Ok, I know I promised the Jenna situation would be addressed here, but as I tweaked the chapter that I'd written ages ago, the darn thing just kept getting longer and longer! So instead of one gigantic Supersized chapter, I decided to split it into two normal sized chapters. I'm sorry!!! I blame Dean...he had a lot going on in that lovely head of his, and it all just had to get out. Sam will make his way into the Donovan house in the next chapter, which will be posted Tuesday night, Wednesday morning at the very latest. Again, I am so sorry!!!

A Mother's Love

Dean yawned loudly and shifted in the driver's seat, trying in vain to find a more comfortable position. He'd spent nearly the entire night guarding over his sleeping brother, keeping an eye out for any complications from Sam's head injury and keeping his leg stable. Apparently Dean had underestimated his own weariness; despite the pain of the hard-backed wooden chair pressing into his damaged ribs, he had still managed to nod off around dawn. Thanks to his little catnap, he now had a stiff neck in addition to his cracked ribs.

Dean paused at a stop sign and carefully turned to check on Sam. Leaning against the passenger door, Sam's head rested in his right hand while his left thumbed through their father's journal. His hazel eyes stared at some point above the book, clearly not taking in any of the words.

Dean turned his attention back to the road. "Find anything yet?" Dean asked casually.

Sam continued to stare blankly ahead, doing his best "Dean in school" impersonation. His fingers tapped absently on the pages of the book, his mind clearly elsewhere. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was occupying Sam's thoughts. A pretty young blonde had drawn Sam's focus away from his book, just like his older brother had been similiarly distracted during his formative years. However, for Sam it was seven year old Jenna Donovan who had gotten in touch with his protective nature, whereas the women in Dean's fantasies had often touched…

Dean shook his head and brought his thoughts back to Sam. Playtime later.

"Sam." Still no response. Dean tried again, punching the accelerator to give the car, and it's withdrawn passenger, a little kick. "Sammy!!"

Sam's head shot up. "Mmm?" He looked from Dean down to the journal, then back to Dean again. "Sorry."

Dean raised his eyebrows. His touchy little brother had let a "Sammy" slide by, instead offering up his own apology? Dean frowned. He'd underestimated just how bothered Sam was with this whole Jenna-thing. He supposed he understood what Sam felt. Without warning a long buried memory broke forth, playing in disturbingly vivid detail in his mind.

A tall cloaked figure hovering over a tiny figure in a motel bed. Sammy's innocent face bathed in an eerie glow as the creature prepares to feed. Himself, the heavy shotgun nearly slipping out of his sweat-slicked hands. He cocks the gun, then freezes as the creature hisses angrily.

Dean gasped as he broke out of the flashback. He quickly looked over to see if Sam noticed his unplanned trip into the past, but the younger man had resumed his sullen stare out the window. Dean wiped his face with a shaky hand and looked over at Sam one more time, reassuring himself of Sam's presence.

"Don't worry, Sammy." Dean worked hard to sound reassuring, for both himself and for Sam. "We're almost there."

"It's Sam, and we'd already be there if you didn't drive like a freakin' grandma." Sam snapped.

Dean looked over in surprise. Whoa, mood swing! And had Sam really dared to comment on his driving? Sam's eyes flashed dangerously, and Dean swallowed his own anger. Sam was just itching to take his frustrations out on something, was reaching for anything that would take his mind off of his paranoid thoughts. Dean had perfected this strategy, and although he symapthied with his brother, Dean was not about to be prey to Sam's wrath.

Dean struggled to keep his voice neutral. "Just relax, ok? We'll be there in less than five minutes."

"We should've been there twelve hours ago. If we'd have just gone when she called me..." Sam seethed. "But no, God forbid we do anything that'll upset the mighty Dean Winchester's plans."

Dean's eyes narrowed. "Getting our asses kicked by some psychotic ghost wasn't exactly in my day planner, Sam. Besides, you weren't exactly in the greatest shape last night. You could barely remember who you were last night, let alone take care of some kid."

Sam slouched down in his seat. He mumbled something under his breath that Dean wasn't quite able to catch, although the words, "…Dad were here" came across quite clearly.

Dean gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles looked like they would burst through the skin. "Sam…" he trailed off in warning. Sam had used up his freebies. If he really wanted to take this to the next level, Dean would meet him head on.

Dean glanced over to see which of the Sams he'd be finishing the drive with. Would it be the irate argumentative Sam, or the rueful, wistful Sam?

The latter personality took the forefront as Sam covered his face with his hands and meekly offered a muffled apology.

Despite Sam's contrite apology, Dean wasn't quite ready to let things go. This was the second time in two days Sam had pulled the Dad card, and he'd had it. "So you're going to throw Dad in my face every time you get pissed about something? Is that how it's going to be? Cause I've gotta tell you, Sam, I'm getting really sick of it."

"I said I'm sorry, ok?"

"Fine."

"Fine." Sam resumed his faraway stare, a worried frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, relieved to see the Donovan's street sign coming up on the left. He guided the Impala around the cul-de-sac and parked a few doors away from the Donovan's.

"Officer Darrow?" Dean asked, double-checking the identity Sam had used the day before.

Sam stared out the window at the large grey house. "Yeah." he answered distantly. His left leg began to bob up and down. "He was a lawyer."

"Uh huh. I figured it was something like that." Dean eased himself out of the car, amazed at how uncomfortable the short car ride had been. While she was the perfect car in every aspect, the Impala hadn't been able to soften the blows his ribs took every time her tires went over a dip in the road. For perhaps the first time in his life, he was relieved to step out of the car and onto the pavement.

The Impala's door squawked in protest as Dean closed it, as if she'd heard his hurtful musings. Dean instantly regretted his selfish thoughts. The old car had been through a bit of a rough time lately. She must have been terrified to have Sam at the wheel yesterday; the memory of the two of them careening through the Welch's rotted old house was probably still way too fresh. It certainly was for Dean.

The driver's side window was down, and Dean laid his hand on the door. "Come on, you're still my girl." he affectionately reached in and gave the leather a gentle caress. Dean sighed as the warm leather tickled his palm. If only everyone in his life were as easy to get along with.

Having appeased one cranky individual, Dean turned his attention to the other. He stuck his head into the car and watched, semi-amused as Sam's leg continued it's jittery bouncing.

"Yo, Thumper."

Sam finally tore his eyes away from the Donovan house. His leg stilled as he glowered silently at Dean.

Dean held up his palm. "Five minutes, ok?"

Sam darted his gaze from Dean to the house, then back again, his hazel eyes widening pointedly when they landed on his brother. Dean backed out of the car, but not before sternly repeating his last order. He pulled his fake police badge from his pocket and walked up the steps to the front door. With the driveway empty and the curtains drawn, Dean wasn't even sure anyone was around. He fervently hoped that the family was home, for his own sake as much as Sam's. Sam's doubts had begun to spill over onto Dean, the guilt from his own past mistakes making him nearly as edgy as Sam. Jenna was fine. She just had to be.

Mr. Donovan answered almost immediately to Dean's knock. A flip of the badge, a few authoritative words with just a hint of sympathy, and Dean was in. Following Mr. Donovan into the house, Dean flashed a quick look in the direction of the Impala, then shut the door.

Again, my apologies for dragging things out a bit. Things'll definitely pick up in the next chapter...I promise!