A/N: hi guys! Thank you so much to everyone who's reading my little tale. I appreciate every view! Thanks to those who have faved and followed, and finally, a HUGE thank you to Rebeccat for that amazing, detailed review! You made my whole week! I'm focussing very hard on getting all of the Deaf stuff right, so I'm glad you noticed. I would love any more feedback or corrections from anyone.

Also, silly me forgot to explain my code for speaking and signing.

"Normal" = Speaking

"italics" = Signing ASL, voice off

"Bold + italics" = Signing SEE & speaking.

Little bit of action in this scene, a fun little bit from the pilot that I wrote in a different place because of how I changed the reunion of the brothers. Plus a scene of the boys chatting outside the Impala. The story should start to speed up soon too. ENJOY! :) love panda x

Chapter 6

Time seemed to slow down inside the Impala. An hour felt like 3, and the miles seemed stretched out over endless asphalt. They'd stopped for a bathroom break once already, and refuelled themselves with the worst coffee North America's highways had to offer. But that was 4 hours ago and the extra energy had evaporated. Despite covering many miles already, they still had 5 hours left on the road, and that was only if they didn't stop. Dean wanted to keep driving through the night, however Sam's keen perception could see the exhaustion creeping up on him. The droop of his eyelids would have been imperceptible to most, but not Sam, who even after two years apart, still knew his brother better than anyone else.

It had just passed 10.30pm, and the road they were driving down was a quieter, back road, not a highway full of other travellers, so it was mostly dark inside the car. Oncoming headlights illuminated them periodically, but not frequently enough for a conversation, so Sam flipped on the small bulb on the roof of the Impala; not an original feature, but something John had fitted for Sam's benefit. Dean's head flicked slightly towards the passenger seat, his expression expectant.

"We should stop somewhere so you can sleep," Sam stated, with a serious gaze.

"Nah, I'm fine," Dean said turning his face a bit more so Sam could read his lips, before focusing on the road again.

"No, you're exhausted," Sam leaned forward, trying to get in Dean's sightline more so he couldn't be ignored. "I don't want to end up in the hospital, or a body bag because you were too stubborn to stop!"

As if on-cue, the car veered and swerved into the other lane by a fraction before Dean righted it. Sam threw his hands up in frustrated justification.

"That was your fault for making me take my eyes off the road," Dean grumbled, earning a pissed off look from his brother.

It was a sore subject for Sam. There had been many times on the road when it was late at night, and they'd been driving for hours, where John would get grumpy with Sam for signing at him while he was trying to concentrate on the road. It left Sam feeling silenced, shut out, just watching from the back seat as Dean and their father could exchange conversation with ease. It wasn't something that happened too often, as they did all sign the majority of the time, and Sam was obstinate enough to voice his annoyance when it did. But it was just enough to remind Sam of his difference.

"I didn't mean that," Dean signed apologetically, with one hand once he saw his brother's expression.

"I know," Sam lied.

"Perhaps you're right, I could use an hour's shut-eye," Dean admitted, suddenly feeling every single mile he'd just driven. He'd dragged his brother out here with him, so it would probably be pretty crappy of him to get Sammy killed before they even got to their destination.

They were currently driving through a heavily wooded and picturesque area, with numerous hike trails, campsites and beauty spots all leading off the main road. Dean turned left down the next turnoff, and sure enough, within ten minutes he'd found a trail, complete with its own makeshift parking lot in a field. There was no gate, or security to be seen, and it was completely deserted. He pulled in, and parked in the shadows so that the midnight black car was completely hidden from any traffic that may happen to pass by.

Over the years, the boys had been no strangers to spending a few hours, or even the whole night parked up in a lay-by or truck stop, either sleeping, or playing silent guessing games while their father slept. It definitely wasn't the safest option with two young boys in tow, but John picked the spots carefully, and always slept so lightly that it was like he had one eye open the whole time. He'd of course also pour out a ring of salt, encircling the entire car, just in case.

Dean didn't bother with this extra precaution tonight, as he wasn't planning on wasting too much time sleeping. He opened his door and clambered out, enjoying a much needed full-body stretch, which Sam decided was a good idea, and followed suit. In almost unison, they both walked to the back of the car, and leaned against the boot, side by side, enjoying the night air. There was a tiny lamp to the right, by the entrance, that looked like it had been there since the 1960s, and it gave off just enough light for conversation.

"So," Dean nudged Sam with his elbow, pulling his gaze from the night sky. "Jess seems great!" he signed emphatically, with a smirk.

Sam bobbed a fist in agreement.

"And Brady. He's fun," Dean pressed on.

Sam just nodded.

"And Maddie…" Dean's smirk grew.

This time Sam didn't reply, just fixed his brother with a probing glare, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. Dean always prodded and poked him like this when he wanted something that he knew Sam wasn't going to like. In this case, it was probably a pass to hit on Maddie, something he would never get from Sam.

"What?" Dean groused when he saw Sam's expression.

"Nothing," Sam replied, too tired to dive into anything now.

"Thanks. For coming with me, I mean," Dean said, out of the blue. It was unlike him to be so gracious. "I know you're… settled in your new life, and coming back on the road with me is probably the last thing you wanted, so… thanks."

Sam blinked at his brother for a few seconds, watching him squirm slightly, a reaction to being sincere. Dean really must be shit scared if he was actively being so nice and trying to keep Sam there with him. His mind skipped back to their Dad's voicemail, and he wondered exactly how bad it had sounded to put Dean on edge like this.

"Well… not the LAST thing. A lobotomy would be much worse," Sam joked. It was making him uncomfortable seeing his brother being vulnerable.

"Oh good! Glad to know I rank above getting an ice pick hammered into your eye!" Dean replied, feigning being offended.

They stood in silence for a few moments more, watching the stars. Sam had forgotten how they would shine so much brighter away from all of the city lights. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean's mouth move, so he turned his head only to see it was just a massive, gaping yawn. The infectious action caused him to yawn deeply too, eyes scrunching closed. He must have made a noise too as when he reopened his eyes, Dean was looking at him with an unnamable emotion on his face.

Sam just frowned back.

"Going to sleep. Me backseat, you front," he signed shortly.

"Woah, w…" Dean started to argue, but stopped when he saw Sam had already turned his back and opened the back passenger door, climbing into the more spacious part of the car.

Dean pulled a face, but then reminded himself that his little brother was not so little anymore, and needed the leg room. He bit the bullet, rolled his eyes to himself, and climbed back into the front of the car, but this time on the passenger side. He kicked his legs up onto the bench, leaning his back against the door, wishing he at least had a pillow. He glanced at the back and noticed that Sam had taken his jacket off and rolled that up as a pillow, wedging it against the window and headrest, ever the smart one. A foot was up on the seat, bent at the knee, while the other stretched out into the other footwell, and he was fiddling on his phone. Even in the roomy, old car, Dean couldn't help but think Sam looked like a Bigfoot crammed into a clown car. He chuckled to himself at that thought, and leant back, letting his eyes close. The last thing he heard before sleep took him was Sammy shifting in his seat and letting out a long sigh. It was nice to have his brother close again, even just for this one trip.

Sam awoke from a light sleep an hour later with his bladder screaming at him for release. Too much bad coffee, and too few bathroom breaks on the road. He looked over at Dean, and saw his brother sleeping soundly, mouth agape, head lolling back against the window. He put a hand on the back of the front seat, and felt it vibrating lightly, telling him Dean was snoring loudly. Carefully, and quietly as possible, Sam cracked the door, and drew his long body out of the car, closing the door again gently. Dean didn't stir a muscle.

This was one of the more rustic nature spots they'd found to park up at, so there didn't appear to be any public toilets around. Sam sighed, then headed into the trees to find a private spot, thinking to himself that he'd begun to take for granted his nice, clean dorm living. He was pretty far from the parking lot, and there was zero light, natural or otherwise, but in his rush from the car, he'd somehow remembered to bring a flashlight. Shining it on the ground, he managed to pick his way deeper into the woods without falling flat on his face.

Sam finished up, and started heading back to the car when he suddenly felt an odd uneasy feeling, like he was being watched. He turned his head to the right a fraction, and was sure he'd seen movement in the darkness right on the edge of his vision. He slowed his pace a little, every part of his body becoming tense and alert; an old familiar pre-fight reaction happening beyond his control. Whipping round, he shined the flashlight into the trees, keen eyes training in on every shadow for signs of life. But there was nothing. He felt his body relax again, and he chided himself for his overreaction to nothing. Two years out of the game and he was already an extra in a horror movie, jumping at every little red-herring. He was about to turn back to the parking lot, when suddenly…

WHACK!

A strong shove from behind came out of nowhere, sending him lurching forward, and almost falling to the ground. He was only just able to find his feet again before the second blow came his way. Sam spun on his left foot, blocking it with his right arm, old muscle memory taking over. The assailant swung a third time, the quick succession of attacks coming without pause. Sam's instincts were again prepared though, blocking the punch this time with his left arm, and kicking out with his right leg in a front kick. The person, or thing dodged backwards, but not enough to avoid the kick entirely, and Sam felt his foot make contact. Trying to take advantage of the upper-hand, Sam went for another strike with his right fist, aiming at the outline of the attackers chest. But they were ready for this move, and suddenly Sam found his arm in a lock grip, then his feet were wiped out from under him and he went down. He hit the cold, solid ground with a huff, stunned and disoriented for a second. The full weight of the other person was on top of him, but he still couldn't see who, or what it was in the darkness. Panic started to rise in his chest, and he thought about shouting for Dean. Was he too far away from the car though? Would his sleeping brother even hear him?

Just as Sam was taking a breath to shout for help, he was abruptly blinded by a bright, white light in his face. It felt like minutes, but a few seconds later his vision adjusted, and he could plainly see the shit-eating grin on his opponent's face. It was Dean.

"Looks like someone is rusty," Dean said, shining the torch up at his face so Sam could see his lips.

The spotlight however created odd shadows on Dean's face, so Sam didn't really catch this. All he saw was his smart-ass brother grinning down at him, clearly finding this all very entertaining. Now he was less panicked, Sam could think clearer, and a manoeuvre for escaping a pinning came back to him. He bent his knees, trapped Dean's left foot with his right, then bucked and flipped, spinning them so that now Dean was the one pinned to the floor, with Sam on top.

"Or not," Dean grunted to himself, surprised, yet proud at his brother.

Dean tapped twice on Sam's leg, signalling that he was tapping out, and he'd lost this sparring match. Sam left it another second out of annoyance, then released his brother, pulling himself to his feet. Dean held out a hand for Sam to help him up, but he ignored it, going instead to fetch his flashlight which he'd lost in the fight. He spun it round to illuminate his brother, who was picking himself up from the floor. Without another word, he stomped angrily back to the car.

Sam got back to the Impala, but he was too riled up to get back in yet, so he paced around by the back of the car, trying to walk it off. A couple of minutes later Dean arrived back at the car too, walking straight up to his brother.

"Nice moves, you been keeping up with training then?" Dean complimented him earnestly.

"What the hell, Dean?!" Sam signed angrily, loud huffs of air coming from his lips.

"What? It was just practise," Dean replied innocently. He didn't know what his brother's problem was.

"You attacked me out of nowhere, in the pitch black! I could have shot you!"

It used to be a genuine fear of his, that he could accidentally hurt his own family in a friendly fire mishap if he couldn't see, and couldn't hear that it was them. He was very good at recognising them in the dark, but that was a while ago, and sharp as his sight was, he definitely hadn't realised it was Dean tonight.

"No, you wouldn't have. You're good, but not that good. I can still kick your ass," Dean said with a cocky smirk

"You can't dodge bullets though, Neo! And didn't I just pin you then?" Sam rebuffed, making reference to the Matrix, a movie they'd watched together more than once.

"I knew you weren't armed though, your handgun is still in the glovebox. Which is a good point, it's not going to help anyone staying in there," Dean gestured at the car. "I bet you've not even got a knife on you. And you only won back there as I took it easy on you, knowing you'd be out of practice. Something a real monster or ghost would never do."

Sam rolled his eyes in response, not fully believing that Dean didn't just lose. But he also knew that what Dean was saying was right; had that been a real fight, he would have been woefully underprepared.

"You've been living the civilian life a while, I had to make sure you were up to this, little brother," Dean said, somewhere between a critique and concern.

"Did I pass then," Sam asked, with a sardonic face.

"Yeah, you'll do," Dean said with a small smile. "Just make sure you're packing next time."

Sam rolled his eyes a second time, but this time with a smirk. The adrenaline from being attacked was still coursing through him, making it hard to stand still. It had been so long since he'd been in a fight, but his muscles still coiled the same way, and the training was clearly still all there. He rubbed absently at his shoulder where it had hit the ground, feeling a bruise starting.

"You hurt?" Dean asked, suddenly wary he might have gone too hard on his little bro.

"No, it's nothing. Sorry to disappoint," Sam replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, whatever, Rocky," Dean joked back. "Let's get back on the road."

Sam nodded, then climbed back into the front passenger seat. Dean got into the drivers side and started up the car again with a resigned sigh. It was 12.10am, and they still had many miles to cover. He estimated they should roll into Billings around 5am if they carried on driving straight through now, but he also desperately needed more caffeine.

"Coffee stop, then straight on 'til morning?" he ran the plan by Sam.

"Sure," Sam nodded and mouthed the word soundlessly, hands busy with his seatbelt.

Dean secretly wished he'd spoken it, but again…Sam's choice.

"So how are you still good at fighting? Did I train you that well," Dean questioned before switching the car to reverse and backing out of the parking spot.

"No, I'm on the wrestling team at Gally," Sam replied with a silent incredulous laugh at Dean's ego. Dean has learnt the colloquial sign and nickname for Gallaudet the previous night at the bar.

"Don't you think that's a bit of an unfair fight after, you know, fighting monsters your whole life?" Dean looked surprised.

"Maybe," Sam signed simply, with a small shrug and impish smile.

Huh, Dean thought. Maybe his square little brother wasn't so square after all.