Dean felt guilty right up until the moment Tina slid into the back seat of the Impala and moved in close. After that, his mind became … occupied, and he lost track of time. He only came back into himself when he heard the small tap, tap, tapping on the driver's side window.

"What the hell?" He broke the embrace and sat up. "Occupied!" he growled at whoever had the balls to come knockin' when the Impala was almost ready to start rockin'. "Move along, whoever the hell you are!"

"Dean," a small voice piped up. "It's me."

"What?" Dean wiped the steam off the window, "Sam?" He rolled the window down. Sure enough, there stood his kid brother, practically whipping in the wind, wearing nothing but his brown canvas jacket and jeans held together by holes. The bitter Minnesota wind buffeted the lanky kid like a signpost, and Dean could see that he was even too cold to shiver. He looked like he was two seconds away from collapsing to the ground and shattering into jagged pieces.

"Sammy? What the hell!" He reached up and unlocked the front door. "Get in!" He looked over at Tina and broke the bad news. "I'm gonna have to take a rain check, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

"What?" She wasn't happy.

"I gotta go. Sorry. Another time."

"This is bullshit!" She muttered as Sam slid into the front seat and parked his lanky frame in front of the heater. She smacked him on the shoulder, rudely. "Hey! You're blocking the heat, you little freak!"

Sam made a move to slide over, "Sorry." he apologized, dropping his head in embarrassment, but Dean's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Stay right there, Sammy." He ordered.

He looked at Tina, who had suddenly lost most of her charm. "Get out."

"What?"

"You heard me. I said get out. The bar's right there. Go."

"Well aren't you just a knight in shining armor?" She spat.

"Yeah, whatever you say." Dean opened the door and climbed out, sliding into the front seat beside his brother. "What the hell, Sammy? He asked again, grabbing his coat and wrapping it around his brother's shoulders. "Why are you here? How did you get here?"

"Dad sent me." Sam answered sleepily. "He needs the car. You weren't … answering your phone."

"What? He never called me." Dean pulled out his phone to find eight missed calls. "What the …?"

The giggle from the back seat clued him in, and he spun around in the seat. "You didn't ... did you turn off my phone?" He barked.

"Maybe," she tried to play coy.

"Out! Now! Go"

"Don't call me!" She spit out, slamming the door shut behind her. Dean watched until she flounced haughtily back inside the bar, then he returned his full attention to his brother.

"Did you walk here? Sam, it's five blocks, and it's gotta be a good ten below zero out." He cranked the heat up on high and adjusted the blowers so they all pointed to Sam.

Sam just nodded sleepily.

"Sam!" Dean grasped his brother's shoulders and shook him gently, slapping his cheek softly. "Sammy, stay with me, you hear?"

"I'm h-here, Dean."

Dean cursed."What the hell is wrong with Dad, sending you out in this?" He fumed. "You're sick, you got a fever, and now you're damn near hypothermic. Son of a bitch!" He threw the car into drive and pulled away from the curb. "We gotta get you back to the motel and into a hot bath, kiddo."

"Dad got a call ... about a h-hunt. Needs the c-car right away. You've been gone for hours, Dean."

"What? I couldn't have." Dean glanced at his watch to see nearly four hours had passed since he'd left the motel. "We only grabbed something to eat at the restaurant and then talked for a while." Dean tried to rationalize. "We only just moved the party outside about 10 minutes ago." He looked over at Sam. "Damn, I'm sorry Sammy. I left my phone on the table when I hit the head. She must have turned it off while I was gone."

"It's okay."

Dean pounded the steering wheel. "No, it's not. I made you a promise, kid. You and Dad both. And I messed up." Another thought hit him. "Did you take your next dose of medicine? You were due about a half hour ago?"

"Forgot. We were cleaning weapons."

"You've been cleaning weapons all this time?"

"Not all. Practiced some incantations and stuff." Sam sighed, falling silent, his head against the window.

"So Dad didn't let you rest any at all? Sam, it's nearly 1 am."

"...Tired now, Dean."

"No, wait, Sam. Don't fall asleep til we get you warmed up, okay? Just hang on. We're here now." Dean pulled up to the door of their motel room to the sight of the door whipping open and an irate John Winchester storming out.

"Where the hell have you been, Dean!" He began, but Dean cut him off, stepping out of the car and moving swiftly around to the passenger side to help Sam. "I lost track of the time. I'm sorry. Dad, how could you send Sam out walking in this cold?" He accused. "He all but froze to death."

John glanced down at his youngest as Dean helped drag him from the car. He saw that the boy was on his feet and his eyes were open, and that's all he needed to see. "You're exaggerating again, Dean." He sighed, tossing the weapons bag he toted into the back seat. "Sam's fine. And I had no way to get in touch with you. What happened to your phone, anyway?"

"Long story." Dean growled. "No more questions til I get Sam thawed out." He half-pulled, half-led his brother into the motel, slamming the door shut behind him with one foot.

"Come on, Sam." He muttered. "Into the bathroom. I'll get the tub running."

Dean heard the motel door open, but he didn't spare a glance as he leaned Sam against the sink and bent to turn the water on. He heard a sigh.

"Alright, listen boys." John began. "I got an emergency call about a possible ghoul about two hours up the road. I have to leave right now. You can hang out here til I get back. Shouldn't be more than a couple of days." John finished gathering up his things and stopped in the bathroom doorway. He looked them both over and smiled. "You got everything here, Dean?" He asked.

Dean was facing away from their dad when he rolled his eyes, but he said simply, "Yeah, I got this, Dad. You go do what you gotta do. Sammy and I will get along just fine."

"That's my boys." John answered, proudly. He bumped Sam gently on the shoulder with his fist. "I'll call when I have an update."

"Bye, Dad." Sam offered softly.

"Bye Sammy." He replied, waiting for a response from his oldest. When none was forthcoming, he sighed again and turned to go. "Take care of each other, and make sure you put down the salt lines after I leave. I left some cash on the nightstand."

"We will, Dad." Sam again.

"Later then." And he walked out and closed the door behind him. Moments later, they heard the rumble of the Impala roaring to life, but Dean was too preoccupied to care much.

"Here you go, Sammy. It's nice and warm." He eyed his brother leaning heavily against the sink. "You, uh ... you gonna need help getting in?"

Sam snorted. "No, Dean. I can undress myself, thanks." He smiled lazily.

"Well, okay then. Holler if you need anything, okay? I'll go heat you up some soup."

"Okay." Sam replied, moving toward the tub. "Hey Dean?" He stopped and turned to face his brother.

Dean stopped in the doorway and turned back, "Yeah Sammy?"

Sam hesitated, "Thanks." he said simply.

Dean was confused, "For what?"

Sam smiled as he bent down to turn the water off. "For giving a shit."

Dean swallowed hard, blinking back something that felt ridiculously too close to being a tear. "Get in the tub, bitch." he choked out.

Sam snorted, "Get outta my face first, Jerk."