A/N: Here's another story for you great people. Not part of my series Hunters and Guardians. After the trouble I had with the last installment of that, I decided, with Blue peanut M&M's help, that I needed to take a break from that. Had a major case of writer's block, which hopefully this fic did not suffer because of. Hoping you all enjoy the major Hurt Dean! Hurt Sam! and angst that this one offers. Again don't own 'em, just torturing them and breaking their spirits. I can return them to Kripke for counseling. I did put them on my Christmas list, though. Sadly, I don't think I've been good enough for Santa to come visit me.

Reviews are like Christmas presents. Enjoy!



Chapter 1

Daniel Holland was having a bad week. Here, as he sat in traffic in Portland everything he'd been through replayed in his head. He was a detective with a soon to be ex-wife, two kids that hated him, and as of today no job- thanks to the source that had fed him a bad tip and resulted in the death of a protected witness. Now he was stuck at one of the rush hour car wrecks that seemed to plague him this week.

"Stupid people can't learn to drive." He muttered irritably. "Some idiot takes out another idiot's bumper who then takes off a bozo's door and fender because his brakes suck. Idiots!" He spat, pounding his hand on the steering wheel. To top it all off, Daniel's migraine was getting worse and the buzzing in his ears seemed to become more incessant. His vision seemed to become hazy and red. "Damn useless, stupid people, taking up space and wrecking cars." Daniel felt rage boil through him at this lousy culmination of a lousier week. He replaced his hand on the wheel with his head and repeatedly bounced it hard off the wheel, part of him hoping to knock himself out so the buzzing would stop. Daniel shot his hands up to his closed eyes and beat on his head with his palms. He didn't see traffic begin moving ahead of him as emergency crews finally cleared the accident scene.

Daniel's mid nineties sedan suddenly jarred forward as it was plowed into from behind by a delivery van. His head painfully bounced off the steering wheel from the jolt. As he straightened he gave a yell of rage and flung his door open. He stalked up to the delivery van and jerked the dazed driver from the vehicle by his collar.

"Sorry man!" The annoying man squeaked as fear rocketed through him at the murderous look in the guy's eyes that had him by the throat. "Look, my company is fully insured, let me get you a phone number and…"

Daniel cut him off. "I don't want any stupid phone number!" He screamed in the man's face. "I want you idiots to learn how to drive! I want you to straighten out my bumper, now, with your face!" Daniel turned with the man's jacket still clenched in his hands and threw him headfirst into the wreckage where the van met the back of his car. The driver's head bounced off the crinkled hood of the van and he gasped in pain, sliding to the ground, dazed. Blood began to trickle unnoticed from Daniel's nose.

Daniel flew into another rage at the blood that had splattered onto his dented trunk lid from the guy's nose. He suddenly had his pistol in his hand and was seeing everything through a screen of red that pulsed around the edges. He cried out and put the pistol wielding palm up to his temple when the buzzing drowned out everyone's shocked cries as they got out of their cars and fled the scene of the gun brandishing, pissed off man.

"Hey buddy, I said I was sorry. My company will pay, just put the gun down!" The man with the bloody nose sputtered. All Daniel heard was a pulsing buzz that seemed to come from the man's mouth. Fury flared through him. He was now desperate to shut up the buzzing that came from all around him. Someone stepped up to him and grabbed the hand that held the pistol. He heard a sharp pain-bringing buzz near his ear. He turned to the sound and fired. He watched a man crumple to the ground with a hole in his chest. The van driver pushed himself to his feet and cried out when the shot echoed.

"God buddy, just put the gun down!"

"Buuzzzzz buzz, buuzzzzzzzzz…" Daniel heard, now coming from the guy's mouth and echoing through his skull painfully. He screamed and fired at the man, sending three bullets into his face. The man fell to the ground. Daniel cried out as people screamed around him and he heard the buzzing increase tenfold.

"Make it stop!" He screamed, turning to fire at two sources of the hideous sound. Two more people dropped and all fell silent. Daniel raised the pistol to his head and silenced the buzzing in his brain.


One Week Later

Sam sat wedged uncomfortably at a smaller booth in a Mom and Pop type restaurant just outside Portland, Oregon. His long legs didn't want to cooperate after spending ten straight hours in the front seat of the Impala with his pain in the ass brother. He glanced at said brother, to find him up at the counter flirting with the waitress as their food; which rested in front of Dean was becoming cold. He groaned in frustration and finally untangled himself from the booth, earning several vicious cracks from various bones in his body. He stalked up to Dean and took the tray from him, returning to the booth. His brother looked at him and smirked before his eyes returned to the low cut top of the young waitress.

Sam sat and stared after his 'pig' brother. "Let him eat cold food." Sam muttered, putting two fingers up to his throbbing temple and rubbing absently. "Somehow I find myself just not caring right now." Sam sighed and took a bite of his slowly congealing hot roast beef sandwich, turning to look outside to the falling snow. A storm was supposed to hit and he wanted to be comfortably in the motel room before it did. They had found a hunt in the area but he hoped they could just relax for a few days after it was done. He hadn't been feeling quite right and had just about ran himself into the ground these last few months hunting everything that crossed their path, being hunted himself, and looking for Ava nonstop for these last couple weeks.

Dean sauntered back to the table and chuckled as he sat down opposite Sam, promptly kicking him in the shin as he put his own legs under the table. Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, wincing when the action hurt his head. Okay, don't do that until after the Tylenol kicks in. Dean was grinning as he took a bite of his own sandwich.

"What are you so chipper about?"

"Got a hook up later, Sammy. Name's Lea." He nodded at the waitress and Sam followed his eyes to see her swinging backside as she walked back around the counter to pick up her next order. Sam turned to glare at Dean.

"What?" Dean asked, swallowing french-fries he'd stuffed into his mouth. The word came out more "Whuff."

Sam shook his head and gave his brother a look that said my brother is an idiot. "You do know Oregon is supposed to get hit by a blizzard, Dean."

"I plan on being nice and toasty where I am, Sam-my-man." Dean said with a smirk. "'Sides she only lives a mile from the motel. I'll let my baby in the parking lot so she doesn't get cindered by the road trucks."

"Smart. You're telling me you're gonna walk a mile to the motel in the snow?"

"No worries Sammy."

"No worries?! Dean, do you even remember that hunt in Montana a few years back? The one in January?" Sam remembered his horror when their dad came through the door carrying an unconscious, frostbitten Dean who had gotten lost in a blizzard trying to kill a Werebear.

"Vaguely. This isn't gonna be that bad. That was a hell of a storm."

"What about the job?"

"Plenty of time for both. You said it yourself, we're gonna be in town for a few days."

Sam shook his head, wincing again, and fell silent. They soon finished their meal and Lea brought their check. Dean handed her cash and smirked again, his eyes not quite going high enough to meet hers. "I'll see you after your shift." She giggled and walked away.

Sam struggled again to extricate himself from the booth, this time stepping on Dean's foot and feeling no remorse when Dean cried out. He cracked his aching neck and hunched his shoulders, placing his hands in his pockets to hold his jacket closer to him. He stepped ahead of Dean, who was limping slightly, and went out into the cold to the car. Snow had begun to fall in earnest now and the Impala had about two inches on her roof and windshield. It was a heavy snow, Dean realized, as he used a leather clad arm to brush off the windshield.

Sam turned around and glared at Dean as he felt a hard packed snowball crash into his pounding head. "Damn it Dean. What the hell are you, seven?"

Dean chuckled and unlocked his door. Sliding in, he reached for Sam's lock. Sam crawled in to be greeted by yet another smirk from Dean. "Samantha needs her nap."

"You're an ass." Sam muttered and allowed his head to drop back onto the seatback. Dean drove to the motel. He pulled up to the room but made no move to kill the engine.

"Go get some sleep Sam. I know it's been a long day."

"What? Where are you going now?"

"Pool hall. We're down to our last three hundred." He replied.

"Dean, no. Just come in the room. We can hustle pool after the storm. No one's gonna be at the bar anyway with the snow coming down like it is."

"Are you kidding? We passed it on the way back here. Parking lot's packed."

Sam was too drained to argue. Dean seemed to be in a good mood and Sam didn't want to spoil it. "Fine. Just be careful. Don't drink too much and don't piss anyone off. Get done and get out before you get made for a hustler."

"Yes, dad. Dude chill, I know the routine. 'Sides Lea's shift is over in three hours."

"You're still an ass." Sam got out of the car and watched as Dean pulled the Impala back out onto the road. It fishtailed a little in the still falling snow. Sam shook his head again and went into the room. He locked the door behind him.