A/N: Hey Everyone! I hope you're all doing well! Here is the next chapter. Enjoy :)

Chapter 5: Bluffing Buffoon

It had started to rain again, the clouds promising nothing but gloom and darkness for the last hour of their trip. Sam had managed to cut down their driving time by a few hours with his speeding and he would take any chance at getting to Bobby's sooner.

Dean had remained asleep shortly after they had left the gas station which Sam was grateful for. He was sure his body could use it and more importantly needed it. Sleep definitely wasn't a cure all, but it was a way for the body to heal itself and detach from life.

It sure didn't look comfortable though. Dean's back and neck would be killing him when he finally woke. The way he was hunched in the seat, his neck dangling off the side of the leather chair, he would for sure be waking up with quite a headache. His head was resting against the back of the seat, the padding digging into his skull. One arm was thrown over his chest while the other hung limply beside him. His eyebrows were tightly knitted together and his mouth was drawn in a firm grimace.

If Sam didn't know any better he would think Dean wasn't sleeping and just riding out whatever pain he was experiencing, but his breathing gave it away. Dean definitely snored when he was dead to the world, but when he was just napping or "thinking with his eyes closed" as he liked to say, his nose made a quiet whistle as his breathing slowed down and became more relaxed.

They both enjoyed sleep. It was the one time they could get away from their problems and go into a peaceful unconsciousness. It was a rest for their mind, a silent reprieve from any monsters they were hunting or any of their own personal struggles. When they slept, they were normal. They were like any other human being getting rest so that their bodies could function the next day. Sam knew that Dean had a hard time sleeping pretty much since he was little.

Anytime he would wake up in whatever dingy motel their dad had left them in for the night, he would wake to see Dean sitting by the door, a rifle gripped tightly in his hand. His knuckles white and shaking as he would hold his breath waiting for any slight noise or even the distinct sound of the Impala's engine alerting them to their fathers presence, but that sound was far and fleeting. The rifle stood a head taller than his older brother and seemed to blend into his shadow. The weapon and his brother becoming one.

His dad had left him that for protection, but it seemed Dean relied on it more to keep him stable and sane than for protection. They were just boys then. But every single night in whatever city, in whatever musty run down room they stayed in, Dean grew up more every time. Eventually that 12 year old boy had turned into a grown man, taking on all responsibility for Sam's sake.

Sam remembered with a frown when Dean would leave, promising Sam everytime he would come back. And that he would just have to trust him and everything would be alright.

And Sam would wait patiently and reassured at first but as the hours dragged, worry would creep in his mind. But as soon as a terrible thought of what could have happened to his brother came rushing in, the door would pop open and Dean would walk in, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

Sometimes bruised or with blood tattered clothes, but otherwise alright. He always brought something back from his "trips." It usually meant food for Sam. Sam never knew until years later that when Dean left the motel, it was to go steal food for both of them to have.

Every once in awhile, Dean would get caught and the amount of food didn't seem to be enough for two growing boys. Everytime Sam questioned that, Dean would say he had already eaten.

So Sam was usually the only one who ate while Dean kept an eye on him and kept an eye on the door waiting for a man who promised to come back , who promised to keep them safe, to never arrive.

That was their life. That was their childhood growing up. It wasn't till years later that Sam learned that Dean had been lying when he said he had eaten already and that really he rationed the food so Sam would have something to put in his mouth every night.

As they got older, those trips eventually turned into more than just stealing food and soon Dean was running scams to get money from other people or using fake credit cards to pay for the necessities.

That was one thing that Sam didn't agree with, but he did appreciate that when Dean said the money was for the necessities, it really was.

Even though they stole, the money was only used to basically keep them alive and functioning day to day. Food, gas for the Impala, motels, the occasional new, (mostly used) thrift shop pair of jeans or jacket when a particular hunt would ruin their clothes pretty much making them unwearable.

Oh and…beer because clearly that was a necessity for Dean.

It was hard to figure out how much to steal so they wouldn't get caught and Sam argued with Dean about the scams quite a bit when he first mentioned the idea saying how dad had done it before and he'd be better at it. And if they did get caught, Dean would gladly go to jail if that's what Sam was worried about.

As if that was what he was worried about…

It was wrong, but he couldn't argue with the fact that their lives were not their own. They were always on their feet, running, driving to whatever location had a monster or creature they were hunting. They couldn't just settle into some apple pie life, get a job, and make their way in the world. It wasn't fair, but it was their job. That's how their dad had taught them and they would take those life lessons to their grave.

Sam rose his hand up to stifle a yawn, not wanting any sound or any movement to disturb Dean's sleep. Even though he was glad his older brother was sleeping, he knew he was a light sleeper. The gray pavement and yellow lines were starting to blur and sway in front of his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear his vision. He had been driving since early this morning, admiring the sunrise and now driving through a heavy gray mass of clouds. The sun had vanished hours ago. The rain had slowed a bit which had helped somewhat, but he was starting to feel his body tiring.

Every ache and bruise that was currently on his body was making itself known. The leather cushion was even starting to bother him with its stiff hard material. His legs were shaking a bit and he desperately wanted to stretch his legs. Or at least just stand. Sitting for hours messed with his mental state. His brother was similar in that way. They couldn't sit still for too long. Sitting meant weakness. It meant thoughts creeping in that needed to be tucked away. It meant not doing their job and relaxing. However you had to sit to drive so Sam didn't consider this relaxing. It was just a way of getting to their next job.

He chanced a glance in his rear view mirror and saw the dark circles under his brown eyes, the red blotches painting the white showing his clear exhaustion. His hair was stringy and starting to frizz from the humid air. He just wanted to finally get to Bobby's so he could get out of this car that seemed to swallow him more and more every minute.

Dean grunted and shifted his head off the headrest and now it was laying against the glass of the window. Sam looked over and grabbed his jacket off the floor and reached over to lay it over his brother, keeping one hand still on the steering wheel.

"Just a few more hours…" Sam whispered to himself and looked once more over at Dean to make sure the movement didn't wake him. When he saw he was still sleeping, he focused his eyes back on the road.

"Just a few."

Brown eyes snapped open once again as the exhaustion was overwhelming all of his senses. It was pitch black now, late enough that even the street lights were off. Sam was now driving on side streets, grateful to be off the never ending freeway. He desperately wanted to pull over and sleep, but there was no point because he knew he was close to Bobby's place.

They knew this area by heart because they had basically grown up there and they both had a good sense of direction, but Sam was still driving in darkness and relying only on his instincts and memory to guide him there. And the will to just stop the car and curl up somewhere and sleep was not helping at all.

Sam blinked hard a few times and slapped his cheeks, opening his mouth to stretch his jaw, hoping to clear the heavy feeling in both of his ears.

"Where are we?" Dean croaked out, his voice heavy with sleep.

"Almost there."

Dean didn't respond and slowly rose up off the seat, pulling the lever beside the chair to straighten it. The jacket fell from his shoulder once again, but he didn't even notice. He looked out both windows just to be met with pure black on either side. Blinking a few times to clear his vision didn't help. His eyes were dry and felt like sandpaper. The only light they had was the lit up radio showing the station number that was currently playing softly.

Dean looked over at Sam and saw his hunched up posture, one knee was bouncing aggressively up and down. Sam had his eyes glued on the road, one long strand of hair was dangling over his forehead while the rest had been raked through. His eyes were bloodshot and Dean could see how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel. His head was stretched out over the wheel slightly as he was anxiously looking for the right street so they could finally turn. Driving in the country always seemed to be more than they bargained for.

"You look like hell."

He had been driving basically the entire day. That was not the plan originally. Dean was just gonna let him drive his baby for an hour just to humor him before taking over. But he didn't expect to fall asleep and then to sleep for most of the drive. He normally couldn't even fall asleep in cars. At most he could nap for an hour. He felt a pang of guilt as he could clearly see how tired Sam was.

"Sam, let me drive."

Brown eyes shot over in disbelief before crinkling back into exhaustion.

"No." He took a pause knowing Dean was about to argue. He inhaled deeply through his nose, saying the same lie he had been telling himself for the last couple of hours. He was bluffing. He had to be. A couple of hours passed a couple of hours ago. Surely he had to be bluffing.

"We're almost there."

"You sure about that?" Dean asked, green eyes darted back and forth. seeing nothing but black in every window.

"I'm…sure." Sam ground out, bracing both hands on top of the leather wheel.

Dean kept silent after that, feeling the tension radiating off Sam in waves.

The radio was playing softly in the speakers and they sat in awkward silence for a few minutes. Sam knew he still had a few more miles to go and talking sometimes did help him stay awake. And he couldn't deny the fact that he needed to know how Dean was doing. It wasn't like him to sleep so long, in a car of all places. In the Impala.

His Baby.

The car Sam was currently driving. The car that would cause Dean to whack Sam's hand if he even touched the driver side door. The change was unsettling.

"How are you feeling?"

Dean turned his head back over to look at Sam who glanced at him before focusing back on the dark winding road. He cleared his throat feeling an uncomfortable tightness there.

"I'm alright. My head's a little foggy though."

Sam's eyes widen and he looks over, not expecting Dean to give an actual answer to his question.

"What?"

"Nothing, just didn't expect you to actually say something besides "I'm okay." Sam says, mocking Dean with his tone of voice and using air quotes.

"Well…I am okay."

"There it is!" Sam quips back.

Dean opens his mouth to respond, but closes it after a second.

"You sure you don't want me to drive? You get a little bitchy when you're tired."

"A little?" Sam says, a playful smirk tugging on his lip so Dean knew he was joking.

Dean smiles back and reaches over to put a tape in the cassette player.

"There's one already in." Sam speaks up when he sees Dean fumble with the tape in his hands.

"Remember?"

Then it hits him square in the gut. Of course he didn't remember.

"Oh."

"I was just playing the radio cause you fell asleep after I put on Metallica."

"I did?"

"Uh..yeah you did."

"I don't fall asleep in cars." Dean realized how dumb he sounded. He had literally just slept nearly the entire drive since they had left the gas station.

"I hate to break it to you, but you do. And you also drool a little…." Sam says with a grimace and brushes his hand for good measure. He can see Dean shaking his head at him from the corner of his eye and holds back a chuckle.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Green eyes lock with brown before they both break into a smile. They fall into a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the quiet and the lull of the Impala's engine.

There was absolutely no traffic at this time of night and most people would feel wary driving all alone in a mass of dark woods, but Sam and Dean weren't most people.

Dean looks out his window just watching black and more black zoom by. He didn't remember a time when it was so dark. He couldn't even make out any trees and if the moon was out, it was hiding somewhere. He peers at Sam from the corner of his eye and sees him stifle another yawn.

"You sure you don't want me to drive? It could be a bit longer than you think."

"Actually, we're here." Sam announces, finally spotting the street sign and turning right. He had to admit he expected more. All this driving and driving and driving and he had finally…. arrived.

It made him have a new appreciation for Dean.

He was sure he would hear trumpets and see a red carpet roll out in front of them leading them to their destination. A big lit up sign spinning and blinking with the words"You're Here." Perhaps that was just the sleep deprivation getting to him.

The tires crunched under them as they drove down the bumpy dirt road before reaching Bobby's graveyard of cars scattered about to let them know they were home.

Sam couldn't hold back his exhale of relief when he finally turned into the lot of mangled cars.

"We're here." Dean said, once the car rolled to a stop.

It took all of Sam's willpower to not say "No shit."

Sam heard the door open and close and was left alone for a minute. He closed his eyes. He was beyond done. Even his eyes ached now. For some reason the reward of standing up and being able to stretch his legs was not sounding so appealing anymore. Not as much as just letting his eyes slip closed for a while.

Suddenly something banged on top of the car startling Sam.

"C'mon Sammy. Up and at em." Dean said, leaning down to meet his eyes. When did Dean get out of the car?

Sam glared at Dean for waking him, but he was right. He needed to get out of the car. With a resigned sigh, he opened his door, making Dean move out of the way. Long legs slowly made their way out of the car, the soreness and tingling feeling, running all the way down to his toes.

Then it felt good. And then it felt really good. The fresh cool air hitting his face, blowing the annoying strands of hair out of his eyes, the sensation of feeling returning to his legs as he walked around. No longer squashed in leather. No longer having to squint through a windshield. He took in a breath enjoying his freedom but it was short lived.

"You gonna help me get our bags or do you plan on staying out here all night?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes, looking over the trunk at his younger brother. He looked as though he had no cares in the world and was content to stay out in the darkness.

A cold breeze tore through his jacket, whipping some leaves around. All of nature's moments were suddenly annoying Dean.

"Yeah I'm coming." Sam walked over and swung one bag over his shoulder. He watched as Dean tried to do the same and stumbled. Sam reaches out an arm to help and if looks could kill….

Dean finally manages to swing the bag over his shoulder, leaving a free hand to grab a few weapons. He didn't need to bring everything. They knew they were safe at Bobby's. There was a small comfort in that.

"I wonder why Bobby didn't come out to meet us."

Dean groans as they start walking up the long dirt path through the broken down cars up to the house. He was hoping Bobby would carry some of their stuff. That small hope was quickly crushed.

Sam on the other hand was enjoying the walk. He was definitely tired, but something about being outside in fresh mountain air knowing they were visiting an old friend. A second father to them. Sam couldn't help the pep in his step.

"He's probably sleeping."

"You know he doesn't sleep." Dean jokes, but there was some truth in what he said.

Bobby kept an odd sleeping schedule. He was almost as bad as Dean. There were times when they would arrive at three in the morning just to see Bobby have a nose in a book or be on his knees in the middle of his floor, newspapers scattered about as he scanned each one looking for a hunt. Or drinking beer in his kitchen as if it wasn't the middle of the night.

Sam couldn't argue with that and they kept walking. They kept pace with each other for a bit, but when Dean started to slow, Sam stopped and turned around to see his brother faltering in his steps.

"Dean?"

"Just keep walking, Sam."

Sam sighed and turned back around, but he slowed his pace down so Dean could catch up. That bed was so close, he could taste it.

"About time you boys showed up!" A gruff voice called out in the darkness.

Time seemed to slow to a stop as they finally saw the bearded man come out, a baseball cap flat on his head. His stern face broke out into a big smile.

Dean and Sam had to hold back from running like two little boys back into a father's arms.

They both unknowingly hurried their pace as they saw Bobby walking towards them. The comfort, knowing they were safe and would be safe as long as they stayed with Bobby was overwhelming both of them. And the love, being with a loved one that wasn't killed by some horrible monster or evil spirit, that was a rare and special thing.

Bobby embraced Sam first. They shared a knowing look that Dean didn't quite catch on to. Before Dean could even open his mouth to question it, he was wrapped in strong flannel covered arms, his rough beard scraping against Dean's cheek.

Once he let go, he took a step back and took in both of them. They looked worn out. Sometimes if he didn't blink, they turned into two little boys right in front of him, but they were grown men now. Tired looking men.

Sam seemed to sway as he stood in front of Bobby. His brown eyes were glassy and bloodshot. His hair dangled in his eyes, the rest was tangled and frizzy. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at Bobby as if asking a silent question. Bobby smiled back to reassure him.

Then he looked over at the one that had him worried for days, tossing and turning in any little sleep he managed to get. When Sam had told him he thought something was wrong with Dean, the endless amount of possibilities caused horror to flood through Bobby.

He had been doing research as Sam's weekly phone calls filled him in with more information each time. And no answers were good.

Dean looked tired. The kind of tired you can't sleep off. His posture was slouched even though he was standing. He looked small, his shoulders hunched in. His arms laid limply at his sides, a big tear in one sleeve of his jacket. There was a white wrap around his hand. He'd ask about that later. He seemed unsteady on his feet but before Bobby could continue any further observation green eyes narrowed at him and Bobby knew Dean wouldn't appreciate the concern.

"It's good to see you boys." Bobby says in a warm voice, hoping that settles the quiet tension that had fallen between the three of them.

"You too, Bobby."

A smile graces Dean's face and he looks over at Sam. There was a warmth surrounding them.

"Well let's get out of this miserable cold and get you boys something to drink."

"Now you're talking." Dean gleefully replies, his green eyes lighting up as he smacks his palms together and rubs them.

Bobby and Sam glare at Dean.

"I meant something nonalcoholic." Bobby says, furrowing his eyebrows at Dean and watches as the little boy fades away.

"That word is not in my vocabulary." Dean smirks, not missing a beat.

Sam rolls his eyes but can't help but smile. They were home. Here with Bobby.

Finally safe. Finally surrounded by loved ones.

He felt relieved. He knew Bobby could help him figure out what was wrong with Dean. He knew it. For now, just being home was enough.

For now.

Alright that's chapter 5! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know your thoughts and review. Thanks for reading :)