A/N: Well, I'm finally settled into my new house, got my internet back. Been in for a month actually, but finally found the time to get settled. And for some reason, (hmm…I wonder, knowing me, how would you guess?) music inspired this. Some lyrics about hearing voices in your head. I also have one of annoying comical tee shirts that reads "You should listen to me instead of the voices in your head." So this fits. Somewhere. Enjoy.

As usual: Don't own 'em. Wish I did. But I don't. So there.

Bit of useless knowledge: When you play Scrabble with family, don't play by the rules, the games are so much more fun. We make up stories around our words and we're all usually half drunk or seriously over tired. Our last game came off as 'The EXCELLENT MOUSE and the HORNY BEE met up with the FROGMAN and the GOATS, traveled to CHICAGO, and took on ALIASES where they cut off a VET'S ARM, laying it ON an ANVIL in the SUN to DRY. They went to a PUB where they met the EELS, stole their car KEYS and left for the ZOO, leaving the TINTED windows up because they were covered with DEW. Now that was using their BRAINS! The COP caught them popping ZITS and SAID they had to pay the PIPER.' My family is freakin' twisted!

Voices

"Do it."

Sam's eyes scrunched shut and he turned his head away from the window when the sunlight morphed into a blinding halo of violently swirling color.

"Do it… you know you want to. You can feel it building in your blood." Sam jumped as the voice startled him, pinched the bridge of his nose when pain slammed into him.

"Do it…do it…do it…Feel his heart pumping between your fingers…listen to it…hear it struggle and stop."

"NO!" Both hands shot to his head and he stood from the bed, lurching against the wall as he tried to make his way towards his brother.

"Sam?" Dean stood from where he sat behind the laptop at the scarred motel table.

"Sammy?"

"Stop it!"

"What? Sam, what the hell's goin' on?" Dean gripped Sam's arms and shook him slightly. Concern made Dean's normally grass green eyes a violent emerald.

"I c-cant!"

"Can't what?"

"I keep h-hearing…"

"What? What, Sammy?"

"Do it… you know you want to. Bathe in his blood…" "Gah!" Sam staggered, hands fisting the hair at the sides of his head as he covered his ears, trying to stop the voice in his head.

"GOD!"

"SAM!" Dean eased Sam the rest of the way to the threadbare but clean carpet as his knees folded.

"No, nononononono!" Sam's head shook back and forth, fingers pulling tufts of hair from his head.

"Hey, hey, Sammy, easy."

"St-stop it, pplleeeaaassseee!" He begged, tears standing on his tightly closed lashes. Dean ducked his head as he lifted Sam's chin, trying to catch Sam's eyes when they opened, moist, wildly darting around the room.

"Sammy, tell me what's goin' on!"

"C-can't. Keep hearing….ahh…my head…D'n." Sam's eyes rolled back and he slumped against his brother. Dean caught Sam's head against the side of his neck, feeling sweat slicked skin against his own. Worry streaked through him.

"Sam!"

"Nnhh…" Sam's head turned into Dean's shoulder, forehead wrinkling in pain.

"Okay, just take it easy. Gonna figure out what the hell's goin' on. You're gonna be okay." Dean looped Sam's arm over his shoulders and hefted them both to their feet.

"Ngh…" Sam groaned and it turned into an audible, pained gasp as Dean felt Sam jump in his arms.

"Give in to the desire. Kill, kill, kill. Taste his blood. Taste the desire for it…savor it…it burns through you."

"Nnooo…ple-eeaase." Sam slumped again, Dean lowering him to the bed, voice trailing off as he lost consciousness.

"Sammy? SAMMY!" Dean tried to shake Sam awake, getting nothing from his brother. He ran across the room to where his cell phone lay on the table next to the laptop, speed dialing help. The phone rang repeatedly, before going to voicemail. Dean dialed again, again getting the recorded message. "C'mon, c'mon! Where the hell are you?" Dean cried to the room as the phone went to voicemail and he hung up, dialing again immediately. It was answered on the third ring.

"Bobby! Thank God. Bobby, somethin's wrong with Sammy!" Dean cried, staring at his brother. He listened to his old friend's question.

"I dunno…it's like he was hearin' something in his head. He freaked…it was like he was in pain. No, no, he passed out. He's been unconscious for like fifteen minutes now." Bobby spoke, and Dean scrubbed a hand over his mouth briefly, watching Sam's head toss on the pillow.

"I don't…"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm lookin'." Dean turned his speaker on and put the phone on the bed, lifted Sam's shirts and looked at the tan skin of Sam's chest, seeing only familiar scars and a couple that he didn't know the story behind. "There's nothin' on him. No marks, no scratches, nothin'."

"No lesions?"

"No, nothin'." Dean picked his phone back up and hit the speaker button again, putting it back to his ear. "He's gettin' really restless."

"Kill him… Take his life. Hold his heart in your hands. He deserves to die. You want to kill. Kill. You see the images in your head. Give into them. You will rule. Stand on the mountain top with blood running in rivers at your feet." Sam's head rolled on the pillow and his back arched, a pained moan breaking free of his lips . Bobby caught the sound over the open phone line and told Dean to move faster.

"Yeah, okay. Okay! Hang on, I'm lookin'." Dean moved around the room, checking for the smallest thing out of place. Good thing we live a bare bones existence, he thought. His eyes landed on Sam's canvas duffel.

"His pack's on the table, let me check it." He opened the zipper and rummaged through the contents, pulling everything out. Frayed fabric caught his attention.

"Sonuvabitch!" He picked up the shirt in his clenched fist. "She got in my car! His flannel shirt, the one he wore this morning, it's got a chunk taken out of it." He listened to his Bobby curse loud and long.

"How much you wanna bet the bitch took it and she's pulling some kinda mojo on Sammy?" Dean looked at his brother, anger dancing in his green depths. "I'm gonna enjoy killin' her!"

"No ya won't! Yer gonna stay there and take care o' yer brother. I'll handle the witch. I won't have her git her claws into you too. Sam needs ya."

"Yeah, okay. I'll take care of him." Dean acquiesced, knowing he needed to stay with Sam, knowing Sam needed him. Bobby spoke again.

"Yes, Sir. I will." Dean paused for a beat. "Bobby, be careful."

"Kill, kill, killkillkillkillllll…"

"Nnnnhhhooooo…" Sam moaned, head tossing as if he was fervently denying something. Dean put his hand on Sam's sweaty forehead, trying to calm him and grimacing when his palm slid over Sam's slick flesh. "Wonnn't doooitt… Sam moaned out, "won't hhurt'im…"

"Easy Sammy. Just hang in there and keep fightin' her. Don't worry. Bobby's gonna end'er and you'll be fine. Promise."

"If you won't give in to me and destroy him…then kill yourself. Either way, I will revel in power and blood! Do it! Scratch your own eyes out!"

Sam's eyes snapped open and he lurched from the bed all in one move that had Dean stumbling back with a grunt as he took a hard shove to the chest from his younger brother. Dean fell against the other bed, knees folding with the impact and causing him to slam to the mattress, making the bed squeak. Sam staggered across the room, until his back smacked the wall. He slid down the faded paint, burying his face in shaking hands and began digging into his skin with hooked fingers.

"SAM!" Dean cried, jumping up from the bed and racing to his sibling's side, crouching and pulling Sam's hands away from his eyes, forcibly pinning them between them. "Stop it! Fight the bitch!" Blood seeped from eight raw scratches that crossed Sam's forehead and nose, running over his top lip. Dean searched Sam's face, seeing the distress there in lines of pain around his mouth and eyes. He shook his head, trembling and tugging, trying to get his hands free of Dean's grip. Dean held tighter.

"Talk to me, Sammy! What's goin' on?"

"Kill…myssellffff…" Sam muttered, again trying to get his hands free. "She wants meee toooo…." He moaned, eyes scrunching tight.

"Fuck no! Don't you even think of listenin' to the bitch, Sammy!" Dean pulled Sam into a rough embrace, making sure to keep his hands pinned between them.

"Guh-hhuu-uuhh." Sam struggled to breathe, his head shaking back and forth as Dean watched the witch start in on him again, trying to make him crack. Dean held both of Sam's hands tight and put another hand behind his head, fisting gently in his hair, pulling his head into the embrace.

"It's okay Sammy. You just listen to me and not whatever she's sayin'. Okay?"

"Y-yeah." Sam choked out, turning his forehead into Dean's neck. Dean continued to croon to his brother, soothing, forcing him to listen to something besides the witch's insidious whispers. It seemed to help for a bit until Sam stiffened and gasped, his head arching off Dean's shoulder.

"Sam!"

"GAAHHH!" Sam screamed, face contorting in agony. Dean gripped Sam's tense shoulders, silently pleading for whatever his brother was going through to end. Sam pulled in a ragged breath and slumped against him, relaxing completely.

"Nnughh…"

"Okay, okay…easy, easy Sammy, it's over now. It's over."

"Huuh-D'n…" Dean gently squeezed Sam again and then shifted, hefting them both to unsteady feet. He turned with Sam and lowered him to the bed. Dean went into the small bathroom and wet down a washcloth and added soap, returning to brush the moist material gently over the drying scratches. He stopped when satisfied they were clean and Sam immediately turned onto his side, curling into himself. Dean lowered himself to the mattress beside Sam and gripped his shoulder. Sam's eyes blinked heavily and closed as his breathing slowed.

"It's alright. Just sleep. It's over." Dean sat with Sam for a few more minutes, then rose from the bed when he caught the first musical tones of his cell phone ringing. He went to the opposite side of the room and quietly answered the phone.

"Hey, Bobby." Dean listened briefly to Bobby's rapid fire questions, answering then the riled up old man took a breath.

"It's over. He's okay." Bobby spoke again, Dean casting a glance at his brother.

"Yeah, he's sleepin'."

"Yeah, good. Okay. See you soon."

"I will."

A/N: Well, that's it for this one. Made to leave you thinking whatever you want to think. Just a moment in time when Sam needed his brother to keep it together. Pointless, maybe. Plot-less, definitely, but it was what I needed to do. If you enjoyed reading, leave me a review! If I ever get to finish another story, I'll be back.