Well, it's taken awhile but here it is. The second chapter, all clean and shiny.

For those of you who are reading not only this but also my other fic, Swimming in the Smoke, I might have to discontinue it. I know, I know, but I just can't think of anything. It's like the story's deliberately keeping me out of the loop or something.

So Swimming in the Smoke is put on hiatus. (Which may or may not last forever.)

Ow. I can feel the glares and bloodlust all the way over here. Ow! Jeez, I'm sorry . . .

You can't have my immortal soul. Here, have a chapter instead.

Dean opened his eyes.

He studied the empty bed beside his with a bleary gaze.

"Been waiting for you to wake up, brother. A good book can't last forever."

Dean pushed himself up from his stomach and looked at Benny, who was sitting in the chair by the table. "How long?"

Benny shrugged. "Since you last woke up? I'd say three hours."

He got unsteadily to his feet. "What time is it?"

"Eight thirty."

Dean groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. "Anything happen while I was out?"

"Nothing. Well." Benny paused. "Your brother woke up an hour an' a half before you did. Saw you sleepin' over here like a log, and the look on his face, you'd think he'd expected you to be gone."

"Or never been there," Dean muttered.

"Yeah. You shoulda seen his expression when it registered. He looked so damn relieved, I nearly left to room to give him some privacy."

"But you didn't?"

"Nah." A brief smile crossed Benny's face. "Couldn't look away. It was like watchin' an old movie, 'cept a lot more . . . emotional. I tell you, Dean, you got yourself some devoted brother here." He looked at Dean evenly. "What I wanna know is why he looks like death warmed over."

"I've seen him looking like death warmed over," Dean interrupted before Benny could say more. "I've seen him looking like Death didn't even bother with the warming. Trust me, this doesn't even cut it."

"I'm listenin'."

Dean pointed at the door. "For him? It's been four months without me, Benny. You know why? Because we both seem to have the bad habit of dying all the time."

"He thought you were dead?"

"Yeah." Dean gave a faint smile that was not amused. "Mostly because I was."

Benny shook his head. "You gotta do somethin' different, brother. Whatever you are doin' just ain't workin' for you."

Dean snorted. "You're telling me."

"But why the guilt, Dean? It's like he thinks your death's all his fault."

"Sam, you'll never learn, will you?" Dean muttered, exasperated, but his voice was gentle. "If it was possible, he'd think global warming was all his fault. Idiot." He exhaled slowly. "Well, you'll have to find out sometime."

Benny looked at him, genuinely patient.

"He thinks I was in Hell."

"Knowin' you, that's not just an expression," Benny murmured. "If you were in Hell, how'd you get out?"

"An angel 'gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition,'" Dean quoted.

"Your Angel," Benny realized.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Not my angel. Jeez, everyone seems to think something's going on with us. It's just Cas, man."

"He gonna show up soon?"

"Yeah. The worst part of this is that, at one point or another, some demon or whatever will eventually let slip how different time is in Hell than it is here."

Benny paused. "This ain't gonna be good, is it?"

"No. Basically, four months here is forty years down there." His lips turned down in an expression of annoyance and, though he didn't know it, worry. "Then Sam will be wondering why I didn't tell him, drowning in guilt and wanting Lilith's head on any platter he can get his hands on."

"And you're still not gonna tell him," Benny said. It wasn't a question.

"Hell, no. Even if I do tell him instead of avoiding it, he'll still react the same way. No, I'll figure something else out." He looked at the vampire steadily. "You with me on this?"

Benny tilted his head slightly. "Well, now how can I abandon a brother when he needs my help?"

Dean's lips quirked. "That, and I'm the only one who can see you."

Benny smiled. "You know me, Dean. I go along with whatever comes my way."

"And this is way too interesting to ignore."

The vampire laughed. "See? You do know me. Too well for my own good, I'm thinkin'."

They were interrupted when the door opened, and Sam walked in.

Dean tensed, waiting for him to notice Benny, but he didn't even glance at the vampire sitting in his chair.

Sam couldn't see him.

Relief made his shoulders relax, and he caught the take-out bag Sam tossed to him. "Please tell me you got pie."

His brother rolled his eyes, but he smiled. "I got pie."

Benny watched Sam sit down on his bed and open a newspaper. "Just outta Purgatory and you already got yourself a henchman. Why am I not surprised."

Dean suppressed the laugh that wanted to escape, instead choosing to ask, "You find anything, Sam?"

Sam scanned the words on the page. "Yeah. Apparently, a toothbrush holder attacked a man in his own home. Or, at least, that's what his wife says. She saw it beat her husband to death. By the time the police got there, he was already gone."

Dean paused. "You thinkin' vengeful spirit?"

Sam met his gaze. "Could be."

"Let's do it, then." He opened the take-out bag. "After I eat."

Sam turned back to his newspaper, mumbling under his breath, "Toothbrush holder. Really? I tell him someone was beaten to death with a toothbrush holder, and he wants to eat."

Benny laughed.

It only took that one hunt for everything to go to hell.

As it turned out, it wasn't a vengeful spirit.

It was a witch.

Dean wouldn't have anything against witches if they just stopped killing people. Unfortunately, they never took the suggestion under advisement.

"You'll never be able to stop me, Hunters," the witch, Karen Rever, hissed at them.

"Just tell me one thing," Dean said. "Why a toothbrush holder?"

Sam groaned. "Not now, Dean."

"It's not a hard question to answer," he argued.

Karen laughed, Dean swore later that it was an honest-to-God cackle. "Why? Because he was obsessed with having perfect teeth. Perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect everything. Look what he has now. Perfect nothing."

"Jesus," Dean muttered. "I've seen saner asylum inmates than you."

"You'll have to tell me the story sometime," Benny said.

The witch stepped forward, smiling pleasantly. "Shall we see how much you like having another person living with your own memories? Shall I take them from you, take a little look inside your head? Mm, yes. That should be fun." Then she spoke in a low tone, her voice soft but deep. Dean couldn't make out the words, or if they even were words.

She paused, smiled. "Daddy wasn't around long, was he? Poor, poor things. Oh, and I see your little brother was just adorable. Took care of him like he was your reason for living, you did. You good little soldier, you. Aww, but you never wanted this life for him, did you? You sweet thing. All you really wanted was for your brother to be happy. But that didn't go so well for you, now did it? Daddy never did love you as much as he did Sam. Mm. Now there not-so-little Sammy just went and broke your heart, didn't he? Broke it into several pieces. He just went and took off. Left you all alone with that reckless Daddy of yours. Seems like Stanford did him well. Oh, just look how relieved you were to see Sam's face, even if it took your father's disappearance to go after him. How high you felt upon seeing him. I think I feel a tear in my eye. You two did get arrested a lot after that, didn't you? Aw. How sad. Whoops. There goes dear old Dad. Oh! You just learned your brother was even more of a freak than you realized. Oh, but wait. He wasn't a freak to you, was he? How sweet. Oh look. He's dead. Just numbed you out, didn't it. Couldn't even breathe until you saw him awake and alive. But look, now it's nearly your turn. You should see him from where I'm standing, Dean. He looks absolutely ruined. Such despair on your brother's face. I could almost cry. He's not making it much better, is he? You were so scared, and he doesn't even know. And . . . you're dead." She flinched. "Wasn't expecting that. The years do . . . pass . . ." Her hand reached up to clutch her head. "What . . . ? Why isn't it ending? It's not ending." Suddenly, she cried out. "Stop!" She staggered back. "No, this isn't right! Oh . . . Sam," she breathed. "Protect your brother, Dean. He's everything. To . . . you . . . Cas? Sam. Protect your . . . Sam? Don't die. Sam? Don't . . . right. Fake a smile. It's not right. Sam . . ." She let out a sob. "Sam. No. I won't . . . catch you . . . don't fall. You'll fall. So empty . . ." She took in a ragged breath. "Yes. Tell me? Please. No, you're not right. Not my Sam. My . . . Sam. Brother. Not right. Come back? Please. Sammy, don't break. Why?" she cried. "Why? Traitor . . . why? Oh . . . Sam," she sobbed. "Sam."

"I don't think that's supposed to happen, Dean," Benny finally said.

"No." Dean hesitated, then walked to stand in front of the witch. "Hey."

She looked up at him through watery eyes. "Sammy?"

"Karen, listen to me," he said. She seemed to focus on the sound of his voice. "You listening? Good." He didn't wait for her to answer. "Look, you're fine. See? You're not me, okay? Breathe. I said breathe, Karen. You're not breathing. Yeah, just keep doing that. Now listen. Do you know who you are?"

She hesitated. "Dean?" Her voice wavered.

"No. You're Karen Rever. Remember? You're a witch who was just about to kill us before you decided to go through my memories."

She blinked up at him, confused. "Oh. Why?"

"Because . . . you're a witch? Witches generally don't care about other people."

"People," she said slowly. She moved her gaze to over his shoulder and leaned sideways, trying to see around him. "Sammy?"

Sam walked over to them, his expression uncertain. "Yeah."

She giggled. It was a light, as if it had come from a child. She held out her arms. "Sammy."

Sammy glanced at him. "What did you do to her?"

"Me? She's the one who tried to take my memories."

"Sammy," she repeated patiently, her arms still held in front of her.

Dean nudged him. "Dude, I think she wants you to pick her up.

Sam paused, obviously uncertain whether he should, then bent down and lifted her into his arms.

She put her arms around him neck and rested her head on his shoulder. "Sammy." She sounded absolutely blissful.

"What should we do with her?" Sam asked.

"Hell if I know." He glanced at Benny, who shrugged.

"We could take her to Bobby," Sam suggested. His eyes widened, and he muttered a curse. Karen patted his hair, as if trying to comfort him. "I forgot to call and tell him that you're alive."

Dean whistled. "He is going to kill you."

"Help me out here, Dean."

He paused, as if thinking about it. "Nah. I think I'll hold you down for him, though."

"Great. Some brother you are."

Dean chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder, careful not to dislodge Karen. "You'll thank me later," he said cheerfully.

"No, Dean. I definitely will not be thanking you later."

He was right.

It took less time than he'd expected to arrive at Bobby's house. By silent mutual agreement, neither of them talked about what had happened. Dean knew that Sam would give himself a heart attack not asking, but now wasn't the time. He'd had Sam call Bobby while he drove. From what he'd heard on Sam's end, and knowing Bobby as he did, the conversation had gone something like this:

"Bobby?"

"Sam? Is that you?"

"Yeah, Bobby. It's me. Listen, we're nearly at your house, and-"

"We? What do you mean 'we'? Boy, you better not have-"

"Bobby. Bobby! Listen, we're almost there, okay? I'll explain everything, so just wait a minute."

"I was listening months ago, Sam. I was listening when you didn't call, and when I tried to and all I got was your damned voice message."

"Bobby . . . I'm sorry."

There was a pause.

"I know you are. Now what's this 'we' you were talkin' about?"

"Well . . . look, you'll see when we get there, alright?"

"Sam," Bobby said slowly, "what did you do?"

Dean stopped listening by then, knowing Sam would get an earful of expletives.

A while later, they stood on Bobby's porch, Karen by Sam's side, having clung to his hand through the whole drive and still doing so.

Bobby pulled the door open, took one look at Dean's face, and threw holy water right at it.

Dean blinked the water out of his eyes, squinting at Bobby. "Gee, thanks, Bobby. Hello to you, too."

"Bobby," Karen said, a wide smile on her face. She held out her free hand, looking up at him expectantly.

Bobby looked at her as if she were insane. Which she was, but he didn't know that.

"It's okay, Bobby," Sam told him. "Dean's not a demon or a shapeshifter."

Benny snorted. "A stubborn son of a bitch, yeah. But a demon? Nah."

Dean gave him a discreet glare that no one else saw. Benny shrugged. "Only tellin' it like I see it, brother."

Bobby glanced at Dean warily, then held open the door.

And that was how they found themselves sitting on a couch in front of Bobby, who finally asked the question Dean had been waiting for.

"Who's she?"

"A vegetable," Dean answered. He nudged Karen. "Right, Kare?"

She beamed at him. "Dean."

He nodded. "See? She's a vegetable."

"What did you do to her?"

"Jeez," he muttered. "First Sam, now you. It's not always my fault, you know."

Benny, who was sitting in a chair beside the couch, chuckled. "From what I've seen, it's never anyone else's, Dean."

He made a vow to get back at the vampire later. And then some.

Karen leaned against Sam and watched Bobby.

"This is Karen Rever, Bobby," Sam explained. "She's a witch." He paused. "Well, she was, until she tried to take Dean's memories." He glanced at his brother. "And you still haven't told me why this happened."

"The spell probably backfired," Dean lied smoothly.

Bobby's expression wasn't amused. "Yeah, right."

Dean frowned. "How should I know? It's not like I did it on purpose." That, at least, was true.

"And now you want to leave her here with me." It wasn't a question.

"We thought you could use the company," Dean murmured, completely unrepentant.

Bobby looked at Karen.

She had taken to petting the fabric of Sam's jeans, watching the movements of her fingers with rap attention. Then she stilled her hand and lifted her head to look at Bobby with an unusually solemn expression on her face. "Bobby."

It was like they were all holding their breath.

"Yeah?"

Karen seemed to study him. "I'm Karie."

"Karie," he said cautiously.

She giggled, and the spell was broken. "Bobby," she said happily. She looked at Dean, and her smile became for him. "Right?"

"Right," he agreed.

She laughed, a floating, tinkling sound, and reached out to pat his hand. "Flasks don't melt."

He nearly froze.

She must have gotten all of his memories, not just the ones up to the point where Sam fell with Michael and Lucifer into the Cage. Then he managed to get passed it, and said, "No, they don't."

She nodded soberly, and laid her head back on Sam's shoulder. Her somber gaze went to Bobby, lightened. She gave him a small wave. "Love your boys."

And, at that moment, Dean knew that Bobby was lost. There was absolutely no way he'd let Karen go now.

Bobby rested his gaze on him. "You were in Hell, boy. How did you get out?"

"Angels," he said, deadpan.

Which, of course, meant he had to explain it all over again. He still avoided mentioning how he knew Cas's name, which meant Bobby was giving him a suspicious look and thinking way too hard about it.

Really, it was like Bobby didn't trust him.

"You boys got somewhere you need to be?" the man asked.

After that, it took hours before they finally left.

Dean decided that, once they did, they were going to summon Cas.

A while later, they even had the stuff to do it.

"Bye, Sam," Karen said happily before they'd even gotten to the door. "Bye, Dean." And then Dean was one step outside, and she was calling to them cheerfully, "Bye, Benny."

They were in the car before Benny finally spoke.

"Now, how'd she know that?" he murmured.

Dean tried to think about what it would be like from Karen's point of view.

Then he realized it was impossible, and conceded to a mutual agreement with himself that he'd never attempt it ever again.

(Ever.)

A/N

This story is now up for adoption.