OPENING THE DOOR to their motel room, Dean nearly threw the impala's keys. He was so angry! Every time he felt close to getting Benjamin, he discovered that Benjamin was always one step ahead of him, and now, both the Silvers' were missing.

He threw the duffle bag onto the couch, and rested his hands on the back of the chair at the round table in front of the window, leaning on it. He lowered his head as he let out a huff. "This is pointless!" He threw a hand towards the door. "We should be out there searching for Benjamin along with Cass."

"We're not angels, Dean," Sam reasoned. "Cass doesn't need rest, but we do. We just spent the past several hours searching for the Silvers'. We can't find them, Dean. We need to get cleaned up and rethink our next move."

Letting his anger rise, he turned and smacked the wall to his left. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing. "What do you think will happen to Cass if he finds Benjamin and we're not there?"

Sam sighed as he lowered his head. "I understand, Dean, but it's already four in the morning... again. If we haven't found them yet, then I'm starting to think they're long gone."

"They have angels on their side," Jack stated. Dean turned his attention towards Jack who leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. "They could be half-way around the world by now."

Dean shook his head. "I don't think so. Not without you, if I had to guess." He pointed towards Jack. "I can't shake the feeling knowing that they're here. Somewhere. We just keep missing them."

Sam leaned up against the wall and rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger. "We won't be strong enough to fight if we're exhausted."

Sighing, Dean pulled out the chair and plopped down. He knew Sam was right, but he couldn't shake the fact that he should be out there with Castiel. He rubbed the back of his head with both hands. "Alright. You hit the shower first and get some sleep." He glanced up at his little brother. "You need it."

As Sam pushed against the wall into an upright position, Jack suddenly collapsed to his knees, his arms wrapped around his stomach.

"Jack?" Dean jumped to his feet and ran to him, Sam reaching him at the same time.

"Jack, what's wrong?" Sam asked.

Dean stared at the young Nephilim as he tightly pressed his arms up against his stomach and clenched his eyes shut. "It... hurts," Jack said through gritted teeth.

"Come on, Jack. Talk to us," Dean urged.

Jack shook his head. "Something's... happening to me." He paused as he began panting. "I think... I think Benjamin's... trying to control me... again."

Dean narrowed his brow. "Can't you do anything about it? Can't you resist him?" He placed a hand on Jack's shoulder, but swiftly drew it back as it stung his hand.

"I'm sorry," Jack said, turning his slitted eyes up at him. "I can't... control my powers." Unexpectedly, he began to shake. "Do you... still have... the archangel blade?"

Dean was taken back by Jack's question. "Yeah, it's in the bag." What was Jack's intentions with the blade?

Letting out a soft yelp of pain, Jack clenched his eyes shut once more; his skin began glowing. "Get it. Please! You have... to kill me! It's... the only way... to make sure I don't... that I don't... kill anyone else."

Dean's heart dropped and he was speechless. Did Jack really just ask him that?

"I know... how much you've... always wanted to... kill me," Jack continued. "Please, do it."

"No, Jack!" Sam responded before Dean had a chance. "We are not going to kill you."

"Sam, it..." Dean paused, regretting what he was about to say. "It might be the only way."

"What?" Sam shouted. "No, we're not killing him!"

"If we don't kill him then someone else is going to die!" Dean shot back. As much as it pained him to think of being the one to kill Jack, did he really have a choice? He knew Sam was too weak and attached to.

Standing to his feet, he made his way over towards the duffle bag he had thrown onto the sofa when he walked in. He had to keep Jack from hurting an innocent kid.

"Dean, no!"

He was tackled to the ground from behind, slamming his jaw into the carpet. "Sam, get off! We have to do this!"

"I won't let you kill Jack!" Sam shouted. "We'll find another way!"

"It's too late."

Dean twisted his head around to see Jack standing straight, his hands clenched into fists. His eyes glowed gold and his skin shone white. A burst of light erupted throughout the room revealing Jack's wings in a shadow as they stretched outward. Within a split second, Jack vanished.

Dean's heart raced rapidly against his chest. "No!" Flipping himself over, he punched Sam in the jaw sending him falling off him. Dean jumped to his feet and stepped over to the spot where Jack had stood just seconds ago. "How could you do this, Sam?" he shouted. "Now, another kid is going to die, and it's your fault!"

He flung himself around to point an accusing finger towards his brother, but stopped as he watched Sam collapse. Sam caught himself with the table and began coughing uncontrollably. Reaching a hand to his mouth, he spat blood into his palm. He cringed as his knees began to buckle underneath him.

"Sam?" Dean ran to his brothers aid, catching Sam in his arms before he could hit the ground. "Sammy?"

Sam stared into Dean's eyes, blood coating his teeth. He reached up and grasped Dean's jacket. "Dean, I—" He was interrupted by another string of coughs. "I remember!"

Dean didn't know what to do. Sam wasn't making since. "What, Sam? You remember what?"

"Benjamin," Sam continued. "He was the one who kidnapped me."

"We figured that when we found you outside the stadium," Dean explained. This was nothing new to him.

Sam shook his head as he coughed once more, blood trickling down the side of his mouth. "He poisoned me." Dean's heart stopped. "He told me I had twenty-four hours to bring him Jack or I was a dead man."

"And you're just remembering this now?" Dean asked, confusion etching his face.

Sam's eyes slowly started to close. "It was... all apart of his plan." Once again, he coughed. "He said when... I had two hours left,... I would get sick."

Dean shook Sam as his eyes began to close. "What am I supposed to do? Sam! Tell me what I'm supposed to do!"

Sam's eyes briefly opened. "Bring Jack... to the arena... for the antidote." He softly shook his head. "But don't... do it,... Dean. Let me go."

Dean stared down at his brother. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say," he said.

Sam chuckled softly as he began to cough, more blood rising. All of a sudden, Sam stopped and his body hung limp in Dean's grasp.

Dean's heart quickened as he feared the worst. "Sammy?" he shouted. What was he going to do? Save his brother, or spare the Nephilim?