slowly and stayed on his side of the Impala, keeping it between himself and Ernie.

"How much have you seen?" Ernie shook Dean's hand warmly. He smiled softly and nodded to Sam.

"We walked to the diner. Peter's family is back." Sam leaned on the roof of the car as he spoke.

"Everything seems back to normal." Dean added.

"How about you?" Ernie was watching Sam with a bit too much interest for Dean's liking. A definite feeling of unease wormed its way through his chest and down his gut.

Sam's eyes flitted to Dean's before he looked squarely at Ernie. "I'm better. Thanks."

"Good. I'm glad." Ernie paused, sighed and looked out to the road before turning back to them. "I sure have no idea what went on here. I think I'm getting out of here for a while."

Something in how Ernie's gaze settled on Sam again briefly, then shifted to Dean, made him want to back away. Instead he straightened and stiffened enough to project an aura of confidence he hoped meant neither he nor Sam would be intimidated. The real question was, intimidated by what?

Breaking eye contact with Ernie and turning to Sam, at the same time tapping the roof of the car, Dean smirked. "Sounds like the best advice I've gotten in a while."

"Yeah." Sam agreed and ducked into the car.

Relief rushed over Dean as soon as he was inside the car, the door pulled closed. Glancing over at Sam, "You feel that too?"

"Think he knows something?"

Shaking his head a bit, "Hell, Sam, I have no clue. This whole thing has been nothing but screwed up from the start. I honestly don't know what to think about much right now." Starting the car engine, Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

Taking the same road out of town on which they'd first seen the gray barrier, Dean guided the car off to the side and cut the engine. He and Sam sat there, staring at the countryside and road cutting through it. They watched as a few cars drove by, none vanished when they reached the spot where the barrier had been.

"If this wasn't from my head, then from where?" Sam asked softly.

"I don't know, Sammy. I doubt if you'd been in anyway responsible for this, and you were not, anyone other than me would remember it." Starting the car, Dean maneuvered back to the road. They both held their breath as they drove past the invisible line where the barrier had been.

A few miles passed in silence before Sam hit the dashboard and blurted out, "Because they got in the way!"

"Huh?"

"Peter said that when we were in Ernie's bunker."

"So?"

"Why would he say that?"

Dean opened his mouth and shut it again. In truth he'd thought it an odd thing to say, and it'd been nagging at him since, but there was no connection he could make between what the boy had said and anything else.

"Remember in that cabin, the night…just before Dad…when he was..."

"No, Sam." Dean didn't mean to snap, but he did. "I forgot all about it." When Sam huffed and flipped around to stare out the front windshield, mouth pressed firmly shut, Dean pushed against his shoulder and aimed an angry glare at him. "Sammy, come on. What?"

"When Yellow Eyes had, was possessing Dad, he said those exact words about Mom and Jess, they had to die because they got in the way. When I was at Cold Oak, Yellow Eyes said the same thing to me. Mom and Jess had to die because they got in the way."

Dean shot his brother another look, this time Sam turned and looked back. "You think Peter was possessed?"

Sam's face fell. "We have to go back. Dean turn the car around, we have to go back. What if he's still possessed?"

"He's not, Sam. He never was." Dean gripped the steering wheel and focused on the road in front of him. "No one there was." His voice was low, soft and guilty.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam stopped suddenly, sucked in a breath and twisted far enough to face Dean completely. His hand landed on Dean's arm and gripped hard. "Dean?"

He had no idea how to say this, how to explain, so he just jumped in feet first. "I can still see them."

"You can see them? Like that night, like before? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Not exactly like before, but I can tell if there is a demon in someone. I can tell them apart." Dean shrugged, "What's the big deal anyway? Bobby knew Meg was possessed, he even seemed a bit annoyed neither of us could tell. He knew right away when you were too. I mean, it's gonna be darn helpful."

"The big deal is you didn't bother to tell me? You told Ruby you couldn't tell anymore."

"It never came up." Dean shouted. When Sam flinched Dean took a few deep breaths, gripped the steering wheel harder to stop the shaking of his hands. "I guess I lied to Ruby. Look, I was going to tell you, I never intended to keep it from you, but Sam, you've…that whole year, and since, it's been hard on you and I know that, and you're—"

"I'm what? Crazy? Not to be trusted? Some dangerous monster?"

"NO! Stop that shit. Right now. Stop it! I mean it Sam, once more and I'll beat it out of you. I never said that, I never thought that, not once, not ever. But you haven't been the most emotionally steady person lately, and I didn't want to freak you out. Honestly, I didn't think it was that big a deal. Other people who have never been to Hell can tell if someone is possessed. You think I don't get how hard that whole year was for you?"

"It was hard for you too." Sam said quietly.

Dean's anger scaled back. "It was hard for us both. I didn't want to dump this on you. I didn't want to freak you out and make it worse." He took a few more deep breaths. "Back there, in that town…Sammy what happened to you…it scared me. I don't think you're crazy. But, I do think that you, that both of us, need more time. We need to deal with things as they come. Not try and do it all at once."

Sam sat quietly after that, seeming to close in on himself, eyes tilted toward the window, shoulders slouched. Dean wasn't sure if the silence was an act of concession, or if Sam was tempering his gut reaction to what was said, but as the miles passed and Sam remained silent, Dean knew they were done for now. Dean wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He'd give it a day or two and a few more miles from Cutter's Landing before attacking the subject again.

A Motel Somewhere In Kentucky…

Sam was quiet for most the rest of the ride. Dean didn't stop until they were well out of Tennessee. He didn't even know what the name of the town was, it didn't matter anyway. What did matter was with every mile put between them and Cutter's Landing, Sam's mind calmed. His thoughts began to sort out and make sense.

He couldn't be too angry at Dean for keeping his new found demon sighting ability to himself. There were things, one important one in particular, Sam hadn't told Dean. So much time had gone by now, he had no idea how to even begin. Being honest with himself, it wasn't the fact he'd not told Dean everything that bothered him. It was how Dean might react.

Pushing the thoughts aside, Sam slid from the car and trailed behind Dean up some steps to a motel room.

While Dean headed for the shower, Sam sat at the table and booted up his laptop. Another truth was he'd missed using his computer. When Dean finally finished and traipsed across the room, toweling his hair dry, Sam stood and moved, stopping in front of his brother. A hand to Dean's chest brought Dean up short. He looked at Sam, eyebrows raised.

"They're still there, aren't they?"

Dean swallowed roughly and nodded. "You see them now?"

"No." Sam whispered, shaking his head and pulling his hand away. "But I can feel them," he thumped a finger against his own chest. "In here."

Sam couldn't be too angry with Dean because even though the voices had stopped and Sam felt more in control of himself than he had in a while, there were still the numbers. Maybe none of this ever happened, maybe it was in his head. Maybe Sam was still lying in a caretaker's shack in a cemetery in Wyoming, dying of exposure, alcohol, and hypothermia. Maybe Dean never came back and this reality was nothing but illusion.

The numbers swirled through the air, circled Dean. Others were on everything he looked at. Those Dean saw too, Sam knew he did. Even when he was finally able to sleep that night, the same numbers flitted through his dreams. If this was illusion Sam was keeping it, his brother here with him.

Dean moving about the room, making his normal amount of noise brought Sam awake. Sun came through the windows, and there was nothing odd going on.

"Hey, morning sunshine. I was about to go for the ice water, you really zonked out."

Sam squinted at the clock, it was just after ten. "Why didn't you wake me?"

Dean shrugged, and tied his boots. "I went and paid for another night, figured we'd hang here for a day or two." He reached across the space between the beds, slapping Sam's shoulder. "Hungry? I'm starved and been waiting on your ass."

Mouth hanging slightly open, Sam watched as Dean moved to the dresser, spent a few seconds rifling through his wallet. "You okay, Sammy?"

Dean didn't look at him, but Sam saw how his shoulders tensed.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Pretty hungry actually."

Turning, Dean smiled broadly at him. "Good. Get dressed and let's go eat."

As Dean moved about the room the numbers surrounding him rearranged and spread out. It was starting to make sense. "Do you mind bringing breakfast back here?" He scrambled out of bed. Across the room in a few steps, Sam had his laptop out and was pulling notes and books from his duffel. "I have an idea. I want to get it put together, make it make sense."

The smile slipped from Dean's face. He stood in the middle of the room, watching Sam.

"I just need a bit of time to organize. I'll show you everything. Please?" Sam had to get all his ducks lined up and all his facts straight or Dean wouldn't believe him. This was big, spelled in caps big, and Sam had to be sure. Ideas were shooting through his mind faster than he could catch them, and he needed so very desperately to catch them.

One of the thoughts that didn't flit away was he was real, Dean was real, the world was real.

"Sam?"

"I'll be right here. I promise. Don't let them burn my bacon, I hate when it's so freaking crispy it blows off the plate."

That got him a genuine smile from Dean, the kind that warmed Sam through and through. "Alright. I won't be long." Dean stopped next to Sam long enough to ruff his hair a bit before pulling on his jacket and heading to the door.

Sam sat and watched Dean walk through the door, numbers following him then fading away. Sam saw what they were now. He simply had to make Dean see too.

As soon as the sound of the Impala's engine moving away hit Sam's ears, he got to work. He'd make Dean see. Dean was real. Sam finally had something for them to work on, work with.

Everything was clear to Sam now.

Everything was crystal clear.

song lyrics: Bad Moon Rising by Creedence Clearwater Revival

A/N: One more chapter to go, thanks to everyone for reading. The next in the series is titled Colt&Winchester and is cowritten with Sojourner84 and will be posted under her name. -- Laura