The Impala was cruising along route 70. John was behind the wheel guiding it with his capable skill while Dean was shotgun, facing inward with his arm stretched out across the seat back and left leg up, bent at the knee.

Sam scrutinized them from a sideways glance.'They don't fool me for a second...I know they're still fuckin' pissed.' Despite being one of the few people on earth who could handle his father's and brother's tempers, he was thankful their anger wasn't entirely directed toward him.

Sam sat once again in the back and for the first time since he began complaining about it at the age of ten he now felt strangely comforted by it; he felt safe, partly aware that there was no other place he'd rather be at the present and was moved by how his Dad and brother on occasion covertly checked on him. Not wanting to be the one to break the spell, wanting this feeling to last as long as possible, he thought, 'I'll wait for them to speak first.'

Sam sighed sadly when he caught John looking at him a new way in the rearview mirror; he was right to think the moment would soon be over.

"So, Sam...you really took this asshole out with one hit?" John asked.

"Yes, sir."

Dean shifted to face his little brother in the back. "Yeah, about that...there's one thing I don't get...this was far from your first fight and you're still undefeated so what's with the, 'now you see I can take care of myself?'"

Sam's eyes widened, jaw dropped slightly. "Really, Dean?"

Dean raised his shoulders to convey 'what?'

"Come on...you practically broke down the bathroom door!"

Dean started to laugh it off but in noticing Sam's earnest expression, his eyes shifted downward and eyelids fluttered as he refreshed his memory.

"But it's more than that. I think I also said it...uh maybe...because, when I think about it, all those times before were kids my own age. Plus they were bothering other people." Sam then looked out the right window for he was in the habit of being unable to show his face when he lied. "Before this, I never actually confronted an adult, after me and..." Sam sensed his brother was studying him, so he forced himself to look at Dean directly. When he saw his eyes expressing unconcealed concern Sam truthfully added "...he did kinda take me by surprise. I still can't believe I didn't freeze."

'Why would you freeze?' Dean wondered. "I did tell you he was around."

"Yeah, but I was almost done in the bathroom, and he hadn't shown up, so I didn't think he would. Plus he pulled a knife which was unexpected."

John had been trembling with rage throughout Sam's voiced recollections and his hands tightened their grip around the steering wheel. "He had a knife?" he ground out.

"Yeah Dad. It didn't touch me...can we talk about something else?"

"Wait a minute...Dean warned you about him and you went anyway?" At that, John instantly detected his oldest son's posture tense up and recalled their discussion about Dean's fear of pushing Sam away. He nodded to signal, 'okay, I'll stop now.'

Dean got the message and exhaled in relief. "So, Dad, did you get through to Caleb?"

"Yeah, I told him where we were and when we expect to get there...he'll make sure he's home."

"That's it?" Sam spat.

"Look, nobody has any answers. Apparently the men had been autopsied...the blood tests and the exam were all negative...toxicology reports are pending."

"Since the cause is still unknown, and two people died the same, it's looking more likely something supernatural is behind this," Dean said.

"There's nothing to check into on the medical end, since the evidence had been collected...one of the vics has since been buried yesterday and the second is awaiting his funeral," John replied.

"So we're gonna be reporters?" Sam asked.

Dean smirked at Sam. "Right...relatives will have no problem believing a high school kid is in the investagative reporting business."

"I'd tell them I'm a college intern."

"That's enough," John cut in. "There's gonna be much for all of us to do."

"Yeah, like breaking in to wherever the vics worked," Dean said, brightening.

"I want to do that, too. I want to know what Caleb knows," Sam said.

"We'll see," John declared.

'So, Sam...you really knocked him out in one hit?' John couldn't help but be amazed and glanced into the rearview mirror. His fifteen year old son was just looking out his own window with eyes squinted against the wind rushing in from the outside and hair flying in a hundred different directions. 'I'm proud of you, son.'

The Winchesters were silent for the remainder of the forty-five minutes drive into Kansas before exiting off the highway.

The Impala turned a few heads which John ignored as he navigated their car through the streets of Topeka and stopped outside a Denny's restaurant.

In the parking lot, John remained still for a moment, studying the area, oblivious to the occasional stare of some people moving about the immediate vicinity. The car door creaked when opened and closed around his departure. He then walked to the trunk, opened it, pulled out his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. John looked right and left once again before closing the trunk then appeared at Dean's window. He leaned forward and stated, "you boys just sit tight, I'll be back shortly."

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Once John disappeared inside, Sam reached over to roll down the other backseat window. When he straightened back up, he saw Dean was staring at him.

"Hey, Sam, would you ever want to go back to our old house?"

"I knew you'd ask that and no, I wouldn't...what about you?"

"Nope."

"I can't think of there ever being a reason to go back after all this time."

"Yeah, Dad doesn't want to run into anyone he knows from before. He told me he did everything he could to figure out what killed Mom and came up empty."

"Dean, do you really think we'll ever find out what did it?"

"Of course."

"You sound amazingly sure."

"I have to be, it's what helps me focus."

"Huh." Suddenly Sam's face wrinkled in distaste. He picked up his shirt to mop his face. "Ugh! It's too hot in here!" He scanned around for a map, picked one up and started fanning himself with it. "Hope Dad doesn't take too long."

"He won't. You know he didn't want to stop in Kansas at all."

Sam stopped fanning himself and glared out the window. "Something else to blame me for."

Dean fixed a piercing scowl at his brother. "Shut up, Sam. He doesn't blame you! Stop looking for a fucking fight."

Sam didn't respond. He knew Dean was right.

Sam seemed a little pale and Dean's expression softened. "Long day, huh?"

Sam looked at Dean with trepidation, having an idea where this conversation was going. "No shit."

"How much sleep do you figure you've gotten?"

Sam was surprised at the unexpected question. "Since we left Amherst?"

Dean nodded.

"Well, I got maybe 5-6 hours but that's been broken up."

"I think dad got about the same, consecutive and I have about 9 hours all together but also broken up."

"Come on, Dean...you're starting to scare me. Just say what's really on your mind."

Dean heaved a sigh. "Okay...well, it's like this...I know you asked me not to tell Dad about what happened to you but..."

"...you can't keep it a secret. Why not? 'Cause you're incapable? That's bullshit."

"Cut me some slack, Sam. I just can't keep this from Dad."

"There is so much that happens to you that you don't talk about."

"I know, I..." Dean shook his head. "Sam, don't change the subject. It's not like I want to tell him, it's like I have to tell him."

"Why?"

"Because this has to do with you, Sammy. Look, I get it...I understand when you said why you didn't tell me...and it sucks that we have to keep all problems off the radar..." Somehow his anger at all the pedophiles in the worlds was gone but it was impossible for him to blame his dad or the life they led. What remained was the realization that Sam didn't seem to need his big brother now or, even worse - then; it stung more than anything else. 'I thought he always came to me about everything...Dammit, I feel like I let him down.'

"It's okay Dean," Sam said after a minute of silence.

"I just feel like I let you down."

Sam hated to see his brother so despondent. It was rare but it did happen. "Dean, I also didn't say anything then because I just didn't want to talk about it...I wanted to just forget about it." He saw his brother's worried look shift to horror-stricken.

Dean swallowed and could only whisper, "is that why you said 'I can't believe I didn't freeze'? Because you froze when you were nine?"

Sam leaned back on the seat and crossed his arms with a huff of anger. 'Yeah, that and the run-in I had with mother Kitsune,' Sam thought.

"Sam?"

"Dean, it was your voice in my head that pushed me to act just now."

"What?"

"Just now...in the restroom. When that asshole pulled the knife, I heard you say, 'enough of this' or something and that's when I hit him. So you see, even though you weren't there, you were there. You did help me."

"My voice? Cool," Dean smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

Dean still wasn't appeased, so he was out of options. Sam sighed and said, "fine, whatever...tell Dad. Just please don't say anything until I am somewhere else..." Sam's eyes sparkled with mischief "...and you have to promise to stop talking incessently about your sex life."

"I don't talk incessently about sex!"

Dean was in better spirits for being given permission to tell their father about Sam's encounter with the pedophile coach; consequently Sam felt better as well and laughed. "You don't talk about anything bad that happens to you, but the one thing you should keep to yourself you share with the world! At least promise you'll try."

"Fine, bitch."

"Jerk."

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Due to the time of day, the restaurant was empty. Once inside, John hurried to the restroom at the rear of the building and five minutes later, teeth brushed, face washed, among other things one normally does in the bathroom, he emerged.

A quick scan of the place, showed a female employee sitting at the reception counter. Their eyes met and he saw her surreptitiously reach up to smooth her hair. 'Good,' he thought and headed straight to her.

"Hello," he said with his most charming smile.

"Hi," she squeaked then cleared her throat. "How can I help you?"

"I want to place an order to go."

She picked up her pad, returned his smile and waited for him to start.

"I'll take four cheeseburgers with everything, one chicken caeser salad with greek dressing, three large orders of fries and three cokes."

The waitress nodded when she finished writing then placed the order sheet on the ledge leading into the kitchen. "Okay, it should be ready in ten minutes," she said as she returned to him.

John opened his mouth to speak but the waitress was faster. "I saw you get out of that black car...it's so cool. What kind is it?"

"A Chevy Impala."

"Have you had it long?"

"Over twenty-years now...she's my one and only."

She glanced down to his left hand. "Does your wife love it too?"

John furrowed his eyebrows. "My..."

She jutted her chin downward. "I noticed you're wearing a ring."

He raised his left hand up and looked at it. "Oh, yeah...ah, she passed away."

"Oh...I am so sorry. So...you from around here?" she asked hopefully.

"No, I'm just visiting some friends. Actually, one of them is a reporter who I was supposed to meet here but he just left me a message..he couldn't make it."

"Oh. TV or newspaper?"

"Newspaper...actually, I'm not sure I'm supposed to be talking about it but apparently he has a sudden assignment in Kansas City...there was some incident where a guy attacked someone at a rest stop."

"Well, I just heard something about it a little while ago...I heard someone was found murdered in a men's bathroom."

"Murdered? Did you hear anything else?"

"Yeah, they got a suspect already. I just know people are saying someone found two men lying in the rest room, one was found dead. I guess they're gonna check the security footage."

"Hmm. Thanks..."

"My name is Patty." She reached out her right hand and he shook it.

"Hi, I'm Steve. Hey, I just need to make a quick phone call."

"Maybe we can get together sometime while you're here. I'll give you my number with your receipt...in case you want to."

"Sounds great."

"Okay! Well, I should get back to work. I'll let you know when your order is ready."

John nodded then made his way to a far table, pulled out his phone and journal. He opened it, found the number he wanted and started dialing.

'Things can never stay simple, can they?' he thought to himself while waiting for someone to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Deacon?"

"Winchester, you son of a bitch! How the hell are you?"

"I'm still alive. What's new with you?"

"Nothing. Enough bullshit small talk...what did you call for?"

John opened his mouth to answer when he noticed Patty quietly approaching. Unwilling to interrupt him, she placed John's order on the table and noticed she had his attention for a spit second. With a smile, she quickly brought one of her hands up to her ear, thumb and pinky extended and mouthed the words, "call me." He returned the smile and nodded just before she turned and walked away. John tore off the receipt and crumpled it up.

"You still there?"

John looked back down. "Yeah, sorry. Just had to wait for someone to pass by. So there was this incident in St. Louis...at a highway rest stop...where I hear there's been a murder. I just am interested to know what the authorities find on the security tape. So..."

"...say no more. I'll look in to it for you."

"Thanks, Deacon. I owe you one."

"Just visit me next time you're around and I'll forget the whole thing."

"You got it."

"Call ya later."

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Dean was sitting behind the wheel when John return, he settled in the passenger seat, John handed each son a bag containing a styrofoam box and a drink.

"A waitress told me what she heard happened back at that rest stop. Didn't know the whole story but she heard someone was murdered..."

Sam's head shot up. "...murdered?"

Dean's eyes were wide. "Holy..."

"Well, the pervert did have a knife, and he did say if I went with him, no one would get hurt," Sam rationalized.

John said, "we don't know who did what yet. The perp is in custody, apparently. The only loose end is the security camera which I have my friend Deacon looking into right now. Just need to wait for Deacon's call."

"I say, let's just move on." Dean turned on the ignition and looked behind him as he backed out. "Sam, you should sleep when you're done eating...you look like death warmed over."

He ignored the glimpse he caught of Sam rolling his eyes which told him, 'don't be so bossy.'

Sam opened the box on his lap. "Dad, you got me a salad? You know I don't get salads anymore!"

"Sam, I got it for you because of what happened to you today, I thought I'd get you your favorite."

"I haven't asked for a salad for a long time now."

Dean jumped in. "It hasn't been that long...you're such a drama geek. Sam, I'll give you one of my cheeseburgers and we can split the salad."

"It's alright, Dean. You're driving."

John held his serving up and said, "Just give me your salad and you can eat what I got."

Sam traded John's food with his. "Thanks, Dad," he grumbled.