SUMMARY: A vengeful spirit's attack leaves Dean hypothermic and fighting for life, while a concussed Sam, lost and alone, battles to get back to his brother. Story takes place mid-to-late Season 2, but before the events of All Hell Breaks Loose.

DISCLAIMER: Nope. Don't own Supernatural. Still playing in Kripke's sandbox. Looks like the strike is over and Kripke & Co. are ready to move back in, but I'll just keep playing in this corner and hope they don't notice me.

A/N: Well, the votes on loopy Dean are in and we're all nuts – about high-as-a-kite Dean that is. We're certainly nuts about a little show by the name of Supernatural and I, for one, am perfectly okay with that. Enjoy.

BRIDGING TWO SOLITUDES

CHAPTER 13:

"Tomorrow?"

Bobby nodded. "Unless we get rid of Agnes's spirit before tomorrow night, we'll have to wait a whole year before we can try again."

Dean shrugged. "Would that be so bad? She couldn't hurt anyone until then. We could just come back next……"

"No."

Dean raised his eyebrows at Sam's interruption. His brother's voice was soft but emphatic. "What's the rush, Sam?"

Sam grimaced as he swallowed around the feeding tube. He shuffled uncomfortably in the bed as he looked from Bobby to Dean. "I owe Mary. We need to do it now."

Dean frowned. "Mary? The chick spirit out in the woods?"

Sam nodded. "She's trapped in this nightmare existence, Dean; chased by the man responsible for her death for more than a century. She deserves some peace."

Dean noted the all-too-familiar stubborn set of his brother's jaw. Now Sam had made up his mind to help this spirit, nothing and no-one would dissuade him. He sighed. "Look, Mary saved my butt too. I get that you wanna ride in and rescue the damsel in distress, even if this one's already dead, but first we need to take care of the bridge bitch who put us both in the hospital."

Sam shook his head. "They're connected, Dean. We have to help them both."

Bobby shoved his hands in his pockets as he nodded at Sam. "Okay. What about this. If I can track down Corrigan's remains, we can get rid of him. If we can't get to Agnes in time, Mary would at least be left alone."

Sam shook his head again. "No, she's been alone too long." He had been lost in the woods for two days and his battered mind had conjured up an imaginary version of his brother to keep him company and keep him sane. He couldn't imagine how Mary had coped over a century, especially with her killer perpetually in pursuit. By all rights, she should be a violent spirit, as angry as Corrigan if not worse, and yet she was far from it.

Sam glanced from Bobby to his brother, knowing this was the part of the conversation where he was in for a fight. "I, um…..I want to reunite Mary with her mother."

Dean's eyes widened. He grabbed the safety rail of the bed and hauled himself up to better see his brother. He inhaled sharply at the pain the sudden movement caused, his right arm wrapped around his torso, his breathing shallow and rapid. "You wanna do what?"

Sam looked at his brother worriedly. The color had drained from Dean's face as he sat up and the left arm he'd locked onto the safety rail of his bed for balance was trembling noticeably. Sam pressed his call button before answering his brother's question. "Mary's been trying for 130 years to go home. Her home doesn't exist anymore. But her mother does, in a manner of speaking. If she can see her mother again, I think she'll be able to, you know, move on."

Dean glared at his brother. "Damn it, Sam. You and that bleeding heart of yours. How many times do I have to tell you: Rule Number One - you don't make friends with Casper, you shoot him in the face with rock salt?"

Sam tilted his head stubbornly. "I thought Rule Number One was we do what we do and we shut up about it."

Dean pointed his finger at Sam. "Only room in this family for one smartass and the job's taken." His face contorted in pain. "Sonovabitch."

Sam pressed the call button again. "Dean? What's goin' on with you?"

Dean closed his eyes, attempting a smile but failing miserably. "It's just, um…"

He was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Doc, now dressed in jeans, t-shirt and suede jacket, came in first followed by a night nurse. Doc's eyes quickly settled on Dean, recognizing he was in distress.

Dean smiled grimly at her. "Good timing, Doc. I think I need a refill of that happy juice that seems to work so well."

Doc frowned, lowering the safety rail of his bed and gently pushing Dean to lie down as she methodically began checking his vitals. She glanced over at Bobby as she pumped the blood pressure cuff on Dean's arm. "What's goin' on here, guys? I was just about to leave because I thought you two had turned in for the night."

Bobby smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Doc." He glanced at the night nurse who had accompanied her into the room. "We have some, er, deadline issues with the project we're currently working on."

Doc's frown deepened further as she noted Dean's increased breathing rate and the more pronounced way he was favoring his ribs. She lifted his T-shirt and began gently examining his ribs through the bandages that supported them. Her frown softened as she looked up at Heather, the nurse. "When was the last time he got a dose of morphine?"

Heather checked Dean's chart. "Just over four hours ago."

Doc nodded. "Okay, let's give him another shot but increase the dosage. I want him to sleep through the night." She filled in the chart offered to her by the nurse, who then nodded and left the room to get the medication.

With the nurse gone, Doc's smile vanished and her eyes flashed angrily as she reached for the oxygen tubing coiled on the wall behind Dean. "If you guys are trying to piss me off, it's working." She moved to place the oxygen canula under Dean's nose but he batted her hand away."

"What the hell, Doc? I'm done with that crap."

"Not any more, you're not." She gently but firmly moved his hand out of the way and settled the canula in place. "Your oxygen levels are too low. This should help get them back where they should be while you're sleeping."

Worry tempered her anger as she moved again to examine Dean's ribs. "I'll need x-rays to confirm it but I think one of those cracked ribs is now broken." She raised her eyebrows at Dean. "What happened to 'I'll be good?"

"I didn't get out of bed," he offered lamely.

Doc frowned at him. "You didn't go to sleep either, which is what you were supposed to be doing." She turned to glare at Bobby. "What was so all-fired important it couldn't wait until tomorrow?"

Sam answered before Bobby could. "Bobby found out we have to salt and burn Agnes before tomorrow night or she vanishes until next year. And we can't let that happen because if Mary's ever gonna find peace, we have to reunite her with Agnes first."

Doc's eyebrows arched in surprise. "You boys have been busy. When did you figure all this out?"

Dean winced as Doc's hands found a tender spot over his ribs. "Ow." He looked up at Doc. "We don't HAVE to reunite the spirits, that's just Sam being a boy scout and wanting to do a good deed, but Agnes needs to go before she hurts someone else. And Corrigan – that bastard messed with Sam and he messed with my gun; I'm not lettin' that go."

Doc frowned. "Forgive me for pointing out the obvious here, Dean, but you're in no shape to take on Corrigan, Agnes or anyone else for that matter." She glanced over at Sam. "And for the record, neither are you. If something needs to be done now, let Bobby and I take care of it."

Simultaneous objections from Sam and Dean were quickly cut off by Bobby. "Right now, it's kind of a moot point since we don't know where either Corrigan or Agnes is buried."

Sam frowned. "Dean told me Corrigan was buried in an unmarked grave, but how come you haven't found Agnes?"

Bobby shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "I had no problem tracking down her husband and sons. They're buried in the old section of the town cemetery. Problem is, Agnes committed suicide. That's a sin, at least according to the local pastor at that time who wouldn't allow her to be buried on hallowed ground. Her nephews, who took over the family farm after she died, buried her near the orchard in the northwest corner of the property."

Dean winced, holding his ribs as he tried to sit up again until a warning look from Doc stilled him quickly. "Fine then. We just need to find this orchard."

Bobby scratched the top of his ball cap. "That's where we run into another problem. The orchard was plowed under about 30 years ago when they cut the interstate through. I can't find any records of them moving a body so, if they somehow managed to miss her, she's buried under a few tons of asphalt on the I-90."

Dean banged the safety rail on his bed in frustration. "Sonovabitch. Three freakin' spirits and we can't find one of them. Where is it written that Winchesters can't catch a freakin' break."

"I know where Mary is."

Three sets of eyes quickly turned toward Sam, but Dean was the first to voice his surprise. "Nice little nugget to keep to yourself, Sam."

Bobby walked up to Sam's bedside. "You wanna tell us how, since her body's been missing for more than a century?"

Sam seemed puzzled by their surprise. Hadn't they seen her remains when they'd found him? "She showed me. Mary showed me where she died."

At this point, Heather the nurse returned with the morphine, which she injected into Dean's IV. Bobby and Dean waited impatiently as Doc and Heather exchanged further information about Dean's medication and Doc scheduled Dean for further x-rays first thing in the morning.

As Heather left, closing the door behind her, Dean rolled his head across the pillow to face his brother. "So Mary knows she's dead?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. She was hurt when Corrigan and his partner kidnapped her but, after she heard them talking about killing her, finishing the job, she managed to escape. She ended up hiding herself in this hollow and that's where she died. I don't know whether the head injury or exposure or something else was the cause of death but she never climbed out of that hollow – at least alive. At some point her spirit discovered her human remains – and I can only imagine what kind of head games that must have played with her. But she never turned violent. She just wants to get away from Corrigan and go home."

Bobby nodded. "Poor kid, but that at least means we're one for three on the spirit front. Just tell us where she is, then Doc and I will go and salt and…."

Sam cut him off. "No way, Bobby. I need to be there. I need to tell Mary…."

Now it was Dean's turn to interrupt. "Are you nuts? You're not goin' out there. Look at you."

Sam glared at Dean. "I'm not the one hopped up on morphine just to make it through the day."

Dean returned the glare "And I'm not the one eating my lunch through a straw up my nose."

Bobby held up his hands, trying to placate the two Winchesters. "Boys come on, you really need to…."

Sam interrupted again. "I need to be out there." However they had managed to miss seeing Mary's remains, it gave Sam a trump card - and he played it. " I'm the only one who knows where Mary is buried. I need to….."

"Chill. You need to chill. Whoa." Dean blinked owlishly, trying to force his vision back into focus. The morphine was kicking in and, while he was suddenly feeling way more comfortable, he was also feeling increasingly sleepy. He frowned at his brother's stubborn glare. "Quit lookin' at me like that, Sam. I'm fine." His frown suddenly relaxed, replaced by a sleepy smile. "Few more minutes and I'll be more than fine." He rolled his head across the pillow to look at Doc. "You should give Sam some of this stuff. Might make him less cranky."

Sam frowned. "I'm not cranky, Dean. I just wanna help Mary. I need to help Mary."

Doc looked over at Sam. "Fine. Then let us help. Tell us where you found the body and we'll go and take care of it."

Sam shuffled uncomfortably. "I can't tell you. I need to show you."

Doc sighed. "Do I have to remind you the only way you're moving around right now is on crutches. Crossing this room without landing on your ass is one thing, but maneuvering your way through the bush is a whole different ballgame."

Sam's frustration was clear. "I'm not being difficult, Doc. I just don't think I could describe where she is well enough that you could find it, at least given the deadline we're working against. But I'd recognize it if I saw it. Please. I need to do this."

Doc had lowered Dean's bed so it was completely flat, meaning the cabinet between the two beds now obscured his view of Sam. Dean smiled up at Doc as he listened to his brother's plea. "He's using the puppy-dog eyes, isn't he?"

Doc bit back a smile, despite her worry. "Don't worry, Dean. I'm immune."

Dean shook his head. "Nope. No one's immune. When Sammy gives you that look – you just can't say no. Wish I could bottle the damn thing. Make me a fortune."

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother's ramblings then frowned when he realized Dean was humming – something that sounded suspiciously like Take Me Out to the Ballgame. "Is he okay?"

Doc smiled. "It's just the morphine. It's a slightly stronger dose than you've seen him on up to now because I want it to knock him out, let him sleep comfortably until morning. That's the best thing for him."

She raised her eyebrows at Sam. "Just like it's the best thing for you. I don't want to sedate you too, Sam, but I'll do it if I have to. You need to get some sleep."

Sam fisted the bedcovers as he looked from Doc to Bobby. "Fine, I'll stay in bed, but only until Dean wakes up. Then…."

Dean's voice cut him off. "I'm awake. Where we goin'?"

Doc smiled down at Dean. "The only place you're going is to sleep. Just relax and let it happen."

Dean nodded, his eyes slowly closing. "Kay. But I gotta look out for Sammy. Keep him safe."

Doc raised the safety rail on the bed. She then reached over and squeezed Dean's hand. "Sam'll be fine, Dean. I'll make sure he's stays put until you wake up. Now please, get some sleep."

Dean nodded, and within a few seconds he was asleep. With one Winchester now doing what was best for him, Doc turned her attention to the other. "Now, do I need to order a sedative?"

"Doc, I don't…."

"Sam." Bobby's voice was a warning growl. "The only hope in hell you have of getting out of here to take care of Mary is with Doc's help. I strongly suggest you don't piss her off."

Sam slumped back against his pillows. "Fine." He frowned suddenly. "When you found me, did you see a necklace, a locket anywhere?"

Doc nodded. "Yeah. You had a pretty tight grip on it. I had to pry your hand open to take it from you. Why's it so important?"

Sam looked from Doc to Bobby. "Mary had it with her when she died It's the key to reuniting her with her mother. Where is it?"

Bobby reached inside his vest pocket, pulling out a tissue which he unfolded to reveal the gold locket inside. "This what you're looking for? Dean asked me to keep it safe until he could ask you about it." Bobby walked forward and dropped the necklace into Sam's waiting hand.

Sam fumbled with it a few times before successfully pulling it open and revealing the old photos inside. He turned it so Doc and Bobby could both see. "This is Agnes and her husband, and Mary and her brothers."

Bobby nodded. "I recognized Agnes from the bridge. Looks a lot friendlier in the photo but it's definitely the same woman. Mary, I recognized her from out where we found you."

Sam nodded. "Then did you see this?" He pointed to the tiny braid of hair that encircled the photograph of the three Graham children. "That's Agnes's hair, and hair from her three kids all braided together. If I can take this locket to the bridge, Mary should be able to transport herself there because a physical piece of her will be there as well."

Doc frowned. "But if Mary can go where the necklace is, or Agnes too for that matter, why can't you just call her here? Just tell her what you're planning, then we can avoid you having to go all the way out there into the bush."

Bobby shook his head. "Wish it was that simple, Doc. Neither Agnes nor Mary may know they have the ability to move around like that. It's like most spirits can't pick up solid objects but some, over time, learn to control them. Make it look like they're picking them up – like Corrigan apparently did with Dean's gun. Moving from place to place would be a learned behavior but Mary has to know she's capable of it before she can even try."

Sam nodded. "I asked Mary, in a foot-in-my-mouth kinda way, if she'd ever seen the spirit of her mom. She hadn't. So, obviously, Agnes has never figured out she could move freely between the bridge and where her daughter died because of the physical link. On a subconscious level, however…."

Bobby nodded, following Sam's train of thought. "That's how she transported you from the bridge to a place almost a hundred miles away. Thinking you were Corrigan, she blamed you for her daughter's death and that anger and hatred somehow fuelled an ability to toss you in the middle of nowhere, right to where her daughter died clutching that locket."

Sam looked at the locket in his hand. "I think if I can explain that to Mary, then get the necklace to the bridge, she'll be able to transport herself there. If she has a chance to see her mother one last time, say goodbye, then maybe that will be enough to put her spirit to rest."

Doc folded her arms and considered the information Sam had presented. "But that won't solve the problem with Agnes."

Sam shook his head. "No. We need to find where she's buried and salt and burn her remains, otherwise, even if I destroy the hair in the necklace, it won't get rid of her."

Bobby turned to Doc, motioning with his head toward Sam. "You really think he's up for a trek into the bush?"

Doc's eyes widened. "Of course not." She cut off Sam's objection before he could start. "But other than tying him to the bed or injecting him full of sedatives against his will, both of which tend to be frowned upon, he's going to do it whether I want him to or not."

"I have to, Doc," Sam said quietly.

Doc's worried gaze travelled from Sam to his sleeping brother. "And you know wherever Sam goes, Dean's going to be right behind. There's no way in hell I can keep him in here if Sam is off chatting up a spirit, especially with Corrigan lurking in the background."

She frowned at Bobby. "How're you gonna get there, anyway? Is Joe coming back?"

Bobby shrugged. "Haven't asked him yet. Obviously, that would be the best and fastest way to get there and, given time is of the essence……" Bobby glanced at his watch. "I'm gonna go call him. I'll be right back."

Doc nodded, turning to Sam as soon as Bobby left the room. "Okay, here's the deal. Officially, I am totally against this idiocy. You and your brother need rest, medication, even a little pampering, while you heal. You do not need another ghost busting trek through the bush, one that'll likely add new injuries to the lengthy list you already have."

"But?" Sam smiled hopefully.

Doc shook her head. "Oh no. You take that puppy-dog look of yours, and stick it back in the doghouse where you belong." She quirked an eyebrow at Sam. "You're scheduled for a full exam in the morning, right before they take the feeding tube out. If there are no complications, well…." Her frown deepened at Sam's hopeful expression. "Damn it, Sam." She sighed. "Okay, but two things: one, you eat your breakfast and keep it down or you're not going anywhere. And two; you take your crutches and make it from one end of the hallway outside to the other without breaking a sweat. If you can do that, we'll talk."

Sam nodded. "Deal." He glanced over at his brother. "What about Dean?"

Doc looked over at the elder Winchester, still sleeping soundly "Like you, where he is now is the safest place for him. I'm concerned he may have broken a rib. If that's the case, there's no way he should be wandering around in the bush. Forget Corrigan; even a simple trip could send that broken rib into a lung and then he'd be in big trouble." She sighed audibly. "Once I have a look at his x-rays in the morning, I'll know more but if you're determined to do this, stopping your brother from following you will be next to impossible."

Sam smiled. "Yeah. He's kinda stubborn."

Doc rolled her eyes. "I'd noticed. And it runs in the family."

Sam shrugged, his grin widening. "What can I say? I learned from the best."

The door opened and Bobby walked back into the room. He wasn't smiling. "We've got a problem. Joe's out on job and won't be available for 24 hours – which is about 8 hours too late on our schedule."

Sam's smile disappeared completely. "Now what?"

Bobby sighed. "I managed to catch him on a refueling stop. He made a couple of calls to friends of his in the forest service. There's a ranger station about 30 miles from where we found Sam. We need to drive up there, then we can borrow one of the ranger's vehicles that can handle the off-road trails in that part of the park." He glanced from Sam to Dean. "It's gonna be rough goin' so I'd really rather you and Dean sat this one out."

Sam shook his head. "No. No way, Bobby."

Bobby shrugged. "Pretty much what I thought you'd say but it was worth a shot. What do you say, Doc?"

Doc gaze didn't move from Sam. "Sam already knows my thoughts on this plan."

Her jaw clenched as she turned to Bobby. "Both Sam and Dean have tests in the morning; the results will decide whether I turn my back when they leave here or handcuff them to the bed."

Sam did a pretty good impression of a Dean grin. "You have handcuffs?"

Bobby smiled. "Sounds like a fair deal to me, but I need another favor Doc."

"Name it."

"I need you to handle the research while we go and take care of Mary's remains."

Doc shook her head. "No way. I'm not letting these two out of the hospital if I'm not close by to patch them back together when something happens, because it always does."

Sam's jaw clenched. "We can look after ourselves, Doc. We've been doin' it a long time."

Doc sighed. "I know that, Sam. But I've had a hand in putting you and your brother back together this week and, trust me, you're not ready to go back in the ring just yet."

Bobby nodded. "I agree with you, Doc, and I'd rather you were with us too, but we're running out of time. It's gonna take us the better part of three hours by car to get to where we found Sam. That's six hours of travel time out of the 10 hours we'll have left by the time we get going tomorrow. We need someone to keep working on finding Agnes while we're gone."

Bobby checked his watch. "Library's open for another 40 minutes. I'm gonna head over there now, see if I can talk them into letting me stay past closing time. See what I can come up with."

Doc nodded. "I'll come with you. Two heads are better than one and if we can find out something tonight, then I can keep an eye on these two tomorrow."

Sam smiled softly. "Thanks Doc, for everything. You too, Bobby."

Doc quirked an eyebrow at Sam. "Look, part of our deal was you get some sleep. I'm holding you to that."

Sam wriggled down in the bed. "Hey, this is me: sleeping." He ground his head into the pillow and closed his eyes. "But Bobby?"

Bobby stopped, his hand on door to the room as he started to pull it open. "Yeah?"

Sam's eyes remained closed. "Just in case you were thinking of sneaking off without me, without us, I'll hotwire a car and find my own way up there, if I have to. I have to do this."

Bobby looked from Sam to Doc. "You got anything in your bag of tricks that will kill off that Winchester stubborn gene?"

Doc smiled. "Science isn't that advanced, Bobby. But one day….."

The two of them left the room, closing the door softly behind them.

Sam opened his eyes at the sound of the door closing, and stared down at the locket he was still holding. He ran his thumb gently over the surface then opened it, staring at the photo of Mary and her two brothers. They had been so close. Dean had told him how Mary's brothers had led the search to find their sister. How they had broken Corrigan and Shepherd out of jail to try and force them to take them to Mary. How they had given their lives trying to save their little sister.

Sam looked suddenly from the locket to the sleeping form of his brother in the adjacent bed. That's what big brothers did.

All his life, he'd had Dean looking out for him. When he was a kid and he fell down, it was Dean who picked him up and dusted him off. When he started school, it was Dean who walked him to class, and picked him up at the end of the day. When bullies threatened him, it was Dean who beat the crap out of them. When their Dad had handed him a gun at the age of nine to take care of the monsters in the closet, it was Dean who taught him how to shoot it.

Oh, they'd butted heads, hard, especially as Sam moved through his teen years and grew more and more unhappy living the nomadic existence their father's quest for vengeance required but, until he left for Stanford, Dean was always there for him.

At Stanford, he'd got his first true taste of so-called normal life. He'd loved the classes and the dorm life. He'd never been happier than when he was starting to build a life with Jess, but not being able to share this new happiness with his big brother always made it seem incomplete. He feared, for a time, that the hunting world had driven a wedge between them that couldn't be removed.

But it had been – slowly and painfully. They'd been through hell over the past year and a half – he'd lost Jess, they'd lost their Dad, he'd almost lost Dean on more than one occasion but through it all, through everything the hunting world threw at them, their fractured relationship was being repaired. He'd stood at Dean's bedside after the demon-driven semi had plowed into the Impala, willing his brother to wake up from his coma. "You can't go now," he'd said. "We were just starting to be brothers again."

He turned back to the locket and looked again at the picture of Mary and, for a brief moment, wondered what it would be like to have a little sister, or brother. Of what it could be like if he was the big brother. Could he handle the responsibility?

With Mary, he'd got a taste of it, of what Dean must have carried throughout their lives. In many ways, it was overwhelming. By helping Mary move on he was proving to himself, if no one else, he could handle it. That, while he wasn't the big brother, he could be there for Dean too.

He turned again to face his brother's bed. His words were soft but unmistakable as he drifted off to sleep. "Thanks Dean."

xxxXXXxxx

It had been a busy morning. Both Winchesters faced a battery of tests when they woke up but the results had been promising. The crack in Dean's rib had widened slightly but the rib was not broken. His lungs were almost clear, his oxygen levels were better and his temperature was only slightly above normal. Even the limp caused by his bruised hip was slightly less pronounced.

Sam's vision was almost back to normal and his headache was well within the tolerable range. The swelling in his knee had started to subside and, after a lengthy discussion with Sam, his doctors had agreed to rehabilitation through physical therapy rather than surgery. He'd been told careers in the NBA and NFL were out but, eventually and with exercise, the knee would be almost as good as new. It the meantime, the bulky brace with Velcro straps would become a part of his daily wardrobe for the foreseeable future.

The best, and worst, part of the morning was getting rid of the feeding tube. Sam was thrilled it was gone but Dean hadn't been kidding when he described the removal process as sucking out loud. Sam was a pale shade of green by the time it was done and shot Dean a few murderous looks as he enjoyed his own breakfast with relish deliberately exaggerated for Sam's benefit. And then Sam had had to eat his own breakfast as part of his deal with Doc. The chicken broth wasn't so bad but then came a bowl of orange Jell-o, and Sam had never been a big fan of Jell-o.

After a few more tests, Doc had ordered him one more course – a bowl of oatmeal. Sam turned on the puppy dog eyes full force. "Come on, Doc. I….."

But Doc was insistent. "Uh-uh. You eat that or no deal. If you're planning a trek through the woods, you need carbs. Now eat up. That'll stick to your ribs"

"Stick to my ribs?" Sam's expression was suspiciously close to a sulk as he studied the bowl of thick oatmeal.. "We could patch a hole in the Impala's tires with this stuff."

But he'd eaten it, then Doc had made him fulfill his other promise from the night before; to walk the entire length of the corridor, using his crutches. When he'd done so, she'd reluctantly agreed to Sam, and Dean, leaving AMA. They were dressed and waiting in the hospital lobby by the time Bobby showed up in a rented SUV. Doc had insisted on the big vehicle knowing the extra space inside would lessen, if not alleviate, the misery the brothers' faced during the six hours they were about to spend in the car. She'd re-bound Dean's ribs and handed him a bottle of painkillers, insisting he take two before they even left the hospital.

Doc wasn't going with them; she was headed back to the library. Bobby had been able to sweet-talk the librarian into allowing them to stay in the records room overnight and their research had yielded mixed results. They'd found out where Corrigan was buried but had yet to discover where Agnes was. Doc would keep digging through the cemetery records while they took care of Mary's remains.

Sam slept for most of the ride up to the ranger station. Dean suffered in silence, only the perspiration on his forehead and upper lip giving away how much pain he was in. By the time they transferred to the ranger's Jeep for the off-road leg of the journey, it was Dean's turn to be a pale shade of green.

Thanks to compass co-ordinates Joe had recorded, Bobby was able to navigate to the clearing where the chopper had dropped them off three days earlier. When Bobby pulled the Jeep to a stop and turned off the engine, Dean quickly pushed open the passenger side door and slowly pulled himself out, his breathing still rapid and shallow.

Sam watched his brother worriedly as he opened the back door and prepared to pull himself out. "Dean? You okay?"

"No Sam, I'm not okay," Dean snapped. "I feel like crap." He regretted the tone the minute the words were out of his mouth. "Look, I'm sorry. It's a bad reaction to the pills Doc gave me, or something. Let's just get this done."

Sam hauled himself to his feet and used the Jeep to keep him balanced while Bobby passed him his crutches. Dean limped to the rear of the Jeep and lifted the hatch to pull out their weapons bag. He loaded the shotgun in silence.

Sam and Bobby exchanged glances. Dean usually got quiet when he was pissed or in pain. It looked to Sam that, right now, he was both. "What's eating you, Dean."

Dean's left hand holding the shotgun dropped to his side as his right hand wrapped around his tender ribs. He was fighting to get his breathing under control and his green eyes blazed with anger. "For a guy who practically lives in a car, those were three of the most miserable hours of my life. I hold Corrigan and Agnes responsible for that. The only thing that's gonna make me feel better right now is if I get one more chance to blast him right between the eyes. Right before we head back and salt and burn his ass for good."

Dean's eyes flashed dangerously as he turned and yelled into the forest beyond. "Show your face you sonovabitch."

To Be Continued……

A/N: More trouble ahead, I promise. Hope to see you back. Thanks so much for reading and leaving such wonderful comments. I really do love reading them so, please, send more. Next chapter should be up before the end of the week.