Oh my goodness, almost two months exactly have passed since I last posted an update… I'm so lame! Sorry for the long wait everyone! I love you all.

For Maddy Maye

It took four days for the demon blood to work its way out of Sam's system.

Four agonizing days.

By some tacit agreement, no on spoke of Sam's addiction; everyone not-so-secretly hoping that if they simply ignored the problem it would vanish. They walked on tiptoes, terrified to ask the questions that ran through each of their minds.

Sam himself was eerily quiet as well, only responding to simple 'yes or no' questions and never elaborating. He didn't eat much either, steering clear from the Winchester staples of whiskey and beer, which was probably the most worrying to the people at Singer's Salvage Yard.

After hearing of a possible haunting a week or so after Sam had been freed from Bobby's panic room, Dean immediately packed his and Sam's things and prepared to leave. According to Dean Winchester, the best solution to any problem was a good old-fashioned salt-n-burn.

Jo was only allowed on Earth for twelve hours each day, so she usually retreated back to the hallway while the boys travelled and reappeared once they'd arrived at their destination. Really, what was the point of one extra person crammed into Dean's precious vehicle? But today, Jo got into the car alongside the boys, knowing that Dean would want her to be close to him today. He wasn't saying anything, not even to her, but she could tell by the way he kept fiddling with the ring on his finger that he was anxious.

For the first time in his life, Sam willingly volunteered to sit in the backseat, leaving Jo to sit up front with Dean. Sam claimed he wanted to sleep (something he'd been doing a lot of lately), but Jo suspected he didn't want to sit so close to his brother. He fell asleep almost instantly, the quiet noises of Dean and Jo halfheartedly arguing over radio stations lulling him to sleep.

The faint noises of Sam's snoring and the soft rock music oozing lazily from the Impala's speakers were the only things preventing the first thirty minutes of the drive from being completely silent. Sprawled out on the Impala's front bench seat with her feet dangling out the open window, Jo was at a loss.

On one hand, she wanted to talk to Dean and find out what he really thought about the whole Sam situation. Although on the other hand, she knew that Dean liked to deal with his issues in solitude. Jo watched him closely, noting how his hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white and how his eyes constantly darted to the rearview mirror to check on his sleeping brother.

The thing about Dean was that he cared. He cared so damn much about every person he knew that he never took time to care for himself and for some twisted reason he thought that was okay. Dean needed to talk; he needed to work through his feelings with help from someone other than himself. He needed to know that he wasn't alone – that Jo was there for him and that she always would be.

So she sat up and said, "Pull over at the next exit."

Dean sighed and nodded, his lack of rebuttal yet another sign of his deteriorating emotional state. Taking the exit that Jo had requested, the Impala lurched to a stop in front of a worn-out gas station. Dean got out to pump the gas and Jo followed him, leaning against the passenger door and watching as Dean shoved someone else's credit card into the machine. A second later, he was standing beside her, casting a weary glance through the back window to confirm that his brother was still asleep before letting his exhaustion show.

"What if he doesn't get better, Jo?" Dean muttered, scrunching his eyes closed and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What if this is the new Sam?"

Jo turned towards him. "Dean, he just finished detoxing. That's a lot to go through; I'm sure his body's just exhausted. If I were him, I'd probably be passed out in the backseat too. He'll get better."

"I believed that five days ago," Dean snapped. Jo frowned at his tone and Dean's shoulders slumped, his eyes falling to the ground. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered.

"Don't be – you could be right." Dean looked up at her with surprise. "But I could be right too," she continued. "We just have to take this one day at a time, okay? We'll start with this little hunt and see how it goes. If he handles it just fine and snaps himself back into normal-Sam mode, then great, but if it doesn't we can figure something out. We'll take care of him," she promised, taking a step closer and threading her arms gently around his neck. Standing up on her toes, Jo pressed her forehead against Dean's, her eyes meeting his.

"We'll be okay?" he asked hesitantly.

Bumping her nose against his, Jo smiled. "Better than okay."

Dean smiled and bumped her nose back. Putting his hands on her hips, he pulled her closer and pressed a slow kiss against her smiling lips.

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