A/N: As promised here's another chapter. This one is the set up for the hunt, revealing information and ramping up some nervous angst. Hope you all enjoy! Also thanks to everyone who's reviewed and added this one to their faves in one form or another!

Any mistakes in place names or travel time are all mine due to minimum research done. I was saving the endless net surfing for vague facts for when I really needed it over the next couple chapters. Enjoy chapter 3!

Chapter 3

"Welcome to Kentucky." Sam read aloud, relieved to see that sign. The moon was touching the horizon on its downward course and Sam was beat. Dean stirred on the seat next to him and opened his eyes.

"You say somethin'?"

"We're in Kentucky."

"Good. Maybe we'll get real beds for a couple hours and then some chow." Dean looked back out the windshield to see his dad's signal blink on. He was pulling into a rundown motel. He got out and Sam and Dean followed suit, staying by the car to stretch their legs. John returned a few minutes later with keys to a room. He walked up to his boys.

"Here boys. Get a few hours sleep and then we'll eat and hit the road again." He handed them one room key and kept one for himself. They got some of their gear and headed for the room, both pulling off their shoes and flopping onto their backs on the bed. Sam and Dean were soon asleep while John sat at the small table in the room and opened up the folder that held his research. He turned on the 9 a.m. news and kept the volume muted to let his boys rest. He had been looking over his papers quietly when he glanced up as one of his boys moved. It was Sammy. He turned his head and lifted a knee, keeping it slightly bent as he remained asleep. Dean moved then, turning to face his brother just a couple feet away from him, and John knew he was subconsciously comforting his restless brother. John cast a quick glance at the TV to see the screen light up reading Breaking News and then the picture changed from that to a picture taken outside of a cave. The tag at the bottom of the screen read Everett, Washington. "Damnit." John cursed and turned up the volume as the television showed two paramedics bringing a stretcher out of the cave with a long black body bag strapped down to it. He listened to the report.

"Workers for a research team mapping out this previously unexplored cave system outside Everett, Washington have met with tragedy. This is the second team in two weeks to go into this cave system and come out with grievous injuries and several deaths among them. This team of workers, long time friends, suffered the worst of the two groups. Three dead and only one survivor. The man is listed in critical condition and police are not releasing his identity until his family can be reached. We have learned though that the man's brother was among the casualties. We have also learned that the man had spoken briefly to a co-worker who had remained topside to monitor the crew that went inside, before losing consciousness. It is rumored that the underground crew – quote- ran into something that ripped them to shreds-end quote. This is Gillian Reid with Channel Nineteen news and we'll be updating this story regularly as it develops."

John bolted up from his chair and moved to the beds, jarring each of his boys awake. He smacked Dean on the shin and tapped Sam's knee and both boys startled awake and sat up. "C'mon. We have to go. Now. There's been another research group attacked at that damn cave." Dean sat up, stifling a groan and pulled on his boots as John rapidly crammed all his papers in the folder and headed out the door to his truck. He fired the vehicles, trying to clear the frost from the windshields and raging when it seemed to take forever.

"Dad, Washington is still thirty six hours away, even if we get lucky and there's no construction and traffic. We can't get there in time to do anything about this crew. Hopefully with two groups getting killed the idiots will give up. We can't drive the whole way non-stop either. I won't do it." Sam came out of the motel room with his and Dean's duffels.

"Did you even sleep?" Sam asked his dad point blank.

"What's that got to do with anything?" John growled.

"Because I'm not going to follow you blind into this if you're not thinking and too tired to keep us alive! It has everything to do with it! I'm not gonna let you get Dean killed because you can't realize that this need to kill every freakin' evil thing out there is takin' over your life! Dad, you told me once that you'd back off. That you'd realized you needed to be our dad and not our Drill Sergeant. What the hell happened to that?"

Sam watched John seem to deflate as his words struck home. "Alright. We'll get something to eat on the road and drive 'til dark. Then we'll stop and get a couple rooms, sleep tonight and make it to Bobby's from there. If he goes with us, this hunt will go smoother and we'll finish the job and settle down for a bit. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes sir." Both answered automatically. Sam and Dean got in the Impala and waited for their dad to pull out in his big black truck. Two rumbling engines greeted the crisp December air and took off towards South Dakota and Bobby Singer.

South Dakota- twenty eight hours later.

Two familiar sounding engines rumbled their way down the gravel drive to the salvage yard that belonged to John's mentor and best friend. John pulled his truck into the yard and Dean pulled the Impala in beside it. He turned to Sam, who was sleeping in the front seat.

"Rise and shine, princess." Dean chided, shaking Sam's shoulder gently. Sam groaned and forced himself upright on the seat, working kinks out of his neck.

He looked out the windshield, taking in the snow that covered the ground and still fell. "We're here already?"

"What do you mean already? You've slept for the last three hundred miles Sammy."

"Huh." Sam said. "There's Bobby." Sam got out of the car and walked up to the older hunter, giving him a tight hug and breathing in the oddly comforting scent of oil and old books. Dean watched his brother embrace the hunter.

"What the hell is goin' on in that freaky head of yours huh?" He muttered before getting out of the car and walking up to repeat Sam's gesture with his old friend. "Hey Bobby." Dean said as the old man pulled him into a crushing embrace. He pulled back and looked at the man he used to call Uncle Bobby. Bobby had a flannel shirt on underneath a grease stained insulated vest. His ball cap was pulled down low over his bearded face. His light brown hair was beginning to show threads of gray. Bobby's brown eyes were alight with happiness at seeing two boys he thought of as family and their father. Even though he sometimes felt like pumping John full of buckshot he knew the man tried his best. He watched in silence as John came up to them and both boys quieted instantly, the happy looks on their faces fading. John, what the hell have you done now? Bobby looked from John to Dean and then to Sam and back. He did a double take and looked at Sam again, noticing the dark bruise on Sam's jaw. Aw, damnit John. You didn't.

"Boys, your room's ready, ya know that. Why don'cha crash for a few hours? I know ya drove most of the time to get here so quick. I'll wake you for supper."

"Thanks Bobby." Sam and Dean said in near unison, walking into the old house Bobby called home. John went to the car and his truck to get their bags. Bobby followed to help and to find out just what the hell was going on with his friend and the boys he loved.

"John." Bobby said, stopping the man as he slung his duffel up on his shoulder and then moved to the car to get his boys' bags. Bobby stepped in front of the ex-Marine and stood his ground. "John, just what the holy hell is goin' on with you and those two? How did Sam git that bruise?" John had been glaring at his friend, wanting nothing more than to not be pressed on the issues he had with his sons at the moment, but when Bobby mentioned the bruising John's eyes dropped and his knuckles whitened around the straps of the bags he held. "You hit him?!" Bobby asked incredulously.

"I know Bobby. I was stupid. We were fighting again and he smarted off and I just lost it. Now I feel like I'm losin' them both… again." John ducked his head and Bobby's previous anger faded a tiny amount, more like wanting to shoot him with rock salt than buckshot.

"Look, let's go inside. I've got coffee on and we can talk."

Sam dropped onto the twin sized bed furthest from the door. His usual bed. He propped his elbows on his thighs and watched as his big brother fell onto the bed beside him. Dean bent to untie his boot laces and toed them off, not bothering to right them when they hit the floor. He flopped onto his back and sighed wearily. He turned his head and caught his little brother watching him. "What's goin' on in that freaky head of yours huh?" He asked, sincerely wanting to be able to say something to make his brother relax and forget the recent hurts.

Sam dropped his eyes to the faded, but clean, carpet. "Do you think we'll ever have a normal life Dean?"

"I'd like so much to say yes Sammy, but y'know there's always gonna be somethin' to kill."

"Yeah." Sam said, flopping back onto his back on the twin size bed and turning away from Dean. He watched as Sam's breath hitched repeatedly and then finally settled. Dean's heart broke as he watched his baby brother cry himself to sleep.

John poured his feelings out to his mentor and old friend, finally falling silent and downing his half cold coffee. He rubbed a hand over his tired eyes and stared hard at his clenched fists, forcing them to flatten out against the worn table top.

"John, eat and get some sleep. We can't do anything tonight. We'll leave in the mornin' for Washington. Go sit your ass down in the livin' room. I'll come getcha when supper's on."

"Thanks dude." John said, getting up from the table and walking slowly into the living room like he was dragging the weight of the world on a short rope behind him.

Bobby worked at making a thick beef stew and pulled a loaf of bread from the pantry. He sat everything on the table and pulled three beers and a bottle of Pepsi from the fridge, putting them down at each of the chairs. He went into the living room and found John slumped on the couch, his head bent at an odd angle as he slept. He woke John and made him go into the kitchen while Bobby himself went to wake the boys. Bobby couldn't help but notice that Sam's eyes were red, his cheeks splotchy. Dean's green orbs remained downcast and haunted the brief times he looked up. What the hell is goin' on with these boys? After a silent, slightly tense dinner the boys went back to sleep.

South Dakota, the next morning.

"Damnit!" John swore. Bobby rushed into the living room when he heard his friend's outburst.

"What the hell?"

"Sunday morning. It's Sunday morning and another team of researchers is goin' in that damn cave!" John said; pointing to Bobby's laptop, which he'd had been utilizing for research. "They're taking a professional game hunter in with them this time."

"They're gonna get ripped apart. What are we thinking? Wendigo?"

"I don't think so. I hacked into the coroner's office that is dealing with the crews' bodies. I think it's smaller than a Wendigo. I'm gonna wake the boys, we need to get to Washington, now!"

A/N: Hoped you all liked it and don't forget to let me know! See you tomorrow with chapter 4.