Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way, shape, or form

Author's Note: The support from everyone who has reviewed is just amazing...thank you so much, again! I'm sorry for the wait, again - I've been really busy lately, which hasn't given me much time for writing. This is also why I'm backed up on answering private messages and responding to the reviews - again, sorry! Don't eat me and I'll write to you soon, I promise.

As always, constructive criticism is appreciated!

Just as a warning, there is some violence in this chapter, but nothing too extreme.

It had been nearly two days of nothing but driving, nothing but moving. They'd stopped twelve times – Sam had been keeping count – six times for food, once to buy some stuff, and five times to use the bathroom. Of course, Dean had found a few places to stop the car so that he could catch a few hours of sleep before driving continuously again…

After these two days of light conversation, Metallica, cheeseburgers, Metallica, counting how much money that had left and just a little bit more Metallica, Dean spoke. He switched off the cassette player and turned to Sam.

"Once I graduated from high school, I was planning to take off for the summer."

Sam looked over from the window. "Thanks for sharing." he said, laughing a little bit. "Are you telling me these experiences so I can complete your biography or something?"

Dean ignored the biography comment. "I thought it would be neat to drive across America – you know, see the country."

"Okay."

"I was thinking…maybe that's where we'll go."

"Across America?" Sam said, laughing a little bit. "You're one crazy –"

"Yes or no, Sam?" Dean asked, starting to get a little bit annoyed.

Sam thought about it for a second. "I always wanted to see this place without hunting involved."

"I'm guessing that's a yes?" he asked, a little more hopeful than he'd intended.

Sam shook his head a little bit. Trust Dean to come up with something like this. But even though he might have been trying to hide it…Sam could tell that his brother wanted to do this. He shrugged his shoulders. "Fine by me." he said. "As long as you're not going to play Metallica the entire time, because it's getting so old…"

Dean switched the cassette player back on, cranking up the volume with a smile. "What?" he said, "I can't hear you!"

It was driving John crazy. Surely he wasn't going to follow after the boys…what was the point? That's what they wanted, he decided one night. They wanted him to follow them…yep, that was his boys. Those damned crazy boys. Never know what was good for them, nope.

Then again…it was starting to kill him. And the more he thought about it each day, the more it annoyed him. They couldn't just take off like that! He was their father. They should have more respect than to just…just take off and run away like that! They couldn't do that! Not when John Winchester was their Dad, no way…he was going to find them and drag them back on home again.

Well, at least one of them, he thought to himself as he grabbed the keys to his truck, leaving a half consumed bottle of beer on the table. He started for the door and looked back; reconsidering. He finished the bottle in one swig. "Oh, they're gonna be sorry that they ever left me, yep." he said, smiling and shaking his head as he wiped his mouth and started for the front door, swinging the car keys around his index finger. "Yep…"

Dean loved driving during the night best. He would switch off the music and Sam would doze off and he'd just…think, usually about the situation at hand. But sometimes his thoughts would lose focus, and memories would slip through his mind, like a slideshow of Time.

He remembered the first time Dad had ever hit him…it was only a few months after their Mom had died. He was angry because Sam wouldn't stop crying. Dean remembered being slightly annoyed too – after all, he was tired as it was. He'd missed his naptime earlier because Dad had been storming around the house so much, making so much noise, yelling…

He slid out of his bed and across the hall, to Sam's nursery. His eyes widened when he saw John, holding little baby Sam…and shaking him. "Sleep, damn it! Sleep, Sam!"

"Daddy!" Dean had cried; shocked. "Mommy always said to be really gentle with Sammy!" He remembered how his mother had always told him that he needed to be very careful around Sam because he was so little. Didn't she always say not to shake him?

John turned around, staring down Dean. His face twisted in anger, and he shoved Sam back into his crib. He advanced on the little boy, and before Dean could run he slapped him across the face. Dean tried to run but he grabbed the boy's shoulder, pulling him closer.

"Don't…talk…about…her!" he had yelled in a way that made the baseboards of the house shake. He then gave Dean a rough push, towards his bedroom. Dean hurried in and closed the door, flopping down on his bed; crying. He listened to Sam cry the rest of the night, and he felt that he related very well with the melancholy drone.

He had promised himself, right then and there at the age of five, that he'd be more careful. He'd watch out for Sammy, because he wouldn't want Dad to hurt Sam. Ever.

He'd failed his brother on that, he realized again, glancing over at Sam. That nick, that little scar under his brother's eye…it was going to haunt him forever, possibly more than the cruelest of demons that he would ever encounter.

Sam jolted awake in the early morning hours. He leaned over to check the clock on the dashboard – it was two in the morning. The car was stopped – Dean must've found somewhere to pull over so that he could sleep.

There was no one in the front passenger seat. Sam turned around blearily, expecting to see his older brother stretched out across the back seat, sleeping.

No one was there.

Determined not to panic, he opened the car door and stepped out. "Dean?" he yelled. There wasn't a bar nearby that he might be in or anything like that. Where are you, Dean? He turned around slowly, looking…

Something collided with him from behind. "Ouch!" he yelled, snapping his head around, trying to see who it was – Dean. "Dean, what the hell –"

"He found us."

"What?"

"Dad, he found us Sam." Dean said, his voice a little panicky.

"What…what now?" Sam asked stupidly.

"Hello there boys," a familiar voice said.

"Dad…" Sam looked at his brother, who seemed really scared. He'd never seen Dean scared, not like this…not when he was toe to toe with a leering ghost, not when a werewolf had practically ripped his guts out, not when that phantom had him on the ground, screaming in pain. This was a whole new kind of fear.

"Dad, come on –" Dean said, but his words did little. John attacked, punching Dean to the ground fairly quickly and then brutally hitting him again and again. Sam could only watch, his eyes transfixed on the horrible sight, his feet seemingly frozen into the cold, hard ground – DEAN.

"Jesus, Sam!" someone yelled. Sam's eyes opened, and he blinked – they were in the Impala. How were they in the Impala?

Someone was shaking his shoulder. He turned and looked – it was Dean, and he looked…fine. No blood, no bruising…nothing.

Where was John? Where were they? "Where are we?" he asked.

"Pulled over on the side of the road. Sam, what the hell? You stared yelling my name over and over…"

It was a dream. It was all a stupid dream. "Yeah, it was nothing." Sam said. "Just a weird dream."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you want to hear the details? It included you dressed in a tutu." Sam said, lying quickly. He wondered how long his nose was.

"Was this tutu particularly frightening, because you seemed pretty freaked out." Dean said, not going to be distracted so quickly.

"Dean, did you hear me? It was you in a tutu. Yes it was frightening." Sam quipped.

"Bitch." Dean's eyes narrowed, and he pulled on the gearshift, putting the car back in drive as he pulled back into the four steady lanes of traffic. He glanced over at Sam again. The subject was begging to be brought up again, and the words floated around the car but Dean could never grasp them to form them into a sentence.

And ten thousand more words evaded the brothers.