Author's Note: That got a much better reaction than I was expecting. ;-)

For the record – this isn't going to be very long. Five chapters is what I have in mind. But, if it's any consolation, there are a couple of longer stories to come after that. (And in the meantime… is anyone else going crazy with the lack of Supernatural this week? It's just plain mean to do this to us when we know what's coming in the finale.)

Thanks to Cheryl for the help!

A shout out to the reviewers: criminally charmed, Sparkiebunny, ami, TinTin11, yenneffer, The Lilac Elf of Lothlorien, BranchSuper, Yami Faerie, Scribble2Much, SandyDee84, mrs winchester and twomom.

Disclaimer: Nothing's mine.

Chapter II: Guilty

"It fits." Sam's eyes flickered to the motel room clock and Dean followed his gaze. Four in the afternoon: they had eight hours. Sam shook his head and went back to looking at his laptop screen. "Though we won't know for sure without speaking to the families."

"What've you found?"

"I've got thirteen possible incidents involving people with older siblings over the past nine weeks… Some of them will be just random accidents, I guess. And there might be some that didn't make the papers. Five of them, there's evidence that the person who died knew one of the seizure victims."

"That's not a lot to go on."

"It's all we've got."

"So what do we do now?"

"Here." Sam shifted the laptop so Dean could see it. "Three possible incidents since the last seizure. One girl knocked over by a bus while crossing a street – she's alive in the local PICU. One boy who had a severe reaction to peanut oil in his school cafeteria. The school nurse got to him in time, so he's OK. Made the news because that school's already got a couple of marks against it. And this – another hiking accident, a bear got someone. Well, they think it was a bear; there were no witnesses. Victim was found mauled."

"You do realize it could be something else entirely?" Dean said. "Something that didn't make the papers?"

"Yes, but we have to work with what we've got. We need to talk to the families."

"We're sticking together – no, don't even think about arguing, Sam. It's not open for discussion."

Dean was better with young boys than Sam was.

It was the one kind of witness he was better with (well, unless you counted hot women who liked some action). Old ladies (and not-so-old ladies) and little girls all adored Sam and older men thought he was just the kind of guy they wanted their daughters to marry, but boys… Boys got on with Dean.

So when they went to see the boy with the peanut allergy, Dean was the one who did the talking.

It didn't take long to get the story tumbling out of him.

His name was Tyler Humes. He had a big sister, and she was normally pretty cool. Ever since their parents' divorce, their mother had to work two shifts to keep the house running, so his sister was the one who took care of him, made sure he got his meals and clothes and schoolbooks.

Dean could feel Sam's eyes boring into his back.

Tyler usually got on well with his sister – well, they fought, but everyone fought sometimes, right? But things had been rough in the past few weeks. Alice was stressed out over her SAT scores and college applications, and Tyler had to admit that he hadn't exactly made things easy. And then Dad had called and that was always difficult to deal with… Anyway, they'd fought and he'd said he couldn't wait for her to leave for college and she'd said – well, but he hadn't really meant it. He didn't think she'd meant what she'd said, either. He'd miss her when she went away. He hadn't spoken to her since the fight because she'd gone on a trip to Canada with her friends the next day. She'd be back in a week.

The peanut thing? Yeah, Tyler didn't get it. He'd tried to explain it to the school nurse, but she hadn't believed him. Tyler knew he was allergic to peanuts and the cafeteria signs always specified ingredients, because a lot of kids were allergic to stuff. He'd seen the sign – he wasn't an idiot. But he hadn't been able to stop himself, it had been like something was controlling him.

Jennifer Carson's mother opened up to Sam in a heartbeat.

Jen was a sweet, gentle girl. She'd never hurt anyone. Wouldn't even swat flies. Yes, of course Jen and her sister were friends – they were twins and they were inseparable. Argue? Well, yes, sometimes they did argue – but much less than siblings usually did. Did Agent Howard have a sibling? Oh, a big brother. Then he'd understand. Beth thought of herself as a big sister even though she was just a few minutes older. (Jen always insisted it didn't count.)

Recently?

Mrs. Carson drew Sam away, out of earshot of her older daughter.

Yes, they had, just before Jen's accident. Beth had made a new friend – Harriet, Mrs. Carson thought her name was. Jen didn't like her. Beth accused Jen of being jealous. It had been a typical argument: they were schoolgirls, Agent Howard knew how it went. Jen said Beth was an idiot and Beth got angry and said a lot she probably didn't mean. Normally they would have made it up a few hours later, but then Jen had stepped out into the street in front of that truck –

No, Beth wouldn't speak to anyone about it. She hadn't said a word. Thank God Jen was going to be all right: if Jen had died in that accident, she would have ended up losing both her daughters.

Sam asked if he could speak to Beth.

Beth burst into tears as soon as he mentioned the accident.

Sam gave her a tissue and waited.

It all came tumbling out a few minutes later. Mrs. Carson looked like she didn't know whether to be angry with Sam for upsetting her daughter or grateful to him for finally getting her to talk, and Dean stood awkwardly in the background. He was obviously uncomfortable with the sobbing teenager, and it would save time if he looked at the inpatient records while Sam was talking to Beth Carson, but he'd already announced that he wasn't leaving Sam alone.

When Beth could finally get words out, it was clear both that she cared about her sister and that she was being eaten up by guilt – and she refused to let Sam comfort her. Yes, it was true that it had been an accident, and yes, it was true that Jen should have looked before stepping into the street, but that didn't make it any less Beth's fault.

Sam, suppressing a sigh and a sense of déjà vu, asked how it was her fault.

She had upset Jen. She'd said such things – she'd said she wished Harriet had been her sister instead of Jennifer. If she hadn't said all that, Jen might not have been distracted, she might not have been brooding, she might have stopped to look at the road before trying to cross it. And she hadn't meant any of them but Jen wasn't waking up, and what if Beth never got a chance to tell her she was sorry? What in Jen died thinking Beth had meant –

Beth, suddenly realizing that she was crying into the shirt of a perfect stranger, blushed and drew back, apologizing.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean hissed as they left the hospital. "First Tyler Humes's father, and now this Harriet person. And we haven't even gone to see the bear dude's family yet." Sam frowned, but didn't answer. "Sam?" Dean prodded.

"Yeah," Sam mumbled. "Doesn't make sense, does it? Thirteen incidents – sixteen if you add these three. Makes you wonder…"

"What?"

"Whether there's more than one thing at work here." A pause, and then he went on. "It makes sense, Dean. We're looking at two totally different MOs. One goes for younger siblings right after a fight and causes a mishap that usually isn't fatal. The other seems to go for the person responsible for the fight – but it doesn't attack all of them, it restricts itself to one per week. Always the same thing, always fatal."

"Right. And we have two possible victims tonight – a third if we turn something up at the next place. And those are only the ones we know about. How do we figure out where it's going to hit?"

"We don't. There's no point, Dean – there's no way we can stop the seizures once they start, and medical aid has been useless against this thing so far. We have to find the thing and get rid of it."

"How?"

"Timothy Munroe," Sam said. "He was the first victim. It has to be tied to him."

"What, you think that girl who had a hiking accident…"

Sam hesitated and then shook his head. "No. Her grandmother described her as gentle and kind – she couldn't have turned rogue so soon. She might've killed Timothy for revenge, but not all the others."

"You don't know that. The grandmother might've been lying. We salt and burn Abbie first, and then we track down whatever the other thing is. And until we have it, Sam, you don't go anywhere on your own, you don't do anything on your own, and you don't eat anything except what I give you myself."

"Dean, I can –"

"No. Look what happened to that kid with the peanut oil. You're staying where I can see you. You know where Abbie's buried?"

"The grandmother told me."

"Good. Let's go."

It wasn't hard to find the grave. Dean dug while Sam held the flashlight.

Dean was three feet down when Abbie's ghost appeared.

The spirit didn't attack Dean or throw him around or do anything to him, which was unexpected. Ghosts normally didn't like being forced across to the other side, and they did everything they could to stop it happening.

On the other hand… Maybe this was a smarter ghost than most, because it slipped silently behind Sam instead, and Dean promptly stopped his work to yell a warning to his brother.

Sam turned and fired; the spirit dissipated, but reappeared at his shoulder.

"Sammy, down!"

Sam hit the ground just as Dean's salt round tore through the air where his head had been. By the time he'd pushed himself up the ghost was back, hand on his arm as though trying to help him get to his feet.

"Dean, wait!" Sam said, as Dean raised his gun to fire again. "I think she just wants to say something."

"Yeah, well, if she hurts you, I'm going to –"

"I think she knows that. She's not trying to hurt me." Sam got to his feet, slowly, eyes on Abbie's ghost. She seemed to be saying something but Dean couldn't hear. He started to get closer, but the spirit promptly retreated behind Sam.

"Dean, it's OK. She's just… showing me stuff."

Dean waited.

Ten minutes later, Abbie's ghost vanished, and Sam fell heavily to his knees.

"Sam!" Dean scrambled out of the hole he'd dug. "Sammy, c'mon. You OK?" He grabbed Sam's arm and tried to pull him to his feet. His brother was deadweight. "Sam! What's wrong?"

"I'm fine. Just… Give me a minute."

"Yeah, OK. Take a minute. Take ten minutes."

Dean dropped to his knees next to Sam – he had to; it was the only way to keep the Sasquatch from falling the rest of the way – and managed not to complain when Sam slumped against him, head going down on Dean's shoulder.

It was a couple of minutes before Sam moved.

He lifted his head and let Dean tug him upright, still leaning on his brother for support.

"You want to tell me what that was about, Sam?" Dean asked.

"Abbie's doing it," Sam said. "But she's not trying to hurt people. She's trying to stop the other thing. She didn't realize that she was killing the people it was possessing."

"But, dude, the thing seems to be possessing the younger siblings who have accidents. Why is Abbie killing random people?"

"Spell." Sam lurched away from Dean, just managing to keep his feet. "It possesses the other people and casts a spell of some kind on the siblings. Both of them. Ow." Sam massaged his head. "Abbie can only go after it on Wednesdays at midnight. She hasn't figured out why, but at all other times she's bound either to her grave or to the spot where she died. Wednesdays at midnight she's free for a few minutes and she goes for whoever it possessed most recently. She's not trying to cause the seizures; they're a side-effect of her examining their brains for possession."

"Who's she going for now?"

"Nobody – I think. I tried to tell her we were going to take care of it and she had to stop killing people. I think she got it. Not sure."

"OK, so what exactly is this it and how do we gank it?"

"It's…" Sam heaved a breath. "It's a ghost. Abbie didn't know the story, but from what she could sense, she thought it was a local witchcraft practitioner – I guess that'd explain how the ghost puts spells on people. He and his little brother were attacked by a bear while they were hiking. He tripped on a tree root, sprained his ankle, and couldn't get up. His brother left him and ran."

There was something odd in Sam's voice. Dean couldn't tell what it was, but every instinct he had was screaming at him to take it away.

So he said the only thing he could think of.

"I guess not all big brothers are as lucky as me, huh?"

Sam didn't smile.

"Abbie said his remains are still there – in the forest. The younger brother was so ashamed of himself that he never led anyone back to the spot. He said they'd run in opposite directions and been separated. But Abbie thinks she knows where they are – not far from where she fell."

"Yeah. OK, good. Let's get rid of this thing."

Sam looked startled and the intensity in Dean's voice, and Dean had to admit that he was surprised himself. Although, when he thought about it…

He'd been standing right behind Sam, listening to Elizabeth Carson. Dean understood, in a way that he didn't know if Sam ever could, what it was to feel truly, completely responsible for someone. Sure, Sam was as big as a house now, but there had been a time when he'd been a baby who had needed his big brother for everything. Dean had fed Sammy, bathed him, changed him, held him when he cried and cuddled him while he slept.

Sammy hadn't just been a baby. He'd been Dean's baby.

From what he'd heard, Beth Carson had felt the same way about her sister. Jennifer would live, but that didn't change the fact that she'd been hurt and Beth held herself responsible for that. Sam might never truly understand, but Dean did.

And he was going to find the evil son of a bitch that was doing this and kill it as slowly and painfully as he could.

Dean hiked up the mountain trail, breathing harder than he liked. Thankfully Sam didn't hear him wheeze – or at least he pretended not to – and so Dean could pretend that he was slowing down to enjoy the moonlit view.

He had insisted on taking point. There was no way he was letting his little brother go first on the narrow path. Of course, just to prove that he wasn't turning into a girl, he'd given Sam the equipment to carry. All that muscle had to be useful for something other than freaking people out.

It took a while to find the remains of the missing hiker. Abbie had given Sam a rough guide, but her directions covered a broad swath of the forest. It was closing in on midnight by the time Dean spotted something metallic glinting in the beam of his flashlight.

"Got it," he said, heaving a sigh of relief. "This should be easy. Time to salt and burn."

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