Disclaimer: I don't own them.

A/N:

Two weeks before Deans time is up, he's getting ill and Sam brings him to the Roadhouse. There's still no plan to save Dean, but then a few people from their past come back into their lives. Are they able to help?

Contains Dean/Jo, later also Sam/Sarah, so if you don't like that, don't read it.

That there're no bullets for the colt will make sense later.

The Roadhouse never burned down in my story.

English is not my native langue, this story was worked with spell checking program, if there're still mistakes they are mine.

Reviews are always very welcome.

1.

Dean Winchester blinked, where the hell was he and how did he got here? He felt strange, not hurt or something, there were no wounds or even broken bones he could feel. He felt a little bit sick though, like he was getting a cold or something. He hadn't drunk; he was pretty sure about that. That wasn't the usual, 'get-pissed-and-wake-up-next-to-what-was-her-name-again-never-mind-a-hot-chick' moment, which happened once in a while and, more often lately to be honest. But who could blame him, he had, what, two weeks to live.

Dean let his eyes wander and found that he was in a very, very strange place. It was a small room, with a huge window. The sun was shining outside… He was lying in a single bed, covered with a pink blanket. Dean turned to his left side and saw an old and one eyed teddy bear sitting on the nightstand…

Dean Winchester gulped; he was in hell two weeks before his time. That was the only way to explain this.

Then he heard voices. It sounded a lot like a catfight, but Dean couldn't make out words. Then there was silence again. Dean's eyes searched the room for his cell phone, or even his trousers, because he just then realized that he was dressed in nothing more than his boxers under that flamingo colored blanked.

"…don't make it worse,"said a voice somewhere, but still far away.

"Worse? I'll kill that bastard!"

Answered a voice much closer. It took Dean a moment to realize whose voice it was, but than he just gulped again and thought it would be the best to pretend to be sleeping… or even better dead.

The door opened and closed again with a bang and Dean couldn't help but flinch.

"What the hell where you thinking, Arse!"

Dean tried not to move, in fact, he almost forgot to breathe as well.

"Stop playing games, I know you're awake.

Dean blinked carefully. There she was, right in front of him, angry like a mama grizzly bear. He was almost relieved that she wasn't pointing a gun on him.

"It's nice to see you, too, Jo."

She was just starring at him, and he felt like a rabbit focused by a rattlesnake. It was the silence before the storm, he knew it. Any moment Jo would explode. And, the sad thing was, he couldn't blame her. He'd never called, though he'd promised. He knew that Jo had a massive crush on him, but she was still a girl, tough but also with a kind of innocence a Dean Winchester shouldn't get the chance to play with. Being with him was simply not what a girl like she deserved. He preferred his women out of his mind the next morning. Sure, even he had dreams about a home, a family, a normal life, but he knew that would never be. It would be unfair to go on a hunt, with two little children and a wife waiting for him, and even if he could stop hunting, he'd seen what had happened to Jessica. He'd seen what had happened to Sam's dreams. Still, he'd thought about her, dreamed about her. But then the deal was made and Dean knew he wouldn't get the chance to be in a serious relationship anymore. And so he'd spend the last months having fun with almost every girl he could pick up.

"Jo listen, I wanted to call, but then…"

"Then you went and sold your soul," she interrupted him fiercely.

Dean felt his stomach drop, Sam had told her, or Ellen maybe.

"I had to save Sam," he answered calmly.

He waited for her to explode once again, but Jo simply stood there. Then he recognized something glittering on her cheeks.

"Come on, don't cry."

Jo shook her head, turned around and almost ran into Sam who'd just opened the door. She pushed past him and was gone. Sam looked after her, with a puzzled expression on his face then turned his attention towards his brother.

"What was that?"

But Dean also just shook his head. and looked away.

"Anyway, it's good to see you awake. You scared the hell out of me."

With hat Sam had his brother's attention back.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"We were on the road, talking about that werewolf we wanted to hunt and then, out of the blue, you collapsed. You almost send us into the trees," Sam said. Then a recognized the fear in his brothers eyes.

Sam sighed.

"The car is okay, it's you we're worried about."

"We?"

"We're at the Roadhouse; it was the nearest place to go. Bobby is coming, too."

Dean thought about it. The last thing he wanted was being trapped in a house with all his beloved ones when he had only two weeks to live. He had to get out of here as soon as possible. And maybe he should leave Sam behind. They hadn't a plan to get him out of the deal, yet. They had no idea what Bela did with the colt. And even if they would get their hands on that cold, they hadn't bullets for it. All thirteen had been used. He knew that Sam was working, searching, that he refused to give up hope, but Dean was sure that there was nothing to hope for. And the last thing he could stand would be two weeks full of chick flick moments.