Reader Notes: I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Seven

By Dawn Nyberg

Led Zeppelin blared from the Impala's cassette deck while Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. Sam was reading their Dad's journal and looking at various articles their father had collected over the years. Dean caught a smile cross Sam's face as he read a passage. "What is it?"

"Huh?" Sam responded absently.

"What did you just read? You smiled."

"Nothin', just something dad wrote about you and me."

"What?"

"I never knew that after mom died you'd crawl into my crib and sleep with me," Sam said looking at his brother. "I guess dad thought you felt you had to protect me, or something." Dean didn't look at Sam.

"I don't remember doing that." Dean lied. "I was only four when mom died," he answered flatly.

"Yeah," Sam's eyes drifted back to the passage. Dean's mind went back to that time and he remembered the fear that used to hold him prisoner over the safety of his little brother, hell, he thought, the same fear still filled him even now. He wasn't sure why he lied to Sam, but it was done. He thought back to the first few weeks that followed the death of their mom, and how he'd try to sleep near Sam's crib, but wouldn't be able to close his eyes afraid Sam wouldn't be there when he woke up. He clearly remembered crawling up into the crib and lying next to his little brother curling protectively around him. A four year old boy embracing an unsaid oath, protect Sammy, keep him safe, and he always would.

Sam closed the journal after a few more pages were flipped through and he reaching over the front seat to the backseat he put the journal inside Dean's open duffel. They had passed the 'welcome to Virginia sign a while ago,' and they had a long day of driving ahead of them. "Do you want to switch? I'll take a shift," Sam offered. Dean shook his head.

"Nah, I've only been driving for four hours," he glanced at his brother. "We need gas," he said glancing at the gas gauge. "You hungry? We could grab a bite while we fill up."

"Yeah, okay."

"Man, listen to that enthusiasm."

"What? Am I supposed to throw confetti or something," Sam's tone was suddenly irritated and it caught Dean off guard. He tossed a confused glance at his younger brother.

"Where the hell did that come from? Check the 'tude," his tone edgy. He could see Sam's jaw tighten slightly, and then release keeping his eyes straight ahead on the road stretching ahead of them. Dean pressed further, "Am I talkin' to myself here?" Sam ignored him. "Hello?"

Sam turned slowly toward his brother, "If you want to stop, stop," his tone angry.

"Damn," Dean blurted out. "What bug crawled up your ass?"

"Bite me."

Dean was dumbfounded into silence at his younger brother. He could usually see a mood shift coming way down the pike, but this one exploded out of nowhere, and he found himself so taken aback by it that the anger in his voice wasn't even all that genuine, it was more reflexive than anything. An uncomfortable silence fell over the occupants of the car. And, without turning his head from the scenery out his window, Sam spoke softly, "sorry." Dean cast a concerned look at his brother.

"It's okay. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Sam didn't want to tell Dean about the dream. "Just tired, I guess." Sam had been fighting recollections of his strange repetitive dream that he'd been having since Miami, and his frustration was growing. Whenever, he closed his eyes now he would have the same dream. It wasn't a nightmare, after all, Dean was safe, he was the one dying, and he was okay with that, but it still bothered him just the same because he couldn't understand why he was able to watch things unfold in it, a spectator, and participant, two halves separated playing different roles. Dean saw an exit for gas, and food, and turned off.

"Sam?" His tone was serious. "If you're not up for this hunt you need to tell me."

"I'm fine." But, deep down Sam felt this hunt was going to change their lives in some way, he just didn't know how. Dean looked uncertain, but he didn't press. He knew Sam always thought about covering his back during a hunt, and wouldn't enter into one if he thought he couldn't stay sharp for both of them. Dean knew his brother had his back. They had each others; as sure as lungs need oxygen. It was a certainty that they could both always count on.

After another three hours on the road Sam and Dean switched out driving. Dean leaned back and closed his eyes while Sam drove. Sam needed some music, but was tired of his brother's cassettes, so he opted for the radio, and finally found a channel that would work. He smiled as Nora Jones' 'Don't Know Why,' came on the radio. Jess had loved that song. And. his mind drifted away to another time, a time with Jessica.

"You're not going to go home for Thanksgiving?" Jess asked as she pushed back Sam's bangs.

"No, we don't celebrate, you know that, Jess. Anyway, I'm sure my Dad and brother aren't even home. They do their own thing."

"I'm sure your Dad didn't mean what he said when you left for college," Jess assured. She hated that Sam obviously missed his family, especially the big brother he had mentioned more than once to her.

"What? About if I leave to stay gone/" Sam paused. "He meant it."

"Sam," Jessica's voice soft. "At least call."

"Jess, you know were not like that, so drop it, okay?" His tone hadn't been abrupt, just defeated.

"I'll stay on campus for the holidays then," Jess smiled.

"No, you're close with your family. Go have fun. I'll be here when you get home."

"You are home to me, Sam. I love you." Sam smiled warmly at her and leaned in for a deep kiss, as he cradled her face softly in his hands. "Come with me then. My parents love you."

"I don't know," his voice hesitant. What did he know about family holidays? He had no memories of them, not really. His mother had died when he was still a baby, and the life that could have been, died with her. Sam watched Jess rise from the couch and put on a CD, and as the song began she came back to the couch and curled up against Sam.

"Please, come," Jess turned smiling at him.

"Well," he began with a laugh. "I never could say 'no' to you."

The memory started to fade as the song continued on the radio; he remembered they made love that afternoon as "Don't Know Why" brushed over them from the other room like warm fingers. Sam felt something on his face and absently raised his hand to brush whatever it was away, and was surprised to find his hand wet with silent tears. His chest ached somewhere deep inside, an undefined place that didn't exist in any medical book, it was where he kept his grief for Jess, and the life he had with her. He rubbed at is face roughly to rid his cheeks of any evidence of tears. He would not allow himself the luxury of tears, but especially with Dean sleeping next to him. He thought back on the night of the fire, and Jessica's death, and the fact he had allowed tears then; Dean had seen them, and had only looked at his brother with concern and sadness, but he wouldn't allow them now. His need for revenge fueled a deeper need that over ruled his need to truly grieve. He would allow that some other day, not now. He took in a shaky cleansing breath, and let it out slowly, and with that simple action the slightly opened door to that dark, secret place inside him closed with a thud. And, Sam Winchester looked at the road ahead stretching out ahead an endless black ribbon of asphalt, turned the radio up, and continued to drive.

Sam glanced passively at the 'Welcome to Maryland,' sign as he passed it and then glanced at his brother jealous that he could sleep so well. He shook his head slightly as he remembered vaguely what a good night's sleep was like, but the memory was so distant that it almost seemed like it never existed. Dean stirred and sat up looking around getting his bearings.

"Where we at?" His voice still had a hint of sleepy inflection.

"Maryland."

"Maryland! Damn, how long was I out?"

"A while," Sam offered lightly. Dean glanced over at the gas gauge.

"Why don't we stop pretty soon and fill up. And, I'm so hungry I may start to gnaw on my own hand pretty soon." Dean glanced at his brother with that familiar Dean Winchester sly smile.

"Man, Dean," Sam said taking his eyes off the road for a second to cast an incredulous look at his brother. "I think you're feedin' a tape worm," he said with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean bantered back to his little brother. "I can take the next leg, Sam," Dean offered.

"Nah, I'm good. I'd like to drive." Dean cast his eyes toward his brother and surveyed him.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam remained looking ahead, as he took an exit that advertised food and gas. Dean's brow furrowed slightly at the response.

"Did something happen while I was asleep?"

"Huh?" Sam's voice held a confused tone.

"You heard me."

"What could have happened? I've been driving. I'm fine." Sam looked at Dean like he was nuts. The youngest Winchester wasn't stupid he knew Dean could feel some kind of mood shift in him, as if he could tell a trip down Memory Lane had occurred, but he wasn't going to lead on he knew. He didn't want to go back to that memory when he knew how raw he still felt.

"Yeah, sure," Dean's sarcasm couldn't be denied. He knew Sam was lying, but he wasn't going to press it, after all, he has never been the 'let's get in touch with our feelings' kind of brother, he thought to himself. He knew if his kid brother really had to talk and get things off his chest he would listen. There wasn't anything he'd probably deny him within reason and, chick flick moments weren't his forte, so he let it go for now.

They filled up first and then drove back up toward their exit onto the highway, and pulled into a diner that resembled something out of the fifties. It has a classic appeal to it, and Dean had to admire that. Sam followed in step behind his brother throwing on a light beige jacket over his t-shirt. The Winchester brothers walked into the diner, and Dean met eyes with the waitress an older looking woman that had the air of 'I've been doing this job since before you were in diapers' around her. Her name on her tag said: Wanda. She had red hair pulled back in an intricate bun, and wispy tendrils cascaded down the sides of her face. "Hello, two?"

Dean nodded.

"A booth in the back on the window okay?" She asked as she grabbed a couple menus.

"Sure." Wanda cast a look at the two young men as they began to follow her to their table.

"Road tripping?" She asked casually.

"We're that obvious," Dean said smiling as he and Sam took seats across from one another in the booth.

"You remind me of my boys when they'd go on road trips. You two brothers?" She saw a resemblance between the two and figured she was right.

"Yeah." Dean replied. Sam just offered a small smile, but said nothing.

"The blue plate special today is meatloaf, which is pretty good," she offered with a warm smile. "I'll be back in a few for your orders."

"Thanks."

Sam flipped randomly through the menu and back to the beginning to start all over again. Dean let out a loud sigh, and lowered his own menu. "Sam, what are you doing?"

"Deciding."

"Deciding, what? This isn't a life altering choice at stake. It's food." Sam's response was to give his brother an annoyed look. "Well, it isn't," Dean, added in response to the look.

After a few more minutes Wanda returned ready to take their order. "So, boys what looks good?" She said smiling. "Well, as my Aunt Rose used to say, 'age before beauty,' so who's ordering first," she laughed lightly. Dean chuckled and a smile crept across his face. "Well, I take both categories, so I guess that'd be me." Wanda laughed and looked at Sam.

"You have your hands full with this one, huh?" Sam cracked a smile and rolled his eyes.

"You have no idea." His sarcastic tone pointed in his big brother's direction couldn't be missed.

Dean and Sam ordered their food, and Sam excused himself to the bathroom. Dean pulled out his cell phone, and pulled up the last number dialed. He connected with the number and waited. It rang twice. "Hello, Dean," the sudden greeting using his name surprised him.

"How'd you know it was me?" He felt like an instant idiot as he remembered, oh yeah, she's psychic. He briefly recalled Missouri Mosley and how when he and Sam had gone to Lawrence she had been able to read their thoughts. The voice of Eileen Glendan on the other end of the phone brought Dean out of his recollections. "Dean?"

"Oh, sorry," Dean replied sheepishly.

"So, you're going to take another day or two to get here," she filled in the silence following Dean's quick reply.

"You know that's not fair," he chuckled. Eileen laughed over the phone.

"Yes, it always drove my children nuts when they were growing up. I always knew what they did and didn't tell me."

"You're still not going in the main house, right?"

"No, and I won't until you and your brother get here, I promise."

"So, it's okay, that we take an extra day or two to get to you," Dean's voice casual.

"Of course," she replied. "You're worried about your brother, aren't you?" Dean knew it was pointless to try and cover, so he admitted she was right.

"He's just been tired, and…" His voice drifted off.

"I understand, dear," her voice soft. "A big brother's duty never really gets a day off. My Martin is the same way with the youngest in our brood, Ian no matter how old they get." Dean caught sight of Sammy making his way back through the diner from the bathroom.

"Thanks," Dean said. "I'll see you in a couple days." And, he closed his phone. Sam slid back into the booth and looked at Dean.

"Who was that?"

"I called Eileen Glendan and said we'd be there in a couple days. She said it was fine."

"A couple days? Dean, we could make it there sooner."

"Yeah, but she's not in immediate danger, so we'll get there in a day or two." Sam wasn't an imbecile and he knew this delay was because of him, and the fact Dean was concerned, but just wasn't going to come out and say it.

"Yeah, whatever," Sam let out a sigh and looked out the window. Dean looked at Sam and studied his pale features trying to not be obvious. He failed, of course. "I see you lookin' at me, Dean." Sam's voice held a hint of irritation. But, the potentially tense moment was broken when Wanda chimed in as she approached with a plate of food in each hand.

Dean had ordered a country-fried steak with mash potato's and corn. His eyes were savoring the food, and he could feel his stomach grumbling. "This looks great." He looked at his brother's plate and couldn't stop from quirking up his nose. He wasn't a big fan of seafood. Sam saw his disgusted look, "What?" he chastised his brother. "You're not the one eating it."

"Whoa, there tiger. Hey, to each his own." He raised a placating hand to his little brother. Wanda sensing the sibling rivalry tried to decompress the situation just a little.

"Well, I can see who is the healthier eater," she looked at Sam and smiled.

"Healthier?" Dean grunted. "It's that California, west coast thing. At least, my food is real."

"California?" Wanda raised an eyebrow. "You boys don't strike me as California boys, I would have guessed mid-west."

"We are," Dean replied. "We grew up in Kansas. He's the corn flake from California." Sam rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh.

"I was going to college there in Palo Alto."

"Oh, Stanford boy, huh?" A look of surprise crossed Sam's face, and Wanda noticed.

"I had a nephew that attended there. My sister lives outside the city. So, you said 'was going,' did you finish up?" Sam glanced down at his plate for a second and then back up to the woman's face.

"I'm taking a break right now."

"Well, you're young," she offered. "Plenty of time to return when you're ready."

"Yeah." Sam's voice was soft.

"Well, I'm going to let you two eat, and I'll check back for refills in a few, okay?"

Both brothers smiled and nodded.

The weather was pleasant, but cool and was a stark contrast to Miami. Dean ate and tried idle chat with his brother, but after a few grunts, and 'mmm-hmm's' as responses he gave up on the one sided conversation. He watched the small town traffic go by and would occasionally glance at Sam's food. He was happy to see his kid brother actually eat a meal. Dean cleared his throat, "I'll take the next driving leg," he began. "Maybe, put down another four hours or so under our belt and stop around 7:00 or 8:00 tonight, okay?" Sam knew Dean wasn't really asking his opinion or clearing it with him, but he grunted an, 'uh-huh,' while he took a bite of his baked cod filet. There was a long silence as the boys sat and finished their food. Wanda had returned a couple times to top off their drinks. Dean noticed her approach and he looked at her.

"Care for dessert?" Dean's eyes had a glint to them.

"Hmm, I might not be able to pass that up." He glanced at the dessert choices and chose a piece of blueberry pie. Sam shook his head at Wanda.

"No, thanks. Nothing for me."

"Okay." Wanda returned shortly with a piece of fresh blueberry pie, and Dean could feel his mouth water. "Here you go," she placed it down in front of him. "Enjoy. Here's the check for you boys."

"Thanks." The Winchester boys both replied.

Sam's mind was stuck on replay and he couldn't stop the memory loop from running in his head. He kept replaying his dream about the room with glass windows and ceiling, and the fact he dies saving his brother in that room. The third person feeling of observing it all happen had such a surreal feeling to it that he couldn't shake. There had been another small detail emerge in his most recent dream about the door leading into this large room; it was a glass door covered with a decorative wrought iron that looked old. It wasn't anything major, but any new emergent qualities to this recurring dream gave him something else to work with. He had a distinct memory from all of the versions of this dream that there was presence there with him, and it felt like a spirit, but it was only a feeling, and he shook it off. He thought to himself he was probably wrong anyway. There was a voice edging in on his consciousness pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, Earth to Sammy. Come in Sam," Dean waved a hand in front of his brother's distant eyes. And, then he saw the lights go on in his little brother's eyes, and Sam looked at him. "Welcome back," he said with an amused look. "Where'd you go?"

"Huh?" Sam's mind was only just beginning to engage with his older brother.

"You were a thousand miles away dude." Dean's mouth was grinning, but it didn't reach his eyes this time around. He was concerned.

"Yeah, sorry," Sam answered lightly. "Mental vacation, I guess." He noticed that the check was gone, and he glanced back to his brother. "You all ready paid?"

"Yeah, space cadet, you were off on your cosmic voyage while I paid. I had to come back and get you. So, come on, we're outta here."

"Comin'" Sam stood up and followed his brother out of the diner and back to the Impala actually glad it was Dean's turn to drive.