"Are we really going to sit here, not saying anything to each other?" I had to ask. We were in a 'rustic' little bar & grill known as 'Rolling Rock' that made the concept 'fire trap' seem inviting. But it was known to hunters and word was the food was okay and the kitchen was clean, so we stopped here to eat. Well, I stopped here to eat, Sam I guess was just along for the ride.

"Something you want me to say?"

Sam didn't sound angry, not yet, but I could tell it was there, under the surface. Just waiting to bust out. All over me.

Just not my day.

The place was small but packed. There was even an ancient German shepherd laying at the feet of some huge guy at the bar. I was waiting for my late lunch and/or early dinner. Sam had a cup of coffee in front of him that was apparently just for show.

"Say something man. You haven't said a word since breakfast and Duluth is a hell of a long way away from here." I said.

"Nothing is a 'hell' of a long way away anymore."

Oh, here we go. Sam Winchester, bringer of the Apocalypse. Whatever. Can we move on now?

"Geesh. Eat something, Sam. Low blood sugar makes you crabby."

"Shut the hell up."

"You know, I'm sick of your attitude. Can we just please get our heads in the game?"

I guess my anger was just under the surface too.

"You think I'm not in the game?" Sam asked me. Demanded of me. We'd had too many days of too many miles, too much heat, too much silence, and one or both of us was gonna blow without too much more provocation. I just snarked something at him and got up to go to the bar.

The old German shepherd barked, I didn't think at me, but the guy she was sitting next to sure thought so.

"You touchin' my dog?" The guy barked as loud as the dog. He could give Sam lessons in snarling. The guy, not the dog.

"I'm nowhere near your dog."

The dog barked again and the guy stood up. And up. Gee whiz. Sam's got most of his length in his body, this guy had it in his body and in his legs and he made Sam look small.

"You stay away from my dog." He barked again and just to be sure I got the message, he wrapped one massive hand around my arm.

Just. Not. My. Day.

"Look -."

Worried that his fist might be wearing my face in a minute, I was about to employ diplomacy if not invoke common sense when a huge hand that still wasn't huge enough clamped around the guy's wrist and the freight train currently known as Sam Winchester filled the space between us.

"Take your hand off his arm before I take it off of yours."

Great, my idiot brother wouldn't talk to me, but he would take on Megatron to defend me. If they got to fighting, the whole place would be toothpicks in no time flat. The stare-down lasted five seconds, but it was the longest five seconds this side of hell.

"It's all right, Sam." I said, but I kept my eyes on the guy. "Just a misunderstanding."

And it took another five seconds before the guy looked back at me.

"Yeah. Misunderstanding."

He let go. Sam let go. He sat down. Sam - glowered a little bit more. I looked at the dog who wagged her tail and barked again. The guy looked at me, and just as he took a breath to warn me again - his expression turned even darker.

"Gas leak - you smell that? Gas leak."

Sam moved down to the end of the bar and nodded back to me and in another second I smelled it too. There was a natural gas leak and it was growing by the second.

"We've got to get these people out of here." Sam said.

Before we could make a move, dog-guy was calling out over the bar, over the din, into the kitchen and across the room, yelling at people to get out, with a voice that put even Sam's deepest voice to shame, and believe me, the patrons ran out of there without hesitation.

The cook - or so I gathered from his all-white uniform and greasy apron - ran out from the back and up to dog-guy.

"Melvin's out in the back stairway. He's got Howard with him!"

"I'll get him." Dog-guy said. At his feet though, his dog whined.

"We'll get 'em." I said. "You get your dog out. Where's the back stairway?"

"Through the kitchen, next to the hamper."

I nodded to Sam and he nodded back and headed to rescue Melvin & Howard.

"Anybody else?" I asked, of both cook and dog-guy.

Turns out somebody named Seth who was stone deaf was snoozing in a far back corner. I went to roust him while dog-guy scooped his dog up in his arms and started out of the place and Sam came back from his mission tugging on a little old guy who was carrying of all things a very large turtle. Which one was Melvin and which one was Howard I wondered.

Sam was coughing, the guy was coughing, even the turtle was looking a little droopy for a turtle. My guy Seth was confused but mobile. Dog-guy was already out the door with his German shepherd.

We all got out just as the cavalry was arriving. Fire department, paramedics, gas company. Far off to the left of the parking lot, dog-guy set his dog down on the grass. She wavered a little on her legs then collapsed. Once Sam was a safe distance away and Seth was relinquished to paramedics, I went over to dog and dog-guy, who was kneeling next to her.

"She OK?" I asked.

"No." He said. He didn't take his eyes off the dog.

"You want me to get a paramedic? Maybe they can give her oxygen or something."

"It's not the gas leak." He said that and didn't seem like he was going to say anything else. I was going to walk away and leave him to his dog but then he added, "She lost her legs four days ago. I'm having her put to sleep tomorrow." He stroked the dog with a hand that was wider than the dog's head. "I've had her fourteen years, I was there when she was born." He looked up at me then. "Sorry for the trouble."

"Naah - you don't know trouble until you've messed with my brother. Oh wait - you did." I smiled and he smiled and I turned to find my pain in the ass little brother - just in time to see Sam fall to his knees on the grass on the other side of the parking lot.

I don't remember running but all of a sudden I was next to Sam. A paramedic was next to him too, trying to get him to lie down and put on an oxygen mask but he tried to argue her off.

"I'm fine - just - just give me a minute. I'm -."

Yeah, yeah. Tell me another one.

"Just do as you told, Sam. Lay down and let the nice lady save your life, okay?"

He gave in, probably just waiting for me to push him to give him the excuse. He turned himself over and laid on his back on the grass and let the paramedic slip a mask over his face.

I sat on the grass next to him, crossed my hands over my knees and looked around a little. Turtle-guy was sitting not too far away with an oxygen mask on. Even the turtle was sitting there with a mask on the ground in front of his - uh, face.

"I wonder which one is Melvin and which one is Howard." I mused out loud.

"Howard is the turtle." Sam told me from behind his mask.

"How d'you know?"

"Melvin told me. Howard is seventy-five, his grandfather, Melvin's grandfather, brought him home from a world tour back during the Depression. He can live to be over one hundred. The turtle, not the grandfather. The grandfather lived to be ninety-seven. He's been married three times. Melvin not the turtle..."

"Dude - you were gone forty-six seconds. How the hell did you find all that out?"

"He told me."

I scoffed and shook my head.

"Geesh, I should get a turtle."

"Why?"

"You haven't said a word to me in six hours. Melvin you chat up a storm with."

There was a definite pause.

"He doesn't know what I've done." Sam said.

"Not talking to me isn't going to make me forget."

Well that made him shut up in a way I didn't intend. So I watched the paramedic go over to check on the guy and his dog, she reached out to pet the dog and started asking the guy questions. I felt bad for the dog and for the guy. I guess I must've sighed.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah." I answered, still looking at the guy and the dog and having an idea what he was feeling, facing having to make her die tomorrow. "I feel kind of tired right now." I turned to Sam.

"You hanging on?"

"I might hurl."

"Good thing we didn't eat lunch yet then, I guess."

He chuffed a laugh and coughed and took a deep breath.

"The dog's sick?"

He gestured over to the dog and the dog-guy and the paramedic, now crouched down, still petting the dog and talking to the guy.

"He's gotta have her put to sleep tomorrow. He's had her fourteen years."

Sam didn't answer that. He took another deep breath of oxygen.

"So - I been a grouch, hunh?" He asked.

"Maybe no more than I've been."

"There's an awful lot of weight bearing down on us."

"So how about we stop adding to it ourselves?" I asked him. "Start fighting back the ones who are putting it there?"

"Dean - I don't think - I can't -."

"Yes, you can. Sammy - you have to. Who else is gonna take on giants to protect me?" Now I gestured over to dog-guy. Sam didn't answer, I could tell that question made him uncomfortable. The Apocalypse had come because he'd been trying to slay giants for me.

"We should go, hunh?" Was what Sam asked. He took off the mask and sat up next to me. "It's late and somebody hasn't had lunch yet."

"Right behind you." I said.

We stood up and our paramedic didn't come back over to us but stayed with the dog and the guy. I thought I recognized a particular tilt of her head and a particular posture of his body and I hoped the guy had found something that maybe would help with losing the dog. Sometime or another, something good had to come out of everything bad.

We headed for the car and Melvin gave us a 'thumbs up' as we passed him and I really do think Howard nodded at us. The other paramedics were busy with the other bar patrons and we got away without being noticed.

"I do gotta wonder - " I said when we were on the road away from there. " - you were going to take on that giant? He would've handed you your head."

"I know." Sam admitted, a little too easily for my liking.

"You know? Did you have a plan for after that?"

"Yeah..." He grinned. "I planned that my big brother was gonna take him down."

"Oh." I said, knowing full well that that's exactly what would've happened. "Good plan."

The End.