Chapter Five

Sam opened his eyes, still feeling a little sleepy. The headache was down to a dull throb now. And then he was suddenly aware of someone moving in the room. He turned quickly, looking at his brother's bed. It was empty.

"Mornin'," Sam smothered a yawn and blinked at Dean, who was sitting at the rickety dining table sipping a cup of coffee. "I see you're trying to catch up on your beauty sleep." Dean noted. Sam scratched his head, shoving his covers aside, and scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom. "Won't help you, you know," Dean cried after him, "I'm still going to be the handsome one." Sam smiled at the comment, washing his hands.

"And the shorter one." He smirked as he got out of the bathroom. Dean glared at him, and Sam smiled, rubbing his fingers against his temple. It was already getting dark outside. Sam wondered how long ago Dean had woken up. By the looks of him, it wasn't that long ago.

"What's wrong with you?" Dean asked, noticing Sam didn't look his best. "You had anything to eat today?" Sam sighed, sitting down across from his brother and reaching for the takeout bag he brought in earlier. Half of it was still there. He grabbed it, along with the plastic utensils.

"Vision." He said matter-of-factly. Dean winced in sympathy.

"When?" he asked. Sam shrugged.

"A while ago. It's not too bad now." He said, shoving food in his mouth.

"Let me guess," Dean said, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Yeah," Sam sighed, not having to wait for Dean's guess. If he had been a little less groggy, he might have noticed the dark circles that started to form under Dean's eyes or the haggard way his brother was holding himself – but he didn't.

"Still the same one?" the older hunter sounded thoughtful. "I don't get it, we took care of the problem. We got the job done. Why're you still having the damn thing?" Sam shrugged.

"Don't know." He said, looking around to see if there was something else left to eat. He was still hungry.

"And it's the exact same one?" Dean pressed, his brow creased in thought. Sam looked at him.

"Variations, but basically, yeah. The same one." Sam said tossing the empty plastic containers back in the bag. "You know, it's strange, man. It's like they don't want me to leave this place or something." Dean gave him a long look.

"So, what, you think the job's not over or something? You want to hang around here a little longer?" he asked eventually. Sam frowned.

"Hell, no." he said quickly and Dean raised a brow. "No, I think we need to get as far from here as we can." Sam added, getting to his feet "Whatever's trying to keep me here, I'm not sure I want to know what it is." Dean's eyes followed Sam for a moment, holding his gaze, and then Dean gave a slight nod.

"First thing tomorrow." He said, "Unless you want to hit the road now?" he suggested. Sam shook his head. They both needed the rest, they might as well hit the road tomorrow.

"Tomorrow's fine." Sam said, going back to his bed and taking the remote, turning the TV on. He stiffened when Dean sucked in his breath, his eyes going wide. "Dean?" the younger hunter swallowed, his eyes going to his bag, where he had his gun. Seeing Dean getting to his feet, his eyes fixed on something just behind Sam, the younger hunter reacted quickly, jumping off the bed and rolling to the floor to take cover.

"Sam, quick, there's a pillow on the bed!" Dean cried at the same time as Sam jumped off the bed, "Grab the gun, duck for cover!" Sam gave Dean a furious look, shuffling back to his feet. He tossed his pillow at Dean's face to stop him from laughing so hard. Dean quickly deflected the pillow, still laughing and pointing, so Sam tossed his other pillow at his brother. Dean caught that one, holding it to his chest as he roared in laughter. Sam shook his head, but couldn't help a small grin from creeping onto his lips. Besides, he would have paid to hear Dean laugh like that. So for now, he'll let it go. For now.

Sam kept flipping through the channels. There was absolutely nothing to see, and he was getting hungry again. He thought about going back to sleep, but it was still too early for that.

"What are you up to?" he asked Dean when he noticed the older brother changing his clothes.

"Well, we're going to need some gas money." Dean said, shrugging his jacket on, and Sam straightened.

"Dean, I really think you should try and get some rest. You shouldn't be going anywhere." Sam said, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"I told you Sammy, I'm…"

"You're fine, right." Now it was Sam's turn to roll his eyes. "And that's why you were out cold for almost an hour last night," he said, "and why you passed out after that." he added just as Dean was about to protest. "Look, Dean, man, I know you. You're always fine, until it's too late to do anything about it. Not this time. Not on my watch."

"What are you talking about? You're the one that should rest. You're in no shape to go out yourself, so why won't you just rest for the night. I'll try not to wake you when I get back. How's your head anyway?"

"Changing the subject much?" Sam got up, walking over to the small table and making sure the car keys were still there. He quickly pocketed them. There was no way he was letting Dean out of his sight.

"Sam,"

"Dean!" the brothers stared at each other, and for the first time Sam could remember, Dean was the first to look away. He licked his lips and looked back at Sam.

"I don't need a babysitter, Sam." Dean said in a low voice, "I'm not going to drink, I'm not planning on getting into trouble…"

"Do you ever actually plan on getting in trouble?" Sam pointed out. Dean cocked his head to the side, nodding at Sam's point. "Look, just give me twenty minutes. I think a quick shower will help take care of the headache."

"I got a better plan," Dean said. "Why won't you take a shower, and then go back to bed?" Sam shot Dean an irritated look.

"Either I'm going with you, or you're not going either, Dean." He insisted.

"Sam, no offence, buddy, but you look like shit." Sam frowned.

"Have you taken a good look at yourself in the mirror lately?" he asked, and then actually took a good look at his brother. He had to stop himself from gasping. Dean looked… sick. Really sick. But Dean just smirked.

"Yeah, I'm still a chick magnet." Dean said, his smirk widening. "Look, Sam, with that headache of yours, you're not gonna be much help. I mean, I'll get all distracted with those puppy eyes and screw up my game, and we need the cash. So why won't you just stay here and rest? You could call dad, see if he has a job for us." Dean suggested.

"I'll stay and rest if you will." Sam said, crossing his hands over his chest. He thought it a little odd that Dean asked him to call their dad. And he didn't answer the phone when dad called, what was that about? Did they get in a fight or something? Sam made a mental note to actually call their dad and find out.

"Are we seriously back to that whole five-year-old shit?" Dean snapped.

"Dean, you're not okay." Sam said adamantly. Dean sighed in exasperation.

"Sam, I was… That thing came at me, I guess I was… I dunno, distracted. And the damn thing was heavy, too. I think I popped a couple of ribs or something." Dean said, and Sam could swear his brother was flushing. And what did he mean he got distracted? Dean never got distracted on a hunt. "But I'm fine now, really." Dean quickly went on, not giving Sam the chance to talk, "I just needed some rest, I guess." Sam raised a brow, giving Dean a look that just screamed 'yeah, right, who're you kidding?', but Dean ignored him.

"Look, just give me one of those nice prescription pain killers of yours and I'm good as new." Sam suggested. "Besides, I'm hungry, and they do have really good hot wings." Sam added, and then grinned as he remembered another something hot that would be there tonight. Dean looked at him with surprise mixed with suspicion, and then a grin slowly crept onto his lips. Sam knew that grin. Nothing good ever came out when Dean had that grin on his face.

Dean gave a small shrug. Walking over to his duffle, he took out the bottle of painkillers, took one out, and brought it over to Sam, before walking over to the bathroom to bring him a glass of water. Sam looked at the large yellow pill with trepidation. No way would Dean give up that easily. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure Dean was still in the bathroom, and then reached for the bottle of pills, looking intently at it. And there it was. In tiny letters, but still, it was there. A warning, in red letters. Caution – causes severe drowsiness. Do not consume while driving or operating heavy machinery… Sam didn't even bother reading the rest of it. He put the pill back in the bottle and helped himself to a couple of aspirins instead.

Sam followed Dean back into the bar, his eyes skimming around. The woman from before, he couldn't believe he'd forgotten her name, wasn't there. Oh well, the night was young. The brothers sat at a table and Dean eyed the pool table. There didn't seem to be a lot of action there. Well, that was about to change, hopefully.

"Hey, you want something to eat?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah," Dean answered, a little distractedly, "Hey, you don't suppose they have coffee, do they?"

"I'll ask." Sam said, slipping off his seat and heading for the bar, still hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman he was supposed to meet. He placed an order for the both of them, praying someone would be kind enough to shoot the stereo system, and returned to the table.

"So, where do you want to go tomorrow?" Dean asked once Sam sat back down. Sam shrugged.

"Um… to the left?" he suggested, bringing a smile to Dean's lips. It didn't really matter where they went, it's not like they had any place to go to.

"I'll get a paper in the morning, see if we could get better directions or a gig or something." Dean said, flashing a smile at the waitress who brought him his coffee. Sam frowned as the waitress quickly left.

"Hey, you sure you're okay?" Sam asked suspiciously. Dean took a swig from his coffee, moaning in content.

"I am, now." He said, but rolled his eyes at the look on Sam's face. "Oh, jeez, Sam, now what?" he sighed. Sam shrugged.

"Nothing. It's just… You didn't even try to flirt with her." Sam said, motioning at the waitress.

"So?" Dean asked, leaning back in his seat. "She's not my type." Sam raised a brow.

"You have a type? I thought the only requirements were female and with a pulse." Dean gave him a dirty look.

"Well, nice, hotshot. When was the last time you flirted with a girl?" Dean said dryly. Sam smiled, spotting the woman getting in the bar. She was wearing a printed shirt and a tiny black skirt. Definitely his type. Damn it, what was her name again?

"Well, today, actually." Sam said, and Dean snorted.

"Yeah, right, I'll believe it when I see it." He snapped. Sam shrugged, his smile growing, and headed over to the bar, but the woman disappeared. Damn, she was only out of his line of sight for one second. Swallowing hard, Sam turned. Oh, great. I'm never going to hear the end of that… he thought as he made his way back to the table and was met with the most annoying smirk known to man.

Who knew three minutes could be that long? Three minutes that seemed to last lifetimes of Dean making fun of him before his obnoxious brother finished his damn coffee and went over to the pool table. Sam was definitely planning on slipping his brother one of those pills of his to make sure he slept the entire day tomorrow.

He shook his head as Dean still smirked at him from across the bar. First the pillow thing, and now this… Dean was going to be impossible… Sam frowned when he felt something in his pocket vibrate. The music was too loud for him to actually hear his phone ringing. He looked at the screen, but it said 'Unknown'. It was probably their dad, returning the call. One thing could be said about their father; although he still rarely picked up the phone when they called, ever since the accident he has made it a point to always call back. He even made it a point to be in touch with them at least once a week. Sam slipped out of the bar, there was no way he could hear anything from within. Standing just outside, he flipped his phone open and called their dad back. John answered in a heartbeat.

"Sammy?"

"Yeah, hi dad. Sorry I didn't answer." Sam said, looking around, making sure no one was watching him the wrong way.

"You boys alright?" John asked, and Sam actually hesitated. "Sammy?" Sam bit his lower lip. Dean would tear him a new one if he knew Sam ratted him out to their dad. On the other hand… "Sammy?"

"I'm still here, dad. Yeah, we're fine. It's just…" Sam was having difficulty finding the words.

"You boys got the job done?"

"Yes, sir." Was the automatic reply, rolling off Sam's lips before he even realized it. There was a moment of awkward silence, and then John went on.

"How's your brother doing?" Sam swallowed. "He's not answering my calls, Sam. What's going on?"

"I don't know." Sam admitted.

"But there is something going on?" Sam nodded, even though he knew his father couldn't see him.

"Yeah, I think so." Sam said, and licked his lips. "Dad, did you know Dean is still on painkillers?" Sam asked, "I mean, it's not like he has a problem or something, but it has been a really long time… And the other night, we were hunting, and he passed out again. He was out cold for a really long time…" there was a long pause from the other side of the line, and Sam could feel his cheeks heating up as he flushed. He felt like a five year old, telling on his brother.

"He say something to you?" John asked eventually.

"No, sir." Sam answered, "But you know Dean, he'd never say anything…"

"Well, you keep an eye on your brother, and you call me if something's up, okay son?"

"Yeah, but dad, he needs… I don't know, he needs to rest, but he wouldn't listen to me." Sam said, eyeing a group that just entered the bar. They seemed to be looking for trouble. Oh, goody, and Dean was inside. Guess what's going to happen?

"He won't listen to me either, Sam, so just… do what you can." John said, and if Sam wasn't leaning against the side of the bar, he would have fallen to his knees at that statement. Dean wasn't listening to their father? What the hell was going on? And why didn't he get the memo about hell freezing over and pigs flying? "Look, Sam, I have to go now, but keep me informed." John added.

"Yes, sir." Sam said, and closed his phone. They definitely had to get out of his place and join their father. They needed to make sure Dean kept no more secrets.

Sam got back inside, intending on walking straight to his brother and dragging him back to the motel. That is, until he saw her again. He couldn't help the stupid grin on his lips. She noticed him, too, and smiled back at him. Sam gave her a slight nod of acknowledgement and headed her way. She was sitting at one of the small tables, a bottle of beer in her hand.

"Hi again," Sam said, racking his mind trying to remember her name. It was on the tip of his tongue, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember.

"Hi yourself." She said, motioning for him to sit down, "I almost thought you weren't going to show up tonight." She said, leering at him.

"Oh, come on. I'm a man of my word. I did promise you a beer, didn't I?" Sam said, pretending he was insulted. She smiled at him again.

"Oh, then by all means…" she said, "I can go for another." Sam motioned for the bartender to get him two beers, and the bartender nodded. Sam returned his attention back to the young woman in front of him. Lynn, it finally came to him. "So, Sam, I don't remember seeing you around town." Lynn started toying with the label on the beer bottle.

"No, I'm actually just passing though." Sam said. "I'm on a road trip, actually." He added at her questioning look.

"Really? That sounds interesting." She said, leaning towards him. Sam made a face, trying his best to smile and look convincing. He noticed a movement from the corner of his eye, recognizing one of the men from the group he saw earlier. His eyes went to his brother. Dean was in the middle of a game, paying little attention to the people around, or so he led people to believe. Sam knew his brother never let his guard down. He blinked when he realized Lynn was talking to him.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he asked, a little embarrassed.

"I said you don't really look the type." She repeated herself, looking up at the waitress who just showed up with their beers. Sam's stomach growled, and he eyed his and Dean's dinners getting cold on the table in the back. He toyed with the idea of bringing Lynn there, but quickly dismissed the thought. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to step in and screw everything up. Literally or not.

"What type?" Sam asked once the waitress was gone again.

"You know, the getting drunk senseless type." Lynn observed, taking a sip from her beer. Sam smiled.

"I'm not, actually. I hardly ever drink." He said. He could feel himself blushing, and God, please, don't let her see this… Oh, man, and if there was a God, please don't let Dean see this…

"So, no chance of you getting drunk tonight?" Lynn asked playfully. Sam let out a little laugh, shaking his head slightly.

"Probably not." He said. Lynn cocked her head to the side, raising her glass.

"What can I say, I do love a challenge." She laughed. "So, tell me, Sammy, where's your girlfriend?" Sam raised a brow. That sort of came from left field. And it still hurt to think about it. He knew Lynn didn't mean anything by it, that it was just an innocent question, but he couldn't stop the image of Jessica from jumping into his mind.

"Um…" he swallowed, "What makes you think I have a girlfriend?"

"Boyfriend?" Lynn tried again. Sam grinned, shaking his head. Lynn gave a small nod of satisfaction. "Good. Just so we're clear about that."

"And by the way, it's Sam." Sam said, reaching for his beer. It was now Lynn's turn to look at him quizzically. "I don't like it when people call me Sammy. It's Sam." He clarified. She gave another small nod.

"Sam it is."

"Hey, there, you two. Having fun?" Sam nearly choked on his beer. "Easy there, tiger." Dean said, patting Sam's back.

"Um, Dean, what are you doing here?" Sam choked.

"Now, now, is that a nice way to introduce me to the lady?" Dean said, giving her that grin. Oh God, how was he supposed to compete with that Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head as Lynn practically melted in front of him. And he was doing so well… Sam cleared his throat.

"Lynn, this is my brother, Dean. Dean, this is Lynn." Sam said, and gritted her teeth as Lynn reached her hand to shake Dean's.

"Well, don't you let me get in the way, you love birds, I just came here to tell you that I'm heading back to the motel." Dean said, winking mischievously at Lynn.

"Wait, now? Why?" Sam asked.

"'Cause it's late, and I'm beat." Dean said simply. Sam frowned and was about to argue when he took a look at the time. It was after one in the morning, and they were planning to leave early. They should have been back at the motel hours ago. Sam started to speak, but Dean stopped him. "Look, you gonna get back to the motel alright or do you need me to wait? I can leave you money for a cab if you need some…" Dean started in a low voice so that Lynn won't hear him.

"No." Sam said, "No, I'm fine. You should go, get some rest. I'll be there soon." Sam said, patting Dean's shoulder.

"You sure? I mean, it's not like you have a curfew, Sammy. You are allowed to have fun once in a while. God knows it way overdue…" Dean said, smirking. It was lucky for the older hunter that looks can't kill, or he would never have made it to the next morning.

"Don't you have to go, Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean cleared his throat, "Nice meeting you." He gave Lynn another of his patented grins and then left.

"Interesting brother you have." Lynn smiled at Sam, who snorted. Yeah, right. Interesting.

TBC

A/N: Okay, not much action in this one, but things will get heated up soon enough... Please review, this story is really difficult to write, and I really like to know what you're thinking.