Summary: A tragedy brings the Winchester brothers to Nebraska where they must determine what killed a friend and confront a different type of demon from their past. Minor character death, slight spoilers thru season 3.

Disclaimer: Not mine, but if they were……

This is almost complete, but I've come to a sad conclusion about myself. I'm lazy. Yes, it's true. I procrastinate and avoid unless I have a really good reason not to. I keep meaning to get back to this and write the last couple chapter – they are all outlined, the dialogue is done, I just need to flesh out the scenes themselves, but I don't. But, I have deduced, if I start posting, the guilt of knowing people are reading and are expecting timely updates and a reasonable conclusion does get me to sit in front of the computer screen and make my fingers do their little tippy tap thing, so….. Yes, I'm using you to force myself to finish this. I appreciate your help. g

Without further ado…

Collateral Damage

Sam Winchester leaned back into the cool leather of the Impala's seat and closed his eyes, a soft smile on his face as the setting sun warmed his skin and the cool autumn breeze tossed his dark hair. Quiet moments like this had been hard to come by lately – what with the hordes of demons now roaming the countryside, not to mention his constant search for a way to save his older brother, Dean, from the deal he had made with the crossroads demon to save Sam's life.

His world was constant turmoil… constant action. Always moving, always searching, their lives were constant motion. There was rarely time to just stop and simply breathe. The only opportunity he really had to think anymore was the time spent in the Impala, driving from one job to the next. Sam had never really relished their nomadic lifestyle while growing up, but now he was beginning to understand his brother's need to be behind the wheel of his beloved Chevy, nothing but the open road in front of them.

It was a way to forget. Forget about the hell their lives had become. Forget about the evil they constantly battled. Forget about the pain and danger that lay ahead. Forget about the looming deadline tagged to his brother's soul….

The last one was not something Sam was ever able to put into the back of his mind for long. As the time sped past like the broken yellow lines on the endless highway, Sam found himself watching his brother more and more, picking up on the subtle hints that Dean tried to hide behind a quick smile; the tells that only Sam could decipher… the signs that the deal and its ramifications had his superhero big brother scared to death.

And really, who in their right mind wouldn't be?

Dean tried hard to keep his game face on, and Sam was sure that to the rest of the world, his brother's bravado was convincing.

But Sam knew him better than that.

He knew Dean was scared. He was facing an eternity in Hell – Sam would've been more concerned if he wasn't. But Dean was determined to approach his fate like he did everything else: pedal to the metal, no holds barred. He was going to live what was left of his life to the fullest and take out as many of those evil sons-of-bitches as he could.

It was this determination in Dean's eyes that made Sam double his efforts to find a way out for his brother. There was no way he was going to let the demon take what was left of his family, deal or no deal. They'd already paid enough in this damned war. Sam was not going to lose anyone else.

He was not going to lose Dean.

The muted sounds of AC/DC floated from Dean's pocket and Sam turned his attention to his brother as he pulled a hand from the steering wheel, dug into his jacket and produced the small Chocolate cell phone.

Glancing at the caller ID, Dean raised his brows slightly in surprise. He snapped the phone open and placed it to his ear.

"Hey, Ellen. What's up?"

Sam kept his eyes glued to the older man, frowning as Dean's smile faltered and his brows came together over his eyes.

"Wha… how?"

Sam couldn't make out the other end of the conversation, but he could tell from the way Dean's shoulders suddenly slumped that it was bad news.

"I'm sorry, Ellen."

Dean's voice had dropped to a low whisper, barely discernable above the rush of the wind past the open windows. Sam watched his brother swallow hard, his left hand tightening on the steering wheel as he nodded his head to something said on the other end of the line.

"We're about three hours out." He paused and licked his lips, throwing a glance to Sam, who held up a hand in inquiry. Shaking his head once, he turned his attention back to the road and cleared his throat before continuing. "Yeah, we got it. Ellen…"

Sam couldn't make out the words, but he could hear the rumble of Ellen's voice through the phone. Whatever she said was obviously final since Dean lowered his hand from his ear and closed the phone without another word.

Sam waited a few moments, his eyes moving from the phone, now lying loosely in Dean's hand on his lap, to his brothers profile, hoping for some kind of an explanation. After a few moments, Dean dropped the phone in the seat, raised his hand back to the steering wheel, squeezing until his knuckles turned white.

"Dean?"

At Sam's soft inquiry, the older man finally snapped out of his thoughtful stupor and turned his attention to his brother. His eyes skittered toward Sam, but quickly refocused on the dark asphalt before them.

"That was Ellen."

"Yeah, Dean. I got that." He turned sideways in the seat and leaned forward to get a better look at his brother's face. "What's wrong? Did something happen? Is Ellen okay?"

Dean took a shaky breath and released it as if steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"Ellen's.. no. Not really."

Sam's frustration was growing and he tried to swallow it down. "Dean. What?"

Dean cleared his throat and shook his head, his eyes glued to the road, but Sam was pretty sure it wasn't the asphalt he was seeing.

"She just got word." Dean threw another glance at Sam and pulled the Impala to the side of the road. Roughly shifting the big Chevy into park and cutting the engine, Dean leaned back against the seat and let his hands fall limply onto his thighs. "Apparently Jo was on a hunt near Omaha… Ellen didn't have the specifics, but…." Dean took a deep breath and ran a hand around the back of his neck. "The hunt somehow went south and…"

Sam's eyes widened in concern at the picture his brother was painting. "Jo? Is she okay?"

Dean turned his head toward his brother, but didn't raise his eyes. "Jo's dead."

Sam's breath caught in his throat and he fell back against the seat. "Damn."

"Yeah."

They both sat motionless, staring out into the distance, trying to come to terms with the loss of yet another person who had impacted upon their lives.

When he finally spoke, Dean's voice was low and coarse. "I'm getting real tired of losing people I care about, Sammy."

Sam turned his head toward his brother, trying not to let his mind wander to the fact that in less than a year, there was a possibility he was going to lose everything. "I know," he whispered. "Me, too."

………………………………………………..

It had taken a little over three hours to reach Omaha, neither brother saying much as they both tried to remember the feisty young blonde they had become fond of over the last year. They hadn't really had much contact with her after she had come right out and accused their father of being responsible for her father's death outside of the one meeting in Minnesota, but they hadn't really blamed her for her feelings. Ellen had believed that John Winchester was responsible and that was what she had told her daughter. Whether it was true or not, it hadn't changed the way the boys felt about the Harvelles. They had called John family once and, despite what they believe had gone down all those years ago, Ellen had welcomed them without question. As far as Dean and Sam were concerned, that was as good as blood.

Dean pulled the Impala into a space in front of the Omaha Medical Center. Ellen had given them the location where Jo's body was being held. She had already called a local mortuary to claim the body, but had wanted someone to be there for Jo. She would arrive first thing in the morning to accompany her daughter back home. But it had been pretty clear from the short conversation earlier that she wanted whatever responsible for her daughter's death dealt with as quickly and harshly as possible. The Winchesters had no problem fulfilling that request.

Ellen hadn't known where Jo was staying, but had instructed the hospital to release her daughter's personal effects to Sam and Dean. Hopefully, they would be able to track Jo's case and find something that would tell them exactly what had killed her.

The brothers sat in the car, staring at the main doors of the bustling city hospital, neither making any move to begin the process of saying goodbye to yet another friend.

"You know Jo really had a thing for you."

"I know."

Sam turned to his brother, his head tilted in question. "The two of you… you never…"

"No."

"No?"

Dean shrugged, his eyes still on the people coming and going through the busy doors of the hospital. "It just never… Like I told Jo, wrong place, wrong time."

Sam laughed softly. "That doesn't sound like you."

Dean ignored his brother's jibe. "What can I say? It was just too soon after Dad…. You said it yourself, Sigmund, I was tail-spinning. I was trying to deal with what Dad had done and… I don't know, it just never felt right, ya know?"

Sam smiled sadly, silently cursing the bad timing that seemed to be a constant in their lives. "Well, she still felt something for you." He frowned as scattered memories of the last time he had seen Jo came to mind. "I remember some of the time when I was possessed, and it was pretty obvious she still –"

"Yeah. I noticed."

Sam sighed. "Do you think if you two had met under different circumstances, that maybe you might have… maybe it may have worked out?"

Dean laughed quietly, but there was no humor in the act. "I don't know, Sammy. Doesn't really matter much now."

Sam nodded and lowered his eyes, suddenly finding something incredibly interesting on his left thumb. "I just… God. Ellen, This has to be killing her. To lose everyone…"

Dean glanced at Sam, a sad smile gracing his features as he was reminded how thankful he was to have his kid brother alive and breathing next to him. "Yeah," he said sadly. "I know how she feels."

Sam lifted his head and gave his brother a half smile to let him know that the irony wasn't lost on him. "I just wish there was something we could do for her, Dean. Something to make this easier somehow –"

"Trust me, Sammy, There's nothing anyone can do to make this easier on her. All we can do right now is take care of Jo until Ellen gets here. After that, we'll find whatever it was that Jo was hunting, whatever it was that killed her and we'll take care of it. That's what Ellen needs us to do."

Sam nodded again, his eyes drifting back to his thumb. "I know. This job. It just takes and takes…"

"But it's worth it, Sam."

The younger brother looked up, his eyes searching Dean's for some kind of truth. Mom, Dad, Pastor Jim, Caleb, now Jo. And Dean…. "Is it?"

Dean smiled, reached a hand across the Impala and lightly slapped his brother's shoulder. "It's worth it. Some genius college boy told me that a while back.

Sam pushed his brother's arm away, returning the smile with one of his own, thankful for the brief attempt at levity. "Since when do you listen to genius college boys?"

He gave Sam a cocky grin before pushing open the drivers door. "Oh, I always listen, little brother. It's just that they rarely have anything worth hearing."

TBC