A/n: Wow guys thank you so much for following "Because You're My Brother." I'm very aappreciative to all of you :-) I had been hoping to get this out sooner, but it got deleted and I had to start over.

I would like to give a special thank you to LilyBolt for your constant ssupport and friendship as well as miXiZ for support, friendship, help, and idea to begin with. I would also like to thank you to Guest, DearHart, and anyone else who takes time to review.

Ch 2

By the time the Impala rolled into Walden, stars freckled the sky and Dean decided that it was too late to talk to anyone and it certainly wasn't a smart idea to trump through unsafe woods at this hour. He pulled the Chevy into the parking lot of a hole in the wall motel a couple miles from the State park. Sam sprung from the passenger side and made his way into the lobby, slamming the car door behind him. Dean glared after his brother, running an apologetic hand on his Baby, then followed. The lobby was simple. Off white walls, grey carpet, a little rack with brochures off to the right, and a counter in the center. There wasn't much space behind the counter, in fact it was more like a stall then anything else. On the walls there were pictures of various wildlife hanging in wooden frames throughout the small room.

A man who was easily in his mid 50s gave the boys a warm smile as they entered. He pushed his coke bottle glasses back on the bridge of nose with a shaky bony finger.

"Well hello gentleman, what can I do you for?" He asked.

"Three nights two rooms please," Sam responded with a polite grin. Behind him Dean gave a small nod and looked down at the floor. The brothers had always shared a room since as long as they could remember. It just always made sense, two brothers two beds. There had never been a need to not share.

"You want conjoined rooms?" The man asked looking from one Winchester to the other.

"That's not necessary," Sam answered.

"Well, looks like I don't have any left. Here's your keys, room #104 and #113," the man handed one to Sam, the other to Dean. Sam handed him one of his fake credit cards and paid for the rooms. The man behind the counter went on to inform the brothers of the continental breakfast they offered and the times it was available to and from. The Winchesters thanked him and headed back to the car to collect their belongings. They both checked for any nearby witnesses and when there was no one, Dean opened up the trunk. Sam snatched up his computer bag and backpack slinging them both over his shoulder while Dean retrieved his own bag, closed the trunk,and secured the Impala.

"So," he spoke up. It had been the first time either brother had addressed the other since the argument in the car "I was thinking we find the nearest bar and get some grub and some brews." His eyes searched Sam's, looking for a response.

"It's been a long drive, I'm just going to call it a night." Without another word, Sam stalked off towards the motel. Dean watched him until he turned up the stairs and out of sight. Sam had been right about one thing, it had been a long drive and brother or no brother, he was going to get a drink.

Dean adjusted his bag onto his shoulder and walked off to find his room.

The room was basic. There were two wooden queen size beds with what Dean imagined were less than comfortable mattresses, definitely not the memory foam ones they had back at the bunker. A wooden nightstand stood between the beds with a simple wall lamp above it, a wooden dresser was up against the wall the beds, a small flat screen tv resting on top of it, and black mini fridge was next to it. To his right was a little wooden table with two wooden chairs. Dean couldn't help but think that that was where Sam would have set up shop with his laptop and more than likely, that was what he was really doing. The thin layer of fabric the place called a carpet was a dark taupe color with various stains Dean chose to not think about. The walls were painted a metallic forest green and yet more pictures of wildlife in yet more wooden frames hung on the walls. The bathroom couldn't have been any smaller, it consisted of a toilet, sink with a mirror above it, shower/tub, and metal rack which hung above the toilet with clean folded white towels and washcloths. A tiny bottle of shampoo accompanied by conditioner and two little packages of soap sat on the sink. Dean tossed his bag onto the bed that would have been Sam's, then set out to find the nearest bar.

He had only been driving for ten minutes before he came across one. Dean pulled into the closest open spot and made his way in. The place was packed, and small. Sound carried as if he was sitting in a tube, laughter bounced off the wall reverberating in Dean's skull. The inaudible chatter of multiple conversations was enough to make his head spin. However, the call of alcohol had been stronger than any voice in the establishment and he found himself a spot at the bar counter. He slid onto the empty backless leather barstool and examined the numerous bottles of assorted alcohol in front of him. The bartender, a woman only a few years older than Dean, noticed him and roamed over.

"Haven't seen your face around here before," she said with a warm smile. Dean laughed.

"I'll take it you know some of these people," Dean gathered taking a quick glance at the massive amount of customers.

"See these folks every Friday night," she responded with a sharp nod.

"And you remember all their faces?" Dean asked not sure where to be impressed or creeped out.

"Well, I wouldn't forget a pretty face," she said. Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink and Dean bit his lower lip as he nodded. It wasn't the first time he had been told that. "Name's Mary," she introduced flipping her short dark hair out of her eyes.

"Dean."

"So Dean, what can I get you?"

"You're strongest whiskey," he said. Mary had noticed the hint of excitement in his voice as he put in his order, it had reminded her of her youngest son when he would order ice cream. She gave him a curious sad look then turned to fix his drink. She returned with a glass and the bottle.

"So Dean, where you from?" She asked as she poured his whiskey.

"Kansas," he said simply watching the alcohol fall into the glass.

"A Kansas boy huh?"

"Yes ma'am," he smiled causing her to quickly pretend she was checking for any customers who needed her attention as her heart fluttered.

"Well, what brings you to our little town in Colorado?" She asked crossing her arms and leaning on the counter. Dean picked up his glass and stared at it as though it had the answer inside.

"Road trip."

"Alone?"

"No, well, not really. I'm road tripping with my brother," Dean tossed back his drink, warmth slid down his throat, burning as it went. He slammed down the empty glass with a satisfied sound. "You mind pouring me another?" Mary picked up the bottle and poured.

"Where's he?" She asked setting the bottle down and searching the crowd for another unfamiliar face, probably also a looker.

"Sleeping apparently," Dean said coldly. He downed his second glass and tapped it at the bartender. Mary gave Dean a concerned glance, but obliged. Something told her that this brother may be the source of this man's late night drinking session.

"So what are you here to see exactly? You on a bar crawl?" Dean laughed causing Mary once again have to avert her eyes.

"No nothing like that. We're actually going to hit up the State Park tomorrow." A shadow fell over Mary's face.

"You just be careful out there," she said, pouring Dean another glass of whiskey noticing it had been empty. She made a mental note to not pour the man anymore for night. Water only.

"What doya mean?" He tilted his head with a puzzled look on his face. She leaned in closer so he could really hear her over all the absent yammering.

"People have been disappearing round there. No bodies no blood, just missing," she informed. Dean nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Thanks for your concern."

"It doesn't stop there," she said louder now as she unravelled her arms and pushed herself off of the counter. "I'm cutting you off for the night. Water or nothing," the shadow had passed and she gave him a playful grin. Dean laughed and turned his head away. He was still good to drive back, at least he was by his standards, but he didn't argue.

"Fair enough." She had a feeling he would have polished off that entire bottle alone if she would have let him. He moved to pull his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, but Mary placed a hand on his arm. His green eyes met her eyes and her face turned red.

"I gotcha covered handsome," she said. Dean tilted his head in appreciation, pulled out a ten, placed it on the counter by his empty glass and slid off the barstool. Mary watched him as he swayed slightly out the door.

XXX

Sam hadn't completely lied, he was tired and it had been a long drive, but he wasn't quite ready for bed. He pulled out his laptop and fired it up. He quickly got to work checking out local news varying from articles to "reward if found" blogs. The victims were different races, genders and ages. Nothing in common but having last been seen at the State Park. If Sam was being honest, he was still not sold on this being their kind of case. Ok sure people were going missing and someone had to figure it out, but he didn't think it was a job for them. The likeliness that Dean had seen "numerous missing people," and immediately saw it as a case, was much higher then it actually being one. All kinds of things happened to people in the wild: animal attacks, hidden ditches, faulty ground, other people, falling trees...the possibilities were just about endless. Especially when you didn't have clue one about nature. Sam searched the web for what had to have been hours before he pushed back from the screen with a frustrated sigh, rubbing his face vigorously. Nothing told or hinted at him that anything supernatural was at play here. He raked his long fingers through his hair and huffed. Sam shut down his computer and unzipped his backpack. He pulled out his night attire and continued to dig until he found the homemade blow torch he had slipped into his bag earlier. Digging a bit deeper, he found the spare lighter he had packed. He gave a pleased nod then placed it all back in his backpack and zipped it up. Once he had striped himself of his day clothes, threw on his sweatpants and T shirt, and brushed his teeth, Sam crawled into bed and turned off the light next to his bed submerging the room into darkness. He laid on his back staring up into the dark until sleep finally took him.

XXX

Dean woke up the next morning to find himself half off the bed and his day clothes still on. He groaned as he pushed himself up into sitting position. He sat like that for a few minutes, allowing the light headed feeling to decrease. He reached over to check his phone and found there were no messages and no voicemails. No real shock there. He scrubbed his face and dragged himself off to the bathroom to get his day started. By the time Dean was showered, teeth were brushed, new cleanish clothes were on and he was ready to go, it was a quarter to ten. Sam still hadn't called so Dean scrolled down on his phone until his brother's name was highlighted and pressed enter. The line rang a few times before his voicemail picked up.

"Hey, it's me. I'm gonna hit the road so, y'know, if you're tagging along, chop chop." Dean pressed end and pocketed it. He grabbed the keys to the Impala and the room card and then headed off. He contemplated trying Sam again and again and again until his stubborn little brother was so annoyed that he would answer, but he decided against it. Instead of harassing him via phone, he decided to make personal appearance. He stopped short when he came to room #104 and knocked loudly. "Sam!" He called out resting his head on the door. He was by no means drunk, but he did have a nagging headache that was throbbing in the back of his head. When Sam didn't answer he knocked louder "Sam!" He waited for a few seconds then pounded one last time, maybe he was in the shower. When Sam still didn't answer, Dean slammed a frustrated fist on the door then marched off to the Impala. He checked for people, then opened her up, grabbed his lock picking kit, closed the trunk, and stomped back up to Sam's room. If his brother was sitting at his laptop ignoring his calls and knocks, he was going to lose the last of his patience. Dean took a quick pan of the area and once the he was clear, he picked his way into the room. It looked identical to his. His eyes scanned the area, had he not noticed the laptop bag on one of the chairs, he would have thought he had the wrong room. "Sammy?" Dean called out again, his eyes darted from one side of the room to the next. He walked over to inspect the bathroom. Only Sam's toiletries were there and a towel thrown over the edge of the tub. Dean's heart began to pound. It was too late for the continental breakfast and the Impala had still been in the lot. There where no signs of a forced entry or a struggle. Sam was just gone.