I kind of had two main aims in mind when I started this; firstly, not screwing with the 'feel' of the show (don't worry, no bratty teenagers here!) and secondly presenting it like it might be done in an episode.

It's set (for anyone who cares) early season 2, so Adam does not 'exist' at this point which I hope makes John look a little less like some crazed sex-maniac!

Anyway, on with the show and as always...enjoy!

An Introduction.

They'd been gone from Bobby's for less than five days when he'd called and asked them to return again, the contact sooner than their usual custom allowed except for in the case of emergencies.

"What's wrong Bobby?" Sam had asked in concern, brow wrinkling in the passenger seat as he tried to make out the older hunter's voice over the growl of the Impala. Dean had shot him a quick glance from behind the wheel, trying to interpret the conversation based on his brother's expression. Cluelessness hadn't helped him much.

"What?" he'd fired off the second Sam had disconnected the call, waiting for orders. Sam had seemed puzzled, his voice caught part way between amused and thoughtful,

"He uh…wants us to go back,"

Dean had frowned, senses flicking to high alert,

"He got trouble?"

"No," Sam had shook his head, "Didn't sound like it."

"Then what's he want us back for?"

"I've no idea."

Their combined confusion had not stopped them from turning the car around however, tracking back along the well worked highway and aiming for the increasingly familiar surroundings of Bobby's lot, which after a lengthy absence was starting to feel like a home from home once more. Especially since the loss of their father had shrunk their numbers to two and rendered them without a base other than wherever the hell the Impala was parked. Bobby and his shabby lodgings gave them roots, not to mention a gruff kind of affection that was as amusing as it was touching. They could have been chasing the abominable snowman himself across the Arctic Circle and they'd still have turned around in an instant if he'd called and asked them to.

As the Impala drew to a halt across the dusty ground however, the throaty roar of the mechanics being replaced with the sporadic clicking of the cooling metal, the brothers couldn't help but share an uncertain glance, the curiosity as much of a lure as the request itself.

"So," muttered Dean in hushed tones as his younger brother fell into step alongside him, "What do you think's going on?"

"I don't know,"

He had some sort of idea though, they both did although it had gone unspoken on the drive. It had been a mere matter of months since John had died and for Bobby to call them so abruptly and with such severity in his voice both boys' thoughts had instantly flown in one direction.

"You think…" Dean paused awkwardly, watching Sam's gaze swing briefly towards him, "You think he's found dad? Found something, a way to get him back maybe?"

Sam sighed slowly, hating the way Dean seemed so optimistic.

"I – ," he stopped, struggling to find the words and desperate not to crush Dean's hopes, "I guess anything's possible."

Although to him that seemed a stretch too far.

Together they mounted the porch in silence, Dean leading the way as he twisted the handle and let himself in across the floorboards, boots stamping loudly in the silence.

"Bobby?" he yelled as Sam filtered in behind him and they hovered side by side on the threshold.

Nothing. Sam's turn to try,

"Bobby?"

As his shout echoed cautiously off the walls they were rewarded by the sight of the older hunter rushing hastily into the room, shutting the door behind him and holding up his hands in a desperate appeal,

"Keep it down will ya?" he snapped in a half-whisper before letting his brow crumple in disgruntled annoyance, "You two're enough to wake the dead."

His tone caught them by surprise and obediently both fell into a silence of renewed confusion. Dean spread his hands wide, waiting a beat before speaking but managing to keep his voice low,

"What's going on?"

Turning to look at them properly for the first time since their arrival, Bobby heaved a sudden sigh, reaching up a hand to scratch his forehead and ducking under the brim of his cap as he did.

"You'd better sit," he instructed wearily, waving a hand towards the chairs but neglecting to take one himself. Sam did as bidden, Dean stayed standing.

"Bobby?"

He gazed back at them doubtfully, one hand playing absently with the stubble at his chin as he contemplated how best to begin,

"You boys ever heard of a Laurie Calloway?" he asked eventually, eyes flicking between them for recognition. Before him the boys shared a similar look, Sam answering for them.

"No. Why?"

Letting out a long sigh Bobby swept a hand across his face, whatever was on his mind was clearly killing him. Dean and Sam's expressions both simultaneously darkened as Bobby shook his head,

"I didn't want to have to be the one to tell you boys, really I didn't. Me and your dad both hoped you'd never have to find out but…"

Dean's expression hardened again visibly at the mention of John, sensing some looming Winchester crisis instead of the happy family reunion he'd been hoping for. Whatever Bobby had for them, it wasn't something that was going to bring their dad back.

"Find out what?" he repeated sharply, gaze speaking volumes. Just tell us already. The look prompted another long sigh,

"Laurie Calloway was a woman your dad and me rescued in Pittsburgh nearly six years back," as he spoke he slowly lowered himself into the chair behind his book-stacked desk, clearly resigned enough with the re-telling to take it easy, "Sam, you'd just gone off to college and your brother here was busy working his way through every showgirl in Vegas…"

"Oh yeah," came the quirky grin of absent recognition from Dean, "Good times."

Bobby staunchly ignored him.

"Me and your dad were working a haunting in this up-market lounge bar place," he waved his hand as he spoke, a gesture that the terminology or even appeal of such places was beyond him. Sam frowned,

"A haunting in a lounge bar?"

Bobby snorted,

"Yeah well, think Phantom of the Opera and you're not far off," as Sam blinked in surprise Bobby took another deep breath aware that he was straying from the topic, "Anyhow, Laurie was the singer, cabaret-act or whatever you want to call it and since the spirit had taken something of a liking to her we used her as bait to draw it out."

"Did it work?" Sam asked, trying to guess where the story was going as he sensed Dean's frustration growing.

"Yeah it worked," Bobby replied in a tone that bordered on what, do you think we're stupid? "If anything it worked too well, thing would've taken Laurie with him had John not saved her," he sighed again, "I saw it then and I warned him too, I told him – ,"

"Told him what?" urged Dean tersely.

"Not to get involved."

"With the spirit?"

"With Laurie," Sam replied, guessing the next sentence before Bobby spoke it. The look on the older hunter's face told him he'd hit the nail square on the head and a flicker of what was to come briefly dawned on him. Dean however was still struggling,

"Laurie?" he repeated, sounding disgusted, "You mean dad and her – ?" he trailed off, hurt echoing across every last inch of his face. Hurt and fury, "He cheated on mom?"

For a while no one spoke, each of them pondering the statement with varying degrees of empathy. To everyone but Dean it seemed something of a strange statement, but then again everyone but Dean only knew Mary as a name. Of all three of them he was only one with any actual memories of her and so of the three of them his eyes were the only ones that registered John's actions as a betrayal. It didn't matter that Mary had been dead and so technically it wasn't anything like an affair. It was what it was.

"No. Bobby no."

Both faces turned to look at him, Sam taking in the scowl and the darkening cloud in his eyes with a sympathetic sigh. As far as his older brother was concerned, Mary Winchester was the Holy Grail and neither her name nor her memory were to be screwed around with. Bobby was doing both and although Dean knew the hunter would never lie to him, he was damned if he was going to stand by and let both of his parents get sullied.

"Dad wouldn't do that," he continued, speaking slowly as he tried to get a handle on his emotions, his entire tone shot-through with conviction, "He loved mom – ,"

"Well of course he did," Bobby interrupted, eyes glistening as he struggled to watch Dean's pain and balance it with his own guilt, "He loved your mother and you boys more'n I've ever seen a man love anything. But…" he paused helplessly, "But your daddy was a human being too boy, he needed the same things we all need and he and Laurie just…"

As Bobby again began to flounder with the burden of the tale, Sam's eyes flickered sideways towards Dean, watching the unshed tears starting to shine at the bottom of his lids, the face still dark with anger. He looked so lost, so childlike. He wasn't going to cry though, he was too furious to cry. Furious with Bobby sure, but mostly he was furious with their dad and that in itself was something almost completely alien to him. In Dean's eyes their dad had been the one guy on earth who couldn't put a foot wrong, he'd messed up sure, but he was still Dean's hero. Always had been. Fallacy had never factored into it, nor had betrayal.

Bobby swallowed down his emotion and tried again,

"The two of them filled a need for each other. It wasn't love, wasn't anything like that, it was about being normal."

"How long?" he didn't even bother to look up, too busy trying to contain the need to put his fist through something.

"Just the one time. We packed up and left the next morning."

Taking a steadying breath and trying to work out whether his emotion came from the story or watching Dean, Sam blinked and sat up a little straighter in his seat, seeing a gaping hole emerging where information should have been.

"So, why are you telling us this Bobby?"

His father's having had a one-night stand here and there wasn't exactly something he'd ever thought about, but faced with the bare facts it didn't particularly surprise him either. Then again he'd never seen their dad as the demigod Dean had and so therefore felt the fall from grace a lot less acutely. Abruptly Bobby sighed again, shifting awkwardly in his chair and Sam shared a look with his brother, a pit of dread growing in each one of them. There was more.

"Because…because that's not where this whole sorry mess ends. I wish it was,"

"Well stop wishing and talk already!" Dean growled in his most feral of tones. Bobby let his usual admonition pass by, the growing aggression only serving to make him feel worse about what he was doing to them. He should never have kept John Winchester's damned secret in the first place, although there he went again, wishing.

"Dean," Sensing the mounting tension Sam stepped in with a gentle prompt, his voice briefly capturing his brother's attention and his expression doing the rest. It's not Bobby's fault. Calm down. His response was a long sigh and Dean's shoulders slumping in defeat. Sam turned back to the older hunter, eyes alive with concern but his tone even, "What else?"

Gaze flicking between them cautiously, Bobby paused, steeling himself for what was to come. It wasn't going to be pretty and no matter how he tried to wrap it up it was going to go for them like a punch to the gut. Best to just get it out in the open,

"Laurie…" God help him, "Laurie got pregnant."

"She what?" asked Dean, blinking once in amazement and tilting his head forward as if he'd misheard. He hadn't.

"Laurie got pregnant."

Abruptly, Dean needed a seat, flopping into the chair beside Sam so heavily that it made his brother start, twisting around in sudden worry that he'd passed out from the shock. Dean frowned back at him, I'm not a girl dude, I'm still here. Just. When he spoke again Sam's voice sounded small and hoarse,

"What happened to the baby?" Although he wasn't sure he wanted to know. It was an awful thing to admit but part of him was desperately hoping for Bobby to say miscarriage. It would at least have spared Dean and he of another almighty upheaval to their small and dysfunctional-enough-as-it-was family unit. He wasn't entirely sure they had the strength for anything else, not after what they'd been through.

Bobby obviously knew it to, because his whole face was the picture of compassion as he answered, not so much responding to Sam's question as quietly providing the bare facts.

"Little girl, healthy, no complications."

"And…" as Dean continued to sit in silence, Sam struggled to wrap his head around the new information, trying to plot the time line in his head and place him, Dean and their father into position upon it, "…and dad?"

It sounded a simple enough question in itself but they all knew what he really meant by it. Where was dad? What did he do? What happened to them? Briefly Bobby broke eye contact to glance down at his hands, although whether from sorrow or anger neither could tell.

"Laurie didn't tell him. She couldn't, had no way of reaching him. By the time he did find out…" he shrugged hopelessly, skipping part of the narrative as he instead attempted to explain John's thought pattern, "Laurie had a good life set up for them, they had a routine, enough money to get by…your dad just didn't want to get in the way of that. Thought it was best for everyone if he just left well enough alone,"

"What he should have done in the first place," Dean muttered darkly, watching as Sam sat forward in bewildered amazement,

"But why didn't he tell us Bobby?" he paused, swallowing back his uncertainty as a bubble of hurt began to swell inside of him, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"Don't you think I wanted to?!" the hunter all-but snapped back at them, the fact that some of the guilt lay on his shoulders clearly weighing on him heavily as he blinked back the moisture newly gathering in the corner of his eyes, "Hell I wanted to tell you boys from the beginning but your dad…" he tailed off in defeat, slumping back against the seat and shaking his head. When he continued his voice was quieter again, "Why do you think I drove him out of here with a shotgun? Huh?"

The big fight, suddenly it all seemed to make sense.

"…because he wouldn't tell you what was happening and because he made me promise not to tell you either," suddenly he sounded angry, reliving the argument in his head and feeling the emotions rising all over again, "Well I could keep his secret all right, but I didn't have to see him again and I couldn't bare to see you boys knowing that I – ,"

He stopped abruptly, words seemingly not doing justice to his feelings and instead letting a strange silence do all the work. Finally Sam sighed,

"So, you're telling us we have a sister out there? Somewhere?"

"Five years old. Name's Morgan."

From across the room Dean fixed him with a suspiciously dark stare,

"And you know this how?"

"Well someone had to keep an eye on them!" Bobby replied hotly, as if he'd been accused of somehow conspiring with the enemy, "And since your dad didn't have the mind to do it…" he tailed off again, shaking his head as he realised that criticisms of John under the circumstances were probably not the best way to go. He let loose a bitter laugh, "Just as well I did too,"

"Why?" Dean shot back quickly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Bobby gazed up at them sadly,

"Laurie's dead,"

"What!" despite the fact he didn't know her and had only known about her for less than five minutes, the news still came as a shock to Sam, Dean too judging by the ripple of surprise that flashed across his face, "When? How?"

"Three months ago. Fire."

The word sent shivers down their spines and instantly Sam felt his mouth go dry.

"Fire?"

"Hold on a minute," for once it was Dean thinking laterally, his brow creased as he ran the information over in his head, "You said the kid was five. If the fire happened three months ago then – ,"

"So it wasn't the demon?" Sam finished quickly, looking to Bobby in hope. The older hunter shrugged, unable to help.

"Honestly? I don't know."

Dean blinked,

"What do you mean you don't know? I thought you were keeping an eye on them?!"

"I was, from a distance. Word-of-mouth, that sort of thing. Got a call from a friend of mine just after you boys left here last time. He'd been down Pittsburgh way and heard there'd been a fire. I don't know exactly what happened."

"Any clues at the house?" Sam pressed urgently, "Any idea why the fire started?"

"It didn't start in the house," Bobby replied with a sigh, "It started in Laurie."

"What?" the frown creasing into a veritable gully of confusion, Dean stepped forward arms folded across his chest and disbelief in his eyes, "What do you mean it started in her?"

"Spontaneous human combustion. She just…went up in flames one day sitting in the car."

Dean snorted,

"Sounds pretty demonic to me Bobby." Horrific too, it sounded horrific. Beside him, face pale with shock, Sam swallowed, running a tongue across dry lips and hating himself for wanting to know the answer to the question he had to ask next,

"What about the girl, what about Morgan?"

His eyes were fixed squarely on Bobby, but as he sat forward he could see Dean's head tilt in his direction. He didn't need to look back to know what expression his brother would be wearing. Same as his; cautious desperation. Bobby's gaze didn't falter,

"She was waiting for her mother to pick her up from kindergarten. Saw the car – crossed three lanes of traffic to get there – and, well, luckily for her some passer-by stopped her from seeing the worst of it."

Sam stifled a sigh, biting down hard on his lip as he tried to imagine the little girl's emotions, the confusion and the pain. Suddenly he realised he didn't need to, all he needed to do was look at Dean. Strange as it was when he'd been Morgan's age he'd been through almost exactly the same thing. Dean realised it too, they all did and the sudden speed with which he turned away from them confirmed that time did not make things any easier.

"Is she okay? What happened to her?" Sam asked quietly, watching Bobby's eye flicker sideways to where Dean had risen from his chair and gone to stand beside the window.

"Well, until three days ago she was with welfare services,"

Sam frowned,

"Welfare services? Why?"

"Laurie was an only child, her parents died in a head-on when she was in her twenties. Her mother was a Ukrainian-born immigrant and her father only had one brother, who is currently in an oncology ward somewhere in Ohio undergoing intensive chemotherapy and so drugged up to the eyeballs he wouldn't recognise his own reflection.... safe to say his prognosis is not good. So, as far as relatives go?" he paused suddenly taking a long breath and looking up to fix them both with a solemn gaze, "You're about all that little girl has left."

They saw what he was doing, saw it in an instant and Dean for one was not having it. He was notbeing guilt-tripped into something so monumental. Something so monumentally stupid. Neither of them were.

"No."

Bobby peered at him

"No?"

"No!" Dean barked, the word bouncing off the walls as a dangerous ferocity began to glint in his eyes, "Don't do this, don't you do this to us Bobby. We do not have time to deal with this, we can't."

Meaning he couldn't. Sam looked across at him sombrely, voice quiet,

"Dean – ,"

"I mean first dad and now this? How much more crap do we have to deal with?" he was looking at Bobby as he spoke, appealing for some sort of reprieve. The older hunter would've done anything to give it to him.

"Her mother burnt to death," he stressed gently, vocally underlining the screamingly obvious element of the supernatural. He didn't have a better argument than that.

"So what do you want us to do?" Dean countered, arms out wide, "We've got bigger problems Bobby. Hell, demons kill people all the time, okay? This kid is just another victim,"

"She's a Winchester,"

"No," Dean repeated again with a growl, pointing across the room in warning, "No she's not."

"Not in name boy, but she sure is in blood and tell me, when was the last time something accidental just happened to one of your family?"

"Bobby – ,"

He was starting to break through, he could just see it, the fringes of Dean's conscience creeping in. He tried again,

"She's got nobody else."

The moment Dean's eyes hardened Bobby knew he'd pushed it just a fraction too far,

"I'm sorry about the kid's mom. Really, I am," Dean began quietly, and no one doubted him, "But we're not doing this."

"Was?" As Sam's voice interrupted the tension with a confused tone to his question, the other two turned to look at him, neither following the new direction of the conversation. Sam blinked, "You said she was with child services…" Dean cottoned on instantly, slowly looking towards Bobby with growing horror, "…where is she now?"

Abruptly Bobby's gaze shifted to an awkward spot somewhere beside his feet and he took a deep breath as Dean's voice drifted hesitantly across the room, the anger driven away by pure shock.

"You didn't. Bobby tell me you didn't – ,"

He already knew the answer, they both did and as the silence grew palpable Bobby blinked a couple of times, rose from his chair and slowly headed for the door leading out of the room. Both men watched him in silence, Sam's expression forlorn and Dean's so full of mixed anger and frustration that he looked about as vulnerable was Bobby had ever seen him. Ignoring them was among the hardest things he'd ever had to do, but he'd gone too far to back out. There was no turning back and so slowly he reached for the handle, twisting it in his fingers until it creaked and inching the door open just a fraction.

"Sweetie," he called, trying to sound light despite the situation and his usual countenance, "Could you come here a minute?"

He stepped back into the room in silence, steadfast in his refusal to make eye contact. Nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody even blinked. It was like Medusa had strolled through and turned them all into inanimate statues as she'd gone. But that was the point, nobody did anything because nobody knew exactly what to do. So they stood and they waited.

The sound of tiny footsteps padding slowly across carpet brought the initial reaction, Dean sharing a look with Sam before both of them twisted their heads towards the doorway, trying to catch a glimpse of what lay on the other side, some sort of warning before it stepped in amongst them and they couldn't turn back.

As it turned out she beat them both to it, their first sighting of her arriving in the shape of five little fingers wrapping hesitantly around the doorknob, followed by half-a-face around the corner. A hazel eye and one side of a head of straight brown hair were their first partial glimpse of Bobby's house guest. She was tiny and obviously frightened. Bobby's face softened as her eyes found out his and he crossed the distance towards her, one hand outstretched,

"Come on now," he smiled, his typically gruff tone lightening just a fraction, "Don't be shy," the toe of a small shiny boot slid into view in a hesitant shuffle across the carpet as he spoke, exposing the hem of a denim dress and a thick cardigan, "That's it."

As a delicate little hand reached out Bobby took it up firmly in big calloused fingers and gently pulled her the whole way into the room until she stood pressed against the front of his legs looking at the strangers before her. Her gaze dropped shyly, bottom lip sucked in across her teeth and one finger nervously rubbing concentric circles against the stomach of a stuffed rabbit that was well-loved enough to have at some point lost an ear. She looked so out of place in the run-down, thrift-store, library-style surroundings of Bobby's house that for a moment neither Sam nor Dean could adequately process her existence.

As the awkward silence continued to reign Bobby cleared his throat, hands coming down to rest gently on the girl's shoulders,

"Morgan, these are the boys I was telling you about," he began with hesitation, his cheerful air fooling no one, "Your…your brothers."

Dean's frown darkened in an instant as the older hunters' eyes found out his in a horrific sort of I'm sorry, I had to tell her kind of way. They both knew what it meant, he was leaving them no room to back out and suddenly Dean felt the anger flare up to replace his shock again. Sure the kid was sweet-looking enough, her head tipping upwards in just enough curiosity for her to take in their faces through her long-brown hair, but she was just that. A kid. What in the hell were they supposed to do with a kid? He could think of nothing and the fact that he was having too blackened his mood tenfold. He was just about ready to snap.

Finding nothing but unswerving ferocity in Dean's expression, Bobby instead swung his gaze towards Sam, still sitting in the chair hands resting across his knees and mouth hanging partly open in utter shock. He appealed to him desperately, watching as the brown eyes lifted in a slow daze from the little girl's face into his. Come on son, he pleaded, at least for her sake just say something! Anything!

Sam ran a tongue across dry lips, contemplating the request and unable to keep his gaze from slipping back to Morgan again. He was looking at their sister. Holy crap! It was too weird…and yet Bobby was right, whatever he and Dean thought of events there was no point taking any of it out on a child, especially one who'd been through as much as she had and was obviously lost and petrified. Swallowing down the feeling that he wanted to be sick, Sam shifted forwards lowering himself ever so gently off the edge of the chair and crossing the few steps between himself and Bobby in a half-crouch. He could practically feel Dean's gaze burning a hole in the back of his jacket but he kept his eyes fully forward.

"Hi Morgan," he began softly when he was about a foot away, trying to smile but tripping over the girl's name as it stuck on his tongue like a lead weight. Like a burden. He pushed it aside, "I'm Sam."

He was rewarded by the hazel eyes flashing up towards his again briefly, the bottom lip slowly slipped away from the teeth and the head straightened itself further, hair falling away from her face as her grip on the rabbit tightened to a fearful death hold. He swallowed again, never turning his head but raising a hand to point behind him towards the window,

"This is my brother Dean…" he trailed off as he realised he had nothing left to say, the room falling into awkward silence once more with the exception of Bobby sighing somewhere above him.

Eventually however and in a move so slight he almost missed it, Morgan nodded her head. Just once, but a vague form of greeting and hesitant acceptance rolled into one. He smiled instantly, feeling like he'd just completed a marathon and was rewarded in kind by a smile from Morgan, still shy but friendly none the less. In fact, so Hallmark was the moment fast becoming that Sam barely registered Dean's groan of disgust until Bobby was stepping away from Morgan, a name on his lips in warning and worry,

"Dean – ,"

As Morgan stumbled backwards, Bobby's comforting wall of legs gone from behind her, Sam reached out and wrapped a hand around her back, righting her but not getting too close. It surprised him how instinctual a move it was and then abruptly realised he had bigger concerns. Dean. The realisation came as if someone was grabbing a handful of his gut in sharp fingers and he spun quickly to the spot his brother had been occupying just moments before. It was empty.

"Dean!"

He scrambled to his feet quickly, heart pounding. It was an irrational fear at best, but suddenly he felt consumed by the enormity of what they had just been presented with and not being able to see his older brother made him feel more lost and alone than he was willing to admit.

Bobby was standing in the doorway, bright light spilling in from outside as he called across the porch, out into the dusty surroundings beyond.

"Don't do this son," he was pleading, still not able to muster up the severity of his usual tone, "That girl needs you!"

"Forget it Bobby," came the reply as Sam sprinted to the door and tumbled out into the fresh air beyond. His heart almost gave out in relief at the familiar face that stared back at him, Dean standing at the driver's side door with the arm of a leather-clad jacket leaning against the gleaming roof, "I didn't sign on for this, all right?" he was at breaking point, "I didn't sign on for dad dying, I didn't sign on for mom…" he paused briefly to compose himself, "I didn't sign on for Sam being able to see shit in his head and I sure as hell didn't sign on for some kid."

Monologue over he flung open the door, peering upwards,

"Come on Sam."

Instantly his younger brother's face crumpled,

"What? Dea – ,"

"I said come on!" It was no longer an order, it was a shout, loud and angry as it echoed across the expanse of land about them. Sam took a long deep breath. Over the years he'd worked his diplomacy on Dean a number of times with varying success. This time it needed to work.

"No," he replied quietly, one hand out in a let me explain gesture as his brother's eyes snapped up to meet his in surprise, "Dean, listen – ,"

"You're buying this crap?" came the snap of disbelief followed by a humourless snort, "What? You want to play Mr. Mom?"

"Dean – ,"

"Fine Sam, have it your way," and then before either one of them could say another word Dean had climbed into the car and slammed the door shut. The engine roared into life seconds later and Sam abruptly felt his stomach lurch. He started towards the car instantly, hand outstretched towards the handle, trying to get him to stop only to find the gleaming bodywork slide past him like a flash of anger. As he looked up Dean shot him a final look through the window and the hurt and betrayal he saw in the expression made him stop dead. He'd betrayed Dean as well, except he hadn't, never would but that didn't matter because that was how Dean saw it.

The Impala roared off across the dirt, clouds of dust billowing out from under the wheels. Sam watched it go feeling broken, barely noticing as Bobby stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder.

"He won't have gone far boy," he offered solemnly, "Just be blowing off steam at a bar someplace."

"I know."

Of everything he'd been told since stepping foot in Bobby's front room that morning, that was the one thing Sam already knew. Dean wouldn't leave him, not like that. Bail on Morgan? Well that was entirely possible – especially given the immense and hurtful proportions of their father's new found secrecy – but bailing on him? That was just never going to happen.

He sighed heavily, resisting the urge to scream, to put his fist through something, to run off after the Impala and just jump in pretend like things had never happened and drive like hell. Unfortunately none of those things were options at all and instead he turned slowly to follow Bobby into the house, casting one last look over his shoulder as he went.

He'd give Dean a couple of hours to cool off and then go after him before he got too drunk.

Everything would be all right.

It had to be.

So there it is. How'd I do?

Technically it's supposed to be a one-shot, that's what I intended it to be anyway, but partly through boredom and for my own piece of mind I did write another three chapters just to round things off. If anyone's particularly interested then I'm happy to post them but otherwise I sort of like the cliffie-ness as is - although that's probably just me trying to be edgy!