The lack of discourse was disheartening and Sam found himself in a gloomy frame of mind. He spared a quick glance at his brother and surmised Dean was partly tired plus hungry but mostly vexed at being manipulated into changing his mind about going back to the woman's house. Fortunately, one problem was able to soon be remedied.

And so Dean drove in search of food, haphazardly weaving around the slower cars and keeping his focus on not careening off the road. Sam had lifted a hand onto the dashboard a few times but did not complain; he knew to give his big brother a wide berth when he acted like this.

It did not take long before they came upon the outskirts of town and located a suitable restaurant. Sam and Dean took turns stating their order into the drive-thru speaker then Dean hastily pulled up to the window. His only acknowledgement of the teenaged employee was to exchange money for the value meals.

Now Dean took his time, cruising carefully along the artificially lit streets with one hand on the wheel while the other held a cheeseburger. The nineteen year old made it appear as though he was otherwise preoccupied by eating and driving. Sam pressed his lips together when he noticed how fast his brother was eating; each time they passed under a streetlight, he could see Dean's burger had shrunk another bite.

Navigating Henderson during the day was quite a contrast when doing the same at night; there were many more pedestrians around. Sam wanted to say, 'looks like this is the time to come out of the woodwork,' but he kept the thought to himself, only snorted softly at it.

Dean heard it and gawked at him, one eyebrow raised. Though Dean still had not spoken, this signaled to Sam that his brother was making his way out of the pit of annoyance - he just did not know it would happen simply because of several bites of food; Dean was still highly unpredictable.

After several minutes they were once again stopped at a red-light and Dean looked at his brother appraisingly. "So…what do you think of Caleb?"

Sam nearly dropped his drink at the unexpected sound of Dean's voice and whipped his head toward the driver's side. He simultaneously caught sight of the light turning green in his peripheral vision and Dean quickly returned to facing forward, his countenance hidden in the shadows. Sam only had Dean's tone of voice to go on and he seemed back to being in good spirits.

Sam suddenly felt jealousy enhanced with a twinge of disorientation at his big brother's capacity for forgiveness. He was not ready to reciprocate; he slumped in his seat and retorted, "he's one of the few people Dad trusts to be alone with us…what do you think?"

"Don't have one of your episodes, 'kay?" Dean growled while viciously crumpling up his burger wrapper and throwing it in the back. "Forget Dad…I'm just asking what you think of him."

"I was with him, what…half an hour maybe?" Sam shrugged. "We didn't really have time to talk before you and Dad came back…but he's nice. Make sure Dad doesn't punch him in the face just for talking to me."

Dean shot his brother a puzzled look then understanding dawned on him as he recalled that incident Sam was referring to.

'His dad and brother were at it again. They had yet another fight over leaving so Sam was ordered to the motel office to check out while he and their dad finished packing the car. Suddenly shouting, loud enough to cross the parking lot, could be heard coming from where Sam had just entered a minute earlier. His dad didn't hesitate to rush right over and barge through the entrance. Just as his dad disappeared past the door, there was more yelling and it was now his father's voice. He hurried over to see what was going on, opening the door to a scene where the manager was lying unconscious in a corner. His dad stormed past him, back outside while Sammy's eyes met his and mirrored the shock he felt.'

"You're bringing that up again? It was over two months ago and was just one time…plus you know Dad thought he had it coming to him…"

"I tried to tell Dad he wasn't yelling at me."

Dean, having not been present for the entire situation, shrugged.

Sam said nothing more. He dropped his mostly eaten chicken sandwich into the bag and placed it on the floor by his feet then put his soda cup between his legs. He conveyed his discontent by crossing his arms and facing out his window just as they came upon a four-way intersection. Dean stopped the car then scanned the area with an air of uncertainty.

Sam observed that virtually identical appearing homes were laid out in each direction before them. "Are you sure you remember the way?" he asked sarcastically.

"Of course I remember, ya little shit," Dean replied and with a spin of the wheel to the left he brought the car back up to speed. "I was just giving you one last chance to change your mind about this…we're actually here…this is Ecce Way and coming up on your right is the house…" nodding his head directly at it as they passed alongside "…one ninety-eight."

Sam instantly followed Dean's stare and gave full attention out his window. There was not much he could make out; the house was shrouded in darkness, not a single light on anywhere.

"Okay Sam, remember to pay attention to all the turns I take…starting now," Dean said as they arrived to an intersection at the end of the street.

Sam sighed in exasperation. "I'm not an idiot, you know," he mumbled.

Dean rolled his eyes.

0000000000000000

Camouflaged by the night sky, four plumes of black smoke swirled along a stretch of an unpopulated area in the desert. The demons simultaneously listened in on the brothers' conversation taking place within the Impala while trying to hatch a plot that would successfully allow them to kidnap Sam Winchester.

"Did he say one ninety-eight?" asked Anthony.

"That's what I thought…198 Ecce Way," replied another who called himself Christian.

Jason said, "here's what we'll do. The quickest way to figure out that location and take Sam would be as police…set up some reason to get Sam in the car and we can bring him straight to Ian."

"Genius," said Anthony with excitement, already relishing the thought of the reward Ian promised.

"But what about…" Christian began.

"Well handle everything else as it comes up. Just follow my lead," Jason commanded.

Almost appearing as one cloud, they shot ahead and flew alongside the nearest road toward town.

00000000000000000000

Dean guided the Impala through the roads that twisted and angled away from the neighborhood population. A good half mile further, the streetlights had since disappeared and there were no longer any signs of houses as far as the eye could see.

Headlights cut through vast darkness and revealed a dirt road to the older Winchester who directed the vehicle on to it. It turned out to be a dead-end; a suitable area to park with some rather tall boulders and proximal bushes for the car to hide behind.

Shutting off the engine, Dean registered the weight of his little brother's stare and turned to face him. "So why'd you got your bitch face on for?"

"Why so careful?"

"You're joking, right?" Dean sighed at Sam's continued glare. "Because we're about to go into a house with a dead body inside."

"Can't we at least try to find somewhere a little closer?"

"We can't risk anyone reporting our car in the area," Dean replied in measured patience. "If we are seen, it won't be just evil bastards we need to worry about."

"But it's so damn hot out…

"Aw, Sammy…what? You worried your hairstyle is gonna frizz up after all the time you put into it?" Dean reached out to ruffle his hair and Sam jerked his head away to the right. "Don't worry," he chuckled, "it's a dry heat."

"Cut it out, Dean…never mind…let's just go." Sam pushed open the door, jumped out then slammed it shut and started marching forward.

Before exiting the car, Dean quickly opened the glove compartment and snatched the flashlight. He caught up to Sam after several long strides down the gently sloping hill and set the pace staying just one step ahead. With Sam flanking him, they made their way along the road bathed deep in shadows, to which their eyes adjusted with help from the faint light of the moon.

Moments later Dean groaned. "I could use an ice cold beer right about now…don't think I've felt a single breeze since we got to Nevada."

Sam gave his brother a sidelong glance. "You know Dean, I was thinking of you when I said we shouldn't park so far."

"You're just saying that to get on my good side for coming with you on this goose chase."

"No, it's the truth…hey, if we do find something, you have to do all the laundry for six months," Sam quipped.

"And if this turns out to be a colossal waste of time, you have to do it…and promise to stop fighting with Dad." Dean shook his head. "I swear, only you know how to push his buttons."

"And with you the man turns into a pile of mush."

"Shaddup." Without breaking their stride, Dean rotated slightly to shove his brother's shoulder. Sam staggered back a step then rushed forward to do the same but Dean jumped to the left and leaned out of reach.

"Hey, Dean…why didn't Dad report finding the body?"

"He has his reasons."

Sam huffed and spread his arms in frustration. "You always say that."

"Yeah, well Dad not talking ain't nothing new…I guess maybe he's still not one-hundred percent sure what to do yet…oh yeah and it depends if this person and the evil witch are one in the same. Now shut up…we'll be coming up on some houses soon."

Sam continued to follow Dean. When they came to the streets lined with homes, as rapidly as possible, they traced a path that led them back to Ecce Way. Occasionally, Dean relied on Sam to signal whether to go left or right. The boys kept off the sidewalks; they lurked along the shadows to remain hidden from people in random cars passing by or anyone who might be looking out their window.

Once they arrived at the back door of the house Dean did not hesitate and slid it open.

Suddenly an awful odor assaulted his nose as soon as Dean moved to enter. "Ugh," he moaned and pushed past Sam back outside. "The smell wasn't here before…" once again he stuck his head inside and took another shallow breath "…it's not the usual rotting corpse smell."

Sam tilted his head in and lightly inhaled. "Yeah, that's weird," Sam whispered. "Maybe it's to do with the high heat in this region?"

"I don't know…there's just something else about it I can't place. How about we go back to Caleb's…see if he has a robotic camera on wheels stashed away somewhere."

"Come on, Dean…we're here…just pull up your shirt."

Dean poked Sam in the back. "I can tell it's bothering you, too."

"No you can't because it's not."

"Liar," Dean hissed.

"Am not…I must be tougher than you I guess…so after this you can stop calling me Samantha."

"Well, I can always think of some other name."

Sam smiled despite himself. Though he would never voice it, he actually liked it when Dean picked on him - at times. Meanwhile, he noticed his big brother still had his nose wrinkled. "If it bothers you so much, you can keep watch outside," he said, keeping his voice low.

"No way…it's bad enough I let you talk me into this but you are not going in by yourself."

"I can take care of myself," Sam protested then turned to enter, shoulder checking his brother on the way by.

"Jeez, you're stubborn," Dean muttered and turned on his flashlight. He followed close behind with one hand directing the beam down, the other holding up his shirt over his nose.

Five steps in and the brothers stopped to look down at the body, Sam now raising his shirt to his nose as well.

"She was stabbed," Sam observed, his voice muffled.

"Wow…you think, Einstein?" Dean mocked from beneath his shirt. "Let's get out of this room before I pass out…where do you want to look first?"

"No, I want to see if there's a basement and it might be around here."

"What the hell are you talkin' about? Houses here don't have…"

"That's what I thought at first but I was talking to Caleb and it came up that he has a basement. He told me some houses do…and I thought it was worth checking out." Sam walked around the body, across the kitchen, to the far wall which was completely void of cabinets and counter space. 'This looks like a good place to start,' he thought.

"Yeah, well, we never saw one." Dean stayed where he was, not convinced. He watched Sam raise his arm up and started running his hand along the smooth painted surface. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I read somewhere that witches in some cases use some camouflage spell to hide things or make us think we're not seeing it."

After a few seconds, Sam suddenly halted and gasped in surprise. "I feel something, Dean…" Sam squinted his eyes and leaned in, leaving an inch between his nose and the wall, then slid his hand up and down vertically, "…it feels like a door frame but I still am not seeing it, are you?"

Without a word, Dean quickly stepped forward and joined Sam's movements. To his surprise, he did touch a hard raised edge of wood; felt but not seen. Then guided his hand six inches to the left and slightly forward; to their shock, as his fingers pushed past the camouflage it blinked out and the door came into view. Dean's jaw dropped just then. "Holy shit!"

"Looks like we found the basement," Sam stated with muted excitement.

"Yeah, looks like," Dean said, not trying to hide the awe he felt.

Sam grasped the knob but it did not turn then saw it was one with a key hole. "Did you bring it?"

Dean, still blindsided by the sudden appearance of a door, could not process what Sam was asking. His eyebrows narrowed and he gave a quick shake of his head. "Dude, what are you talking about? I usually hear that from chicks when…"

Sam sighed in exasperation. "Get your mind out of the gutter…I'm talking about the lock pick. You brought it, didn't you?"

"No…just start looking around for something."

Dean and Sam split up to opposite ends of the kitchen. They both had long since let go of their shirts once the foul odor no longer bothered them and were able to perform the searching of drawers with both hands.

"I think I found the junk drawer," Sam announced. "Shine the light here for me." Dean complied and he rummaged around; in a manner of seconds, Sam held up a large paperclip and added, "got something."

Both returned to the door and Dean watched as Sam squatted down, unfolded the paperclip and inserted it into the keyhole. In quick succession he released the lock, pulled out the clip, turned the knob then pushed the door open. Dean leaned in with the flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness and revealing wooden stairs descending down.

Sam stood, now positioned behind Dean and suddenly felt the skin on the back of his neck tingle. But he did not want Dean to think he was scared and tried to ignore it. "I was right about there being a basement…I should check it out."

Dean's mouth suddenly went dry and his jaw clenched at the role reversal; he was usually the one to lead the way. "Whoa, whoa, whoa…what's with the 'I'?"

"It was my idea there might be a basement and I'm going in," he said and attempted to push his way past. "We should find out what's down there…it's obviously very important."

His little brother following in his footsteps to this extent brought about unpleasant feelings churning in his chest; he was not his dad. Dean blocked the door and said, "slow down tough guy…we should bring Dad in on this."

"We leave now, maybe Dad won't give us the chance to come back and look around."

Dean paused, considering. 'Sam wouldn't be wrong about that,' he agreed to himself but said, "right, but let's not go barging in there…let me think for a minute." Dean returned to focus once again on the stairs and caught sight of a light switch on the wall to his left.

His shoulder twisted with the motion of his free hand reaching over to flick the switch and with that, the area was illuminated. "Gross!" Dean pulled back, turned three quarters and Sam saw a look of disgust on his face; before he had a chance to react, Dean wiped his hand on the front of Sam's shirt.

Sam smacked his hand away and fixed an angry glare at his brother. "Dude!"

Dean shrugged. "There was something slimy on the wall." He then set his flashlight down, straightened up then opened his mouth to tell Sam that he should go down first.

Suddenly there was a faint pop, it seemed like it came from the second floor. Sam and Dean stilled and listened. Then another pop sounded from somewhere else then another, slightly louder, a couple of rooms away.

Dean sniffed the air as a new scent penetrated his nose. 'Smoke!' They shared a look, two sets of eyes wide, and Sam voiced Dean's thought, "we should go."

Suddenly a different noise, more like a sizzling sound, erupted behind them. They simultaneously whirled about, a move that caused Dean to pitch slightly to the side; he had to rapidly shift his weight to his other leg to remain vertical. Shaking his head to try and clear his increasingly fuzzy vision, he and his brother saw where the body had been now appeared as an outline of dust. "What the…" he heard Sam say, his voice making him feel as if he were underwater and Dean's frown deepened.

More popping at various locations throughout the house ensued. Sam shot Dean one more look conveying an urgent need to evacuate before the younger man started toward the back door.

Dean moaned; his head now felt as if it were floating free of his body – a body which he had a hard time getting to move. Still, he had the presence of mind to not forget his flashlight and clumsily stepped forward to retrieve it. Bending over, Dean instantly lost all sensation throughout his entire body. "Fuck! Sam, get out! Call Dad," Dean cried but, even to his ears, it was with all the coherency of a foreign language. His last feeling was one of fear for Sam's safety; his vision clouded completely and all at once he knew no more.

Sam spun around at the sound of Dean's voice, just in time to witness his big brother's eyes rolling up then his body collapsing toward the basement, tumbling down the stairs. "Dean!" He ran back to the basement door and saw Dean crashing down them. It happened so fast that Sam could only watch in horror as Dean slammed to a stop onto the floor below, his head cracking on the concrete surface.

By this time, black smoke now billowed in to the kitchen from the next room. Even though the only thing Sam understood from Dean's last words was the obscenity, his brother's tone of voice gave him a sense of what he was trying to communicate – 'get the hell out!'; Sam had no intention of doing so just yet.

In the basement, more popping sounds combined with a thick haze and faint flickers of light meant the fire was now all around them. Dean's body was sprawled out but there were no weird angles of his arms or legs. Sam was relieved but it was short-lived for he could not get past the sound his brother's skull hitting the floor.

Certain that Dean had come in contact with a substance to cause him to shut down, Sam did his best to close the distance, careful not to touch anything, yet quickly for he knew they did not have much time. Sam swallowed around the lump in his throat, unable to take his eyes off his unmoving brother as he made his way down the stairs.

Sam reached Dean without incident. He crouched down next to him, placed fingers on his neck and blew out a breath upon feeling a strong pulse; he also saw no problems with his breathing and no bleeding.

Next Sam shook Dean gently so as not to move him in case he had a spinal injury but his big brother did not rouse. Sam felt around for injuries and nothing alarmed him when he passed over the spine and skull. He had to get Dean out now before they suffocated on the smoke and the only way to do that would be to carry him.

The encroaching smoke brought tears to Sam's eyes as they darted around to see how close the flames were. Coughing and choking, he observed what appeared to have been large crates, all now burning, the closest one a mere four feet away. He also happened to see shelves on the nearest wall lined with ornate vases and other objects of what looked like ingredients for spell work.

The wail of sirens, faint at first, penetrated his awareness. 'Somebody must have seen us and called the cops,' he thought. They were definitely getting louder, coming toward his location and then Sam realized those were fire truck sirens.

Without delay, Sam hauled Dean over his shoulder and stood up, legs shaky under the added weight. It was pure adrenaline that enabled Sam, now gasping for oxygen, to carry Dean up the stairs and out into the kitchen. He was wheezing as the entire room was overrun by black smoke. Rapidly advancing flames licked at his left leg, scorching his jeans.

A quick glance to his left reminded him that the witch's body was truly gone but for an outline of dust. 'At least we're not gonna be accused of murder,' Sam realized crazily as he burst through the fire blocking the back door and was bombarded by the intense activity from an arriving team of first responders. The closest happened to be the firefighters running around, each with their assigned roles.

Sam drew in deep breath after deep breath as he staggered out further among the commotion. The lit up scene before him was made blurry with his watering eyes. Flashing red lights were all around, flashlights held by crew were bobbing with all their racing around and neighboring homes had their lights on as well, the residents staring out their windows or stepping through their front doors.

Suddenly one of the firefighters was in his face and asked in an urgent tone, "is there anyone else in there?"

Sam shook his head and managed to gasp, "no, just us."

The fireman nodded then raised an arm and signaled. Sam did not see him approach but suddenly a paramedic dressed in dark blue scrubs stood before him. Hands were on him, pulling him and his unconscious brother further away. When a safe distance was reached, they stopped and Sam collapsed with a cry onto his knees, unable to make it any further.

He felt Dean lifted off his shoulders from someone behind him. Still panting, Sam looked up, blinking, and observed two more paramedics, each pushing a gurney with large bags on top, coming closer. One stopped in front of him and the other veered off. Dean was gently placed on top of the stretcher meant for him and instantly underwent an assessment by three medics as they crowded around him.

Scared for Dean but feeling like a large weight was pressing down, making him lack the strength to go to him, Sam began to hyperventilate; panic was creeping in more and more with each rapid breath irritating his raw throat, still somehow unable to feel like he was getting enough air. Somewhere in his mind, Sam was aware of all the activity going on around him but it was a distant buzzing and he felt his eyelids grow heavy.

An oxygen mask was placed on his face and a concerned face appeared in his line of sight. "You're okay," he said. "Take slow breaths, in through your nose." Sam complied and his condition gradually improved. After about a minute, Sam heard him ask, "do you think you can stand?" He nodded and was helped up then led the remaining distance, physically guided to sit on his stretcher.

A couple of police officers approached Sam while the medic was searching his bag for something. "Kid, you are lucky me and my partner happened to be driving by when we were" one of them said with an air of superiority.

Sam nodded dully, not taking his eyes off Dean who was still lying motionless as the personnel worked over him. One was bent forward, listening to his heart and another was securing him in a neck brace.

"What's your name?" The medic asked as he stood and did a quick once over.

"It's Sam."

"Sam? I'm Lucas…I'm going to give you a quick assessment…" he raised a stethoscope over Sam's wildly beating heart but was satisfied with its steady rhythm then auscultated his lungs, shone a small light into one eye then the next then did a quick visual inspection, all with rapid efficiency that spoke experience "…now, can you tell me about that guy you brought out…what's his name…what happened to him?"

Sam gazed over at his brother again. Dean continued to lay unmoving, his face pale and smudged with soot. Sam considered he must look as dirty before answering, "his name is Dean. He…he fell down the basement stairs, trying to grab something before getting out. I think he hit his head."

"Your brother, huh? Does he have any allergies?"

"No."

Lucas nodded then he turned, reached down into his bag and grabbed a bottle of water and handed it to Sam then asked, "are you still doing alright?"

"Yeah...thanks."

"You're welcome…I'm gonna run over there…" he nodded to the workers huddled around Dean "…tell them what you told me." Lucas looked at the officers with an uncertain expression.

"Go on," the other one said, smirking. "We'll watch him…I have a few more questions."

"Thanks, I'll see if they need my help with anything then," Lucas replied then strode away.

Right away, Sam guzzled the water which brought a huge comfort to his scorched throat. Murmurs of disbelief from a crowd of people adjacent to him filtered his way; he joined them in staring at the awful scene before him, sharing in their shock as the house seemed to burn with more intensity despite the best efforts of the fire crew and their hoses. Right then an inhuman moaning silenced everyone and he watched openmouthed as the house collapsed in the all-consuming fire. "Holy shit!" someone from the bystander crowd called out. Suddenly the reality that he just barely got him and Dean out crashed through him with the force of a truck; all the emotion went straight to his stomach and he swallowed down a rising tide of nausea.

"So, Sam, I'm Evans but friends call me Anthony," the first officer opened with. Sam had forgotten they were there and acknowledged the introduction with a dubious expression. "That was sure some fire…" he nodded toward the house "…never saw a structure taken down so fast before…you were lucky to get out at all, let alone on your own power. Have any idea how it started?"

Sam was not surprised at the question, 'who would think such a fire was of natural causes, after all?' Not having an answer to offer, he gaze shifted back to where his brother was and watched as a medic was placing an IV into Dean's arm and another covering his still form with a blanket. "Well, he's ready for transport."

The first officer cleared his throat impatiently.

Sam met the inquisitive glare full on and replied, "no. I was sleeping…next thing I know my brother was waking me up to get out…"

Out of the corner of his eye, Sam saw Dean rolled toward the ambulance and pushed in through the back. The doors were shut and a paramedic ran around to the front and got behind the wheel. The vehicles sirens were activated and it zoomed away.

"Uh, huh…" Evans stepped sideways to get Sam's attention "…do you live here?"

Sam paused before replying, still staring where his brother's ambulance once was. "No. Me and my brother were watching the place for the woman who lives here," Sam said. "She's…uh…she left yesterday."

"Where do you live?" The second officer, who never offered his name, asked.

"Uh…well, we're not from around here…we're here on vacation."

"So how do you and this woman know each other?"

"We're staying with a friend who knows her and he was watching the place…when we came, he asked us if we wanted to make some extra money doing it for him…he has a full time job…"

"And what's this guy's name?"

"Uh…it's…"

Lucas returned just then with a sneer for the police officers. "It's time to go. This poor kid has been through a lot, stop harassing him."

Sam's skin started to crawl when he noticed how the three of them were looking at him. He shook his head. "I'm okay, I don't need to go. If you tell me the hospital my brother went to I can call my dad…" he started to push himself off the stretcher "…can I borrow a phone?"

Lucas placed a hand on Sam's chest, effectively keeping him sitting. "You just came out of a burning house…you need to be checked out by a doctor." Lucas lifted his legs and pushed his shoulders down in one fluid move.

"But…" Sam flinched when he unexpectedly felt a sharp pinch just below his shoulder.

"No arguments," Evans said. "You'll do what he says."

With Evans on his right, Lucas on his left and the other officer at his feet, Sam was whisked along. His head was spinning trying to figure the situation he was in…he never experienced this before and was not sure what to do. He cringed but his tired mind could not decide on any other options but to comply. Exhaustion was starting to take over and all he wanted was to get to the hospital in the quickest way possible to see Dean. Nothing else mattered. 'Just relax. Dean will be okay…everything will be okay once I call Dad,' he told himself, sighed and closed his eyes.

Once they pushed the stretcher and the sleeping patient into the back of the ambulance, Anthony looked at Lucas who was now possessed by Jason. "Let me ride in the back with you. Christian can drive and Frank can return the squad car."

000000000000000000

Heading back to his house, Caleb kept glancing over at John who appeared to be lost in thought. John, however, noticed and wondered, 'is he gonna tell me what's with him or is he gonna keep looking at me all night?'

"Alright…that's enough!" Caleb announced as if reading John's mind. "I took you out and you drank like a fish by the way…then we went shopping, like you wanted, at the grocery store, one of the safest places to talk freely, by the way, and in all that time there is still one key bit of information you neglected to share. What do you plan to do with the dead body you found? Of all that's happening, I have more questions than answers but right now, that's the one that's buggin' me the most."

John stared at him, nonplussed. "You done?"

"Yeah."

"You're not gonna like it," John said, hesitating.

Caleb scoffed at that. "You? Afraid to say what's on your mind?"

John shrugged. "Well, the thing is, we're gonna leave the body alone for now…and it could take days. If after I find out for sure this was the witch, you and me will take it and burn it…if she wasn't the witch, will give an anonymous tip."

"You're right, I don't like it…do you know how fast a corpse turns ripe when left in a sweltering home in the summer in the desert heat?"

"I'm gonna need your help in trying not to think about it."

"Someone passing by with their dog on a leash is gonna pick up the scent sooner rather than later."

"Don't we live in a time when people ignore their neighbors?"

"In some cases just the opposite."

"If that happens, then you'll help me sneak in to the morgue and take it if we need to."

"God, I knew I should have stuck with engineering school," Caleb said as he pulled onto his street and noticed that his driveway was empty. "Uh…John, does Dean relieve his insomnia by taking off in the middle of the night in search of food or sex even?"

John's head shot up to look out the windshield. "No…but I bet I know where they went…to that woman's house and I bet Sam's behind this," John growled.

Caleb pulled into his driveway, shifted into reverse and turned the car back around. A flash of light from a street lamp passed over their faces; he caught sight of John's expression and felt compelled to say, "whoa…easy John…let's just get there and we'll see for ourselves first hand."