Disclaimer and everything in the first part. 50 odd hits but no reviews, please even just one would be cool and will feed my imagination, pretty please, with sugar on top. Anyway, next part.

Chapter 1

Co- ordinates and a name.

Sam couldn't help it, he could even class it as dangerous even life threatening, if he ever caught him. He knew he should be concentrating on driving, but he looked so weird when he slept. Young, almost innocent. Two very different Deans, one real, one a mask. Problem was Sam didn't know which one he preferred. Although one thing could be said about the innocent one, he sure could wake the dead with his snoring.

"Dean… Yo Dean!" taking one hand of the wheel, Sam punched Dean in his left shoulder. Dean mumbled something, "Sammy, go to you own bed, your too fat to share mine. Start acting your age which is 12 dude." Then Dean went back to sleep and back to his snoring, innocence now gone from his face. So Sam tried a new tactic, he turned Dean's Iron Butterfly tape off, the tape was playing so loud Sam had no idea how Dean could sleep, hell, even better be louder than it with his snoring, but hey it's a strange world that you live in, and Sam knew that first hand. Wait he had a reaction.

"Jerk," moaned a suddenly, very awake Dean. "Why did you turn off the music Sammy?"

Sam grinned, "Because oh beloved brother, it could not compete with your snoring, that's why. Oh and don't forget I'm not Sammy anymore."

Dean looked confused for a second. "I do not snore."

"Oh, you do!"

"Do not!"

"Doooo tooooo"

"Oh, very childish bitch!"

"Whatever, Jerk."

"Wow, what's with chorus of teen American girls, are they fighting your battles now? Dude I thought you were better than 'Whatever', geez." Whined, an amused Dean.

"Oh bite me bit…" Sam was stopped half way through his reply by his phone going of.

Looking at his phone, Sam was puzzled to fined it was a text from an anonymous number. Giving Dean a quick look, the said person was staring holes in the side of his head.

"Anonymous text Dean, with co- ordinates and a name, Barontone, I think? Please tell me you didn't give dad my number."

"Chuck it here Sam."

Passing the phone to Dean, Sam asked again, "Dean did you give dad my number?"

"What? Yes, of cause I did," mumbled Dean as he searched through the many maps that littered the Impala's passenger floor.

"You fucker, how….," Dean interrupted Sam before he could finish.

"Dad knew you were with me, and then you decided too go off and find him. So I gave dad the head's up and your number, encase anything happened, ok." He mumbled angrily, still searching through the maps.

Sam mentally slapped himself. Dean had been in the right, but he wasn't going to tell him that. After all that had happened last week, with the scarecrow, and that nasty, shitty town. What if he had been 5 minutes slower in finding Dean? He mentally slapped himself again, 'don't think about it.'

He was stolen from his next thought by Dean, thankfully.

"Pull over dickweed, I'm driving, and put my god damn tape back on."

While pulling the Impala over to the side of the road, Sam mumbled loud enough for Dean to hear, "Jerk!"

Dean's reply of "Bitch," brought a grin too Sam's face as he undid his seat strap. It was all good.