11

He'd followed the tracks for an hour, getting more and more tense with each step he took further into the woods, the unnerving unnatural silence that had followed the howl - in which nothing moved or called out into the suddenly still air – caused for him to become more and more nervous, so that he was jumping at each of his own footfalls, and had almost fired his gun when he'd stood on a twig, the sharp crack echoing in the silence.

The tracks led him surprisingly to a wide track that broke the trees, He paused for a moment, studying the tracks that mingled with those of several other animals, eyes falling upon tyre treads, wondering why Marcus hadn't brought the truck here instead of the small lay-by he had pulled them into.

The low howl broke the air again, crackling through the silence and making Dean shiver and causing the hair at his nape to stand on end. Slowly he turned his body, facing the track that stretched off into the dark, disappearing around a bend of shadowed trees.

To his left a twig cracked, and something rustled in the bushes that lined that part of the track. Dean raised his gun, eyes watching the bushes carefully, finger curving round to cock the gun.

Marcus stepped out of the bushes, gun trained on Dean, and both studied each other for a moment before guns were lowered, and Marcus walked over to Dean, drawing the boy to his side in a one-armed hug, eyes judging the same tracks that Dean had looked at before raising his eyes, looking towards the bend that Dean faced.

"Keep your gun ready," the man ordered briskly, leading the way down the track.

Sam was sat quietly in the car when Dean slammed the door to his own room, moved to make a quick cursory check of Sam's and then moved to the Impala. The set of the older brother's jaw showed his irritation and anger, and Sam ducked his head slightly, one hand going up to massage at his aching throat.

Dean saw the movement, and his agitation grew. He was annoyed with himself at what had happened. How long had Sam been trying to fight against the night hag? He'd always gone by the vain belief that as soon as he found Sam everything would be all right, the attack on his brother was just a painful jerk to reality.

Silently, he started the car, turning up the volume of the music as they pulled away from the motel. It would be a long night, he refused to stop until they got to Jim's or Bobby's, and the loud music was a guarantee that he'd stay awake. He chanced a quick glance to Sam, who was staring out of the passenger window, and winced when he saw the rising bruises that ringed his brother's neck, made a mental note to keep an eye on Sam, the last thing they needed was for the younger Winchester's throat to swell shut.

He reached over to Sam's side, turning his complete attention to the road when he saw his brother flinch back from his hand, but continued to reach forwards, opening the glove compartment and searching sightlessly until his fingers brushed against and curled around the plastic bottle he knew was in there. He pushed it into Sam's hands and then turned to again take the wheel properly.

"There's some Tylenol in the compartment somewhere," he said, nodding his head at the still open glove box. Sam stared at him for a moment, and then slowly reached forwards and searched round, eventually straightening with the small bottle in his hand. He mumbled something that if heard over the music was probably a thank you, Dean nodded his affirmation anyway as Sam knocked back some of the tablets, and then he glanced back at the younger Winchester.

"Get some sleep," he ordered briskly "It'll be about five hours before we get anywhere. You look like crap." Sam opened his mouth, as though to give a reply, but then smirked, and quickly fell asleep.

Dean smirked to himself, throwing his brother a glance every few minutes as he drove along the road.

They'd travelled a good three hours before Sam's head jerked harshly, and a murmur escaped his mouth, Dean glanced at him, but Sam stilled again and his gain returned to the road, Sam whimpered, head lolling down to his chin, causing Dean to again glance carefully at his brother, watching him with one eye carefully for a minute again focusing on the road when Sam made no other moves.

He almost jerked the car into roadside hedge when Sam shouted and his arm shot out to catch Dean across the stomach.

"Hell Sam!" he shouted, pulling the car to the side. His eyes widened, throwing an arm up to block Sam's arm as it again shot out in an attempt to catch Dean across the chest. Sam's head swung harshly, another yell leaping from his throat, though Dean could see that Sam was still very much asleep. He frowned at this, reaching out and turning down the thumping rock tunes, and stopped Sam from again hitting him in his sleep, grabbing his wrist carefully and catching the other one up as it jerked out towards the windscreen. He swore then when Sam's entire body jerked forwards, another shout bursting around the car.

"Sam!" he said loudly "Sammy! Hell Sam, wake up!" His brother's body jerked forwards again, causing Dean to lose a hold on the wrist furthest from him, and Sam's eyes snapped open, his chest heaving with pulling in painful breaths.

"I'm 'wake," Sam muttered hoarsely and with a wince, reminding Dean of his abused throat. His gaze was solidly focused on the dark road before them, a rough cough breaking from his chest.

"So what'd you dream about?" Dean asked, watching his brother carefully

"Lollipops and candy canes," he replied, carefully extracting his wrist from his brother's hand, Dean smirked at the response, shifted back behind the steering wheel, though continued to watch Sam carefully, "So where are we?"

"Somewhere in Iowa," Dean told him, starting the car up again and begin to drive along the road again "We've got another two hours or so. You wanna-"

"I'm not sleeping again," Sam said quietly, shaking his head vehemently. He reached down, searching at his feet until he straightened with the bottle of water in his hands, he shot Dean a quiet smile and turned his head so that he could stare out of the passenger window, refusing to meet Dean's eyes as they drove on.