Dean tapped his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel, glancing around almost nervously as he passed a car. Beside him, Amanda was asleep, her head resting against the window. He loathed driving on the interstate, with traffic cameras, patrolling cops and the sheer volume of people. He had been taught at a young age to stick to highways, back roads where anonymity was easier. Today, though, he was in a hurry. Sammy needed him.

He didn't expect to feel this way when Amanda told him about the dreams she and Sam had been having. He had always been very protective of his siblings, it was his job to keep them safe, but he had turned off his "Sam-intuition" for so long that he had forgotten how powerful it actually was. All he could think of was getting to Stanford as quickly as possible to save his little brother and the girlfriend. Suddenly, it was like the past few years never happened.

He glanced at Amanda when she moaned in her sleep, shifting in such a manner that Dean knew she was dreaming again. He reached over, tapping her arm lightly, "Mandy, wake up."

She didn't respond right away, and Dean was about to reach over again when she jolted awake with a start, breathing heavily and looking around the car wildly, trying to figure out where she was and what was going on.

"Was it the dream?" Dean asked, not needing to clarify which dream he was speaking of.

Amanda nodded silently, still able to clearly see Jessica's body bursting into flames and the sheer look of anguish on her brother's face. She was fairly certain that even if they managed to prevent Jess's death, she would be haunted by that image forever. She shakily reached for the water bottle she had been drinking from earlier and uncapped it, taking a swig before rummaging around in the glovebox for a bottle of aspirin.

"You okay?" Dean asked with concern.

Amanda found the desired medicine bottle and glanced at her brother with what she hoped came across as a reassuring smile and not a grimace, "I'm fine, just a headache. Every time I have one of those dreams, my skull feels like it's going to implode."

Dean reached over and turned down the volume on the radio as a courtesy, the least he could do in a helpless situation. Amanda didn't comment on it, knowing Dean would just say something about her being a sappy girl if she thanked him, and instead she asked, "Where are we?"

"Just on the other side of Flagstaff." Dean answered, "You hungry?"

Amanda knew she should be, they had yet to stop for a meal and it was approaching nightfall, but her stomach was in knots with worry. She wasn't even sure if she would be able to force down a sandwich at the moment, but she didn't want Dean to look any more worried and tense than he already did, so she shrugged half-heartedly, "If you want to stop, we can."

"You need to keep up your strength." Dean started to lecture, but fell silent when Amanda's phone rang.

Amanda stared at the small grey phone with a look of dread, praying that this wasn't a call saying that they were too late. All day long, that had been her biggest fear. With a shaky voice, she answered the phone, "Hey Sam."

"She refuses to leave. I'm sure she thinks I'm crazy or that I was having some sort of crazy random drunken dreams last night. She just doesn't get it."

Sam's voice was rushed and slightly panicked, and Amanda could only picture the expression on his face when he spoke. Trying to lower his anxiety, Amanda asked, "Did you use the eyes?"

"What?"

"You know, the 'get whatever you want' puppy eyes." Amanda teased, her voice coming across much calmer than she felt, which she could only be thankful for. If Sam heard her freaking out, he may freak out even more than he already was.

"Ha ha." Sam retorted dryly, "Seriously, Mandy, she thinks I'm insane and she refuses to go to a hotel for the night."

"I wish there was some way to know when this was supposed to happen." Amanda mused, "At least then we could have a time frame and perhaps you guys could just go to a late movie or out to a bar or something."

"No kidding." Sam paused, then asked, "Where are you guys at? When do you think you'll be here?"

Amanda looked at Dean, then at the speedometer before responding, "We're about ten hours out. Without any stops, we can probably be there around 4 to 4:30 am. Do you have salt? Salt and iron rounds? Anything to protect yourself and Jess?"

"Of course. I may not be actively hunting but I didn't forget all of Dad's training."

Dean nudged Amanda's shoulder and murmured, "Tell him to take her out somewhere...dinner, a movie, a long drive. Keep them out of the apartment as long as possible and I'll push it a little harder, try to shave some time off."

"Sammy, Dean is going to drive with a bit of a heavier foot and we're going to be there as soon as humanly possible. Dean suggests taking her out for a night out and postponing your return as long as possible." Amanda said soothingly, "I'll keep in touch with you and you keep in touch with us. We're going to beat this."

"Damn straight we're going to beat this." Sam said fiercely, "I'm half-tempted to call Dad; if it has the same MO as the thing that killed Mom, who's to say it's not the same bastard?"

"No, don't do that." Amanda discouraged, "Dean and I will be there as soon as we can. Call if you need some help." She was about to say her goodbyes and hang up when she suddenly had a thought, asking, "Any wiccan stores in the area? Maybe you can put together a good mojo bag or a hoodoo bag to ward off whatever it is? It's hard to make something without a specific entity in mind, but you can throw something together."

"Wouldn't hurt." Sam agreed, "I'll check into it. Thanks."

"No problem. Stay safe."

"You too."

Amanda hung up, rubbing her eyes partially because she was tired and partly because her head still ached from her nap. She tapped her foot against the floor impatiently, wishing they could just snap their fingers and be in Palo Alto. She stared out the window in silence, unable to shake the overwhelming sense of dread that had built up inside of her as the day had progressed. She hated feeling powerless, she wanted to lay eyes on Sam and know he was okay and she wanted to gank this bastard who was targeting Sam's girlfriend. It was maddening to be confined to the limits of time and space and know there was nothing she could do. She couldn't even plan, because she had no idea what they were up against.

"Sam wants to call Dad, in case it's the same thing that killed Mom." Amanda mentioned, needing to have something to talk about, something that would pass by the seconds and minutes instead of sitting in silence and dwelling on what she couldn't change.

"Good luck with that." Dean scoffed, knowing that if Sam tried, he'd get the same disconnect notice that they had gotten. Even if their dad's phone was in service, Dean doubted their dad would answer a call from Sam.

Amanda snorted in agreement, but then fell silent. As much as she wanted the distraction of a conversation, it felt wrong to make small talk or to even think about something other than what was happening to Sam. She thought back to her dream, trying to remember every last detail. She had been able to feel Sam's love towards Jess at the beginning, and then the terror and dread once he had opened his eyes to see his girlfriend on the ceiling. She had been able to feel the heat radiating down upon him and had smelled the burning human flesh. What she hadn't felt, though, was the cold chill that usually accompanied a ghost. Nor had she smelled the sulphur of a demon. What could have pinned Jess to the ceiling without calling attention to itself? Without physically holding her there? What could have split her open at that exact minute and caused her to start bleeding? What wasn't Jess screaming? If her eyes were open and she wasn't dead yet, why wasn't she reacting? What had that sort of power?

Suddenly, her head seared with pain and she gasped, pressing her hands against the sides of her head and bending over, resting her head against her knees. She was vaguely aware of Dean's presence but within seconds all she could see, feel and hear was Sam and Jessica's bedroom. The room smelled of lavender and the shower was running as Sam walked into the dark bedroom, finishing off a cookie. The glowing red numbers on the clock read 1:00. He flopped down onto the bed, calling out to his girlfriend, not too concerned when he didn't get a response. He felt something drip onto his head, and he went to wipe it away, though he didn't really think much of it until he felt a second drop. Alarmed, he opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Jessica pinned to the ceiling, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a silent scream. The ceiling burst into flames and the smell of smoke, fire and flesh invaded her nostrils. Her own heart raced as she screamed for Sam, but he was intently staring at his girlfriend, screaming her name as he gave in to shock and panic.

When she snapped out of the dream...vision?...she immediately grasped the door handle, blurting out frantically, "I'm going to throw up, pull over."

As she came to her senses, she realized that one, the car was already stopped, and two, Dean was staring at her with a look akin to horror on his face. She didn't have time to dwell on this, though, as bile surged into her throat. She scrambled out of the car, bending over with her hands on her knees. Her stomach churned and her head was killing her, and she desperately tried to take some deep breaths to steady herself. A few moments passed and so did the queasy feeling, and she lifted her aching head to meet Dean's gaze. He was standing in front of her, watching her with more concern than she had ever seen from her big brother before.

"I'm okay." she said after a few seconds, sure now that she was not in danger of ruining Dean's shoes, "We should hurry."

"What was that?" Dean asked, his voice laced with the same concern that she had seen on his face, "Are you sure you're good?"

"The dreams don't just happen when I'm asleep, apparently." Amanda replied, her hands shaking as she fully realized what had just happened. She looked at her brother, and as if the past ten minutes weren't embarrassing enough, she felt tears stinging her eyes. They had faced countless dangerous situations in their line of work, but she had never felt so terrified before. What was happening? What was wrong with her? Before she had a chance to protest, Dean wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, murmuring quietly that everything was going to be okay. She allowed the tears to fall for just a few minutes, absorbing the comfort and support of her older brother. She had no doubt in her mind that when he said it would be okay, it would definitely be okay. He had never let her down before and she had no reason to believe he would start now.

Dean pulled Amanda close, not only for her sake but for his own as well. He hadn't known what was happening when she started clawing at her head and gasping for breath, and it was unnerving to see the vacant look on her face once she had slipped fully into the vision. He had immediately pulled over and stopped the car so he could properly shake her shoulder and try to figure out what was going on, but nothing he did could pull her from whatever it was she was seeing. Suddenly, she had snapped back into action, grabbing at the door handle, her face ashen and her eyes watery, declaring that she was sick, though Dean didn't need her to tell him verbally-her expression told him all he needed to know.

He had quickly exited the car as well, not knowing what had happened and if she would need assistance. He was scared for her and he felt helpless, which was one of his least favorite feelings in the world, so all he could do was stand nearby and wait until there was something he could fix and make better. Dean was quite relieved when her nausea seemed to pass without incident, though his heart broke when she looked up and met his gaze. He had seen her in various states of disarray over their many years together, but he had never seen her look so broken and frightened as she did now. Not knowing how to make it better and seeing the tears shining in her eyes, he quickly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, unsurprised when dampness seeped through his shirt, her body shaking with sobs. He patted her back gently, promising that everything would work out, and after just a few minutes she pulled away, seemingly pulling herself together after her small outburst.

"1 am...that's when I saw it happening." Amanda said, pulling out her cell phone, "I need to call Sam, they absolutely cannot be at home at 1 am."

"Is it going to be tonight?" Dean asked, holding open her car door as she dialed Sam's number, "I can try to get us there by 1, but I don't know if we'll make it."

"I don't know." Amanda said, frustration seeping into her tone. Dean didn't particularly like a frustrated Amanda, because it typically led to a moody, bitchy Amanda, but he preferred it over the broken Amanda that he had seen just moments before. "Damn it Sam, answer your phone!" She snapped after the voicemail button beeped, then she hung up the phone with a growl.

"We'll keep trying." Dean reassured her, pressing his foot harder on the gas pedal.

The screen on Amanda's phone lit up, signaling to the siblings that the phone was about to ring. Amanda clutched it tightly, answering as soon as the call appeared on her screen, "Sam."

"It's going to happen at 1 am." Both Amanda and Sam said in unison.

"You saw it too?" Amanda questioned, "The clock?"

"Obviously." Sam retorted, his voice sounding weary and exhausted, much unlike the carefree and happy Sam she usually spoke to. "But you guys won't be here until after."

"Not unless we find our spare teleporter." Amanda replied sarcastically, though her tone softened almost immediately as she said quietly, "I'm sorry, Sam. I wish we could snap our fingers and be there."

"I know." Sam sighed, his voice strained from stress, "We're going to go out to dinner and to a movie. Hopefully I can stretch that past 1 am and we'll be out of the woods for tonight."

"Keep in touch."

"Drive faster."

Amanda hung up and glanced at the dashboard of the Impala, knowing driving faster wasn't an option judging by the gauges; the car certainly could push harder, but they wouldn't do any good to Sam if they were wrapped around a tree because they were driving more recklessly than they already were.

"We'll make it." Dean said firmly, though they both knew he wasn't trying to convince Amanda as much as he was trying to convince himself.

The drive continued in silence, neither in the mood for small talk nor up for a discussion on what was possibly happening to their brother and his girlfriend. Dean cranked up the volume on the cassette player, the tempo of the music helping to keep his foot heavy and to keep Amanda from trying to initiate a heart-to-heart, however unlikely that may be. The music didn't stop him from glancing in her direction every so often to make sure she was okay; he couldn't just turn off his concern for the sibling that had remained behind, who had chosen their life instead of taking a shot at the apple pie life that Sam was determined to achieve. He could tell her head was hurting still, though she hadn't said anything, and he could practically see the gears turning in her head while she pondered a possible solution.

While Dean was all action and Sam was all smarts, Amanda was a planner. She kept their supplies stocked, she never entered a situation without three scenarios of how it would go down and twice as many exit strategies. He knew it had to be driving her crazy to be running into this blind.

They had just crossed into California when the clock struck 1:00 am, and while Amanda had dozed off about an hour earlier (thankfully, it seemed to be a restful slumber), Dean was awake and alert, waiting on word from Sam. The time changed from 1:00 to 1:01 and Dean reached for the cell phone sitting on Amanda's lap. He was going to give Sam until 1:05 to call and give them the 'all clear' or he was going to call Sam himself, grudges be damned. He tapped his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel with one hand, the other gripping the small phone tightly in anticipation of a call from Sam.

Sure enough, at 1:03 the vibrated and before it even had a chance to give one full ring, Dean had it pressed against his ear.

"Sam?"

"We're fine." Sam's voice rang through the line, a mixture of relief and exhaustion, "We just left a bar and we're heading back to the apartment."

Relief washed through Dean as he heard his little brother's voice, leaving him slightly light headed as he was finally able to let himself relax. "Awesome, we'll be in town in a few hours. We'll call when we arrive and in the morning we can meet up and figure out a plan. Just because you were lucky tonight doesn't mean you're out of danger."

"I know. Thanks, Dean."

"Just doing my job...bitch."

"Jerk." Sam laughed before hanging up.

Dean had been worried that talking to Sam, seeing Sam, would be awkward and uncomfortable, but now that he had actually spoken to his little brother, he was suddenly excited to lay his eyes on him. Reaching over, he shook Amanda's shoulder, "Mandy, wake up."

"Sam?" Amanda murmured, somewhere between being fully awake and still dozing, "What's going on?"

"They made it past one...they're going back to their apartment now. We'll be there within the next couple of hours."

Amanda rubbed her eyes, relief flooding through her as Dean's words made their way through her foggy brain, "Oh, thank God."

"You want to drive for a bit?" Dean asked with a yawn. Normally, long drives were relaxing and Dean could keep going for unnatural lengths of time, but he had spent so much of his day tense and worried about Sam that he was simply exhausted now. Amanda, on the other hand, had napped quite a bit and he felt she was probably the one least likely to doze off behind the wheel at this point.

"Sure!"

Amanda rarely got to drive, and therefore never passed up the opportunity. In a fluid move that had been executed numerous times in the past, they checked their surroundings and once sure that there was no one in the immediate vicinity, Amanda grabbed the steering wheel with one hand and propped herself up with her other hand on the dashboard as Dean slid underneath her. She settled into the driver's seat and put her foot down on the gas pedal, the fluid transition only slowing them down slightly. It was less time consuming than pulling over and switching places, and while the danger had passed for the night, they were both ready to get there as soon as possible. Texas to California was a lengthy trip and both were ready to hit the beds in a motel near Palo Alto.

It didn't take long before Dean was lightly snoring in the seat next to her, and she took advantage of his slumber to put her earbud in one ear and turn up her own music. Unlike Dean, who was relieved to be getting closer to their brother, Amanda was starting to feel panicky and apprehensive now that they were actually in California. It was much easier to be supportive of her twin when he was away at school and she was on the other side of the country. Now that they were in California, she could feel a fair bit of jealousy rising and she absolutely hated herself for being jealous. After all, she had chosen to stay with Dad and Dean and not to go away to school. It was her choice, so she had nothing to be jealous of...except, of course, that she had made the choice because she was scared to leave which meant she was not only jealous that Sam was experiencing college life-something that was made to look so incredibly awesome on television-but also that he was strong enough to make a hard decision and follow through regardless of the fallout.

With these thoughts in her mind, she wished Dean was awake so they could talk about something else as a distraction...so she didn't have to picture green, luscious sprawling grounds at a prestigious university, the smell of fresh textbooks and notebook paper, her brother hanging out with his girlfriend and their friends at a bar or drinking coffee or some other hipster douchebag activity that she could totally see Sam doing just so he could fit in with the other students he had encountered. Instead, the last few years of her life were spent in musty libraries, musty and moldy hotel rooms with only her Dad, Dean and their guns that needed cleaning and bullets that needed prepping. She rarely felt jealous and robbed of the 'normal' experience, but when it hit her, it hit hard. With a sigh, Amanda turned off her ipod and reached for her cell phone, wanting to call Sam and talk-he always seemed to feel when she was in a wistful, regretting, jealous and petty mood and was more than willing to tell her what sort of crappy thing had happened lately. Usually his tales were pretty lame-an assignment he botched, forgetting to pay his cafeteria fee and having to go to class all day on an empty stomach (which was actually horrifying to her, since she rarely missed a meal, though she knew it wasn't as hard for Sam as he made it seem)-but it made her feel better that he still knew her well enough to know she needed to hear someone else's life sucked sometimes too just so she could feel better about not being there too. Her finger hovered over the keypad for a brief moment before she put the phone back down, not wanting to disturb Sam and Jess, and more importantly, not wanting to make things awkward when they did arrive. She was in touch with her thought processes enough to know that once she actually laid eyes on her brother, the apprehension would vanish in an instant.

She estimated they were about 3 hours away, if she kept them at this speed, possibly less if she put her foot down a little harder. With one hand, she reached for the tape deck and flipped through it until she came across a Queen cassette, and popped it in the cassette player, turning the volume down enough to where it wouldn't disturb Dean but still loud enough to distract her from her thoughts.

Several hours away, in Palo Alto, Sam and Jessica were walking upstairs to their apartment, Jess giggling about something Sam had said and Sam's movements clearly uncoordinated and sluggish. Perhaps they had a bit too much to drink, but as they were ordering shots with their friends, Sam hadn't been able to turn down a second, third or fourth round. He had worked so hard to get out of the life, to get away from hunting, and despite all of the effort he had made, something was after him and his girlfriend. Not that he would ever admit it to Dean or Amanda, but Sam was not looking forward to introducing them to Jess. As far as Jess knew, he and his family had a strained relationship but they were still in the realm of 'normal'. Five minutes with Dean would totally shatter that image, especially since he could already picture Dean flirting with his girlfriend, talking to her in the creepy pervy way that seemed to work well with most girls he picked up at trashy roadside bars but were not the norm amongst his college buddies. He could picture Amanda being affectionate and excitable, but knew that the switch could easily be flipped to testy and resentful if he or Jess said the wrong thing. He was just glad that their Dad wouldn't be joining them.

Sam fumbled to get the keys into the lock, his brain fuzzy from tequila and exhaustion. He needed to get inside and get some sleep, not only because his siblings would be ready to work in the morning, but also because he needed to be in the best shape possible for his law school interview Monday morning. Slightly giddy, he realized it was past midnight, so his interview was actually tomorrow, which felt so much closer than Monday in his mind. Finally, he managed to make the lock work, and the door swung open. He tossed his keys on to the table right inside the door and flipped on the light. "I could have sworn we left the TV on?"

"We did." Jess confirmed, her voice slightly slurred, "Power must have flickered or something." She dropped her purse onto the sofa, then snagged a cookie off of a plate in the kitchen, "The oven reset too."

"Are you going to shower before bed?" Sam asked, unbuttoning his shirt and kicking off his shoes. Normally he liked to keep things tidy and would be making an effort to put things where they belonged, but he was buzzed and tired and could only think of a hot shower and their soft bed.

"Yeah, unless you want to go first." Jess replied, stumbling back into the living room and adding seductively, "Or you could always join me."

Sam grinned, "I don't take advantage of drunk women."

"Who says you'd be taking advantage?" Jess asked with a laugh, kissing him gently on the lips, "I'll hurry and then we can go to bed, it's late."

"Sure." Sam replied, knowing that 'hurry' was a relative term when it came to Jess and their shower. He probably had another 30 minutes to wait before he'd see her again. He sat at the desk to check his email, though when he turned on the laptop the bright screen instantly gave him a headache. He turned it off, heading into the kitchen for an aspirin and water, and then decided it would be in his best interest to lay down until Jessica was done with her shower. The fact that his head was hurting already meant that he'd be suffering in the morning, and he hoped the aspirin, water and rest would counteract the effects of what promised to be a nasty hangover. The red numbers on the oven flashed 12:58 and Sam frowned, thinking he needed to set the time after the power failure, but he was too sluggish and exhausted to fiddle with it. He'd have to fix it in the morning, or maybe Jess would when she got up to brew coffee. After all, it wasn't important.

He pulled his shirt off and tossed it into the hamper just inside the bedroom door as he stumbled towards their bed, the shower running and the room warm from the steam escaping through the crack in the slightly opened bathroom door. It crossed his mind that he should take off his pants as well, they smelled like a bar-stale cigarettes and beer that would undoubtedly transfer to their bedspread, but he was too tired and he flopped down onto his back.

A sideways glance showed the numbers on the alarm clock turning from 12:59 to 1:00, blinking in a way that reminded him that all of the clocks needed to be reset. Something about the clock struck him as important, but he was already starting to doze off and he couldn't remember why. Something wet dropped onto his forehead, and he grinned with his eyes still closed, "Not now Jess, I'm too tired. We can fool around in the morning."

There was no response, just another drip, and suddenly everything clicked into place in his mind and his eyes flew open. Above him, Jessica was pinned to the ceiling, blood dripping, and the room burst into flames. Terrified and suddenly very sober, Sam screamed and froze for a split second before reaching into his pocket for his phone. The room was quickly enveloped in flames and he barely had time to grab a shirt and back out of the room as the fire spread from the ceiling to the walls, the curtains, the floor, the bed. He hysterically called 911, panicked and sobbing, and as soon as the dispatcher confirmed paramedics and fire were en route, Sam hung up, taking a few deep breaths and dialing the number of someone who could actually do something to help.

Amanda had been driving for nearly an hour and a half when she felt pressure building up inside her skull, the lights outside blurring for a moment and a general unease overpowering her. She must have made a distressed noise or something, because her vision darkened for a split second and the next thing she was aware of was Dean yelling at her to pull over. She quickly obeyed, jumping out of the car as soon as it had stopped and pacing the length of the vehicle that was practically their home.

"What the fuck?!" Dean shouted, getting out of the car and grabbing her by the shoulders, "Mandy, what's going on?"

She pulled out of his grasp, her breath coming in short gasps as she gave into the panic she was feeling. She pulled slightly at her hair, making more sounds of distress that were eventually cut off by coughing as she lost the battle to regulate her breathing in an appropriate fashion. Bile burned her throat, but she refused to give in, and instead she continued to pace around the car until she felt too dizzy to continue.

"Amanda!"

The phone rang from inside the car and she immediately leaned over and vomited onto the ground, overwhelmed with emotion and knowing that this was the call they've been dreading. By the time Dean had finished talking just moments later, she had vomited twice more, her heart fluttering and her breath wheezy as she continued to give in to the panic attack that had taken over. She could feel and hear the blood rushing through her ears and she felt jittery and unsteady. Dean wanted answers, but how could she explain what was happening to him when she couldn't really understand it herself? Memories that didn't belong to her flashed before her eyes, snapshots of what had just happened with Sam and Jessica. She didn't need anyone to tell her that they had been wrong, that they had lost Sam's girlfriend, she just knew. She could feel Sam's anguish mixing with her own panic. What was happening? She and Sam had always been close and always sensitive and sympathetic to each other's pain, but this was a whole new level of strange.

"Woah, you okay?" Dean asked, appearing by her side and taking in the sight of his sister, pale and shaking and surrounded by sickness, "We need to go. Are you okay to go?"

Amanda shook her head, then nodded. Tears stung her eyes as she looked up at Dean, "I don't know. I'm so scared."

"Talk to me." His order wasn't harsh or demanding, but comforting and quiet, and he reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. They needed to get to Sam, but if she wasn't ready to get back on the road...the car was a classic, after all, he didn't want any damage done to the upholstery.

Amanda took a deep breath, then exhaled, still light headed and not sure she was done puking, but she did her best to comply with Dean's questioning, "I don't know what's happening. My head hurts. I saw...something...Jess and Sam and the fire." she pushed her hands against the sides of her head forcefully, trying to make the throbbing stop, "God, it hurts. I could feel Sam-like, his thoughts and emotions and everything while it happened. I've never had anything like this happen before."

"You and Sam have always had a weird bond." Dean reasoned, "Maybe it's just something stronger because this is so much bigger than anything you've ever experienced?"

"I could feel the heat from the fire. I can almost taste the tequila he was drinking...I mean, tequila!? How do I even know what he was drinking?...We need to get to him."

Dean agreed, but wasn't about to get back into the car until he was sure his sister was going to be alright. He squeezed her shoulder again, trying to be reassuring because he could tell she needed it, "We will. We're going to get him and take care of him and get to the bottom of this. But before we do, I need to know that you aren't going to freak out in the car again."

He leapt out of the way as she suddenly lurched forward and was sick again, and narrowed his gaze, trying to work out this puzzle that was invading their lives at the worst moment possible. Once she was finished, he reached out and placed a hand on her forehead.

"I'm fine."

"My boots aren't." Dean said distastefully, reaching into the trunk for a bottle of water and pouring them over his shoes which had been in the line of fire, "And you're not fine. This is actually what the opposite of fine looks like."

"We need to get to Sam."

"We need for you to not puke in my car."

"I won't."

Dean raised an eyebrow, taking in his sister's pale and sweaty face, and asked skeptically, "You should take a hard look in the mirror and then tell me that again."

"I'm sorry."

"Well don't apologize, it's not like you can control it." Dean huffed, seeming annoyed but Amanda knew him well enough to know that was just worry disguised by anger, "Have you ever heard of anything like this? Is there someone we should call?"

"No. But we really need to go, Sam needs us. We can worry about this later." Amanda took the water bottle from Dean, pouring the last little bit into her mouth, swishing it around and spitting it out onto the ground. She grabbed the plastic grocery bag that Dean had gotten the bottle from and shoved it into her pocket, "Now you don't have to worry about your car. You drive, let's go."

Dean made a face, but couldn't deny that they did need to get back on the road and that his car would be protected if she was lying about feeling better. With one last worried glance, he got into the car, pushing the gas pedal as hard as he could when they pulled back out onto the highway, traffic laws be damned. His baby brother needed him and there was no time to waste.