Author note: This takes place after Phantom Traveler (season 1) before the boys were aware John was off on a quest to find the thing that killed his wife. All references will be of past seasons going as far as season 11's "Form and Void".

Sam didn't need to wonder. He just knew. His chosen career path had not gone as planned, but that was ok. As one of his former high school teachers had said — as long as he was happy.

You are happy Sam, aren't you?

This line of work provided no happy endings; he was sure of that.

A change of scenery would clear his mind. He felt nauseous. Whether it was from the drive-thru breakfast burrito this morning or the sloppy clean-up of last night's chimera slaughter, he couldn't be sure. With the absence of their father, it had seemed that the creatures that went bump in the night seemed to grow more wicked than Sam remembered. He couldn't recall growing up if they had ever encountered a chimera nest, but he hoped it would be the last. All he knew was that if they hit one more pot hole on the long stretch of highway between Ohio and Indiana, he was going to vomit.

His older brother didn't seem to mind the road conditions and continued to wrap his knuckles against the dashboard in tune with CCR's 'Bad Moon Rising'.

It was nearing nightfall and they had been on the road for a little over four hours. After leaving the rural heights of Streetsboro — a town six miles east of Cleveland behind, Sam found himself reflecting on the day's events. He thought he would never be able to rid himself of the foul stench the creatures released after being dismembered and burned alive. He shivered, trying not to remember the human faces that he knew would haunt him for the rest of his life. Thankfully, he was spared the grotesque task of skinning one of the chimera victims alive by chance when a steel beam had sliced the poor being in two, severing the chimera parts from human. She had died instantly.

Still, the hunt left him feeling sorry for the unfortunate souls who had fallen prey to the chimera. They had been a part of the general population once, only to be rendered helpless as cruel test subjects in a sick experiment consisting of animal human hybridization. Sam couldn't forget the look of agony in the woman's eyes as she was forced to attack and kill those who threatened the lair. Her human half had fought hard trying to delay the attacks, but had been forced to obey the chimera half. She had tried to plead with him to end her life, and he knew he'd never be able to forget her voice. He wished that severing the parts would have saved the victims, but hopes of that had been dashed when Dean reluctantly informed him that — much like vampirism — there was no known cure. He had buried her body, along with the others, as best as he could manage, hoping that wherever they went, they were finally at peace.

Another pot hole and he was closer to having his brother pull over so he could spew his guts on the side of the road. Dean, on the other hand, was coping with the events of their recent hunt just as well as he did with the rest by storing it into the deepest depths of his mind, a place where access was restricted. Sam secretly envied his brother's ability to rejuvenate from a hunt so quickly, but also found him a bit cold at the lack of empathy for the victims. They hadn't had a say in their transformations; therefore, he didn't see them as ruthless killing machines like Dean did. He was always black and white about such things, much like their father. Still, he hadn't completely dismissed it. There had been a brief mention of "poor bastards" before his brother had torched the rest of the lair.

"Come on man, just spill."

Sam snapped to attention at the sudden voice after many hours of uneasy silence.

Dean briefly made eye contact before turning back to the road. "I know you're still thinking about it, Sam," he continued, careful to keep the edge from his tone.

"I'm not," was what he wanted to say, but Sam felt the words die on his lips. He was tired of thinking, tired of seeing people he cared about in pain and most of all, tired of wasting time while Jessica's killer still lived. Dean seemed to be able to read his mind.

"Let it go. Nothing that we could have done would have saved her. She had turned weeks ago."

The words echoed in his mind, and of course the rational part of Sam knew he hadn't been referring to Jess, but the pain still lingered. There was always something that could have been done. It had seemed that they always arrived too late. He had failed her like he had failed at keeping Jessica safe. It was his fault they were both dead.

"Sam, it's not your fault."

Dean was in his head again. He chose not to respond, instead letting the guilt wash over him. He heard a resigned sigh, and resorted to ignoring it, slumping his head against the window. Dean would never understand. He was still unaware of the truth. Sam accepted that he would have to live with the guilt of her death on his hands. He would never forgive himself for what he had done. He could feel his brother's eyes on him, but there was nothing he could say to change his mind. Still, Dean tried to get through to him.

"Sam – "

Dean was suddenly cut off by an earsplitting screech that seemed to engulf the whole vehicle. He narrowly avoided colliding into a freight truck, cutting the wheel at a hard right and sending poor Sam's head into the passenger side window. The impala skidded off the rumble strips, slowing them down from the brunt of the impact but sending the front end into the embankment with a dull thud.

"What the hell is that!" Dean shouted through covered ears, but the screeching reached a deafening volume, drowning out his voice entirely. Sam, dazed from the force of the blow to his head, looked up just in time to see the windshield shatter, glass shards spraying both boys like ocean mist. They barely had time to recover before a blinding white light erupted from above the shattered windshield, immersing them both in its enormity.

"Dean…" Sam managed, locking eyes with his now panicked older brother before they were both swept into darkness.