Chapter 2

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Dean looked at his watch for the fifteenth time in ten minutes. Sam had been gone for almost half an hour, and as much as he was still angry with his little brother, he began to grow worried. He was developing a gut feeling that something bad was going to happen. Where the hell is that kid? It usually doesn't take him this long to cool off. He, himself, began to lose his adrenaline and his brotherly instinct began to kick in. He glanced at his watch once more before standing up in frustration and digging out his phone from his back pocket. Dialing Sam's number, he waited for a ring, but instead it went straight to voicemail.

"Dammit, Sammy, answer the phone!" Dean growled as he tried again, but still he got voicemail. "Where the hell are you?"

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The Impala drew closer and closer to truck, and Sam showed no signs of waking up. The truck's deafening horn kept beeping in hopes to get the driver's attention, but it wasn't working. The driver of the semi had no choice but to try and stop the truck before it hit the car. He slammed on the breaks the wheels locking and the tires screeching on the road, but the truck was still driving at a immense speed. In seconds, the truck collided with the front of the Impala and twisted it around, the impact going more towards the driver's side. Both cars screeched down the road as the truck was still forcing it back. Metal was crunching, glass was shattering and during the whole thing, Sam was unaware of what was going on; not because he was sleeping, but because he was currently unconscious. The blow of the collision connected dangerously with his head and many other places that could be fatal for a human. Finally, after what seemed like twenty minutes, the skidding stopped and both vehicles were immobile; the air was cold and silent besides the sound of the drizzle that just started up.

Immediately, the truck driver, known as Larry Franks, jumped out of the automobile and ran towards the, now, destroyed car.

"Oh god! Oh my god what have I done? Sir, are you- oh no." The truck driver stopped in his tracks when he came across the demolished vehicle. The person inside was just a kid. Well he looked like one, but he probably was in his early twenties. The kid's face was all bloodied, scratched and battered. Bruises were already starting to form across his jaw and his left eye was swollen shut. Worst of all, a piece of glass was stick out of the kid's side, right under his ribs, and blood was flowing out of the wound. Dammit. "Hey, kid can you hear me?" All of sudden, he noticed that the kid's chest was immobile and that not one sound was coming out of this kid's slack mouth or bleeding nose.

"Oh no, I'm gonna lose my job for this! I fucking killed someone!" Larry cried as he straightened up and ran a hand through his damp black hair.

"Damn, Damn, Dammit!" Larry looked nervously up and down the street. It was clear of any cars or pedestrians, so no one had witnesses anything; he could get away before anyone noticed. Breathing heavily, Larry ran back to his truck, put it in drive and went around the accident, speeding off and pretending that nothing had happened. The kid was already dead, so it wasn't like he was leaving him to die, right? If he had been hanging onto life, he would have called an ambulance and maybe he would have stayed. If he was caught, though, his life would be over. Looking back in the rearview mirror, he saw the smoldering car once more before turning a corner and disappearing.

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Dean paced back and forth in front of the bench, the rain coming down harder and drenching his clothes. Now he was really scared; something was nagging him and he couldn't help feel that something had really happened to his brother. Scenes ran though his head making him feel even worse. Demons, angry spirits, even vampires could have done something to his baby brother. Dean was just about to call Sam again when he heard a huge explosion about half a mile down the road. Dean looked up and frowned as his heart panged in his chest; his subconscious was telling him to go check it out, because…well it didn't tell him why, but just that he needed to hurry. Pocketing his cell, Dean began running toward the blast, hoping that it wasn't as bad as he imagined it.

As he got closer, he could, both, see and smell smoke billowing into the air. His heart raced faster and harder, and it wasn't just from running. Finally, Dean turned the corner and his blood stopped cold. No, it couldn't be. This couldn't be happening. There was a lone car in the middle of the road that was erupting in flames. Smoke was filling the air and the smell of burnt tires and metal wafted into Dean's nose. He moved closer to the wreck, praying and praying that this wasn't the Impala; not just because it was his car, but because Sam was driving it and Sam was nowhere to be seen. Running up to the burning and crackling car, he breathed heavily in fear and realization; it was the Impala. Shit!

"Sam!" Dean hollered out desperately into the car, his voice echoing into the rainy night. "Sammy answer me!" Dean sniffed as he covered his mouth with his sleeve as he tried to move closer to the car. "Sam!" Still no response. The flames snapped loudly, causing Dean to step back; he couldn't find his brother. He actually hoped that Sam had torched the car in anger and then walked back to the motel. Sure he would be angry as hell, but at least his brother would be alive. It was either that or his brother was in the car, burning alive and he really hoped that wasn't the case.

"Sammy!"

Sorry for the cliffhanger :) I promise I'll get the next chapter up soon!