Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural or whatnot, it is all property of the CW11 network and the Kripke. So don't sue and please don't be offended by the language cause it's gonna be colorful to say the least.

Chapter 4

Dean looked up from the local newspaper he'd been skimming through when the familiar rumble of his baby filled his ears. He remained sitting and schooled his features into a natural expression even though he was glad Sam was back.

At the moment, Dean was absolutely famished and thinking about the exact way he was going to give his brother some much deserved but watered down verbal Hell.

Dean purposely didn't look up from the newspaper he'd been reading as he heard the motel room door being open.

If he had looked up, maybe he would have seen the look of barely hidden terror painted across Sam's face as he stared at his older brother.

Sam eyed Dean for a few seconds before he quickly forced his face to contort into a small, brittle smile as he used his foot to close the door behind him once he was fully inside the room.

The younger Winchester swallowed down the urge to drop the paper bags of food and coffee he was carrying and bolt from the room as fast as his abused body could take him.

Instead, he focused on keeping his voice shaking or cracking all together as he spoke.

" Hey Dean, I brought breakfast."

At this, Dean did look up, his eyes hard and his face unsmiling.

Sam felt his heart leap into his throat as the way Dean was looking at him instantly reminded him of the way his big brother's face had looked last night... When Dean had been looming over him.

" Way to state the obvious there Sam." Said Dean, his voice gruff and unamused, a far cry from the usual laid back, carefree Dean Winchester timbre.

" You and me got some things to talk about." Dean added.

Sam felt his heart now drop to the very bottom of his stomach.

Dean wanted to talk, and Sam didn't know if he would be able to survive it if their conversation would be about certain details of last night.

Sam nodded mutely and walked over to the wooden table that stood next to the wall opposite the two beds.

He forced himself to walk a normal gate, masking the fact that he was suffering from a great amount of physical and mental trauma.

He walked, not limped.

Sam set the white paper bags down, trying to bide himself some time before he cleared his throat and spoke.

" Uh... Talk about what things exactly?" He asked, stumbling just a little in the beginning as he kept his back to Dean.

" Last Night is what I'm talking about, exactly." Shot back Dean, glaring slightly at his brother's broad back.

Sam's heart slammed to a dead stop in his chest, ice cold terror shooting up his spine.

Swallowing back the urge to start screaming at the top of his lungs, Sam squared his shoulders and turned around to face his brother, terrified beyond words about what exactly Dean wanted to talk about.

" What... What about last night?" Asked Sam as steadily as he could.

Sam barely held back a flinch when Dean sputtered in shocked indignation before all but glaring murderously at him.

" You cannot be fucking serious Sam, What about last night? What about last night? I'll tell you what about last night!" Said Dean, his voice steadily climbing in volume, along with his level of wrath.

Sam clenched his hands into fists to keep Dean from seeing how badly they were trembling.

Air ceased to enter his lungs as he stared slightly wide-eyed and inwardly scared shit-less at his older brother, waiting to hear just what Dean was talking about in regards to last night.

After all, many things had happened last night, to them both.

Then, Dean loudly elaborated.

" I'm talking about the hunt last night Sam, in which you massively screwed up and nearly got up both killed!" Shouted a furious Dean.

Sam nearly collapsed to the ground because his knees had gone weak... with relief.

" Oh thank God, he doesn't remember what else happened last night." Thought Sam as he forced himself to stay upright and kept his face in a frown instead of letting the naked relief he was feeling show.

Instead, he let his eyes become downcast in guilt because after-all, he had screwed up.

" I know I screwed up Dean, I thought we were going the right way, I'm sorry." Said Sam.

" Of course you're sorry Sam, you're always sorry. But you seriously made a rookie mistake and dropped the ball on this one, it's why I'm givin' you Hell right now." Shot back Dean.

" Something else made you give me plenty Hell last night too Dean." Thought Sam sadly and maybe just a little bit angrily too.

Angry and heart broken that all of this was happening, Sam just stood there in guilt and shame and silently took every verbal barb Dean threw his way.

Then, once Dean was done chewing Sam out, he brushed past him and set about tearing through one of the paper bags on the table, all the while grumbling and complaining about all the cuts and bruises he'd received from his impromptu flight into the tree the night before and them having to patch them up afterwards.

But with all his griping and grousing, Dean didn't notice how all of his grumbling mumbles were silently making Sam feel even like wanting to start screaming in both despair and inevitably, fury right then and there from where he sat across from Dean at the table, sipping his own coffee and nibbling at his breakfast.

Instead he kept his mouth sealed tightly shut and let whatever words he wanted to speak scream in his head.

" You may be cut up and bruised but that is nothing compared to what I am feeling right now."

" You have cuts and bruises, I have bite marks and bruises that your teeth left on me are burning and aching, my lower half feels like it's on fire because of..."

"And I patched you up you ungrateful bastard."

"You're bitching about what happened to you?"

"What about me Dean, what about what happened to me?"

"I can't be oblivious like you Dean, I didn't get possessed by some fucking red-eyed demonic son of a bitch like you did."

"At least you don't remember what happened between us."

"And I hope it stays that way cause I don't know what I'd do if you ever find out that you... that you forced yourself on me."

"I wish I could just say it, I wish I could just say that even after everything that happened, I don't blame you and that you're... That you're my Jerk."

After a tense breakfast, the two brothers lounged around with Dean watching TV while reclined on the bed and Sam sitting at the table typing away at his lab-top under the pretense of looking for future gigs when in actuality, he was already researching any possible leads and answers for a hunt.

The hunt for the as of yet, unknown creature or Demon responsible for an even that only he remembered.

When he would find the thing responsible for all this misery and pain, it would pay dearly, it would pay with it's life.

This, Sam Winchester vowed, this he swore.

Two Weeks Later...

It was a crisp Autumn morning over the state of Iowa.

On a more or less deserted highway road leading away from Sioux City and to the state line into the state of South Carolina, a low rumble filled the still air as a sleek, black 1967 Chevy Impala came gliding smoothly over the asphalt.

As the muscle car thundered along the road, it's driver turned to eye his single passenger riding shotgun.

Dean worriedly eyed his little brother.

The younger man sat nearly curled up in a tiny ball, leaning against the right car window and door.

He was paler than was healthy, his brow knotted in a frown, clear signal that Sam was also in the grips of pain as well.

And he was utterly silent.

Sam looked for lack of a better term, absolutely dreadful.

And Dean had good reason to feel concern and worry for his brother like he did right now.

Sam had been off for days now.

It had all started a few days after the hunt in Illinois.

Sam's energy levels seemed to have completely drained out of him over night.

He'd been tired, sleepy, zoning out, even during the middle of a conversation.

As the days went by the list of small ailments steadily grew.

A couple days after the sudden energy drainage, the freaky abdominal cramps started.

Dean had come back from the mandatory Lunch run to find Sam on one of the bed curled up on his side, clearly in pain with his hands splayed over his lower stomach area.

Only Sam's reassurances that with a little aspirin he'd be fine had stopped Dean from whisking him off to the nearest Emergency Room.

And as was assured, the cramps abated after a few days giving the two brothers a nice reprieve and a chance to finally leave the motel in Illinois and make there way to a motel in Iowa.

They made it to the state of Iowa only to have the mysterious and sudden stomach cramps give way to just as mysterious, just as sudden bouts of full on nausea.

Always in the mornings.

For most of the second week, Dean had awoken to the sounds of Sam heaving his guts out in the bathroom.

Dean was going to put his foot down and finally drag Sam in for some medical attention but Sam had whipped out his secret weapon.

The Puppy-Dog Eyed Stare.

He'd used this unfairly effective weapon against his older sibling and aborted Dean's intentions to take his to see a doctor, rationalizing and once again placating Dean about what was going on with his body was probably a simple flu bug exacerbated by stress.

Later that evening, Sam was perfectly fine, if somewhat worn out by all the upchucking.

Then, Bobby Singer had called them up, inviting them to his place the next state over.

Which was where they were headed for now.

And this very morning, in addition to heaving again in homage to the porcelain throne, Sam had started running a a slight temperature and complained of an dull ache in his lower back.

And now as they were driving along towards South Carolina, a headache had formed and from the way Sam was rubbing at his stomach, the dreaded cramped had returned.

" Hey Sammy, you wanna lay down in the back seat for a little while?" Asked Dean softly.

Sam looked up, slightly startled as he stared at his brother with pain filled eyes.

Then he blinked and Dean's softly spoken question registered through the headache.

" Y-Yeah... That sounds like a good idea." Said Sam, all but whispering really.

Dean nodded before expertly guiding the Impala onto the side of the road and easing to a stop.

Sending his brother an appreciative look, Sam opened the car door and gingerly stepped out.

He found that he could not bring himself to stand up straight, the pain in his abdomen was that severe.

With a white knuckled grip on the edge of the Impala's roof to keep himself from collapsing to the ground, Sam had it in mind to make it to the back seat, the door being right there.

Yet it looked so far away.

Sam only got about one baby step before he felt firm but gentle hand on him, one wrapping around his arm while the other was gripping his shoulder.

Dean.

A small part of Sam naturally wanted to flinch away from his big brother's touch.

Only a small part, the rest of him was grateful for the silent support Dean was providing him as together, they made there way, however short the distance to the rear passenger door.

Reaching out with the hand that was holding Sam's arm, Dean pulled the car door open and carefully help his brother climb back inside the car, making sure Sam didn't crash down onto the seats and make the pain he was in worse.

" Thanks Dean." Whispered Sam with a small groan as he immediately curled up in a way that seemed unheard of for a man Sam's size.

" Just take it easy and tell me if you feel any worse, cause then I am taking you to the hospital the second we get to South Carolina." Promise Dean, sending Sam one of his 'concerned but not backing down this time even if you do the puppy-eyes at me' looks.

Sam nodded and then closed is eyes, breathing deep against the pain.

With a lingering look of worry at his baby brother's curled up form, Dean pushed the rear car door shut , then the front passenger door shut before he hurried round the front of the Impala and climbed back into the driver's seat.

A few seconds later, the Impala was pulling away from the side of the road with a low growl.

" Maybe Bobby can help me figure out what's going on with you Sammy." Thought Dean

from where he lay in the back seat, Sam discreetly stared at the back of his brother's short haired head.

He knew full well that he was worrying Dean with all of this strange sickness going on with his body.

To be honest, Sam was getting really scared himself.

It wasn't flu season, and he rarely got sick as it is.

His throat didn't hurt, if he had the flu wasn't his throat supposed to be soar.

And also, much to Sam's embarrassment, why did his chest feel tender?

He hadn't mentioned this little detail to Dean, he'd never live it down if he did.

Instead, Sam stayed silent, trying to relax and simply focused on his brother sitting in the driver's seat in front of him.

At least they were heading for Bobby's.

" Maybe Bobby can help me figure out what's happening to me, he's got tons of books at his place too, maybe he can help me find out what type of Supernatural freak possessed Dean. I just gotta be careful with what I ask him, and how I word it." Thought Sam.

And so, the two brothers both with thoughts of a certain grizzled and grease-stained, ball cap wearing individual who may be able to help them out on their minds, settled in for what was still a long drive ahead.