Series: It Must Be Tuesday

Title: Straight on 'Til Morning

Rating: PG

Summary: The immediate aftermath of the apocalypse. Sam, Dean, and River try to make it to Haven alive.

Characters: Sam, Dean, and River Tam and some surprise appearances
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine but the idea/plot is.

Monday: 28 days after the start of the apocalypse.
Location: Nebraska

Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, partly bored, mostly trying to resist turning the volume up. Acres of scorched cornfields were beginning to get on his nerves and he desperately need a distraction but the last time he tried to turn the volume up, Sam reached over and smacked his hand away. It was followed by a jerk of the head to the backseat and Dean would glance at the rear view mirror to look at the sleeping girl curled up in her slip of a dress, the clunky boots on her feet a sharp contrast. Delicate looking.

Delicate, he thought, head aching in memory. Yeah right.

The fires burning in the dead fields they pass every now and then keeps everything dark. The headlights can only light so much and Dean has daymares of suddenly coming up on a gang of demons and it would already be too late to do anything. Sam wakes up in the middle of the night while he sips cold coffee and asks if he wants him to take the wheel for awhile, get some sleep but Dean shakes his head. Can't take care of their little family – when the hell did River become family? – if he's dead to the world.

They don't stop if they don't have to. Gas stations and empty town grocery stores are always a rest place and sometimes they'll crash in an abandoned house but Dean can't sleep so he sits on the couch, shotgun across his lap and watches Sam sleep with River pressed against his chest, arm slung over her waist.

He wonders again if his brother held Jessica like that.

Wednesday: 37 days after the start of the apocalypse.
Location: Somewhere in the middle of someplace

It was on a lonely stretch of road outside of Jeretsville, Idaho that they encountered their first, nice army of zombies. Sam had never seen zombies like these before. Sure, Dawn of the Dead, Resident Evil seemed pretty cool on the whole zombie aspect but the zombies he encountered never took running leaps and flung themselves on the hoods of cars.

And suddenly it appeared among the undead. Black with spines on it's back and large, dripping yellow fangs protruding from the mouth. The Impala was sitting idle as the brothers stared at the beast in stunned horror. Some old Van Halen song continued to play and Dean couldn't remember what it was, just that the beast in front of his car, illuminated by the yellow headlights was slowly turning to look at them. He thought he heard Sam whisper his name but he couldn't be sure.

The hellhound stared. He stared right back. It tilted its head back and it gave an unearthly and distorted howl. It illuminated a smoky red before staring back and charged toward them.

"Didn't lie down," River whispered, moving closer to the window, placing her hand against the glass. "They never lie down."

"Buckshot and bullets in the trunk," Dean said, staring at the undead in front of them. "Pretty mobile for corpses. Nice dog."

Sam dug around under the seats and searched through the glove compartment. "Didn't we used to have a box of regular ammo in here?"

Three zombies threw themselves against the car and Dean snarled. "Bastards mess up my car and - "

Something thumped on the roof and Dean looked at River. She was murmuring under her breath, eyes closed before she looked at him and the look on her face said it all. Following him. He turned to look at Sam, who was watching expectantly.

Better get used to it…

The instinct to protect his car wrenched Dean free from his immobility and he threw the car into reverse and spun around just in time to avoid the beast jumping up onto the hood of the car and smashing in the glass.

"Is it coming back at us?" Dean asked. He was gripping the steering wheel tight and staring at the illuminated road, breaking the eighty miles mark and quickly approaching one hundred.

"Still coming," Sam whispered and looked away from the beast chasing them. "Dean?"

Dean said nothing and just kept driving.

Saturday: 40 days after the start of the apocalypse.
Location: Somewhere in the middle of Iowa

At this rate it would be four days on the road to Cleveland and Dean went slow through deserted towns looking for survivors or they scavenged for food. He still didn't sleep much. Too antsy and wired to shut his eyes for more than thirty minutes. Sam tried but there wasn't any way he could get his brother to sleep. To let him turn over the wheel and after awhile he just gave up but when he started to veer off the road going over twenty-five, he was taking over.

At a gas station in Iowa, Sam came back to see Dean still staring at his cellphone, deleting names of those they knew were no longer among them but his fingers stilled and he just stared at the screen. Sam set the scavenged groceries in the backseat and peered over and understood. "You should try. Just in case."

His voice was slightly hoarse and resigned. "We didn't part on the best of terms."

"So? Dean, the apocalypse happened. You could at least try calling to see..." But his brother was already shaking his head and shoved the phone back in his pocket and put the gas pump back in its slot.

"Come on. Still three more states to go and I don't wanna go over the Mississippi in the dark."

Monday: 53 days after the start of the apocalypse.
Location: Cobb, Montana

They ran into them in Montana. A group of fighters setting up camp in the abandoned hospital off Bellview. There were more, they said, all over the place with headquarters in Cleveland. "The darkness has come," the old woman said as they helped her set up her small room on the third floor. "Ye have been chosen, haven't ya?" She stared at Dean as she said this with a near toothless smile and Dean, feeling uncomfortable, nodded and put her small dresser into place.

"Any idea what she means?" Dean shrugged and propped his booted foot on a plastic chair and tightened his laces.

"Crazy old lady. Who the hell knows what's going on in her head." Dean rarely spoke like that about the elderly and so it was clear how tense and stressed he was. "Kiov said they needed help getting the water main running to the east wing. Something about a malfunction in the piping or something. You check it out, I'm heading up on watch."

Sam didn't argue about it. Didn't tell Dean that he should crash for a few hours because if he didn't, he wasn't any use to anyone but there wasn't a damn thing he could do when Dean's mind was made up.

Wednesday: 65 days after the start of the apocalypse.

Location: Middle of Illinois

He wondered if the visions would one day drive him to the brink of madness like his… like River. Death. Destruction. Chaos. Can't bring it home with you. Sam glanced over at Dean who slept in the backseat of the car.

It was hard when it was all happening in you head.

"Bullets and twinkies." River held up the two bags of loot she'd gotten from the abandoned gas station. Dark hair lank and stringy around her scratched up face but she was smiling serenely and that seemed to make it all okay. The bandages on her arm were coming off and Sam wished they knew if hellhound scratches would turn her into one like a werewolf. He wanted to ask her if she was okay.

"Bullets in a Quickmart?" He said instead, softly smiling. River rolled her eyes and quietly set the bags on the floor near Dean's feet.

"He's fine." She said.

Verge of breakdown, not eating, had to put scavenged sleeping pills in his Mountain Dew…

Sam nodded, wrapping an arm around her thin shoulders. "Yeah. He's fine."Tuesday: 70 days after the start of the apocalypse.
Location: Haven (Tower City), Cleveland, Ohio

Even though he looked little more than the zombies coming the slums near the river, they still looked at him like he was the second coming.

Dean had never been more terrified in his entire life (well, Sam being choked to death by a lamp chord was in close second along with the night his mother died but that was a given). There was maybe… thirty? Fifty? Gathered at the entrance to Haven. He felt like he was walking onto the Death Star or an army barracks or something really intimidating. Someone had used a bunch of metal to construct blast door and Dean suspected the little turrets above it were flamethrowers.

Inventive.

A tall, bald black man dressed in sagging blue jeans and a thin sweatshirt stepped forward, grin on his face. "Well look at you. How'd I know you'd make it?"

Dean gave a ghost of a smile, holding up a hand in greeting. "Hey, Gunn. Knew you'd make it through this bitch." He tried to forget the million pairs of eyes on him. Awkward silence prevailed and Dean looked at the faces in front of him. He ignored Sam's quiet and concerned questions.

The boy had to be no older than twelve or thirteen. His t-shirt was too big and awkward. Scuffed blue sneakers and pale face. Longish brown hair hung in his eyes and he had an arm wrapped firmly around a little girl with straggly brown hair and a Hello Kitty t-shirt.

Dean took his arms away from Sam and River, straightening, still staring at the floppy haired boy and the little girl before turning to Gunn. His face was set. All business. Gunn automatically straightened, a look of surprise on his face, as if he couldn't find the reason for doing that. Dean stared right back.

"Let's get to work."