Finals...are...killer =A=;;;;

But tomorrow's my last day and I'm getting a new laptop over break :D yay! So who knows, maybe I'll be writing more ^^ *hopefully*

Imma excited! 8D

And some of you may have noticed in this story that Sam is still talking to Dean despite the fact he's deaf. Like I said before, he only does that to keep himself calm, as a sort of reassurance to him. Plus he's treating Dean as he normally would *well if he was sick or dying XD* and not as an invalid.

It kinda annoys me when people look at those who are deaf, blind, or mute or those with mental or physical incapabilities *such as my older brother and 6 yr old step sis* in a different perspective or make fun of them. They don't need pity or disrespect! They need kindness and respect! They deserve to be treated like individuals! *Deep breath* KK...sorry, just had to get that off my chest. Anyways...Enjoy *innocent smile*

I own only Clare and the plot :P

Supernatural: (C) Eric Kripke! :D

Eight hours later, John pulled the Impala up in front of a diner. They had made it so to a tiny town somewhere in western Pennsylvania with minimum stops, most being stops to fill up the gas guzzler that was the Impala. But it didn't take long for growling stomachs to remind them that none of them had eaten anything since the night before. It would take them another seventeen hours to get back to Sioux Falls South Dakota and another hour or so to reach the Singer Auto Yard. So what would another pit-stop hurt? Sam got out after Bobby and John, helping Dean out next and maneuvering him to lean against the side of the Impala as he took the keys from John. Sam then moved to the trunk, unlocking it, picking up Clare's food and water dishes and the bag of kitten kibbles he had bought awhile back, and headed back to the backseat of the Impala, where Clare was watching him with curious green eyes and a tilt of her head.

Sam smiled whimsically, wishing he could carry the strange, adorable bundle of fur with him. But he knew the patrons of the diner, especially the owners, wouldn't take so kind to having something with fur inside their supposedly hygienic and well kept establishment.

"Sorry, sweetie. But you'll have to wait here. Do you think you'll be alright for a few minutes?"

Clare meowed in response, her bowed mouth seemed to curl up even further in a weird smile-like fashion. She then began purring. Sam laughed and poured her some food. He then grabbed an unopened water bottle from the glovebox and emptied it's contents into the water dish, placing them both on the floor of the Impala.

"I'll try to bring you back something," Sam promised, giving the cat a quick scratch under the chin before he proceeded to make sure the window was cracked a bit to allow cool, fresh air to flow inside the interior before shutting the door. He made sure the locks were set before he took hold of Dean's elbow, guiding him towards the diner, John and Bobby following in tow.

SPNSPNSPN

Immediately after crossing the threshold, Dean felt a sense of unease. Though he couldn't see, he did feel more than a dozen or so eyes looking in his direction. He could practically sense the auras of pity and questioning emanating from each individual soul. It made him feel even more uncomfortable and he sought refuge by clinging tighter to Sam's arm with the hand of the arm Sam had hold of. He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, followed by a simple, firm but gentle squeeze.

"People are staring at me, Sammy," Dean couldn't hear how whiny his voice sounded. And he hated that. Made him sound even more desperate than he wanted to let on. But his father, surrogate father, and little brother didn't complain. They had to be strong for the distraught and incapable hunter. It was all they could do.

Sam's grip on Dean's shoulder tightened as he used his taller frame to shield his big brother from leery eyes as he led him to an empty table at the far end of the diner. Bobby and John gave everyone they passed a warning glare to mind their own business, and they immediately obliged, quickly going back to eating and the room was soon full with a dull din of indistinct chatter.

"Damn idjits," Bobby grumbled, giving the room one more stern glare. He and John sat opposite of Sam and Dean; the oldest of the two sitting close to the window, practically leaning against it, his head lying on the cool glass. His clouded eyes looked distant. Sam's heart broke more seeing his hero look so broken and depressed. He wished he knew how he could help him.

A young waitress approached their table, pad and pen at ready, held in delicate, manicured hands. She had a beaming, red-rimmed smile, showing off her perfectly straight, white teeth. Her straw-colored hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, a few strands sticking out to frame her oval-shaped face. Her sapphire eyes seemed to sparkle with an everlasting jubilance. Sam noticed her uniform seemed to show her hourglass figure quite well, especially her bosom, some of which he could see peeking out from her partially unbuttoned blouse, something she may have done deliberately upon seeing two handsome young guys such as Sam and Dean. Sam mentally rolled his eyes at the thought. He wasn't interested in any sort of relationship; what with it being nine months since Jessica had been kil-passed away. But he knew that Dean would be all over the young girl in a heartbeat, practically salivating as he scored her number and mentally undressing her. It was something Sam usually found a bit naive. But now seeing as Dean didn't...no...couldn't...acknowledge their waitress' presence, it made him wish all the more that he had his annoying, vulgar brother back instead of the lifeless shell he was left with. His stomach was twisted in worrying knots.

"Hi!" the waitress greeted gleefully, her smile broadening as she looked from each occupant of the table to the other. Her eyes seemed to linger a bit on Dean before finally shifting to Sam and then back at John. Her nametag read Sasha. "What can I get you all? If you don't mind, I'd like to recommend our famous steak burger with homemade fries! They're to die for!"

John forced a kind smile on his face as he looked up at her. "That does sound good, sweetie. I'll take it."

"Ditto." Bobby agreed.

"Caesar salad with light dressing and croutons for me." Sam said.

"You got it, honey," Sasha turned her attention to Dean. "What about you cutie?"

But Dean remained silent, staring blankly through the pane of glass. Sasha frowned. "Is he okay?"

Sam felt unease settle in his stomach as he was forced to explain. "He...umm...he can't hear you. Or see you."

Sasha gasped, her eyes widening as she comprehended this information. "Omigosh...I'm so sorry, I didn't...how long?"

"That's none of your business," John suddenly snapped, making Sasha jump. "Just get him the same as me and don't ask anymore stupid questions. Understood?"

Sasha was speechless by the rough, militant tone John's voice had adopted. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but decided against it. Instead she turned on her heels and ran off to get their orders.

"Was that really necessary?" Bobby growled, giving John a sharp jab to the ribs.

"She was being nosy," John replied truthfully. Even Sam nodded in agreement.

"She kinda was. We don't need people looking at Dean like he's some kind of invalid. He needs to be treated like his normal self."

"So you're just gonna yell at anyone who gives him a curious eye?" Bobby asked incredulously.

Sam and John looked at each other then back at him, nodding and saying "Yeah" in unison. It was one of the few things they've agreed on.

Bobby sighed, placing a hand over his face. "Idjits."

Sam and John laughed. It felt good that they were all together and getting along well. It was a shame that it was only because of Dean's unfortunate predicament.

Suddenly, Dean jackknifed up in the booth beside Sam, making them all jump in surprise.

"Did our waitress come by yet?" he asked.

Sam couldn't help but burst out laughing. Some of the customers turned to glare at him, some even telling him to shut the hell up, but Sam just ignored them. John and Bobby were smiling.

Dean felt the booth vibrate and his heart hammered in his chest. Was there an earthquake or something? What was happening? He started to tremble nervously. Sam saw this and instantly ceased his laughing, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulder while the other grasped Dean's arm.

"It's okay, Dean," Sam said, hugging his brother close for reassurance. Dean felt the positive energy flow off his brother and soak through his own skin, absorbed by his shaking body, which slowly but surely began to relax. He then realized why the booth had been vibrating in the first place.

"Sorry," Dean muttered. "you scared me for a minute there. I thought your laughing was an earthquake."

Sam snorted, smiling fondly, and gave his big brother one more comforting squeeze. Dean then pushed him away.

"Okay, that's enough chick-flick moments for now," he grumbled. But Sam heard the smile in his voice.

A few minutes later, a still apprehensive and intimidated Sasha returned with their foods, quickly placing them down and hastily made her escape again.

"She forgot to ask what we wanted to drink," Bobby noticed suddenly.

"Should I go tell her?" John went to stand but was stopped when Bobby grabbed his elbow firmly.

"I don't think so. Last thing that poor girl needs is a heart attack. I'll do it." Bobby then got up and headed towards the counter.

Sam snorted as he helped Dean figure out where his food and utensils were. Once he made sure Dean was set, he dug into his own salad.

Twenty minutes later, they were all settled in the Impala once more and on the highway for another leg of their journey, unaware of the pair of vengeful, electric blue eyes watching them leave from the deep shadows of the diner.

"Finally found you after so long. The time for vengeance has come. Do not worry, dear sister. I will make him pay dearly for what he's done. His entire family shall suffer. Then you shall rest peacefully."

The eyes then melted into the darkness.