Title: The Concerned Mother

A/N: I heard about this and just had to write it, please forgive me, it's 3 in the morning. I got this idea from a story I heard while I was camping! Seriously…I just inserted the boys

It had to be at least three in the morning, the scenery that was flying by meshed from woods to highway and back again. Sam was leaning back in his seat, trying desperately to be asleep. He really wanted to rest, he really did, but the sandman must have a grudge against the Winchester family.

Dean had his music up as loud as it could go, but when he saw Sam trying, in vain to sleep he toned it down a few notches. Sam tried not to laugh at his brother's indirect show of affection, but in his head he was grateful that Ozzy Osbourne could finally stop yelling at him.

He nodded off to that place between the waking world and dreams. Everything seemed softer somehow, more pleasant. The world, the things they faced, they all became easier to face in this cloud. Sam knew that this feeling wouldn't last for long, eventually he had to face his tumultuous dreams, and one angry sandman.

The softness faded and the harsh lines of nightmares sliced in, everything seemed so real, too real. He was sitting in the Impala, his eyes were closed, and the usual music was drifting out of the speakers. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but his head hurt and he didn't know why. He struggled to open his eyes, and found it harder to do so then he expected. When he did he felt something warm running down his forehead. He lifted his hand to it and brought it in front of his dizzy eyes. It was blood, the smell of it was everywhere, and it was making Sam sick. Only then did he realize what had happened to his brother's beloved car. The Impala was crushed, completely smashed between two formidable looking eighteen wheelers one from behind and one in the front. It was as if they had intentionally crushed the brothers. Beating the life out of them, and enjoying it. Sam moaned in pain and scanned the interior for Dean. All he saw was a hand lying limply on the steering wheel. Panic rose in his chest and he forced his aching body to sit up, he saw Dean's crumpled body in the seat, blood was everywhere. Oh, God no. There was glass in his hair blood and dirt smeared on his face, his entire lower body wasn't visible, and Sam nearly threw up when he realized why. It wasn't attached; Dean's torso and legs lay on the floor a good foot away from the rest of him, his one foot still desperately pushing the gas, as if he could drive away from this still. Sam wanted to look away but Dean's lifeless eyes held his gaze and as he felt himself let out a shaky sigh, he couldn't help but think that he would be the dead one, if only Dean had let him drive…

"Sam!" That voice brought him back from the dream, and Dean's face was the most welcome sight he could have seen. It was going to be alright, his brother was there, he knew that Dean wouldn't leave, wouldn't die like that. Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes. The car had slowed to a crawl on deserted asphalt. Dean had one hand on the wheel and the other on Sam's shoulder, a curious look on his face.

"What?" Sam grunted forcing himself to sit back up in his chair. It was still dark out, the first hints of light still trapped behind the horizon. He looked out the window and all he saw was road. A slight shiver went up his spine, but he forced it back down and turned his gaze to where his brother was pointing through the windshield. There, on their left was a wreck. It was horrific; the little red sedan was wrapped around a tree. The front end was completely mutilated, and glass littered the ground around it. Both of the back tires were flat, and all of the windows had shattered. The doors and almost all of the rest of the car's body were crumpled like tinfoil.

Standing next to the car was a hysterical woman. How she had made it out of the vehicle Sam couldn't fathom. There was a long cut running from her hairline to her chin that was oozing blood. Her gray skirt and white top was blotched in various spots with a nauseating brownish substance. Her eyes were wild as she jumped up and down, trying to flag the boys down. Sam nodded and Dean pulled in about five feet from the former family car. Right away the woman ran over, she was breathing hard, tears soaking her cheeks, causing the blood on her face to run down her neck in streaks of red.

"Please, my baby!" She cried, pounding her fists on the car window frantically. Dean immediately jumped out, Sam followed a bit more slowly, it took him a few seconds to fully comprehend what was going on. He missed what the woman said to Dean, but the look on his brother's face was hard to ignore.

"Where?" Dean asked and the woman turned to him letting out a shaky sob.

"In the back seat!" She wailed falling to her knees, her head in her hands. The brothers exchanged looks.

"Sam, you stay with her… I'll see if I can get the tyke out" Dean said casting a sympathetic glance towards the grieving mother and an apprehensive one towards the wreckage. Neither one of them expected the little baby to make it out alive. Sam knelt down beside the woman and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she was so cold.

"How did this happen?" He asked and the woman didn't lift her head, she just sobbed, her answer inaudible through the tears. Sam sighed and his gaze drifted over to Dean and the car.

He had wrenched open what was left of the back left door. It was hanging by a single hinge and was badly crumpled; things didn't look good for the baby. Dean's head disappeared through the door, his hands fumbling around in the dark interior. He finally touched something soft; it was the plush lining of a car seat. Please be alive. He couldn't tell if the little form in the seat was breathing and a dead baby was not something Dean wanted to deal with.

He felt his way to the buckle of the car seat and unlatched it carefully. It was still in place, and to his delight he heard a small coo. The baby seemed to be in a protected circle of the car, the only part of the sedan that hadn't been completely destroyed. It was like a womb of protection, or some sort of force field had encased the little thing. He felt the clothes of the tiny baby, and wrapped his hands around its slight body. He raised it ever so slowly out of the car, avoiding the glass and metal shards around him. He held it up in the pale moonlight and saw that it was a baby girl.

She had a few black curls on top of her little head, and the bluest eyes Dean had ever seen. He could feel her breathing and he let out a sigh of relief. It troubled him that she wasn't crying and he searched for any injuries on her. She was spattered with blood but he couldn't see a wound anywhere. Her eyes moved, but she still wasn't crying, poor thing must be in shock. He hoisted her into his arms, carrying her awkwardly back to the Impala like a tiny trophy.

Sam was standing there, leaning against the side of the shiny black car, his cell phone to his ear his eyes on the ground.

"Yes, that's right a car wreck…I don't know where exactly…yes…two people…okay, thank you." He finished the call and hung up. Dean raised his eyebrows, demanding an explanation with his look. "They traced my cell signal; an ambulance is on the way." Dean nodded and smirked in triumph,

"This one is still alive" he said holding out the girl to Sam, who took her and held her, like he knew exactly what to do. Dean rolled his eyes at his brothers mothering, and scanned the area for the real mother. "Where is she?" Dean asked and Sam's head snapped back up from the big blue eyed baby.

"Who?" Sam asked and Dean scoffed,

"The mother, wasn't she with you?" Sam whipped his head around but didn't see any sign of the injured woman.

"She was, I told her I was calling 911…she was here when I dialed." Dean felt a sinking sensation in his stomach; he had a feeling where this was going. He took a deep breath and headed back for the mangled car. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, as the soft wail of the approaching ambulance rang in his ears. But when he saw it he cringed. There, in the drivers seat was the bleeding, distorted corpse of the concerned mother, her eyes rolled back in her head, but there was a slight smile on her face.