"Looks like some garden variety serial killer," John said to his two sons. "Not our kind of job.

"We're leaving, then?" Dean asked eagerly, already bored with Fort Myers, Florida, though they'd been there less than two days. It was hot and their motel was one of the few around too cheap to have a pool.

John nodded with satisfaction. "I talked to Bobby. He's got a Wendigo, or maybe a werewolf, up in northern Minnesota, killed a couple people last month. Full moon is in a couple days, so we'll head up there."

"Cool!" Pleased, Dean grinned at his younger brother, then looked quickly away, hoping his father wouldn't notice Sam's unhappy face.

Not looking at his father, the youngest Winchester rose silently from his seat at the table and went into the bathroom, emerging a couple seconds later with his hands full of toiletries. He started stuffing them into his duffel bag with sharp, abrupt movements.

John's sharp eyes fastened on his younger boy's face. "You have something to say, Sam?"

Sam's voice was carefully neutral. "No, sir." Head lowered, dark shaggy hair hanging down into his face, he gathered up his sleep clothes and packed them as well.

"Good." John kept his gaze on Sam for a minute more, then looked over at Dean. "You two go fuel up the Impala. And pick up some road food while you're at it."

"Yes, sir," Dean said immediately.

"I'll pack up the rest of our stuff," John continued, his mind back on business, already miles down the highway. "We'll hit the road as soon as you get back."

"Yes, sir." With an obedient nod to his father, Dean gathered up his silent brother and the two boys left their father packing up his gear.

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On the drive to the gas station, Dean countered Sam's brooding silence by turning up the radio as far it would go.

When that got no result, he tried warbling along with the music, purposely singing as horrifically off-key as he could and watching his brother out of the corner of his eye for a reaction.

Nothing.

Hell.

With a resigned sigh, Dean turned off the radio. "Okay, sunshine, what crawled up your ass and died?"

Sam shot him a dark glance, but said nothing.

Dean reached over, shoved him a little. "Come on, where's my grouchy little brother? How am I gonna survive without my daily dose of bitchy Sammy?" He dug his fingers into Sam's side. "Helloooo! Anybody in there?"

Sam scowled and knocked his hand away. "Knock it off, you asshole!"

"Aha, he lives!" Dean crowed in triumph. "Knew I could get you to talk!"

Sam glared daggers at him. "Why can't you just leave me the hell alone? Just because you got laid last night doesn't mean everyone else has to be in a good mood!"

Dean gave a shout of laughter and Sam's lips twisted in an unwilling smile.

"Ha!" Dean shoved him again. "I saw that! Come on, tell me what's wrong."

Sam's smile dropped away and Dean groaned. "Come on!"

"I can't believe you're even asking me that!" Sam said angrily. "Jesus, Dean!"

"What? Dude, I'm not psychic. Spill!"

Sam growled something indistinct.

Dean put a hand behind his ear and leaned over to the side a bit. "Eh? What's that?"

"I said, 'what's the point, you guys never listen anyway'." Sam repeated, loud and clear. "So 'fuck it!'"

"Whoa, language!" Dean said, a little startled. His little brother didn't usually toss the F-bomb around. "Dad would kick your ass if he heard you."

"So what?" Sam's grin at Dean was challenging. "So - fucking - what! Let's just move on. Again!"

"Hold on." Dean's brow furrowed. "This is because we're leaving town?"

"Whoa, got it in one!" Sam said sarcastically.

"You knew we wouldn't be here long." Dean was starting to get a little ticked. "What's the big deal? And why the hell are you mad at me?"

"Because you're just like him!" Sam glared at him. "You two drag me around like I'm some piece of damned luggage!" He huffed out an angry breath. "Neither of you give a damn how screwed up my life is!"

Suddenly and absolutely done with his brother's tantrum, Dean jerked the Impala over to the side of the busy road. "That's enough, damn it!"

"The hell it is!" Sam shouted back. "I've been in six schools so far this year and it's only December!" He slammed a hand down on the dashboard. "Six!"

Dean faltered slightly at that fact, then shoved it aside and pushed forward. "Moving around, changing schools, that's just the way it is. People depend on us. Sacrifices have to be made."

"Why does it have to be us?" Sam protested, the familiar taste of frustration bitter in his mouth.

"You know why!" Dean bit out. "You know."

Sam did know. And lost it.

"It's not fair! Just because Mom's dead doesn't mean we have to die, too!"

Dean gasped and abruptly all the air got sucked out of the Impala. The two stared at each other, both horror-struck at Sam's words.

"Sam, you - " Dean swallowed hard, fought for control against the flood of searing memories. "You bastard." He faced forward again, both hands tight on the wheel.

"Dean, I didn't mean it," Sam said, helpless in the face of his brother's grief. "I'm sorry."

"Shut it." Taking a shaky breath, Dean pulled the car back out into the flow of traffic.

The rest of the short drive was deathly silent.

Spotting a gas station/convenience store, Dean pulled in and stopped in front of one of the pumps. Without looking at his younger brother, he said flatly, "I'll get the supplies. You pump."

"Dean, wait –"

Dean ignored him, getting out quickly and slamming the door of the Impala behind him.

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Browsing through the jumble of miscellaneous crap inside the convenience store, Dean gathered together an assortment of chips, sandwiches, soda and beer. Minnesota was a hell of a long drive – more than twenty hours – and he knew his dad was going to want to drive all the way through with the full moon being so close.

Road food. Huh. What Dad meant was get enough junk food to keep us going 'cause we're not stopping for anything. Except for gas, it'd be strictly cross your legs time.

Which also meant he had to make sure Sam took care of business before they left. Damned kid, always had to stop ten miles into every road trip to pee.

Dean glanced out front to where he could see that Sam had finished gassing up the Impala and was now leaning morosely against her.

Damned kid . . .

Underneath Dean's hurt and bitter anger, he knew that Sam had a valid complaint, but that didn't make his younger brother's crack about their mother's death any easier to take.

Sure, all this travelling around was hard on his brother. Hell, it was hard on all of them! But what they were doing was important. Getting revenge on whatever killed Mom was important. Why didn't Sam get that? Dean chewed his lip unhappily.

Sam was right. It wasn't fair. None of it. They should all be back in Lawrence. Dad and Mom together. Him doing who the hell knows what. College maybe. Sam in high school, getting straight A's and losing his virginity like every other normal, brainiac teenager.

Like Sam said. Not fair. But that didn't give the kid a license to be a dick. That dream life was never gonna happen. The sooner his kid brother accepted it, the better off they'd all be. In the meantime, Dean was going to make sure their dad never found out what Sam had said. No need for the hellfire that was sure to start burning.

Grabbing a package of powdered doughnuts to top off his stack of heart disease, Dean made his way back to the front of the small store.

At the register, the cashier, a buxom brunette, raised a shapely eyebrow as she started to ring up his purchases. "Road trip?"

Dean rested an elbow on the counter and grinned engagingly, running an appreciative eye over her curvaceous figure. "Yeah, heading out today." He checked out her name tag. "Sandy."

"Too bad." She fluttered long, thickly-mascaraed eyelashes at him and leaned over, ample bosom spilling generously out of the top of her blouse. "It's a fun town, if you have someone to show you around.

He ramped up the voltage of his smile. "Well, you never know, we might be back some day. Maybe I'll look you up."

Sandy smiled. "And maybe I'll show you around." She finished ringing him up. "That'll be $23.48." She took his proffered credit card, then glanced past him out the front window. Her brown eyes widened with astonishment. "Hey!"

There was a loud squeal of brakes and a blaring of horns. Startled, Dean swung around and looked outside to see Sam standing in the middle of the street, cars swerving and careening frantically around him.

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Getting back on the horse, here. I've had this sequel rough drafted for a couple of months and it's decided it wants to move to the front. I'm also working on the next chapter for My Boys (having to start it over since my last laptop died and took the chapter with it). Will still be working on my crossover and word prompts, but the main focus will be on this and MB. Thanks for all your patience. Hope you all like this. Let me know. :)