"Dean, it's not a good idea to come here, not right now," Bobby said emphatically.

Dean flicked a glance at Sam, who was sitting cross-legged on the bed next to him, listening. "I know, Bobby, but -"

"Do you know Gordon Walker?"

"I don't know him, but I know who he is," Dean answered, brow creased. "He's a hunter. Dad told me about him."

"Yeah and a damned good one," Bobby growled. "I threw him and his partner off my property a couple nights ago. They're hunting Sam."

"Dad said the guy's a whack job," Dean protested. "He won't even hunt with him!"

"Not many people will. He doesn't care who gets hurt. Or killed," Bobby said flatly. "There's nothing he won't do to finish a job. I heard he killed his own sister when she was turned by vamps a few years ago."

The two boys looked at each other, dismayed.

"Great. Just - fuckin' great." Dean rubbed wearily at the ache between his eyes. "It's not bad enough Dad sends a couple of rapists after Sam. Now he's sending a damned homicidal maniac?"

"What?" Bobby's voice rose to a screech. "He did what?"

"What the hell, Dean!" Sam's astonishment turned quickly to anger. He bounced up from the bed and stomped furiously toward the door. "Thanks a lot!'

"Sam - shit! Sam, stay here!" Dropping the phone on the bed, Dean caught his brother at the open door and jerked him back, slamming the door shut. "Damn it, stay inside!"

Breathing hard, Sam shoved him. "Asshole!"

Dean shoved him back and the two squared off, fists clenched, glaring angrily at each other.

"Boys?" Bobby's voice echoed from the cell phone lying deserted on the bed. "Dean? Dean!"

The two boys stared at each other for a moment longer, then Dean huffed out a breath and raised his hands in surrender. Going back to the bed, he grabbed up the cell. "Sorry, Bobby."

"What the hell did your idiot father do? Is Sam okay? Are you okay?"

"He's fine, Bobby," Dean reassured him. "We're fine."

"What happened?"

Dean glanced at his brother, still glowering by the door. "Not now, Bobby. Okay?" he said in a low voice.

There was silence for a moment on Bobby's end and then the old man said tightly, "I'm gonna want to hear about this later."

Dean murmured an assent.

After a tense moment, Bobby said, "I haven't seen Walker since I ran him off, but I'm sure he'll be back sooner or later."

"Perfect goddamned timing," Dean said. He was silent for a moment, thinking. "You got any ideas that can help us keep this bastard out of Sammy's head?"

"Gimme a minute."

Bobby put the phone down on the other end and Dean heard the sound of his footsteps receding. With a sigh, he looked at Sam. "I'm sorry, man," he said apologetically. "I wasn't thinking."

Sam's voice was tight, hard. "I don't want him thinking about that when he looks at me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's bad enough that –" Sam broke off, cursing himself. He was not getting into that whole incest thing with Dean, not right now.

"What?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. It's just – all this bullshit."

Dean nodded, understanding, he thought, and the two waited for Bobby's return to the line.

"Dean, you there?" Bobby's voice rang jarringly in the quiet room.

"Yeah, we're here."

"I got an idea," Bobby said. "I know a psychic name of Pamela Barnes, a couple states over. She might be able to help."

"A psychic?" Dean said it as if the word tasted bad.

"Well, seems to me it's a matter of Sam being able to shield himself," Bobby said logically. "And a good psychic has to be able to shield, otherwise they'll have people tripping in and out of their head all day long."

Sam said slowly, "That makes sense, I guess."

"I don't know . . ." Dean's voice trailed off. "How do we know if –"

"She's the real deal," Bobby interrupted. "I wouldn't send you to her if she weren't. Anyway, I called her but she wasn't there. I'll try again in a couple hours, and get back to you after."

Thought he was more than a little doubtful, Dean felt the hard knot in his chest ease, just a bit. At least it was something. "Thanks, Bobby."

"Yeah, well, don't throw me any parades just yet. Wait till we see what she says." Bobby cleared his throat, then said gruffly, "Sam, you okay?"

"I'm fine, Bobby," Sam said stiffly. "Don't worry."

"Yeah, right." Bobby snorted. "Listen, I'll call back in a few hours. In the meantime, keep your heads down."

Assurances were made. Goodbyes were said. After they disconnected, the two brothers stared at each other.

"This could be good, Sam," Dean said tentatively.

"We'll see." Sam walked over to the bed and started stuffing his clothing into his duffle bag. "I'm gonna get ready to go."

"What's the rush?" Dean asked. "We don't know where we're going, or if we're going. We gotta wait till Bobby calls us back."

"I don't care." Sam looked stubborn. "I feel better when we're moving. Maybe it's not as easy for the demon to track us, me, when we're moving."

"We'll probably just end up driving in the exact wrong direction."

Sam didn't answer, just kept packing.

Dean shrugged, giving in. It was just gas and a little bit of time. If it made Sam feel better, it was worth it. "Okay, sure."

Sam nodded curtly. "Thanks." He kept packing.

With a small sigh, Dean went to use the bathroom.

Sam went still. For the space of a heartbeat, his shoulders slumped, despair washing over him. Then his jaw hardened and he straightened up, looked around to see if he'd forgotten anything.

From the other bed, Dean's cell phone rang.

Bobby, already?

"I got it!" Mood lightening slightly with how quickly Bobby had gotten back to them, Sam picked up Dean's cell. "Hey –"

"Hello, Sam," his father said. "Nice job on Jack and Frank. I'm impressed."

Sam's eyes widened. He almost dropped the phone. "Dad?"

"I'm guessing Dean killed them," John's tone was mocking. "You're not much of a fighter. But their deaths are still on you."

"Dad. I – you - " Sam looked helplessly at Dean, who was standing, frozen, in the bathroom doorway.

Coming back to life, Dean stomped over and snatched the phone from his brother. "You fuck!"

"Dean," John said calmly, ignoring Dean's outburst. "I want you to come back."

Dean's mouth opened in outrage but nothing came out. Finally, "Are you kidding me?"

"You've got to get away from him, Dean. You killed two humans. How long before you start killing innocents? How long before you don't even know the difference?"

"I didn't –" Dean bit the words back, not wanting to give their father any more ammunition.

"It was Sam?" Recovering quickly, John said, amused, "Guess some of my training took after all."

"You know what, Dad? Fuck you."

Sam shuddered and moved past him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a bang.

"You'll be back, one way or another," John said with certainty. "Come back now and I'll leave him alone. He'll be fine."

"Yeah, until Gordon Walker catches up to him!"

Silence on the other end of the line.

"You sent killers after my brother," Dean said succinctly. "You sent rapists."

"I didn't –"

"Don't lie."

"Dean, I never told them to hurt your brother in that way. You need to remember, Sam has a tendency to exaggerate." John's tone was eminently reasonable. "He misunderstood what was happening and his overreaction killed two good men. He's always been –"

Suddenly the bathroom door opened and Sam appeared in the doorway, looking panicked.

"Hang up!"

"What –"

"Dean, hang up."

Sam grabbed Dean's cell and, ignoring John's raised voice, turned it off. Then he dug out his own cell and turned it off. "He's just trying to keep you on the phone!"

Dean's mouth dropped open in dismay. "Oh, shit!"

"How the hell did he get your number?" Sam grated. His gun was in his hand as he paced quickly to the window and peered outside.

"I don't know. Damn it!"

"Do you think he traced it?"

"I don't know, maybe. Damn it, probably." Dean had his own gun out as well. "We've got to get the hell out of here. Now."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Bobby's call went straight to voicemail and he left a message. When he hung up the phone, his worn face held a worried frown. Why wasn't Dean answering?

He knew damned well the boy was worried sick about his brother, and chomping at the bit, waiting for word that it was okay to go to Pamela's. So why wasn't he picking up?

Had John found them?

With an effort, he pushed that thought away. The boys were fine. It wasn't like they were helpless civilians. They could take care of themselves.

Bobby sighed. He wished it were possible for them to come stay with him, rest up – they were likely worn down with all the shit going down lately - but with Walker likely somewhere nearby, it was best not to take chances.

Damn John anyway, for setting that lunatic on his sons. And what the hell had Dean been talking about, a rapist? What damned rapist?

Damn it, he would get that story out of Dean, and soon. These boys were the closest thing he had to family and if someone hurt them, especially in that way, he was going to be having words with John Winchester.

More than words, he would have the bastard's blood!

Too riled to settle, he grabbed his shotgun from behind the door, checked to make sure it was loaded and then walked outside, whistling for Rumsfeld. He'd take a walk around, see what he could see.

And if he happened to see Walker – well, he wouldn't be missing this second chance at him.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Gordon watched sourly from his hiding place in the crippled Honda Civic as Singer and his dog passed by below him, thankful for the earlier brief but heavy rain which had washed away his scent.

He'd like to put a hole in the old bastard, and in his damned dog, too. What the hell was the old fool thinking, protecting Winchester's demon spawn? Singer had enough years of hunting under his belt to know you couldn't take any chances when it came to monsters. If you didn't kill them today, they'd sure as shit be killing your ass tomorrow.

Walker frowned. Was it possible that Singer himself had been turned? Was he sheltering the Winchester boys because the demon had plans for the boy, not in spite of it? He ground his teeth in rage, eyes hot on the retreating older hunter. If that were true . . .

He should kill the bastard now. But if he did and the Winchester boys called and couldn't reach him, they might not come.

On the other hand, they might decide the old guy needed help and ride to the rescue. He chewed his lip in indecision.

In the end, his only decision was to wait, and he reluctantly watched Bobby and the dog move deeper into the junkyard.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

A little surprised that he'd managed to make it to the Impala without getting his head shot off, Sam watched the road behind them as the Impala ate up the highway.

He could feel Dean taking quick little glances at him, trying to gauge his mood, but he didn't look back at him. He did not want Dean to know how freaked out he really was.

Damn it! Just when he thought he had a handle on this bullshit with Dad, some little thing would happen and he'd be right back where he started.

It had been a phone call, just a damned phone call, and what had he done? Turned into a helpless, whiny little baby needing to be rescued by his big brother.

Come on, man! How hard would it have been to just hang up on the bastard? Or tell him to fuck off and die? Too hard, apparently, for his fragile little self. Sam snorted disgustedly, not seeing Dean's startled look.

He brushed an errant lock of shaggy hair back from his face, hand trembling slightly. Screw it. Fragile or not, there was a target on his back. He was surrounded by enemies and every damned one of them fixated on killing him.

It had been a mistake, staying with Dean. He had demon blood, for shit's sake. He was going to get his brother killed if he stayed with him -

"Jesus, Sam, the crazy is practically leaking out of your ears! What the hell is going on with you?"

Sam twisted around to face the road ahead, fingers tapping nervously on his knee. "Nothing."

He heard Dean draw an exasperated breath and said quickly, "What're we gonna do about Bobby, Dean? He's probably already trying to reach us."

Looking at his little brother's pale, set profile, Dean made a sudden, unilateral decision. "We're going to his place."

Alarmed, Sam whipped around to face him. "But he told us not to come!"

"Not specifically," Dean said evenly. "He just said it would be better if we didn't."

"But what about Walker? And Dad?"

"We'll deal with that if – when - we run into them. We gotta stop running, Sammy. So long as we run, they'll keep chasing us. If we make a stand –" his voice faltered at the thought of who, eventually, they'd be facing – "we can get back to our lives, not have to worry about watching our backs every minute of the damned day."

After a minute, Sam said, with a faint smile, "So, all we'll have to worry about is monsters?"

"Fuckin' A. Business as usual." Dean reached over and gave Sam's leg a quick pat. "We can handle this."

Sam nodded, trying to hide his misgivings.

Apparently he didn't do too good a job of it, because Dean scowled and kicked the Impala up another notch. "Freaking Dad. I am gonna kick his freakin' ass."