I have finally been able to work on this next part of this story, I'm sorry that it has taken me so long. I tried to upload it on Sunday but "my stories" page has been dosn.

I hope that you enjoy it. I apprepriate all the feedback that I receive.

Thanks for reading!

It had only taken Samantha 2 minutes to decide that they had gotten back on the road too quickly. The impala was practically screaming in protest as her dad swerved and sped down the highway as if he had a destination in mind. Samantha was quick to realize that though her father had said he was fine after he had been able to tear his gaze from the picture of his not so dead brother, he was probably lying.

Not loosening her iron grip on the door, her pathetic attempt to calm the roller coaster ride she was experiencing, Samantha tried to form a plan.

Step 1: get Dad off the road before he kills someone, hopefully not either of them.

Step 2: get Dad to say something before his head explodes.

He had not uttered a sound since he had spoken her uncle's name. All he had done was pass the phone back to his daughter then pulled the impala onto the road like he was driving NASCAR.

Samantha was quite familiar with her father's usual method of dealing with emotion, shut up about it and maybe it will go away. She had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't going to fly this time.

Step 3: ...Damned if I had any idea.

Samantha sighed, in one moment everything that she had known all her life had been altered. Her absent hero, who she had always used as a way to measure herself, was actually alive. How do you really process something like that?

Well in Dad's case, you ripped down the highway as if you were going to rescue him, even though neither had any idea where he was. Samantha glanced at her father's stony face, this was even worse for him. It had always been clear to Samantha that out of everything Dean had lost in his hard life; the loss of Sam had been the hardest to bear. Samantha would search for some way to help him, but first she had to get them off the road.

It wasn't as if she could just ask her dad to slow down a little, he was in a place far away from rationale thoughts. No Samantha would have to be sneakier about this.

Shooting another glance at her father, Samantha let out a quiet groan. She caught a brief movement from her father. You are so predictable sometimes dad Samantha thought fighting back a smile. She wrapped her arms around her middle hunching forward into herself.

Peering through her hair that was hiding her face from her father's scrutiny, she caught Dean send her a look his brow furrowed in worry.

Knowing that it was time to reel him in Samantha hunched forward farther groaning as if she was in pain.

"Sammy? Are you okay?" Dean said his eyes darting from the road to the hunched form of his daughter. When he received no reaction other then another moan of pain, Dean practically yelled, "tell me what's wrong!"

"Dad, pull over." Samantha spoke in a raspy voice just above a whisper.

Dean couldn't get the impala over to the side fast enough. Samantha was sure that in hindsight he would say that he didn't want her wrecking the leather, but Samantha had seen the worry etched into his expression.

The moment the car had come to a complete stop, Samantha was diving out of the door, loose gravel digging into her hands and knees.

It took only moments for her father to appear at her side, rubbing circles on her back, asking in a soft voice what hurt. The keys to the impala lay forgotten by his scuffed boot. Samantha grinned triumphantly, so predictable.

Shooting her hand out, she clasped the familiar piece of metal for a moment before throwing them into the bushes beside the road.

Samantha leaned back against the car, it was only then that she hazarded a glance at her father.

Dean's face had taken on a stony look to it all the comfort and worry from before had evaporated. This new look was one that in the past had always made Samantha stop short. It did this time as Samantha involuntarily leaned away from her father, pulling into herself slightly. He was certainly her father, as a single look made the confident young women feel all of eight years old.

"What the hell was that for Samantha?" Dean said, his deep voice as hard as his expression.

Samantha forced herself not to retreat any farther at his tone, instead she raised her green eyes to his. "Dad, we need to stop and think this through. We have to come up with a plan to find and help Sam but this isn't helping anyone. You need to stop, you were going to get us killed if I didn't do something." Samantha said pleadingly, hoping to reach the father that she knew under this new granite shell.

Neither moved and for an instant Samantha believed that she would never be able to get through to her father. Then his face softened and his stance all but sagged. Dean moved to lean against the familiar coolness of the impala, rubbing his hands over his face, as if to brush away the pain that had sprung forth at the sight of his brother.

"I don't know what to do Samantha." he said in a quiet despairing way. "I'm the father, the older brother, I should have the answers. It's Sam, I can't just sit here, but I don't know what to do."

Samantha moved to stand beside her father, so that their shoulders brushed lightly. Her father was feeling pain that should have been laid to rest 26 years ago. He had never given up on Sam and the burden of loss he had been balancing for years was falling around him.

Samantha felt very young. She wanted nothing but to let her father take the lead and to make everything better. Still she knew that she could not add to his pain, Samantha needed to be strong for them both right now.

"I don't have any answers right now either Dad." Samantha answered with equal softness, afraid to push her father too far. "What we can do is go through the past emails from Broderick to see if he has always been Sam, and if there are any clues. Right now though, you need to go find your keys, get us a motel room and some food because I'm starving." She finish with a light hearted tone that neither really felt.

Dean glanced sideways at his daughter, she was studying him with eyes that were so like his own. He gave a small smile at her strength, something that he believed she must have gotten for Sam or her mother. Samantha was so willing to take the control in order to help her father, but as a parent he could never let her do that.

Smirking Dean straightened up. "I'm sure it was a slip of the tongue when you said that I was going to look for the keys that you threw in the brush, right?"

Samantha's jaw dropped for an instant, then she quickly regained her composure and pushed away from the car. She grumbled as she moved towards the direction that she had thrown the keys but she did not seem angry by her father's instruction more relieved.

Dean watched her for a couple of moments. He had no idea how they were going to find Sam, he could be anywhere. Still there was that photo and if someone had sent it to them, then they wanted Dean to know that Sam was alive.

Sooner or later the person who had Sam was going to send more information and hopefully it would lead Dean back to his little brother. He closed his eyes briefly the thought of seeing Sam again spreading a long lost but familiar warmth through his heart, he wondered what Sam would think of his head strong daughter.

Heaving a sigh at the thought this reunion being ripped away now that it seemed so possible, Dean lifted his head back and spoke barely above whisper.

"I'll find you Sammy. You wait, I'll find you."