Hi everyone! Hope you're all doing well! Enjoy!

Afternoon, January 1st, 2006
Pender Home

The morning had passed pleasantly enough. Parades, football, enough food to feed an army, and, finally, a couple young men with appropriate appetites. Tommy had actually watched the exact moment when the realization crossed Arla's face that maybe raising twin girls had been a lot easier on the grocery budget than raising two boys would have been. He knew she'd begun to wonder if maybe she'd set out too much food, but as the day had progressed and the boys had enthusiastically devoured everything she set before them, her worry had changed to wondering if she had enough food. That enough food for a party involving five or six middle aged adults might actually not be enough for two guys in their twenties who hadn't eaten a good meal in at least a week, if not longer.

It wasn't until mid afternoon when Tommy picked up on the fact that not everything was as perfect as it might have seemed on the surface. The signs had been there all along, of course, but it wasn't until Dean had dozed off that Tommy saw the signs for what they were.

Someone was ready to run.

He might not have the whole story or really understand everything the Winchester's had been through in their lives, but he knew what it was like to feel trapped and he certainly remembered being young and thinking the entire world was out to get him. In his case, it hadn't been true of course, but given the nature of their occupation, Tommy couldn't dismiss the possibility that maybe a lot of things were out to get Dean and Sam Winchester. And that would be enough to make him want to run, let alone losing his girlfriend, going through what he'd been through in the past week, and apparently searching desperately for a missing father. So when he caught Sam hovering at the sliding glass door, fingertips just barely touching the handle, he made his decision.

He'd wondered how things would play out and what his response should be after they did. Sam had been restless but hiding it from his brother all day. Not that hiding things from Dean took any great skill set today. He'd been awake most of the day, but barely so and just out of it enough to not apparently be picking up on what was going on with Sam. Although, Tommy wouldn't be surprised if Dean did notice, but just was letting it ride for the time being either because he was too sick to address it or if he just knew it was best to let his brother deal with things his own way.

Sam was feeling better, looking better, and Tommy quietly cleared his plan with Arla before grabbing the kid's jacket and his own. He joined Sam at the door and said, "Sam, I need to take a walk. Stretch my legs before the next game."

He got a slightly confused, curious look and he just grinned, "Besides I need to work off some of the food before Arla cooks up anything else."

This time, a smile. Sam nodded, hand dropping away from the door handle. He hadn't apparently noticed yet that Tommy had his jacket in his hand. Sam said, "I've never had so much home cooking."

"Well, I'm glad you boys are here to help me eat it. I think I've already gained ten pounds just today." Tommy said, holding out Sam's coat. Sam stared at it with a frown. He was feeling better, sure, but Tommy knew he wasn't anywhere near back to full strength. Pushing the coat at Sam, Tommy said, "Come take a walk. Weather's nice. Beautiful day. Fresh air'll do ya good."

As expected, Sam's gaze slid immediately to the recliner where his brother was sleeping the sleep of the dead; or the sleep of one with a very full stomach. Either way he didn't seem likely to stir for a long time. And they still had an hour or so before the big game. Sam seemed to muddle through all of those thoughts himself before nodding and finally accepting the coat. Which was a relief. Tommy honestly hadn't been sure that he'd be agreeable to the plan.

Tommy slid the door open and Sam followed. The day was beautiful and he'd been careful to check the weather to ensure that it intended to stay that way. Arla had made him promise that they wouldn't go far or be gone long and he'd never intended anything to the contrary. A quick walk to the creek and back should be enough to work out some of the nervous tension without exhausting Sam too much. Tommy didn't initiate a conversation. At least not yet. Last thing he wanted was for Sam to feel like this was a trap to get him to talk. But it only took about a minute before Sam spoke up.

"How much land do you guys have out here? It's beautiful."

"Thanks. We've got about ten acres. Creek runs through it. Good fishing spot." Tommy said, "You boys fish?"

"Sometimes." Sam nodded. "It's something we could do almost anywhere we traveled."

"I've got the gear if you want to catch supper when Dean's feeling up to it."

Sam smiled, "Sounds good. Dean isn't exactly the quiet type, but he does sit still for fishing. I figure by tomorrow he's going to need a distraction. I don't see him sitting on the couch quietly much longer. If I'm going to keep him quiet long enough to really heal, fishing might be the right trick. We'll probably head out in another day or so."

Tommy wasn't surprised, not that he was happy about it. He said, "You know you boys are welcome to stay as long as you want? I'm not just saying that because it's the polite thing to say. You saved our lives, and maybe the whole town in the long run."

"I'm pretty sure you saved our lives too," Sam smiled, "so we're even. And I, we, appreciate it. Your hospitality and everything...I really…" He paused, shaking his head before he finished, "I really didn't know what we were going to do that night."

"Thankfully, Raquel did." Tommy said quickly.

Sam said, "We've never had a ghost save our lives before."

"I've never even seen a ghost before." Tommy countered.

"First time for everything." Sam shrugged.

"I guess so. Do you guys have business cards or something? I'd like to know I can get ahold of you if anything else evil and monstrous shows up in town."

Sam laughed, "Well, we can give you our phone numbers, but we don't exactly pass out business cards."

They paused at the little hill that stood over the creek. It hadn't been a long walk, but Tommy was still relieved that Sam didn't look winded or in any pain from the trip. His shoulders and posture were relaxed and the strain that had been evident on his face earlier had disappeared. Even when he spoke again, he sounded better.

"We don't really have...any cash or…"

"We already covered this, Sam." Tommy interrupted. "We're even. Look at it anyway you want, that this is your payment for ridding our town of monsters, that it's a Christmas gift, whatever. You two owe us nothing but recovering your health and getting back out there to do what you do."

Sam studied him for a moment and Tommy could tell he was trying to come to grips with what Tommy was offering. He finally nodded and said, "Thank you."

Tommy said, "We'll even get the tank of that car of yours filled up again before you leave."

At that, Sam grimaced. He said, "I should probably wash it." He looked deep in thought for a moment, then said, "I should wash it tomorrow. Would that be ok?"

"Absolutely." Tommy said. "I have all the supplies. Like to keep Arla's Mustang looking beautiful."

"Could we just...keep it between us?" Sam asked with a sideways glance.

"Sure." Tommy nodded, "Late Christmas present?"

Sam nodded, "I don't have...we don't really do Christmas most of the time."

"I'm sure Dean will appreciate it." Tommy said, not wanting to dwell on the rather dismal turn the conversation had taken. It was just a guess, of course, but he couldn't help but assume that the reason they didn't really do Christmas had more to do with their crazy lifestyle than it did a personal preference. He'd heard the note of carefully disguised sadness in Sam's voice.

"Have you lived here long?" Sam asked, apparently eager to move on to other topics. He was walking closer to the creek.

"Lived in town my whole life. We've owned this property since we got married. Raised the girls here." Tommy said, but decided to keep the conversation moving because it looked like the idea of having a permanent home like that was both a foreign concept and a sore spot for Sam. So he said, "Arla is the traveler. Her dad was in the military and she moved all around the country, the world actually, as a kid. She was never in the same place for more than a few months sometimes."

Sam nodded with a smile, "I know that feeling. How did you two meet?"

"Dumb luck and Spring Break." Tommy grinned.

"Pretty sure those two always go hand in hand," Sam laughed, "You sound like Dean. When he was younger...man, I swear Spring Break was a national holiday to him. Actually, it probably still is."

"It was to me." Tommy said a bit ruefully, thinking of a youth misspent. He grinned, "But then my dumb luck kicked in and it was the best Spring Break of my life."

"What happened?"

"I fell out a window."

Sam's eyes widened and he was fighting the urge to laugh again. He asked, "And that made it a good Spring Break how?"

"Because when my drunk buddies finally stopped laughing and realized I was bleeding all over that Panama City street, they called an ambulance." Tommy took a deep breath and couldn't help it if his smile grew a bit sappy. "Most beautiful resident in the entire world was working in the ER that night and stitched me back together while lambasting me the entire time about what a world-class idiot I was."

"Wasn't impressed with you?" Sam smiled, shaking his head.

"I don't think she was impressed with my shameless flirting either. Hate to malign your brother's skills, son, but I saw him flirting back at the hospital, and I have to say, he needs more practice." Tommy laughed.

Sam smiled, but then, with pride that only a little brother could muster, said defensively, "Dean did get three nurses' phone numbers, you know?"

"I took Arla out to a bar ten minutes after she finished my stitches and I've taken her home every single night since." Tommy couldn't hide his proud grin.

This time Sam slowly nodded, an expression of awe on his face. He said, "Please don't teach Dean your methods, ok? He doesn't need any encouragement in this realm."

"On my honor as a man of the law." Tommy nodded.

"I actually met Jessica sort of the same way." Sam said, looking away.

Tommy remained quiet, sensing that this wasn't an easy thing for Sam to talk about.

"A friend of mine, Brady, he set us up, but I hadn't actually met her yet." Sam smiled a bit, "Until I had to take another friend to the campus health center because he'd...he'd been an idiot and needed stitches too actually."

"Wasn't Spring Break, was it?" Tommy grinned.

Sam smiled, "No. He got into way more trouble over Spring Break, but thankfully, I hadn't gone on that trip with him. Anyway, student nurses worked there as part of their clinical experiences and well….I didn't know it was the same girl Brady had set me up with until later...but Jessica was there."

"Chewed your friend out?"

"Actually...she was too busy flirting with me to even pay any attention to Louis." Sam's smile widened at the memory. "I kept trying to tell her he was bleeding but all she did was hand him a piece of gauze. I'm honestly not sure she even looked at him the entire time. And she just kept talking to me. She was… amazing."

Nodding, he remained quiet as Sam's gaze returned to the creek; his smile slowly fading away. After a few silent minutes, Tommy was debating whether he should say anything or just stay quiet. Sam saved him from having to decide when he spoke up, "The house is starting to look a long way away."

He smiled, hearing the fatigue in Sam's voice, and said, "Then let's head back before it gets any further away."

"Probably a good idea." Sam returned the smile.

It might have been a short walk, but from what Tommy could see, in at least a small way, it had done Sam some good. And that made it worthwhile. He clapped Sam on the shoulder and said, "Who do you bet is doing more worrying back in the house? Dean or Arla?"

"Definitely Dean." Sam grinned.

And Tommy really didn't doubt it.

Arla finished the dishes and peeked out into the living room. She saw the TV channels flipping and knew Dean was awake. He hadn't dozed long and a quick glance at the time showed her that Tommy and Sam hadn't been gone very long either. When Tommy had initially suggested taking Sam for a walk, she honestly hadn't been sure if it were a good idea or not. But then she'd seen Sam standing there by the door, looking for all the world like a lost puppy and she knew her husband probably had a point about the kid needing to get out for a little while. He did look better and she knew it wouldn't be long before they'd both be on the road again.

So she needed to count her blessings that they were even taking any time at all to recover. She grabbed a cup of coffee, a glass of water and headed out into the living room. Dean glanced up at her as she entered. She smiled and held out the cup. "Water?"

Dean grimaced but took the cup. He muttered, "Still waiting on my beer."

Arla laughed, sitting down on the couch. She said, "And you'll get it. Another day or so and we'll take you boys out to the local burger joint. How's that sound?"

"Awesome." Dean nodded, taking a sip of water. He set the glass aside and asked, "Seen my brother lately? Seems to have wandered off again."

He tried to sound like it wasn't a big deal, even went back to flipping channels, but she knew he was probably worrying that Sam was feeling worse. She sipped her coffee, then said, "Tommy and Sam went for a walk."

"A walk?" Dean repeated, eyes wide as if taking a walk were the strangest thing he could possibly envision his brother doing. "You live in the middle of nowhere. Where'd they walk to?"

Arla couldn't help but smile. He really didn't seem to have a clue. She said, "You ever just talk a walk, Dean? Not to go anywhere, just to enjoy the journey?"

Dean frowned and said, "Mostly I'm always going places."

"I thought so. You should take a walk now and then." Arla suggested, "Great way to clear your mind."

He gave her words a little thought, then asked, "You got any more of those little cheesy biscuit thingies?"

"I do."

"And maybe a couple of those…"

"Little sausage thingies?" Arla supplied, amused to no end at how his mind worked. Brother. Food. Apparently in that order at all times. She wondered if he'd even remember her suggesting a walk.

"Yeah. Those." Dean grinned.

She headed to the kitchen and filled a plate with snacks, encouraged that he was still eating. His color was better, his breathing easier and she couldn't deny the relief she felt. Because there had honestly been moments when she hadn't been sure he was going to pull through. Now, though, handing him the plate and watching him devour the snacks with enthusiasm, the nightmare of the week felt like a distant memory. And she was thrilled that she was able to see both boys feeling well. Most of the personality she'd been able to see even when they'd been so sick was now fully on display and she honestly liked them both.

Which was its own issue, of course, because already she was struggling with the thought that they wouldn't be here much longer. She could almost hear Tommy's words in her head, comparing her to a kid who found a puppy and wanted to keep it. This was much different than a stray puppy though! The life that she knew they were returning to was enough to terrify her.

"These are amazing!" Dean said, mouth full.

Arla smiled, pushing the dark thoughts away. She said, "I'm glad you like them."

"You're a good cook."

"Thanks."

"It's gonna be hard to go back to crappy diner food after all this." Dean said around another mouthful.

"I'm sure." She nodded, "You do know you're welcome to stay as long as…"

"I know." Dean interrupted, growing somber. "And I appreciate all of it but I think," he sighed, "I don't know how much longer Sam's gonna be willing to stay put. Since...since Jessica, he's been really restless. And we do need to get back out there."

"To fight monsters?"

Dean smiled a little and said, "And find our Dad. We...we're hoping he's gonna be able to help us figure out what happened to Jessica."

Arla said, "I understand. Stay as long as you're able, though, ok? And you boys are always welcome here if you're ever back in the area."

"We're ever back this way, we'll drop in." Dean smiled.

Arla knew he meant it, but she also knew that the chances were very slim that she'd ever see them again. She said, "But you two need to promise me you'll take care of yourselves, ok? You aren't going to be all the way recovered from this for awhile. You feel better, I know, but your reserves are low and you're both going to need to take it easy for a long time."

He opened his mouth, to protest, no doubt, but she cut him off and said, "I know your job doesn't exactly give you sick days. But you'll save a lot more people from the monsters under their beds if you two are alive and well enough to do it. So just promise me. Promise me that you'll try. That's all I ask."

She couldn't help it if the mother in her was coming out. If anyone needed some mothering, it was these two boys. Dean didn't seem annoyed, though. He simply nodded and said with sincerity, "We'll take it easy. Promise."

"Thank you." She smiled, realizing he'd finished everything on his plate. Once they left, she wouldn't be able to do anything for the Winchester brothers except pray for them daily. Which she fully intended to do. Because if anyone needed someone to pray for them, it was these two boys. But for now, for now she could feed them. So she stood up and asked, "Pie?"

"Yes." Dean grinned.

Arla headed for the kitchen.

Evening

Dean could think of a dozen ways it could be better.

It could be better if he and Sam were feeling 100%. If Jessica was sitting next to Sammy, making his brother smile. Heck, if Mom and Dad were here too. Despite all the ways it could be better, it wasn't so bad. He couldn't honestly remember the last time New Year's had felt like a party. Probably back when they'd both still been teenagers. But it felt like a party tonight. Great food, a great football game, and great company.

The fact that they were totally imposing on a couple of strangers didn't even bother him right now. Dean grinned. How could it? The team they'd all agreed to root for was winning and Sam was smiling, laughing, and generally looking more alive than he had since ten minutes before Jessica had died. Dean was under no illusions. Because they were going to have to get back on the road and reality was right there; always ready to steal back the few moments of joy that they tried to steal for themselves.

Right now, though, for this moment, he was going to choose to dwell in the moment instead of thinking about what was inevitably to come. He watched Sam laugh at something Tommy had said and couldn't help but wonder what their lives might have been like if not for the death of their Mom. He liked to think Sam might have had a better relationship with Dad. One filled with humor and support rather than pressure and hurt. Dean smiled wryly. Of course, maybe they always would have been at odds. But he couldn't help watching how relaxed Sam was with Tommy and think that, had things been different, he and Dad might be able to sit back and enjoy a game without butting heads about everything.

He felt something bounce off his face and he caught Sam's eye. Sam frowned a bit, wordlessly asking You ok? Dean grinned and nodded. Sam looked relieved and went back to arguing defensive strategies with Arla. Dean picked up the piece of popcorn Sam had launched at him, popped it into his mouth and told himself to take the night off from thinking. From worrying. From anything that wasn't simply enjoying the evening. He was almost surprised by how good it felt and how easy it was. The year was probably going to suck as bad as every other year had.

But he couldn't remember the last one that had started off as well as this one was.

10:00 AM January 2nd, 2006
Pender Home

Sam stood back and critically appraised the Impala. Nothing short of perfect was going to work for Dean. He took a deep breath, rag dripping in his hand as he walked around the car. For the fifth time. And he was only getting started. Never mind he'd been out here almost two hours already. Rubbing a hand over his forehead, he decided the entire left side of the car needed another once over. It had been years since he'd tried to detail the car to Dean's high standards. Somehow it felt even more important this time since he had literally nothing else he could offer his brother as a Christmas present.

As a thank you for all the subtle, understated ways Dean had been holding him together for the past few months.

Sometimes he wasn't sure Dean really knew how much he'd missed him while he'd been at Stanford. And since they didn't talk about stuff like that, an impeccably clean and sparkly car was going to have to say what Sam couldn't.

He probably needed to go over the windshield again, too.

11:20 AM

"Now where is he?" Dean asked as soon as he walked into the living room.

He'd slept till eleven without any disturbance, including coughing spells. While it felt great, it also had left his brother time to disappear and probably find all kinds of trouble. Arla smiled and set aside the newspaper she was reading as he walked over toward her.

"Good morning to you too." She said.

"Morning." Dean said, trying to put aside his annoyance at missing brothers.

"Your brother is outside and as soon as you have some breakfast and take your pills, you are more than welcome to join him."

Dean dropped into a chair because her tone had made it very clear that he had no option but to heed her request...order. He asked, "What is he doing?"

Arla handed him a plate that she must have had waiting for him all this time and said, "Eat your breakfast, Dean Winchester and then you can go find out."

Which seemed oddly and unnecessarily vague, Dean thought, eating under duress while Arla went back to her newspaper. He finished in record time, trying to remind himself that he was a grown man and was under no obligation to obey Arla Pender. But there was something about the way she was watching him with those eagle-mom eyes of hers that made him finish every last bite and take his pills like a little kid finishing the chores before being allowed to go outside to play.

He would've sworn she was enjoying it.

Finishing up, he said a hasty thanks and headed for the sliding glass doors.

"Put your coat on." Arla called without looking up. "And he's out front."

Dean groaned but snagged his coat as he headed for the front door. He really didn't think it was at all necessary to be kept in the dark like this. Annoyed, he stood on the front steps until he heard a muffled cough and some mumbling from the left. Stepping around the garage, Dean's eyes widened and he blinked a few times just to make sure what he was seeing was actually real.

Because that was the cleanest and shiniest his baby had looked in ages.

The sun was bright and hitting all the curves and chrome just right. He'd planned to get her into a car wash soon, but looked like he didn't have to worry about it anymore. He realized he was just standing there gaping at his car when Sam's head popped up from the far side of the car. Sam was frowning, deep in concentration, but when he caught sight of Dean, he smiled, maybe a bit nervously, Dean thought.

"Sam? What are you doing?"

It was an inane thing to say and the amused smile that lit Sam's face told Dean that his brother thought it had been a stupid thing to say too. Sam wiped what had to be an invisible spot off the front of the car and said, "Merry Christmas."

"I'm not sure she's ever looked this good, Sammy." Dean said, grinning and taking a walk around the car. He hadn't been joking and he could see the relief in Sam's eyes. As if he actually had been thinking that somehow the car wasn't going to measure up to Dean's expectations. "Thanks, man, she looks amazing."

"No problem." Sam said, looking a bit embarrassed as he stepped back and let Dean continue his examination.

"Seriously, Sam. Thanks." Dean repeated, catching his brother's gaze. "You didn't have to…"

"I know."

"How long you been out here?" Sam shrugged evasively which told Dean he'd been out here a long time. Frowning, Dean asked, "How'd you get past the warden?"

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes, "Dean. Don't call her that."

"Ah, but see, you knew who I was talking about."

Sam just shook his head and walked over to a bench against the wall of the garage, facing the car. Dean followed him with the suspicion that maybe his overachiever of a little brother had quite possibly overdone it. Sam sank down onto the bench in a way that told Dean he didn't necessarily intend to move from the spot for a good long while. He looked a bit pale and tired but otherwise alright, so Dean kept his mouth shut. Because he didn't want Sam asking him how he felt.

So instead, he just sat down next to Sam and stared at the car. Then he decided it was probably a suitably appropriate time. He pulled a scrap of crumpled paper out of his jeans pocket and tossed it at Sam. And then he leaned over and picked it up off the ground and handed it to his brother whose reaction time clearly still sucked.

"What's this?" Sam asked, sounding as tired as he suddenly looked. He raised an eyebrow, not bothering to open the crumpled paper. "Your gum?"

"Yes, moron, my gum." Dean rolled his eyes, "Just open it."

Sam did so and Dean enjoyed the expression of confusion that appeared on his face. He knew that a paper filled with a bunch of dates, more than half of them crossed off would provide him an amusing moment of waiting for his brother to try to puzzle through what the heck they meant. And Sam puzzled a lot longer than he'd expected him to. Probably because he was still not firing with all his college-educated synapses.

Finally, Sam looked up and asked, "What is this supposed to be?"

"Those are the dates we have to choose from."

"For what?" Sam frowned, looking back at the dates.

"For the games we want to go to." Dean said, "The ones crossed out are the ones I sold the tickets for. I figured we weren't going to make it to that many games, so might as well get a little cash. And we're up almost five hundred bucks!"

Sam was staring at him like he'd grown two additional heads.

Dean laughed and said, "Gotta love the internet, man. I found this website and people were just begging for tickets."

"Tickets to what?" Sam asked, still clearly hung up on the ticket thing.

"The Jayhawks." Dean said, grinning smugly, "Those are season tickets."

"Season…" Sam broke off, frowning at the scribbled dates, then back up at Dean, "What do you mean season tickets?"

"You know? Tickets for the whole season? I mean, they're only the second half of the season season tickets, but what can I say? Was lucky to win those." Dean could almost hear the wheels grinding to an absolute halt in Sam's head. He decided it was time to put his concussed brother out of his misery. He said, "A few weeks ago, I checked out this online poker thing…"

"Online poker?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, kinda lame. But I beat this guy in Kansas and won the second half of his season tickets." Dean grinned. Sam shook his head, glancing back at the dates. Dean went on, "Figured we could make it to a few of the games anyway. Decided to make some cash off the others so I went online last night after you went to bed."

"Five hundred bucks?" Sam asked, still processing oh so much more slowly than usual.

Dean nodded, "Yep. We are no longer broke, little brother. So...you know, Merry Christmas or whatever."

Sam stared at the paper, smoothing it out with extreme care. Dean wished he knew what was going through his brother's head. Sometimes he knew exactly what Sam was thinking, other times it was like he was a complete stranger. He'd hoped that this would be a decent, if somewhat lacking Christmas present. He'd also been crossing his fingers that Sam wasn't so far gone with grief that he wouldn't be interested in having a little fun now and then. As the silence stretched on, Dean started feeling more uncomfortable and like maybe, just maybe Stanford had changed Sam more than he'd even realized.

Then Sam spoke again and Dean realized it hadn't been disappointment or disapproval; the long silence had merely been his brother analyzing the dates and making plans. Sam said, "We can probably make it to several games if we do it right. Might have to drive a bit..."

"Dude, we drove like a thousand miles for that Ozzy show." Dean grinned, feeling like everything was right in the world again. "I'd drive two days for a Jayhawks game."

"Well depending on where we end up, we might have to." Sam returned his smile then added softly, "So...maybe don't sell any more of the tickets. For awhile anyway...just in case…"

Just in case we can make it to more of these games. Just in case we can be normal a few times this year and go to a game like a couple of regular brothers. Just so we can pretend there's hope.

Dean nodded, falling silent. He didn't really want to have to bring up the idea of leaving, although he knew it was on Sam's mind too. Instead he watched with a growing sense of peace as Sam neatly folded the crumpled piece of paper and carefully put it in his pocket like it mattered. Like it was the best Christmas present he'd ever received. Maybe things weren't as broken as they sometimes seemed, Dean decided. Sam rested his head back against the wall and stared at the sparkling Impala. Dean copied his pose and, man, did it feel good to just sit still and have nowhere to be and nothing to do.

6:30 PM January 2nd, 2006
Pender Home

Arla had been prepared to suggest a trip to town for burgers, but by mid-afternoon, she'd rethought her plan, and by late evening, she was glad she had. Because as the day had progressed, their energy levels had petered out. What surprised her, though, was that, instead of making either boy frustrated, they seemed to be taking it in stride for once. They allowed her to wait on them hand and foot while they dozed in front of the TV.

And she'd enjoyed it.

The pressure was off and she could concentrate on what she did best; take care of people. So she gave them their medications, filled their plates and patched the holes in their jeans. There would be precious little she could do for them once they went back out on the road again, so she was determined to do whatever she could in the mean time. Which was part of the reason she was glad when Tommy walked into the room a few minutes after she'd finished the mending. She checked to see that the boys were still sitting on the couch, although she could hear them talking.

Or arguing. Arla listened closely and realized they were definitely arguing about something. But she wasn't going to get into the middle of that, so she just pulled the bedroom door closed and asked, "How'd it go?"

Tommy smiled and said, "Mission accomplished." he patted his pocket and said, "Did you doubt me?"

"Not for a minute." Arla said, giving him a quick kiss. She accepted the small package he pulled from his pocket, already excited about her surprise plan. What the boys didn't know, they couldn't very well turn down...

"Sounded like things were getting heated out there." Tommy said, as she spread out his purchases on the bed.

"I know. They're still under a lot of pressure."

"Any idea what they're arguing about?"

"No. None of our business."

"They been arguing all afternoon?"

"No. It just started."

Tommy shrugged, "They're brothers. They're gonna argue."

Arla nodded. She could hear the raised voices now. She had to smile, "Remind you of anything?"

"The girls argued louder." Tommy shuddered dramatically.

She had to laugh too because he was absolutely right. When the twins had argued, she'd honestly been surprised none of the neighbors had ever complained about the ruckus. She said, "I'm sure they're trying to be polite. Amy and Sara could yell all they wanted. They lived here."

Tommy sat on the edge of the bed and said, "Speaking of which, Sara texted. She wants you to give her a call. Something about asparagus or pumpkins or something."

"Well, I'm glad you paid attention, dear." Arla rolled her eyes and reached for the phone. She said, "You stay put, mister. Give them a minute out there."

"You don't want me to referee?" He sank back down, almost disappointed.

"I want you to leave them alone."

Tommy laid back on the bed and groaned, "I don't wanna listen to you talk about vegetables."

"You could clean the bathroom."

"Vegetables it is."

6:30 PM January 2nd, 2006
Pender Home

The day had started off so well but gone downhill gradually and seemingly irreversibly. It stood to reason, of course, that since they both still felt like crap, they were bound to be more touchy than normal. Not that they didn't have a way of biting each other's heads off on a good day. Nevertheless, the lingering illness had frayed nerves that they hadn't even noticed had been wearing thin. Dean decided that being sick was as good as any reason out there for the argument they'd gotten into not ten minutes after they'd awakened from yet another nap and gone to the kitchen for food.

It had been petty, pointless and he'd started it. Which made everything worse because at least if Sam had been the one who started it, Dean could have stood back in righteous indignation and let his brother feel bad for being a jerk. But, no, he'd started it this time and Sam had gone out the back door in a huff, leaving Dean standing at the table, feeling like a jerk.

He cursed. This was not how it was supposed to go.

His only consolation was that the Pender's were in another room and weren't around to witness the argument. Or the aftermath. Staring out the sliding glass door, Dean shook his head as he watched Sam stomp down the porch steps. And then he was rushing for the door because he couldn't see Sam anymore and he really should have been able to and if he couldn't that probably meant…

Sam was on the ground.

"Sam!" Dean's heart was in his throat because the sight of his brother at the bottom of a flight of steps only brought up really bad memories. He gripped the rail tightly, not feeling any too steady himself, and half-stumbled down the steps. "Sam, talk to me!"

"Thought you didn't want me to talk to you." Sam muttered irritably. Just because he was flat on his back in the grass didn't apparently mean he'd forgotten or forgiven anything yet.

Dean couldn't care less about the argument at this point. He hit his knees next to his brother, hands hovering as he visually searched for the injuries he was sure were there somewhere. "Did you fall? Did you hit your head? Sam? What happened? "

Sam glared at him, but said, "I just needed...to sit down…"

"Sit down?"

"Ok, lie down." Sam pressed a hand to his eyes and sighed, "I'm fine."

"Whatever." Dean said, irritation flaring again as the panic began to ebb. "Such a drama queen. There's a couch and bed inside. Let's go."

But when Dean reached out to grab Sam and drag him back inside, he was surprised to find Sam's hand on his arm first. Sam groaned, rolling to his side, fingers digging into Dean's arm as he mumbled, "Gonna be sick…"

"Don't you dare. Don't you even dare." Dean ordered, seeing the color fade from Sam's face and the painful swallowing start up. They were so not starting this again. Not happening.

Sam tried to snap his arm in half and the irritation and panic flip-flopped again and Dean knew panic was going to win because seeing his little brother crumpled on the ground, squeezing his arm so much it actually hurt was so not a good way to end the day. And the fact that it was his own fault made it even worse. Dean turned his head away to cough against his shoulder, then looked back at Sam, noting with relief that the pained squint of his eyes had relaxed somewhat. He sat down heavily next to him.

Bleary eyes blinked up at him, and Dean was annoyed to see concern there despite the misery. Sam whispered, "You ok?"

"Me? I'm fine. I've been sitting on my ass watching tv for the past three days." Dean snapped, "You, on the other hand, haven't sat still since yesterday. I don't even know what the heck you've been doing other than cleaning the car. Which, again, thank you for that, you stupid stubborn idiot. But you pushed too hard. I knew you were gonna do that, stupid stubborn idiot…"

"Learned from the best." Sam said and actually had the nerve to smile.

Dean sighed heavily. It was hard to stay angry when his brother had a point and they both knew it. Shaking his head, he said, "Sam. What happened?"

"Got dizzy." Sam mumbled, closing his eyes; his iron grip on Dean's arm finally relaxing. "Ground just came up kinda fast."

"Shouldn't've gone running out the door."

"Shouldn't've given me a reason to. Jerk."

"I know." The I'm sorry got stuck in his throat. Even if he meant it, saying it out loud after he'd just made a fool of himself by running out the door in a panic felt like overkill.

"Maybe we should stay...at least another day." Sam said so softly that Dean had to strain to catch his words.

Dean nodded. The pressure was building, the tension, the knowledge that Dad was out there somewhere and they really needed to get back on the road. But the simple fact was, they were still sick. He knew that neither of them were up to it yet. Hearing Sam admit that he wasn't ready to get back on the road was enough to quiet the raging worry in his gut; the worry that Sam was going to lose it if they didn't get back out there to avenge Jessica right this very minute.

If Sam wasn't ready, then they weren't ready.

"So you gonna stay on the grass?" Dean asked, rubbing his chest as he coughed again. Somehow the coughing, the fact his voice was tired and soft and the fact he himself was sitting in the grass without making any indication he intended to move made his snarky comment seem very lame.

Sam was already pushing himself upright and didn't look any worse for wear. He said, "I think we better get off the grass before someone finds out and grounds us."

"Like you know what it means to be grounded…" Dean scoffed, pulling on the porch railing to get himself to his feet.

"Dad didn't have to ground me," Sam said, already halfway up the stairs, "because I did my homework, ate my vegetables…"

"Spaghettios don't count as vegetables…" Dean griped, annoyed that he'd come running outside, worrying about his brother only to now be the one left behind. He was finding going back up the stairs a lot more difficult than going down had been.

"Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Y'alright?"

"Mm hm."

"Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Open your eyes man, you're gonna fall over."

Dean blinked, not even remembering closing his eyes. He also didn't remember Sam's grip on his arm or his own death grip on the railing. Felt like the world was swaying and he could commiserate with Sam about feeling dizzy. He tried to move forward, up another step, but couldn't move. Because something big and heavy was blocking his path. Dean glared at Sam.

Sam just shook his head, and leaned against the railing as he said, "Take a minute to catch your breath, ok? You were hyperventilating."

Since he couldn't remember exactly what had happened, Dean just did as he was told because he didn't feel up to fighting his brother at the moment. It took a little while, but finally they had both recovered enough to make it up the stairs. A quick glance into the house showed him no sign of Arla or Tommy and Dean was thankful. Because the last thing he needed was Arla wondering what they'd been up to.

"Think we can make it back inside without them noticing we were missing?" Sam whispered.

The slightly guilty expression Sam had on his face made Dean think of the time they'd snuck out as teens to go to a party. Sam had been fifteen and way too young to be going but he'd caught Dean sneaking out and, despite the fact he typically would have preferred to stay home and read his history book, for some reason he'd insisted on coming. Dean hadn't been thrilled about having a kid brother along when he'd been planning to hook up with Leanna Lawrence. Or Judy Barber. Or both. Which he didn't end up doing.

Because they'd found a pool table in the basement and he and Sam had played game after game by themselves until 3 in the morning. And Dean hadn't even given one single thought to Leanna or Judy the entire time. He'd concentrated on teaching Sammy every trick he knew and watched with pride as his nerdy kid brother had finally started beating him as the night went on.

They'd stumbled back to the apartment and run straight into Dad. Dean had been ready with a good story; one Dad might even have bought despite there being no way he couldn't have smelled the beer on both of them. But before Dean could professionally lay out the story, Sam had broken under the pressure of one glance from Dad. And Dean could do nothing but stand there and listen in horror as Sam answered Dad's question of where had they been.

Sam had simply blurted out, "We were walking the dog, sir."

Dean had wanted to sink through the floor. Walking the dog? The dog they didn't own? It had been about the dumbest thing Sam could have said at almost four in the morning as he stood there, slightly inebriated, wide-eyed, and melting under Dad's laser glare. Prepared for the worst, Dean had just about fallen over when Dad glanced from Sam to him and back again, then snorted and said, "Dog goes out middle of the night again, I'm gonna shoot him. Understood?"

They had both nodded, said yessir and run for the bedroom before Dad could shoot either of them on the spot.

His thoughts drawn back to the present, Dean saw the little bit of fear in Sam's eyes and he couldn't help it. He laughed. Sam looked at him like he was crazy, but all Dean said was, "Just tell 'em we were walking the dog, Sammy."

And when Sam busted out laughing, Dean had a feeling that they were going to be just fine.

Hope you enjoyed! I still refuse to predict how many more chapters there will be because last time I tried...well we all know how that turned out (six chapters later) lol! But we are drawing toward a conclusion. They're mostly patched back together and hey, they gotta get to Toledo and save poor Charlie (not Bradbury, the other one lol) from Bloody Mary!

Have a great weekend everyone! Thank you for reading. :)