There are days that suck, and there are days that suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

This was turning out to be the second kind.

I stalled as long as I could before we got on the road for Duluth. I took my time looking through the maps, ignoring Sam's instant-GPS skills telling me the quickest way to get there. I made myself a list of everything we possibly might need to get before we got on the open road. I double-checked the weapons.

And the oil.

And the laundry.

"Dean – please. Can we get going?" Sam asked. He'd patiently followed me all around the car, just like when we were kids and he wanted to nag me without saying anything out loud.

"Sam –" I really wanted to try one more argument against Duluth. "I really don't like this idea."

"But – Dean – you said we could go."

Sam was how old? Had survived how many years in hell? And here he was following me around, haranguing me like he was four and I'd promised him half my candy bar if he behaved.

"Fine. All right. Let's go."

We drove the local road for ten miles or so and got on the I-90 and drove for another 20 miles or so. Traffic was heavy but moving along, but as we neared the top of a hill, I could hear screeching tires and blaring horns and crashing cars, and I eased off the gas, figuring we were coming up to a bad accident.

Sure enough, we cleared the hill and not forty feet in front of us was two hundred feet of dead stop traffic. Beyond that, three vehicles were smashed and smoldering across both lanes of traffic.

I pulled off onto the grass shoulder and we got out of the car. People were going to be hurt, we could help until the fire department showed up.

"Do you hear that?" Sam asked. "Is that T-Bone?"

I listened and not too far off I could hear a dog barking. I wasn't well-versed in all dog voices, but it sounded a lot like our pizza-chomping friend from that morning.

"That looks like her minivan." I said, scanning the wreckage up ahead.

"Think she's hurt?"

"Let's find out."

We hurried down the shoulder towards the crash. The barking got louder. Like I said, I'm not a barking expert, but it sounded like it was getting angrier and more frantic.

It was T-Bone. There, at the crash site, T-Bone's Mom had gotten the worst of it. Drivers and passengers were getting out of the other two cars, but she was still strapped into her seat. Her nose was bloody, her eyes were glazed, her airbag was deployed and deflated, and T-Bone was between the front seats, snarling and barking and snapping anytime anybody put a hand near the door.

"They might have to shoot the dog…" some unhelpful person said, right next to her smashed window.

"The dog is only trying to protect her." Someone else said.

"Touch him and I'll kill you…" T-Bone's Mom threatened. She wasn't really in a position to do anything about anything, but points for trying.

Sam moved up to the window, carefully. T-Bone's barking and snarling got even more angry and frantic. Long trails of slobber shot from his mouth. I've been more than up close and personal with hell hounds and, right now, T-Bone was giving them a run for their money.

"Hey – uh – Miss?" Sam tried. "Can you hear me?"

Her glazed eyes focused on Sam briefly.

"Hey," she breathed out. "You got a piece of pizza you forgot to give T-Bone, or you trying to steal him? T-Bone, shush."

T-Bone didn't listen. He kept barking.

"Hey – my name is Sam. We're going to try and help you, okay? T-Bone -."

"Touch him and I will kill you."

"No, no. I wouldn't kill him. No. I just want to see if he'll calm down for me. Okay? I just want to let you know what's going on. Okay? I'm going to see if I can open the other door and get his attention so that you can get first aid. Okay?"

"He's a good dog."

"I know he is. He was a good dog when he was with us. I hope he'll remember me. I'm going to go around and try now, okay?"

"Okay."

Sam walked around the minivan and I walked with him.

"Uh – Sam? Remember, earlier, when you said T-Bone could rip my face off? He can rip your face off, too."

"He won't."

"How do you know?"

"Because I won't threaten him."

"Great – is he going to understand that?"

Sam didn't answer me. He tried the handle on the passenger door. It clicked open. He swept me behind himself – uh, excuse me? – with his arm before he opened the door all the way. He stayed behind it, out of the doorway, probably giving T-Bone a chance to get used to the door being open.

Poor T-Bone, he didn't know which way to look. He was dancing nervously in his tight spot between the front seats, throwing his head from one side of the minivan to the other, barking and slobbering and threatening all comers.

"T-Bone, shush." His Mom tried again, and again T-Bone didn't pay any attention.

Slowly, Sam eased himself around to the open doorway. I reach out and grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt just in case I needed to yank him into safety. He didn't comment; either he didn't notice, or he didn't mind.

"Hey, T-Bone." Sam started. T-Bone went ballistic. He lunged toward Sam, throwing his massive paws onto the passenger seat and barking with even more attitude, snapping his jaws wide with each slobbering bark, like he was trying to push his tonsils at Sam. I tugged on Sam's shirt, but Sam resisted and when T-Bone didn't move any closer, I eased up.

A little.

"Hey, T-Bone. Good boy, good boy." Sam put his hands up, palms out. He spoke in a kind of sing-song way. "Good boy, T-Bone. C'mon. C'mon, T-Bone. You remember me, right? Pizza guy? Remember, T-Bone? I won't hurt you, T-Bone. I won't hurt you. C'mon, T-Bone. I won't hurt you."

The spitting and barking and snapping slowed down into a deep, snarly growl that could've drilled through asphalt. T-Bone looked – if dog expressions could be compared to human expressions – like he wanted to believe Sam but couldn't risk it.

I still had hold of the back of Sam's shirt and when T-Bone's nose started twitching and he started sniffing, pushing his car-sized head towards Sam, I started tugging, but Sam wouldn't budge.

"Good boy, good boy." Sam said. He started to hold one hand out within chomping distance of those massive jaws.

"What the hell, Sam?" I whispered.

"It's okay." He whispered back. "He needs to trust me. He needs to recognize me."

"And you need that hand."

I started making plans for a tourniquet as Sam kept offering his hand to Cujo's angry cousin. One inch more and I was pulling Sam out of there.

But that one inch more and T-Bone suddenly snuffed a wet, gross, sneeze into Sam's hand then whined and wagged his tail.

"Good boy. Good boy, T-Bone. C'mon. C'mon out of there. C'mon."

Sam backed up and I backed up with him and T-Bone jumped over the passenger seat and onto the ground all in one graceful leap. Thank God his leash was still attached.

"What's he gonna do when he realizes you don't have any more pizza?" I asked.

"I'll feed him you."

I let go of Sam's shirt and he took hold of T-Bone's leash and led him away from the minivan and to the trees farther away on the shoulder. I stayed back to not crowd T-Bone and to reassure his Mom.

"Sam's got him." I told her. She nodded without turning her head to me.

"Rawhides in the glove compartment."

"Yeah, I'm more worried about you right now." I climbed in through the passenger door. "I'm Dean, I want to check you over, all right?" She nodded and I started assessing her. I checked her pulse and her breathing and that blood on her face.

"You a paramedic?"

"I'm a guy with a little brother who gets into trouble a lot."

"Why - he a dog-napper?" She asked, then squeezed her eyes shut in pain and panted through her teeth. Fortunately, right then I heard sirens approaching.

"Nobody touches T-Bone," she said again.

"Nobody will. I promise."

"My husband's on his way. He'll get T-Bone from you."

"Sammy'll take good care of him until then. How're you doing? Staying with me?"

"Paint my kitchen and I'm yours." She managed to joke through her clenched teeth.

I could hear a man's voice shouting, "Anne! Annie!" and then he was at the driver's window. "God – Annie – what happened? Are you all right?"

"I was going to Duluth, the tiles are in for the backsplash. The car in front of me just spun out, all of a sudden. I just – I couldn't –"

She started getting emotional then and I figured they could use privacy. I started to slide out.

"Rawhide." T-Bone's Mom reminded me, and told her husband. "They got T-Bone out of the car."

"I'm only worried about you." He said. I grabbed the rawhides and left the minivan.

Sam had T-Bone tied off to a sturdy tree trunk and the dog was barking non-stop again but it didn't have the ferocity of fear anymore. I tossed him the rawhides and for a while he split his time between chewing his snack and barking at the commotion going on as the paramedics swarmed his Mom's minivan.

"Her husband's here."

"Hope she'll be okay." Sam said.

"Yeah, or we've got a new traveling companion."

Sam hmpf'd and we stood there a while, watching the rescue and the line of jammed traffic that was being slowly funneled around the accident.

Suddenly T-Bone's barking changed, he strained at his leash, wagging his tail and jumping up like he was excited, staring across to his minivan. His father was coming towards us.

"T-Bone!"

He hurried over to the dog who barked and danced and snuffled and rubbed himself against the guy's legs so hard, he nearly pushed him over as the man grabbed him in a hug.

"How's your wife doing?" I asked.

"They're going to take her to the hospital to get checked out, but they say she'll be okay. They're getting her into the ambulance now."

He let go of T-Bone and stood up, facing Sam.

"My wife said you saved our dog."

Sam shook his head.

"I just got him out of the minivan. He wasn't hurt at all."

"T-Bone never would've let anyone near her. They would've shot him."

He bent down to scratch T-Bone's ear as the big dog kept snuffling and rubbing against his legs.

"He was our son's dog. He died last year. If we lost T-Bone too, I just – I don't think – "

Instead of finishing that thought, T-Bone's Dad held his hand out to shake Sam's hand.

"Thank you. You have no idea. Just – thank you."

He shook Sam's hand pretty hard and for a second I really thought he was going to give Sam a hug. But then a siren signaled that the ambulance was taking off and he untied T-Bone from the tree and started hurrying down the line of stuck traffic. He called, "Thank you," one last time over shoulder.

Beside me, Sam turned and sat down at the base of the tree T-Bone had been tied to. He looked worn out. I sat down next to him.

"Where'd you learn so much about dogs?"

"I don't know anything about dogs." He said it like he was surprised I asked.

"Then how'd you know how to get him out of the minivan?"

"I – uh –" He sounded embarrassed, but I couldn't think what he could be embarrassed about. "T-Bone was scared because she was hurt. And if she was hurt, there was nobody to protect him. He needed to feel safe."

I was about to ask how that wasn't knowing a lot about dogs but Sam shrugged and added,

"Y'know, I knew how he felt. I've felt that way a lot of times myself."

I didn't answer that. But I suddenly understood a lot more about my brother.

We watched the stopped traffic being redirected for a while.

"You did a good thing, saving T-Bone. You saved that whole family."

Sam nodded but didn't say anything.

"Guess heading to Duluth was a pretty good idea after all." I said.

The end.