Chapter Seven

Dean bit his lower lip, reaching for the bottle of water he had on the passenger seat. He cursed when the water spilled on his shirt, taking his eyes from the road for only a split second. He was exhausted. More than that, he was drop-dead-tired. It was just after three A.M., and he had been driving for eighteen hours straight, going twenty miles per hour over the speed limit more often than not. But he knew he couldn't keep it up for long. The torrential rain made it almost impossible to see, and he didn't trust the car. It wasn't his Impala after all. Dean cursed loudly as he forced his eyes open and started looking for a place to spend what was left of the night.

He had gotten Sam's call the day before yesterday; three days into his hospital stay. His cardiologist changed his prescription and dosage, and even had Dean on an IV drip for a few hours, when a nurse noticed an arrhythmia. They told him the best way to get back in shape was to cut down on his caffeine. Yeah, right, take away the last thing he enjoyed. No way was Dean going to give that damn demon that satisfaction.

And then came Sam's call. His heart monitor reacted immediately to the distress Dean heard in his little brother's voice. He would have left the hospital right then and there, if he hadn't gotten so damn dizzy and felt like his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. They forced him to stay until his vitals returned to normal, and he was hell-bent on making up for the lost time. The drive to Missouri had taken him four days. The drive back to Texas took him half that time. By Dean's calculations, he should be there in about twelve more hours, if he just kept going. But like so many things in his life, his body finally betrayed him. Stopping at the first motel he passed, Dean got a room and passed out from exhaustion on the bed for almost ten hours.

He cursed when he saw the time and called Sam again. Sam answered the call on the forth ring. Dean's growing anxiety at the time it took Sam to answer eased a little at the sound of his baby brother.

"Dean?"

"Hey, Sammy. How're you doing there, kiddo?" Dean asked, hoping he didn't sound as tired as he thought he did.

"I'm fine, really. You okay there? You sound like crap." Damn.

"I'm just wiped, I've been driving for a few hours. Man, the traffic here's a bitch." Dean lied. The truth was, with all that rain he drove through the past couple of days, the roads were pretty much empty. He didn't want Sam to know that, though. He didn't want Sam to have the slightest clue as to where he had really been these past few days.

"Yeah, well, if the weather over there is as bad as it is down here, then drive carefully, okay? They've issued a sever weather alert here, and they say it could get worse." Dean peered out the window. There was no one outside. The wind was blowing harshly, bending trees and sending stray leaves and litter all over.

"Yeah, it's pretty messy out here, too." He said. "How about you, any nightmares, visions, any other shit I should know about?" he asked.

"No, not since I called you." Sam said after a short pause, and Dean knew he was lying.

"Sam…"

"Well, okay, I did have a nightmare or two, but just, you know, the regular kind. Not the coming true kind. At least, I hope so."

"Alright, well, listen, I'm about twelve hours away, but looks like it's gonna take me longer than that to get there in this weather. You sure you're all right?"

"I already told you, Dean, I was just freaking out over that dream. But I hadn't had it again, so… you know, keeping my fingers crossed."

"You and me both, little brother." Dean said, "You still keep the shotgun nearby?" he asked.

"Right by the door." Was Sam's quick reply.

"Salt all the doors and windows?" Dean made sure.

"Twice." Sam said, "Dean, seriously, I'm more worried about you driving in this storm than anything else, so… you know, try to find a place to hold out till it's over, okay? Promise me you won't drive until the weather clears up a bit." Dean looked longingly at the bed, and then looked up as a drop hit him in the eye. The roof was leaking. Just great. "Dean?"

"Huh?"

"Promise me you'll find somewhere to stay, that you won't drive in this weather." Sam repeated. Dean hesitated a moment longer. He could still hear the panic in his little brother's voice on the message he'd left on his voicemail.

"You sure?" Dean asked, making sure.

"Yeah, I'm sure." Sam answered. Dean nodded slightly. Back to bed it is. After a long shower. And hopefully, if he remembers correctly, there's a vending machine not far from his room…

"Yeah, okay. Listen, reception is pretty crappy with this weather, but I'll have my cell on me, so you can call whenever, okay?"

"I told you, man, I'm okay. Really." Sam said again. He did sound a helluva lot better, but Dean knew he just wouldn't be able to relax until he had Sam in his reach again, until he knew for sure that Sam was safe.

"Alright then. Stay out of trouble." Dean could hear Sam snort.

"Said the pot to the kettle…"

It was almost six in the morning when something woke Sam up with a start. A noise or something, he couldn't be sure. Peeking through nearly closed eyes, Sam strained to listen better. Probably just the thunder storm, he told himself a moment later and was about to go back to sleep when a knock on the door made him jump. Cursing, his heart racing, Sam looked at the time and resentfully dragged himself out of the nice, warm bed. He stopped to pick up the shotgun before peeking through the window. It was completely dark outside, and still raining cats and dogs, but he could see the car parked just outside. He let out a muttered curse, rolling his eyes and opened the door a second after another knock, stronger this time, was heard.

"Well, it's about freaking time! I'm freezing my ass out here!" Dean muttered through clattering teeth and pushed through Sam inside the room. "A single? Damn it, Sammy, you couldn't switch to twin beds?"

Sam closed the door, noticing it wasn't that easy with the wind trying to keep it open, and took a long look at his older brother. Dean was shivering noticeably and looked beat. Sam wondered if his stubborn brother even listened to him when he told him not to drive in this weather. Probably not, he was here after all. Dean looked around the room, sitting on the only chair available, the other being occupied by Sam's duffle. Sam quickly picked Dean's own duffle off the floor, putting it on the table. It was moist, but not too wet, and luckily, none of the clothes inside got wet.

"I wasn't really expecting you yet," Sam noted as he looked through his brother's duffle, taking out a couple of warm shirts. "Come on, let's get you in the shower, get you warmed up a little and out of these wet clothes before you catch a cold."

"Aww, Sammy, is that what you tell all the girls you bring home?" Dean smirked.

Sam used the time Dean spent in the shower braving the strong wind on his way to and back from the main office where he got another room, one with two beds. He started packing, unable to resist taking another look in Dean's duffle. The pills were on top now, no longer hidden. He opened the bottle again, just to make sure. Still about the same amount of pills. Sam let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding.

Dean seemed better after the shower. He still looked tired, but Sam guessed that had something to do with the twelve-hour drive in terrible weather. Sam finished packing, but they still had a couple of hours until checkout, so he offered to go out for breakfast.

"Hey, why won't I drive?" Sam suggested. Dean narrowed his eyes. "It's just a couple of blocks." Sam said quickly, and Dean crossed his arms across his chest. "You'll be right there with me, in case anything happens…" Sam tried and Dean dropped his hands.

"Yeah, I know. That's what I'm afraid of." He said, and then smirked, taking the edge off his words. Sam rolled his eyes, and almost jumped when the set of keys was tossed his way. "Dude, seriously, first a pillow, now the keys?"

"Shut up!" Sam said, scratching the side of his neck and looking at the keys. His eyes went back to his brother. "You sure about this?" he asked, making sure. Dean just shrugged, taking his jacket and heading for the door.

Sam was talking on the phone, as quietly as he possibly could, his back turned on his sleeping brother. He was talking to Lynn, telling her the new room number, making plans for later that night, should the weather get better. He ended the call, and turned to check up on Dean, when he yelped, startled, his hand going to his chest.

"Jeez, Dean, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Sam accused. "I thought you were still asleep."

"Nah, who can sleep with you yapping in their ears?" Dean asked, rubbing his stomach and heading for the bathroom. Sam rolled his eyes and went over to the window, peering outside. The weather got a little better. The drizzle that started less than an hour ago had stopped, and the sun was actually out. Even the wind seemed to stop for a while, but it was still uncharacteristically cold outside.

"So… we gonna talk about it anytime soon?" Dean asked as he got out of the bathroom. Sam didn't turn to look at him, a little distracted.

"Huh?"

"Sam!" at the tone in Dean's voice, Sam turned, looking quizzically at the older brother. "We gonna talk about this?" Dean repeated.

"About what?" Sam asked and Dean rolled his eyes.

"About the reason I dropped everything and drove through two states in two days? About the freaked ass message you left on my voicemail? About the vision?"

"It wasn't a vision." Sam said quickly. Maybe too quickly. Dean stared at him, raising a brow. It wasn't a vision. It couldn't have been. Sam won't let it be. No way.

Seeing his little brother hesitate, Dean narrowed his eyes. "Okay, so what was it?" he asked.

"A nightmare." Sam said, suddenly finding the carpet extremely interesting.

"Ah huh." Dean said, sitting down on the bed closest to the door. "You wanna tell me about it?" he asked.

"Not really." Sam said in an undertone. Maybe, if he didn't say it out loud, it'll go away.

"Sam…" there was a little hint of irritation in Dean's voice. Sam sat down on the other bed, still not looking at his brother.

"It was about Lynn." Sam said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Who?" Dean asked, and Sam remembered Dean only met Lynn once, and even then it was only for a minute.

"The girl, you know, the one I was with in the bar before we left…" Dean nodded slowly.

"The one you hooked up with," he said and Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's tact.

Dean walked down the street, breathing in the cool morning air. Well, if you can call twenty minutes to noon morning… He was on his way to the grocery store. For some freaky reason, he really didn't feel like a greasy cheeseburger for lunch. A fleeting thought of eating a salad crossed his mind, but he hunted it down, shot if full of mental rock salt, and burnt it. He had his limits, after all. He figured making pasta was a good way to go. It was easy to make, Sam loved it, and there'd be plenty of it with not that much money spent. He figured he'd grab some pre-made sauce while he was at it, he really didn't feel much like cooking.

He wasn't sure how he felt about Sam's vision/dream/whatever. Sam seemed freaked out. He even wanted to tell Lynn all about it. Good thing Dean was back to make sure his little brother didn't do anything stupid like that. Dean was almost glad to know the Demon might be back for another round. He found himself anticipating it. He was just so weary, so tired of fighting. A part of him just wanted it over. And what more poignant way than by the same thing that killed his mother? The same thing that practically defined and shaped his entire life? He was never this glad not to have his father around, even if it meant he didn't have the Colt.

But on the other hand, he wasn't ready to go just yet. He wasn't ready to leave Sam, not when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this damn Demon had plans for his brother, that It wanted him. And Sam was scared enough, feeling guilty enough as it was.

Sam had begged Dean to fight in that hospital, he had begged Dean to come back, and Dean did, unable to refuse his little brother. And now, if Sam's fears were proven true and this chick died… Well, his brother would need him, need Dean to be the strong one. Dean sighed mentally. He was tired of being the strong one. For once, he just wanted it all to be over. He just wanted a home and a real family, and no more monsters hiding in the dark. But since when did he get what he wanted anyway?

He picked up two different pastas he knew Sam liked, and took his time choosing the sauce. The line at the register was surprisingly long considering the hour, but he was in no hurry. Geek boy was doing all the research, which, for once meant his brother might get laid. Or maybe he already had. He was being less broody. He slept better, too, which was surprising considering the nightmare and its possible meaning.

Dean grinned at a cute woman not far from him. Well, he could have some fun too, while they were… waiting. Or doing a poor ass job, as he rather calling it. But hey, potato-potato, right? A sudden urge to get some fries was soon eradicated.

He moved in closer to the woman, who was trying to reach for something on a higher shelf. He effortlessly took it down for her, and she smiled at him, offering him her gratitude. He was just about to make his move when he noticed the baby stroller. Well, that was his cue. Never hit on a mother, no matter how cute. Well, there were exceptions, but not today. The baby stirred in the stroller, but didn't seem to wake.

"That's a cute little baby you've got." He offered, and she beamed with pride. Might as well make her day. It wasn't any day that someone like Dean Winchester flirted with you after all…

"Oh, she's just perfect, isn't she?" the young mother beamed, reaching for the sleeping toddler and tucking the soft blanket tighter around her. Dean smiled, amusing her. "You are, you're a perfect little baby." The mother cooed, fussing over the sleeping child and Dean was about to leave when the words seemed to escape his mouth before he was even aware of them.

"How old is she?"

"Six months." The mother answered. "It passes so quickly, you know? Six months ago today I was finally out of the delivery room with this bundle of joy. That's her name, by the way. Joy." The woman smiled and Dean smiled back, though there seemed to be a lump in his throat and his stomach was doing flip-flops.

"Six months? She's six months old, today?" he asked, his voice a little husky. The mother nodded, pushing the stroller down the isle, and thanking him again for his help. Dean stared after her a couple of seconds more before going over to the register, the line having thinned. He grabbed a paper on his way, noting the date. Huh. January 24th. The front page of the local paper spoke of a neighborly feud leading to grave results and an arrest. He didn't have the time to read it through before it was his turn at the register.

He waited outside the store a few minutes more, hoping to get a chance to have a few more words with Joy's mother. He bought himself a cup of coffee from the cart at the side of the store and started reading the paper. Two neighboring farmers were arrested the previous night for disturbing the peace and causing damages. One of the farmers apparently blamed the other for mutilating his cattle. Hmm…

Dean reached in his pocket and took out his cell phone, quickly calling Sam. He got Sam's voice mail instead, so he hung up. There was still plenty of time, anyway. Besides, did he really want Sammy anywhere near that Demon again? No. No question about it. He couldn't stand the thought of It hurting Sammy again. Or worse; of It possessing Sammy. Of hearing Sam saying all those things out loud… Dean knew he wouldn't survive that. He wasn't sure he wanted to. A part of him wanted to run away as far from his life as he possibly could. Another part told him he couldn't.

Sam wasn't in the motel room when Dean got back. He tried Sam's cell again, but with the same result. Sam did leave a note though. He went over to Lynn's, to watch over her. Dean smirked. Right, kid, like I really believe all you'd be doing is watch. He put the groceries away, not feeling too hungry anymore, and smiled again at the note. Atta boy, Sammy.

But soon it was growing dark, and Sam still hadn't called or answered his cell, and Dean's stomach was wounding in knots. He paced around the small room, casting nervous glances at his watch. He couldn't wait any longer.

Sitting on his bed, he picked up the motel's phone, calling information. He gave them the woman's name, asking for her address. He was stupid enough to let Sam have the car, so that means he'll have to walk in the cold. Just great. Happy birthday, Dean. He made sure to turn his cell phone off before he left the motel room. Anger will keep him warm. A phone call at the wrong moment could get him killed. Worse, it could get someone else killed. He could buy some marshmallows and some candles on the way, he thought to himself, after all, there was going to be this big fire tonight…

TBC

A/N: Yeah, sorry about that cliffie... (not really ;) ) I was having a hard time working on this chapeter. I really miss my own computer. 17 days away from home with no end in sight... Anyway, hope you enjoyed this little chapter. Let a girl know what you think, 'k?