Main story takes place Season 2 (2007) sometime after 'Born Under a Bad Sign' with flashbacks to 1987.

Champion, Illinois

Sam stirred as he heard an irregular tapping noise coming from the corner of the motel room. Even as he heard it he was still half asleep and way too exhausted to deal with anything that wasn't a serious threat. It could be Casper for all he cared. As long as the ghost wasn't on a homicidal kick it could wait until morning.

He lay beneath the warmth of covers for a few moments longer futilely hoping that the disturbance would stop on its own. No such luck. Grudgingly he turned in the bed to see what was making the annoying sound.

Big shocker. It was his brother. Dean sat at the corner table illuminated by the glow of Sam's laptop. He must have left it on because there was no way that Dean had actually figured out how to turn it on himself. Sam rubbed the sleep from his eyes before looking towards the bed stand clock.

With a groan he pulled the extra pillow over his head, but it wasn't as if he could actually just go back to sleep. He supposed he had to figure out why his brother, who had claimed there was no way he could drive through the night, was staring intently at a computer screen at three in the morning.

"Dean, what are you doing?" he finally asked.

"Watching porn."

Sam sighed as he threw off his blankets and pushed himself out of bed. Dean's quick answer that was apparent brutal honesty had to be a lie. Staggering over to Dean's side, he got a confused look from his brother.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Dean asked. "Viewing porn together is way too much brotherly love – even for you."

After glaring at Dean, Sam glanced down over his brother's shoulder to the computer screen. "'The Bay Tribune'?" Sam read off the website header.

"'Bay'?" Dean replied with poorly feigned surprise. "Man, I swear, I thought it said 'The Babe Tribune'."

"Dean, do I want to know why you're reading an Oregon coast newspaper in the middle of the night when we're heading to Philadelphia in the morning?"

Dean shrugged. "Probably not."

"We are still going to Philadelphia in the morning?"

"Yeah...uh, about that...something kinda came up."

It wasn't like Sam was actually surprised. This thing in Philadelphia involved some seriously messed up Cessna crashes. He had uselessly been hoping that Dean had miraculously worked out the whole flying issue when they'd worked the case for Jerry, but obviously not. Really it had only been a question of what excuse Dean would come up with.

"Well that's convenient."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Dean shot back.

"You don't think I know what this is?" As much as he tried, Dean couldn't pull anything over on him. "What could have come up in the middle of this hotel room while you were sleeping aside from a nightmare about airplanes?"

"What?" Dean flashed him an incredulous look before returning his eyes to the computer screen. "I don't have any problems with airplanes...as long as they stay on the ground," he added under his breath. "Besides, this doesn't have a damn thing to do with planes."

"Is this about the Demon?"

"No. Something else."

"Then what?" He was way too tired to play twenty questions with his evasive brother. "A nude colony of cheerleaders in peril, zombie strippers or did you just read a review that the local diner has the world's best pie?"

"Give me some credit will you? You've got your freaky vision thingies and I got my gut."

"And your gut is telling you that after we drove half way across the country to get here we should just drop this case and go to Oregon?"

"Basically...yep."

"Before we dump a case that Ellen asked us to look into and drive all the way back across the continent you're going to have to give me something to work with."

"Six people are dead. Two fathers. Four sons. Six different families."

Seeing that Dean was serious about this, Sam reluctantly pulled up a chair to hear what his brother had to say. "Okay...how did they die?"

Dean made a face before answering – one that alerted Sam that he wasn't going to like what Dean had to say next. "Stroke, kidney failure, heart failure, blood clot and uh...cerebral edema," he concluded with a glance towards the computer screen.

Sam stared at his brother with his mouth partially open as he searched for the words. "You do realize that none of those are supernatural or even related?" Sam finally asked.

Dean shrugged an acknowledgment.

"Alright. Who are the victims?" Sam asked in a last ditch effort to figure out where Dean was coming from with this.

He got the same wishy-washy look Dean had given when he asked about the cause of death. "There's a 45 year old computer repair guy, 36 year old hazelnut farmer, 19 year old college student and the three kids."

"Who have never met?"

"Yeah...as far as I can tell."

"Is this a joke?" Sam replied in disbelief. "That's not a case. These are completely unrelated medical deaths. No matter how much you hate flying we're not doctors, Dean."

"You're freakin' hilarious. We can skip the online degrees for this one. I think it's all tied in with the local sanitarium that's due for demolition."

"You 'think' or you have something resembling actual evidence?"

"Seriously, Sam. I'm not just pulling this out of my ass."

"Really? Because it sure as hell sounds like you are. How can we just drop everything for whatever you think this is?"

"How about because I just need you to trust me on this."

Dean was smart to leave off the unsaid 'and because I'm not asking' that Sam knew his brother had bit back. Despite what Dean liked to think, Sam did have a say in the jobs they chose. Dean couldn't say they were a team and then act like it was a one man show.

"And because I've followed you on a hell of a lot less," Dean added when he didn't get a verbal reply.

"I know," Sam acknowledged. "But we're both exhausted, Dean. Let's just go to bed and talk about it in the morning."

"I'm not going to change my mind in the morning."

"Maybe I will."

He just wanted his brother to get some rest and think this over. Even though it was off the wall insane, even for Dean, if it was that important to his brother, he'd go with it. In the morning.

Right now he just wanted to talk Dean out of it and tell him just what a crazy chicken shit he was. Aside from knowing how frustratingly useless that would be, the thing was, Sam didn't really believe it. As much as he couldn't see any reason for Dean to be pushing this, aside from grasping at anything that would get him as far from Philadelphia as possible, there was no way this was about cutting out on a case.

Dean got scared, a lot, even though his brother would never admit it. But Dean never ran and he was loyal to Dad's old friends to a fault. If Dean was running to Oregon, he was running towards something, not away from it. There had to be a reason Dean had latched on to this but Sam wasn't as psychic as Dean thought he was. He could only hope that his brother would feel like talking in the morning.

"Okay?" Sam prompted again when Dean remained staring at the screen.

Dean made a show of closing the laptop before he leaned back in the chair. Sam watched his brother for a moment longer. He only had the dim city light slipping in from the outside to go by, but it was enough to see that Dean was completely lost in thought. Whatever this was, it wasn't just some stupid excuse for avoiding planes.

If he didn't already know that it would be pointless, he would have tried to talk to get something more out of Dean. Instead of driving them both insane Sam returned to his bed before glancing back at his brother once more.

"Just try to get some sleep."

The Bay Motor Lodge - Green Bay, Oregon – 1987

"Just try to get some sleep, Sammy."

"Where's Daddy?"

Dean sighed as he hopped up to sit beside Sammy on the bed. It was like the fiftieth time his brother had asked him where Dad was. He was trying to be patient, but he didn't know why his little brother expected him to know everything.

It had been almost four years of moving around since the fire had taken Mommy away and Dean was tired. He was tired of the nightmares and of not knowing what to do. He was tired of his family disappearing. Dad and Sammy needed him to take care of them. He was trying, but it wasn't good enough.

As annoying as Sammy could be, without having his little brother to look after he didn't know what he would do. Dad was gone again, way longer than he'd said he would be, and he was afraid that soon he was going to be all alone.

"Already told you. Dad's out working."

"Where?"

"I don't know, but he's going to be back soon. Just trust me, okay?"

"Okay," Sammy said as he snuggled down into his sheets. Dean thought he finally had his little brother in bed when Sammy popped up again. "I'm hungry."

With another sigh, Dean looked down at his hands on his lap. He didn't know what to tell Sammy. There was no more food. Dean hadn't eaten since yesterday and he'd had to ration out what was left of the crackers to Sammy for breakfast and lunch.

Dad was only supposed to have been gone for the night and that was days ago. Dean had found what cash Dad had left in the room but he'd had to give it to the guy that had come to the door and told them they'd have to leave if they didn't pay for another night.

There was no more money so they'd have to leave the room tomorrow morning, but Dad had the car so they couldn't sleep in there. Dean wasn't sure where he was going to take Sammy. He knew he should call Pastor Jim to come and get them but he wasn't going to.

There was only one reason to call Pastor Jim and that was if Dad was gone. Dad wasn't gone. Not like Mommy. He was going to come back and they had to be here when he did so that Dad could find them.

Sammy's tiny hand on his shoulder pulled Dean back from his worries. "Dean hungry too?" Sammy asked when Dean didn't say anything.

"Nah. I'm fine. Don't you worry, Sammy. I'll find you something really yummy to eat tomorrow. How about some milk for now?"

Sammy nodded eagerly.

"Okay," Dean replied, "But only if you promise to go to sleep after you drink it."

"I will. After a story."

"A story?" Dean looked at his little brother like he'd sprouted a second head.

Before Mommy was killed Dad had told him bedtime stories, but that was all over before Sammy could talk. Dean had never told Sammy a story in his life. He didn't have any good ones to tell and those fairytales Dad had told him before the fire were a bunch of crap. There were no happy endings.

The only stories he knew where true ones. Stories about the things in the dark that kept him up at night with a gun under his pillow. If he didn't keep watch while Dad was gone something could come after Sammy like it had Mommy. He never wanted Sammy to know that. He never wanted Sammy to know anything he knew. He sure wasn't going to tell him stories about it.

"I don't have any stories."

"No silly Dean," Sammy giggled. "I wanna tell you a story."