Disclaimer: The characters of "Supernatural" were created by Eric Kripke, and are owned by the WB network. No profit is being made.

SEQUEL TO: "Whisper"

NOTE TO READERS: Thanks for the reviews of "Whisper" that keep coming in. I hope you're just as pleased with this next installment. And, remember reviews are a great motivator for future stories. I'm still not sure how long this story series will be, we'll see where things go, and if you want more. Read and Review!

Series Episode tie-in: This story will cross over very briefly with an up and coming episode: "Nightmare," due to air on February 7th. And, some of its details and/or characters will be included and/or eluded too.

Side Note: This story and title were inspired by the song lyrics to "Going Under" by the music group Evanescence.

Going Under

By Dawn Nyberg

One Month Later

Dean sat thumbing through a magazine in the waiting room of a small countryside emergency room. His head snapping toward the swinging doors every time a medical professional would walk out. He looked at his watch, and both his worry and frustration were growing. He had drug Sam here against a lot of protesting, but his brother was looking so bad the last few weeks since the demon cleansing of the Ryder home that he forced his brother to get medical attention. "Sam Winchester's family?" A voice called into the waiting room. Dean stood up immediately.

"I'm his brother." The nurse smiled.

"Would you follow me, please? The doctor would like to speak to you." Dean's stomach clenched at her words.

"I want to see my brother," Dean insisted.

"Of course, the doctor is in with him now." She motioned for Dean to stay where he was. He stared at rows of curtained off cubicles. He watched the nurse peek in a curtain further down, and then an older doctor in his early fifties, he suspected walked out, and extended a hand to Dean.

"I'm Dr. Groban. I wanted to talk to you about Samuel."

"He prefers Sam," Dean said quietly. The doctor acknowledged with a nod and soft smile. "I want to see him?" Dean felt a desperate need to see his brother filling him up.

"Sure, I just wanted to fill you in."

"On what? What's wrong?"

"Well, from what our tests show he's suffering from acute exhaustion, he's dehydrated, and he's malnourished." Dean involuntarily flinched. He felt responsible.

"I tell him to eat," Dean mumbled.

"Oh, I'm not blaming you," the doctor offered. "Sam's a big boy, and he was still complaining to me that you drug him in here." Dean smiled.

"Yeah, he wasn't too happy."

"Well, I'm glad you did. I've started him on an IV to help with the dehydration, and I've asked food service to deliver a dinner from the cafeteria in a couple hours. The IV bag will take three hours to run, and then I'll see about letting him out of here. But, he needs to sleep, so I'm writing a prescription for a sedative." Dean shook his head.

"Good luck getting him to take them," Dean grumbled. "He doesn't sleep very well, and he'll hate the idea of pills."

"Well, I'll write the script and have it filled anyway, and maybe you can talk some sense into him. Why can't he sleep?" Dean hesitated, but decided Sammy's health was at stake, so he decided to tell the doctor.

"He has nightmare's and they keep him up. He doesn't sleep because he doesn't want to dream."

"Night terrors?" the doctor questioned.

"Not exactly," Dean countered. "He's taking a break from college," Dean began. "There was an accident… a fire … Sam got out, but his girlfriend died." The doctor shook his head sadly.

"I'll change his script," he spoke with sureness. "This sedative will let him sleep deeply, with no dreaming. But, he can't use them all the time, so I'll provide him with another script for a mild sedative to help him relax, and maybe fall off to sleep, okay?" Dean's eyes were hopeful.

"Thanks. I'd like to see him now."

"Go right in. I went ahead and gave him a mild sedative in his IV, so he may sleep for a little bit. I'll check back in a while, and also to release him later this evening." Dean nodded. He took a deep breath and pushed his way through the curtain to see Sam. Dean walked in quietly, and quickly noticed that Sam's was on his back, his head slightly turned. He could see he had drifted off to sleep, and he smiled at how young his brother looked in that moment. Dean pulled up a chair, and sat watching his brother sleep. After forty minutes had past he noticed Sam tense slightly in his sleep, and knew a dream was edging in on him. He reached through the raised side bar on the gurney, and rubbed Sam's arm. "It's okay, Sammy. Shh…" Dean could feel Sam's muscles tensing under his hand. He stood up, and pushed back his brother's bangs. "Sammy, I'm here. It's okay." And, he felt the tension release in his brother, and heard a quiet sigh come from Sam. Dean sat back down and continued to watch his little brother. Dean finally noticed a discarded magazine on the extra seat in the small cubicle and picked it up.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was tired and sounded groggy.

"I'm right here, Sammy," Dean said tossing the magazine away to be at his brother's side.

"I want out of here," Sam grumbled as he looked at the IV needle in the back of his hand.

"Yeah, I know, later tonight, okay?"

"I'm still pissed you know," Sam's eyes examined his brother's every facial feature with a hard expression.

"I know, but I'd haul your ass in here again, if I felt I had too. I'm not sorry." Sam turned his head away from Dean.

"I hate hospitals."

"I know," Dean conceded. "I don't much care for them either," he commented. "I especially don't like being on this side of the experience." Sam turned his head back to his brother.

"What? Why? You'd prefer to be the one laying here."

"Well," Dean paused. "Yeah, better me than you." Sam shook his head slightly and smiled. "What?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Look I've been where you are, too, " he offered. "It's no bed of roses." And, Dean understood that Sam was referring to the time he had been electrocuted and was given only two weeks to a month to live. Sam was pale and dark under his eyes, and Dean hated that this look had become the standard rather than the exception lately.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"What happened to you in that house when we exorcised it?"

"The demon grabbed me, and that's all I remember," Sam lied. He had no intention in telling his brother the truth of what happened and the things he was shown. A short while later a tray of food arrived for Sam that the doctor had ordered. He eyed the hospital food with a look akin to fear.

"It's not gonna bite you, Sammy," Dean offered with a slight laugh. "You need to eat."

"Oh really," Sam's replied sarcastically. "You go ahead and eat it then if it looks so good to you." Dean turned his nose up at the sight of the food. It looked like meat loaf, but he wasn't sure. The mash potato's looked like instant and appeared too watered down. He did recognize green beans though.

"It's your food. Try it. The doctor said you're malnourished." Sam rolled his eyes and attempted to eat some of the mystery meat. After twenty minutes of poking and prodding with his fork Dean relented and pulled the tray away from his little brother. "Okay, you don't have to eat anymore. We'll get something later on the way to the motel."

They sat and talked for a while, and Dean tried to get Sam to sleep a little more, but he wouldn't, so now they just waited for the IV bag to finish, and for the doctor to release the youngest Winchester. Dean was glancing at his watch as a sudden in take of breath from Sam caused him to jerk his head up. "What?" Dean studied his brother for a second. Sam's eyes were afraid. "Sammy?" Dean stood up alarmed. "Sammy, talk to me." Sam grabbed his right temple, "Oh, Christ, not again."

"Dean," came out as a strangled noise from Sam. "No, not again," was all Sam could get out before his mind was consumed in pain, images, and voices. He fought the voice in his head. You can't run from me Samuel. I'm in your blood now. You cannot resist. I have things to tell you, things to show you. I'm waiting. Sam knew the voice; it was the demons. He fought the pull of this evil, and his body reacted.

"Someone help me!" Dean screamed. He caught sight of Dr. Groban at the nurse's desk, and the panicked sound of the young man's voice, and eyes when they made contact made the doctor run. Sam was convulsing badly. It was worse than the time before, and it scared Dean. The doctor and emergency staff pulled back the curtain roughly, and Dean was pushed aside. The following experience became a jumble of words from the doctors and staff and brief glimpses of his brother.

"Get some monitors on this kid," the doctor screamed. "Dilantin bolus, now!" Dean could see them attaching a heart monitor to his brother's chest, and clipping something onto a finger, and from his time in the hospital he knew that was for oxygen levels. Sam was still seizing. It hadn't lasted that long before.

Sam was raging against the demon, and as hard as he fought he could still hear the voice, but still he resisted the complete giving over to this darkness. You are the Alpha, Samuel, and soon when the last is dead, you will be the Omega. The others have killed themselves, but still you endure, and only one still lives, soon though, he to will take his life, and you will be the last. Soon Samuel you will stand at my side." Sam fought hard and somewhere in the midst of this chaos, he understood more than he wished he did. There were others like him, and they had all taken their lives, but one remained. One still lived, and if he could save this other, he could save himself. He understood the demon, he was the Alpha, the first, and until he became the Omega, the last, he could hold the darkness away. But, where was this other. Maybe, he should let go now, and rob this demon of what it wants so desperately, his soul, and his untapped power.

"Keep bagging him," the doctor barked orders. "Damn he's in respiratory arrest!" Dean was pushed further out of range from his brother, and could no longer see Sammy. But, he could still hear everything that was being said. "We have to get this seizure stopped," the doctor's voice boomed. "Push some Ativan, now!"

"Doctor Groban, he's having a run of PVC's," a nurse shouted. "He's in V-tach."

"Push, a Bicarb bolus. Come on," the doctor ground out.

Sammy, please, please…Dean's mind repeated over and over again. His thoughts completely consumed with his little brother, and somewhere in the chaos Sam felt their connection as brothers, and he couldn't let go, he couldn't leave his big brother. And, just as suddenly as the seizure had begun it stopped. Sam lay limply on the gurney surrounded by medical personnel. Sam took in a struggling breath on his own, as an oxygen mask was put over his mouth and nose.

"He's breathing on his own," a young resident replied to Dr. Groban. "His SAT's are holding at 97." Dr. Groban looked into Sam's eyes with a penlight.

"I want a stat MRI on this kid." He barked, as he looked over Sam's vitals on the machine. His heart rate had come down, and was showing a normal sinus rhythm. "Get him ready to take to MRI, and call them and tell them we are bringing a stat patient to them, and to have the room cleared." Dean stood further down the hallway staring at the curtained area that held his brother. The last thing he had heard was when someone shouted, 'he's in V-tach.' He hadn't been able to hear anything else being said after that because he had been moved down the hall. He saw some staff start to leave, but a handful remained. He saw Dr. Groban come out and walk toward him; his face serious, and Dean wasn't sure how to read that and it scared him. All he could think was he was about to be told that he had lost his brother, that his Sammy was gone forever. And, he felt his legs start to weaken, and he leaned against the wall for support. "Dean," the doctor's voice began. Dr. Groban saw the color drain from Dean's olive complexion, and immediately extended a steadying hand to the young man who started to slide down the wall. "That's it just put your head down," the doctor encouraged. "Slow, steady breaths, okay." He crouched in front of Dean, and took his wrist in his fingers and timed his pulse. "Easy," he encouraged. Dean raised his head, and looked at the doctor. "Better?"

Dean nodded. "My brother… he's not…"

Dr. Groban realized instantly what the young man had thought the news was going to be. "No, no, Dean," he insisted. "We were able to stabilize him. I'm having him taken to the MRI lab for a scan. I need to see if something is happening in his head." The doctor helped Dean to stand back up from his crouched position against the wall. "Dean, has Sam ever had a seizure before?"

Dean hesitated for a second, but this was Sammy, and he had to tell the doctor. "Once," he paused. "A month ago. He had some kind of migraine hit him, and then he had a seizure. It wasn't as bad as this one. He wouldn't go to the hospital. I know I should have forced him, but…"

"It's okay, we all have had bad judgments, although I wish your brother had mentioned the previous seizure," the doctor tried to relieve Dean from taking the blame for his brother's health. "Sam's an adult. Does he have headaches frequently?"

"Lately, yeah, but the bad ones only a month ago, and only that once." Dean assured.

"That you know of," the doctor commented casually. And, it wasn't until that very moment that Dean considered that maybe Sammy had hidden other headaches from him, and it scared him. What was Sam protecting him from? Dammit, I'm the big brother here, I do the protecting, his mind shouted.

Three Hours Later

Dean sat next to Sam's bed as he slept. He had been admitted, and was in the ICU. The doctor had said that Sam would sleep for a while after the seizure, but he assured Dean that Sam had woken up briefly in the MRI lab, and seemed coherent before he drifted off again. Dr. Groban said when he had the result of the scan he would stop back by Sam's room. And, true to his word the doctor did come back about 45 minutes later. Dean looked up at him as he entered the room, and he stood. He followed the doctor outside the glass walls that made up Sam's room in the unit.

"How is he?"

"The scans don't show anything going on. No tumor, no aneurysm, and no malformations in the brain were found. And, the neurologist has defined his seizure, as untraceable."

"But, he could have died, right?" Dean's tone was sharper than he had intended, but this was his brother's life, and after all the tests, and the scan they didn't have any answers. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or pissed. At least if he were sick he could get him help, but if it were vision related he couldn't protect Sam from himself.

"Well, the seizure lasted long enough that he stopped breathing, and was experiencing cardiac arrhythmias that could have gone into cardiac arrest, but we were able to control those problems today. And, of course, brain damage is always a possibility after a sustained seizure."

"Brain damage," Dean blurted out. "You said he woke up for a little bit. You said he was coherent."

"Yes, he was. I don't think Sam will have any lasting side effects from the seizure. However, I am considering that he may need seizure medication."

"Look, my brother isn't going to start popping any pills for something this hospital can't really even diagnose as a problem. 'Untraceable,' what the hell, does that mean? What? We know he has something wrong we just don't know what it is or how to find it." The doctor understood the young man's frustration over his little brother.

"I know this isn't easy. And, I'm hesitant to start him on any meds, but if a seizure like this were to happen when you weren't near a medical facility…" his voice trailed off, and Dean understood the implications.

"He would have died," Dean's voice trembled in a questioning tone.

"Yes, Dean, had this very same seizure occurred in the middle of nowhere Sam would have died." The eldest Winchester child began to shake uncontrollably, and the doctor wrapped an arm around him, and walked him down the hall to an empty office. "Sit, keep your head low," he shook his head in frustration, he was trying to get Dean focused on his breathing that had turned into ragged, short breaths. He didn't want another patient on his hands. "Dean, you need to calm yourself, otherwise, you're going to hyperventilate, and you won't be any good to your brother." That final end to the sentence made it through Dean's haze of panic, 'you won't be any good to your brother,' and he took a shaky breath and centered himself. "Good," the doctor said as he smiled reassuringly at the older sibling.

"How long does he have to stay in here? As soon as he feels stronger he's going to raise hell," Dean commented with a slight smile thinking about his little brother.

"After the ER incident I wanted him monitored closely tonight that is why I have him in the ICU for the night. I'd like to run some more tests, but barring any set backs I can probably release him the day after tomorrow." Dean nodded.

They finished talking over other details, and then Dean found himself anxious to get back to Sammy's bedside. He sat down in the chair next to his younger brother, and feeling compelled to touch him he leaned forward and rested his hand on his brother's forearm. He closed his eyes, and before he knew it he had fallen asleep.

Sam felt the dreaded feeling of being pulled down again, and knew what was coming: visions, voices, and his newest nemesis he suspected was the darkness he had seen in his earlier dreams. He didn't fight, but didn't give in either. It was a delicate balance he would learn to control, or at least try too.

The room he was in was large he could tell by the way the voices carried, but it was dark, black as pitch. The only light sources were candles, large pillar ones that reminded him of church, but this was no holy place that he was sure of. "Welcome home, Samuel."

"This isn't my home," he spat. Images began to swirl around Sam as if they were wrapped around him on large movie screens. "Who are you?"

"We've had this conversation."

"Who?"

"I am the one for whom the Earth was opened for. I am chaos, doubt, fear, hate. My power is more than you can comprehend. I am the darkness." And, then Sam was reminded of Jess's warning, 'the darkness wants you.'

"Why me?"

"You were chosen, and that is all you need know. You will stand at my side. Your power will be coveted, and you will have absolute dominion over all I give you."

"What happened to free will?" Sam questioned. "I could eat a bullet the first chance I get."

"Go ahead, you know where suicides go," the demon smiled.

"I could have died tonight if I had decided to," Sam hedged his bets. "I die what are you gonna be left with? You all ready said the last would kill himself. I die what do you have?"

"If you cannot survive the trials of your visions, if you cannot embrace your powers they will kill you, and will only prove you were never meant to stand at my side. But, I have watched you your whole life Samuel, and you will be mine. And, I'm patient. Soon, my precious boy, soon."

"No!"

Sam's eyes snapped open, and he stared for a moment at an unfamiliar ceiling. It was different than the ER, and he had vague recollections of waking in another room with loud clicking. He remembered the word MRI, but everything else was foggy. He felt heaviness on his left arm, and glanced down and saw the back of his brother's head. Dean had fallen asleep on his arm. Sam reached across his chest and lightly put his free hand on his brother's head, "Dean?" His voice was a mere whisper, but Dean had heard loud and clear. His head rose up, and he twisted his neck to look at his little brother.

"Hey, Sammy," his tone was gentle, but Sam could see the fear in his brother's eyes giving way to what looked like relief.

"This isn't the ER," Sam commented quietly. Dean smiled as he shook his head.

"No, it's the ICU, Sammy."

"What?"

Dean recanted the entire saga of the previous hours to his brother, and when he was done Sam sat staring at his hands while he pulled at the edge of his sheet. "You okay?" Dean's voice was concerned.

"There's nothin' wrong with my head, Dean," Sam looked up. "I know what caused the seizure," he stated simply.

"Another vision," Dean inserted. "Yeah, well, you can't keep having them Sam. This one almost killed you."

"My fault," Sam spoke suddenly. "I know I can't fight against them as much as I do, so I have to let them come, and maybe the seizures won't come back."

"Maybe?" Dean's tone was incredulous. "I can't bank your life on 'maybe," Dean spat, but not unkindly. "The doctor said had we been in the middle of nowhere you would have died. Do you not get that?" Sam shot a frustrated glance at his brother.

"I get it Dean, but it's my life. And, anyway, what do you expect to happen now, we don't go on hunts anymore because my freaky head may or may not go pop again. It's stupid." Sam was angry.

"You know what," Dean hissed. "That's it, I've had it." Dean stood up abruptly. "I need some air." And, he turned and left Sam's room without another word. Sam watched his brother leave, and silently cursed himself because he had been cruel to Dean. And, he felt guilty at what his brother had been put through the last few hours since his seizure in the ER.

Meanwhile, in Sacramento, California

John Winchester had just checked into yet another hotel. He liked to keep moving while on the path of the demon that has plagued his family. He layered salt and cat's eyes shells at the door and windowsills. He pulled out his papers and began looking over things, trying to pinpoint the demon's location. He was close, and he knew it. His phone rang and he glanced at it from across the room on the nightstand, but he stayed in his seat to keep looking over his materials. The cell phone stopped ringing. He'd check his voice mail later he thought idly, but an urgent feeling over took him and he went to his phone to listen.

Hospital Lobby

Dean closed his cell phone frustrated that he had got his Dad's voice mail again, but that's all he ever got when he called, so why should this time be different. He sat down heavily onto a small couch in a corner obscured by a large plant. He was pissed at Sammy and his Dad. But, he was madder at himself because he had gone off on his little brother who was lying up on the second floor in an ICU bed after nearly dying. You won't be winning any best brother of the year awards any time soon, you schmuck, he thought to himself.

Sacramento, California

John picked up his phone and listened to his voice mail: Dad? I hope you get this. It's Sammy, Dad. He's in the hospital. John's heart began to hammer in his chest. What had happened to Sammy? Dean's voice was tense, but there was something else John recognized just under the surface, fear. Dad, there are things happening to Sammy. He almost died tonight. He had a seizure and he's in the ICU. Dad, please, I need to talk to you and not your damn voice mail. Please call me, please. The desperation was evident in his eldest son's voice, and although it was dangerous, he had to know about Sam. A seizure? What the hell was wrong with his baby boy? His thoughts were slamming around in his head. He pulled up his son's number and connected.

Hospital Lobby

Dean was momentarily startled as his phone rang. He didn't even bother to look at the caller ID; he figured it wasn't anyone important before he flipped it open. He never expected to hear the voice he heard when he said, "Hello?"

"Dean?"

"Dad?" Dean couldn't keep the surprise and relief out of his voice.

"Dean, what's wrong with Sammy?" There was a brief silence that seemed to last forever between John's question and his oldest son's response, and it scared the hell out of him. Then, the silence was broken as Dean began a torrent of words and explanations about what had happened to Sam. When he was done John heard his son take in a shaking breath, and then silence.

"Dean? Son, are you there?"

"Yeah," the response was quiet, and John could hear the bottled emotion hidden in his son's voice.

"I want you to take Sammy back to Lawrence…" Dean cut off John's words suddenly.

"What! Hell, no. Why?"

"Dean, I want you to take him to Missouri. If she can't help, she'll know someone who might be able to help Sammy with his visions and abilities."

"Dad, you don't even seem surprised that Sam has visions, and stuff. You haven't said a thing." And, then Dean understood in that moment.

"You were there weren't you? You knew about Sam all this time." His tone was accusing.

"Yes."

"Yes! Yes! That's it," Dean spat. "I begged you for help, Dad. Sam almost died in that house you know, and you didn't help."

"You had it under control Dean. And, once I knew it wasn't the demon that took your mother I decided not to interfere."

"Missouri?" Dean questioned. "She spoke to you and told you about Sam, right? Probably told you about mom's spirit, too?"

"Yes. Dean, you have to get Sammy help. You have to keep him safe." There was something in that final sentence that caused Dean to tense.

"What are you hiding, Dad? If it's about Sammy you have to tell me," Dean barked.

"He's in danger Dean. I can't tell you everything now. I know you've always looked out for your brother, but keep him close now more than ever. Don't let him shut you out. Protect him." John paused and then added, "even from himself."

"Dad? What do you mean from himself?" Dean was afraid.

"Dean, I have to go. It's not safe to talk on the phone. Don't tell Sam we spoke, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Remember go to Missouri. Keep safe, son." And, before Dean could say anything else he heard the line disconnect. Dean stared at he phone in his hands for a couple minutes his mind reeling from what his dad had just said. The words 'protect him … even from himself' were knocking around in his head jarring his skull. He squeezed the bridge of his nose. He always thought of Sammy's safety first, always had, and always would. It irritated him that his dad would even feel it necessary to remind him. He took in a deep breath and stood up. He glanced at his watch and hadn't realized he had stormed out of Sam's room over an hour ago. It was time to go back to his baby brother.

Dean got on the elevator and when the doors dinged and opened on the second floor he got off and walked back to the ICU. He came around the corner and two nurses at the nurse's station looked up and smiled warmly at him. He returned the gesture. He looked in through the glass, and saw that the curtain was pulled across, and he couldn't see Sammy. He cast a worried glance at one of the nurse's. "Is he okay?"

"Huh?" the nurse was surprised by the question. "Oh, the curtain, he's fine he just wanted some privacy, so I closed it for him a while ago."

"Oh," Dean felt the sudden burst of fear subside. He pushed quietly past the curtain slightly obscuring the door. He was quiet, and peeked in and could see that Sam's eyes were closed, and he was turned on his side huddled against a pillow propped on the raised bar on his bed. Dean reached down and pulled up some of the blankets that had fallen off his brother, and covered his sibling with them. He sat down in the chair he had left an hour ago, and just decided to stare into space while he sorted through the brief and cryptic conversation with his father.

A stirring sound came from the bed, and Dean looked at Sam. "Hey," he said softly as he saw Sam open his eyes and peer at him from over the pillow he was hugging. Sam cracked a small smile.

"You came back."

"What? You thought I was gonna leave and keep going?" Dean's voice feigning surprise and exasperation.

"Wouldn't have blamed you," Sam's voice was tired and defeated. Dean grinned.

"Nah, you're stuck with me kiddo."

"I think that's the other way around," Sam offered.

"Shut up," Dean said lightly. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," he answered honestly. Dean's eyes had a glint to them and he chuckled. "What?"

"That had to be the most honest answer I've gotten out of you in a long time."

"Ha-Ha," Sam answered sarcastically.

"Sleep Sammy," Dean encouraged. "I'll be here. We'll talk in the morning." Sam was tired and he decided he wouldn't fight his brother on this particular order.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry about earlier," he said as he nestled into the pillow. Dean smiled.

"Me too. Now shut the hell up, and go to sleep."

Dean had managed to get the chair he was in to recline and slept fitfully as his mind was barraged with memories of the ER, Sammy, and the phone call from their father. He would wake up on and off all night to either check on Sam as he slept, or at the noise of a nurse coming in to check Sam's vitals, and mess with his IV. Later on in the early morning the sound of the curtain moving woke Dean instantly.

"Sorry I startled you," Dr. Groban said with a hushed voice and a reassuring smile.

"No problem," Dean whispered as he noticed Sam was still sleeping. He looked at his watch 7:15 AM. "Wow, he's still asleep," Dean commented as he looked at Sam.

"I'm glad to see him getting some rest. The nurses told me he had a good night, and all of his vitals look good."

"But, you still don't know anything, right?" Dean wasn't rude, but his tone was to the point.

"I had his scans reevaluated and the same conclusion was found. And, they still can't find anything wrong with Sam's brain to have caused the seizure."

"You said last night that he could probably get out of here tomorrow, right?"

"I foresee no problems with that original assessment. He's doing well." Sam picked that time to stir as he woke up. He could hear whispered voices in the room, and they drew him from his sleep.

"Hey, Doc," Sam greeted.

"Hey, yourself. I'm happy to see you alert and talking. It's a vast improvement over yesterdays happenings."

"Yeah, sorry about that." The doctor smiled.

He chatted with Sam and Dean for a few more minutes. He completed an exam of Sam, and decided he could be moved from ICU later in the morning and put in a room in the neurology unit. The youngest Winchester was settled in his new room by noon, and shortly after his lunch tray arrived, and he shared some of it with his brother. "Dean, man, why don't you go out and get some food? Why eat this stuff?"

"I'm staying here."

"Man, I can't wait until I'm out of here tomorrow."

"Yeah, about that I wanted to talk to you."

"Why? Did the doctor change his mind?"

"No," Dean assured. "We're going back to Lawrence." His statement was sudden and to the point.

"What? Why? The poltergeist isn't back is it?"

"No, we're going to go see Missouri. I want to see if she can help you or knows someone who can." Sam could see the set jaw on his brother, and knew this was a done deal.

"Yeah, maybe she'll know someone."

Two hours later, Dean sat reading a car magazine and Sam had fallen asleep again. He was glad his kid brother was getting rest, but when he'd look at him in the bed he looked so fragile and young that it tore at him. He wanted Sammy healthy, and he wasn't. He would do whatever it takes to not loose Sam. Loose Sammy, not now, not ever, he thought.

Sam felt heaviness pulling on him again, and he let it happen. There were flashes of faces he didn't know. There was a murder, but voices were calling it a suicide, and he knew that wasn't right. He saw a young boy and a fleeting glance of something a gun. He saw Dean fall. He heard a name, but it was muted and he strained to hear, maybe it was Max. He felt something from this kid, and at first it seemed like a familiar hum deep inside, and then he knew the feeling. There was something about this kid. He had power inside him. He also felt torment, a pain that ran deep. He heard a voice, soft, but insistent, it whispered, I'm sorry I can't stop the pain for you. I cannot prepare you for what you'll have to endure. I love you, Sammy. He knew the voice he had heard it in Lawrence, it was his mother's, and then it was gone. His mind reeled back to the sound of a shot, and watching Dean's head snap back from the impact of a bullet, and he jerked awake with a gasp.

"Sammy?" Dean was instantly on his feet the magazine falling to the floor. "You okay?" He recognized the confused look on his brother's face, and the rapid searching of the room until his eyes met his brother's concerned ones. "Sam?"

"I'm okay," his voice shook. "Dean…" his voice caught in his throat and he dropped his gaze to his trembling hands. Dean gripped his brother's shoulder.

"It's going to be okay," he assured. "Another nightmare?"

Sam eyes rose to meet his brother's, and he shook his head slightly indicating it wasn't a nightmare, and Dean's gaze hardened. "A vision?"

Sam nodded and let out a shaky breath.

"Like the one about our old house?" Dean edged up onto his brother's bed, and sat down.

"Yeah."

Sam spent the next few minutes recanting his dream to his big brother, but leaving out the part where he saw Dean die. He felt bile rise in his throat when he thought about it. He would stop that, he'd make sure of it. Dean went to the Impala and brought back the laptop, and began to search some facts to try and see if the details Sam gave him would turn up anything. "Dean?" His little brother's voice drew his attention from the computer just as a news piece popped up.

"Huh?"

"Missouri's gonna have to wait Dean. We have to find these people or someone else is going to die." Dean wanted to fight his kid brother on this, but he knew Sam wouldn't let this go. "Dean we have to make sure. Check it out." Sam could see the news piece on the screen. Dean's eyes were serious as they looked into his brothers.

"I know we do."

The following day Sam was released from the hospital, and Dean carried a small white back filled with various prescriptions for his brother. Migraine medication, sleeping pills, seizure medication that he knew Sam would never take. And, he also took note of a bottle of pain pills for the headaches when they were too bad. He shook his head at all of this stuff, but if any of it would help Sammy he'd make sure the kid took it even if he had to crush them and hide them in his food or drinks. He slid into the driver's seat and looked at his brother, "you sure about this?"

"We have to go Dean." Dean nodded. Sam felt pulled to this kid in his dream, and suddenly he wondered if this boy was the Omega. And, with a shudder at the recollection of what the demon had said to him, he realized this young boy could be the key to his salvation or damnation, but which?

Well, what did you think of this installment in the story series? Still interested? Let me know what you think. A review is a great motivator. Thanks in advance!