Sorry this chapter is kinda short… I've had crazy testing lately, not to mention training for my new esteemed position of hostess lol. Anyway I thought I'd throw in a little classic Dean humor. Hope you enjoy- review are absolutely necessary lol!

dean…

An hour later I found myself stumbling down the road in time to The Proclaimer's tune "I Would Walk 500 Miles," that was running through my head. My blood-lacking brain found this particularly amusing because I began to laugh ridiculously as if drunk and was not at all surprised when the laughing turned to coughing and then bleeding and around and around we go.

The still lucid part of my brain knew that time was running out for me and for the hope of rescuing Sammy. "If I could just find a damn car to hotwire," I muttered for the millionth time. The classic downfall of being in the middle of nowhere was of course the lack of people and thus the lack of cars. I had since out-walked what was the booming metropolis of Rock Springs and was now headed- according to the signs that were becoming increasingly blurry- towards Angela.

"I dated an Angela once," I found myself telling a gray squirrel that passed in front of me. "Damn was she fine. Tall, long blond hair, phewww…"

I felt myself slowing down, each step becoming a struggle. My nearly unconscious body rationalized with my fading brain to allow just a moment's rest. "Just a short break," I informed myself as I dropped to the ground, not even bothering to move off the road. "It's not like there's any traffic or anything," I joked aloud and thus began round two of the stuporous laughing.

"Pull it together Dean," I grunted as my hand reached involuntarily to my abdomen. I had bled through the bandage and found myself amusedly staring at the odd pattern of red that somewhat resembled a rabbit…or maybe a fox. "Damn, blood loss is worse than drugs."

"Well, time to go," I announced to the approaching dusk and heaved myself once again to standing position and began to walk.

"Shit, if I only had a horse."

sam…

Night had fallen and it was pitch-black in the shed where I sat forlornly. I had attempted every manner of escape possible, including focusing my newly acquired powers of moving large objects with my mind. Considering I had been able to move an extremely heavy dresser at the thought of Dean's ensuing death, one would think the notion of not only Dean's imminent death but my own loss of a brain would prompt some results- but no, there was nothing. My only plan was to wait for the thugs to arrive and attempt to jump them, but even this plot was beginning to fade with the weakness of malnourishment and sleep deprivation. So instead I turned my hope to Dean.

Dean had always been there for me, both as moral and physical support. Growing up, playground bullies had known better than to miss with Dean Winchester's brother. Granted once I had grown-out my painfully short and pudgy period and surpassed Dean by four inches I no longer "needed" the protection, he was still there. I've learned to count on Dean, rely on him. He is always there- no matter how much I wished him and his immature wisecracks would take a hike, no matter how annoyed I was by his music, his flirting, his unwavering submission to Dad- he was there. And now he wasn't. And I missed him.

"God dammit, I miss him."

dean…

"Here pretty horsie, I'm not gonna hurt you."

It was the dead of the night and I found myself ridiculously attempting to persuade a large black horse close enough so I could steal it. The thought that I had no idea how to ride a horse or even how to go about getting on it, hadn't crossed my mind yet as I carefully straddled the fence standing between me and my adversary.

"C'mon, please!" I pleaded, waving a piece of grass in his direction. "I just wanna ride you."

I was almost startled enough to fall off from where I was perched, when the horse suddenly lunged towards me and nuzzled my hand with it's extremely large and perfectly-capable-of-eating-my-hand mouth.

"Hey, little fella," I laughed as I patted the horse on the head. Slowly, so as not to startle him, I began to ease myself from the fence and onto his broad backside. Only minutes later I was surprised to find myself sitting abroad it's docile back. "Dean Winchester; cowboy… that's a new one," I thought to myself as I contemplated how to go about making it move.

"Ummm, giddy-up?" I cautiously prodded with my heels and almost yelled when the horse sprung forward and only just managed to grab his neck in time to save myself from a long fall.

And so I began, riding a horse down a Montana highway, determined to find and save my brother and hopefully not die in the process. It was late, that much I could tell and even with my sporadic naps throughout the day, exhaustion was beginning it's ascent. My eyes were growing enormously heavy, my whole body weak from the effort of almost constant motion…

"…Hey Horse, I don't know if you can understand me but, we're looking for my brother. He's tall (taller than me the little shit), and he's got brown hair and…

…why the hell am I talking to a horse?"

Intense frustration kicked into overdrive and I almost fell off in my rage but instead I nudged "Horse" with my heels and leaning forward found myself galloping into the darkness, a cowboy on a mission, dead-set to rescue my brother from the mess that was all my fault.