Sorry this chapter took so long to post, my little sister had her high school graduation party and I've been working like crazy getting ready for it. She wanted a fiesta with piñatas and stuff, so it was a beast to put together. Worth it for her, though. :)

Thanks for all the reviews, you guys are awesome!

Sam was freaked.

That in itself was nothing new. Sam got freaked out all the time; like when Dean's phone died on a hunt or when they got separated on a hunt or when the body they were supposed to burn went missing on a hunt, or…other things that ended with 'on a hunt.'

This was different. They hadn't been on a hunt this time; they had no background information, no suspects, no speculations, and no body to burn. This time the hunt had found them, and Sam knew next to nothing about what they were hunting.

"Tell me about zombies, Dean," Sam said, pacing around the hotel room like a caged lion. "What do you know? Have you seen one before, did Dad run into any of them?"

Dean sat on the corner of his bed, trying not to concentrate on the whole lot of nothing he could feel in his infected shoulder. He took a sip of water from a plastic cup and cringed at the lukewarm temperature. "I only know what I've seen in movies and video games," he answered, sitting the cup down on the dresser, "I've never actually seen one before. Thought they were one of the few monsters that weren't real."

Sam scowled. "Like we'd ever get that lucky," he said, and plopped down in front of his laptop. "Everything's real. Everything's out there and somehow we always run into everything, and everything is trying to kill us."

"Not everything," Dean protested weakly.

"Fairy tales, Dean," Sam said fiercely, "Fairy tales have tried to kill us."

"Welllll…yeah, but—"

"And now zombies? Zombies? I mean…what the hell kind of crap luck do we have that we run into zombies?" he typed something into a search engine, fingers pounding vengeance on the keyboard.

"Um," Dean said quickly, looking at his watch and standing. "You see what you can find online; I'm gonna go check out today's paper and see if I can scrounge up some old ones, see if anyone in town has gone missing."

Sam's eyes widened as though Dean had said 'I'm going to set the Impala on fire, drive it off a building, and land it in a two foot kiddie pool full of acid while blindfolded and juggling double-edged swords.' "No!" he nearly shouted, and then coughed. "No."

Dean groaned. "Sam, I'm fine."

"You're infected—"

"And I feel fine now, okay? Look if I start to feel even slightly sick I'll call you," he said. He smiled widely at Sam and bolted out the door, giving him one last exaggerated wave.

Sam stared after him. "Stupid jerk," he muttered, and got to work.

SNSNSN

When Dean walked in a few hours later, he was could tell by the look on Sam's face that he hadn't had any luck. Unfortunately, what he had found wasn't much better. "Twelve people," he said, dropping a stack of newspapers beside Sam on the desk.

Sam frowned. "Dead?"

"Missing," he said, "In the last two months. And…the obituary rates have skyrocketed."

"Coincidence?" Sam said distractedly, reading through one of the articles.

"Probably not," he answered, "Seeing as several of the deaths are listed as animal attacks or an unknown disease."

"Damn," Sam muttered, "There could be any number of these things loose in the woods."

Dean nodded and sat down in the chair opposite his brother. "So…find anything?" he said carefully.

Sam laughed. "Not really. Everything I read says they're just fictional. It's not like ghosts, there're no documentations of any zombies running around anywhere, just a lot of crap movies."

Dean winced. "Hey! Watch your mouth there Sammy."

"And I researched the town," Sam continued, "The last crime committed here was a minor shoplifting offence, and that was five years ago. The people here are practically saints. Jesus could live here."

"Who?"

Sam glared at him.

"Ohhhh, that Jesus," Dean said, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm pretty sure he's dead now, Sam. Sorry. He's not looking to buy property."

"Shut up," Sam snapped, "Stop trying to calm me down. I don't need calmed down."

Damn. "I wasn't—"

"Do you feel alright?" Sam demanded, switching tracks even as he typed something else.

"Yes," he said, exasperated. "I'm fine."

"And the bite, any change?"

"No, it's fine. Doesn't hurt."

"And—"

"Dude, I've only been gone an few hours, not days. Chill."

"Says here that it can take any amount of time for an infected person to become a zombie," Sam said tensely, "And Jason turned in less than a day."

"His bite was worse than mine, Sam. His throat was ripped out. Probably quickened the transformation."

"I know," Sam said, "But nothing on here is factual in any way and I don't have any real information to go on—"

On impulse, Dean reached over and snapped Sam's laptop shut. His brother let out a squeak. Dean would have found it hilarious if he hadn't looked so frantic. "Breathe," he commanded.

"Why did you—"

"Breathe before you give yourself a heart attack," Dean continued, pulling the laptop away when Sam reached to open it again, "And stop looking if you can't find anything."

"Maybe I missed something important."

"Sam, if you want to learn about zombies, watch Dawn of the Dead. Or Zombieland. Or—"

Sam shook his head. "Those are just fiction."

"Like zombies?" Dean shot back.

Sam growled.

"Fine," Dean said, cutting Sam off before he could yell again, "We won't watch any movies. What do we do?"

"I…" Sam sighed heavily and slumped in his chair. "I don't know. I don't know anything about zombies except that they're dead and walk around."

"That's pretty much the idea," Dean said, smiling.

"Yeah, but…with that many potential zombies out there it will be next to impossible to catch them all before they bite someone else or move to the next town and start eating people there."

"Already have, remember?" Dean said. "We don't know how far they've gotten."

Sam slumped further. "And I have no idea how to cure you," he said softly, almost too softly for Dean to hear.

"Well, we have to actually find some zombies first," Dean said, quickly changing the subject, "Right?" Come on Sammy, take the bait…

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Changing the subject on me?"

Nothing gets by you today, huh Sammy? "Did it work?"

"No."

"Damn."

"Dean…" Sam said quietly, "What if…what if we can't find a cure?"

Dean took a deep breath. "I saw a rainbow colored unicorn flying out by the post office. Want to go check it out?"

Sam blinked.

"Ha!" Dean exclaimed, pointing with triumph at his brother's face. "Distracted! In your face!"

Sam sat in silence for a moment, and then cracked a smile. "You're crazy."

"And you're a freak. Now that we've got that down, let's figure out how to find the zombies, shall we?"

Still half-smiling, Sam shrugged. "I have no idea where to even start looking," he said, "I mean, the forest is the most logical spot, but it'll take us forever to find them all in there. I hate to say it, but maybe we should alert some kind of health agency about the situation. They'd be better equipped to deal with this problem than we are…might be able to help with a cure, too."

Dean smirked. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"

"I'm serious. This isn't just a ghost, or…or ten ghosts. I can deal with ghosts. Or werewolves. Or vampires. Or—"

"Clowns?"

"Shut up," Sam snapped, "I just think we could use a little extra help on this one."

"No," Dean said, "Absolutely not."

"Why?"

"The Crazies."

Sam stared at him like he had grown a second head. "What are you talking about?"

"Virus gets in the water supply, people drink it and get infected, and the government comes in and blows the town off the map," he said.

"But—"

"Quarantine," Dean continued, "Some people in an apartment building get infected with a virus, and the government locks everyone in the building and won't let anyone out. Guess how that one ends?"

"Those are just movies, Dean."

"Yeah, well, you said yourself that there's nothing on zombies beside speculation and fiction."

"Fine," Sam said, standing up, "No outside help. How are we going to cure you?"

And we're back to that, are we? Alright. Dean paused, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't set his brother off. "Sam, we don't even know that I'm going to end up like Jason."

"You were bitten," Sam said, throwing his arms out, "Your bite looks the same as his."

"I don't feel any different," Dean said louder, trying to reassure his brother, "I feel fine. No desire to coat you with barbeque sauce and eat you or anything," he paused. "Not that you would taste good. You'd probably be all stringy."

Sam stared at him. "Barbeque sauce?" he said flatly.

Dean shrugged.

Sam rolled his eyes and sat back down. He reached out, pulled his laptop back over, and opened it.

Dean ran his hand over the newspaper clippings and then put his head down on the cool table, listening to the clicking of Sam's keyboard.

"I hate barbeque sauce," Sam said finally after a few minutes, "Too sweet."

Dean chuckled into his arms, his eyes still closed, "That's it. We're not related."

"There are plenty of things that I like that you think are disgusting."

"That's cause you're a health freak," Dean muttered. "You eat tofu."

Sam smiled.

"So, what did you really find out?" Dean asked, head still down, "Because you always find some kind of facts."

Sam shook his head, "Rabies," he said.

"That a movie?"

"No, it's what Mr. Mittens died from when I was eight."

"He ran away," Dean said quickly.

"Dad told me, Dean," Sam said, grinning, "Rabies."

"Damn," Dean muttered.

"Anyway," he said, "There are similarities between zombie infections and rabies. They're both transmitted through contaminated saliva and lead to dementia and the collapse of higher brain function. The person basically becomes an animal, living on instinct…" he paused. "So we just have to find the missing people and destroy their brains."

"Fun," Dean said, his head still down. "That'll be great fun."

It was his tone that set off alarm bells in Sam's head. Or, more specifically, the lack tone. He didn't sound like Dean. "Are you okay?" he said, putting down his laptop screen again.

"M'fine," Dean said, "Just tired."

Sam's inner alarm bells screeched.

"Okay," Sam said, trying not to freak. He's fine, nothing's wrong. He was up all night for crying out loud, it's not like he shouldn't be tired. "Maybe you should take a nap."

"Nah, I'm good," Dean said, burrowing his head deeper into his arms, "You jus'keep looking for stuff."

"What stuff?" Sam asked, heart rate rising.

"Stuff you were looking for."

"And what was that?" Sam demanded levelly, "What was I looking for?"

There was a pause.

"Dean?"

Dean raised his head up off the table, a strange look on his face. "I…I have no idea."

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