A/N: Sorry it's been so long, but I've had at least one test over the last few weeks. Another test Saturday, but I'll try to make sure I get some writing in. No real action yet, but it's coming up. Thanks for reading and reviewing! It makes my day :)

Dean made no attempt to sit back up, and after a few minutes Sam had to check to make sure his brother was even still awake. Dean waved him away, keeping his hands covering his face. "Keep going," he instructed Mark, "I'm listening, my head's just killing me."

Sam shot Mark a look, and Mark nodded, acknowledging both of their concerns. He hesitated but then continued explaining what he knew. "So if it is indeed the wand that's causing these weird occurrences in the school library, we need to find that wand and whoever's controlling it before more people die."

"But if the evil deities have already been summoned, how can we dispel them? Does the possessor of the wand have complete control of them?" Sam asked. Dean made no effort to contribute, just lay as still as possible, listening to them talk.

"Once I figured out what I was looking for, I did extensive research on the subject. I have a few incantations that should work, but I think our real problem will be dealing with the actual human person who did the summoning. If someone is so crazy that he's willing to call up ancient evils to do his bidding, he's not just going to go down without a fight."

"You said before – that the wand could backfire against its possessor if used carelessly. If that's the case, isn't it possible that our guy will be dead before we even find out who he is? Then our problem is solved, right?"

"Have to save him," Dean croaked out, pushing himself up on one arm. "Can't just let him die, Sam."

"But Dean, he brought this on himself. And he's causing the deaths of innocent people."

Dean shook his head weakly. "Doesn't matter, Sam. It's our job."

"Yeah, okay, I know, I get it. Saving people, hunting things…but I'm just saying, if it's a choice between saving ourselves or saving him…"

"Sam," Dean's voice was stronger now, letting Sam know to drop the subject.

Mark stayed silent, watching the exchange between the brothers, choosing not to butt into their obviously-personal conversation. Dean's weariness was evident, and not just the physical exhaustion brought on by the illness that was kicking his ass at the moment. Mark wondered what John's death had done to Dean; why he suddenly seemed like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"So then where do we start looking?" Sam directed his question to Mark but kept his eyes on his brother.

"I think our best chance in finding the possessor is by looking at the events that have occurred. Why bring destruction to the library? We need to figure out the motive; then we can find out who is doing it."

"Can't we just burn all the bones?" Dean asked wearily, uncharacteristically seeking the easiest, least dangerous solution. He knew his body wasn't up for a fight, and he didn't want Sam to get injured because Dean couldn't watch his back.

Mark grimaced slightly. "Oh yeah, I left that part out didn't I? The bones seem to have disappeared shortly after they were discovered."

"Disappeared?" Dean asked incredulously. "You said there was something like two dozen bodies. How the hell could they just disappear?"

"A very good question. And another reason why we need to find out who has the wand. If destroying the wand doesn't work, we very well may have to burn the bodies too."

"What if we already know where the bodies are?" Sam asked, receiving confused looks from Dean and Mark.

"How?" Mark asked him skeptically.

"I was at the library earlier. I wanted to check it out for myself," Sam explained, ignoring the annoyed look on Dean's face. "I know you wanted me to wait for you, Dean, but you were out like a light and I had nothing to do." Dean still seemed pissed but didn't say anything, knowing Sam had a point. "Anyway, I talked to Emily – the coed working at the front desk – and I got some pretty good intel from her."

"Was she hot?"

Sam smirked. "Now that he's interested in. Get your mind out of the gutter, Dean."

"She was, wasn't she? Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. Getting more and more like me every day."

"Anyway," Sam continued, ignoring Dean's comments, "she was hiding out in the library a few nights after the bodies were discovered and happened to see five or six men carrying the bodies down to the basement."

"Did she recognize them?" Mark asked, still shocked that Sam actually knew where the bodies were.

Sam nodded. "She said she thought a few of them were men from the construction site. She also recognized the dean of the college and one of the anthropology professors."

"What the hell?" Dean asked this time. "Why would they want to destroy the school library?"

"Just because they moved the bodies, it doesn't mean they're the ones who took the wand," Mark pointed out. "Still, that's great information to have. Where in the basement did they hide the bodies?"

"Some secret storage area. Emily showed me on the floor plans, but I didn't have the chance to scope it out. There's some bad news, though. Apparently they've beefed up security since then. According to Emily, there are at least three officers guarding the library every night."

Dean groaned. "Great. Well let's hope we don't need access to the bodies."

Sam agreed. "So we know where the bodies are and we know who moved them, but we don't know why."

"Well let's get back to the sabotage motive," Mark suggested. "The damage to the library has slowed down construction on the additional wing. Who would want to prevent them from expanding it?"

"Probably not the dean," Sam said, thinking aloud. "But we're ignoring a glaring inconsistency. If only one person is using the wand, why were there five or so men involved in the relocation of the bodies? And why was it so secretive? Clearly their motives can't be good."

The three hunters mused over that point for a few minutes before Mark finally spoke up. "I think the only way we can make some headway is by doing more research. But that can wait until tomorrow. And now, we eat," Mark said, opening the box of pizza that Sam had almost forgotten was there.

Mark pulled out some paper plates and handed them to Sam, and Sam dished out slices for the three of them. Dean swallowed hard and eyed the pizza skeptically. "I'm good," he told Sam, pushing back the pizza.

"I figured you'd say that," Mark told him, pulling out a brown paper bag, "that's why I got you some chicken noodle soup." He held up the container, a wide grin plastered on his face at the groan Dean let out.

"I think I'll pass."

Sam was prepared to force the issue, but he didn't have to. Mark was already on it. "Dean, if you're too sick, Sam and I can handle this case on our own."

Nicely played, Sam thought, impressed, as Dean predictably straightened at that. "No way. I'm fine," he insisted, but didn't make a move to take the soup from Mark.

Mark smiled, knowing he had won. "If you're fine, then you can eat, Dean. Need to keep your strength up."

Dean glared at the soup in Mark's hand, realizing he was cornered. He turned to Sam who wore an enormously dopey grin on his face. "Fine!" he huffed, grabbing the pizza from Sam. "I'll take the pizza." He took a theatrically big bite, nearly gagging when the cheese and grease hit his mouth, but somehow managed to swallow it. He finished the slice quickly, looking back up at Mark and Sam. "There. Are you happy now?"

Sam shook his head in disbelief, knowing Dean would probably be regretting that move in a short while. "You coulda just had the soup, Dean."

Dean glared at him in annoyance, pushing himself back against the headboard. "Whatever," he grumbled, closing his eyes.

Mark and Sam finished up their pizza, discussing the case a little bit more, both deciding there was nothing more they could do tonight.

Dean, for the most part, stayed out of the conversation, only adding a few noncommittal grunts whenever they asked for his input. His throat was sore and his head was pounding. He also felt overwhelmingly nauseous; the only thing keeping him from losing the pizza he had foolishly eaten earlier was his own stubborn pride. But Dean didn't want Mark or Sam to know they had been right. And he didn't want to be benched from this hunt.

"Dean, did you hear me?" Sam asked loudly, and from the worried tone in his voice, it was obvious this hadn't been the first time he'd asked. Or the second.

"Huh?"

Sam sighed heavily, barely masking his concern. "I said we should go out to the construction site tomorrow morning, see if we can get any information from the workers. Maybe we can figure out who Emily saw moving the bodies to the library."

Dean nodded, barely. "Sure, sounds good." He closed his eyes again to still the hazy spinning of the room and could hear Mark and Sam talking low, no doubt about him. Didn't matter, he was too out of it to listen.

Mark motioned to Dean, standing up. "He doesn't look good, Sam. How long has this been going on?"

Sam studied his brother, inclined to agree. "At least a week, but who knows how long he's been hiding it from me."

Mark nodded, as if he'd been expecting that. "We should let him get some sleep, then. And you look like you could use it too. I'll be back here at 7 sharp."

"Sounds great. And you're right, I'm wiped. See you tomorrow, Mark." Sam followed him to the door. "And thanks," he added, continuing at Mark's confused look, "for looking out for him. I don't think he'd listen to me."

Mark smiled knowingly. "He's just stubborn. But don't worry – it's two against one now. We'll make sure he listens."

Sam stepped back in the room after locking the door, wiping a hand down his face, realizing how exhausted he really was. Dean was sitting up against the headboard, his eyes still closed and his skin pale and pasty. Sam couldn't hear him wheezing anymore but could tell just from watching Dean's chest rise and fall in labored breaths that he was still congested.

"You still awake?" Sam asked, though he was pretty sure Dean had just been feigning sleep to avoid talking to him and Mark. After a few moments, Dean opened one eye to look at his brother.

"Still awake," he grunted hoarsely.

"How are you feeling?" That question had become almost routine now, even though Sam wasn't really expecting an answer.

Dean shifted higher up against the headboard, opening both eyes now. "Like I'm gonna hurl," he admitted, his voice holding a tinge of annoyance. "You suck, by the way."

Sam laughed, sitting on his own bed and pulling off his socks. He nudged the garbage can closer to Dean's bed in case his brother was serious. "No one made you eat the pizza, Dean."

Dean groaned, palming his face with his hand. "No more talk of pizza. Or food in general."

"Whatever, man. You should try and get some sleep if you plan on coming with us to the construction site tomorrow."

"Why wouldn't I be coming?" Dean's voice was on the verge of pissy, and Sam had no intention of pushing it off the edge. He chose not to answer that particular question, instead turning the lights off and climbing under the covers of his bed.

Sam closed his eyes, trying his best to block out the sounds of his brother's congested breathing and the unshakeable dread that all of this was going to get much, much worse before it got any better.

My bad if there are any typos or grammatical errors. I can't force myself to read this again. This chapter is slow, I know, but it will pick up. Thanks for reading! Please review!