Sam glances again at Dean, debating whether or not to ask for help. No, he decides, Dean thinks he's crazy- he probably would stop Sam from going altogether. Sam quietly grabs the keys and sneaks out of the room towards the parking lot. The small pellets of rain soak him, until he is shielded by the interior of the Impala. Sam looks down at the mud that he imprinted on the floor of Dean's beloved car. Dean is not going to be happy about that, he thought, and powered the engine.
The rain pounds heavily on the hood of the car. Sam drives aimlessly around the city, trying to remember where his vision took place. He was running out of time. Sam's head was still swimming with pain, and it was getting worse. He could feel himself getting weaker, and was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. Why was he driving again? Where was he going? It was like his mind was floating in space. Soon his vision tunnels and his head thumps against the steering wheel.
The tires squeal as the car swerves right, with no one to control it. It speeds up until a tree collides with the vehicle, causing it to flip so many times across the road, that someone watching would have lost count.
Sam's body slams forward with every jerk of the car. His head bashes into the window. If he were awake, the pain would have been beyond excruciating.
The hood crumbles against the road, and shards of glass sprinkle across Sam's unconscious face. The car had no airbags to cushion the crash, and the inside of it would now be stained with Sam's blood.
Then the silence was back. Rain still fell against the broken car and man, that laid in a puddle of blood and water. They stood there, unmoving for hours, until another car drove down the road and reported the crash.
When the paramedics got there, they didn't think that the injured man could possibly be saved.
...
Dean woke up in the middle of the night and had to do a double take when he noticed Sam was not in his bed. He checked the bathroom, closets, everywhere in his tiny motel room- Sam was not there. He hadn't even left a note on the door.
Was he kidnapped? Did a monster get to him?
Dean was going to have to find out soon, so he could save his idiot brother. He went to grab his keys so he can head toward the car, only when he reached for his keys, his hand was met with nothing but air and dust from the counter. Shoot. He looked out the window- the Impala was not in the parking spot he had left it in earlier. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
Who knows where that moron could have gone.
It was hard for Dean to think with the feeling of uneasiness dominating all his other emotions. What possible reason would Sam have for leaving randomly at this hour. A part of him felt betrayed. Dean was an excellent hunter, he could have helped with whatever Sam was dealing with, and he hadn't ever given Sam a reason not to trust him. Now all he could do was wait for Sam to get back, and give him one hell of a yelling for his stupid, stupid choices. For someone that got into Stanford, That kid did not use his head sometimes.