I just wanted to thank you all again for the reviews! I'm really glad (and relieved) that you like it. :-)

On to the next part . . .

Part 8 - Difficulties

Dean let out a pained gasp as he opened his eyes. He blinked slowly, trying to figure out why his head hurt. His hands were hanging over his head, but resting on something soft. He tried to draw his arms back to his body, but they fell right back, once more hitting the soft object.

Dean's sluggish thoughts finally noted the strangeness in the fact that his arms were falling up.

Though the movement caused his head to pound, Dean looked up.

Jones was sprawled above him, unmoving. Dean's hands were brushing against the other man's shoulder.

How is that possible? It took Dean a moment to realise that he was upside down.

Dean shifted slightly, hissing asthe seatbelt made its presence known.

Well, that explained how he was on the ceiling.

Lawrence ran us off the road.

The thought disturbed Dean, but he didn't have time to ponder it further.

He looked up (or was it down?) to where Jones lay stunned on what had been the vehicle ceiling. The deputy was clearly not dead, and even now showed signs of stirring.

Dean swore and managed to bring his hands up to his seatbelt buckle. He had to get out! He clicked the release, but nothing happened.

Dean shook it and pulled, but his actions only succeeded in making him dizzier.

Jones groaned and shifted.

It was with another curse that Dean remembered his knives. Quickly reaching down to his boot, he pulled out his blade and began sawing through the belt.

Just before it finally gave in, Dean manoeuvred himself so he wouldn't fall on his head. Lowering himself from the seat nearly resulted in the elder Winchester losing his breakfast. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe normally while his stomach righted itself and the burst of pain in his brain receded to a dull throb.

He couldn't concentrate! He needed to get out of the truck – he had to find Sam. He had to move quickly!

Jones moaned again and stirred beside him.

Dean forced himself to lean over and push Jones out of the way so he could access the window. Luckily, it had been open during the crash because the door didn't look like it would be giving way anytime soon.

Dean began to crawl through the narrow hole, almost making it through before a hand grabbed his ankle in a tight grip.

"Going somewhere, kid?" Jones' rasping voice asked. Dean kicked at Jones and pulled his leg free, fighting the feeling of nausea once again rising in him.

He heard Jones curse but had no more time to react as the sound of a gun being cocked reached his ears.

Dean swore as he realised he was out of time. He rolled awkwardly to the side before climbing unsteadily to his feet.

The first bullet missed, but that was all the incentive Dean needed to put as much distance between himself and the armed man as possible.

Dean set off staggering into the woods, the bruises from the seatbelt making themselves known in addition to his pounding skull.

He risked a glance behind him and saw Jones already pulling himself from the car. The deputy rose to his feet with only a slight unsteadiness and took aim once more.

Sam lay on the floor in the backseat of Susan's car. He wished he knew what to do. He pulled again at the handcuffs keeping his hands behind his back. They didn't give, but then again, he knew they wouldn't.

He needed to get to Dean. He only hoped his brother wasn't already dead.

He couldn't see where they were, but he knew they must be close to the grove by now. Time was running out.

"Susan?" Sam spoke softly, not wanting to agitate the armed lady any further. "You really don't have to do this."

"If the police find out what Stuart did, he'll go to jail," Susan replied nervously, "and so will I."

"You can tell them you were afraid of your fiancé," Sam reasoned. "Tell them he made you help him. You will not be doing yourself any favours by adding two more deaths to your conscience."

"Just be quiet," Susan stated firmly. "I'm done talking to you, Sam. You seem like a nice kid, but I'm done."

There was silence for a moment as neither person knew what to do.

Susan broke the quiet. "Oh my God . . ."

Sam heard the horror in her voice and struggled to sit up. "What is it? What's happening?"

Susan pulled the car over, turning it off before climbing out. "You stay here," she ordered firmly, removing the keys from the ignition. "I still have the gun and I have very good aim."

She locked the doors behind her before crossing out of Sam's view.

The younger Winchester finally managed to pull himself onto the backseat so he could see out the window. What he saw made his blood run cold.

The deputy's truck lay on its roof, the tires spinning lazily in the air.

Dean was in that car . . .

Sam turned and found the door handle with his cuffed hands. He fumbled for the lock button. He clicked it, and then tried the door.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, Sam tried again. It was with a frustrated groan that he finally saw the sticker on the other window advertising the child safety locks on the back doors.

He cursed vehemently and turned to climb over the seat into the front, but he was out of time. Susan had returned.

She unlocked the doors, pointing her gun at Sam as she opened the driver's side door. "Get back on the floor, Sam," she said shakily.

"Susan! Was he in there?" Sam asked desperately. "My brother! Was he in the car?"

Susan shuddered and took a trembling breath. "No one was in there."

Sam let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. "We have to find them. Susan, this can't happen! You can't let Stuart kill my brother!"

"I told you before, Sam. I have no choice." Her eyes hardened. "Now get down before I have to shoot you."

Sam held her gaze before moving to comply.

He fought back a feeling of helplessness as the car started once more. What was he going to do?