They further on they pushed, the worse Sam felt. He was determined not to show it, but the fatigue was nearly overwhelming. Like Dean, Sam was in unusually good physical condition - Dad would have it no other way. And he wasn't used to feeling tired for no good reason. He was pretty sure his problems stemmed from whatever it was that Dad had put in the soda, but he figured there was nothing he could do about that now.

But damn, he itched like a son of a bitch.

So Sam kept putting one foot in front of the other, one hand over the other as they climbed down the first rise and made their up slowly up the other. It was only early afternoon now, but he felt like he'd been climbing for days. His hair clung to his face, and he'd already had to shed three layers. Still he was so hot he could barely stand it. He stopped to fish the half-empty bottle of water from his pack, and that's when he sunk to his knees, his vision blurring.

Dean was beside him in an instant.

"What's going on?" The older boy said, dropping the extra duffle and kneeling beside his brother.

"Nothing. Just tired is all." Sam lied, trying unsuccessfully to get the cap off the water bottle.

"Uh hunh." Dean answered, opening the bottle and holding it to his brother's lips. "That why you can't lift a half-empty water bottle?"

Sam chugged the bottle dry and ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "Not sure. I'm just so tired. Like .. weird tired. And I itch."

Dean nodded. "I think Dad's little cocktail is still messing with you, Sammy. Come on. Let's find some shade and set up camp."

Sam knew Dean wanted to keep pushing on, but he just didn't have it in him. In fact, he wasn't sure he could even get to his feet at all, let alone climb to the top of yet another freaking mountain.

"I'm sorry." He mourned, flopping backward and shielding his face with an arm. I just … just can't go on, Dean, you know?"

Dean did know. This delay would put them right in the line of fire, but he didn't know what else he could do. Sam was done. That was obvious. They'd have to hole up somewhere and let him get some rest, or he would never make it over the next ridge.

"S'okay, Sammy. It's not your fault, little bro." Dean reassured him, but Sam was too exhausted even to answer.

Dean let him rest and moved to a nearby tree. He grabbed the lowest branch and shinnied up the trunk like a monkey until he was a good twenty feet off the ground. He sighted the binoculars in and scanned the treeline, looking for any signs of movement. When he was satisfied that no one was within sight of them, he returned to the ground and began looking for a soft, sheltered place to make camp.

"Hey Sam?"

"Uh?"

"Think you can make it to those caves over there?"

"Yeah."

Dean snorted, "Think you should take a look first?"

Sam moved his arm and looked in the direction Dean was pointing. Damn. That looked far away. "Yeah," he repeated, lying.

"Are you lying, Sam?"

"Yeah."

"Well, okay then. As long as we're clear on that." Dean said, grinning. "No, stay there and rest." he said, when Sam began trying to sit up. "I'll go get it ready. You take a nap, okay?"

Sam flopped back down, gratefully. "'Yeah."

Dean dug around in the extra duffle and fished out a sheathed machete. He eyed it, shuddering, but he was suddenly glad it was there. It was exactly what he needed at the moment as he set about stripping every low-hanging leafy branch he could find to make pallets to hold their makeshift bedding. It would get at least down to freezing tonight, he knew. He also knew they couldn't risk building a fire. The two assholes following them had to be close, and Dean wanted to see them before they saw him and Sam.

It took him the better part of three hours to cut enough branches, drag them over to the cave and pile them up in some semblance of a nice, thick mattress. But when he was done, he was pleased with the result. It sure beat sleeping on the cold ground. The cave was also positioned in such a way that the late afternoon sun poured right into the entrance, heating the floor they'd be sleeping on. Dean figured that would help, as well. He returned then, for the bedding, and spread a single blanket on top. He'd save the quilt and the comforter as covers, and they'd use their duffles as pillows. It actually looked pretty cozy when he was through, he thought.

"That should keep you nice and warm, Sammy," Dean eyed his work with satisfaction. He moved to the front of the cave where he'd been working for close to an hour and glanced back over to where he'd last seen Sam reclined peacefully in sleep, except now his kid brother was on his hands and knees instead, Rudy's hands twisted cruelly in his hair and the barrel of Angelo's .45 pressed heartlessly to his forehead.