Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

ccgnme- Ahem, angst is what I do best!

Garideth- Yup! Thank you! (My sniffling is justified, then?)

Chapter name borrowed from Yellowcard.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE- GIFTS AND CURSES

Dean leaned against his car, fidgeting.

I raised a hand to put it on his shoulder, but thought better of it and let it fall.

"Ellen, it's me again," Dean clutched the phone tightly.

"Any chance you've heard from him?"

He paused.

"I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again, I'm losing my mind here."

Dean waited a beat.

"No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went or why. Sam's just gone."

His cell phone beeped.

"Hang on."

I stiffened as Dean started speaking.

"Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay?"

Dean frowned.

"Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? All right, don't move, I'm on my way."

~Supernatural~

We walked down the narrow hallway, checking the door numbers until we reached room 109.

Dean knocked sharply.

"Sam, it's me. Sam!"

I tried the door- it was open.

We went inside.

Sam did not move as he sat numbly on the bed.

"Sam? Hey."

I sat next to him, taking his hand to stare at the blood.

"Hey," Sam replied dazedly.

Dean knelt beside him.

"Are you bleeding?"

"I tried to wash it off," Sam's eyes unfocused.

I plucked at Sam's blood soaked shirt.

Dean batted away my hand, searching for a wound.

"Oh my god."

Sam gulped.

"I don't think it's my blood."

Dean rocked back on his heels.

"Whose is it?"

"I don't know," Sam said, panicked.

"Sam, what the hell happened?"

Sam finally looked up.

"I don't remember anything."

…

Dean returned to the room, rolling his eyes at my arm slung around Sam's shoulder.

"What'd you find out?"

"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Sambora," Dean straddled a chair.

"Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan."

"Dean." Sam was not amused.

"Your room's been quiet, nobody's noticed anything unusual," Dean added.

Sam snorted in disbelief.

"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "That's what I mean."

Sam threw up his hands in the air.

"Then how the hell did I get here? What happened to me?"

I squeezed Sam's shoulder.

"You're okay, Sam. That's all that matters."

"Oh, really?"

Sam flopped down on the bed.

"'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?"

Dean sighed.

"Sam….."

"What if this is what Dad warned you about?"

"Hey, whoa, whoa, come on, man," Dean said cautiously.

"Let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. We've just got to treat this like, like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam huffed.

"We were in that hotel room in West Texas, going out to grab some burgers, and….."

My mouth fell open.

"West Texas?" Dean interrupted.

"That was, that was over a week ago."

"That's it."

Dean looked stunned.

"Next thing I knew I was sitting here," Sam closed his eyes.

"Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."

"Okay," Dean swallowed. "Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so…."

He pulled back the curtain.

"Hey."

A bloody fingerprint was smeared on the window.

~Supernatural~

We walked outside the motel slowly.

The rain fell on my hair like a fine mist, and I stared at Sam anxiously.

"Recognize anything?"

Sam shook his head at Dean.

"Not really."

We went towards the garage out back.

"Wait."

"What?"

Dean turned around.

"I think I was here," Sam said slowly.

"You remember?" I asked hopefully.

"Not really, it just feels familiar, you know?"

Dean shrugged, going to the nearest garage.

Sam looked over to the second and pointed.

"Try that one. Yeah."

He tugged on the padlock.

"Okay."

"Wait," Sam dug in his pocket, frowning.

He pulled out a small silver key.

Dean unlocked the garage, cocking an eyebrow at Sam.

He pulled it open, and I glanced confusedly at the filthy beat-up VW Beetle inside.

Dean groaned.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this."

Sam shifted uncomfortably.

We crept inside, pulling open the doors.

Sam swiped a finger against the wheel, showing us his stained finger.

"More blood."

"Sam," My voice shook. "Back seat."

He reached down, picking up a blood-stained knife that stuck to the floor of the backseat.

We stared at it.

"You think I used this on someone?"

Dean flexed his jaw.

"I'm not thinking anything."

Sam rubbed the knife off on the inside of his jacket.

Dean picked up a pack of cigarettes.

"Okay, now this is disturbing. Come on, man, this couldn't have been you. Had to have been someone else, someone who.."

He sniffed the pack.

"Smokes menthols."

"Here," Sam held out a slip of paper.

"Gas receipt. Few towns over."

…

We pulled up at the small gas station.

"All right," Dean got out.

"Receipt's for ten gallons at pump number two. You getting any, uh, any goosebumps yet? God, this looks familiar, déjà vu vibes?"

Sam shook his head quietly.

I caught hold of his arm.

"Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on."

The clerk looked up in shock, then in anger as we entered the convenience store.

"You!" He spat at Sam. "Outta here now, I'm calling the cops!"

Dean blinked at him.

"You talking to him?"

The clerk did not shift his gaze from Sam.

"Yeah, I'm talking to him. Jerk comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging it."

"This guy?"

Dean rounded on Sam.

"You're drinking malt liquor?"

"Not after he whipped the friggin' bottle at my head." The clerk glared at him.

I stared at him in disbelief.

"This guy?"

"What, am I speaking Urdu?" He snapped at me.

"Look," Sam held up his hands. "I'm really sorry if I did anything."

"Tell your story walkin', pal. Police will be here in five."

"Wait, wait," Dean spread out his hands in a placatory gesture.

"Put the phone down. Sam, go wait in the car."

"But-"

"Go wait in the car!"

Dean jerked his head at me to follow him.

~Supernatural~

Dean banged the door open, and I jumped to my feet.

I had a bad feeling about this.

"What's going on?"

"Shut up," Dean snarled, pushing me away.

I blinked hard, looking at Sam for an explanation.

Sam's face was ashen.

"Murder. I killed a hunter."

My head swiveled wildly from Sam to Dean.

"You what?"

"Maybe," Dean scowled at me. "We don't know that for sure."

Sam scoffed.

"Hey, we don't know," Dean insisted. "Maybe it was a shapeshifter."

"Oh, come on," Sam kicked the bedpost.

"You know it wasn't, you saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion."

"Yeah, but it wasn't you!" Dean yelled. "All right? I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you."

"Well, I think it was."

Sam sat down on the bed.

"I think maybe more than you know."

"What the hell does that mean?" Dean growled.

"For the last few weeks I've been having…. I've been having these feelings."

"What feelings?" Dean's voice dropped lower.

"Rage. Hate. And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day it gets worse."

Dean inhaled sharply.

"You never told me this."

Sam did not meet our eyes.

"I didn't want to scare either of you."

Dean laughed mirthlessly.

"Well, bang-up job on that."

Sam ignored him.

"The yellow-eyed demon, you know he has plans for me. And we both know that he's turned other children into killers before, too."

"No one can control you but you."

"It sure doesn't seem like it," Sam said bitterly.

"It feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely, I'm, I'm becoming…"

"What?" Dean demanded.

"Who I'm meant to be. I mean, you said it once yourself, Dean. I gotta face up to who I am."

"I didn't mean this!" Dean exploded.

"But it's still true," Sam said quietly.

"You know that. Dad knew that too, that's why he told you, if it ever come to this….."

"Shut up, Sam."

Sam stood up.

"Dean, you promised. Both of you promised."

"No," I whispered.

"No, listen to me," Dean pleaded.

"We're going to figure this out, okay? I mean, there's got to be a way, right?"

"Yeah, there is."

He pulled out a handgun from his duffle, shoving it at Dean.

"I don't want to hurt anyone else. I don't want to hurt both of you."

"You won't," Dean urged. "Whatever this is, you can fight it."

The tears collected in Sam's eyes.

"No, I can't. Not forever. Here, you gotta do it."

Sam grabbed Dean's hand, placing the gun in it.

"I've tried so hard to keep you safe," Dean murmured.

"No!" I stood up. "You can't-"

Sam cut me off.

"I know."

"I can't," Dean dropped the gun. "I'd rather die."

"No," Sam muttered. "You'll live."

He picked up the gun.

"You'll live to regret this."

Sam pistol-whipped Dean.

He fell to the floor, unconscious.

Before I could do anything, Sam hit me on the head with the butt of his pistol.

Everything went black.

~Supernatural~

"Kid." Someone shook me uncharacteristically gently. "Wake up."

I moaned, burying my head in….. was that leather?

"Bambi. Up and at 'em, kid."

I ran my tongue over my mouth, wincing at the unpleasant taste.

I blinked, staring up at Dean's face.

"Wha-"

"Come on," Dean pulled me out of the Impala.

"Where's Sam?"

Dean's face tightened.

"Later. Come on."

I walked into the hotel room, staring at Dean expectantly.

"Duluth, Minnesota," Dean answered my unspoken question.

"I'm going to find him."

I looked at him questioningly.

"Why are we here, then?"

Dean looked at me stubbornly.

"The room's for you."

It sunk in only after a minute.

"No! I'm coming with you!"

Dean caught me in his iron grip.

"No, you're not. Sam's not himself, and you could get hurt. I don't want another death on my hands."

"No!" I said loudly, wriggling in his grasp.

Dean glowered at me.

"Kid, I will tie you to this chair if I have to."

"But-"

"No!" Dean yelled.

"When are you going to get it? All you could do is weigh me down!"

I stopped, hitching in a breath.

I had no retort now.

Dean blinked at me.

"I didn't…."

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Just stay here."

Dean walked out of the room, locking it from outside.

Hours passed.

I bit my nails anxiously.

Dean should've been back by now.

"He's possessed."

I whirled around to look at Castiel.

I breathed out, slightly less worried.

"Castiel! Where've you been?"

He tilted his head to one side.

"I had my orders. It's Sam. He's possessed by a demon."

Relief flooded through me.

"I knew it. Sam would never do that."

Then I remembered.

"Dean! He doesn't know!"

Castiel walked forward.

"Go. He's in danger."

The door clicked open.

~Supernatural~

I walked quickly through the docks; I'd had to track Dean down myself.

I clutched my flashlight nervously, dialing Dean's number.

"This is Dean. Leave a message."

I hung up with a sigh and continued searching.

Where are you, Dean?

I called him again.

I froze as I heard Dean's ringtone coming from below me, near the water.

I ran down to the bottom of the ramp.

Dean was sopping wet, limp and unresponsive.

"Dean! Dean!"

He woke up with a groan.

"Take it easy."

Dean shuddered, moaning in pain.

"How'd you get out?"

"Castiel helped."

I helped him stand up.

"How'd you find me?"

Dean leant on me heavily as we started walking.

"It was difficult," I shrugged. "But l learnt from the best."

"Where's Sam?"

My smile faded.

"I don't know, Dean."