Hello everyone! I was on a bit of a hiatus on this story but I have found my mojo again and a plan that includes angst-o-plenty for our boys! I hope that any who have a look will enjoy. Thanks for reading and please, comments would be a lovely surprise! :)

The brothers head to the Impala without a word. Sam reluctantly slides into the passenger seat and scrutinizes his brother when he sees him squeeze his eyes shut followed by a wince of pain that dances across his face. This is a really, really bad idea. Sam can't shake the feeling that Paradise is a town they should just leave alone. That is isn't worth investigating. But, looking again towards his brother Sam sees that the wall has been put back up, the pain he saw a moment ago completely absorbed by the all so familiar Dean Winchester mask of denial. Sam accepts that the two brothers will be heading to that town. Now. But, he decides he has to try one more time to get his brother out of this idea.

"Dean, are you sure you are okay to drive? I know that your head is killing you and don't try to deny it, I can see it." Sam watches his brother turn to him with his usual gaze of dead set determination. Before he has a chance to start an argument Sam just raises his hands. "Okay, okay, whatever. Just promise me you will pull over and wake me up if you need a break. Okay? Dean?"

"Yeah yeah Sammy. Sheesh, melodramatic much? I'm fine so let's stop with the mother hen routine and get out of here. Ready?" Dean sees the nod and starts up his baby. He just needs to keep moving along, heading off to the next case. He needs to concentrate on something else. Something other than Hell. And yes, his head hurts but he can still drive. He promises himself he will pull over if he has to. He may be stubborn but he isn't going to risk Sammy's life just because he is having issues. He won't put Sam in danger. For anything.

Sam tries. He does. He is so bloody tired. He wants to sleep. He needs to rest. But he can't. He worries about his brother, about the fact that his older sibling has hardly slept in days. About the fact that he has a gash on his head that must be hurting like a son of a bitch. About the fact that Dean can not yet bring himself to talk about his experience in Hell. He closes his eyes, tries to lull himself to slumber as he listens to the roar of the Impala's engine and the sound of tires upon pavement. He isn't sure if he actually did drift off but he is pulled from his moment of peace by a soft groan as it escapes from Dean. He pries an eye, or two, open and looks to the direction of the sound. Dean is there. Right hand on the wheel, knuckles a very unnatural shade of white. His left hand grips onto his head and Sam sees he is trying to massage his temple in an obvious attempt to thwart the pain that has built up inside. Okay, Dean is done in that driver's seat. Now.

"Time to switch Dean. You need to rest your head. And your eyes. C'mon bro, pull over and let me drive." Sam feels a tad perplexed and his worry quotient ups itself a notch or several when he sees and feels the car veer off to the side of the road. No fight. No complaint. No discussion. Dean just stops the car, puts it in park and goes to grab the handle of the door. Sam thinks he hears a colourful expletive or two as his brother slowly, too slowly, exits the vehicle and starts to move to the other side. Sam gets out quickly and meets up with his brother as he comes around the car. "Are you doing alright Dean?" Silence. "Dean? Let's get you inside and then I'll get you some pills. You need to take care of that monster headache that I am sure you are sporting right now. Okay man?" This time he is greeted with a nod and as Dean takes his new position in the car, Sam heads off in search of the duffel and the pain meds. He knows Dean must really be hurting to be this quiet. If there is one thing his big brother is not, it's quiet, and that is not a very comforting thought to the youngest Winchester.

Dean sits in the passenger seat and waits for Sammy to return. His brother is right. He is hurting in all kinds of ways right now. How did Sammy know that he was just contemplating pulling over like at almost the same exact time that Sammy urged him to do so? Dean scoffs at that. Man, they really must be spending too much time together, if they can sense each other's thoughts. Kinda creepy. Dean opens his eyes but quickly clenches them shut again to try and ward off the sudden explosion of pain and black spots on his vision that the action creates. Okay, so, eyes stay closed for the time being. Check. He hears Sam's soft voice beside him moments later. "Hey Dean. Still okay?" Dean doesn't want to talk so he settles for giving his brother another nod instead. The throbbing in his head is increasing and he just wants to medicate himself. From the pain. Physical and mental. "Dean? Here, take these, they will help that hard head of yours." Dean cracks his eyes open to a slit and looks at the offered pills in Sam's hand. He grabs them shakily and pops them in his mouth. He takes a swig of water and thinks that a shot of whiskey or a whole bottle would be much better in this situation. The pills, they would work faster then. Dean hears a sigh from beside him and concludes that he must not of kept that last comment on the inside, he must have used his outside voice. Oops, let the lecture begin. "Um, sorry dude, no whiskey for you. Not with the pills." Pause. "Okay, just relax and try to sleep."

Sam leaves his brother's side and gets behind the wheel. He just doesn't know what to do to help. Dean is so stubborn and so willing to keep all his emotions bottled up inside. Sam really gets frustrated, he knows Dean doesn't want to be a burden to him. Doesn't want to make Sam suffer in any way. But, God, Dean will implode, and soon, if he doesn't stop his experiences from consuming him. Sam sighs. He knows Dean is in pain and is thankful that at the very least his brother may be able to get some sleep. But, Sam also feels a bit disturbed about his brother's increasing dependence on alcohol. He didn't want to press the topic right now but they will need to talk about it. He has seen Dean drink himself into a stupor before. When a hunt goes badly, when they get there too late and an innocent pays with their life. Sam doesn't blame him for wanting to escape from reality in those circumstances. Hell, Sam has done that a time or two as well. But, ever since Dean has returned, his drinking is a constant. Sure, maybe he doesn't get falling down drunk every day but he does need to drink every single day. He thinks that Sam doesn't know, that he is oblivious to all his secret stashes. In his duffel. In the car. In the motel rooms. Under the bed. But Sam does know and at some point they are going to have one hell of an argument about it. But now right now, right now the older brother needs to sleep. Needs to rest.

Dean leans back on the seat. He listens to the hum of his baby and begins to feel the pills work their magic on his physical pain. His body starts to relax as the stab of pain in his head starts to numb, starts to fade into the background. He doesn't know why but the next emotion he feels is one of fear. Why would he be afraid? He's safe. He's in his car. He's on the road. With Sammy. As he begins to feel the pull of sleep, the pills working to shut his body down from wakefulness into slumber his panic starts to rise. No! Now he knows the reason for his fear. He can't. He can't live through it again. He has to stay awake, he can't let sleep take him. He doesn't want to go back. Not to Hell. No. NO! He yells at himself, willing his body to wake up, for him to open his eyes and leave the memories buried deep. He opens his eyes and immediately knows he is not awake. He is in a dream. He tells himself over and over again it is just a dream. That it is not real. That he is not in Hell anymore. But, as he stares into the pit. Into Hell itself. As he sees tortured soul after tortured soul looking at him with accusing eyes and hateful sneers, the faint grasp he had on reality is erased in an instant and he is sucked into the very heart of despair. Into the abyss. Into his own personal Hell.

TBC...