Author's Note: This takes place sometime after The Benders episode, but before the next one (I forget which is next in line). So therefore, spoilers may occur from any episode from the pilot on, with one small spoiler from Something Wicked. Thanks for taking the time to read my ramblings with our favorite boys.

Second Time Around

Sam paced nervously around the small motel room. He only had a few minutes, ten…. fifteen at best, until Dean returned. Dean had not left his side ever since they left Minnesota, and although deep down he was touched, he was starting to get aggravated. Dean tried to act like Sam went missing everyday, like it was just another thing. But Sam could see through his brother's macho exterior, and he could tell that almost losing Sam to those backwoods hicks really shook him. Sam had played nearly card to convince Dean to let him stay behind while Dean went on a food run. He felt bad about faking the headache, but it had worked like a charm.

Sam looked at his watch, then sat cross-legged on the bed. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to focus his thoughts. He was tired of being the victim. While Dean and Sam seemed to be an equal team, lately Sam had been feeling like a burden. First he gets saddled with skull piercing visions, then he manages to get himself kidnapped, sending Dean to his rescue. Well, no more. Sam was taking back control of his life.

Removing the lid of the aspirin bottle he swallowed three pills. Better safe than sorry. Ok, time to get these visions to work for him for a change. Shutting his eyes, he worked out the tension in his shoulders, and concentrated on keeping his breathing slow and even. Sam put all thoughts away; only one thing remained in the forefront of his thoughts. "Dad."

Dean balanced the coffee and takeout bags in one hand while opening the door with the other. He'd yelled for Sam to come give him a hand, but the door remained locked. Finally getting the door open, he walked through the doorway and stopped, a confused but semi-amused look on his handsome face.

Sam was sitting rigidly on the bed, his hands resting on his knees. Was he meditating? Oh this was too good. A soft smile etched on his lips, Dean hooked his leg around the back of the door, and slammed it so hard the picture on the wall rattled. He leaned casually against the door as Sam's eyes popped open in alarm. Dean laughed heartily as Sam nearly fell off the bed. Regaining his balance, an embarrassed Sam glared at Dean, his fists wrapped tightly in the bedspread.

"Dammit, Dean, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Sam exclaimed angrily.

Still laughing, Dean walked over to Sam and held out one of the coffees. "So, Sammy, whatcha doin'?"

Sam glared as he reached for the cup. Just before he was about to grab it, Dean moved it out of reach. "No way," Dean said, shaking his head. "Not until you tell me what you were doing, Buddha Boy."

Sam focused on the bed, as if the right answer lay in the red polka dotted bedspread. Wow, they sure had a knack for finding the ugliest motel rooms in America. Maybe when this whole thing was over with, he could write a book on all the… "Sam!" Dean was still staring him down, waiting.

"I was trying to find Dad." he said softly.

"What, by daydreaming?" Realization hit Dean, and he sat down on his own bed. "Oh, you mean, you were trying to find Dad."

"Yeah."

"So?"

"So what?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Sometimes Sam could be an Ivy League moron. "So what did you see?"

Sam sighed in frustration. "Nothing. Not Dad, not the thing he's hunting. Nothing."

Dean took out a burger, then tossed the bag to Sam. "Well, it was a good idea. Next time, don't shut me out. I want to find Dad just as much as you do, you know."

Sam's reply was cut off as a muffled ringing sounded from Dean's pocket. His stomach fluttered a little as he listened to Dean's end of the conversation. Is it possible that their Dad was on the other end? Had he somehow sensed Sam, and called them? Dean met Sam's eyes as he gave a tentative, "Hello?" A few agonizing seconds passed, then Dean continued. "Sure, Mr. Morgan, of course I remember you. How've you been?"

Sam set his food down, dejected. He supposed he knew deep down that their father wouldn't be contacting them again, but there was always that stubborn part of him that refused to give up hope.

Dean turned to face the window. The disappointment he'd seen on Sam echoed in his own heart. He focused on the voice he hadn't heard in over a year. "Well, Dean, I'm not gonna lie. I've been better."

"Is something going on?" Dean asked.

"Yes, I think so. I'm just not sure exactly what. I couldn't get hold of your dad at his number. Is he with you?"

Dean used his most professional tone. "Actually, he's out on a job, incommunicado. What's been happening? She's not back, is she?"

"I don't want to get into it over the phone. Listen, I really need the two of you to come out here. You must have some way to reach him."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Morgan, it's just not possible. He's in California helping a family." Our family, Dean thought to himself. "But I can come down if you like. If we leave now we can be there in two days."

Dean's mind was racing. It had been a fairly simple job; they came, they investigated, they conquered. Was it possible that they had missed something?

"We? You said your dad wasn't with you."

"No, he's not. Actually my brother Sam will be with me." Dean resisted the urge to add a quick barb. Anytime he could bust Sam's chops he took full advantage of it, but Mr. Morgan was obviously distressed. It was Dean's job to alleviate that stress, not add to it. "He's a very capable hunter."

"Oh good, good. You remember the address?" Dean could sense the relief in the man's voice.

"Yes. We're on our way." Dean hung up the phone and took a deep breath to calm his nervous stomach. Mr. Morgan sounded much more agitated than he did the last time. He hated not knowing what they were walking into.

"Well," he turned back around. "Time to hit the road."

Sam was standing before him, his bag already packed and slung over his shoulder.

"Where?" Sam asked.

Dean walked over to his own empty bag. Taking out his cell phone, he stared at it, as if magically it would present the answers that were stampeding through his head. He thought briefly about calling his father. Familiar feelings of bitterness and hurt began to surface, and he shoved the phone back into his pocket. His dad hadn't bothered to show up when Dean was dying, there was no reason to think he'd show up now.

Dean looked over at his brother, the one constant he had in his life. Sam was ready to spring into action, no questions asked.Sam hadnever shown their father that kind of trust. Dean felt his confidence soar; there wasn't anything the two of them couldn't handle. He tossed the car keys to Sam, and answered his brother's query, "Maryland."