Disclaimer: I do not own them.

Warning: I do believe there is actually no swearing in this fic. Or gore, or anything much warning-worthy actually. Wow.

Author's Note: Okay, so everyone was a little, ah, upset with how I left Into Hell's Fires. I do admit it was a little mean. Okay, more than a little. But to make up for it, I'm posting the first three chapters of this latest one. Okay, so it's because of that, and because the first three are maybe a little, ah, long-winded, because they're filling in the last two months since the end of Into Hell's Fires, and setting up the hunt. So, enjoy, and I swear I will probably never ever leave a story on a cliffhanger again.

GOOD SAMARITAN

Chapter 1: One Step At A Time

The room they were waiting in was white and sterile. Dean Winchester sat in the corner of the hospital room. Well, in actual fact he stood, ignoring the chair directly to his left. But he didn't move, didn't speak, didn't do anything but watch Sam.

The younger Winchester was the main source of the tension in the room. He sat, dressed in his usual casual clothes, plus a pair of dark sunglasses, on the thin hospital bed, facing the window. His long legs swung over the side, almost touching the floor. He ignored the hospital pyjamas sitting next to him, as well as the white metal cane on top of them, the one he was desperate to disassociate himself with. Sam was angry, or frustrated, maybe both. And Dean's adamant pleading that he check into the hospital was the source of that.

They were waiting for the doctor to come back, so Sam could tell him he wasn't checking into the hospital after all. Dean decided he would try to change his little brother's mind once more, despite Sam's tense anger.

"Dude, you haven't given them enough time. They have other tests they can do. Maybe this time -."

Sam cut him off. "Exactly! This time. Dean, we've been to four different hospitals, seen four different specialists. All of them have said the same thing! There's nothing anyone can do to bring my vision back. They can't fix it!"

Dean wasn't about to give up. "Just give this doctor a chance. Just check in, let him run his tests. Maybe he'll -."

Again, the younger man cut him off mid-sentence. "No, Dean. Just no. I've had enough. All right? I'm sick of… everything. I just don't want to be… here! Jesus, it's not even your eyesight we're talking about. And it's not a problem a doctor, or medicine, is obviously able to fix. Every doctor has said the same thing. Maybe my sight will come back, maybe it won't. But there's nothing they, or you, can do about it!"

With that he jumped off the bed and grabbed the cane the first hospital had given him. Dean noted with disgruntled amusement that his blind brother didn't even grope for the damn thing this time. He did, however, struggle to find the door. Or would have if the doctor hadn't pushed through it first.

Dean jumped with the abrupt appearance, but Sam didn't even flinch. He knew instantly who the man was. In fact he had known the doctor had been going to enter. In the two months since he had rescued Dean, and lost his sight, his abilities seemed to have grown exponentially until they all but compensated for his lost sense. On the other hand, he missed vision with a passion that scared him.

"Doctor Walsh." Sam addressed the man before he could speak. "Thanks for your time, but I've changed my mind. I'm not checking in. I'm leaving."

He brushed past the doctor and left, noticing Dean hurrying to catch up with him. He sighed. That was the worst thing about his new disability. Dean's incessant mothering. He was taking Sam's blindness worse than Sam was, treating him like he was an invalid, instead of simply blind. He could still look after himself. Sure, inanimate objects like beds and chairs still presented a problem in new places, but he always knew when someone, or some creature, was around him. And at the same time he had found the ability to cut back on channelling everyone's emotions.

Dean caught up with him then, and Sam swallowed another sigh.

"Don't start," he warned his older brother. Dean didn't listen. He never did.

"Sam, that man could have given you your sight back. Why don't you just let him run his tests? What does it matter?"

Sam growled and stopped. Dean stopped too, after taking a few steps, and turned to face his little brother.

"Dean, it matters to me. I've had enough of being prodded and poked. Anyway, it's not like we've heard anything different from any of the doctors you've dragged me to see!"

"Yeah, well, maybe this guy's different," Dean began, but Sam shook his head.

"He started off exactly the same." The younger hunter put on a fair imitation of Doctor Walsh's voice. "'Your preliminary tests have produced unusual results. It's hard to tell what actually caused your loss of vision. You said you witnessed an explosion of light? Yes, well, the results could indicate that." Sam shook his head again, going back to his normal voice. "If there was a cure for watching a fire demon explode, the first doctor would have found it, Dean."

Dean frowned, though Sam wasn't sure whether it was physical or not. "Sam, you wanna watch how loud you're talking there."

Sam knew no one was close enough to hear. "Dean, I've had enough. There's not going to be any miraculous cure. I'm going to be blind for a while, and whether that's forever isn't up to either of us. But enough is enough."

Dean seemed to cave then. He slumped, sighing, and Sam knew he had finally won.

"Fine Sam. Fine." He turned and began walking. Sam walked next to him. "So what are we going to do?" the older Winchester asked, his voice sounding tired.

Sam answered immediately. "Back to hunting. Back to killing that bastard who killed Jess and Mum." He was itching to get back on it; his blindness was only more incentive to prove himself in the hunt.

Dean on the other hand, seemed to have different ideas. He was suddenly sad. "Sam, as much as I hate it, you're blind. How the hell can you hunt?"

Sam stopped again. He grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him to a halt, with more force than was probably necessary.

"Of course I can still hunt! My…" He paused as two nurses walked by. "My abilities have grown. In a hunt, I'll be just as good. Remember back in New Jersey, with that ghost?" He didn't mention Dean's capture that same night, since it had led to his blindness. Dean already felt guilty enough about that. "Yeah, well, it's ten times more powerful."

He heard Dean swallow. "What if it stops working?"

Sam shook his head. "It hasn't yet, in the month and a half since we left Anya and Ash back in Cincinnati." For the first two weeks, it had been on and off, but now it was just on, which came as some relief to Sam.

"What if something starts throwing things at you? You still walk into your bed back at the motel, and we've been there a week." He shook his head. "No, we're not hunting. It's too dangerous."

"What?" He meant Sam would be a liability. But that wasn't what shocked his anger into icy rage. "You're not stopping too, are you? What happened to all that shit about, 'there's always going to be something to hunt'? We're not stopping. Not both of us, anyway."

Dean was torn. "Look, Sam, I know what I said. But things have changed -."

Sam interrupted him. "No shit, genius. You know, I hadn't noticed. Must be the constant darkness I'm living in. But we are not stopping hunting. You are not stopping hunting."

One step at a time, Sam told himself. He reined in his own needs, his own need to keep on hunting. "Look, if I have to stop, I have to stop. But that doesn't mean both of us have to. I can still help, with other things. If you don't want me doing the actual fighting…" He sighed. "I can deal with that. But there are far too many innocent people out there who could die because you use my disability as an excuse."

Dean was silent for a moment. Then he nodded. "Fine. We'll keep on hunting." Suddenly Sam felt him grin. "I do know of a job in Atlanta that could use us," he told his younger brother sheepishly.

Sam shook his head, forcing his own grin. Dean didn't even notice. "I knew you couldn't stop." He shrugged. "All right. Atlanta it is."

They both turned and walked silently from the hospital. Sam barely noticed. He wanted so bad to hunt. To hunt anything, not necessarily the demon who had killed his mum, and Jess. But he couldn't do that if Dean wasn't hunting either. One step at a time. He could deal with it. He would deal with it.

One Week Later

Steve Lee drove slowly along the backwoods road into Richmond, Georgia. Slowly because the road wasn't exactly safe, especially in the dark. And his car wasn't the best going around either. That, and he always had been a safe driver.

He sighed, turning down the radio as the song finished and talking followed. Then he rubbed his eyes. He was tired but he needed to get home tonight. His father wasn't well, and he needed Steve to run the sports store he owned.

He yawned, thinking about the home cooked meal and bed awaiting him at his parents' home. And then, concentrating back on the dark road, shoved all thoughts of home from his mind.

There, maybe two hundred metres ahead, was a car, a black Mustang, on the side of the road. It hadn't crashed, but broken down. Or so Steve assumed from the steam coming from under the open hood.

Immediately feeling suspicious, Steve still slowed down. He was fifty metres away when he saw the woman leaning against the side of the car, looking anxious.

His sense of decency got the better of him and he pulled over behind the woman's car. She stood up straight at seeing him, and her face tightened.

Steve got out of the car nevertheless. He smiled in what he hoped was a gentle, reassuring way.

"Hi," he said, stopping a little distance away from her. He didn't want to frighten the poor woman. "Do you need some help?"

It wasn't half obvious that she did, but Steve knew she was already a little anxious about his sudden appearance. He wasn't going to press himself on her.

She searched him for a moment, then looked back at her car. When she looked back she was grinning slightly.

"Yeah, I do. I don't know what happened. I was driving and then it started steaming. I pulled over just as it conked out."

Steve smiled. "I know a little about cars. I can take a look if you want."

She nodded with relief. "That would be great, thanks."

Steve nodded back, moving forward. He took her in as he passed. Not the best looking woman, she had gentle green eyes that he couldn't help but stare at. She was solid but her height made her seem more slender than she was.

He bent down over the engine, putting her eyes out of his mind. He leaned on the front, studying the car.

"It looks like your radiator's busted. You're going to need a new one," he said loudly from under the hood. He felt her approach and lean down near him.

"Will that be expensive?" she asked, cringing. He spared her a look as he searched for any further damage.

"Not too bad. You'll be able to get one in town." He quickly checked his watch. "You won't get a tow truck at this hour, but I can give you a lift in if you like."

He turned to look at her again, and then stood up straight. The woman had disappeared. He spun, frowning. Where had she gone?

"Hello?" he called out to the darkness. There was no answer. No sign of the woman.

He spun again, and then gasped. The car had disappeared. His car stood there still, lights highlighting an otherwise empty road. He put a hand to his head and turned, sure he was going crazy.

He barely felt the hit on the head, but fell into darkness nonetheless. It consumed him, and filled him, and then he knew nothing.