Shit.

Fucking Lucifer was back.

Sam wasn't saying a damned thing, but Dean knew the signs. For the last hour his brother had been shooting furtive little glances into the backseat. Not at Crystal, who was dozing, slumped against the window, but into the opposite corner.

He'd stare for a couple of minutes with a blank expression on his face. Then he'd flinch and shudder and whip his eyes back to the road ahead. Before long, he'd be peeking into the backseat again and the whole damn thing would start all over again.

Maybe a little distraction was in order.

When Sam's eyes cut to the rear again, Dean said suddenly, "How's your leg?"

"Huh?" Sam dragged his gaze away from the backseat and looked at his brother. "What?"

"Your leg," Dean repeated patiently. "How is it?"

"It's okay." Sam looked out of the corner of his eye at the backseat again. "No problem."

"Lemme see."

"Dean, I'm okay."

"Don't make me pull this car over!"

Sam sighed and reluctantly pulled the robe aside, baring his bandaged thigh. Dean reached over and pulled up the edge of the bandage. "Huh."

"What?" Sam asked defensively.

"It's starting to get infected, that's what." Dean looked into the rearview at Crystal, who was now awake and staring sleepily back at him. He smiled at her, then leaned over and opened the glove box, pulling out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and some antibiotic cream.

Anticipating Dean's intent, Sam snatched the meds out of Dean's hand. "I can do it, Dean," he said grumpily. "I'm not a damned cripple." He opened his robe wider and pulled off the bandage. "We could've waited until we got to Bobby's. Damned leg's not gonna fall off!"

"Less talk, more meds," Dean said, unruffled.

Sam shot him the bird. Mouth tight, he poured a generous dollop of the peroxide over the reddening wound, hissing as it bubbled and fizzed and then spilled off his hairy, muscular thigh and onto the seat.

"Damn it, Sammy, watch out!"

"Bite me, Dean! This was your damned idea!" Sam angrily wiped away the excess liquid with the sleeve of his robe and tossed the bottle into the back seat, nearly beaning Crystal in the head.

She managed to knock it aside with a hasty swipe and it fell to the floor. "Hey, watch it!"

Sam froze, then twisted slowly around. He stared fixedly at Crystal, his face suddenly filled with a mixture of fear and rage.

Crystal shrank back in her seat. "Sam?" she faltered. "What – what's wrong?"

"You fucking bitch!" he growled.

"What the – " Dean looked at him and his mouth dropped open. "Sam! Damn it, it's just -Sam!"

With a maddened bellow, Sam launched himself over the seat and landed on top of Crystal.

Crystal screamed, the sound instantly cut off as Sam's hands went around her throat and started to squeeze. "Dean!" she gurgled.

"Sam, stop!" Dean stomped hard on the brakes and yanked the Impala over to the side of the road. "Shit!" He flew out of the car and pulled the back door open, hauling back on Sam's shoulders. Growling, Sam kicked back at him, catching his brother in the mouth and sending him sprawling to the ground.

Mouth bloody, stunned, Dean staggered to his feet. "Sam!" He threw himself back into the fray. "Sam, get off!" Desperate, he grabbed Sam's hair and pulled, yanking him back out of the car. Sam howled with pain, his hands tightening on Crystal's throat, dragging her out of the car with him. They all crashed to the ground in a tangle of thrashing limbs, Dean trapped underneath Sam and Crystal.

A frantic kick from Crystal connected with Sam's wounded thigh. With a sharp cry, he let go of her, grabbing hold of his thigh, blood spurting through his fingers from the reopened wound. Choking and coughing, fighting to pull air through her abused throat, she crawled away from him and wiggled under the Impala, inches ahead of Sam as he propelled himself after her.

Dean grabbed the bottom of Sam's robe and pulled him back. Sam cursed, throwing off the robe and trying to wriggle underneath the car after Crystal, ignoring the gravel and rocks that dug into his naked flesh.

"Dean!" Crystal screamed hoarsely. "Dean! Help me!"

"You bitch!" Sam growled at her, grabbing her ankle. "I'll kill you for what you did to us!"

"Ow! Let go! Dean, where are you? Dean!" Desperate, Crystal kicked out at Sam, but it did no good. Eyes mad, he dragged her steadily, inexorably, out from under the car.

"Got you now, you bitch!" Sam rose, grabbed a rock from the ground and raised it over his head. "Got you now!"

"Sam, please!" Crystal cried out in despair, crossing her arms in front of her face.

Then Dean came up behind Sam and pressed a hypodermic needle into his bare ass.

Sam's eyes rolled up into his head and he collapsed. Dean caught him, managed to lower him to the ground. "Shit, Sammy," Dean breathed, aghast.

Hands shaking, he pulled Sam's eyelid back. Definitely out.

Pulse fine.

Breathing fine.

Thigh torn open and bleeding. But not life-threatening, for the moment.

Dean ran a hand over his face. Christ!

Sure that Sam was okay, at least for the moment, he turned to Crystal.

She'd pulled herself up tight against the side of the car, hands on her throat, watching the two brothers with wide, shocked eyes.

Dean crossed to her, dropped to his knees and pulled her hands away from her throat. Bruises already forming, bad ones. She was lucky Sam hadn't crushed her throat.

"Crystal, I am so damned sorry," he said with remorse. "Can you breathe okay?"

She nodded and tried to speak. Nothing came out but a gasp. She coughed, tried again. Finally, a raspy croak emerged.

"What the fuck was that?"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I gotta go along with Crystal! Where the hell did that come from?

In my defense, this is TOTALLY not my fault! I had the boys and Crystal safe in the Impala, everyone relatively happy, on their way to Bobby's house. I had roast beef and biscuits all ready and waiting for them, maybe some pie, definitely some tequila, and then SAM started getting snarky!

"Why are Crystal and Dean having all the fun? When do I get to do something besides lay around with my tasty bits hanging out?"

Well, FINE! You asked for it, Sam!

So this is what happens when you let Sam Winchester have his way.

What a drama queen!

Anyone has any complaints, please address them to samwinchesterisawhinybitch AT IAMSCREWED DOT COM