Disclaimer:Supernatural, it's characters and concepts belong to their rightful owner/creator. I make no profit from this. Lyrics are from Robert Plant's song "Big Log"

Warnings:Swearing, violence, angst.

Author's Note: Hey all. This is the sequel to my other fic, the Strange Face of Love. I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the other, and let me know your thoughts/opinions/ideas. Enjoy!

Prologue

My love is in league with the freeway
Its passion will ride, as the cities fly by
And the tail-lights dissolve, in the coming of night
And the questions in thousands take flight

- -

"This is fucking bullshit," Sam muttered under his breath as he scrambled gracelessly over yet another fallen log. Mid afternoon sunlight shone through the dense foliage, falling briefly across Dean's figure in front of him before his older brother sauntered into the shadows once more. Sam watched from his perch on top of the log for a moment as Dean shifted his duffle a little higher over his shoulder.

Shaking his head, he jumped down and followed him, trying to resist the urge to grumble some more about the whole stupid situation.

"Stop your whining bitch," Dean called over his shoulder, entirely too cheerful and not seeming to mind the latest unbelievable stunt their father had pulled. "Maybe if you shut your flapping lips for awhile we might actually cover some distance before nightfall.

"Why should I?" Sam asked Dean's back petulantly. "Maybe if dad wasn't such an ass I wouldn't have anything to bitch about."

"Now we all know that's a lie," Dean turned around, walking backwards and grinning at him. "Even if we weren't doing this, you'd still be whining about the man. Face it Sam, you have the emotional maturity of a teenage girl, and more estrogen to boot."

"Me? You're talking to me about emotional maturity?" Sam asked incredulously. "You're hornier than most fourteen year our guys! You're the one who me and dad caught with that skank in the back seat not two days ago..."

"Semantics," Dean waved a hand, turning back around and ducking a low hanging branch. "Will you walk faster grandpa? At this rate we'll never catch up with them before the weeks out."

"This is bullshit," Sam repeated, catching up to Dean so they were walking side by side. "I have assignments that I need to finish and he throws us out here without so much as a by your leave!"

"Yeah Yeah, I get it. You're so hard done by, all the other geeks in your year will surpass you and you'll only get an average grade, I know. "Dean sighed.

"I'm serious, Dean..."

"I know you are. And I get it. So the sooner we get this little training exercise of theirs out of the way, the sooner you can get back to your precious books."

Sam felt a twinge of guilt at the resignation he heard in Dean's voice. He loved spending time with Dean, even if they weren't always doing the things he would have chosen. But this ridiculous facade of their dads and Bobby's was on an entirely different level to his usual stuff.

Who actually took their children out into the middle of nowhere, thrust a bag of weapons at them, and told them to get going? The aim of it, he'd explained tersely, was to practice their survival skills. Using their knowledge, they had to navigate their way to the designated meeting point within two days.

Seriously, the whole thing was all kinds of crazy. Sam had been outraged. Furious, fuming and gob smacked at the audacity of the man. Granted, things were rocky between himself and his father, but he hadn't expected anything of the sort from him.

And Dean. Dean, the little shit, just took it in his stride as if it didn't even faze him. He didn't even seem bothered in the slightest, and Sam had to admit that he was more than a little baffled.

"What's got your panties in a twist anyway, Samantha?" Dean asked conversationally, even as his eyes scanned their dense surroundings sharply.

"You mean this whole, "survival skills" shit doesn't bother you? Not one word of warning, nothing? Didn't you have plans this weekend too?"

"It doesn't bother me. Amy can wait until I get back. She won't be going anywhere," he smirked at him, his hazel eyes bright with humor.

Sam rolled his eyes and had to push aside his amusement at his brother. The guy was an the worst kind of optimist when he wanted to be, never giving an inch nor backing down, even when Sam was in the blackest of moods. Still, despite the hours of entertainment he often provided, showing that he could brighten Sam's mood would only go to his head and inflate his already swollen ego some more.

"Seriously, do you ever think with your upstairs brain? Ever? Just once, I'd like to have a conversation with you that doesn't involve the sex or girls."

"Ah Sammy," Dean threw an arm around his shoulders. "Who else do you have to teach you all this worldly knowledge?"

"Worldly knowledge? You?" Sam scoffed. "And it's Sam."

"Now now, Sammy. Is that anyway to talk to your older, more experienced brother?"

"Oh lord. Here we go," Sam muttered under his breath, trying his best to resist rolling his eyes again.

"I vow to you, Samantha, that by the time you turn eighteen your cherry is gonna be popped. I will find you a nice, hot girl who can screw your brains out and release all that pent up tension you're carrying around." Dean grinned.

"Dean, how many times do I have to tell you..."

"I won't hear any excuses Sammy. It is absolutely unacceptable that a Winchester male is still a virgin at eighteen. What would dad say if he knew? I, myself, am ashamed to even have to think about it," Dean shook his head dramatically.

Sam glared at him. "That's...too disturbing Dean. Even for you. I only just turned seventeen not a week ago. Besides, as if Dad would care. His head shoved so far up his ass that he can't even tell that the sky is blue and the grass is green."

It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes, and he swung the duffle off his shoulder and into Sam's chest.

"Your turn to carry the luggage bucko. I'm going on ahead so try and keep up. I don't want to have to come after your sorry ass Gigantor."

"Dean..."

"Come onSamantha. We haven't got all day."

Sam shook his head, exasperated once more at Dean's unwillingness to even talk about anything to do with their father for even five minutes. He was an expert at diversionary tactics, a fact that their father had taken advantage of many times before but was a source of constant frustration to everyone else. Sam knew his brother better than anyone else ever could, and he had always admired and the person he was. He was strong, smarter than the average person, a genius when it came to fighting and weapons, brave and fearless in the face of adversity, but also understanding and gentle when the need arose. He loved fiercely, and protected what was his even if it beat him down to his last breath.

Having said that, he was also stubbornly infuriating, a prankster to the worse extent, a distraction that would never leave off and he could be amazingly dense for one so intelligent. He followed their father's orders to the letter but would rebel fiercely against anyone else's. He was hell on wheels, a ladies man and a devil in his own right.

But he was still fairly easy to figure out, despite all the ways he resembled John Winchester. Sam had never had much trouble when it came to figuring Dean.

It was their father that he couldn't suss out, and while that frustrated the hell out of him, a part of him didn't want to know what he was all about. The possibility that he wouldn't like what he found was all too real for him. The rift that had grown between them hadn't closed any after the Wraith incident, in spite of their tentative reconciliation at the roadside that day several years ago.

Sam couldn't deny that he had changed since then. He often felt like he was spiraling out of control, as if everything around him didn't make sense and comprehension was just beyond his grasp. It was a feeling that filled him with dread as it brought back dark memories of when he had been under the control of the Wraith. Sometimes he felt as if he was sitting behind a glass window and watching his life pass him by, powerless to make any changes.

If there was one thing he hated more than anything, it was feeling helpless. Dean often called him a control freak, and Sam wouldn't ever deny that because he knew it was true. The fact that he hated being unable to control what was happening around him was probably another reason why he resented being uprooted all the time by his father to move on to yet another hunt and new places to live. He needed a stability that wasn't available in the life they lived and it just gave him another reason to resent the man.

Sam had always felt like he was missing a piece of himself after the wraith was gone. It was an emptiness that couldn't ever be filled by anyone or anything, and sometimes it ached so badly that he thought he would splinter apart and fall to pieces at the slightest provocation.

Dean had always been able to sense when Sam was losing himself, and somehow he always knew what to say or do to make the ache recede just enough to make it bearable. The whole incident had drawn them closer together, which was something that he had never thought possible. He was grateful that something good had come out of his near death experience all those years ago.

There was something strange about surviving something that should have killed you. At first he had been so lost, unsure how to move on or what to do with himself. But life had continued on as it always had, with his dad leading them back and forth across the country, and Dean and Sam following along. In a way, the normality of it all had helped to ground him, even as he grew more and more at odds with his dad.

He supposed it was inevitable really, Sam thought as he walked slightly behind Dean concentrating on where he was putting his feet. His dad had been so willing to leave him behind, to walk away without looking back, and that kind of thing left scars that weren't easily healed. He hated him for that, and yet he couldn't deny that he still loved him despite all that had happened.

It had taken it's toll on Dean too. It had miraculously opened his eyes and he had visibly matured, seeming to realize that anything could happen at any moment and that they could easily be separated in the dangerous world they walked. He had stopped doing everything he could to provoke Sam into arguments all the time, though Sam welcomed that particular distraction at times.

Still, while he was frustrated with this particular stunt, he had to admit that it was good to get away from their dad for awhile and spend some time with Dean. Sure, he loved the man, but being around him could be incredibly oppressive at the best of times. Not to mention the explosive argument that had erupted when Sam had found out what their dad had planned. Dean and Bobby played the mediator, as usual, and things had gotten underway just like John had planned.

Sam felt that helpless rage batter him from within. It didn't matter how much he raged or fought, he never seemed to gain any ground with his dad. In fact, John Winchester had become even more driven during the last few years and it hadn't helped Sam any.

At times the strength and depth of his anger and resentment frightened him. He had no control over his emotions anymore, and that frightened him more than just about anything else did.

"Am I going to have to carry you the rest of the way Samantha?" Dean's voice broke into his jumbled thoughts and brought him abruptly back to reality.

"What? I'm keeping up," Sam replied, stumbling a little over a concealed branch.

"Well if you'd like to wake up and give your input into just how we're going to get out of this stinking forest, I'd appreciate the help."

"You mean the guy who always brags about how freaking amazing he is with a map and a compass actually needs help?"

"Gimme a break, Sam-o. I just don't want you to fall behind. After all, it's not like most people can keep up with the great Dean Winchester," Dean grinned at him over his shoulder. "I'm doing you a favor, after all."

Sam rolled his eyes again and quickened his pace.

"Of course. How kind of you."

"It's what I do, Sammy."

.TBC