As soon as the heavy tires met the freshly plowed and gritted road of the interstate, Sam relaxed his grip on the leather-wrapped steering wheel and leaned back a little more into the plush driver's seat. Unable to relax completely, his thoughts remaining a few miles back and on his brother and Bobby's well-being, his jaw was tight and his shoulders tense.

"I'm sure they'll be okay."

Sam gave a small nod and glanced in the rear-view mirror. "You telepathic now?"

Lena smiled thinly and shook her head. "It's kinda obvious." She leaned forward into her belt and reached out to place her hand on his arm. "No news and all that, huh?"

Letting his shoulders sink a little and releasing a weary sigh, Sam peered back at her and matched her smile. "I guess." He cleared his throat and turned his focus back to the wide black road stretching out before them. "You two warm enough, back there?"

"Fine."

Nodding, Sam glanced at the digital displays on the console centered in walnut the dash. "Jerry's car is something else …" He nestled back against the soft, contoured heat of the seat and his smile grew as he looked over the controls. "I don't know what half of this stuff is for. And I'm kinda too scared to find out."

Lena laughed gently. "His dad bought this for him. He's one of the biggest auto dealers in the state." She laughed again and sat back. "Not that I condone theft but … he can just as soon get another one. If he's okay, that is."

Sam glanced quickly back at her. "We've already changed things." He offered, "We don't even know if the demons have arrived."

Lena nodded thoughtfully. "Demons." She scoffed in a whisper, "I still can't believe it."

"I know how that feels."

Lena watched him concentrating on the road but could sense something more in what she could see of his face, lit up by the soft glow of the dash. "How old were you when you found out?"

Sam gave an involuntary shudder, quickly adapting it into a shrug. "A little older than Morgan, I guess." He forced a smile and nodded towards her. "How's she doing?"

Looking down, Lena continued to gently stroke her daughter's soft hair and then noticed the heat radiating from the side of Morgan's face. Gasping, she leaned closer and could see the faint sheen of sweat over her skin.

"What?" Sam urged, hearing her panic rising. "What's wrong?"

"Oh god! She's burning up, Sam!"

"Hey?" The car swerved slightly as Sam leaned round to try and check on Morgan. His heart pounding, he corrected the steering and flicked on the interior light.

"Oh no!" Lena sobbed in fright.

"What?" Sam slowed the car and began to pull in to the side of the road.

"No! Keep going!" Lena cried, sensing the reduction in speed. "We've got to get her to Em."

Nodding in agreement, Sam moved back to the centre of the cleared interstate and peered out into the bright spread of light amid the darkness.

"Oh, baby …" Lena gingerly traced a finger around the small ring of sores that had broken the skin at the back of Morgan's neck. "Hold on …"

The red spray was bright and starkly contrasted against the grey-white of his shadow over the snow. Bobby could not steal his eyes from the sight and stared in disbelief. Dean's tight groan then pulled him roughly into the present and he scrambled closer.

Glancing back at the unmoving form laying before the quiet reception, Bobby sensed there was no more time to lose. Moving up to Dean's head, he slid his hands under Dean's shoulders and dragged him back to the relative safety of the Impala's shadow. He heard Dean's grunt of pain and it sent a shiver through him but he managed to slide him quickly across the snow. Laying him down as gently as he could, he looked up through the car's windows and could see no further movement.

"Shit - !" Dean hissed, "Sonofa - "

Bobby looked back down and saw Dean arch his neck against the pain. "Where?" He demanded, kneeling closer to Dean and quickly scanning his crumpled form. "Dean, where you hit?"

"I - " Dean gave a strangled groan and bit back another.

"Dean?" Bobby urged, his panic growing. He then saw Dean reaching down towards his legs and moved down to look closer. The dark denim was wet with melted snow and in the poor light behind the car, it took him a moment to find the small hole.

"Don't - !" Dean curled his shoulders from the snow and grabbed fistfuls of Bobby's jacket to try and pull him back.

Bobby turned back and gently eased Dean away from him. "Easy. It's not so bad."

"Yeah?" Dean scoffed, frowning and holding his breath for a second. "Hurts like a son-of-a-bitch."

Nodding, Bobby looked back at the damaged material above Dean's left knee. "Smaller wounds always do."

"Small?" Dean demanded incredulously. He then caught the smile Bobby was trying to hide and groaned in dismay. "Laugh it up, old man." Dean grated, slowly sitting up and grunting with the movement. "Your bedside manner stinks."

"Yeah, yeah. Keep milking it, ya big baby." Bobby chuckled, moving past Dean and opening the driver's door of the Impala a little wider. "Now, you gonna get in here so we can get the hell out of this place?"

Dean leaned up against the rear door and peered down at his thigh, grimacing as his leg moved and pain shot up into his hip.

"Well?"

Turning to Bobby, Dean gave a small smile. "You're as harsh as the old man was, Bob." He complained, shuffling sideways and sucking in a sudden expletive as he moved.

Bobby shrugged and nodded inside the car. "Move your ass before more goons come out shooting." He reached out and grabbed Dean's arm, helping him pull himself up into the driver's seat.

Perched on the edge of the leather and glancing worriedly across at the reception doors, Dean took a moment to catch his breath. He then turned his focus back to lifting his injured leg up into the car and closed his eyes as he gave it a try.

"Here." Bobby took hold of Dean's ankle and lifted his foot up into the car, flinching as Dean doubled over and whined in protest. "I'm sorry." He offered softly, "But we gotta go."

Dean slumped against the steering wheel, panting hard. He managed a nod and moved across the seat a little more to allow Bobby to close the door. Just as Bobby moved back from the car, Dean suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm. "Bobby, be - "

"Yeah, yeah." Bobby agreed quickly, glancing at the motel reception. "Just keep your head down. And be ready."

"Right." Dean agreed, trying to relax a little against the bench seat and avoiding looking down at his injured thigh.

The Impala door clicked shut and Bobby's form moved away from the window. Dean followed the older guy's retreat across the parking lot and watched him disappear through the outer hedge. He then turned his attention back to the motel reception and watched the seemingly empty office.

A few minutes later a gentle tug on the tow cable shuddered through the Chevy and Dean gently gripped the steering wheel. The tires crunched on the icy snow as the car was pulled back away from the motel and Dean's heart was racing. As he was slowly tugged across the parking lot, he peered inside the lobby and saw the slumped form lying almost out of view near the desk. Sighing in dismay, he then turned his attention to the large windows of the bar and tried to look within. Beyond the dazzling neon signs, the lights still shone inside the small building but there was no movement that he could see. Frowning in concern, he turned his focus back to ensuring a smooth path across the snowy ground.

The entrance into the complex from the main road was sloped and Dean adjusted the approach as best he could but the heavy car slid from the parking lot and skated across the icy snow. Swinging wildly down onto the road, the Impala broke into a wide spin and a creaking strain on the tow bar made Dean hold his breath.

Bobby watched the slow slide gather speed and cursed under his breath. Unable to assist in correcting the angle, he held the winch controls in tight, trembling hands and hardly dared watch. The Impala swung out in a wide arc on the end of the tow cable, bucking like a fish on a line. Then the far-side tires clipped the snow bank at the side of the road and the car pivoted up onto two wheels. The soft snow allowed the wheels to sink and slide and it was enough to prevent the car tipping over. Bobby looked on in concern as the near-side wheels slammed back down onto the road and the car shuddered to a stop.

Dragging the heavy car up behind the tow-truck, Bobby glanced back towards the motel and saw the complex was still and quiet. It was disconcerting, to say the least and he began to make preparations to lift the Impala up onto the tow cradle as the car was winched closer.

The rear wheels safely guided onto the cradle and the Impala secure, Bobby hurried to the driver's door. Dean was huddled protectively over his injured leg and seemed oblivious to the door creaking open quickly.

"Come on. Into the truck with me." Bobby urged gruffly.

Dean sat up slowly and managed a small nod.

"Dean?"

"Yeah." Pushing himself up straight with the steering wheel, Dean began to turn and paused as pain filled his face.

"Okay." Bobby moved in closer and placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Let me help you."

Pausing for a moment, Dean then managed a small smile and held out his arm. Once Bobby had a good grip under his shoulder, he gritted his teeth and slid from the car in as quick and smooth a movement as he could manage.

Bobby half pulled, half supported his injured friend and somehow between the two of them, Dean got to his feet. He grabbed handfuls of Dean's thick coat and only just prevented Dean from slumping weakly to the floor. Grunting with the effort and cringing as Dean whimpered in pain, Bobby balanced them against the Impala's side and slid Dean's arm around his neck.

Hopping across slushed snow at the side of the road was hard, each step making Dean groan louder. His grip of Bobby's shoulder tightened and the older man was weary as they finally reached the tow truck's cab. Shoving Dean up into the seat, he then hurried to the driver's side and fired up the truck. Moving them away from the motel complex and into the shadow protection of the forest, Bobby then pulled over at the side of the road.

"What?" Dean frowned, his face pale in the interior glow of the cab and his slumped shoulders heaving with each breath.

Bobby leaned across and opened the glove compartment. "We need to take a look at your leg." He explained, pulling out a battered metal box.

"It's fine." Dean sighed, "Let's just get the hell out of here."

Bobby opened the small box and pulled out some packets of gauze. "I need to be sure."

"But - "

"But nothing." Bobby ordered sternly, pulling a small flick-knife from his pocket. "Quit your whining."

Dean was startled into silence and smiled nervously. "Yes, sir."

Glancing up at Dean, Bobby gave a small shrug and moved closer. He pinched the loose denim above Dean's knee and carefully slid the blade into the small hole. Cutting and tearing a small flap of material, he could see the small bullet wound beneath. He then noticed the dark stain over the inside of Dean's thigh. Gently pressing his hand against Dean's leg and rolling his thigh back from the seat, Bobby saw the second hole.

"Easy!" Dean hissed, arching away from Bobby and gripping the edge of the seat tightly.

Bobby grumbled an apology and sliced his knife along to the second bullet wound. Larger and more irregular, this wound was oozing dark blood and Bobby groaned in sympathy. Parting the torn jeans, he saw the faint pink tunneling on the skin between the two holes and could clearly see the shallow path of the bullet.

"Ow!" Dean swiped Bobby's hands away and shook his head urgently. "Stop!"

"Sorry." Bobby flinched back and watched Dean in concern.

Trying to catch his breath and sagging back against the seat, Dean closed his eyes tightly. "Damn, that hurts like a son-of-a-bitch!"

"Mmm." Bobby nodded slightly, "It looks like it."

Groaning quietly and peering at Bobby, Dean's frown grew. "Bad?"

"No. But that's why it hurts."

"Some comfort." Dean scoffed in a whisper, sitting back up straight and chancing a quick look at his torn jeans. "Aw, man … these are my favorite pair."

Rolling his eyes, Bobby smiled and let out a sigh of relief, glad for the light relief Dean was attempting. "What were you thinking, anyhow?" He asked softly, giving Dean's arm a gentle punch. "Don't be shortening your term by taking stupid chances like that."

Dean regarded Bobby in concern and cleared his throat. "Like what?"

"Like stepping between a dumb old fool and an armed demon." Bobby explained, chuckling softly in what he hoped was affection but coming out more like terror.

Moaning slightly, Dean leaned a little closer to Bobby and placed his hand on his shoulder. "Dude, you're family." He offered easily.

Bobby made no reply. He gave a small nod and returned his attention to dressing the bullet wounds with gauze. He then reached under his seat and pulled out a roll of duct tape.

"I don't think I wanna know why you keep that under there." Dean laughed.

Bobby glanced up at him in uncertainty. "I'm a mechanic."

"Yeah, right."

Sighing, Bobby peeled back a strip and began to wrap Dean's thigh. "Smart ass."

"Hey!" Dean protested merrily, "This smart ass saved your ass, old timer!"

Tearing off the tape and pleased with his ingenuity, Bobby pushed the box and tape aside. He sighed and started up the truck once again. "And to think I was starting to give you sympathy."

Reaching down to massage his throbbing leg, Dean laughed gently. "That was sympathy?"

"Oh, can it." Bobby huffed, guiding the truck back out onto the road. He glanced at Dean, a small smile nestled under his scruffy beard. "And … well … thanks."

"Any time."

- tbc -