In every town, city, and county of every state in the great continental USA, there was always several things Sam Winchester could count on. First, there would always be that bar. He never remembered names but they mostly looked the same-- hardwood tables, leatherette chairs, pub food, alcohol, classic rock music and some sort of card game or pool table. They always ended up in that kind of place like gravity. Though he must admit, some were more decent looking than others and tonight, they were in a pretty decent place. Good enough that the washroom was clean and well stocked with soap and tissue paper. Better yet, the place had wi- fi. For free.

So while he checked his email and scoured the interwebs for some interesting news, his brother Dean was doing the second thing that always happened like clockwork-- hustling money in a game. Tonight it was pool. Sam raised his head briefly to see how his brother was getting along with his new "friends". He wasn't surprised seeing his brother's opponent try to hide a frown while his entourage taunted the happy go lucky looking Winchester. A hefty looking pile of money, at least five hundred dollars Sam reckons, was sitting under a beer bottle waited for the winner after all. The eight- ball rolled easily from the one end to a side pocket. His brother shrugged sporting a coky grin as he collected his winnings and wisely declined the offer of a rematch "There's always tomorrow," he replied breezily, moving away from the pool table while counting the newly won cash on hand.

Sam leaned back on his chair watching Dean fan out the bills, grinning from ear to ear. "Not bad, I say, not bad at all," Dean said, taking his seat across the table. Sam merely looked away when his brother did the third thing he always expected to happen-- Dean raised his empty beer bottle at the youngest looking, not necessarily the nearest, waitress and winked.

And for his finale, number four-- "Sammy, did you remember to get me--"

"Pie?" Sam finished, shoving a plate of apple pie his way. He saw his brother's face light up in delight as he picked up his fork ready to dig in. Sometimes, it was hard for Sam to think that this scamming, easily distracted, easily pleased man was four years his senior let alone his older brother. His lips curved upward when Dean's eyes grew wide after taking a piece of pie.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Nothing."

"It's really good pie."

Sam smirked. "I'm sure it is."

"Then what's with the face?"

"What face?" Sam asked, even more amused than ever. After all, after everything that's happened, lighter times like these were few and far between. Now that he's just single handedly jump started the apocalypse and placed them both in the precarious position of being in between and God's Angel Army and Satan's Demon Horde, awkward silences and unsaid conversations were more their thing now. Simple banter like this-- he'll take his chances where he could.

His chance was, as usual, shortlived.

The beefy man Dean had just played and his friend surrounded their table. Sam tried to ignore them turning to his laptop for solace. By the side of his eye, he could see Dean concentrate on his pie. The sore loser cleared his throat. "One more round," he demanded.

"Didn't see you there buddy," Dean replied cooly, "I tell you what though. You should try some of this pie."

"Come on dude," said one of his friends. "Just play him another game. Give him a chance to get his money back," he reasoned.

"You owe me another game, friend," the sore loser said impatiently.

"I don't owe you anything, pal," Dean replied rising from his seat standing mere inches away from the bigger man.

Sam winced. His brother only stood until the guy's shoulder and was obviously smaller built. He was also outnumbered five to one. Yet, the only thought that went through Sam's mind was to save his laptop from the trouble that may ensue after they size each other up. He highly doubted he had to back his brother up with these odds. It was no contest.

"Hey!" A sharp call from the bar interrupted the tension building in the air. Sam turned to see a girl , just about his age, sitting on a barstool, shaking her head in disapproval. She ran her hand through her long black hair and swept her bangs to one side.

"Summer, don't," her friend beside her urged.

"If you guys want to end up in the E.R. And hang out with all those children falling sick, be my guest," she continued. She gave them a humourless smile before leaving money on the table and giving her friend a quick goodbye.

The warning worked. There were a few annoyed grumbles but the gang reluctantly moved away. "Ain't going near them kids," one said reaching out for his bottle. Sam eyed the man taking the earlier discarded bar stool.

"Must be that swine flu thing they keep talking about in the news," another quipped.

The girl beside him sighed and signalled the bartender for the bill. "Sorry, we're just kind of passing by but.... The children are falling sick?" Sam asked curiously.

The blonde nodded her head gravely. "Yup," she replied sadly.

"What do the doctors say?" He inquired.

The girl shrugged. "African sleeping sickness, encephalitis, vitamin deficiency, fatigue... they all just lie there. Like the energizer bunny left the building." she answered shaking her head. " All I know is the doctors-- they don't know what it is. Which makes my work just that much harder. Can you imagine having one doctor tell you to administer antibiotics then a second later, change the diagnosis? If I just worked under Sum then it'll be easy because she's the only one who seems to know what she's doing. But no. I just got off four back to back shifts like that. It's hell," she complained.

"So you're a nurse," Dean guessed taking the other seat beside her. "I like nurses," he said sticking out his hand with a lopsided grin on his face, "Dean. That's my younger brother Sam. And may I say, it sounds like those doctors don't know squat if they treat a girl like you like that."

"Can't really blame them," the girl replied. "Summer did the labs of her patients herself. Everything was clean."

Sam met Dean's concerned gaze. "Clean?" he repeated.

"As in all fifteen kids have normal levels of everything," she explained hopping down the stool. "Look, I could get in real trouble discussing this outside the hospital so best keep it to yourselves." She gave them a small wave before heading out the door. "Oh by the way," she stopped just as she pulled the door open, "hope you enjoy your stay here," she said.

"You bet we will," Dean replied giving the girl a small salute.

Sam frowned. Number five just happened. Everywhere and anywhere they went, they always seem to be able to run into some trouble.