Decapitation of... who?

Dean’s POV

“So what do you think?” I asked Sam, as we drove along.  I was driving, much to my disgust. I was still cross about having to drive this mini, instead of my baby. Sam didn’t answer straight away. He was staring at the road straight in front of us. 

“Why are we going this way Dean?” Sam asked after a moment. He frowned. With a gasp of pain my brother clutched his hands to his head, they way I’d seen him do back at the police station. And last year, when he started hallucinating Lucifer.

“Sam? Sammy are you ok?” I asked, slightly worried. “Sam? What’s wrong?”

Sam’s eyes squeezed shut. “Dean,” he said through his teeth, sounding almost angry. “Why are we going this way?”

I frowned. What was he talking about. Then I looked out the window. The house I saw made me cringe. It was white, with at least two stories and the far front window had ashy burn marks around it. The house itself was awfully familiar. My face fell. I sped past it, the engine whining in protest. 

 We were silent for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. I tried to concentrate on the too familiar road.  We drove back to the hotel in silence.

“Sammy?” I said, parking the car. Sam looked towards me, still looking slightly pained. 

“I swore I’d never come back here.” I muttered. “And I don’t like breaking my promises.”

“I know Dean, I did too.”

I let a small sad smile spread across my face. “And why did we come here anyway?” I asked skeptically.

“Because I thought we’d get a lot more research.” Sam said. “And so far we haven’t got anything new.”

“Let’s go.” I said after a pause. “And remember. We’re camping out tomorrow.”