A/N: Wow, I'm glad so many of you responded to my pleas for a muse kicking to get back into this. Thanks for all the well-wishes and the welcome backs. Much appreciated. Please continue to let me know what you think because I'm still super nervous about posting again.

This chapter goes out to Nicole. You know who you are and thank you so much. Also, believe me when I tell you I know exactly what you mean. I could put my arm out beneath my sliding glass door, up to my shoulder. THROUGH. THE. FLOOR. And ours was a '76. The new house was only 47,000 dollars, and a dream come true, so best of luck!

CHAPTER 2

"Mnn…" Lili's lavender eyes opened, blinking as the beamed ceiling above her came into focus, the dark wood shining in the light from the fireplace. A face swam into view above her. She pushed up on her elbows, breath slamming in and out of her lungs with a panicked, high pitched wheeze. She backed up on the bed until her slender back smacked the headboard. "GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Lili, easy. I'm not gonna hurt you."

"NO! MOMMA!" A calloused hand closed over her mouth as strong arms wrapped around her. The voice whispered in her ear, familiar words with a rhythm that calmed the hammering of her heart instantly. Memories from long ago washed over her of her mother carrying her through the forest to a clearing by a small stream.

April 3, 1984

"She's beautiful." a voice said as a tall man with dark hair stepped out from behind a tree. "She looks just like you Kaela." He smiled as the shy three year old buried her olive toned face in her mother's dark hair.

"I want you to promise me something, Brady." Michaela said as she sat Lili down on the blanket to play. Michaela looked at the hunter standing in front of her. Her best friend. A man she would have given everything for had the ancient ones not forbidden their love.

"You know I'll do anything for you and baby girl."

"When the time comes…I want you to take Lili. Keep her safe. Teach her what's out there and teach her how to protect herself when it comes for her."

"Kaela?" Nolan questioned the look in her eyes as Michaela glanced at her daughter.

"Take her and teach her to have the strength she needs."

"The old ones talking again, Kaela?"

"More than that." Michaela looked at the hunter, worry darkening her lavender eyes to plum. "I've dreamed. The Darkness is coming."

She stepped out into the night, her long dark hair blowing across her light violet eyes, as she watched the clouds blot out the stars in patches. She picked at a long, unpainted nail before absently toying with the fingerless leather glove that hugged her palm. Lili pushed her hair back from her face and straightened from her lean against the door frame of the cabin as a familiar presence made itself known to her.

Her adoptive father walked down the pathway to the small house, his limp letting her gauge how tired he was with a glance. She stepped out under the smattering of clouds and walked up to him, hugging the aged hunter. "How was the hunt?"

Nolan Brady looked at the girl he rescued eighteen years ago, nearly to the day, and had come to think of as his own. "Got the demon and got out. I'm getting too old for this."

"You should have let me help. I'm not a little girl anymore. I haven't been since mother…"

"I know girl. Come inside and let's talk." Lili smiled and allowed the old man to enter the cabin. He sat down in a hand made rocker, grunting when his joints protested. Lili salted the door automatically before going to her father and taking the shotgun and rock salt from his pack and stashing the weapons in their usual, easy access, places.

"Tell me about the hunt, father."

"Lili, something big is coming. I was exorcising the demon and he muttered something about gathering darkness." Lili stopped in her tracks, her back to Nolan. She turned, her violet eyes catching the firelight.

"Is that what it said? Gathering Darkness?"

Nolan nodded. Her face clouded over, eyes veiled and not letting him see what was going through her mind. "Why, baby girl? Why is that important to you?"

Lili came to Nolan's side and crouched beside him, her hand resting on the arm of the rocker. "Mother used to tell me the story of the Old Ones. She said that the Old Ones had a dream and told her that the darkness was gathering and that it would drift over the earth like…" Lili broke off and stood, rushing to the front window of the cabin. She looked out, up at the gathering clouds seeing the odd shapes in the high banks of gray wisps.

"…sails. Blotting out the stars and life with the calling of the olden voices and the mourning of the spirits."

"Lili?" Nolan turned to her, seeing the rigid, troubled set of her shoulders. "Ya think this is the same thing that took your Ma?"

"I pray to the spirits it's not." Lili muttered, her fingers toying with the hem of her glove.

She stared up at the sky, watching the clouds swallow the light from the centuries old stars that was finally just reaching her eyes. Nolan stood and walked up to her, planting his work worn hands on her shoulders.

"Lil, if it is, there's somethin' you need to know. And I have to tell you, because I'm not gonna be around forever."

"Don't talk like that."

"It's true, baby girl. Back then that thing, it wanted you bad. For what, I don't know. But it took your momma to get to you. I saw her, how she looked after it got her. You did too. I know you don't wanna remember, but you have to. You have to fight it. Lil, I think if this… Darkness gets you… it's gonna get bad. Ya have to fight it baby girl. You have to know what you're up against and how to stop it."

Nolan dropped his hands from her shoulders and turned away, lumbering into the bedroom. Lili heard a scratching sound and Nolan returned with a beaten curse box in his hands.

"This is everything I have about that night. It's also a list of contacts I had a long time ago. The omens I tracked to find you that night are in there too." Nolan put the box on the small, scarred table top and took a step back, a grimace crossing his face as he watched her violet eyes light on the box, trepidation crossing her features at the thought of finding out about her past. He coughed and leaned against the back of one of the chairs at the table. Lili's fingers reached for the box. She slid it across the table towards her and opened the bolt holding it shut with a click that sounded deafening in the silent room. She looked at Nolan, feeling like the scared ten year old girl all over again.

Nolan's right hand came up and worked over his left bicep, massaging out a spasm. "Go ahead. Ya need… need to know, b-baby girl." Lili pushed back the lid of the curse box, jumping slightly as the lid landed against the table top with a wooden thunk.

Lili looked into the curse box, seeing something very familiar. It was her mother's charm bracelet. The hammered silver beckoned to her, runes carved into the delicate surfaces of the dangling circles. Lili pulled it from the box, her eyes welling as it caught the firelight and glowed. She looked at Nolan.

"Thank you for this." She said, holding it out. The aged hunter took the clasps in his calloused but still deft hands and fastened it on her wrist. The silver disks jangled musically when Lili lowered her wrist. She lifted old looking papers from the box, seeing sigils that she vaguely recognized from her mother's teachings. She unfolded the yellowed papers and looked over them carefully, the Old Ones' language coming back to her, rhythmic chants humming through her blood as she read the papers.

She sat them aside and pulled out a small brown leather bound journal, opening the tab that held the book closed. It was her real father's journal. Nolan watched the wonder playing over Lili's features, his eyes misting over as her long fingers tightened around the binding of the book.

The hunter coughed softly, pain radiating up his arm and piercing his chest. He moaned and Lili's head snapped up.

"Father?" Nolan gripped the front of his shirt, fingers clenching in the material as his breath left his lungs. His knees buckled and Lili eased him to the wooden floor of the cabin. "Father!"

"B-baby girl?" Nolan felt himself shifted so that his head rested on her knees.

"Don't you leave me here alone." Lili said, tears brimming in her violet eyes.

"Tol' ya …wouldn't be…around forever."

"No. Don't talk like that." She wiped tears away angrily, the jangle of her mother's bracelet making the old hunter smile.

"Lil, you don't know…this….but your momma… she was one of my…best friends." His eyes squeezed shut, tears trickling from the corners. "Ya…look jus' like'er, baby girl."

"Don't you leave me."

"The box…in the bottom. My contacts. Find W-Winchester an' Singer. They… can … help…" Nolan's eyes slipped closed and his breath left his lips on a soft whoosh. Lili sobbed once, burying her head in the hunter's still chest.

"I'm grateful." Lili began speaking in a language she hadn't spoken since her lessons at her mother's side. It flowed from her lips as if she'd been speaking it her entire life.

"Akana mukav tut le Devlesa."

She continued, wished her father well on his journey with the spirits and stood, gathering the box in her arms, along with the canister of salt and the shotgun. Outside the cabin Lili put her box and the gun in her truck and returned to the front porch, reaching for the red metal can of gasoline for the generator. She tipped the jug and allowed some of the contents to spill just inside the door, before dousing the front walls, the generator and wooden foundation of the only home she wanted to remember. She tipped the can of salt and spread a line across the doorway.

June 29, 1993

Lili heard a metallic jangle as she looked up from the book she was reading. Her father leaned against the door jamb, a key ring dangling from his fingers. "C'mon outside, Lil."

Lili stood and followed her father outside the small cabin they called home. Nolan looked at her as she walked toward the 1956 Chevy. The two-tone truck, black and gun metal metallic shone in the sunshine. Its chrome mirrors and bumpers gleamed, the small extras setting off the new paint. Lili walked around the side of the truck, watching as the light played off the metal flake contained within the silver middle stripe on the truck. She saw the symbols contained in the glimmering flecks and she moved one more step, seeing the design appear along the body lines. Combinations of Latin, Romani and something she didn't quite recognize formed a web of protection that was nearly invisible, surrounding the truck and working to protect the occupants.

"It's beautiful! Father…so much work in the design."

"It's yours, Baby girl."

"What? N-no, I can't…"

"You can, Lili. I restored her for you." Nolan gripped her hand, placed the keys in her palm, closing her fingers over them.

"But I can't even drive."

"Well then, it's time you learn." The man's eyes crinkled as he smiled as his daughter, watching her smooth a hand delicately over the paint on the truck, walking from the front where they stood, all the way to the back bumper before turning around and flashing a brilliant grin at her father. Her eyes shifted from her father to the back bumper and she stopped smiling, lavender orbs growing wide before filling with tears.

On the tailgate of the truck an ornate cross was worked, nearly invisibly, into the pattern. In the crosspiece was the word "Michaela." Lili breathed. The tears broke over her cheeks as she turned from the truck and ran into Nolan's outstretched arms. "Oh Father, thank you!"

Lili's eyes blurred at the memory and she screamed, a war cry of hatred and loss, whipping the canister of salt into the cabin. She turned, trailing dripping fuel down the front stairs. She tossed the empty can aside and pulled an old silver Zippo from her pocket, flicking the striker over the flint and dropped it at the source of the fuel trail. It caught with a whoosh and Lili pulled out of the driveway as the interior of the cabin turned into a conflagration. She flinched several seconds later when the full tank of the generator blew her past to oblivion.

"Bobby. Um… Hey."

"Dean?" Bobby's voice was concerned, picking up on something in Dean's tone. "Sam okay?"

"I'm not real sure Bobby."

"What happened, boy?"

"We were looking into a possible hunt and something happened to him. We were in the woods and this…dude, one of the guys who'd disappeared, comes out of the woods and attacks us. He was goin' for me and Sammy stopped him. The dude just ripped through Sam's jacket and shirt and scratched his arm. Grip was enough to bruise Sammy, bad. Then he just screamed and his eyes melted." Dean turned away from the window where he had moved. "Sammy's sleepin' now."

"Tell me everything that happened. Every minute." Bobby said, something nagging at him and worrying him…badly. The older hunter listened to what Dean had to say and promised to do some research on his end. He finally hung up after getting Dean's promise to get Sam to him if anything changed.

Dean tossed his phone on the bed haphazardly and went to Sam's side, sitting on the edge of the bed his too young looking brother occupied. He ran a hand down over his face and sighed. Dean reached a hand out and brushed his brother's wayward locks back from his face, feeling mild warmth radiating beneath his palm. "What the hell's goin' on with you?" He watched Sam a moment longer and then stood, moving to where the coffee pot rested on the counter in the kitchenette of the room. He ran water into the pot and set it up, listening to it begin to gurgle as he turned it on. The smell of rich coffee soon filled the room as Dean spread the case research out over the table. He poured a cup of hot coffee and sat it down on the only bare spot left on the small table, glancing at Sam as his head shifted. The youngest Winchester moaned slightly.

I had to have missed something. Dean thought as he sat in front of his research.

The black and gunmetal truck pulled into Bobby's lot, catching his attention as a vehicle he'd never seen before. He eased out from under the hood of the smoky blue '87 Monte Carlo he was overhauling and wiped his hands on the grease rag he had sitting on the radiator shroud. He watched as the dust settled and the driver's door opened. The top of a head of smooth dark hair was just visible over the roof line. Finally a young woman walked around the front of the truck and approached him. She moved completely silently, watching everything around her, watching him… the complete demeanor of a hunter.

"Can I help ya?" He asked the young woman, appraising her. She was no older than Dean. Barely thirty, with a depth to her eyes way older than her years.

"Bobby Singer?"

"That's the name." Bobby turned back to the Monte Carlo, deciding that the young woman wasn't a threat to him, but more that him watching her was about to make her bolt.

"I need to find John Winchester."

"Why?"

"My father told me to find you, and John Winchester, just before he died." Bobby didn't acknowledge her response, tightening the battery cables on the Monte, preparing to fire the rebuilt engine for the first time.

"My father was Nolan Brady." Bobby jumped at the name, banging his head off of the hood of the car, knocking his trucker's cap askew. He cleared his throat and turned back to her, adjusting his hat with a greasy hand.

"You're Lili." The girl nodded, her fingers absently tugging at her glove, making the silver discs on the bracelet she wore jangle as they caught the South Dakota sun, glinting brightly.

"Please. I need to find John Winchester. Father told me you could help."

"John Winchester died a couple years back."

Lili swallowed and looked down, her disappointment evident, but not as strong as the fear Bobby sensed coming from her.

"Look, kid, c'mon inside. We'll talk." Lili nodded and moved to follow Bobby inside the house, stopping to retrieve something from the truck. Bobby held the screen door open for her and she skirted by him.

"Do you know when father found me?"

"Yep. I helped ol' Nole get the papers 'e needed to adopt ya."

"Then you know he was there the night Momma died. He saved me from something. Something inside her that wanted me."

"I know the story well enough."

"It's back."

Bobby stared at the young woman, not doubting her one bit. "I need to make a call."

Dean sat up with a snort, a vivid hand print complete with the outline of his ring on his cheek. His phone was playing music in the background. He lunged from the chair, grabbing the phone as it ceased ringing. He was about to flip it open to return the call when it started ringing again. He nearly dropped it. Flipping it open, he ran a hand over his mouth, thumb and forefinger across the corners, and spoke.

"Yeah?"

"It's Bobby."

"Yeah, Bobby?"

"Is Sam awake?"

Dean looked across the bed at his brother. "No Bobby. He's a little restless, but he hasn't woken up."

"Look Dean, ya need to pack 'im up and get yer asses to my place ASAP."

"Why?" Dean asked, the urgency in his old friend's tone worrying him.

"Don't question me, just get here…Now." Bobby cut the call.

Dean shut his phone and tucked it in his pocket. He moved to the bed and leaned over, shaking Sam awake.

Sam moaned and tried to push Dean away, burying his head in the pillow as he rolled onto his side. He gasped and shot up on the bed, his eyes wide as he hugged his arm to his chest. "Fuck." He breathed.

"Sam?" Dean sat down on the bed beside him, turning his younger brother to face him. "Talk to me dude. What the hell's wrong?"

"Argh…my arm. Feels like its on fire."

"Where that thing touched you?" Dean grabbed Sam's arm, prying it away from his middle. "Let me see." Dean shoved Sam's loose shirt sleeve up to his elbow, taking in the vivid bruising, the black mass of Sam's flesh.

"What the fuck?" Dean exclaimed, touching the edge of the bruising. Sam winced and tried to pull back.

"Ow…Dean, that hurts."

"I'm gonna get the med kit, put something on this. Then we have to hightail it for Bobby's. He's pretty insistent."

Dean grabbed for the medical kit stowed with his gear, reaching inside for some supplies. He pulled out the small flask of Holy Water, reaching for Sam again. "See what this does."

"Besides making me want to rip my arm off?" Sam deadpanned.

"Funny." Dean said, even as he worried that was exactly what was about to happen. Dean tipped the flask over Sam's arm, drizzling holy water onto the blackened flesh. It sizzled, Sam's cry drowning out the bubble of the liquid. The youngest Winchester's head tipped back, panting, crying out. Sam tried to pull his arm back, thrashing as he screamed, Dean's heart hammering in his chest as he pinned Sam's arm and continued to pour the water over the bruise, the skin foaming.

"Easy, easy, easy." Dean chanted as Sam fought the burn of the holy water. Dean held fast to the arm, Sam's skin turning white around Dean's tight fingers. Sam bucked, shoving Dean off the edge of the bed. The flask hit the floor as Dean landed with a grunt. Sam bolted from the bed, moving away from Dean, moving into the dimly lit corner of the room. He slid down the wall, cowering, a shaking hand pulling his arm to his chest. Dean stood and made his way to his brother, crouching next to him, reaching tentatively for Sam, stopping when he flinched.

"Sammy?"

Sam backed away from Dean, back tapping off the wallpaper. He keened low in his throat as he rocked slightly, hugging his arm tight. "Sam?" Dean said, grabbing Sam's shoulders. The whimper grew louder, Dean's heart breaking at the sound. "C'mon, Sammy. It's okay." Dean hauled his brother to him, lifting the still whimpering Sam to his feet.

"It hurts. I can feel it…crawling." Sam began to scratch at his arm as Dean lowered him back to the bed.

"Stop it Dean! Stop it. God, I can feel it!" Sam dug deep into his arm, blood welling around his nails.

"Sammy stop!" Dean grabbed his hand, pulling the bloody digits away from his arm. Dean's eyes looked over the damage, seeing the black mass as it moved beneath Sam's skin. "Fuck! Okay, c'mon. We're goin to Bobby's. We need help." Dean pulled Sam upright, grabbing their bags and the car keys one handed and yanked Sam outside into the bright morning sunshine.

Sam cried out, trying to pull out of Dean's grasp. He squirmed and bucked against Dean, before making it free. He hit his knees, both hands shooting up to his face, digging his fingers deep into his eyes. Sam hunched in on himself, clawing at his face.

"SAM!" Dean barked, crouching beside Sam. He tried to pull Sam's hands away from his eyes. "SAM, STOP!"

"God, help me… D-Dean." Sam moaned. Dean jerked his arms out of his sleeves and threw his leather jacket over Sam's head, pulling his brother close. Sam sagged in Dean's arms, his head under the jacket, breathing hard.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned, pulling Sam's head up, but not lifting the jacket.

"'M okay." Sam breathed, his words muffled and slurred.

"Alright. Up ya go." Dean said, hauling Sam to his feet. The oldest Winchester steadied Sam until he felt him take a small step, then Dean walked Sam to the Impala and eased him into the back seat. Sam kept the familiar leather over his head, leaning against the door panel. Dean slid into the driver's seat and fired the engine, pulling onto the road.

Dean glanced in the rear view mirror, seeing Sam crouched in the back, the leather coat still over his head. Dean could see tremors working through Sam's body. "You alright?" He questioned.

Sam didn't respond to him, instead just muttering something unintelligible from beneath the jacket. "Hey, answer me, Sam."

Dean strained his hears when he heard Sam move in the back, eyes on the road. He heard Sam's voice, quiet and haggard, muffled. "I can hear them…"

"What?" He said, glancing up and back to the curvy two lane highway.

"Like a voice…voices, whispers…scratches on a record…" Sam moaned, a small whining sound, like Dean heard when Sam was nine and badly sick with the flu. He hunched in on himself, the jacket dragging his knees. Sam began to rock back and forth, looking like a deep brown cartoon ghost. Sam made small musical noises, humming low in a chanting rhythm.

"Sammy?" Dean watched Sam for a second longer.

Sam broke off the rhythm and gave a strangled sound from beneath the jacket, throwing himself back against the seat. Dean crossed the double yellow line and pulled into a wide spot on the shoulder, slamming the shift lever into park. The engine idled as Dean pushed his way into the back seat with his brother. Dean grabbed Sam by the shoulders and held him still as he began to writhe.

"Sam!" Dean cried, holding his brother. Sam's head flew forward, the creak of leather getting louder as Sam's forehead plowed into Dean's cheekbone, pain exploding in Dean's face. He grunted and held Sam tighter, ignoring the rapidly blossoming swelling beneath his left eye. Sam's breath caught, a high keening sound growing in the interior of the car. Sam wailed as Dean wrapped his arms tight around him, holding him still, the leather coat pulled tightly over his head. "Hey! HEY! Sam, you're alright. Stop it, Sammy!"

Dean wrestled his fidgeting brother back onto the seat once more, at a loss as he suddenly stopped fighting and slumped against him. "Sam?" Dean eased his little brother against the door panel and took the jacket off his head, laying it close by. Sam's face was pale, sweat beaded on his brow and upper lip, lines of pain ringing his mouth and closed eyes. Dean brushed Sam's tangled, damp hair back from his face and checked his pulse. "'M gonna get you to Bobby's." Dean moved from the back seat, sliding back behind the wheel. He pulled the shifter down into gear and swerved onto the road, tires barking as they went from the soft shoulder to the pavement. He glanced toward the rearview mirror, just catching a glimpse of his brother's sweaty face before casting his eyes back to the road.

January 24, 1997

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah Dad?" Dean said around a mouthful of cold pizza, his head still inside the confines of the refrigerator. The motor of the machine rumbled as the ancient compressor kicked in.

"Come here, son." John said, putting his journal and research aside. He lowered his pen to the scarred table top and reached into his pocket as he watched his son step up to the table. "Sit down." John ordered. Dean instantly complied, pulling out the cracked vinyl chair and falling into it.

"Yeah?"

"So." John said, a smile dimpling his salt and dark stubble. Dean remained silent, watching his dad.

"Happy Birthday, son."

Dean smiled. "Thanks, Dad."

John's smile faded. "I know I didn't getcha anything. With this hunt…and the trail for the thing that killed your mother gone cold, I just…"

"You didn't have to get me anything…"

"No. Hear me out Dean. I didn't get you anything because I already have what I want to give you." John pulled his hand up onto the table and Dean caught the muffled clank of metal on metal concealed in John's loose fist. He watched as his dad opened his fingers and let a key ring dangle from his thumb. "She's yours Dean. I taught you everything there is to know about that car and I expect you to take care of her."

"You're kidding." Dean said, his chin dropping.

"Nope. She's yours. Just remember she's your home. She depends on you to take care of her, and you are gonna depend on her to keep ya safe, to keep Sammy safe, someday. Treat her right."

"Yes, Sir. You know I will."

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror as he heard Sam pulling in a breath, allowing himself to surface from one of his best memories. Sam's head rolled against the door panel and Dean stepped on the gas, willing his baby to carry him a little closer to South Dakota, just a little bit faster.

"So that's how Nole came across ya?"

Lili lifted her violet eyes from the surface of the tea in front of her. "Father was mother's best friend. As a hunter, the old ones forbade mother anything other than a distant friendship with him. I think there was more there, between them, but the old ones felt that his presence would bring evil among us."

"Nolan was a good man, damn fine hunter. I'm sorry, kid."

April 12, 1993

"Hold the bow, Lil." Nolan said as he instructed the twelve year old in target shooting. Lili's thin hands held the compound bow, already toned arms pulling back on the string, holding the bow steady. One eye squinted shut and her teeth worried her lower lip.

"Open your eyes Lili. You can only see your adversary if your eyes are on it." Lili opened both eyes wide, determination shining in the amethyst depths. She let the arrow fly and smiled when it buried itself deep in the yellow ring to the right of the red center circle. "Again." Nolan said. Lili reached into the quiver at her shoulder blade and pulled another arrow, notching it. She shot and again the arrow hit the target, this time to the left and just outside the red. "Again."

Thwack. "Again."

Thwack. "Again." Thwack, thwack, thwack.

Lili let bolt after bolt fly and by the time the full quiver was empty her fingers were bleeding, she had a bowstring burn across the inside of her left elbow and was sweating and out of breath. The bulls eye was covered with fledged arrows, looking like a bouquet of neon orange flowers. Right in the center an arrow stuck out twice as far, the tip perfectly lodged in the split nock of the one in front of it. Lili lowered the bow, a sheen of perspiration on her slim arms and her forehead. She beamed at her father, the hum of excitement making her eyes a vibrant lavender. Nolan put an arm around Lili's shoulder, squeezing affectionately.

"I was lucky to have him. He taught me so much." Lili stood from the worn chair and paced to the window, where she leaned a hip against the low sill and looked up at the sky, to the clouds that lurked, low and gray, trying valiantly to blot out the sinking evening sun.

"You really are worried, aren't ya girl?"

"I think it's gonna get bad." Lili said, her soft accent showing as her breath fogged the glass.

Bobby opened his mouth to speak and his phone rang. He reached for it, seeing Lili stand straight and move away from the window out of the corner of his eye. "Hey kid. How's Sam?"

"Not good Bobby. He's runnin' a fever, hearing things."

"The spot on the boy's arm?"

"It's getting bigger, black. Bobby, it looks like he's… I dunno, got blood poisoning or something."

"How far out are ya?"

"A couple hours, tops."

"Be careful Dean. Sam's liable to be a little bit…off…as this goes on."

"What do you mean, Bobby?"

"Just be wary, son." Bobby ended the call before Dean could question him further. Dean dropped the phone on the seat beside him and glanced in the rear view, catching a glance of the leather covered lump in the back seat. Sam was quietly humming some sort of chanting melody, rocking back and forth. Dean didn't like what was happening to his brother. Or how ominous Bobby's final words were. He laid his foot on the accelerator and pushed until the pedal wouldn't yield any more.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Will try for more after the Thanksgiving Holiday/tiring 1st birthday party for my nephew. Please leave me a review! It only takes a second and makes my day!