A/n: This is going to be a short story, only a few chapters long. Rated T for language and later violence.

SPOILER ALERT: season 9, and some mentions of season 4 (in this chapter).

Thank you to everyone who follows me. Also to those who read, review, favorite, and/ follow this story and any of my other ones.

A special thank you toLilyBolt for your constant support and friendship. As well as to miXiZ for everything you have done with/for me.

This story was actually an idea pitched to me by miXiZ. She gave me the skeleton, I supplied the meat. This story is dedicated to you miXiZ! I hope you enjoy it! :-)

I do not own the boys or Supernatural.

Chapter 1

Dean watched from his spot at the Men of Letters study room table as his younger brother shuffled into view. His grey long sleeve V-neck was askew slightly and wrinkled, his neck length shaggy brown hair looked suitable for a bird to nest in, and his hazel eyes were barely open and still full of sleep. Dean followed his brother with his eyes as he made like a zombie towards the kitchen. Normally he found how Sam looked when he first woke up to be humorous, even go so far as to tease him about it. But he hadn't laughed or even smiled since Sam returned to the bunker angel free. He shook his head, picked up his glass of whiskey and took a drink. He had just made coffee only minutes before Sashquach made his appearance, so he knew it was still hot. He also knew that no matter how tired the youngest brother was, he always thanked Dean after he helped himself to a sip. Sam re-emerged, a white coffee cup now in his right hand as he shuffled back into Dean's line of sight.

"Hey," Dean called out. He didn't bother with the good mornings, he knew it was pointless as of late. Sam mumbled a reply into his coffee cup and continued walking. No thank you or real acknowledgement, yep, Sam was still pissed at him. "Caught a case," Dean said trying to hide the hurt in his voice at the lack of interest his brother had in him.

Sam sighed and scrubbed his face with his free hand making his way over as though he were a teenager being asked to help unload groceries from the car.

"Where?" He asked squinting over Dean's shoulder, but still at a bit of a distance from him.

"Walden Colorado. The State Forest State Park," he reported. "Don't know why they need so many States in the name but, whatever," he mumbled.

"What's it say?" Sam talked into his cup again, ignoring Dean's comment.

"People been reported missing."

"That's it?" The younger brother asked unimpressed.

"What, people disappearing not enough for you?" Dean snapped.

"It's the forest. It was probably a coyote or a bear or something," Sam gave a half hearted shrug.

"I'm thinking less animal more monster," Dean said turning to look at his brother.

"So...You're thinking Wendigo," Sam's eyes still scanned the computer screen. It hadn't been a question.

"In the flesh," was the oldest Winchester's response.

"But they're in Minnesota or north of Michigan. Why would they be in Colorado?"

"Beats me," Dean shrugged "Times have changed."

"And why do you think it's a Wendigo?" Sam asked still not making eye contact.

"No reports of finding any bodies, clothes, body parts, or bones."

"And they stash their prey away in some secluded lair," Sam said catching on. "Alright, give me an hour." Without another word and still no thank you for the coffee, Sam disappeared back down the hall towards his room. Dean watched him leave. Once he was gone he stared at the direction his brother had been. He was suddenly reminded of the night after they had taken out a parasite known as a pishtaco, he had tried to make Sam understand his reasonings for allowing an angel inside of him in order to save his life. Sam only threw it back in his face, saying he just didn't want to be alone, he saved Sam for himself. Dean had tried another approach.

"If the situation were reversed and I was dying, you'd do the same thing." Dean's eyes hadn't left Sam's as he spoke, trying to drive home how serious this was.

"No, Dean, I wouldn't." Sam had responded his gaze anywhere but on his brother. "Same circumstances, I wouldn't." With that Sam had shrugged and rolled his eyes up to meet Dean's.

In that moment and even now a week later, Dean had wished more than ever that Bobby Singer was still alive. Well he always did, but he was fresh in his thoughts. He could remember when Sam had gone off the deep end with demon blood and ran off with the demon Ruby and how Dean had come to a point where he was done. He hadn't wanted to deal with Sam, there hadn't been any reason to. His little brother clearly hadn't cared what he thought, he was going to do whatever it was he was going to do. Ruby 's opinion had mattered more than his. In the moment, Dean had seen red. Sam didn't want his help, fine, fuck him. But Bobby hadn't allowed Dean to throw in the towel. He reminded Dean that family was a pain in the ass, but they were still family. Bobby 's words had connected with Dean and he realized he could never abandon Sam, no matter how angry or hurt he had been. They were still family. If Bobby was still around he certainly would have given Sam the same talk. But Bobby wasn't around and Sam didn't see it like that, not anymore. Dean wasn't his brother, in his eyes, he was merely a partner.

He jolted slightly as he snapped back to the present. The older brother downed the rest of his whiskey and then got up from the computer to go pack himself.

About an hour and twenty minutes later, the boys had packed up the Impala, checked their supplies, and were on the road. Colorado was a good ten hours at least from Kansas, maybe eight or nine with how Dean was known to drive. The plan was to drive all the way through with only bathroom breaks and the occasional stop to stretch out their legs. The Impala wasn't exactly comfortable for Sam to sit in for endless hours, not with those Daddy Long Leg-esque legs of his. But the stops had already been considerably fewer and they had already put a good four hours plus behind them.

Normally the brothers would pass their time chatting about the case or bantering about some unimportant topic, but this ride up until this point, had been filled only with tense awkward silence. Dean sat behind the wheel staring out the front window, his attention fixed on the road ahead of him. Sam sat shotgun with a road map all sprawled out on his lap. His head was bowed and his eyes followed his finger as he traced the freeway they were on and then the streets they were suppose to go down once they were in town. His concentration was interrupted by the sound of AC/DC blasting out of the car stereo. Sam jumped slightly then threw Dean an exasperated look as he jabbed his index finger at the off button.

The older Winchester shot an equally as vexed glance and turned the music back on. Sam huffed shooting Dean one of his infamous bitchfaces.

"Do you mind Dean? I'm trying to map out our route to the park," Sam said raising his voice so that he could be heard over the band.

"I'm bored. Besides, it's not like we haven't done this stretch a few times, we don't need the map until we roll closer to town. We still have almost six hours to go," Dean responded matching Sam's voice level. The younger brother reached over and turned off the stereo again.

"Maybe you don't care, but I at least like to know where I'm going," Sam countered.

"Then have at it, but the music stays on. Why don't you just tune it out? You don't seem to have a problem doing it to me," Dean retorted not bothering to hide the ice in his voice.

"Cute," Sam shot back. His brother responded with a quick mock grin in his direction then he reached over, turned the music back on and this time he turned up the volume and began to sing along loudly. Sam rolled his eyes and threw his head back on the headrest with a heavy sigh. Dean didn't even have to look at his brother to know that he was weighing the pros and the cons of throwing open the passenger side door and tucking and rolling out of the Impala of which was going easily 85 miles per hour. The cons must have won. He bunched up the map, crammed it back into the glove department and then turned to face the passenger side window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched tight. It was going to be a long ride to Colorado.