AN: Sorry for the long wait. Life is busy at the moment. Thank you so much for all those who took the time to leave a review. Reviews make my day! Now enjoy chapter four.

CHAPTER 4

"Tyler's ghost is wearing the necklace."

Sam turned to Dean, a puzzled look on his face. Then he pulled up his eyebrows and nodded slowly. "You're right." Dean smirked.

"It means that Tyler must have died on the premises, too, and his remains are buried there as well."

"And Jeremy seems to be tied to the necklace," I offered, making two heads turn to me.

"Your school buddy's a quick learner, Sammy," Dean winked and turned to start the engine of his baby. "Only funny that the old lady seems to know nothing of Tyler being dead, let alone him being buried there."

"Maybe she does," I mumbled, more to myself than to the brothers. Dean glanced back at me before training his eyes back on the road. It was almost like I could see the wheels turning in Dean's brain. Then, without warning, he slammed on the brakes while turning the wheel, spinning the car around 180 degrees. Sam and I were tossed around like salt in a shaker.

"Dean!" Sam shouted. "The hell was that?"

Dean gritted his teeth, laying his left hand in his lap while driving with the right only. He said nothing until we parked again in front of Mrs. Naysmith's house. There, Dean reached over with his right arm to open his door, but Sam held him back.

"You're not getting out of here without telling me what all this is about. And it better be a good reason to aggravate your shoulder. Geez, Dean, don't you ever learn?"

Dean glared at his younger brother. "Fine, bitch."

Sam rolled his eyes at that. "Jerk," he muttered.

Dean took a deep breath before elaborating. "When asked about what happened to her little bro the old bird said it wasn't the ghosts. So she knows about a ghost or even ghosts. Meaning..."

"Meaning there's probably much more going on there than just Jeremy and Tyler," Sam nodded, relaxing back into his seat for a brief moment.

"Wait up," I blurted out before I could stop myself. "Do you mean to say there are more than two ghosts haunting the building?"

Sam shrugged. "Possibly. Just cause all we saw were two angry spirits doesn't mean there aren't any more."

"And that's what I need to ask the old bird, hence the turnaround," Dean mock smiled and, catching Sam off guard, he leaned over and opened his door this time. He was out of the car before Sam had had the chance to snap his fingers. Sam snapped his open mouth shut and dashed after his brother, which left me to scramble after the Winchesters.

By the time I caught up with them Dean was already raising the dead trying to knock down Mrs. Naysmith's door. A few moments later a visibly exasperated Jenna Naysmith opened up and glared at the older Winchester.

"And what seems to be the trouble now, you impetuous pain in the neck?" It was obvious that she was not amused. But Dean was on a mission. And he was hurting, by the way he was holding his arm. I might not have known him for that long but I knew that it wasn't a good mix.

"Listen, ma'am," Dean started again, trying to muster some sort of respect for the elderly woman. "I forgot to ask about the ghosts. You mentioned..." Dean trailed off as the old woman started a full throated laugh. The three of us exchanged some puzzled looks, when abruptly, the laughing stopped.

"Now you listen, young man," she jabbed Dean on the chest with her index finger. "Molly is a dear, harmless ghost. She wouldn't ever harm a fly, let alone my brother. When I told you his death had nothing to do with ghosts, then I meant it. Besides, Molly disappeared long before Jeremy fell down the stairs. I think she moved on eventually."

"What about the ghosts that made you abandon the house?" Dean pressed bluntly. Like a curtain drawn, Jenna's face darkened. If looks could kill I think not only Dean would have dropped dead.

"Don't you ever mention those bastards," she snarled. "May they rot in hell!" She turned to shut the door behind her but Dean wasn't ready to give up. He jammed his foot in the crack and didn't even flinch when she banged the heavy oak blade against it. Irritated, she met his gaze. "Kindly remove your foot, mister," she growled. Dean smiled and pulled his boot back slightly.

"Have you ever seen those bastard ghosts?" he asked, using her expression, before withdrawing his leg completely.

"Isn't it enough that I've seen what they did? Throwing vases, cutlery, china, hell even flowerpots at everything that moved, I saw them even pick up little Tootsie and fling her out the window."

"You saw them fling Tootsie through the window?" Dean arched an eyebrow.

"I saw an invisible force pick up our little Yorkie and throw the poor dog out of the window, yes. Don't you understand English, my boy?"

"But you never saw the ghosts take form? They were always invisible?" Sam piped in, earning himself a pitying smile from the old woman. Then she looked at me and spoke.

"My condolences to your mother, two of three boys with hearing impairment," she cooed. Then she glared at Sam. "What's it with you boys? Do I slur or what? No, they never took form. They were invisible. And they can stay that way, too, for all I care." With that she slammed the door shut.

"She doesn't know," Dean murmured and headed back to his Impala.

"Doesn't know what?" I wondered out loud.

"That her brother is the bastard ghost," Sam explained.

***sn***

Sam nudged me in the side and nodded in Dean's direction, a frown on his face. We were back at my place, talking about the news we had gathered. Sam had opened his laptop again and was trying to find out all about Tyler Edwards. Dean was resting on the couch, his left arm tucked tightly between the backrest of the couch and his torso. He had closed his eyes but a slight frown on his forehead betrayed the notion that he was resting peacefully.

"Find anything yet, Sammy?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"Getting there," Sam replied, scrutinizing his brother. "Do you have a glass of water for me, Luis?" he looked at me. "And some more of those pills?"

Now I frowned but caught on quickly as Sam winked at me. Somehow Dean seemed to catch on, too.

"Not taking any of those smarties, Sammy," he drawled. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I said for me, Dean." Sam had a petulant undertone to his voice. I got up to fetch the pills while Sam followed me into the kitchen to pour himself some water. When I handed him the pills he took them and regarded them pensively.

"Do you have anything that we could slip him unnoticed?" Sam asked softly.

"You wanna drug Dean against his will?" I all but stuttered. Somehow I didn't think Dean would appreciate that, not even from his brother. Yet here I saw Sam nodding at me. "Sam," I started, looking for the right words. "I don't know, man. You think that's a good idea?"

"No, I don't. You said it yourself, he's stubborn. But he's no good to us when he's hurting like that. And we both know he's hurting."

"He's gonna be pissed as hell at us," I objected.

Sam shook his head. "At me, not at you. I can deal with him."

"Those Ibus only come as pills, Sam. How do you wanna slip it past his radar?" I challenged.

"You got nothing fluid?"

"I have tramadol," I admitted. "But..."

"But?"

"It can cause seizures. With his head injury..."

"I get it," Sam cut in. He was thinking. "Dean has never had a seizure before. How often does that happen?"

"Not often," I snorted, which earned me a cautionary glare from Sam. "They wouldn't have it on the market if it happened often. Maybe a small dose."

"Put it in his drink, later."

"Sam," I pleaded. I really didn't want to be doing that.

"Whatever you're conspiring in there, don't do it!" Dean's voice floated across to us from the living room. "I wasn't born yesterday!"

Sam rolled his eyes and then shrugged at me. I felt some sort of relief, because Dean's words seemed to have changed Sam's mind. I should have known that a Winchester mind cannot be deterred.

When we got back to the living room, Dean was sitting at Sam's laptop checking all the info his younger brother had dug up on Tyler.

"So Tyler was last seen five days after Jeremy's untimely death, when he was questioned by the cops again," he summarized without bothering to look up. "Not exactly helping a lot. Guess we'll just have to check the place out again, Sammy."

"Dean... give it another day. You can't possibly think I haven't noticed that your shoulder is bothering you," Sam said imploringly. "One day more or less ain't gonna make a difference."

Dean inhaled audibly, then turned to lay his eyes on Sam. "I'm fine," he said icily.

Sam actually chuckled before replying. "You might be able to intimidate Luis," he said and I opened my mouth to protest. Sam's knowing yet friendly look however, prevented me from saying anything. Dean raised an eyebrow as he glanced at me and Sam plowed on. "But you can't intimidate me. I know you, Dean."

"Yeah? Well, I know you, too, bitch. So get your panties untwisted and let's go find us some ghost." Dean flashed a grin at his brother and Sam just shook his head.

"Jerk," he muttered. "Fine, have it your way. But don't expect any sympathy if the Caspers throw you around some more. I'll go grab my stuff."

"Hey, I'm a big boy. I can handle myself against two fugly ghosts," Dean called after Sam's retreating back.

"Sure you can," Sam's retreating voice replied. Then it was quiet. Dean looked at me, still standing across the room.

"You really scared of me?" he grimaced. I was sure he'd meant to grin.

"Not really, I'm no Casper," I retorted, trying desperately to keep up my reputation and my pride. "You realize, I hope, that Sam has a point." Trying to reason with a Winchester. Definitely an adventure.

"Don't you start, too, doc," Dean shook his head disapprovingly. "Told you the smarties make me sleep. I'll consider them after Casper One and Two have seen the light," he added.

"And if I got something that doesn't make you drowsy?" I had to at least try.

"No such thing, Luis. I tried them all. 'sides, that's what you said last night and they still made me sleepy."

"Don't wear yourself out, Luis," Sam drawled as he joined us again. "You got better luck talking a jackass into skydiving." He took a bite out of a sandwich he'd made himself.

"Where'd you get that?" Dean looked hungrily at Sam.

"Sorry, nothing left to make more. If you let me drive, I'll share."

"That's blackmail," Dean frowned.

"Tell someone who cares," Sam didn't look worried.

"Fine," Dean conceded. "But only till we're there."

"Deal," Sam grinned, taking another bite. Then he held out his hand and accepted the keys before handing Dean the rest of the sandwich. "Let's kick it."

I slowly followed Sam but watched almost mesmerized at the way Dean wolfed down his half of the sandwich. Outside, I climbed into the back seat while Dean rode shotgun and Sam let the Impala's engine purr to life.

"Dude, can you go any slower?" Dean whined when he noticed Sam was taking his time. "I can't pick the daisies, yet."

Something in Dean's voice was off and made me switch into doctor mode almost instantly. I looked at Sam's eyes staring at me in the rearview mirror. He didn't have to say anything. I knew that look on Sam's face.

"Sure, Dean. So you can beat the crap out of me when I scratch your baby. No thank you," he played along.

"You're no f'n," Dean all but slurred and leaned his head onto the non existing headrest by sliding a bit lower in his seat. After this it was eerily quiet for a few moments.

Something was definitely off with Dean, but since Sam didn't seem worried, it could only mean he was behind it. Then it dawned on me and I almost laughed out loud. Sam noticed my reaction and smirked before glancing at his brother.

"Dead to the world," he then announced satisfied.

"What did you do?" I wondered.

"I found your stash of tramadol," Sam explained. "Tramadol is cool. Knocks Dean clean out, as you can see."

"How much did you give him?" Concern colored my voice.

"Just as much as I could drip onto his half of the sandwich," Sam smirked. "He'll be fine."

"Gee, Sam... next time give me a warning."

"Sorry, Luis," Sam said while turning the car around. "But I had to make sure he'd fall for it."

"Why did he?"

"Fall for it?" I nodded. Sam sighed. "Well, all he knew was you have pills. He didn't know about the tramadol drops. Pills he would have found..."

I nodded again, understanding. "And now?"

"Now you have to help me get him inside again and hope he'll be out of it long enough so we can push off our ghost ganking at least till tomorrow."

"He'll be mad at you," I pointed out.

Sam shrugged. "I'll live." He paused. "But at least he won't be a danger to himself and us today." He pulled up in my driveway and parked the Chevy. Soon, Dean was resting on my guest bed. I chanced a look at the sleeping man. His features slack in slumber he didn't look like a man who had faced off against things other people didn't even know existed.

I made my way downstairs again and soon Sam's footsteps told me he was about to join me. It was midafternoon and I couldn't help but wonder about how Dean's reaction would be when he woke up. Sam took a seat next to me on the couch. Then he looked at me, smiling reassuringly.

"What do you say, Luis? Find us a football game to watch?"

AN: The story ran away with me a little. But ghost ganking in the next chapter for sure.