Author's Note:

You guys are all being fabulous, and I'm so glad you're enjoying it!

Thanks to T. L. Arens, SPN Mum, Katlover98, and aliengirlguy for their reviews on chapter 2!

Chapter 3 - It Shouldn't Be This Hard

Sam awoke the next morning the same way he awoke every morning. He felt mentally drained, but his body was refreshed enough from the sleep he'd gotten that he was functional. It was always worse the morning after nights where Lucifer had hurt him physically. None of the pain remained once he awoke, but he would have phantom feelings all day as a result. Lucifer had offered from the beginning to avoid the mental torture sessions if Sam would just play along when he showed up in the guise of one of Sam's loved ones, but Sam refused to give him the satisfaction.

Showing up as Dean was new though, and Sam wasn't sure how long he could last under that particular torment. Being tortured in his dreams was one thing, but being tortured by a being that looked like his brother was ten times harder. Sam distracted himself from the previous night by pulling out his laptop, reading to research. He needed now more than ever to finish what he'd set out to do.

It shouldn't have surprised him that he had an e-mail from Bobby already, but somehow it did. He opened the message, wondering what his surrogate father had to say. He probably wasn't happy with the Winchesters splitting up again.

To: Sam Winchester

From: Robert Singer

Subject: THE HELL, BOY?!

Sam,

Imagine my surprise when I get a call from your brother and he lets slip that you two have split up again. He's neck deep in some bizarre hunt, by the way, which is the only reason I even got a damn call. Apparently he's dealing the melting hearts, so maybe you caught a break missing out on that one. It seems I can't call and give you a piece of my mind, so you need to read this e-mail and imagine me knocking both of your heads together. Didn't we already do this whole separation thing? When I was trying to talk some sense into your fool brother I almost told him about your little Oklahoma adventure, but I decided that's something you need to tell him about. But, since I mentioned it, you do remember being attacked by hunters while you two were apart, right? Apparently you're hiding out somewhere now, but, Sam, you were laying low before too. I just don't want you boys getting hurt because you're having trouble reconciling with each other.

Don't think I'm the only one worried, either. Castiel was here not even an hour ago, asking if I had any idea how to track you down. I'm not sure I've ever seen that angel look so concerned, so you'd better take note. He kinda rambled something about angelic interference and that it was dangerous for you to be alone, and then he took off when I couldn't really help him. So, I guess Castiel is looking for you, just so you know. If I were you, I'd let him find you. He's seriously worried about something.

I don't expect this is convincing you to change your mind, but if you need any help doing whatever it is you're doing, you call me, boy, you hear? Hell, call Dean, even if it's just to check in. We'd all like to know you're alive, at least. Castiel definitely wants to find you for whatever reason, so you've clearly got him on your side too. I don't know where you've run off to, but you're not alone regardless, okay?

I guess that's enough said. Anyway, call me, or e-mail, or whatever if you need anything. Anything, all right?

- Bobby

Sam tapped his fingers against the counter top absently, staring at the message with pursed lips. He didn't want Bobby to worry, but at the same time, he couldn't call to reassure anyone he was alive when the whole point of him being gone was to find a way not to be. Still, leaving Bobby hanging would cause the man undue stress, and Sam was curious why Castiel was already looking for him, and what was so urgent. He couldn't call or pray to the angel without giving him an easy way to find Sam's base camp, but maybe Bobby could be his liaison.

To: Robert Singer

From: Sam Winchester

Subject: Relax

Bobby,

Don't worry about it. We hit some rough patches lately, and I was having trouble keeping my focus, which was causing distractions for Dean. It's safer for him if I'm out of the way. He needs to focus on ending the apocalypse, and I'll focus on the one problem I can fix. Which reminds me, have Dean look into possible witch activity in that area. There were some odd things in the news reports I had planned to look into before labeling it an open and shut werewolf case, so make sure he takes another look at the articles with that mindset.

Anyway, about Cas. Did he say anything about why he was looking for me? I don't want anyone to know where I am, just in case, but maybe if he relays messages through you, he can tell me what's so important. I doubt he's just freaked because Dean and I split up, so something else has to be up. You'll be able to reach me at this e-mail, so I guess let me know if you find out anything.

- Sam

He sent the e-mail, then leaned back in his chair to consider the computer thoughtfully. Castiel was Dean's angel, so anything that had him that worried about Sam must be about Dean. 'Angelic interference' sounded ominous, so maybe one of Michael's people was after Dean, and Castiel thought Sam could help stop it somehow? The more Sam thought about it, the less sense it made. Eventually, he closed out of his e-mail and began to pull up research links. He needed to find a way to end the danger.

If he was like anyone else, then the first seven attempts at suicide he's tried would have worked easily. He'd hit all the classics. Gunshot, strangulation, bleeding out, overdose, electrocution, drowning, and jumping into a ravine. None had left him dead for more than a few hours, which was hardly practical. Ideally, he needed some kind of spell or ritual that would allow him to do one of those things without coming back. Surely something like that existed.

"Sam, give it up. This is a useless endeavor, and you'll only be hurting yourself." Lucifer's voice entered his mind from a distance, distracting him from the laptop screen.

Sam inhaled sharply and got up, moving over to his wallet to pull out the razor blade. The part of his brain that had allowed his visions also apparently made him susceptible to incoming messages from Lucifer whenever the archangel felt like it. It wasn't often, but the only thing that would end the visit were a few well placed slices on his arm. Usually one was enough, but Sam typically did two, just to be safe. Today, Lucifer continued to ridicule his plan after one, so Sam added the second and third in quick succession, sighing with relief as the endorphin rush flooded him and the devil shut up.

Satisfied, Sam made sure his shirt was pulled out of the way so he wouldn't get blood on it, and returned to the computer. He would disinfect the wounds after the bleeding had slowed. Allowing the pain to linger was more effective than immediately caring for the wounds, as he'd learned a long time ago. Focusing on the webpage in front of him, Sam scanned it for information on Mayan Death Rituals. Everything sounded way too elaborate and steeped in legend. He wasn't sure he had the kind of time to be wasting on that information. He bookmarked the site regardless. He couldn't afford to lose any leads, so he would come back to the Mayan information if nothing else panned out.

Clicking the next link, Sam began to explore the varied Native American rituals that had been recorded over the years. Most weren't relevant, but a few he highlighted and saved. Perhaps a combination of several methods would end up being his solution.

Dean answered his phone on the second ring. "Yeah, Bobby?"

"Well, I haven't found anything, but Sam e-mailed me back and said he thought there were some weird things in the news reports for your case. Since it isn't a werewolf, his next guess was witches." Bobby informed him gruffly, sounding irritated by something.

Dean sighed loudly. "That fits with what Cas was able to tell me when I called him. He said he could sense magic in the town, but not its source, then he took off to go take care of something. What do you mean Sam e-mailed you? Why didn't you just call him?"

"Because his voicemail message is set up to tell people to e-mail him because he's gone off the grid," Bobby snarked at him. "And your angel came here after he left you, wanting my help tracking down Sam."

Processing the fact that Sam had apparently gone into hiding, Dean asked absently, "Why does Cas want Sam?"

"He didn't tell me, but he made it sound like it was important," Bobby told him. "Also, if Sam told me that you were going to stop the apocalypse and he was going to fix the only problem he could, what the hell would you assume he meant by that?"

Dean frowned. "That sounds kind of melodramatic. He wasn't more specific than that?"

"No, and I'm afraid he's going to do something stupid," Bobby griped.

"Like Lucifer stupid?" Dean asked immediately, his tone wary.

"No, you idjit!" Bobby snapped. "Have a little faith in your brother, would you?"

Dean was silent, electing not to step on that particular landmine.

"Huh," Bobby commented after a moment. "I guess that explains what Sam meant by rough patches."

Still not answering, Dean shifted uncomfortably and scratched his shoulder, ignoring the pang that went through him as his arm brushed across the place his amulet should have been.

"Look, I'm just saying that Sam tends to take on way more than he's responsible for, and he could get himself hurt. Can you at least try to find out what he's planning?" Bobby asked.

Dean shrugged, even though he knew Bobby couldn't see him. "He's more likely to tell you."

Unfortunately, Bobby wasn't sure if that was true or not. "I'll try, but so should you. I'm not planning to lose either one of you, you hear me?"

"I hear you, Bobby. I'll shoot him an e-mail tonight, okay?" Dean wondered if the library would still be open when he finished what he could do on the hunt for the day. He found he didn't really care if he got around to the e-mail or not, and thought maybe he should feel bad about that. He was too tired to really try.

"Good. Let me know if you hear anything, and be careful on this hunt, all right?" Bobby warned him.

"I'll do my best," Dean promised. He hung up the phone, tapping it against his chin casually as he thought. He probably shouldn't have been surprised that Sam had effectively gone off the grid, but he was. Of course, having an e-mail wasn't really off the grid, but maybe Sam just wanted to make sure he wasn't causing Bobby undue worry. That seemed like something Sam would be concerned about.

Sighing, Dean started the engine in the Impala and headed towards the latest victim's house. If witches were involved, then there would be evidence. He just needed to find it.