Summary of what is to come: Dean is relieved after finding the Impala after it was suddenly stolen. But as the Winchester brothers and company embark on a new hunt, strange things start happening around the family car. Is Sam going mad? Or is the Impala out to get him? Winchester whumpage on both sides ahead!

I wanted to write and finish this before the next episode comes out in April :) I hope I get it done though because I have so much work to do :(

I hope you enjoy the story! This is what I have so far:




"Sam, I swear if you don't shut up I will kick you out of this car."

It was a harsh comment, Dean would admit that inside his own mind, but he knew Sam would never take it to heart.

Sam huffed loudly; his head leant back against the car seat. "Dean, stop avoiding the situation. Just let me drive."

"Dude, I'm fine!" Dean insisted angrily, clenching his knuckles around the wheel, shuffling in his seat.

"You practically fell asleep at the wheel back there!" Sam argued back.

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did."

"You're just as tired as me, Sammy." Dean countered apathetically.

Sam mumbled, "That's not true..."

The decrease of volume in his voice made it obvious he was lying.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his face. His eyelids felt like weights and kept fluttering open and closed making his vision painful, and just holding his arms up to the steering wheel drained his entire body. It hurt to stay awake.

It was 10.30am on a Saturday morning, the Impala was making its way across the straight grey road, the early sun shined on its hood, resembling a beetle's shiny shell making a long merciless journey to their next hunt: reported demon sightings in the next town. The Winchester brothers were exhausted.

Although not too tired to bicker.

"Just one hour, I'll drive one hour Dean. Please." Sam pleaded; the only thing stopping his own eyes from closing was his concern for his older brother, willing himself to stay awake.

Dean drew in a breath, ready to rudely decline Sam's pleas when he noticed a small area of shops appear above the horizon. He squinted his tired eyes.

"No need, we're stopping here." Dean announced. Sam followed his line of vision.

"Motel...gas station." Sam spotted. "Sounds good to me."

"You need anything while I'm in there?" Dean asked, leaning into the car from outside.

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. Can you hurry up though? This place is kind of," he hesitated, "eerie."

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked around. The area was deserted; any people there were hanging out inside the diners or shops.

"Tell you what, if you see a clown or midget, honk the horn." Before he could hear Sam's scoff he slammed the door and headed into the small shop to pay for the fuel.


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Sam watched him go, shaking his head. He felt dizzy from the journey, but wasn't keen on winding down the windows. He was on edge enough by just keeping the doors unlocked. Taking one last look around, Sam realized that there was nothing to worry about. He saw fuel stops all the time, many shadier than this. He wound down the windows, coming to the conclusion that he was just being paranoid. Closing his eyes and settling further into the seat, Sam tried to rest.

That was until he heard the yelling.

A gunshot blasted through the air, leaving a shadow of an echo, and a screaming silence.


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Dean's head snapped up at the terrifying sound, his fear pinched his stomach. The shop had been empty so at least there was no one he had to put up an innocent front to. Pulling out his gun, he cautiously made his way outside the shop.

The sound of screeching tires caught his attention, and the next thing he saw caused him to freeze in horror.

The Impala.

His car.

His baby.

Driving away from him.

Dean’s legs came to life, running after the car hijackers, his brain not quite catching up, although he could vaguely hear his own voice, shaking as his body jolted about trying to chase the vehicle, “My car. My car. My car. My car.”

His brain began to function, anger coloured his thoughts as he sprinted after the speeding car. Dean’s car. Not their getaway drive!

He could make out several figures jumbling about inside, no doubt they had been responsible for the gunfire.

He almost tripped and fell on his face as he realized the most important thing he’d missed.

Gunfire…Sam. Where was Sam?

Had he been shot? Had he run straight past his brother who could have been injured or worse?

The fear squeezed at Dean’s heart, but his legs weren’t listening to the alarm bells going off in his mind. He couldn’t stop running even though the Impala was fast moving away.

Suddenly one of the doors was opening, and before Dean could even comprehend how or why, he saw Sam. He saw his brother.

Sam was pushed out of the moving vehicle.

The fear squeezing Dean’s chest engulfed his heart.

“Sam!” He roared, the impala completely forgotten.

The younger Winchester collided with the concrete, roughly rolling several times before coming to a prompt halt, his arms shot out to his sides on the impact. And then he was still.

Dean was at his brother’s side in the next couple of seconds, leaning over his spread eagled form, terrified. He took one final glance at the Impala, speeding into the distance before concentrating fully on Sam.

His brother’s head was tilted to one side, revealing a graze on his cheek and down his neck, bright with blood.

Dean sucked in a breath, seeing his brother broken on the ground shook him. He partly blamed himself; the place had been empty for a reason, dammit! He should have listened to Sam when he said he didn’t like the area. And to think, the last words he said to him were, ‘honk the horn’!

“Sammy?” Dean called softly, putting his hand on his shoulder. After no response, Dean drew both his hands to Sam’s torso and probed his body to check for injuries. Sam’s clothes had been ripped and worn from his collision with the road. As soon as his fingers touched his ribcage, Sam gasped and his eyes shot open, they were alive with fear. But alive.

“Sammy.” Dean said again, but more gruffly. He didn’t want to scare his brother by letting him know he was terrified by his brother’s sensitive reaction and pained face.

Sam was breathing heavily, his face twisting in pain at every breath. He tried to voice his pants and let Dean know what the hell just happened.

“De…”

“Don’t speak.” Dean instructed quickly.

“The car…” He gasped apologetically.

“Just…shut up and lay still, I need to think.”

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This was not good. They were still more than five miles away from the town, stuck in this dodgy stop with no ride, Sam was hurt and his baby had been stolen! Why the Impala?

Ah, the Impala, such a legendary vehicle. It was more than just transport. For Dean, it symbolized himself, so unique and good looking. He had practically lived in it, his memories of the many motels he stayed at were blurred but he remembered sitting in the back of the Impala when he was as young as four years old.

Dean was busy reminiscing about the day he was first given his baby when he was brought back to the troubling situation with a groan from Sam. He shuffled uncomfortably on the hard ground, slowly bringing his hands up to his injured face.

“Easy there.” Dean murmured, holding Sam’s arms. Before Sam could even protest a third party joined the scene

“Is he okay?”

Dean jumped, not even realizing that several people coming out of the diner had watched Sam being thrown out of the car. In the back of his selfish mind his dignity wobbled at the thought of everyone watching him leg it after his own car. His exasperation pushed it aside.

“What the hell happened?” He demanded angrily to no one in particular.

“A bunch of guys in the diner,” a witness started shakily, “they just suddenly took out these guns and took all the money everyone had in there.”

The restaurant owner piped up, “It looked pretty spur of the moment, seeing as they had to steal a car for a getaway vehicle.”

“What kind of maniacs go around carrying gun?” Someone from the crowd cried.

Dean curled his lip and exchanged glances with Sam.

“Look, is he alright?” The first person to speak said. A ripple of concern crossed the small crowd’s faces as they all turned their attention back to Sam, who wrinkled his nose and turned his head away, embarrassed.

“It doesn’t look like anything’s broken; if we’re lucky there are only bruises around the ribcage to look out for.” Dean said confidently, meaning to console his brother rather than the crowd.

Reassured there was no life threatening danger, the people who had approached the Winchesters seemed to back up and focus more on their own worries. A few got out phones to call for help.

Dean took his hands away from Sam and fished into his pocket; grabbing his cell phone he quickly dialed a number.

“I’m calling Bobby.” He grunted, holding the phone to his ear. Bobby Singer had himself been on his way to the same town as the brothers, they were going to investigate on the demon sightings together. It looked to be a dangerous hunt.

Sam nodded, still panting slightly. He was still shaken by what had just happened, the image of being pushed out of the speeding car flying through his mind. The fear made him sick, and the pain dancing on his ribs would ache every time he took in a breath. Sam closed his eyes, his head spinning. It felt like a merry go round was inside his head, even when his vision was black he could still feel the wooden horses circling his brain, taunting him.

“Hey!”

Sam opened his eyes again at his brother’s sharp call. His eyes seemed a lot less focused than before.

“What’s wrong?” Dean’s eyes swiveled over Sam once more, searching for his discomfort.

“Back of… head.” While Dean’s adrenaline had shaken off any fatigue he had felt minutes before, Sam began to feel drained again, making it hard to even speak.

Dean carefully put his hands behind Sam’s head; he felt something drip onto his fingers.

“Dammit.” He whispered, bringing his hands to his eyes and found the tips of his fingers coated in blood.

Sam’s breathing hitched as he realized it was his own blood. He squeezed his eyes shut and silently begged the merry go round ride to stop.

“Sam!” Dean barked, keen to keep Sammy awake. “Don’t go freaking out on me! It’s just a small bit of blood, okay? I’ve had worse injuries than this and I’ve kept it together.”

Sam pried open his eyes at this, determined to stay awake.

“Come on.” Dean said more gently, kneeling over to Sam’s side and gripping his arm. “Bobby’s on his way.”

He slowly pulled Sam into a sitting position, and inspected the back of his head before making him stand. The red blood was evident between his dark, wavy hair. It must have been what knocked Sam out when he was thrown out of the car. Seeing as his brother was conscious, Dean concluded that the head injury wouldn’t make that much of a threatening impact on his life. Not that it wouldn’t hurt like a bitch.

Sam grunted as Dean helped heave him to his feet, his feet crossed over one another and he stumbled into Dean, luckily his older brother was prepared to support him, and slung his arm around his waist, taking the burden.

“Let’s get off the road.” He puffed.

They stumbled together to an old bench just by the car park.

It took only a little more than five minutes for Bobby to show up, but by then Sam was getting sleepy, his head nodding and lolling onto Dean’s shoulder. Dean would wrench it upright again and complain about how wimpy Sam was being, encouraging his brother to argue back so he would stay awake.

Bobby’s car pulled up on the side of the road, and Dean breathed a sigh of relief at the aid. Stepping out the car and slamming the door shut Bobby walked up to them, shaking his head at their spaced expressions.

“What trouble have you boys gotten into now?”

Dean shook his head, meaning he’d offer an explanation later. “Just help me get him into your truck. The police’ll be here any minute.”

“I can walk, Dean!” Sam snapped irritably. Dean rolled his eyes. If Sam was going to be stubborn it was his own problem. Of course under the circumstances of him being injured, Dean would just have to take his stubbornness with a pinch of shut-the-hell-up-with-your-moaning.

“Whatever.” Holding an arm under Sam’s armpit, he helped lift him to his feet. Letting Sam have some dignity, he let him walk alone to the car, but hovered close by.

Bobby walked behind him, muttering in his ear.

“Is your brother going to be okay? We could have a pretty big hunt ahead of us.”

Dean held open the door for Sam, ignoring his brother’s grumbling as he carefully got in, and slammed it shut. He turned to Bobby.

“Well he’s going to have to be. ‘Cos I’m going into that town no matter what, I’ll search night and day. I don't even need to sleep”

Bobby snorted. “You seem damn angry about finding these demons.”

Dean shook his head, and walked around to the other side of the car. He looked back at Bobby square in the eye. His face hard with determination, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Demons later. First I’m going to go get my car back.”


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The ride into town was a bumpy one for Sam, despite the smoothness of the road. Dean’s fury had finally caught up with him.

Nostrils flaring, Dean mercilessly ranted, swore and cursed for the robbers, condemning them to hell, describing how he would treat them once he got his hands on them. Because he would. No matter what.

Sam was tuning in and out, he didn’t know what was worse: Concentrating on the rage radiating from Dean, spreading around the car to Sam like smoke, or concentrating on the anxiety in his heart, the soreness of his ribs and the sting on his face and neck. He held a cloth to the back of his bleeding head but it was still pounding the pain around the rest of his brain, so in the end he couldn’t help but space out of Dean’s one way conversation about how he would get his revenge.

“…And then I’ll shove that up their asses and throw them out of a moving vehicle…”

“Dean,” He whispered. To Sam his brother’s voice was wavering like a radio prone to static. Bobby glanced at Sam through his rearview mirror, looking concerned.

“…I’ll let them think they’ve escaped, and then out of nowhere I’ll machete their face into a…”

Sam’s breathing became heavy, his vision becoming vague.

“…In a dungeon far, far away where no one can hear them…”

“Stop the car.” Sam gasped, but it went unheard under the loud rumble of the engine.

“…and scratch their eyes out!” Dean was exclaiming. “Scratch the- Sam?” He stopped mid rant when Sam suddenly punched the ceiling of the car.

“Stop the car.” He shrieked urgently.

Bobby pulled on the brakes, glad the road was virtually empty. Sam staggered out the door, then stumbled off the road and plunked himself down on the side of the road.

Dean slowly stepped out of the truck. He was keen to get moving to the town as quickly as possible, but judging from Sam’s frustration, he wasn’t going to be rushed. His anger towards the robbers was overshadowed once again by concern for his brother. A pang of guilt swept across Dean’s body, stopping him in his tracks. No wonder Sam wanted out of the car, he was probably pissed that Dean was more upset about the car being stolen than pushing him at the car.

The elder Winchester opened his mouth to offer his brother the most sincere and reassuring apology and pep talk when Sam leaned over and a horrible retching sound filled his ears. Dean’s eyes widened and he closed his mouth. Then he opened it again. Whatever crap he expected to come out of Sam’s mouth, he wasn’t quite prepared for it to literally happen.

Sam spat and coughed, breathing deeply. He began to sit up slowly, hoping his stomach was now still when Dean cautiously squatted down next to him. Sam wasn’t sure whether he was annoyed because he had been sick, that his injuries still stung or that he had flown out of the car quite unexpectedly that morning, all he knew was that he was annoyed. So he ignored his brother.

“Sam.” Dean poked his shoulder softly, matching his voice. Sam didn’t answer; he only looked on straight ahead, gulping in air. His eyes were frowning.

Dean couldn’t tell if it was because the sun was in his eyes or he was angry, so he took this time to inspect the back of Sam’s head.

“Bleedings stopped.” He commented, trying to sound upbeat. He paused, feeling slightly ashamed. Sam was hurt and instead of making sure he was alright, all Dean had cared about was the car! He looked over at Bobby, who was sitting in the car looking at Dean expectantly. Turning back to Sam he said very matter-of-factly,

“So, did you have him stop the car ‘cause you knew you’d be sick or are you just pissed at me?”

Sam turned his head to look at him, glaring. “What?”

Dean shrugged. “Come on, you think I don’t know you? I’m sorry if you’re upset-”

“I’m not upset!”

“-but not only has our ride, our home been stolen but it’s got all our stuff in it. Everything. And we need it back now.” Dean’s voice was hard.

Sam sighed. “I know.”

Dean stood up and held out a hand for him. “Then stop feeling sorry for yourself and let’s go get it back.”

“It’s not my fault I felt sick!” Sam huffed defensively, but took Dean’s outstretched hand.

Bobby shook his head as he watched the boys make it back to the car. They hadn’t even gotten into the town yet and it was already full of problems. This was going to be one tough gig. If there did happen to be demons inhabiting near by, getting rid of them would be tough without the Colt. Bobby had been told of how Dean and Sam managed to defeat thirty demons surrounding a building, and when they had all heard the rumours about the next town, they had agreed that if they were true then citizens were in danger. That couldn’t wait. Colt or no colt.


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The rest of car ride into town was silent, albeit a little awkward. But Dean was thinking straight, and Sam was calming down.

Bobby took this moment to inform the boys of Jack O’Doherty; a hunter and a good friend of his. He trusted him, and Jack was waiting in the town for Bobby this moment.

“…His friend has his own small place here but he rarely lives in it as he’s mostly on the road hunting like you guys, so that means we’ll all be staying there while we investigate.”

Dean leant against the window. “It sounds a hell of a lot better than some cheap motel. Are you sure we can trust this guy though?”

Bobby nodded. “Undoubtedly. He worked with your dad a few times in the past. Hell he’s had my back a number of times.”

Dean was convinced. “You alright with that Sam?”

There was a pause.

“Sam?”

His brother’s voice wavered from the backseat. “…Eh?”

Dean teasingly spoke slowly and purposefully. “Are. You. Alright. With. That?”

Another pause.

“Yeah.” And then a louder, “Yeah…”

Dean rolled his eyes, and leaned over to Bobby.

“Listen when we get to the town can we go back to this friend of your friend’s house?” He flicked his head to Sam. “I don’t think he’s up to scouting for our car.”

Bobby nodded. “No problem, Dean.”

Dean looked out the window thinking. He turned back to Bobby again.

“You know… just to be safe and all.”

“It’s okay Dean.”


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The town looked fairly normal. As it was daytime and in the middle of the week, the roads weren’t busy, and only the elderly and parents with small children littered the paths.

Bobby pulled into a small house at the end of a suburban street. Dean stepped out the truck and inspected the overgrown lawn, and the long, ugly vines that swept across the front of the house. The white paint that first adorned the house was graying and cracked, and the windows were partly bordered up.

“So, er, Jack wasn’t kidding when he said his friend didn’t come here much.”

“Must be a bitch for the real estate agents to sell.” Bobby quipped over the roof of the car, walking round to open the door for Sam. “We’re here.”

“I know.” Sam said, slightly agitated. “I’m not a little kid Bobby.” He stepped out the car, the dizziness made him light headed but he was determined to at least make it to the front door by himself.

It took a while for Jack to answer. Dean heard several bolts being opened. The door opened a crack.

“That you Bobby?” The voice was rough.

“Hey Jack.”

The door was pushed fully open. There stood a man around the age of John Winchester, only to Dean he looked much older. His eyes were sunken and he held a weary tint in his eyes. Stubble lined his strong jaw and his graying hair was cut short.

“These the Winchesters?” He asked, nodding at Sam and Dean.

“No they’re demons. Let us in already, Sam here got hurt a while back.”

Jack stood aside for the men to walk in, he looked around briefly before closing the door again.

Yes, this town looked fairly normal, only these hunters were sure that underneath lurked something fairly supernatural.


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Okay some people might think it's off to a slow start but I promise it will really start to take off :)

I'd love to hear what you all think! x

aw sammy pushed out of the impala ah....them some goons getting away with it
the only peepl who are aloud to drive the imapla are sam and dean :car

but i loves the story keep it up and i am hoping for an update soon :lol:

:huh: Great start! Poor Sam, that had to hurt. I think Dean could be a little more sympathetic. Can't wait to read more.

Cindy.

Oopsy, I forgot I posted some of this fic on this site! :lol:
Here is some more for anyone who maybe just slightly interested :P


“Your car got stolen?” Jack said with raised eyebrows. “How?”

Dean scratched the back of his head. “Er, I’m still trying to understand that myself actually.” He stood opposite Jack leaning against the door frame and turned his head into the room where Sam lay on a bed. His arm was thrown over his eyes and his knees were bent inwards. Sam hadn’t moved from the spot since Jack showed him to the bedrooms, and Dean hadn’t moved more than eight feet away from his brother since then.

“Sam don’t go to sleep.” Dean called. Sam groaned but made no effort to move.

“His head injury,” Dean explained to Jack, “He was in the Impala at the time. Those son of a bitches threw him out while they were driving away.”

“Did he tell you anything more? What they looked like, what weapons they were carrying?”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to go troubling him. I’d know my car anywhere whoever the driver. And I don’t care if they’re dangerous, it’s not gonna stop me.” Dean’s words were dark, but his face carried a neutral, almost relaxed expression.

Jack gave him a long bored look, silent. Dean stood there for a second, and then his eyes swerved to his right, then left, as if looking for an excuse as to why the older man wasn’t responding. A minute passed and Jack shrugged and walked away. “As long as you come back in one piece, it’s none of my business.” Dean pulled a face, but Jack stopped suddenly, not facing him. “It’ll be alright if he sleeps for a little bit, I’ll wake him up now and again though just in case.” He said quietly.

Dean nodded, frowning at him slightly. “Yeah, okay…” he said slowly, “thanks.”

“You coming today, Dean?” Bobby yelled from the front door.

Dean shuffled past to meet Bobby. “We’ll be back later then.”

Being in Bobby’s car only reminded Dean the fact that he was without his, thus his anger had returned once more. But this time be had moved past the ranting and cursing, his fury was boiling internally like magma in a volcano, once he came face to face with the robbers, Dean would surely erupt.

“Dean?”

He grunted.

“You alright?”

He grunted again, his tone the same as before. The car was silent again for a minute.

“How d’you know Jack then?”

Bobby said, “I’ve known him for almost a decade now, but he’s constantly traveling all over the country I’ve not seen him as many times over the years as I’d have liked.”

Dean pouted. “He’s weird.”

Bobby frowned and chuckled at the same time. “Nah.”

“He’s…” Dean trailed off, unsure of what it was exactly that Jack did that creeped him out. Perhaps it was his gloomy, even haunted expression that he constantly held, or how long it took for him to respond in conversation. Or maybe it was the strange way he’d look at Sam…

“Hey, what’s going on over there?” Bobby nodded his head to an empty street except for a young man stumbled out of an alley and tripped to the floor, a look of pure terror twisted in his face. Dean sat up watching as the man threw his head round his shoulder looking behind him. The man reminded him of a lost animal running from its predator.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should just carry on.” Unfortunately the young man had noticed Bobby’s truck, and with that being one of the few and closest cars on the road he had sprinted up to them, waving his arms about madly.

Dean sighed, stepping out the car. He wanted to find his car, dammit!

“What’s wrong?” He said, his annoyance not evident in his voice.

The man looked to be around Sam’s age -maybe younger- but his beard and his now loosely fitted baseball cap he was wearing made him appear older.

“M-my friend’s being attacked.” He said breathlessly, his voice high pitched with fear.

Dean put a hand on his shoulder, Bobby appearing by his side.

“Okay, calm down. Do you know who did it? Do you know where he is?”

The young man leaned over, hands resting above his knees as he sucked in air. “…Car.” He managed to get out in a shaky voice, looking up at Dean with apologetic eyes.

“Okay,” said Bobby, “what does your car look like?”

The stranger’s voice stumbled. “Er, erm. I-It’s a black chevy, one of those really old ones. Hard to miss.”

Dean’s eyes widened then narrowed considerably. He looked at the ground, his voice low.

“Crap.” Bobby muttered.

“An Impala?”

“Y-yeah.” Before the young man could even take another breath, he was slammed violently against the brick wall behind him, Dean holding onto the front of his shirt, their faces inches apart.

“You bastard!” Dean growled through gritted teeth.

The man grew alarmed, twisting and squirming under Dean’s death glare and strong hold to no avail.

“What the hell?” He yelped. “What the hell?”

“Is that why you stole my car then? Because it was hard to miss among all the other vehicles?” Dean snarled, pushing the him further into the wall.

Realizing who Dean was, the robber’s movements stopped in surprise.

“Oh God…” He whispered, and understanding Dean’s rage, he began struggle under Dean’s grasp again only now more desperately. He had run away from his predator only to fall prey to another enemy.

“Did it matter at all that there was still in a passenger in your getaway drive?” Dean spat.

The man was terrified, unable to even try and defend himself.”

“Did you throw my brother out of a moving car you son of a bitch?” Dean roared. He drew back his hand, it curled into a fist and Dean was ready to slam it straight into this punk’s teeth when Bobby grasped his shoulder, holding it back.

“Dean, not here. Not in broad daylight.” He warned, scanning the area.

An ear piercing scream came from deep within the alley. Dean and Bobby glanced at each other. The person being attacked was without little doubt the other robber, but whether he was being attacked by a human had a lot of doubt. Dean reminded himself about the possible demons. Crook or not, he would save anyone from anything supernatural.

Dean threw the now whimpering man to the floor harshly, and he and Bobby ran into the alley.


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The alley was shadowed by the tall buildings towering above it, but a person clad in dark, ripped clothes writhing on the floor, screeching. Dean and Bobby flanked him, grabbing his arms trying to pull him up, but the man flopped and continued to holler, unaware of their presence.

“Get up, get up you bastard!” Dean grunted through gritted teeth, shaking his arm. He looked much gruffer than the other one, despite his current state. A lot more like a person who would push someone out of a car…

Bobby dropped him. “Dean…Dean he’s passed out.”

“Dammit!” Dean let go of the man. “How am I supposed to get my revenge on such a loser?”

Bobby shook his head. “I don’t know Dean, something’s not right. His friend said he was being attacked, and he sure as hell looks traumatized. But this place is deserted. Not to mention a dead end.” He gestured to the darkness ahead of them, but as both men took their eyes off the unconscious robber to the end of the alley, they both froze.

Next to a grimy dumpster, parked in the corner was the Impala, lingering in the darkness of the shadows, its curves shining over the sheet of darkness covering the car. It resembled a crouching monster, hiding in the darkness, ready to jump out suddenly.

Bobby chuckled lightly as Dean galloped towards the car, it's fierce presence a joy to him. Bobby watched him muttering to himself, placing his hands gingerly on it in case it might disappear under his touch. He moved around it, probing ever spot of the car that wasn’t against the wall.

Bobby cleared his throat and Dean turned to him, his hands out to his sides as if about to shrug.

“It’s fine.” He said blankly. There was a pause. Then his eyes widened. “Wait!”

He opened the door, Bobby heard him give a gleeful cheer as he hopped in, lumbering from each seat in the car. His head would disappear occasionally from Bobby’s sight to inspect the floor. Eventually he ended up back in the driver’s seat. Winding down the window and poking his head out the window he yelled to Bobby,

“Everything’s how it was!” His face was in complete awe.

Bobby shrugged. “Well, good!” He shouted back.

For the first time since seeing him, Dean’s face broke into a large grin.

The robber on the ground groaned and began to stir.

Dean’s grin took on a darker colour.

“Hey Bobby. Move out the way.”

"Dean, he looks hurt."

"Please? Just get in your truck, please?" Dean sounded like a child pleading to a parent for toys or sweets.

Bobby shook his head; he could see where this was going.

The young man from before was still standing outside the alley, too scared to look around and see what was going on. What had happened in that alley had terrified him. Then he froze as he heard it. That deep rumble, that low growl. His heart dropped in his chest from the fear that gripped him. He was at the end of the street, alone. No one could save him from this monster.

Without warning, the other robber bounded out of the alley, smacking into his companion.

The young man backed.

“Wha-“

The older man pushed him back further. “Run!”

The growl of the Impala turned into a roar and over his shoulder he saw the car turn around the corner. The driver was bellowing, but his face showed he was thrilled. The vehicle did not slow down at the sight of them.

Letting out petrified wails, the two robbers broke into a sprint, bounding down the street as the Impala followed with one side of the car on the pavements, closing in to them. They turned around the corner, arms flailing with their faces full of horror.

As they stumbled round the corner, faces shining with sweat, the two men noticed this street was most certainly not empty, and a few passerby’s were looking at them with raised eyebrows. They glanced at each other, and then fearfully looked over their shoulders.

A quiet Chevy turned the corner onto the road, driving slowly and almost timidly. The rumble of the engine had turned from a fierce growl to a soft purr. Just behind it a truck followed, the driver wearing a ball cap. No signs of danger were evident around the two vehicles.

Dean laughed to himself as the robbers looked at him questioningly. He had made them run for their lives, perhaps that was enough. He shook his head, he couldn’t resist. He reached over to the passenger seat, and held up a grey bag he had found there, holding it up to the robbers as he calmly drove past. He watched their confused faces twist into horror as they realized the hundreds of dollars they had stolen were in Dean’s hand.

Dean whooped, turning on the radio. His victory would last him the ride home. Once he got back, it was back to concentrating on Sam.

Sam was called back into consiousness. He turned his head, squinting his eyes open, reluctant to be brought back to reality. Not that sleeping was pleasant. Even now he was still plauged with dreams of Henricksen and a burning police station. The cries of the innocent pulled him further into despair untill he was whisked away from his dreams by his brother waking him up in the morning. Only today he was awakened by someone close to a stranger, and so reality wasn't something he was looking forward to.

Nausea still threatened Sam, but the pains in the back of his head was beginning to dull and the sharp stings from his other injuries weren't as noticeable since Jack gave him some painkillers. At the time he had considered refusing them, still cautious of the hunter. But his painful injuries eventually nagged him to just swallow the damn pills.

Jack leant against the doorway, watching Sam slowly sit up. "You should stay awake now."

Sam grunted in agreement.

Jack entered the room, he was sharpening a small daggar. Sam looked up at him carefully, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes.

"You want something?"

He replied, "You the older or younger brother?" His voice was without curiosity, suggesting small talk.

Sam leant back on his hands, his eyes watching Jack's swift and sharp movements going up and down the knife. "Younger."

"Thought so." Jack muttered.

Sam cocked his head to one side. "...Do you have any er, siblings?"

Jack ingored his question. "You been hunting with your brother long?"

"Him, my dad and I hunted together when I was a teenager. We've only worked together for roughly three years now." Sam took another breathe to ask Jack a question, when he was cut off by a blunt question coated in a casual voice.

"So which would you say was the better hunter?"

Sam drew his knees up, feeling uncomfortable. "I don't know, we're about the same I guess."

"So neither of you is better than the other? Even by just a bit?" The sharpening on the daggar grew faster, more hurried.

Sam grew annoyed. "This is none of your business." He said, making it clear the discussion was over.

Jack sighed. "Suit yourself." He sharpened his knife now in slow, long movements as he stood up. As he was leaving the room, not turning around to Sam he said, "Just don't assume that just because you're younger your brother's always going to be stronger, always going to be looking out for you."

He walked out the door, leaving Sam frustrated and provoked by the older man's ignorance. Since when did he know about how his and Dean's relationship worked? He stood up swiftly, bouncing lightly on the spot, deciding between following Jack or going back to sleep when a familiar engine roll met his ears.

Dean slammed the door shut, seeing Sam step out the house, his face filled with disbelief.

“How the hell did you-“

“Have you been resting at all since I was gone?” Dean asked, noticing Sam had a lot more energy since he last saw him.

“I’m fine.” Sam said. Dean raised his eyebrows. “I’ll be fine.” He corrected himself.

Dean nodded, relieved. “Yeah, whatever.” He lifted up the grey bag, showing it to his brother.

“What’s that?”

“The money those bitches stole.” Dean grinned.

“Oh!”

Dean waited. Bobby stepped out the truck; walking past Sam he patted him gently on the shoulder.

“We’re keeping it, by the way.” Dean added.

“Yeah, I figured.” Sam said.

Bobby walked into the house, leaving the door ajar. Dean waited some more.

“Well,” Sam started, “I don’t know how you did it but it’s great to have the Impala back.”

“What?” Dean said suddenly, annoyed.

Sam looked confused. “…What?”

“So no lecture?”

“What?” He repeated.

“Well the Sam I know would have gone crazy over the ethical and moral issues or whatever over this money by now.” Dean said with raised eyebrows.

Sam began to grow annoyed too. “So, what? You’d rather I argued with you?”

“No man that’s not it. I just, I thought you’d be a bit more concerned about all those people who are going to miss this money that’s all.”

Sam wrinkled his nose. “I don’t care.” He shrugged carelessly.

Dean’s raised eyebrows lowered into a frown. This was not like his brother.

“What?” Said Sam again, the annoyance now evident in his raised voice.

“Forget it.” Dean said, any traces of confusion or anger towards Sam had disappeared. He walked past him and said over his shoulder, “I’m gonna crash for a while. I haven’t slept for ages.”

“Okay…” Sam mumbled. At hindsight, he was starting to realize why Dean had grown concerned. He was right; if it had been a year ago he would have caused an argument about keeping the money, instead of nearly causing an argument about not arguing against it.

Sighing, Sam leant his hand on the roof of the Impala.

“At least it’s good to have you back.” He muttered. He sighed again; he really was turning into Dean! Talking to cars and all…

Shut up.

Sam blinked. That voice in his head had definitely not belonged to his conscience.

Get your hands off me.

Sam’s eyes widened, he looked around and over his shoulder. The voice came from inside his head but seemed to echo around him at the same time.

Don’t touch me, you filthy little-

Sam took his hand off the Impala, whirling around, and the voice disappeared. It slowly dawned on him…

“What the…?” Touching the Impala lightly, he heard the voice again.

I’m going to get you.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“I’m going to get you…” A deep male, voice filled with spite threatened the young man.

Sam Winchester stood frozen in time, his eyes were wide and horrified, but his lips were tweaked slightly upwards in amusement at a possible joke, ending in a rather spaced expression.

Of all the vampires, wendigos, spirits, demons Sam had encountered over the years, none had ever told him that they were, ‘going to get him’. And of all the times Sam had sat, slept, ate and complained in the Impala, it had never told him that he was, ‘going to get him’. His confusion and disbelief at what had just happened held him in his position, his hand still flat on the roof of the car.

It talked! The Impala had talked!

I’m going to get you. The creepy voice said again. Sam’s hand flew off the Impala as if scolded, watching it warily.

It held in its parked spot.

Sam shook his head, putting a hand to his forehead. He was going insane! He looked back at the house, and then craned his neck over his shoulder. No one was nearby, and Bobby, Dean and Jack were still inside the house. Sam had to be certain this was his imagination…

“Who is that?” He said softly, looking at the car. He was answered with silence. Sam hesitated, his arm wavering out in front of him. He slapped it on the hood of the Impala. The voice returned louder than ever, its malevolent speech piercing into Sam’s soul as he heard it speaking again.

…of a God, you are dead. Are you listening to me? I’m going to feel you under my wheels; your blood will spatter against the glass.

“Er, are you going to be doing that any time soon?” Sam asked incredulously, the car was still settled neatly in the driveway, engine off.

He was met with silence again, despite the fact that his hand was still placed on the strange car.

“What do you want?” Sam tried. This time he was given an immediate answer.

Leave me and Dean alone.

A surge of fear struck through Sam’s chest.

“You leave my brother alone.” He said threateningly.

The voice chuckled wickedly, Oooh, What you gonna do? Salt and burn me? Exorcise me? Do you really think Dean will let you near me with harmful intentions?

“You stay away from Dean; I don’t care if I have to push you off a damn cliff.”Sam hissed.

But Dean will.

What the hell was going on? Sam had heard of spirits possessing cars, but not in such a way before… Why would a spirit talk as if it was the car itself? Why was it bothering to interact with him? Sam said nothing, glaring at the Impala.

You know it’s true. Dean was going to give me to you when his time is finally up. How do you think he’ll feel when you try and destroy me after he finally trusts you with me?

Sam’s eyes widened.

“How did you know that?”

I’m going to get you.

“Shut up!” Said Sam, exasperated.

No, you shut up.

Sam made a noise between a laugh and a cry. He couldn’t believe he was arguing with the Impala. Who would have thought it would have such a twisted yet childish attitude?

Leave Dean alone, It whispered. Or else I’m going to get you.

“Stop it.” Sam raised his voice, his hand gripped on the shiny surface of the old vehicle.

I’m going to ram you into a wall, push you into those bricks and squish your bones and guts.

“You freak!” Sam yelled, disgusted. His hand fell away from the car.

“Sam?”

Sam spun around, Bobby stood by the front door, watching Sam with concern. Sam stared back, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the candy jar.

“I-“

“Who were you talking to?”

“I-“ Sam stuttered, his mind racing for excuses, but any sense he had made since he woke up had left with the taunting voice.

Bobby shook his head at the youngest Winchester, no longer wanting an explanation after looking into Sam’s distressed eyes.

“Just get back inside; we need to talk over tomorrow.” He flicked his head towards the house, Sam nodded, opening and closing his mouth as if trying to remember how to speak. He stood rooted to the spot.

“Well come on then!” Bobby complained. Sam jumped into action, swiftly walking back inside with his eyes cast downwards.

“Sorry…”

“Okay, recently there have been several deaths in the town. The police have no links between them, except that every victim was killed on the night they went to a certain bar, The Mayflower. What’s stranger as that is the night they were killed was the first time for them stepping into that bar. All of the regulars have been safe so far.”

Bobby, Sam and Dean sat in a circle around Jack, each bringing out their own habits as he talked. Dean was pouting in thought, one eye brow raised slightly. Sam was giving little continuous nods, and although Jack was sure he was paying attention, Bobby showed a rather blank expression.

“So the plan is that tonight, we go to the Mayflower.” Jack concluded.

Dean’s eyebrows rose to meet the other. “Is that a good idea? Exposing ourselves like that?”

“It’s better than letting anymore innocent people get hurt.”

“What do you mean?” Asked Sam.

“That place has attracted a lot of attention, especially with the media. Since the second victim’s death that place has had many newcomers flocking there each week to check out this ‘haunted’ bar. If we’re there to attract attention to ourselves whatever it is that’s doing this will most likely come to us.”

Sam’s nodding morphed into shaking his head from side to side in disappointment. “I’d thought people would most likely stay away. What kind of world is this when people treat murder so light heartedly?”

Bobby snorted. “Boy you sound older than me.”

“Yeah and it’s been a while since you’ve been so concerned about human welfare.” Dean cut in.

Sam’s jaw dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dean’s eyes flickered over Sam for a second, and for just that second Sam saw both resentment and regret. And what scared him the most, secrecy.

“What makes you so sure this is something supernatural?” Bobby started, feeling the tense atmosphere between the brothers.

“Several reasons. The deaths are nasty, freak accidents. I don’t want to get into the messy details, the least gory one was one guy from Seattle. Was found sprawled on the church roof, every single bone in his body snapped. If it was a serial killer they wouldn’t be acting alone, and the police don’t have a clue who could have done this and why, all the victims had relatively carefree lives. Not to mention the town has never seen anything like this before.” Jack answered him, his voice raised slightly to grab the attention of the boys.

Dean swiftly stood up. “Alright then. We’ll leave later tonight.” He left the room, with Sam wordlessly following his brother.

Bobby exchanged glances with Jack. “I’m sorry about those guys; I’ll give their asses a good kicking later for being so rude.”

Jack shrugged and shook his head. “Don’t do that. I’ve worked with worse. I don’t care if they’re rude, if half the stuff I’ve heard about these guys are true, I can deal with whatever crap they pull.” He and Bobby stood up.

Jack paused.

“That’s not to say I won’t give them crap back.”

Bobby corrected him, “’That’s not to say you haven’t given them crap back.’”

“What’s that now?”

Bobby adjusted his cap and sighed. “Just, please stop scaring away every hunter I bring you.”

Jack let out a low gravely laugh. Bobby supposed he must have taken it as a compliment.




Okay so who is freaked out by Jack so far? *raises hand* I've created a monster! mwahahaha...(MAY BE EXAGERATING JUST A TINY WEE BIT)
If you have reached this far to the bottom of the page, thank you ever so much!!! :) :) :)

This story is getting really good, but the impala is acting really freaky and the new hunter friend of Bobbys sounds fairly frightening and whatever is attacking the people sounds gruesome patiently waiting for more.

:o Well, holy crap! The Impala wants to kill Sam! That can't be good. Why does it want to kill Sam? Is it suddenly possessed? And Jack. What strange questions to ask Sam. This story is very interesting. I can't wait to see how it all turns out. Am waiting for the next update.

Cindy.

Impala verse Sam! This is gonna be sweet, Jack sounds fairly creapy to me. This is going to get Angsty. Can't wait for the next update.

Pops back on this story, looks around no update very sad :(

ooo this is a great story...very original...watch out SAmmmy!!
x

Oh my! I'm so flattered by all your support! It makes me very happy :) So much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I'm sorry I haven't updated for a while :( Here is more!




Sam cupped the water in his hands and splashed his face, and he released a long, heartfelt breath. His hands gripped the sink as he leaned over the running tap. Looking up into the mirror he studied his face. Drops of water trickled down his cheeks, one side of his face still grazed from his previous meeting with the road, the water stinging the injury. The memory quickly brought the Impala back to Sam’s mind; he had been thinking about it a lot.

And finally he had come to the conclusion that maybe he should tell Dean. Or maybe he shouldn’t tell Dean. Actually, he hadn’t quite come to a conclusion yet.

He stood in the small bathroom, crammed in between the facilities, thinking over what the Impala had ‘said’.

Leave me and Dean alone.

Leave me and Dean alone.

Leave me and Dean alone.

Sam shuddered, scaring himself. He found himself stumbling out of the bathroom to find Dean sprawled over one of the beds, his head face down just missing the pillow.

“Dean are you okay?”

Dean didn’t bother to answer, instead exhaled strongly through his nose to show Sam he was awake.

Sam remembered how tired they had both been this morning. Sam had slept quite easily due to the pain killers for his ribs making him drowsy, but when Dean had gone to rest his younger brother couldn’t help but notice how little he slept. Was he worrying about something? Or just over tired?

“You shouldn’t come out tonight if you’re still exhausted.” Sam said, sitting down on the other bed opposite Dean.

This time Dean answered. “Shut up Sam.” He muttered softly.

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Take a sleeping pill.” He suggested.

“Bite me.”

“I’m not arguing when you’re like this.”

“Like what?” I’m fine!” Dean’s voice was still mumbled but it held a tone of annoyance.

“You need to sleep!” Sam snapped back.

Dean turned his head to face Sam, his eyes were half closed but they still held an authorizing glare. “Well I’m not gonna get any with you yapping now am I?”

Sam huffed and swung his legs over the bed, and dropped onto his back to face the ceiling. The only thing stopping him storming out of the room dramatically was the knowledge that Jack was on the other side of the door.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was peeking over the horizon, making its last appearance for the day. With it, it had taken the light, and it had taken the peaceful babble of the daytime. Although the Winchester brothers could be partly responsible for that.

“God damn it Sam, get in the car!”

Sam and Dean stood on either side of the car,not taking their eyes offeach other. They had been standing in those positions for ten minutes. Both gripped the car stubbornly.

Bobby approached Dean warily. “Dean, keep it down.”

“Make him get in the car!” Dean’s anger twisted into a plea as he turned to Bobby for help, he didn’t understand it dammit!

Sam’s stomach turned with guilt, but what kept him from entering the Impala was the voice filling his ears, as his arm was placed stiffly on the roof of the vehicle. And he had stayed there frozen in fear since five minutes ago when he had warily touched the car.

Yeah Sam, get in. I dare you.

Jack stood in the background, leaning against Bobby’s car and glowering at Sam as he waited impatiently. Bobby then attempted to approach Sam.

“Look Sam, if you’re not going to tell us why then maybe you should just…” He eyed the car, silently analyzing to try and understand what was wrong with it.

Sam shook his head. “No.”

“God dammit!” Dean repeated for the3rd time, taking a few steps away from the car only to storm back again. “Look, is this about you getting pushed out of it earlier? Nothing like that’s going to happen again.” Dean reassured him, his voice growing more sympathetic. There was a brief silence as he watched Sam’s face, trying to find an answer.

“I…” But Sam couldn’t bring himself to lie. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything. All he could hear was the voice of the Impala, and keeping his hand off the car only made him imagine what it could be saying.

You’re a selfish. You know that, Sam? You need to be punished.

Sam lowered his head. “I don’t know what I’ve done.”

“What?” Dean’s irritation was rapidly turning to concern.

What you’ve done? You ruin everything! I hate you! Dean should hate you!

“Don’t…” Sam warned, clenching his teeth.

“Sam?”

I’ll make him hate you.

“Sam answer me!” All fury that had taken hold of Dean had gone. All he wanted now was for Sam to answer him.

If I run my wheels over your big head, do you think a load of crap will spill out your eyes and ears?

“Shut up!” Sam roared, letting go off the car he balled his fists as his rage echoed through the town. Branches on a tree nearby swayed furiously as the birds occupying it flew away from the suspected danger.

Dean’s eyes widened, and he backed away. He hadn’t wanted Sam to answer him like that.

Bobby stood still, his shoulders hunched from the intensity in Sam’s bellow. He was on his toes however; ready to step in if things got physical.

An awkward hush swept over the scene, Sam and Dean exchanged looks of disbelief. Sam saw the hurt in Dean’s eyes, and Sam reflected guilt and regret.

“Dean, I didn’t mean,” Sam gabbled, “I mean, I was talking to the…”

Dean’s face turned to stone. Without another word he wrenched open the car door, slipped in, and slammed it shut.

Sam stood rooted to the spot, unable to explain himself.

Somewhere in the neighborhood a dog barked.

“So these are the great Winchester brothers then.” Jack concluded the messy situation with the aggravating comment.

“Don’t.” Bobby growled at him. And he didn’t.

Sam turned to Bobby, he gave him an apologetic look.

“Bobby, I didn’t mean…”

“You really must have hit your head back there, son.” Bobby muttered. Sam stared at his feet, if he attempted to tell on the Impala now, there was no way anyone would believe him.

Bobby sighed. “You’ll take the ride to the Mayflower with me and Jack then.” It was a statement. Not a question.

The Impala’s engine roaring to life had Sam jump into action.

“Okay.” He said quickly, moving over to Bobby’s truck.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The journey had been in absolute silence, but Sam’s mind had been debating and arguing with every opinion he could muster up from his head. It was definitely decided, for sure this time.

He would tell Dean.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was a dark blue. Lights from the town shone bright, but meekly adorned the never ending stretch of the night sky.

Several car doors slammed shut at the beginning of a street, and at the other end of the road stood the town’s most famous feature, the Mayflower. It took up the entire corner, standing taller than the shops surrounding it.

The four hunters approached it, and stopped outside the double doors. The windows were bordered and outlined; they stood out like piercing eyes. Music and chatter from inside was softly emitting from the building.

Bobby turned to the other three. “Alright, let’s go.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inside the noise was excruciatingly loud. It was crowded, but this crowd wasn’t like the usual mesh of faceless nobodies. The bar was filled with all sorts of characters: The old, the young, the moody, the loud, and the colours! The goth-like young adults huddled in a corner presented their misery at the world with their white skin and blue and black hair, contrasting with the flirty aging drunks flaunting their happy-go-lucky personalities with bright blonde highlights, red clothes and flashing jewelry. From what Dean saw, everyone else between the two ends of the spectrum also seemed to be here.

“Man, you weren’t kidding about the crowds.” Dean commented to Jack.

Jack slowly turned his face to him, but he didn’t botheranswer as he stared at the elder Winchester.

Dean raised his eye brows, and turned away muttering, “Okay…”

Elbowing his way through the people, Dean made it to the counter of the bar. While he waited for assistance, Bobby stood by his side.

“What the hell’s gotten into Sam?” He muttered. The younger Winchester had gone to find seats with Jack.

“I have no idea.” Dean grumbled back.

“Dean, I heard him talking to himself earlier, calling himself a freak.”

Dean looked at Bobby, slightly alarmed. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, when you first got the car back.”

Dean turned back. “Well, he’s done stranger things.”

They stood silent for a minute.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“You remember what I said to you? A while ago? About Sam, and how maybe something’s wrong with him…”

Bobby shook his head. “Dean, you can’t think about this right now. We need to keep alert for anything supernatural.”

There was another minute of silence. The world around them continued to buzz, it was a care free environment next to the troubles of Dean Winchester.

“You still sure there’s nothing wrong with him?” He said.

Bobby didn’t answer.

A group of large men next to the hunters roared with laughter at joke, one of them stepped back into Dean, elbowing him.

“Hey, back off!” Dean exclaimed angrily, pushing the man back rather harshly.

The stranger’s amused face quickly turned to a scowl. “You back off!” He said, pushing him back.

Dean gave him another shove, this time the man stumbled back into his friends.

“Dean!” Bobby pulled him to the side and stepped between him and the other man before anymore harm could be done. A friend of the man did the same, and gently pulled him back.

“Don’t, Ian.”

Dean glared at Ian, who stared back with hard blue eyes, and his dark brown hair was slightly disarrayed from the scuffle. Most of the people in the bar were watching them, even the people on the opposite side of the room were craning their necks, hoping to see a fight. However both men simultaneously turned away from each other.

“I’m out of here, it’s getting too crowded.” Ian muttered, shouldering past anyone in his way and out of the door.

His friends all glowered suspiciously at Dean before turning back to their own business.

Dean rolled his eyes. “I didn’t make him leave!”

Bobby nudged Dean. “Snap out of it, Dean. You can’t just take your troubles out on other people.”

Dean was about to give him several reasons why he could when Jack and Sam appeared suddenly by his side.

“We need to go.” Jack said abruptly.

“Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure that if any demons here have seen that, either they’re going to go after you or that guy.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean, Bobby and Jack strode out the bar, all going separate ways to try and catch a glimpse of Ian.

“I don’t see him anywhere.”

Sam came jogging out the pub. “His friends say he drives a silver ford focus.”

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Man that’s an ugly car.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Well let’s get moving.” Jack said, turning around and walking to Bobby’s truck.

Bobby turned to Sam. “You go with your brother this time.”

Sam opened his mouth to argue but Bobby held up a hand.

“He can’t be on his own, not when he could be in danger.”

Sam looked at Bobby’s determined face, and then to Dean who was standing with his hands in his pockets, looking around as if trying to pretend he couldn’t hear to the conversation.

Sam hesitated, but realizing Dean could be in danger, he slowly nodded his head. Bobby breathed a sigh of relief, thankful there wasn’t to be another argument.

“Alright, you boys be careful.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Impala was so familiar to Sam; it had been in his life since before he could walk. But never had he felt so unfamiliar sitting in the passenger seat. Never before had he felt so uncertain and unsafe in the Impala. It hadn’t said anything to him yet, but that only worried him more. Perhaps the time for talking was over? Maybe the car was going to take action…

It wasn’t often that Sam got carsick, but right now he feared if he spoke he would hurl.

“Sam?”

Crap.

“Um. Y-yeah?” He said hoarsely.

Dean looked straight ahead, and asked in a casual manner, “Why are you scared?”

“I’m not.” Sam replied insistently.

“Then how come you’re holding onto the window like such a wuss?”

Sam paused. “Maybe because I’m clingy?”

Dean rolled his eyes, and glanced at Sam. “Yeah. You are. Seriously, though.”

“I’m fine.”

The roads were unusually quiet; all that could be heard was the engine of the Impala.

“Talk to me.”

Sam pressed his lips together, and stared hard at Dean.

Dean did a double take when he noticed Sam’s thoughtful gaze.

“What?”

Sam sat up, fidgeting in his chair. He took a deep breathe.

“Okay,” he started, “remember after we argued about that money earlier, and you went inside and I stayed outside for a bit?”

“Yeah.” Said Dean slowly.

“Well, something weird happened. And I’m not sure whether you’ll believe me or not.” He hesitated, but Dean didn’t say anything to interrupt. “God this is stupid.” Sam breathed, covering his eyes and feeling embarrassed.

“Just tell me, Sammy.” He heard Dean say softly.

“The Impala. It-“

Suddenly, the car lurched to the left, crossing into the other lane. The Winchester brothers shifted roughly in the car as the tires screamed, their eyes wide with shock.

“’The hell?” Dean exclaimed, looking into the rearview mirror.

Sam also turned around anxiously. “Nothing even hit us!”

Dean frowned, feeling on edge. “Well something must have caused that.”

“Yeah,” said Sam, “the car.”

Dean frowned again. “Whose car?”

“Our car.”

Dean bunched his shoulders defensively. “Sam, nothing’s wrong with the car!”

Sam sat sideways, facing Dean determinedly. “No, nothing’s wrong with the engine. Dean, I think the car’s possessed by something.”

Dean frowned. “What?”

“I could hear it talking to me! That’s why I was acting so weird earlier.” Sam explained hurriedly.

“I don’t know, Sam. Are you sure?” Disbelief was evident in Dean’s voice.

“Yes! You have to believe me! That’s why the car swerved too.”

At this point, the Impala decided to cut in rather moodily.

I love to break this to you Sasquatch, that wasn’t me.

Sam jolted with the surprise and volume of the voice. Inside the car it seemed to echo like the inside of a cave.

“What did you say?”

Dean glanced at Sam worriedly. “What?” He repeated.

Just now, moving the car. It was supernatural, but it wasn’t me.

Sam’s heart thudded against his ribcage. “Did you hear that, Dean?”

“Hear what?”

Sam grew exasperated. “The Impala!”

Dean’s belief in Sam’s story began to falter. His silence to Sam’s impatience confirmed this.

The car swerved again, Dean cursed trying to get it under control. This time the car picked up in speed, and began moving backwards.

Then again, maybe Dean did believe Sam.

Without warning, the Impala came to a halt without any braking. The stop was so sharp, the front wheels lifted slightly of the ground, and the Winchester brothers were thrown back and then forward again, causing Dean to ram his head harshly into the steering wheel of the car. They both groaned; Sam reached for the back of his head where his injury from earlier that day was, Dean moved his hands towards his face but making no effort to sit up.

My God you’re fugly.

Sam hit the side of the car angrily. “Not now!” He growled.

Oh, that hurt. The Impala replied sarcastically.

“Sam?” Dean mumbled, turning to face his brother, he hissed in pain and covered his face.

Sam leaned over to where his brother sat hunched over. “Dean, what’s wrong?”

Dean didn’t answer, just mumbled quietly, attempting to form swear words only they morphed together in his jumbled mouth, concluding with one long curse.

Sam nudged him, springing into action. “Dean, move over, you can’t drive like this.”

Dean swatted his hand away but Sam held on and began pulling him gently over to his seat. Reaching for the handle behind him, Sam opened the door and climbed out as Dean clumsily flopped into the passenger seat. As he closed the door, he felt a presence and turned to the side. Behind the Impala standing several feet away stood three people. It was hard to make them out in the dark but Sam assumed they had seen the car behaving madly.

“Er, sorry about that!” He called out to them. They didn’t reply. He continued, “My brother, he’s had one too many to drink but don’t worry! I’ll be driving the rest of the way home.”

The strangers all together stepped into the streetlight. Sam didn’t really take a good look at what they looked like, because after he noticed three pairs of black, beady demonic eyes staring at him he was sprinting round to the driving side of the Impala.

Sliding in and wrenching the door shut, Sam realized that they had been responsible for messing with the car. Slamming his foot down on the accelerator, he sped away as fast as possible. Looking in the rearview mirror he saw the demons just standing there, still under the yellow light. Staring after them. Even now after all the years of hunting it still sent chills down Sam’s spine.

I’m going to get you.

“Do you know them?” Sam asked, pretending not to be disturbed by the car’s echoing voice, glancing every now and then at Dean, who was hunched over leaning against the window, rubbing his head. He had been fairly quiet, which worried Sam.

Well I can’t recognize them in human skin, dumbass.

Sam gripped the steering wheel. “Do you know Lillith?”

I know of her.

Realizing he wasn’t going to get any reasonable answers, Sam reached into his pocket and took out his phone, jabbing in the numbers with the hand that was holding it, he dialed Bobby’s number.

“Bobby?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Sam. No need to worry about Ian, the demons have come after Dean.”

“You boys okay?”

“Uh, they messed around with us a bit but we got away. Dean hit his head on the wheel; I think he might be concussed.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few yards away from where Sam was driving, a bridge stood. Only it wasn’t quite ready to be used yet. Partly because there was a huge sign and some tape stopping cars from going that way… And partly because there was a gigantic leap in between the two ends of the bridge. Fortunately for one of the demons, who was currently knocking away the sign and tearing down the safety tap, the builders of this town had gone on strike.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Okay we’ll be looking for you. Where about are you?”

Sam looked at his surroundings. “I’m just coming up a bridge now. I’ll be around there.”

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

Sam flipped his phone shut just in time to see what was ahead, or rather what wasn’t.

His heart froze, and his foot heavily stepped on the wheel, his knuckles turned white from gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

The car slowed, but Sam hadn’t reacted fast enough. The front wheels began to tip over the edge, the right side of the lurched forward and the car tipped upwards slightly before finally ceasing movement.

Breathing heavily, Sam swiveled his eyes around him to try and take in the situation. Any sudden movement and the car could go down. At the angle the car was, his door was just next to the edge of the road before the huge drop. Sam then looked to the left and the other car door was over the end of the road and balancing out in the open air. It was a miracle the car hadn’t toppled over, but it was still dangerously unstable. Sam could probably make it, but on the side of the car that his brother was sitting, Dean could not.

“Sam…” Dean whispered.

Sam slowly turned his head towards his brother; his eyes were unfocused and he couldn’t seem to keep his head upright, but he still understood what was going on.

“Sammy, get out of the car.”

Taking in a shaky breath, he replied strongly, “No.”

Dean could have laughed. Not long ago they were having the same argument, only about entering the car. His head was spinning and everything in front of his vision seemed to be swaying in random directions, confusing him. The only thing that remained clear was the danger, everything else melded together into a rainbow of vague and moving scenery. He could barely concentrate, but he had to.

He had to make sure Sam was safe.

“I’m not asking. Get out before the Impala goes over.” Dean said steadily.

“Not without you.”

“Get out now!” Dean said fiercely.

“I’m not leaving you!” Sam cried.

The car creaked, silencing the brothers, echoing their fears.

Dean’s volume dropped. “Sam, I have less than half a year to go, it doesn’t matter.”

Sam however, remained determined. “It matters to me.”

Dean ignored the nausea swirling inside him, clawing up his throat. “Please.” He begged, his voice was cracked and weak. “Don’t do this to me, Sammy.”

Sam’s chest rose up and down heavily as he panted from the fears of falling off the bridge or losing his brother. But one look into Dean’s hard gaze, despite his head injury and disorientation, Sam knew he had to do what was right.

With extremely slow and careful movements, Sam reached out for the door handle. He leant away from Dean but could hear him breathe a sigh or relief.

The door opened, and the car creaked once again but louder this time.

“Careful.” Dean warned quietly.

Sam held his breath, held in his mounting fear as he moved one leg out of the car and onto the road. One slip and he would fall back into the car, forcing them off balance and into the uncertainties afterlife.

His foot reached the pavement, as he hooked the other one onto the road he was forced to use the car as leverage, it jerked violently and Sam stumbled forward and onto the safety of the unfinished bridge.

Sam was back on his feet in a second, staring at the car helplessly. His hands were out in front of him, willing the car to stay balanced, too afraid to touch the vehicle in case he made things worse.

He had been scared inside the car, but watching the Impala tilted so dangerously over the bridge with his brother inside absolutely terrified Sam. And there was nothing he could do. His breathing turned to gasps and he stood frozen as the fear from his heart gripped his entire body. Dean was going to die at this very moment before his eyes, and he couldn’t blame the deal, and he couldn’t blame the supernatural.

And just as he thought all hope was lost, a miracle happened.

The car was moving.

But not downwards, not towards the ground way below.

Back.

Onto the road.

Sam gazed in awe as the Impala slowly but steadily, reversed itself upwards, one wheel at a time bumping back onto the bridge. Sam backed away to make room for it, but as soon as the whole of the Impala was back on the bridge, Sam ran for the passenger door. As soon as his hand slapped onto the door handle, the voice swept over him like a wave.

That was so selfish, abandoning him like that. I didn’t leave him! I saved him.

“Thank you.” Sam whispered, his voice still shaking. The Impala was less than accepting.

I really can’t wait to kill you now.

Sam pulled open the door, and Dean shot out immediately and grabbed onto Sam’s shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Before Sam could answer, Dean’s knees buckled and he was falling to the ground, bringing his brother with him.

Backing away from the car, Sam slowed his brother’s fall. “Are you okay?” He echoed Dean’s question.

Dean stared at the ground, gulping. “What…what the hell?” He managed to say.

Sam shook his head. The brothers sat hunched over in the cold night, grasping onto each others arms from the fear still left over, breathing like a couple of marathon runners. But they were safe.




Or are they? DUN DUN DUUUN

:) Tee hee.

uh oh..
BAD car!!

gd update
xx

More!




As soon as Dean regained his breath, Sam was shot with a question.

"What did you do?"

He blinked. "I...I didn't do anything. The car moved on its own..." Sam tried to explain, but it seemed that Dean was not listening either because of his concussion, or because he didn't believe it.

Dean couldn't understand what Sam was trying to tell him. He shook his head, but learnt that this certainly did not clear his mind, it only sent it reeling. His concentration was spinning into the sky above him and into space.

He leant forward, groaning softly.

Sam shook him. “Dean, stay with me here.” He said urgently.

Dean could faintly hear Sam’s voice buzzing in his ears, but it was drowned out by the increasing volume of ringing. His vision blurred, he knew Sam needed him, but he couldn’t see where he was. He couldn’t see at all. The darkness had enveloped him.

Dean fell so far forward his forehead rested against Sam’s chest, Sam lifted his chin, shaking him again, calling his name repeatedly. But it was to no avail; Dean had passed out.

Sam carefully lowered him onto his side, too afraid to drag him inside the Impala. If it could role itself back onto bridges, no doubt it could speed away from Sam with Dean in tow.

He looked out into the distance for any sign of Bobby, what he was greeted with, however, was something far worse. The three people possessed by demons stood at the start of the bridge. There was an old man, who without the supernatural forces within him would walk with a cane, a blonde twenty-something girl, and a big man with dark brown hair. Ian. Clenching his teeth, Sam realised Dean had been set up by Ian. Somehow the demons must have known hunters were on the way.

They approached closer to Sam, stepping in time. Sam panicked, his weapons were in the angry Impala, there was nowhere to run and Dean was unconscious. This did not look good.

The roar of the family car caught both Sam and the demons’ attention. The headlights flashed like a holy light, and the tyres screamed as the Impala pounced forward. The demons stopped, and the Impala’s movement ceased just in front of them, a brake that would be impossible if it wasn’t for the supernatural controlling it. The Impala growled dangerously as the engine sounded, the demons backed away a few steps. The lights glowed brighter than Sam had ever seen, and the engine roared. The demons looked at one another as if deciding something, and then without a word turned around and ran away into the shadows of the night.

Sam stood up from his crouch and stared quietly at the Impala, which was turned away from him. The atmosphere held a tense silence, contrasting to the noise of the car just before.

The Impala reversed to the side, and then the wheels guided it until it was facing Sam, it sped towards him. Sam couldn’t run, he had nowhere to go. His heart dropped as his own car raced towards him, but as it neared him it seemed to slow down, and for a second Sam hoped it would perform another one of its miraculous brakes, but instead it knocked him down at about 15 mph before its headlights shut off and the engine died down.

On his back, staring at the night sky with the air currently knocked out of his lungs, Sam considered how bad the situation was. The demons were gone, the Impala hadn’t killed him, and Bobby was sure to be nearby. On the other hand, Dean was hurt, he was hurt, and Jack was sure to be nearby.

His body was numb from shock and unmoving from his exhaustion. His head injury was throbbing, and the nausea and dizziness returned. As he heard a vehicle’s engine, doors slam, and the familiar sound of Bobby’s voice, Sam closed his eyes, and wondered how bad tomorrow would be.


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News travelled fast as the sun rose bringing with it the early morning warmth. From neighbour to neighbour, husband to wife, shop owner to customer, the news of the Mayflower murders was the first thing on their lips next to what was necessary to discuss such as dinner plans or how much that carton of milk was going to cost. For today at least, the citizens could breathe a sigh of relief, and go out again tonight. Last night, no murder had been committed. The curse of the Mayflower was currently sleeping.

As were the Winchesters.

Bobby stood at the door to bedroom they had taken up. Both brothers were on their backs lying on top of the quilt, the curtains were drawn due to Dean’s sensitivity to the light. Sam’s shoulders were tense and his forehead was creased with pain and worry as he slept. Unlike normally, Dean was lying perfectly straight and still, and held a permanent frown to his face. Whenever Bobby had attempted to wake him up –every hour, for his head injury- Dean had only been awake for a few minutes, grumbling about the light and noise before falling back to sleep. If Bobby didn’t know any better, he looked like he was suffering from a hangover. Dean was hurt, but he would be okay. And so would Sam, they all would be.

Bobby sighed and ran a hand over his face at this impossible wish, his stubble scratching his fingers. It had been a long night.

When Bobby and Jack had first found them, a disorientated Sam didn’t offer an explanation; he only wanted to know if Dean would be alright. Dean was found unconscious. It had been a bit of a tangle getting them into his truck which he had to trust Jack to drive, and Bobby had ended up driving the Impala back to the house alone.

He came back to find Dean still unconscious and Jack arguing with a distressed Sam. Jack later told Bobby that Sam had freaked when he told him Bobby was driving the Impala. Apparently he went into a rave about how they were all in danger, but it hadn’t made much sense to Jack. Sam’s fear didn’t last long though; he passed out from his head injury soon after –without taking any pain killers.

Right on cue, the brothers groaned in unison, and Bobby was drawn away from his thoughts. Slowly, two pairs of confused eyes squinted open.

Bobby couldn’t help but laugh lightly at the peculiar sight. “I know you guys do a lot together, but that was just weird.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So you really don’t remember much past the bar visit?”

Dean shook his head, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry Bobby. Maybe Sammy can fill us both in?” He turned to his brother.

Sam was sitting on his bed with his legs drawn up to his chest, leaning against the wall behind it, opposite where Dean sat cross legged on the bed, along with Bobby who perched on the side. He looked up from his knees to find them staring expectantly at them.

“Huh?”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You okay over there?”

“Yeah, my head just hurts a lot.” Sam muttered.

“Join the club.”

Sam changed the subject. “Where do you remember up to exactly?”

Dean frowned. “Uh… just vague things in the car…We were arguing. Wait –no. We weren’t. But we were talking about… something…” He trailed off as he noticed Sam avoiding his gaze. “What?”

Sam looked at him. “Nothing.”

“You’re a crap liar. What were we talking about?”

Sam opened his mouth, but no sound came out. By now both Dean and Bobby were giving him looks of warning, his eyes flickered from both of them.

“The car, I…” He began.

“What, the argument before the Mayflower?”

Sam’s eyes widened slightly at the opportunity. He cast his eyes downwards. “Yeah, that.”

Bobby nodded, but Dean still glanced at Sam suspiciously. “Right.” He said slowly.

Sam went on to explain what happened last night, only it was an abridged version. Sam explained Dean hit his head when the three demons –one of them being Ian- moved the car. He explained going up to the unfinished bridge to get away from them. However he didn’t explain any of the unfortunate and supernatural events surrounding the Impala. He selfishly was grateful that memory loss was an effect of concussion.

“So do you think Ian was possessed when he got into that argument with me?” Dean wondered. He was leaning over the bed by now with his head in his hands, trying to block out the growing sunlight peeking through the short curtains.

Bobby admitted. “No idea, I don’t think we’ll ever know. According to the news there hasn’t been anymore deaths surrounding the Mayflower. That’s good enough for me.”

“That means either Ian’s still possessed, or he’s safe.” Sam concluded.

There was a brief pause, and Dean added, “Or they just haven’t found a body yet.”

Bobby clapped the hunched over Dean on the shoulder and stood up. “I’ll go wait for Jack to come back from the store and fill him in on what’s happening. You boys get dressed.”

The door snapped shut, and Dean steadily got to his feet and plodded over to his duffle. Sam watched his slow and sluggish movements, making no effort to move himself.

“You know concussions take a few days to fully heal at the least.”

“Thanks for that college-boy.” Dean said, unfazed.

Sam gave him a pensive look. “I’m serious.” He said, kneeling up on the bed. He immediately regretted the action when his stomach released a burst of pain, causing him to collapse back down, hissing from the unexpected spasm.

Dean looked up from the clothes he was picking out of his bag. “What’s the matter?”

Sam sat awkwardly on his bed where he had dropped back down, not wanting to move in case more waves of pain radiating from his abdomen would rise. “Nothing.” He insisted.

Dean cocked his head to one side. Head injuries usually caused dizziness. “Is it your head injury?”

Sam shook his head.

Dean raised his eyebrows, growing annoyed at Sam’s detachment. “Well then what is it?”

“Nothing!”

“Well that’s a load of crap.”

“Just leave it…”

“Why are you crouched over like that?”

“I…”

“Let me see your stomach.”

“What? No!” Sam backed further onto his bed to try and keep more distance between him and his brother.

“Sam...” Dean warned.

“It’s no big –ouch! What are you doing?” Sam slapped away Dean’s hands which had grabbed at his shirt, pulling it upwards. He pretended to be annoyed at the probing; really he was terrified at how Dean would react. Did he see those…?

“How the hell did you get those bruises?” Dean burst out.

Yeah. He saw.

Sam stared up at Dean with a pathetic expression, like a child being scolded by an adult. He said nothing. Dean gave him a thunderous look back, concealing his concern.

“Hello?”

From the Impala banging into him. It sounded so simple in his mind, but Sam knew if he were to give him a piece of the truth, he would be forced to spill the entire contents of memories he had of the previous night.

“Answer me. Sam!” Dean barked, he crouched down to meet Sam’s height from where he was sitting on the bed.

“When the demons were jostling us about in the car, okay?” Sam suddenly snapped sharply.

Recoiling, Dean took in the explanation. “What?”

“I stupidly undid my seatbelt to try and get a closer look at them; I just got banged about a bit that’s all.”

“Those bruises are the result of that, then?”

“Yeah…”

“Those bruises, which happen to only be on your stomach, only on a certain spot.”

“Yeah!”

Dean looked hard at Sam. The unspoken silence lingering between them screamed that neither believed what he was saying. Sam held his gaze strongly, indicating that he was sticking by this story. Dean’s look changed from disbelief to disappointment. However in a flash it returned to his indifferent face and voice.

“Alright. Fine.” He turned his back to the younger Winchester, grabbing his clothes that had been lying bunched up on the floor. “Fine.” He repeated.

But nothing was.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You okay Dean?”

The eldest Winchester was walking to the front door, his movement sluggish. Resisting the urge to close his eyes and crawl back to bed, he opened the door and held it open, turning to face Bobby.

“Something about Sam’s story doesn’t add up, I’m going out to the Impala.”

“What do you mean?” Bobby asked, confused.

He shook his head. “I don’t know yet.” He said honestly. He then walked out and shut the door behind him.

Bobby barely had time to scratch his nose before the front door opened again and slammed shut. Jack walked into the kitchen. Although he didn’t speak, and although his face remained expressionless Bobby knew he was angry from the way he stormed from room to room, the way he slammed down Bobby’s car keys and carelessly tossed the shopping bag onto the cabinet. He noticed Bobby sitting on a couch, watching him.

“I saw Dean. Is the other one awake?” Jack asked shortly.

“Yeah.” Bobby replied. He then went on to explain the unfortunate events of the night before that the Winchesters had retold. Jack simply nodded, then resumed to rush about. Bobby sighed, leaning his elbow on the arm rest.

“Jack…”

“What?” He snapped.

“They didn’t do anything wrong.” He said earnestly, then carried on when Jack didn’t reply. “All us hunters get injured, you’ve had it bad yourself.” Jack stood with his back to him. “It’s a rough job you know that. Besides they’ve had worse.”

“Exactly!” Jack said placing his hands on his hips, still not turning around. “You’d think the fact that they’re partners -no brothers- would stop that from happening.”

“That’s not going to make a difference to anything supernatural on their tails. And it’s not like they don’t worry about each other.” Bobby argued.

“So what? Worrying isn’t enough!” Jack’s voice slowly started to rise. “I hear all these stories about them, the crap they tackle practically every single day of their lives. Soon enough one of them is going to die!”

Bobby stood up at this comment, one of them was going to die, but it wasn’t Jack’s business to know that. “Look, just cool down will you, head injuries are serious but come on, they’re going to be fine!”

Jack whirled around. “For how much longer, huh? How much longer ‘till their luck runs out?”

Bobby didn’t know where this anger was rooted from, but he knew Jack had to have a good reason, the man rarely showed his emotions unless necessary. “Look,” he said quietly, “I asked you before I suggested this if you’d have a problem working with them. You said no.”

“How do you expect me to hunt with them when they can’t work together without almost getting killed?” Jack said, his voice filled with venom.

“Alright, I’ve had enough,” Bobby started angrily. Sam and Dean was the closest thing he had to a family, he wasn’t going to listen to man who didn’t even know anything about them vent carelessly any longer.

“You know I had a brother once!” Jack announced angrily, his forehead creased at the painful memories. “We didn’t always get on, we didn’t always see eye to eye but damn it we always kept each other safe!” Suddenly Jack looked a lot older, a lot wearier. His voice sounded strained, as if trying to hold back the raw emotion that was hiding under his tough skin. “And when I see those two together, it just…it just…”

He faltered as he noticed Sam standing at the end of the hallway, his eyes wide flickering from Jack to Bobby. For a minute all three stood there, Sam playing the part of the frightened child who had walked in on their parents arguing.

Jack’s growing rage had disappeared, and he wandered off in the next room muttering. “If you’re looking for Dean he’s outside.”

Sam nodded and stared at his feet. He had heard the raising voices, but had only walked into the room in time to hear Jack’s brief outburst. “Okay.” He stuttered.

Bobby gave Sam an apologetic look, Sam stared uncomfortably back, he hesitated before asking quietly, “Is that true?”

“He never mentioned it before.” Bobby shrugged.

“Oh.”

“Sam…”

“Yeah?”

“It’s not your fault.” He stated sympathetically.

Sam wrinkled his nose. “I-I know.” He replied, unsure of what he was supposed to be blaming himself for.

Bobby sensed his confusion. “The other day, I heard you shouting, calling yourself a freak after that argument with Dean.”

Sam shifted from one foot to the other, finding something else to look at besides Bobby. “Oh.” He said again, and then he looked at the doorway Jack had exited through. His thoughts shifted, and his face dropped as he contemplated. He had just been looking at himself in twenty or thirty years time.

“Am I really going to turn out like that?” Sam questioned quietly, speaking to himself more than Bobby.

Bobby noticed the droop in Sam’s shoulders, the sadness in his voice. “Like what, Sam?” He asked softly.

Sam’s eyebrows knitted. “If I can’t save Dean… I’m going to end up just like Jack. I’m just going to be another loner to the world, growing old and broken. And no one’s going to give a damn.”

“That’s not true.” Said Bobby, but he knew Sam wasn’t discrediting him, he had to be realistic himself; he didn’t know how much longer he’d have in the world. He would die long before Sam.

Sam sighed shakily as despair threatened to crush him. And then he thought of John Winchester. Sam didn’t even have to ask himself what his father would do; John would go down fighting until the end. He was stubborn, like his father. He wasn’t going to give up on Dean. He’d promised Dean not long ago that together they’d find a way.

But before they could do that, Sam knew they had to overcome the thing that had possessed the Impala, and he couldn’t do it alone.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean sat in the Impala’s driving seat, willing himself to remember last night’s events. There was something Sam wasn’t telling him, and if he wouldn’t tell him then his brilliant brain would have to figure it out- concussion or not.

He took a deep breath and shut his eyes. His fingers curled around the wheel and turned it around as if driving, his vision changed to the night before. A dark road, a hassling hunt, and a strange conversation…

He kept his eyes on the road ahead, it was illuminated by the car’s headlights.

His own voice echoed in his memories.

“Sam, nothing’s wrong with the car!”

His brother was sitting sideways in the car seat, and Dean glanced at Sam whose eyes locked with his, shining with determination in the black shadows of the car.

“No, nothing’s wrong with the engine. Dean, I think the car’s possessed by something.”

Dean’s eyes snapped open as he heard a familiar voice calling for him from outside the car. He shook his head at the blurry memory, he couldn’t have remembered right…

“Dean!”

Rolling his eyes, Dean rolled down the window.

“Yeah?”

“I think you should get out of the car.” It was posed as a suggestion but there was urgency marked in Sam’s voice.

“Why?”

“W-we need to talk.”

Dean held out his arms and shrugged. “Can’t we talk like this?”

“No.”

“Then why don’t you get in the car and we’ll talk?” Dean said casually.

Sam’s face changed. “No.” He repeated.

“Oh come on, it’s not like it’s possessed or anything…”

Sam’s face hardened, but Dean wasn’t sure if that confirmed the woozy memory or not; Sam usually got pissed when he messed about like this.

“Dude I really need to talk to you…” The rest of Sam’s words were cut off by the sound of the window winding up again.

“Then talk to me in the car.” Dean said just before it shut completely. Sam gave him a frustrated look, but he ignored it along with a twinge of guilt he was feeling. He wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to do, but if the Impala really was possessed surely Sam wouldn’t agree to talk inside it?

Sam sighed and he stormed round to the other side, pulled open the door and slid in, shutting the door with him. He sat rigidly for a couple of seconds.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief all too soon.

“Dean the car’s been possessed.” Sam snapped.

“Oh.”


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Sam stared at his knees, shifting uncomfortably in the car, the pills he had taken before getting changed had numbed the pain in the back of the head. Unfortunately it did nothing for his the sinking feeling of regret. He looked over at Dean who was sitting incredibly still, by the time Sam had finished his story Dean’s hands had a vice grip on the wheel. Sam dropped his head in shame.

“Dean, say something.” He said quietly.

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this sooner, Sam?” Dean growled.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “I thought I was imagining things.”

“Imagining things? In our line of work?” Dean scoffed. His eyes then darted around the car as if suddenly realising where it was. “What the hell are we doing in here?” He hurriedly pushed open the door –leaving it open- and stumbled out quickly onto the front lawn, only to turn around and find Sam still inside.

“Sam.” Dean said slowly, raising his eyebrows.

Sam gave him an apologetic look, and then put his hand on the roof. “I don’t know… The Impala, it hasn’t said anything to me yet.”

Dean looked at him as if he were mad. “What you think it’s going to give you a warning before it’s, ‘going to get you’?”

“It has before!” Sam argued.

Dean raked a hand through his hair, trying to keep calm. “Well maybe you better get out anyway rather than take the risk.” And he was failing terribly. “You know I didn’t bring you back from the dead just so you could lose your life again.”

Sam seemed appalled by the comment. “What are you going to do, bring that up every time I want to for the rest of my life?”

“No,” insisted Dean, “just for the rest of my life.”

Sam tore his gaze away from his brother, hurt. “Don’t say that.” He said so quietly, Dean had to take in a few steps to hear.

“Oh don’t be a girl, why shouldn’t I?” Dean dared bitterly. “Time’s running out Sam, and I don’t see any way around this!” All his despair and fear of what could happen pushed the words out of his mouth.

“You don’t have to remind me that!” Sam snapped.

“Well if you’re so sure you’ve got your priorities right, then listen to your older brother and get out of the damn car!” Dean yelled the last part, his determined glare unavoidable. Sam glared back half heartedly before finally exhaling loudly.

“Okay.”

He climbed over to the middle of the car when the Impala decided to break the bad news to him.

I’m going to get you.

The car door slammed shut and the engine hollered, Dean’s expression changed from pissed to panic. As the wheel screeched the vehicle moved forward with impressive speed, forcing Sam to fall back and slam into the back seat, knocking the wind out of him. The contents of the car sprang into a jitter freely, the evil concealed inside the Impala giving them life.

Dean watched in horror as his baby darted away from him with his little brother in tow, and for a fraction of a second a realisation danced across his mind: the unfortunate events of the night before would be no match for today.



You like? You hate? How is everyone doing? :)

I love it!!! Update soon!!!!
----Becky
:D

oh!!!


dont worrry sammy im coming to save you!!! :supes

Absolutely love this story but it's hard reading that the impala is trying to hurt Sam, it is the only stable thing in their life, it's their moving home. Maybe the three demons have something to do with this and Jack still sounds very creeepy, but I think Dean is now believing Sam but I hope it's not to late, am sooooo looking forward to more.

:o Oh jeez! Now the impala has Sam! At least Dean knows what's going on now. Hopefully he, Bobby and Jack can save Sam before the impala does something terrible. Can't wait for the next update.

Cindy.

Oh you got to be kiddin' me. How the hell is Sam going to get out of this one and will Dean be able to get to Sam by foot or by jacking a car? Sam wont - you know -
die or something right? That saying ' I'm going to get you ' ...Yeah, that a little bit freaky. Great updates though, I'm waiting paitently for more...Soon. Lol.

Thank you so much everyone for posting what you think! I'm really happy! :)

Here is the next part!

I tried really hard with this latest chapter, I hope you enjoy it!


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Over the years of his life hunting week in and week out, Dean Winchester was accustomed to the words déjà vu. He’d encountered ghost after ghost, grave after grave, and at some point down the line every hunt seemed to remind him of …well, every hunt.

Not that it ever got boring.

But to receive déjà vu now, running after his own car that was driving away from him with his pain in the ass little brother inside, well it was just ridiculous.

As he ran, his eyes focused on the car, but his mind drifted to today and yesterday, and all the clues he had missed.

“Okay, calm down. Do you know who did it? Do you know where he is?”

“…Car.”

At the time he had never thought the guy was answering the first question.

“God damn it Sam, get in the car!”

Dean could still see the fearful look in his brother’s eyes when he yelled. He just thought it was at his raised voice, not the actual command.

“I stupidly undid my seatbelt to try and get a closer look at them; I just got banged about a bit that’s all.”

“Those bruises are the result of that, then?”

“Yeah…”

Dean’s anger flared and he picked up in speed. Sam had lied to his face! A small part of Dean could go as far to say that Sam was to blame for the situation he was in at the moment, but none of that even mattered now. He was going to get his brother back safe and sound, even if he had to exorcise his baby, or do whatever to it to make it normal again.

He’d do anything, hell he’d give his life if he hadn’t given it up already.

He had gratefully accepted pain killers from Bobby, but bounding after a supernatural vehicle at such a speed caused his mind to swim, the vision to blur and his balance to falter.

Crashing into a tree in a neighbour’s front lawn, Dean halted harshly. His chest heaved, each breath coming in deep, bordering on hyperventilating. He lifted his head up just in time to see the Impala skid round the corner. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily.

“Sam…”


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The car jostled Sam about, so much that he couldn’t even sit up. The bruises on his stomach ached relentlessly, and his head injury was pounding so hard he could barely hear the engine. He was lying on his front on the backseat struggling to gain composure and get upright. Sam imagined his brothers gravely voice echoing in his mind over his throbbing head. Something like, ‘Sam, I hate to break this to you but you totally deserved that.’ Sam almost laughed; he could see his brother saying that, lightening the mood next time he would see him.

That was if he ever would see him again.

You never learn, do you?

“Please…” Said Sam.

Oh here we go.

“Please! Whatever you are, just stop this.” He pleaded. His placed his hand flat on the seat and began to lift himself, but the car bolted as if going over a bumpy ground -despite the fact it was on a smooth road- and Sam collapsed again. His body felt heavy as if an invisible force was pulling him down. He fought against it furiously, growling in frustration.

Hey stop moving about you’re making me nauseous.

“You can’t get away with this; people will see you without a driver.”

We’ll see about that.

Sam panicked as his vision began to dim, but as he craned his neck he realized that it was the windows that were darkening. “What are you doing?” He said, panicked.

Like a fancy limo, the windows are now opaque on the outside. No one can see you now.

“Oh God…” Sam whispered.

I’ve always wanted to be a limo… The Impala sighed wistfully, ignoring Sam.

Curling his hands, Sam used his fists to push himself up from the car seat and lunged forward slapping his hands on the car wheel, trying to steer it.

You little punk!

The car swerved suddenly, forcing Sam to lose his grip and swing into the side of the car. His ribs that were already fragile from the fall the other day caused an explosion of pain for Sam, and he ended up twisting in pain in sandwiched between the back seat and front seat of the Impala as it came to a sudden stop.

Well what do you know? I’ve stopped off in the alley where your brother first found me!

Sam breathed through his dizziness and frowned as he heard the trunk lift open. A few seconds passed by and the car door swung open, and he was immediately struggling up, trying to make a jump for it.

You think it’s that easy?

Just as Sam neared the open door, he was hit full on with a shovel, long curls of rope, a tire iron and various other objects from the trunk that weren’t guns or knives. The impact and the bulk of the items threw Sam violently back onto the seat and the door slammed shut again.

This was not good. The horror of the situation was starting to get to Sam, and he let out an angry scream in frustration. The shovel leaned back like a catapult, and then threw itself down onto Sam, who jerked from both shock and pain. He could only curl up and shield his head with both arms as the shovel continuously landed blows on him, hitting mainly his torso. His ribs screamed at the contact fiercely, and Sam gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tight, trying to bear the pain that came with each crash.

The shovel halted in mid air, and then dropped to the floor. Sam gasped with every breath, he felt as if his lungs were compressed. He tried to concentrate on breathing but he seemed to struggle, his chest faltering irregularly. His ribs hurt so much! With every heave a wave of pain swept Sam, his fear mounted it, crushing the hunter.

The Impala let out a low laugh as Sam coughed.

How does that feel, Sam? Painful? Your brothers not coming. Not this time. Does that make you frightened? Angry?

Sam narrowed his eyes, scanning the car aimlessly. “Shut…shut up.” He said weakly.

Dean won’t have a brother anymore. That’s okay though, because after I take care of you and the car, I’ll turn into something else that Dean can love.

Sam paused for thought; it was the first time since hearing this voice that it acknowledged itself as something other than the Impala.

“What are you?” He choked, his hand flew out onto the headrest, slowly pulling himself up. A sharp cry escaped his lips. Sam opened his mouth to recite an exorcism, trying to hold his head together. But what the car said next shocked him. It wasn’t something he’d ever heard a demon say.

Someone who will protect his brother no matter what.

Sam closed his eyes, the confusion only adding to the spinning of his brain. “What…do you…?” Sam couldn’t finish the sentence. His breathing was becoming worse, coming out in long gasps.

Someone who isn’t like you! The Impala concluded hatefully.

The vehicle was moving again, and Sam knew this was it. The heavy force in the Impala was weighing him down, but he continued to struggle despite the pounding in his ears and how heavy his limbs felt. He had to keep on fighting, and not just for himself.


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“…Just hurry up, we’ve got to find them!” Dean said stiffly down the phone, jogging through the streets.

“We’re on our way into town now. Dean you should have waited for us before running off like that. Look, why don’t you let us come and get you-”

“No Bobby!” Dean shouted, a woman with her young daughter jumped as she walked past him and gave him a heated look, pulling her child closer to her. Any other time Dean would have apologized but this time he completely ignored it, scanning the streets for his car. “Find Sam first!” He shut off his phone and continued to bounce from street to street, ignoring the stares.


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A coil of rope snaked over Sam, and when he tried to beat it off it began to crawl up and around his arms, yanking them together. They were bound tightly, and Sam’s fingers began to feel numb. As Sam weakly scrambled about, the rope roughly wound itself around his shoulders, pulling them towards him. The confinement was too much for Sam, and he screamed in frustration, kicking outwards desperately as the rope made its way to his feet.


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Dean kicked outwards at a trash can, becoming desperate. His fisted hands were shaking at his sides; all he could think about was how much Sam needed him now and how he couldn’t help.

Just as he was on the brink of giving up, a familiar sound met his ears. Followed by the growling engine, the Impala zoomed around the corner and past Dean. He swore and broke into a run; adrenaline smothering the effects of his concussion.

As if the Impala noticed Dean, it began to pick up in speed, and Dean knew he could not chase it on foot. He tore his eyes away from the prize for a few seconds to see a bicycle leaning against a post outside a small convenience store. Ignoring all protests from his dignity, he grabbed it as he sprinted by, running with it at his side, and he dared to hop onto it. After a couple of fearful seconds of unsteady handling, Dean was riding a bike.


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Rope was spread over Sam, and clouded with pain and despair. By now the Impala’s windows had cleared. Sam could see why.

“Y-you’ve driven out of town!” He managed to say.

No shit, Sherlock.

“What are you planning to do to me?” Sam asked, pausing for breath between every couple of words.

I’m going to drive. Only five miles left, Sam. Man I hope those fuel tanks are big.

Sam froze. The Impala was going to end this where it had all started: the gas station.

“You’re… you’re going to…!”

If I can make the windows darker, to spontaneously combust shouldn’t be a problem, eh Sammy? Hope no one else is around…Oh well!

The voice had become eerily calm, its taunting voice no longer being sarcastic. A surge of fear struck through Sam’s chest. It really intended to blow him up.

Sam released a low shriek, pulling against his bonds, but his thin breathing had left him with little energy. The shovel reappeared above him, crashing down on his side. Unable to defend himself the strike released a huge tremor or pain erupting over his ribs. He shouted, cursing, pleading with the Impala, his voice sounded weak in his own ears. It couldn’t end like this, it just couldn’t. Another piece of rope forced itself between his teeth. The speed of the car soared and the engine’s growl evolved into a roar.

Dean chased the Impala from a while away, panting with every peddle, his determination fueling his rapid movements. He ignored the fact that he had disappeared out of town, he ignored the fact that his phone in his pocket was buzzing in his jacket pocket. All he saw was the car. Reaching for his gun was difficult; the bike swerved with only one hand on the handle, but Dean remained balanced. He held it tightly out in front of him, aiming for the wheels.

The Impala eagerly darted along the road, nearing the gas station. Inside its manic laughter echoed, bouncing off the roof and windows, piercing in Sam’s ears. The rope in his mouth was rough and made him gag, the rest of the ropes pulled on his skin tightly. He felt compressed; the walls of the car were closing in on him.

Dean’s heart skipped a beat as he considered why his car had left the town, and was heading straight to the gas station. One huge crash, a bit of a fire and that place would go up in flames. Sammy and all.

“Son of a…” He clicked the gun, and the bullet hit the ground by the Impala, it was moving way too fast.

It’s so unfair. It’s so unfair! The voice was terrifying and mutated, the volume ringing in Sam’s ears, stabbing the message into his brain.

His vision was going haywire; bright dots swarmed everywhere Sam looked.

The Impala roared with laughter. It was triumphant, but no happiness was hanging in its voice.

Dean shot again, this time the bullet ricocheted off the hood. He swore angrily, his hand holding the trigger shook with the speed he was going at.

Nearing the gas station, the Impala hollered loudly.

Bye bye, Sammy!

Sam’s hearing was blurred as if he were underwater, he could barely breathe. He tasted blood.

A bullet flew out of the gun and dived into the back tire of the car, which swerved furiously. Dean shot again but missed due to the fast swinging of the car. The bullet instead pierced the window and shot straight out the other side, and the car slowed considerably as if mortally wounded. It unsteadily speeded into the gas station.

“No!” Dean pulled the trigger once more and the bullet landed in another wheel of the car. It skidded, the tires screeching and then violently zigzagged into a nearby tree.




...THE END

(I am totally kidding bout that)

lol...Dean riding a bike =3





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Dean rode the bicycle shakily over to the tree, and then jumped off it as soon as it slowed enough, letting it limp away and fall flat on its side. Running over to the car, he assessed the damage with the flicker of an eye. Smoke was spilling out of the front of the car, and the hood was slightly creased around the middle where it had hit the tree head on. Without a second thought Dean slapped his hand on the handle of the backseat car door and wrenched it open, grunting with the force.

“Sam.” He breathed. His brother was covered with rope, lying face down half off the backseat squirming in pain. Part of Dean felt relieved; pain meant life. The other part was horrified.

“Sam,” he said urgently, “can you move?”

Sam replied with a muffled groan, he shook his head slowly but Dean wasn’t sure whether he was answering the question or was struggling to move his head to face him. Dean kneeled down and touched Sam’s shoulders cautiously and he felt him froze.

“It’s alright, it’s me.” Dean patted him reassuringly, trying to remain calm himself.

Dean felt on edge this close to the car after seeing what it could do, he didn’t want the Impala to suddenly drive off again with his brother inside.

“Come on, we gotta get you out.” He said both quietly and firmly. Winding his hands around the rope around his shoulders, Dean pulled gently. Only then did Sam seem to be aware of what was going on, and he twisted slowly and moved with Dean as much as the binds would let him. When he was halfway out of the car he took in a breath sharp, grunting in pain as he turned onto his back.

“I got you.” Dean assured him, holding his arms around his chest. Sam fell out the car, kicking away from the open door with his bound feet, trying to get away from it as much as possible. As soon Dean lowered him gently on the ground he pulled the rope away from Sam’s mouth and held his hands on either side of his face.

“Are you okay? Are you okay?” He asked shakily, looking into Sam’s disoriented eyes for a response.

Sam seemed confused by Dean’s presence, trying to shift his head away from Dean’s grasp. And then he wrinkled his nose as if only just realizing something. He opened his mouth wide as he struggled to breathe in deeply and only then did Dean realize how difficult it was for him. He stared at him, concerned and waiting for a reply. Gasping, Sam quietly spoke.

“I,” he said, “I think my teeth are bleeding.” Sam then looked up at Dean with a worried look.

Dean raised his eyebrows then shook his head, sighing. Sam had just been kidnapped by a car, crashed into a tree, and now wasn’t breathing properly –and he was upset about his gums?

“Where else does it hurt?” He asked.

Sam closed his eyes, visibly shaking as he exhaled. “Uh, everywhere.” He choked out.

Dean’s teeth overlapped his bottom lip, looking at the rope around his brother. He longed to tear them away, but he didn’t want to aggravate Sam’s injuries. His eyes made there way back to Sam and he noticed his closing eyes. He shook Sam’s head, still clasping onto it. “Don’t go to sleep.”

“Okay.” Sam wheezed softly, making no effort to open his eyes.

“Sam!” Dean barked.

Sam replied with a chesty cough, his back arced with the pain that came with it, suddenly writhing. He cried out gruffly.

Dean swore softly before jumping at the feel of his phone buzzing. He had been so focused on Sam he only just realized that the little mobile had been screeching at him impatiently all this time.

The sound came as a blur to Sam. He still struggled for air with every breath; it scared him. His ribs felt so weak and like an elephant was standing on them, he couldn’t move which scared him further and he still wasn’t sure of what exactly had just happened. But Dean was here, and nothing helped the situation more than that. The pain was hard to bear, he was so dizzy his vision was smudged, he felt as if he were lost in fog, with only Dean’s voice to keep him hopeful. He felt a hand firmly on his shoulder and the muffled sound of a ring tone cut off.

“Bobby? Yeah. Yeah I found him…he’s not in good shape.”

But Dean’s voice was loud and clear.


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Bobby was used to the boys getting in trouble. If Sam and Dean had a dollar for every time they got hurt…When Bobby and Jack drove out of town to the lone tree just by that nearly deserted gas station, he did what any hunter would do and prepared himself. After all, he had seen Sam dead. As long as they found him alive, Bobby believed he could handle anything that happened to Sam.

It wasn’t until he felt Dean’s fear radiate from the phone call, his voice sounding shaken. It wasn’t until Dean admitted too afraid to drive his own car back to the house that Bobby realized just how different this was. The Impala –something so ordinary to both the Winchesters, something they never thought twice about when entering it, was now supernatural. Something they would usually hunt.

Bobby jumped out the car without waiting for Jack and ran over to where he saw the Impala. “Dean!” Bobby called, finding him behind the other side of the car. Dean was crouched over Sam who lay on his side, panting. Long shards of rope covered the grass beneath them.

Dean’s head snapped up at the call, and seemed to relax a little when he recognized Bobby’s worried face. “I think I just got déjà vu.” He said.

“Are you okay?”

Dean didn’t answer him, and turned his head back to Sam. He shook him gently and Sam’s eyes blinked open, squinting at the night.

“Can you move?”

“I don’t know.” Sam mumbled. He noticed Bobby and he nodded at him. He went to the opposite side of Dean and they both helped Sam slowly sit up. He sucked in breathe through his clenched teeth, squeezing his eyes shut in pain.

“His ribs are hurt.” Dean explained to Bobby.

“How bad?”

“Well they were already sore from yesterday; they could be cracked of broken now.” Dean’s voice held the same stiff and low tone, hiding the fear beneath.

Jack appeared. He sighed at the sight of Sam, and then said, “What’s going to happen to the car?”

“Forget about the damn car!” Dean suddenly snapped.

“Maybe someone should have said that to you at the start of all this.” Jack retorted.

Dean’s eyes were pools of fury. He stared fiercely at Jack. “You think this is my fault?”

Jack held his gaze, contrasting with a cold, bitter stare. “If I were in the same situation I would have done more to help.”

“Well you’re not!” Dean raised his voice dangerously. “You think you understand? You don’t know a thing!” He spat.

“Okay,” interrupted Bobby as softly as possible, “let’s calm down.” He faced Sam. “Sam we’re going to take this slow, okay?”

Sam nodded. Then the headlights of the Impala blinked, and his short lived reassurance turned to a pit of despair in his stomach. The engine groaned as the lights flickered on and off.

“Watch out!” Dean warned Bobby, throwing an arm over Sam and fumbling for his gun.

The car reversed slowly, and turned to face Jack. It froze, and the headlights still flashing. The engine quivered. Jack stood with his feet rooted to the floor, his face hard but his hunched shoulders revealed his fear. Dean watched intently as the car seemed to stare at Jack. Then without warning, with ramming speed it drove towards him, Jack dove out of the way just in time, and the Impala whizzed away seemingly without care. It headed straight back to the town.

Bobby stared in disbelief and then turned to Dean.

Dean gave him a questioning look. “Don’t look at me! I don’t know a damn thing about what’s going on.”

Sam couldn’t contain the pain any longer, and it erupted in a loud groan. He cut it short and hung his head and closed his eyes again, trying to concentrate on something besides the hammering waves of pain.

Dean squeezed his shoulder gently. “We’ll talk about it later. Come on.”


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An hour later, Sam was on his bed knocked out from pain killers, a large gauze was strapped to the back of his head and his ribs bandaged. Dean sat on the edge of Sam’s bed with his arms folded, looking at the ground in thought.

“’You think he’ll be alright?” He asked Bobby without looking up.

Bobby drew in a chair and sat on it, sighing deeply before replying. “Depends. With broken ribs he won’t be much help with the hunt. And even without them it would be dangerous for him to leave with the Impala waiting for him.”

Dean twitched at the surreal sentence. “Well what do we do? Carry on with the original hunt or go find the Impala?”

Bobby scratched his nose, leaning forward. After a moment he said, “I think maybe we go for the Impala. If it hurts anyone… I don’t know bout you but I’d feel a bit responsible.”

Dean shook his head. “It didn’t seem to want to hurt anyone else though. When I was following it, it was moving fast through loads of streets but it didn’t even try to run anyone down. You saw it yourself it didn’t care that it didn’t hit Jack and he’s a hunter!”

“I suppose. What do you think Jack?” Both men turned their heads to the corner of the room, where Jack stood leaning against the wall. He had been even quieter than usual.

Jack slowly craned his head, not speaking for a minute. “I think… I think we should go to the Mayflower at night, and look for the Impala in the day.”

Bobby seemed unsure. “I don’t know, that’s a hell of a lot of hunting, and we’re now one man down.” He nodded to Sam who slept on unaware.

Dean stood suddenly. “Well all the better to start now. The sooner we find it, the sooner I can get the car back.”

“I’ll join you.” Jack said suddenly.

Dean paused, a little surprised. “Okay then. Bobby, we’ll need to take your car.”

Bobby sighed. “Maybe you’re right about getting it back as soon as possible…”

Dean traveled a lot. So much that there were car rides with Sam that were held in silence. But this silence was …awkward. And weird. Jack was weird. Dean didn’t like Bobby’s car and he didn’t like Jack. He wanted things to go back to normal; he wanted to sit in his own car with his brother and have a comfortable silence hovering over them. At least while he could.

“I shouldn’t have said those things.” Jack said carefully in a monotone voice.

Dean kept his eyes on the road, understanding what he meant. “No problem.” He said quickly, coughing a little. Suddenly the silence seemed a lot less awkward.

“And… what you said, about me not understanding… I don’t think that’s true.”

“Oh, well I do.” Dean said just as quickly, just as casually. Just leave it. His mind was screaming at the man.

Jack faced him. “You don’t understand either.”

“Well I don’t want to.” He snapped.

A seconds of silence, but the atmosphere had changed in the car.

“My brother,” Jack said slowly, “was killed on a hunt when I was nineteen.”

Dean kept his eyes ahead but Jack had seen the change in his face. Dean rubbed his nose and slapped it back on the steering wheel, pretending not to be bothered. In his mind, the one big question mark over Jack had finally been answered, but a whole bunch of little ones had appeared. And Dean couldn’t help himself.

“Were you the older or younger brother?”

“Older.”

“Did you hunt with him at all?”

“Every single hunt...including the one when he died. I was there.”

Dean closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. Damn.

“We were barely adults when we found out about the supernatural.” Jack went on, his voice held the same emotionless tone, but it was a lot softer. “We didn’t know what we were doing on our first hunts; the only thing keeping us alive was luck and each other. I was always there to look out for him, and then one day I just… wasn’t.”

Dean slowed the car in front of a traffic light. He turned to Jack, their eyes met.

“Now do you understand?” He whispered, a familiar sadness reflected in his eyes. “We’re not so different, Dean.”

“No?” Dean said softly.

“I’m you or Sam, without the other.”


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All will be revealed about the mysterious Impala in the next few chapters!

...Unfortunately, due to commitments to school exams and extra curricular activities, they probably won't be available for a while <_< Not that many of you will be particularly bothered tee hee :P

Oh Sam *Gasp* He's broken...Literaly. Bless him. So now Dean see's eye to eye with Jack, Good. Lol. Great chapter, can't wait to see what happens to the Impala. :)

:o Holy hell in a hand basket!!! That was frickin' intense! Poor Sam. I'd be surprised if he ever wants to get back in the impala after that. They need to find that car and figure out what's going on before it tries to finish what it started. Can't wait for the next update.

Cindy.

Amazing....love it!!!! Poor Sammy, but at least Dean stop anything from happening!! But, now Sam has the impala after him...just waiting for him to come out!!! Can't wait for an update!!! Back to studying for finals!!!
-----Becky
:D

Poor Poor Sam needs a lot of TLC
its ood im here to give that to him :D
xxxxxxxxxxx

Thank you so much for posting what you all think :) I'm so happy!

Sorry for the late update:

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Dean’s stomach felt like a bottomless pit, and his heavy heart was falling through it. The sadness and realization seemed to wilt his posture. He was looking at Jack silently, his eyes full of empathy. He was looking at an aged hunter, feeling his pain. He was looking at Sam in twenty years time.

It was an unbearable sight, so much it made Dean want to cry.

“You shouldn’t have told me this.” He said stiffly.

Jack shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “I’ve realized it’s the only way for you and your brother to understand you’re not always going to be there for each other. I…” Jack looked down, the memories tearing at his composure. “I was a good brother.” He stated, staring at Dean, who looked back sympathetically. “And I couldn’t protect him, even though I was stronger, and older. Even though it was my job. He died, and there was nothing I could do.”

Dean took a deep breathe. “I…I don’t think it would help if I said it wasn’t your fault…I know it wouldn’t help me.”

Jack nodded, looking out the window and trying to contain lid on the emotions he’d bottled up for so long. “And that’s why I need to see brothers like you prepared for the worst. That or you do whatever it takes to keep each other safe.”

The light turned green, and the car accelerated forward. “We do the best we can, Jack.” He said honestly. Dean and Sam had let each other down less than they had been there for each other, but there had always been prices to pay for them. Like the deal. It wasn’t just a threat to Dean’s living, but a constant reminder of how Sam had died in his arms.

Jack sighed, “Yeah…I’ve been thinking, maybe you’re right about that. That’s why I wanted to apologize. But sooner or later …one of you is going to end up dead. And the other will be left alone, facing hunts alone.”

Part of Dean wanted to shout at him, yell and beep the horn angrily, insisting he was wrong. But really Jack didn’t know how right he had been, he didn’t have a clue about the deal, but Jack had just summed up exactly what Sam and Dean had been going through this year.


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Sam was in and out of it for the rest of the day, when he first came to Bobby had been worried by his deliria, but by the third time he woke him up he just seemed sleepy. There was no other progress with his ribs though, they were in a bad shape and Sam was finding it difficult to move around even with the strongest pain killers Bobby could find.

Dean and Jack came back late afternoon as the sun was setting along with any hope Bobby had been holding. The Impala had not been found.

“Hey Sammy.” Dean said quietly, sitting down slowly onto the bed occupied by Sam. The springs creaked awkwardly. Sam’s eyes fluttered open. He shifted to face his brother.

“Hey, what’s going on?” His voice was hoarse from sleep.

“Nothing much. Look, er, me and the guys were talking about tonight. We thought we better go to the Mayflower.”

“Probably.”

Dean cleared his throat, trying to keep casual. “Well how do you feel about that? Would you be okay with being left alone? …Because if I need to stay then I’ll just stay it’s no big deal-”

“No” Sam whispered. His voice was quiet but his feelings were clear. “You should go.”

Dean sighed. “Yeah I figured you’d say that. Bobby’s offered to stay behind for like, the first hour and if we need backup we’ll call. He knows the most about your injuries and he can check for any signs of the Impala outside.”

“Shouldn’t bother. Not like the Impala can walk into the house… No he’ll walk over everywhere. Drive.” Sam grumbled, blinking slowly.

Dean couldn’t contain a soft laugh at Sam’s confusing speech.

“Hey,” he said half seriously, “how many fingers am I holding up?”

Sam stared at Dean’s splayed fingers and shut his eyes leaning his head further into the pillow. “Mmm…fifty…six.”

Dean grinned, chortling to himself. Then he remembered something.

“Hey Sam don’t go to sleep just yet.”

“Hm?”

“You know Jack? Well, I just figured today that maybe we should be a bit nicer to him. He’s a good hunter, and a good guy.” Dean’s sincerity caught Sam’s attention.

He said slowly, his words barely audible. “Me too… I wish… his brother was still with him.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Come again?”

Sam didn’t reply.

“Sam how do you know that?”

His brother’s deep and even breathing told him he was already fast asleep.


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The Mayflower was just as crowded as the night before. If not, more. It was getting quite late and the crowds were getting rowdy. Anyone who worked there seemed to be joining in with the noise and fun. As usual, it was impossible to tell who was a demon and who wasn’t. Being in there reminded Dean of the heavy rock concerts he’d snuck into when he was a teen. Standing shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of strangers, the energy of the entire room coming together to greet the live music coming from the stage. In the Mayflower’s case, the stage was a little karaoke corner. And the music wasn’t what Dean would call live. Currently a young and rather drunk man was stumbling about murdering the song ‘Nine to five’. It echoed through the microphone and pierced Dean’s ear, making him shoot a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look at Jack. Jack didn’t seem to understand Dean’s annoyance and simply stared back neutrally as he always did. Dean mentally sighed, missing Sam. Somewhere in the background glass smashed.

And then a thought struck Dean hard. Fumbling into his coat pocket he fished out a small notebook covered in his messy handwriting. It was entirely written in Latin.

He knew what this meant, and felt a pang of guilt as he turned to Jack.

“You better call Bobby, this could get messy.”


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Dean could not believe he was about to do this. It wasn’t like he was glad Sam was hurt, but he sure was thankful his brother wasn’t here right now, he’d never hear the end of it. He nodded to Bobby and Jack, and they both slipped out the door. They knew they had to be quick to spray the symbols outside all entrances; the song would only last about two and a half minutes.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this sober. Grabbing a beer bottle, Dean began to shout and push through the crowds, tripping up to the karaoke stage. People cheered as he reached for the microphone.

“Here’s something for the,” he hiccupped. “ladies!”

The music started and Dean held the notebook by his side. The lyrics to ‘Do ya think I’m sexy’ appeared on a screen to his side but Dean was looking at the book for the words. Pretending to stumble about was easier than he anticipated; his mind was still dizzy from the concussion, but that made it harder to read his own small handwriting. Dean bellowed the Latin through the microphone, singing along to the tune of the music of Rod Stewart. Most of the crowd didn’t seem too phased by the strange language –they all assumed Dean was too drunk to actually form words. But even as Dean cast an eye over the crowd he noticed the ones who began to quiver. He carried on singing, glad he was in a corner surrounded by huge clusters of disorderly people. Along with the painful Latin in their ears it would be impossible for the demons to get to him. And that only left them one choice. Roughly eight people dashed to the door, falling on their knees and dragging others back on their way. The giant doors swung open, and although he couldn’t see, Dean knew they had just run directly into a painted devil’s trap. He trusted Bobby. And after the conversation today, he trusted Jack. More or less.

“Hey! Keep them doors open, I want the whole world to hear!” Dean yelled enthusiastically into the microphone. More people cheered and Dean carried on with the exorcism and at the same time trying to keep in tune with the song he was imitating. Of all the songs... he was no Rod Stewart! Whoever the hell he was Dean had no idea. Any noise the demons were making inside the devil’s trap was drowned out by Dean’s Latin singing echoing from the giant speakers and the roaring customers.

The exorcism finished and Dean pocketed the handbook, dropping the microphone he raced out the door. His eyes were drawn to the semi-conscious people in a heap over the ground; underneath the piles of limps Dean could clearly see the painted symbols for a devil’s trap. He looked up at Jack and Bobby who were still holding the spray paint bottles.

“Okay,” Dean said breathlessly. “I guess that’s that.” Dean regretted the events at that police station –which seemed like a long time ago compared to these past few days- but without the experience from that, Dean knew it would have been difficult to get any ideas on how to solve this hunt. And by solve he meant kill as many evil son of a bitches as possible.

Jack nodded.

Bobby pulled a face. “How did you know the tune to that song?”

Dean coughed awkwardly. Then he said with mock confusion, “What song?”

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “You know what song.”

Dean shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. I don’t know have a clue what you’re talking about unless you say the exact title of the song. Do ya think I'm what, Bobby?”

Bobby laughed. “I don’t think so.”

Dean joined in with the laughter. Even Jack broke a small smile. Or a grimace. The three hunters began to walk to Bobby’s truck. “Come on, let’s get out of here before any of those people start to wake u-”

They all froze as they saw the headlights of a car peeking out behind an alley. They were insanely bright, directed at all of them. Dean swore under his breathe as that familiar engine sounded.

The tires screeched and the Impala appeared, heading towards them. Any damage Dean had seen earlier on it had disappeared. It came to a halt beside them, not touching the curb. Exchanging glances with a serious looking Bobby, Dean took a cautious step forward. Working up the courage, he lightly touched the window.

Hey hey.

“Jesus!” Dean exclaimed through gritted teeth, bringing his hand a way as if stung.

Jack stepped towards him. “What’s wrong?”

Dean shook his head and rolled up his sleeves. He slapped his palm flat against the Impala door.

Well there’s no need to be rude.

Dean eyed the car unsteadily. The voice was deep and loud, but not particularly malicious sounding. Although he was sure it would have been a different case for Sam.

“Can you really blame me after what you did today?”

I’m sorry. I’m trying to make it up to you now, you see.

“Oh yeah, how?”

“What?” Said Bobby.

“What’s it saying?” Added Jack.

Dean felt frustrated, he wasn’t too sure what was going on himself. He didn't reply.

It’s about Sam. It’s not like I’m a fan of him but you seem pretty fond of him. So I thought I’d let you know.

“Yeah?” Dean said impatiently.

It seems you got rid of all the demons in there…except for one He left early to take care of your brother.

“You’re lying!” Dean barked.

What’s the guy’s name? Something lame. George?

Dean’s chest tightened. “Ian?” He whispered.

That’s the one. Nice guy. I’m pretty sure he cut the breaks in your friend’s car to make sure you wouldn’t be interrupting his plans.

“Dean what is it?” Bobby nudged him, concerned by how quickly the colour drained from Dean’s face.

Dean looked at him, his eyes wide with fear. “Sam’s in danger. We can’t use your car; we can’t get there in time.”

Bobby reflected Dean’s fear. “He can’t be telling the truth.”

“What do we do?” Dean said helplessly, turning to Jack who could only stare back apologetically. He knew that fear all too well.

Well before you go running off I have an idea.

“What?” Dean snapped, growing annoyed by the car’s casualness.

Hop in.

“Hell no!”

I’ll let you drive, I swear. Understand this Dean, I wanted to come here. To earth. I was prepared to do anything. If I take you to Sam, in return you must hear me out.

The Impala almost sounded civil, but Dean was still wary of a trap. “I don’t think I want to hear what you’ve got to say.” God was he really arguing with his own car? This was ridiculous. And scary. How long did he have to get to Sam?

I promise I’m trying to help. Nothing funny. I swear on my brother’s life. Not that I value his life. In fact I hope he dies a thousand painful deaths.

Dean recoiled and frowned. “And who might your brother be?”

He’s standing to your left.

Dean’s body froze all for his head, which slowly turned to Jack.

“What is it? What did he say?” He asked, noticing the completely different look in Dean’s face. It no longer held fear, but shock was now there, a long with a determined gaze.

Without another word, Dean’s hand found the handle and he slipped into the car, shutting it with a low slam.

“Dean!” Bobby yelled.

Dean ignored him and instead looked straight ahead, grabbing the wheel.

The Impala and Dean sped away and round the corner.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sam. Wake up, Sam.” Ian coaxed, shaking the sleeping man’s shoulder.

Sam’s eyes blinked open. He didn’t recognize this guy, but his mind couldn’t quite bring the adrenaline to combat with this new danger.

“How’s those sleeping pills working then?” Ian smiled, but his eyes held no happiness.

Sam’s chest rose deeply. “Bobby.” He called weakly, and ended in a cough.

Ian put a hand over Sam’s chest. “Shh. It’s just us here now. You don’t need to worry about Bobby, or Dean or anyone else. You just worry about you…” He said the words in a concerned fashion, but both Sam and Ian knew what he really meant.

Sam’s weakness overcame him, and his eyes closed shut again. His head lolled to the side.


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The engine buzzed as the wheels zoomed across the dark roads, moonlight glittering on the shiny street lamps. Dean’s eyes held a hard gaze ahead, breathing in and out deeply through his nose. The headlights sprayed on the road dying the gravel platinum white, standing out against the sheet of night.

They jumped straight into conversation.

“What the hell are you?”

Not your car, that’s for sure, although it was fun to pretend to be. The deep voice replied honestly.

Dean twitched at the voice, still not used to the volume ringing in his head.

“What do you want?”

I was brought here for a purpose, Dean.

“Who are you?”

My name’s not important, but I’m known as the Demon’s Impala. The most useful and evil transport they’ll ever get, and the fact that I possessed a hunter’s car was the icing on the cake.

A low chuckle emitted from the walls, aggravating Dean.

“Look, just start from the beginning and make it fast.” He snapped. The car’s secrecy pissed him off, but Dean would never admit that he was interested in what it had to say.

The demons staying in this town got wind of my brother and other hunters coming over to hunt them down. The voice said the word brother with extreme hate, almost spitting the word out. They wanted to bring me back from Hell, to mess with his mind. I was brought back not 100 me though. Eventually over a long time all souls turn to demons, but they somehow speeded the process up for me with their funky powers. I’m a demon with human memories.

“That’s pretty messed up.” Dean commented in a low voice.

Really? I hadn’t noticed! I was ecstatic to come to earth again, but I refused to have anything to do with my asshole of a brother. So now they have to find another use for me or send me back to Hell. Next thing you know, some idiots come driving into town with the famous Impala that the Winchesters hunters drive.

Dean couldn’t help but smirk at that. “Famous, huh?”

I was the perfect candidate to posses it. But, er…

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

I didn’t exactly stick to the plan.

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Dean said, repeating the Impala’s word.

You’re a good hunter Dean, and you’re a good brother. I almost felt bad that I’d have to bring you down from the inside... And then I saw Sam. Good hunter, not so good brother. And that pissed me off. Next thing you know, I’m having a bit of a chat to him.

“A bit of a chat? What did you say exactly?” Dean’s foot pressed harder on the pedal.

Something bout wanting to kill him, I forget. The point is, I kind of took a liking to you Dean. And that night when we both nearly went off the edge of that bridge, I decided to save you. Sam couldn’t do anything. I was the brother to you that night! Not him.

“And let me guess, next thing you know you’re driving off with the guy trying to blow him up.”

Yeah! The Impala agreed enthusiastically, relishing the memory whilst ignoring the sarcasm and anger in Dean’s voice.

Mind you it wasn’t just because I hated the guy. The demons were still sore from the night before when I wouldn’t let them near him or you. I was trying to keep them happy.

Dean said nothing, at the back of his mind he was trying to figure out what would happen when he faced Ian.

They still didn’t seem happy, I’m sure sooner or later someone will come along and send me back to Hell. It sighed deeply, echoing the grumble of the car. But that will be alright! Soon you’ll be there to keep me company.

Dean jumped in his seat at the statement. “Come again?”

Don’t mess with me. I hear things; I know you’ll be dead soon.

“What’s it to you?” Dean said defensively.

Well isn’t it obvious? I’ll probably be dragged back there too then! I’d be happy to accept you as a big brother. And I’m sure in time you’ll accept me as your-

“What?” Dean almost shouted out. Was this what the entire thing had been about? He couldn’t believe this was happening, this conversation. And with his own car for crying out loud!

What? The Impala said mock innocently. He then said quietly, it would be nice to have a brother again that’s all…

Dean’s face softened at this. “Well if that’s true then how come you’re trying to kill Sam? He’d…” Dean hesitated to say it aloud, “he’d be in Hell too.” It was scary to talk about things like that.

You honestly think you’d ever get to see each other there?

Dean couldn’t answer. He’d never really thought about it. He never really thought about Hell much; at least he tried not to. “Well how should I know?” His heart began to race as he turned into the road where the house was.

The Impala barked out a chuckle. You’re right I guess.

Dean clenched the steering wheel, knowing the next question was a sensitive one. “Why do you hate Jack?”

He didn’t save me in time .He let that ghost drag me to Hell with him. The Impala replied simply. It’s Jack’s fault I’m dead, and it will be Sam’s fault when you are. I hate them. I hate them both! It’s voice rose painfully in Dean’s ears. It sounded angry, but not upset. The voice sounded happiest when talking about death or hate.

“You can’t blame your brother for your death.” Dean said, disgusted at the thought. Even with the despair he had been feeling this year, not once had he preferred it were Sam or blamed him for it.

Hell does things to you. All rational thoughts leave you, there’s no need for them there. All that is left are the emotions you felt when you died. And whatever they are, in time they slowly turn to hate.

Dean again didn’t say anything; he couldn’t really expect much else from Hell, it had made a name for itself on earth without anyone ever being there. He saw the house at the end of the road, the bordered up windows made it unclear as to whether any lights were on inside.

And then the Impala said something that threw all of Dean’s sympathy out the window.

You’ll understand when Hell makes you hate Sam.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean said strongly, ending the conversation. He pulled on the brakes and pushed against the handle of the car door. His blood ran cold. It wouldn’t budge. “Dammit it let me out!” He bellowed, pressing his entire body against the door.

Not until you promise you’ll be my brother!

“You’re a freaking psycho!” Dean screeched.

Er, hello? Demon!

It wasn’t often Dean lost his cool, but the events of the past few days were beginning to get to him. The fact that he was sitting right outside the house where Sam was in trouble was getting to him. The fact that everything the damn car was saying was most likely true was getting to him.

I’m someone who would protect my brother no matter what! I even told Sam that so he wouldn’t worry about you! The voice was twisted and insistent, yelling in Dean’s ears.

“How the hell was he supposed to know that?” Dean shouted back. He got out his gun and tried smashing it against the class with all the force he could muster. The gun rebounded like rubber.

The Impala continued. You’ll need someone like me in Hell. You’ll want a brother then. And a shit brother like Sam isn’t going to be there is he?

“Sam is a good brother!” Dean yelled, hitting against the door with every word he said.

I’ll help save your ‘good’ brother if you promise. The Impala tempted, suddenly calm again.

Dean punched and kicked the door and roof and all around him, grunting in despair. He took in several deep breathes before accepting what he had to do.

“Okay…I promise! Okay? I promise just let me save him!”

Another deal made for another way to save his brother. And Dean would never have it any other way.

Okay then, let’s go! The Impala shrieked gleefully and the engine roared. Dean didn’t touch the wheel but it turned rapidly and accelerated towards the house.

Dean had no time react except grip the car seat. “What the f-”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam was choked back into consciousness and opened his mouth wide to gasp; only he found he could draw no air in. He stared fearfully up at Ian with wide eyes, who held his arm out over Sam’s chest with a closed fist, looking rather bored.

“Don’t look at me like that; this isn’t exactly how I wanted it to end for you either.” Ian said crossly, going back to those deliciously violent thoughts he’d had of watching the young hunter die. He sighed. “It seems your brother took care of my pals back at the Mayflower, now I gotta do a quick job before I end up the same.”

Pinned to the bed by the demonic forces, Sam coughed weakly. He squeezed his eyes shut, his mind too hazy to comprehend the fact that he was dying.

In fact his mind was so hazy, he didn’t notice the ear splintering crash sounding behind the thin wall next to him. Ian, however, did.

He swore at the sound of rubble crashing, furniture smashing and his rage boiled over as he heard that frustratingly annoying sound of the Impala’s engine.

“That son of a…” He splayed his fingers, releasing his hold on Sam who gasped deeply and ripped the bedroom door off its hinges. He had seen Hell, but Ian’s mouth dropped open at the incredibly random scene before him.

The living room was in ruins. Everything Ian saw seemed to be broken, bricks and rubble was scattered in between furniture and in the centre of the room was the Impala, dust and rubble covering it. Dean stumbled out the Impala, his eyes blinking wide as if trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“What the hell?” Ian said dangerously.

Dean locked eyes with the demon, and bolted from the car. Ian threw out an arm, his eyes turning beady and black. Dean was swept off his feet and thrown into a wall, and he felt a huge pressure pressing into him, making him groan with the impact of it all. Ian ignored him and turned to the car. The engine growled.

“I’ve had enough of you.” Ian sneered.

Dean’s mind was racing, what the hell had the Impala been thinking? How did this help? He watched Ian take one step towards the car, and in the next beat Ian was flung a dozen steps back and straight into the same wall beside Dean. His eyes met with the demon once again but this time they both shared genuine looks of surprise. The engine roared with laughter. Dean felt the invisible grasp on him loosen and he quickly slid down the wall, hitting the floor with a thud, and Ian cried out angrily. Without a second look at Ian or the car, Dean staggered up and ran for the room Sam had been in last. He heard Ian swear colorfully and the engine’s noise increased, taunting him.

“Sam!” Dean lifted up the door from the ground and shoved it in the door frame in a hopeful attempt to shield them from the demonic fight. He whirled around to find Sam half sitting up in bed. He was panting and his face shone with sweat, but his eyes were alert.

“What the hell is going on Dean?”

“I’ll explain later, come on.” He rushed over and helped Sam stand. He let Sam find his independent balance and rushed over to the window. He pulled on the latch but it wouldn’t move from its place. Banging against the class gave Dean the same results as the car windows. He turned back to Sam who looked on seriously. More crashes and bangs could be heard over the engine which was now so loud it was ringing in Dean’s ears, poking his recovering concussion.

Dean moved back over to Sam when he wavered. Their eyes swerved up to the ceiling where a small crackling noise was growing stronger.

Dean closed his eyes, no longer wanting to look at the troublesome situation. “Son of bitch.” His voice sounded tired, heavy with despair. Dean stood there looking at the ground, listening to the house smash apart, sick of the world.

“Dean we have to find take cover.” Sam said, pulling on his brother and shaking his shoulder. Getting no response he looked at his face. Sam then hissed worriedly, “Dean!

Dean blinked rapidly, and turned to face him.

“You’re still here, I’m still here.” He reassured him, both brothers knew he wasn’t talking about being inside there inside the dangerous house.

Dean nodded, putting back on his tough armour. “Come on!”


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Together they stumbled through the hallway; the bulbs that had been lighting the house were flickering on and off, continuously throwing them into darkness and confusion. Sam tripped over his feet. His hurting ribs added to the impact and he fell down onto one knee. Dean leant down next to him trying to help him up carefully, and a chair spiraled from the lounge and into his direction. Sam saw it first and tugged on Dean’s offering hand, pulling him down to the carpet with him. The chair flew over their heads and splattered into the wall, falling to pieces. They both got to their feet and moved forward, no need for exchanging words.

Entering the kitchen, the brothers set their eyes on a massive hard wooden table. It looked like some sort of antique, looking out of place next to the modern shabby kitchen. It stood out as a miracle to Sam and Dean.

Without consulting one another they simultaneously slid under the large furniture. Dean then jumped onto his heels.

“Wait!” He said and tried to move out again.

Sam grabbed his arm and pulled him back under. “What are you doing?” He yelled over the noise.

“If we want to survive this we’ll need rock salt.” Dean shouted back before trying to move again. Sam’s hands formed a hard grip on his brother.

“Are you crazy? That stuffs in the car!”

“Let go of me!” Dean shrugged off Sam’s hold, taking advantage of his weak state. Sam placed his palms flat on Dean’s turned back.

“Don’t.” He begged. His breathing was shaky and uneven, and the darkness and noise was making him delirious.

Dean turned back to Sam, his facial expression stayed the same besides a soft flicker brushing over his eyes.

What sounded like a thunder crash exploded around them, and through the darkness debris fell to the floor with a deafening clatter. The house shook and the noise all meshed together, creating a chaotic scream. Sam held his arms over his head, praying for it all to stop.

His prayers were answered.

“Sam?” His brothers rough voice echoed around his head. Groaning, Sam opened his eyes. Which scared him a little bit, because Sam didn’t remember closing them. Nor did he remember lying flat on his back, but he found himself staring up at a worryingly calm Dean.

“Dean.” He greeted softly.

“You alright? You blacked out for a bit.” Dean informed him. The noise of a breaking house was absent, along with the loud rumble of the Impala.

Sam nodded slowly. “What...Where…?”

“I don’t know.” Dean replied shortly.

The table quivered as the two hunters crawled out of it. The cold night air danced along their skin and they looked at their surroundings. Half the house had fallen in on itself. They cautiously made their way into the living room. The top floor had fallen onto the ground, the carpet wasn’t even visible. The Impala was gone. The debris crunched and grinded under Sam and Dean’s boots.

“Jack is going to kill us.” Sam breathed.


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So, what do you think then? :)

Um, IGNORE LONG DISTANCE CALLER AND GHOSTFACERS!! XD This is set before then :o

Thank you so much if you've read this far :)

Great update!!! Can't wait for more to come!!!!
------Becky
:D

:P Another great update! Can't wait for more.

Cindy.

OMG sO i just read what you had over at ffnet
and I thought the title sounded familiaar
and all I got to say
is wow
I love it

and update soon

All I can say is this is an awesome, awesome story waiting for more.

Thank you so much! :) I'm really happy you're posting comments!

The fic is almost finished! :o


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“Three weeks. It’s been almost three damn weeks since we saw the Impala.” Dean complained.

“Dean, stop it.We’re trying our best.” Sam said moodily.

“I swear if you say that one more time I will kick you out of this car!” Dean snapped.

“Hey, it’s not like I’m not worried myself!” Sam replied defensively.

“Shut up, both of you.” Bobby said calmly, entering the argument and ending it. He knew five minutes later this would all be forgotten, tensions had been running high and this past week they had been arguing almost as much as worrying about the other. Sam’s injuries were healing without little problems –but it was a slow process. And Dean’s deal was looming closer and closer…

It had been two and a half weeks since the Winchesters had skipped town. What with the reports of an Impala recklessly driving about and a house that collapsed in on itself despite the calm weather the brothers were forced to flee along with a weary Bobby and a stressed Jack –who they hadn’t seen since. None of them had been happy about it, but after the regrettable death of Hendrickson they all agreed that they had could not afford to have the law on the wrong side again. It was roughly 7pm as they rode back to Bobby’s house. The old hunter had asked friends and friends of friends and then some to look out for any signs of an Impala. It had taken the three of them two and a half hours to drive to some junk yard to find that the run down Impala that had been sighted was not their car but an abandoned vehicle that a group of teenagers liked to joy ride in.

Bobby went on. “Calm down and talk about this like rational adults.”

The Winchesters sighed in unison.

“Okay,” Sam started, “we’re not any closer to finding the Impala. And let’s face it, we have all the time in the world to sort that out… I kind of want to start focusing on the deal again.”

He turned to Dean, who for once didn’t offer any sarcasm or jokes. “Yeah. Me too.” He said honestly. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly then looked out the window.

Sam watched him but didn’t say anything. Dean would either become jokey or distant when talking about the deal. He didn’t like either of the ways he reacted.

Not another word was spoken for the journey back, and Bobby couldn’t help but be secretly thankful.


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The lights were all off and a sheet of darkness covered the house. Dean walked through first and with a gun in his pocket –easy access. You could never be too careful. He flicked on the light switch and seeing a figure out the corner of his eye he whirled to his left and pointed his gun.

“Jack?”

“Dean.” The man greeted casually. His eyes were alert and eyeing the gun, but his posture was relaxed as he sat on Bobby’s chair, feet leaning on the chair opposite.

“What are you doing here?” Dean questioned suspiciously. He lowered the gun.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Jack sneered.

Dean was taken aback by the coldness, and his hand clenched onto his gun in reaction. He shook his head wearily. “I haven’t got time for this, Jack.”

“Well that’s tough ‘cos you and I are going to have a talk.”

At that point Bobby and Sam entered through the front door and into the kitchen where Dean and Jacked were facing each other.

“Jack!” Bobby said surprised, laying eyes on the hunter. “…Did you break into my house?”

“Dean what’s going on?” Sam muttered behind him, noticing the icy atmosphere.

“You’re a son of a bitch, Winchester.” Jack said to Dean who recoiled at the sudden statement.

“Dude, what the hell did I ever do to you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me my brother was the thing possessing that car?”

Dean felt a wave of guilt, and he felt Sam stiffen behind him.

“What?” Bobby voiced in disbelief.

“What are you talking about?” Dean said hurriedly, trying to brush off Jack’s growing rage.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Dean!” Jack roared. His voice was furious but his face remained neutral.

There was a short hush.

Dean sighed heavily. “I didn’t think it was something you’d want to know. The Impala-I mean, your brother…Jack, he hated you.”

Jack glared at him. “You think I don’t know? You think I don’t know that my brother died blaming me for his death?” He spat. “…How can you say I wouldn’t want to know, you have a brother yourself you should know what this would feel like!”

Dean could feel Sam’s eyes piercing into the back of his head, but he kept his eyes on Jack. He gave him an apologetic look. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

Jack shook his head. “No. You knew how much it mattered; you just wanted it to be easier for you and your damn brother. You wanted to ignore what you’re going to become when you’re dragged off to Hell.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Who told you that? Come to think of it, how did you find out about the Impala?”

“From my brother himself. He told me everything.” Jack said darkly.

“You’ve seen him?” Bobby said, alarmed.

“He saw me. It wasn’t a happy reunion but I know where he is now. I came here as soon as I could so we can all end this.” Jack had drawn his outburst back into him, his calm exterior folding over his anger.

There was another silence briefly.

Dean slowly nodded. “Okay then. We’ll go now.”

“Just you.” Jack said. “Just you and I.”

Sam suddenly spoke up strongly, “He’s not going with you alone.”

Jack shook his head again. “He’s after you Sam, and he somehow knows where Bobby lives. You’d be a burden coming with us, especially with your injuries.”

“I’m fine.” Insisted Sam as Bobby raised his eyebrows.

“And what about me? First your break into my home then exclude me from a hunt? Jack, what the hell has gotten into you?” Bobby growled.

Jack simply said, “Look what happened to Sam last time he was left alone injured.”

Bobby grimaced at the thought of his house collapsing, his special weapons and treasured books lost under all the rubble. Not to mention the only photograph he had left of the woman he had loved, the woman he had killed…

Dean stood pondering for a minute, and then said to Jack. “Okay. Just let me get something.” They all watched him stalk out the room, Sam muttered a curse word and scurried after him.


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“Dean, what the hell?”

“Don’t start, Sam.” Dean said distantly, unzipping his duffel and reaching into it.

“What do you mean ‘don’t start’? Why didn’t you tell me or Bobby any of this stuff?”

Dean lifted out a small cassette and slammed the bag down. “Because!”

“Because what?”

“Because I was scared! Okay?” Dean snapped, waving his arms about in a sarcastic theatrical manner in an effort to making his released fears seem more light hearted. “I knew you’d both compare them to us and start freaking out like I am and we don’t need this right now!”

Sam looked sadly on at Dean as he left the room.

“Just let me go with him Sam and then we can all put this behind us.” His voice was less harsh and more sincere.

Sam looked down, defeated. “You got the cassette, right?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the right one?”

“I don’t even know if this will work…”

“Dean...” Sam warned.

“Yes it’s the right one!” Dean walked down the hallway when he heard Sam softly call his name again. “What?”

“I just,” Sam faltered, “I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Dean smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I always do.”


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“Jack, I don’t have a clue what we’re doing here. Why are we trying to find a car on foot?”

Jack didn’t reply, and continued to step through the long grass. A gust of wind flew in Dean’s face and sent tingles down his spine. Something wasn’t right. He reached into his front pocket where the cassette was. He didn’t know how he would get it into the Impala, but he had to try.

“Jack!” Dean yelled over the strong wind.

Jack stopped, but didn’t turn around. The darkness of the night stretched out over their heads, not much could be seen in the distance except more trees and a bit of road. They were completely alone. The wind roared.

Dean felt uneasy; from where he was standing Jack could have looked like a spirit. He felt for his gun. “Jack?” He called again, a little less surely this time.

Jack slowly turned around, a strange smile on his face that looked incredibly out of place. “Just call me little brother.” He said, grinning, his eyes dark pools of black.

Dean’s stomach dropped. “Shit.” He gasped.

Jack laughed loudly, but it was not Jack’s voice anymore. The chuckle was too low and it somehow reached Dean’s ears over the strong wind. It was the irritating cackle of the demon possessing the Impala. He began to stride towards Dean who began to back away, the same eerie smile fixated on Jack’s face.

The next thing Dean knew was darkness.


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"Luke…"

The boy sat on a ripped armchair staring into space, ignoring his surroundings and the voice calling out to him.

"Luke!" The voice spluttered and the boy finally turned his head, grinning in response.

Luke looked up at a livid Jack O'Doherty who was clutching a bag of rocksalt, his nails digging into the bag with apparent shock. Jack's hair was blond and choppy, and the deep lines caused from stress and grief that would later adorn his face had barely made an appearance yet.

"Hey big brother." Luke greeted lazily.

Luke came across as an ordinary teenager. He always managed to find something to smile about, and he loved talking to people and have them listen to whatever he had to say or joke about, much to Jack's exasperation. Yes, Luke was definitely one of those people who enjoyed life, and so people were rather surprised to hear that he was an orphan living with his mysterious older brother in some small and gritty apartment. They'd be even more surprised to hear that he hunted the supernatural -not that they ever would.

"What the hell have you done to your hair?" Jack demanded.

Luke ran a hand through his black, spikey top. "I know, right! It's different."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I go out for half an hour and your hair turns from bright blond to black?"

Luke scratched the back of his head and said sheepishly, "It didn't turn black, I dyed it..."

Jack laughed despite himself. "Obviously!" He dropped the rock salt on a nearby table.

"So you don't like it?" Luke asked innocently, but in a teasing manner.

"You look ridiculous." Jack replied carelessly, going over to the fridge.

Pouting, Luke insisted, "Well I don't even care what you think anyway! Loads of people at school dye their hair all the time."

"Whatever. Why black, anyway?" He took out two cans and shut the door with his elbow.

Luke explained. "We're always sneaking around in the dark on hunts... not much help if my blond hair sticks out like a sore thumb. You should do the same thing Jack."

Jack made a sarcastic noise. "Yeah, I'll do that right away. Speaking of hunts, we've got one tonight. And you've got homework to do before then."

"No shit, Sherlock...Where's the hunt again?"

Jack playfully juggled the sodas, his mouth hung open with concentration. "There's a ghost haunting a graveyard a couple of towns away."

Blowing a raspberry, Luke sang, "Boring...Ouch!" He rubbed the back of his head where Jack had clipped him with one of the cans. "What was that for?"

"For not taking hunts seriously enough!...And for dying your hair." He added lightly, passing one of the cans to Luke. His brother took the soda and fiddled with the difficult latch.

"Aw, come on. It's not like I got a piercing." He paused, and Jack saw an invisible light bulb switch on over his head. "I should get a piercing!" Luke declared.

Jack snorted. "Over my dead body. No way am I going out with you looking like even more of a twat than you already do."

"I reckon I could pull it off!"

"Sure you could..."

The brothers' friendly banter continued into the afternoon of the past, unaware of the fateful night ahead of them.


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Dean often slept in the car when it was Sam's turn to drive, so for the first few seconds Dean wasn't alarmed by the noise of the Impala's engine. After that small blissful moment however, he shot right up with alarm, his mind immediately alert with adrenaline. He found himself sprawled across the backseat, and looking out through the windows at the dark roads and on going grass, Dean could have been halfway across the country for all he knew.

Did you ever dye your hair?

"Where's Jack?" Dean instantly asked.

I left him lying in the road somewhere, don't worry I'm running a circuit so we'll see him soon enough.

"What are you planning?" Dean growled. The doors were locked and the steering wheel moved freely. The Impala was completely in control.

The voice said darkly, I've been thinking Dean... why do we have to be the brothers who go to Hell? Why not Jack and Sam? And with me to protect you, those hell hounds would never get you I swear...Could Sam promise you the same thing?

Dean ignored the question. "You sick son of a bitch."

Nice.

Dean glared in the direction of the steering wheel, angry at how calm the Impala was. "Let me make this clear, I don't care if I go to Hell or not, I will never accept you as my brother."

The car swerved suddenly with such impossible force Dean was slammed to the right, smacking his head on the side. He groaned and swore quietly.

I don't want to hurt you Dean, but if you say hurtful things like that...

The impact made his vision swarm, but Dean spoke daringly. "What, you'll do to me whatever the hell you did to Sam last time he was in here?"

No, but how about I run over Sam's bones 'till they're mangled when he gets here?

"What the hell are you talking about, 'when he gets here'?"

Well if he's such a great brother as you say he is, he'll have followed you. I know I was acting suspiciously when I pretended to be Jack.

There was a pause, and only the sound of the engine filled the car.

Dean said fearfully, "You're going to kill him." It wasn't a question.

The Impala laughed softly, echoing off the inside of the car and sending chills up his spine. Dean growled and made to move forward towards the cassette player, only to find a force come down on him and throw him back into the seat. It felt so heavy on his body, and Dean struggled to breathe. The temperature in the car grew, and Dean watched in growing panic as the windows steamed up. He suddenly felt weak; lifting his limbs drained his strength. His eyelids drooped.

You underestimate me, Dean.

Slowly slipping down onto the seat until his cheek met with the leather seat. Dean gasped slowly, "What...have you...?"

It'll be over soon. It'll be okay...

The car was filtered with a red colour, confusing Dean and making him struggle under the demonic forces even more.


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The rain had stopped, but Sam and Bobby kept on going.

Dean hadn't answered his phone, and that along with Jack's suspicious behaviour was enough to send both hunters out looking for them soon after they had left. Sam had been kicking himself ever since for letting Dean go alone. He didn't know how or why, but he just knew something was wrong. Dean was in trouble and he had to get to him.

"Where are they, Bobby? If we were following them the right way we would have seen them by now. Or maybe we are going the right way but something happened..." Sam waffled miserably.

Bobby lightly slapped him on the shoulder in a reassuring yet annoyed fashion. "Stop it; you know 'what ifs' are no good. And slow down, your ribs aren't healed enough to handle this."

Sam brushed off his worry and said quickly, "Thanks for the concern Bobby but I just want to find them." His voice was breathy from the continuous searching.

"Yeah you and me both kid." Bobby muttered.

Sam scanned the dark horizon through his wet locks. They were both drenched, caught in the worst of the downpour, but neither complained and simply plodded on through the grass.

In the distance Sam saw a road; he followed it with his eyes and froze as he saw a body lying in the middle. "Oh no...No..." He broke into a run, praying it wasn't Dean his eyes were on.

"Sam!" He heard Bobby calling him but he didn't respond. He also ignored the sharp protest from his ribs and the compressed feeling against his lungs. Dropping to his knees, he cautiously rolled over the still body. He was met with the unconscious face of Jack O'Doherty. Sam exhaled, unsure whether to be relieved or not. He felt Bobby stand behind him.


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Luke grunted every time he drove the shovel into the dirt; grave digging was a messy job. Jack stood above him on the even earth leaning against a shovel he had stood up in the ground, holding a gun loosely in his hand.

"Why am I always the one digging? You're bigger!" Luke complained.

"Because I'm the oldest." Jack replied simply. "Besides, it's exercise, right? Your skinny bones will thank me!"

Luke was about to retort when the wind suddenly picked up, turning the hairs up on the brothers' necks. There was a sharp thump in the background, Luke stopped digging and looked up at Jack who frowned and looked the way the sound had come from.

After a while, he confirmed, "It's nothing. Carry on."

"Alright." Luke said a little sceptically, but in reality both knew how much he trusted his older brother. This trust was about to be shattered.



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"Is he...?"

"I don't know..." Sam trailed off, slowly reaching for Jack's neck to find a pulse. As soon as his fingers touched his skin the old hunter bolted, gasping suddenly. Sam jumped back at the movement in surprise.

"Wow, calm down it's just us." He said, holding his arms out. Jack regained his breath and looked from Bobby to Sam; they didn't even have to ask for an explanation.

"The Impala possessed me. I don't remember much but," he hesitated to explain. "I remember Dean." He grunted softly as Bobby helped pull him to his feet, he nodded thanks and then locked eyes with Sam, who was still squatted on the ground absorbing the information. Jack tried to reassure him. "I don't know why, but he wants him alive… We still have time."

Sam nodded, looking at the ground. "How are we going to find the Impala?"

Neither Jack or Bobby answered.

"Any ideas?" He asked hopefully.

Bobby tapped him on the shoulder, and he followed his and Jack's gaze. Sam slowly got to his feet not taking his eyes off the sight before him, and all three men stood in the road shoulder to shoulder, watching in awe.

Fire stood out in the dark background of night, swiftly running up and down the roads, the Demon Impala made its entrance from the distance. Sam barely recognized it as his own car, the normally blue colour was now a blood red, the windows were opaque with steam and the engine resembled the constant sound of a lion's roar. It was no longer the Winchester's family car, it was now just metal and demon combined.

The wheels sprung to life and the car sped towards them, and Sam found himself stepping forward.

"Stop this..." He said dangerously.

The engine cackled at Sam's defensive stance, and zoomed on eagerly.

His body was moving without consulting any rational thought. Strong moral had him pacing towards the car faster and faster.

"Don't do this!" He suddenly shouted over the engine. "Don't kill your brother!" Sam was now running towards the supernatural vehicle.


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The voice laughed in Dean's ears, sending his ear drums into frenzy. He squirmed under the discomfort and the force holding him down.

What is your brother trying to do? It sneered.

Dean snapped out of his deliria at the mention of Sam.

Say goodbye to Sammy! He said gleefully.

"No!" He yelled, throwing himself up and against the invisible barriers. Dean let out a harsh scream and broke past the forces, determination ignoring the weakness that corrupted his body. Fumbling through his pockets, he pulled out a cassette and moved forward, slamming it into the player. He then collapsed over the front seat, listening to the sound of Sam's recorded voice speaking next to the Impala's laughter and loud rumble of the car. Closing his eyes, he let the Latin do its job. The engine coughed and the laughter was cut off.

Dean... the voice quivered, what have you done?

“See you in Hell.” Dean muttered darkly.


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The metal monster came to a quick stop, and the back wheels lifted and slammed back into the ground from the abrupt force. Sam skidded to a stop and watched nervously as he caught his breath. The car cooled back down to its original colour, and the fire flanking the vehicle died down. The engine was humming softly.

Thundering footsteps told Sam Bobby and Jack were catching up to him, but his thoughts were on his brother. Without waiting to see the Impala’s next move, Sam hurried over to the side of the car. He couldn’t see past the steam. Tugging on the door handle, he found it was still sealed shut.

“Dean?” Sam called, placing his hands flat on the window and rapping hard.

Clutching his spinning head, Dean turned to where he heard Sam’s voice. Stumbling over to the window and clumsily wiping away the steam, he found himself looking at a soaked and worried Sam through the blurred glass. Overcome with relief Dean put his hands against the glass, eyes swerving over his brother.

Sam’s voice was slightly muffled from standing outside the car. “We’re gonna get you out but just hold on. The doors won’t open I think the demon’s still inside.”

Panic set in, and Dean began hitting the window desperately, his jaw clenched with tension and fear.

Sam moved his face closer to the window. “Dean, calm down! Stop i-” He was cut off as he was pulled off the ground. Sam flew back and cried out as he connected with the ground, his ribs exploding with pain.

“Look out!” Bobby warned loudly as black unshaped smoke expelled out of the cracks of the car, swirling above them into the air before shooting down into Jack. He fell to the ground at the impact, and Bobby ran over to the no longer possessed car and pulled open the door.

“Move!” He growled urgently, and Dean swooped out the car and to Sam’s side.

Jack slowly got on his feet, his head looking down. His fists clenched by his sides, shaking with anger.


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Pouring the salt over the bones, Luke said, “It looks like we’re nearly done here.”

In the background, a thick branch fallen from a tree quivered, and descended from the ground.

Jack nodded, taking out a match. “Yep.”

The ghost appeared behind him, knocking him in the back with the branch. Unprepared, Jack lost his balance and fell into the grave and knocked his head on the coffin beside a panicked Luke.

“Jack?” His stomach dropped as he felt a force lift him off his feet. “Jack!” He screamed, waving his limbs desperately as he was raised higher and higher into the dark sky, the cold air clinging to his skin.

Jack looked up in horror, blood running from a cut on his head clouding his vision. He grabbed the gun they had brought with them and aimed it, but couldn’t bring himself to shoot up at his brother.

Luke continued to shriek pleadingly, but it was cut off suddenly and a horrible choking sound met Jack’s ears.

Luke couldn’t breathe, and he felt as if his insides were being ripped apart. Whatever spirit they had attempted to finish off was one malicious ghost. All Luke had wanted to do was to help people, save lives and do what was right… Luke thought that with Jack he could do that, couldn’t he do anything with his big brother protecting him?

The ghost seemed to disagree, and as Luke fearfully felt his body lose the battle to live, the evil spirit whispered in his ear, I’m going to get you.

It terrified Luke more than dying itself.

The boy was suspended in mid air, back arced in pain. A sad and lonely silhouette before the moon, he owned this quiet night.

Desperate, Jack clambered out of the grave and picked up the matches. Hastily lighting it, he threw it down on the salted bones. They burst into flame, and above him Luke silently plunged back down to earth, the body whistling in the wind.


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Jack snapped his head up, furious little black eyes scanning over the wary group of hunters. He screamed with rage, baring his teeth.

“Give me back my brother!”

Bobby stepped protectively in front of Dean and Sam who were kneeling on the ground, but with one sweep of his hand Jack had thrown him to the side and pinned him to the ground. Dean scrambled up but Jack held his arm out and did the same action again, however with less force. He moved his face right in front of Sam’s, who struggled to move away. Jack grabbed onto his shoulders with a harsh grip.

“This is all your fault, you know that? You already lost your brother to his deal. Well now he belongs to Hell and he belongs to me.” He hissed.

Sam didn’t reply, trying to breathe through the pain and look behind him for Dean. Jack grabbed his face and forced him to look straight into his deep demonic eyes.

“Do you know how that feels to be let down? To have your own brother condemn you to Hell?” He shouted, spitting in Sam’s face. Held under the demon’s tight grip, Sam couldn’t even wince. He heard Dean shouting his name in the background.

Without warning, Jack suddenly released Sam and stumbled back, clutching his head and groaning. Dean and Bobby jumped up from the ground and made their way to Sam, pulling him away from the possessed man.

Jack brought his hands away from his head and looked around as if seeing the three men for the first time. His eyes were not black.

“Jack?” Bobby said warily.

The man nodded silently, looking frightened before dropping to his knees in pain, groaning and bringing his hands up to his head.

“This is none of your business!” The twisted, screaming voice of the demon cried, returning to be in control of the body. But not for long. This time the demon’s voice was moaning in pain, holding his head and shaking on the ground.

Jack’s voice reappeared briefly. “Kill him.” He then said louder and with more strength, “Do it! I won’t let him take control!”

Bobby was immediately reciting an exorcism, and Dean once again stood in front of a weakened Sam. All of them watched the O’Doherty brothers fight for control in the one convulsing body, screaming with rage and regret.


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His breath came out in shaking gasps as Jack crawled over to his brother’s still form. Cautiously, he leaned over him and scanned his face for life. The eyes were half open and blank, no emotion expressed on the face and the lips were slightly parted, a line of blood trickled out and over the pale cheek.

Jack subconsciously shook his head, face scrunching up with despair as he looked down at Luke. He had been dead before he hit the ground.


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The exorcism finished, and the black curl of smoke whizzed out of Jack, desperately twirling in the air before disappearing.

The three hunters breathed sighs of relief.

It was over. The demon was exorcised and the car was free.

After one final encore, the Demon Impala had finished its sorry tale.

Dean stepped forward, the footstep echoing in the dark night. Bobby outstretched a hand and gave him a warning look, Dean nodded and the older man let him move.

Kneeling down over Jack’s body, Dean slipped a hand to the side of his neck and waited.


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“I’m so sorry.” The sobbing voice repeating over and over. Jack sat hunched over the limp body he held close to him. He had held close to him for so long, since the day their mother had died and their father had gone over the edge and into that train. Jack had held his brother close to him since the day he had been born.

But tonight he hadn’t, and he prayed he would never see his brother again.

Because Jack knew his brother more than anyone else, and he knew Luke would never forgive him.


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“Dean?” Sam said hoarsely.

Dean uttered, “He’s dead.”


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Only the epilogue left! What do you all think?

I'm so sorry it took ages, the silly lappy deleted my original write up and i had to write it ALL OVER AGAIN!


Thanks to those reading this far :) It means a lot.

You know I really feel like my writing's improved since I started this fic!!

:P That was a wonderful story! It was exciting and touching and sad. I'm sorry to see it end. Can't wait to read the epilogue.

Cindy.

Thanks Cindy! :)

And a big, BIG thank you to those who have posted a message to say what they think, the recognition alone makes me happy but you're lovely comments has totally supported this story! :D

Here is the epilogue, but it is set in the season 3 finale. It's not very spoilery though.

I really hope you like it!





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The singing had died down. They had a way to go before they drove into the town that Lillith was lurking in. Outside it had been cold but inside the car the air was warm. Sam had to contain the urge to shiver. Chills continued to dance up his spine and the fear and adrenaline pumping around his body was cold and scary.

Sam did not sing a lot, and he didn’t have much care for it. He grew up with Dean and his father’s dodgy cassettes screaming in his ears and he had a feeling that might have something to do with his lack of passion for music. Still, that hadn’t stopped him singing along to Bon Jovi with Dean, he just couldn’t help himself. Dean was always egging him on to do silly things just for the sake of it.

The hush that had come between Dean and Sam next to the buzzing engine and underneath Bon Jovi’s enthusiastic voice was not a comfortable one.

Or maybe he didn’t. Did all brothers know so well how to deal with one another?

With just that thought, Sam’s mind was cast back to Jack O’Doherty.

Dean took his eyes off the long road ahead to glance suspiciously at Sam who turned down the volume of the music.

“Dean...” He started before his brother groaned loudly. He paused. “What?”

“You’re using that tone.” Dean grumbled.

“What tone?”

“The one when you’re gonna ask something awkward. What did I just say Sam? I’m not doing any goodbye speeches here.”

Sam sighed, defeated before defensively muttering, “I don’t have a tone...”

“Yes you do.” Dean stated wisely.

Sam leaned back into his seat thoughtfully. “I wonder if Jack knew things like that about his brother...”

Dean replied by turning up the music again. Loud.

Sam switched the radio off.

“Dude!” Dean protested.

“Why haven’t we talked about them untill now?” Sam questioned sadly, honestly not knowing the answer himself.

Dean seemed to know. “How ‘bout ‘cos we’ve been too busy saving our own asses? Besides, you never seemed bothered about it before.”

Staring at his feet, Sam said quietly, “I was so focused with saving you I forgot everything around me... Kind of like the Demon Impala.”

Dean shook his head in disagreement. “It wasn’t up to him whether I would go to Hell or not. He didn’t have any right to interfere.”

Sam didn’t reply, and turned his head to look out the window, trying to make out the dark shapes of foliage alongside the road and keep his composure.

Opening his mouth, Dean shut it again in hesitation. After a couple of seconds, he slowly said, “Still... he didn’t seem too bothered about taking his actual brother down with him.”

Grateful he was making the effort to communicate, Sam replied, “I don’t think he meant to. Jack was old, being posessed twice in such a short space of time... It wasn’t going to be good for him.”

A couple of minutes passed, and the brothers pondered in silence. Dean didn’t even reach over to turn on the radio again. Thinking carefully over something besides the deal and whether they were currently driving to their deaths was surprisingly comforting to the tense ride, even if it was a sad story. It hit home to the Winchesters.

“He was so angry at me...” Sam said, visibly upset. He looked up at Dean with bright eyes. “Did he really think I was such a bad brother?”

Dean’s immedietely cut over him. “Shut up.” He ran his hands over the steering wheel restlessly. “He wasn’t angry at you or anything you did. It was death, it was Jack. He was angry at the brother that failed him.”

Sam leant his elbow on the window and said grumpily, “Then why did he pick on me instead of Jack?”

Dean huffed, and then stilled. His eyes glazed over as if a sudden realization had dawned on him. “I think...” He said unevenly, surprised with his own words, “I think maybe after everything, I mean everything that he went through...Hell... maybe he couldn’t bring himself to blame Jack. I think it was easier for him to hurt you than his own brother, no matter what he said.”

Sam scoffed and twiddled with his thumbs, but then he muttered, “Thanks.”

Dean rolled his eyes and turned the music back on, secretly thankful for the understanding between them. “Happy now? You got your chick flick moment.”

Sam laughed lightly. “It’s not often we do.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve had enough soppy and over-emotional moments to last me a-” He stopped abruptly. The brothers shifted in their seats, Dean exhaled shakily and Sam swallowed hard. They both stared ahead fearfully, ending the conversation.

A lifetime.

It echoed around the car, reminding them how precious it truly was. Reminding them how unlucky they could have been, like Jack and Luke. Like their father... No matter what would happen tonight both knew fully well how far they had come in the harsh world of hunting.

A lifetime on earth was painful enough, and as the the last regrets for the O’Doherty brothers swam through his mind, the notes of Dead or Alive tickling his eardrums insistently, Dean couldn’t help but fear what a lifetime in Hell would bring for him.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Bitch.” He whispered. Help me.

“Jerk.” Sam replied instantly. I’ll try.







There we have it then! Please tell me what you think if you've read this far.

Oh! And does anyone know who I see about getting my story turned yellow now it's done?

:clap Beautiful! :clap

Cindy.

That was an amazing story. I love it. :clap

Thank you!

:) :) :)