When Sam opened his eyes, he saw his room in the Bunker. Carefully he sat up and looked around. Everything looked normal – everything felt normal. Though he knew, something was different. He tried to remember what happened last night. His memory told him, that he didn't go to sleep. At least not in his bed.

Suddenly his door flew open and Dean came in. He looked at his little brother and sighed in relief. "Thank god", he muttered under his breath and then cleared his throat. "How are you, Sammy?"

Sam touched his forehead. A silent pain went through him. "I had better mornings. What happened?"

The older brother came closer, sat down on Sam's bed and raised an eyebrow. "You don't remember?"

Sam shook his head.

"You lost consciousness", Dean explained. "You wanted to show me something, but you suddenly broke down."

The car!, Sam remembered. "Dean! When you were 12 you almost died because of a ghost, do you remember?"

Dean seemed to think for a while. "You mean that car accident?"

Sam nodded enthusiastic.

"Dean! What is that thing?!", Sam shouted, as his brother led him back to the Motel.

He didn't answer until they were right in front of their room. While fiddling after his keys, he answered: "I don't know, Sam, but I don't want to find out either."

Sam still held onto him, even after the door was closed and they've been safely in the room.

"Get the salt", said Dean, as he shook his brothers hand away.

Sam nodded and went to the kitchen. He opened the cupboards and took out the salt. He ran through the room and put salt in front of every window and the door.

Dean looked out of one of the windows and turned around as his brother told him, that he was ready. "Good. Put a circle of salt around your bed and go to sleep."

Sam went pale. "Sleep? You think I can sleep now? What about you?"

The older Winchester shook his head. "I'll stay awake. Come on, Sammy, I'll watch over you. I always do, don't I?"

Of course you do, thought Sam, as he watched his brother turning to the window again. You always watch over me.

Sam sighed and did as Dean asked. It was silent and even though Sam was tired, he didn't want to sleep. The lights were out and the only thing Sam could see was his brother's silhouette in the moonlight. He kept staring at it, until his eyes were too exhausted. Eventually he fell asleep.

Dean shrugged. "Yeah, I remember. The old Chevrolet Corvette. Pretty car. But, yeah, it wanted to kill me, so… Not my favorite car."

Sam nodded. "I saw it today."

"You…", Dean went pale. "No, Sammy, no. Dad got rid of it. The ghost is gone."

A shiver went down the younger brother's spine. "That's what I thought, too. But it was the car, I'm 100% sure. And it vanished, just like that, Dean."

He knew his older brother. And he knew when Dean was afraid. It was rare, but it happened now and then. And this was one of those moments. Fright flew over Dean's features and just for a second Sam thought that his brother would give in.

But suddenly he burst out into laughter. It was fake – of course it was. Sam knew his fake laugh. Still, it felt like he really didn't care.

"Oh, come on, Sam! You know it's not possible. That thing is dead. Dad sent it back to hell and there it'll stay forever", Dean said, as he made his way out of Sam's room. He followed him. "Can you imagine that? A car in hell? Would be interesting…"

Sam wanted to yell at him. Really bad. But he knew he shouldn't. Because Dean was scared. His older brother was scared. And he would never tell his younger brother, that he – Dean Winchester – was afraid of a ghost. Not, that it was a regular ghost. It was one that almost got him killed. It was hard for Sam to remember, who had been most terrified though.

Dean snapped him out of his thoughts. "It was just your imagination, little brother. Let's forget about it and see, if there's any work to do." He took a newspaper off the table and threw it at his younger brother. "There, look through it."

Sam caught it and sat down. "Why do I have to search for jobs? You can do it just as well!"

The older one laughed and made his way out. "Sorry, gotta get us some food! And for me some good pie! When I'm back there'll be a job to do, you hear me?"

"Sure", Sam answered, as he watched Dean leave. After he was completely sure that he was gone, he threw the paper away and closed his eyes. "Cas?", he asked, though he knew that it was useless. "Listen… I've been praying to you for… what? Weeks? Months? And you still won't answer me. I know you're not dead. I know that, but… It's about Dean. That ghost… It really is a bastard. Tried to kill him once. Almost got him… Cas, if you can hear me than please… please… Give me some kind of message. I believe in you."

Sam opened his eyes and – nothing. Exactly what he expected. He grabbed the paper again and began to read through it. After half an hour he seemed to have found something supernatural. He took his phone and dialed Dean's number… Nothing. He dialed his other phone… Nothing. His other phone… Nothing.

He grew impatient. That was not normal. Not at all. What if something happened to him? The car?!

Terrified, he jumped up and ran towards the door. He sprinted to a nearby standing car, cracked it open and short-circuited it. He drove towards the next shop, the next gas station the next mall… The Impala was nowhere to be found.

And then he stopped breathing, only for a brief moment. He rubbed his eyes, but it was not just a day-dream.

Dean!, screamed Sam's brain and heart and rage went through him. This was not good. Not at all. He would smash this car. And if it would be the last thing he would do… he'd do it.

A young woman accidently crushed into Sam and he had to keep her from falling. She apologized with a little blush on her cheeks and kept going, though as Sam looked back, to where the old Corvette stood, he was shocked. It was gone.

No, no, no, no! NO! Sam ran back to the car he stole and stopped. "Cas! Come on!"

Nothing.

"I'm begging you, Cas! It's about Dean, god dammit!"

"I'm sorry", a familiar voice said and as Sam wanted to turn around and look at the stupid angel-friend of his, something hit him and he felt to the floor. "I'm really sorry, Sam."

Then everything went black.