This is the penultimate chapter :/ Sorry it took so long (had a busy Christmas, and I hope you all had a great time too!)

Just a short one this time, but the final one I am quite pleased with…

Chapter 6

It was nine years later and Sam was slumped in the passenger's seat of the Impala, leafing through a map, half watching his older brother who was stingingly loudly to Led Zeppelin and half trying to work out where the nearest motel was.

"Where the hell are we at the moment?"

"How am I meant to know, you're the one with the map."

"You're driving."

"Yeah, your point is?"

"That you should know where you are driving!"

"Whatever, Bitch."

Unfortunately for the Winchesters Sam eventually worked out that they were still another three hours away from anywhere. Literally anywhere. There wasn't even a McDonalds in sight!

For Dean, this was a big problem considering the fact that he was already getting a bit panicky.

He had already spent five hours shut up in the car and although he had learnt to manage his claustrophobia over the past few years with breathing techniques and just plain stubbornness, he still found himself having panic attacks now and again. Most commonly in the car, which caused him an insane amount of distress considering how much he loved driving his baby. But hey, you win some, you loose some. Or at least that is what he tried to tell himself.

Dean managed to keep his cool for another half an hour before he felt the panic really setting in, and Sam hadn't failed to notice the way in which he clung to the Impala's steering wheel and put down the window in an attempt to let in some air.

"You ok, Dean?"

"Yep." Sam knew it was bad, as soon as Dean took on sharp, one word responses, it meant trouble. It was clear that Dean was verging on a panic attack and there was nothing much Sam could do about it. He was never able to persuade Dean to pull over.

Although Dean managed to cover up most of his attacks, half the time even Sam didn't notice, there were definite tells. Like the fact that he started to sweat, his hands still shook a little and he would start nervously tapping with his fingers, in this case Metallica on the Impala's dashboard.

"Dean, if you need to pull over I'm cool with it. We only have a couple more hours to go, we can take a break." It was worth a try. Well, it was a waste of breathe to be honest but Sam felt better having tried.

"M'fine." Dean Winchester does not admit weakness. Especially not in front of his kid brother.

"Fine. Suit yourself." Sam pretended to turn his attention back to his map, but he was really watching the colour drain from his brother's face out of the corner of his eye.

"Dean?"

"Shut up." Dean managed another fifteen minutes of driving before abruptly pulling over, throwing the door open without bothering to close it and then staggering to a tree, which he leant against and doubled over. God he felt so carsick, although he would have died before admitting it.

Sam gave a small sigh, why Dean hadn't just pulled over before his panic attack got this bad, he just couldn't comprehend. He knew Dean hated showing weakness, but really, now he was hunched up against a tree trying not to throw up.

Sam sighed a little before clambering out of his own car door, stretching out his overly long legs for a moment before making his way over to his brother.

"Dean?"

"M'fine." Sure you are.

"You sure man?" Dean jerked his head in a sharp nod, staring down at the ground and waiting for the spinning sensation to pack it in.

Sam wanted nothing more than to go over and support his shaking brother, but he knew that would only make things worse. When Dean was like this, he would freak out at any touch.

If Sam put his hand on Dean's shoulder, Dean would feel as if he was being held down and couldn't move.

If Sam put his hand on Dean's back, the pressure made Dean feel as if he was trapped and confined.

An arm around the waist would make him feel as if his lungs were being pressed down upon.

Therefore, Sam merely hovered a few feet away from his older brother feeling utterly useless. But at least Dean knew that his younger brother was close by and there for him.

Eventually, when Dean finally managed to pull himself together, he straightened himself out and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a sleeve, grimacing a little.

"Sorry bout that."

"Don't be silly Dean, it's fine." Dean nodded again curtly and made his way back to the impala and pausing before getting in.

"I don't suppose you uh, want to drive?"

"Sure." Sam smiled at him with a false, overly cheerful smile, knowing that this was Dean's way of saying he still didn't feel great.

"Thanks Sammy."

"Anytime." Sam entered the driver's seat and began to fiddle with the radio, turning it onto a folk station.

"What the hell Sammy?!"

"Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole." Sam grinned from ear to ear, finally glad to use Dean's line against him. God it felt good!

Dean just humphed and rolled down his window, this was torture!

If there is a god, someone would hand me a gun right now!

And the next chapter will feature a guest appearance from the one and only Castiel…just for the finale ;) *Gets writing…