Author's Note: Hmmm. I thought I had uploaded this yesterday, but I must have screwed something up. Apparently the site stated that I had updated, but the chapter didn't post. So hopefully I won't repeat my mysterious mistake again. Thanks to Phx for the head's up...and my sincere apologies for the confusion!

The Last Mile

Dean was sitting on the bed, the laptop balanced on his outstretched legs. His hair was still wet from his shower, making it appear almost as dark as Sam's. His head snapped up as the door swung open. Cocking his head to the side, he gave Sam a curious once over.

"Officer." Dean's voice perfectly matched his straight-faced expression as he took in Sam's outfit.

Sam quietly closed the door behind him. Taking a step back he leaned up against it, trying to put as much distance between him and Dean as possible.

"Hey." Sam's voice wobbled a bit, and he cleared his throat. "How do you feel?"

Dean put the laptop onto the bed and folded his arms across his chest. "Oh, just great, Sam. It's amazing what a full night's rest can do." His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Sam swallowed hard. He forced a smile. "Good. Good."

"So, I don't suppose you picked up some breakfast on your way back? Donuts, perhaps?" Dean snuck in another dig at his brother's outfit.

Sam turned around and grabbed the door handle. "No, but let me go grab something. I'll be right back."

He'd managed to get the door partway open before it was slammed shut. Turning his head to the side Sam saw his Dean's outstretched arm leaning against the door. His blood chilled as he felt the warm breath of his brother against his ear.

"Where were you, Sam?"

Sam turned back around and looked down at his older brother. Despite their height differences, Sam felt about two inches tall. He tried to find the words, but they wouldn't come. Dean saved him the trouble.

"You went out to Blue Corner's Road, didn't you? You took my car and went out there by yourself." Dean's voice began to get louder.

"We had no way of knowing if the ghost car was going to show last night. I couldn't take the chance that someone else would get hurt." Sam hurriedly explained.

Dean stared at him a moment longer, then backed away. Walking over to the bed he picked up his towel and ran it through his hair.

"So you what, impersonated a cop to try and keep people away from the road?" he asked, his back to Sam.

Sam pushed his hand flat against his stomach in an attempt to calm it. The butterflies that had settled in were now engaged in hostile warfare. He'd expected Dean to be furious with him. Yet he seemed oddly calm, reminding Sam of a rattlesnake warning of an attack.

"Well, yeah." Sam shrugged.

"Did the Mustang show?" Dean began to rub the towel harder. Sam could almost hear the rattling get louder as Dean prepared to strike.

Here we go, Sam thought. "Yes. But I was able to distract it long enough for the other car to get away. No one got hurt."

Dean stopped rubbing his hair. Whirling around, he threw the towel away. "Oh really?" He stormed over to Sam and reached out towards his forehead, stopping as Sam flinched. Pointing, he continued. "I don't recall you having this little beauty mark earlier."

Sam uncomfortably reworked his hair around the lump on his head, wincing as his fingertips brushed the tender area. "This? This is nothing. I'm fine."

Dean's eyes softened as Sam tried to make light of his newest injury. The kid looked like crap. The dark circles under his eyes jumped out from his pale skin. Dean grabbed Sam's chin, tilting the taller man's head down as he tried to assess Sam's condition. Although a bit bloodshot, Sam's eyes were equal and responsive. Even though he was far from fully recovered, he didn't seem to be in any immediate danger.

Sighing, Dean stepped away from his brother. Motioning for him to follow, the two men settled onto their respective beds.

"Ok. Start from the beginning." Dean said. "After you snuck out of here like a coward and stole my car, that is." he added dryly.

Sam recounted the events of the evening, starting with the woman he successfully turned away, and ending with the race to save the Corvette. "I pulled away at the last second. I think I bumped my head against the window. When I woke up the Corvette was driving away, and the Mustang was gone." Sam carefully left the fallen tree out of the story, as well as the current state of the Impala.

Dean had remained silent throughout the story. As Sam wound down he began to nod his head approvingly. "I hate to say it. Believe me, I really hate to say it, but you did all right. You still should have woken me up so I could have gotten your back," he continued, effectively cutting off Sam's smug smile, "but at least you kept everyone else safe."

Dean wasn't quite done reprimanding his younger brother. "You also should have told me you'd hit your head. I can't believe you'd risk driving my car back after sustaining another head injury."

Dean cut off his raving as a thought occurred to him. "Hey, why didn't I hear you pull up? Sam?"

Sam's eyes were cast downward. Dean got up and went to the window. "Sam? Where is my car?" he growled.

Sam finally looked up. "Uh, Dean? There's something I didn't mention."

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"A tree? You hit a fucking tree?" Dean bellowed.

The morning sun provided just enough light to illuminate the various dents and scratches on the classic car. Sam watched Dean circle around the car, taking note of every imperfection. He felt himself get slightly dizzy watching Dean duck and weave as he tried to cover every angle. Averting his eyes, Sam nervously ran his hand through his hair.

"It all happened so fast; there was no time to think. I slammed on the brakes, the car skidded—"

"Where are the mirrors?" Dean interrupted.

Sam risked a quick glance at his brother. The look being aimed at him was usually reserved for the creatures of the night that they hunted. Sam had never experienced being on the receiving end of that look. The rage burning in Dean's eyes was so powerful Sam had to take a step back.

"Um, they're in the backseat." Sam stammered.

The dizziness increased as the last few nights' events caught up with Sam. Determined not to let his weakness show, Sam casually leaned against the trunk of the car. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing, trying to tune out the flood of curse words he heard behind him.

Dean held the mirrors in his hands as he too leaned against the car. The mirror in his right hand showed an outwardly calm, if not slightly haggard looking Dean. The cracked mirror in his left hand more accurately reflected how Dean was feeling on the inside; shattered. A few days ago his biggest concern was finding a hot chic and a cold beer. But the skinwalker they'd happened upon had other plans, leaving his shoulder out of whack. Then, one small set of coordinates had brought him back to Danbury to face the consequences of his actions, leaving his confidence crushed. His car, the beloved Impala entrusted to him by his father, had barely survived a makeshift demolition derby. And then there was Sam. The emotions he felt towards his brother were also splintered. Anger, admiration, anger, concern, and more anger.

Dean put the mirrors back and began to walk towards Sam. He quickened his pace as he watched the slumped man begin to slide off the trunk.

"Whoa, there. Where ya going?" he said as he grabbed Sam's shoulders.

Sam blinked wearily. "Sorry."

Just as the morning sun continued to chase away the night, Dean felt his concern push away his anger. Shaking his head, he pulled Sam up. "Come on."

Sam stood straighter, but dug in his heels as Dean tried to pull him forward. "No, Dean. I mean, I'm sorry. About everything."

"Dammit, Sam. You sneak out behind my back, nearly get yourself killed, wreck my car, and all you can say is that you're sorry?"

Sam's mouth hung open. "Dean, I did what I thought was best. What else do you want me to say?"

Dropping his hands, Dean took another lap around the Impala before answering. The car really wasn't as bad as he'd originally thought. Some minor body work and she'd be good as new. Dean looked at his exhausted brother and decided to cut him a break.

"Well, you could start by admitting what an enormous geek you are. That you are honored to be in the presence of your handsome, incredibly generous older brother who is not letting you off the hook from the ass-kicking you deserve, but merely postponing it. And that you will do everything thing he says from now on. Everything." Dean stressed the last word, flashing a semiserious smile to let Sam know he was only partially kidding.

Sam flashed a relieved smile of his own. "Deal." he said, sticking his right hand out.

Dean looked down at Sam's hand. "See? Right there? Geek. Total dork."

Dean laughed as Sam glared back at him. "Come on. Hit the showers. We've got a ghost car to dust."