Sam was quiet for a while, choosing to study Dean's profile. Just when had his brother gone from being just another guy to someone that Sam thought of as beautiful? No doubt about it, the girls always liked his brother's ruggedly handsome features, but Sam... he'd never noticed them quite like this. He knew each smile line by heart, and the deeper furrows between Dean's brows caused by too many frowns. Then there was the sprinkling of freckles, left over from their youth... not as pronounced, but there if you looked hard enough. His gaze dropped to Dean's lips, which just made his heart kick, because he knew what those lips could do to him. He licked his own lips, imagining Dean's taste, then looked down into his lap.

"I don't like it. Killington. It's too close to where we ran into the werewolves before. I don't think that... that bitch is going to just give up on you. If she picks up your scent..." He took a deep breath. "You think it's worth trying him again, telling him to meet us somewhere else?" Course not, this was dad and talking him out of anything, assuming he could even reach him, was unlikely. He worried his lower lip, then couldn't hold it in any longer, and looked over at Dean. "I wonder if there's some... some bond between a werewolf and the person she bites. I mean like vampires..."

Oh God, he shouldn't have said that. "I'm sorry." He fidgeted some, looking out the window, one hand on the dashboard, then back at Dean. "I'll stop freaking on you," he gave a determined nod, vowing he would stop spewing out his worries. Dean had enough on his shoulders.

Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him as he drove but it didn’t make him uncomfortable. He certainly didn’t mind his brother looking at him, and he could tell that the younger man wasn’t studying him in any way other than to admire him. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but it probably had something to do with all the years Sam spent looking up to him, literally and figuratively, when they were growing up. It was different now of course and he liked the way Sam was looking at him now even more. Admiring him in an entirely different way.

His lips quirked up a little when he noticed the sudden change in his brother’s breathing, the slight change to his brother’s scent that he’d come to associate with Sam being aroused. Unfortunately when Sam spoke the small smile slipped off his face almost immediately. Damn it, Sam really did know how to kill the mood.

No, Dean didn’t like it either. They’d tried so hard to get far way from Washington, and now heading back in that direction for any reason was enough to put him on edge. But surely even if they were heading back that way the werewolves wouldn’t be anywhere around there. Not with all the hunters on their tails.

Still it made him uneasy as hell, and Sam’s musings about the bitch maybe having some kind of link to him because she’d been the one to bite him wasn’t comforting at all. Dean had no idea. Too much was unknown about werewolves. Sam was right about one thing though. The bitch wouldn’t just give up on looking for him. She’d staked their claim, marked her territory, whatever. It didn’t matter that Dean didn’t want her. She wanted him, and she wasn’t going to just let him go.

Dean realized he’d been gripping the steering wheel practically white knuckled and forced himself to relax. He looked briefly over at Sam with a raised eyebrow when the younger man promised to stop freaking out on him. Yeah, he’d appreciate that.

With a sigh, Dean popped in one of his tapes, though he didn’t turn the volume way up like he normally did.

“Why don’t you get some rest. I’m sure you didn’t get much sleep last night. I’ll wake you up to take over when I get tired.” Dean finally said. In truth, a part of him still felt exhausted from last night, but he wasn’t ready for sleep right now. He’d much rather drive than deal with the memories and fears that would surely surface once he closed his eyes.

“Sorry,” he apologized again, noticing the strain in Dean’s voice in spite of the neutral words he spoke. “Yeah, I’ll close my eyes for a while, probably won’t sleep.” Which was probably a big lie because he seemed to get incredible amounts of sleep, when his brother was at he wheel and they were driving... always had.

He shifted around, getting comfortable and closing his eyes. Course letting it all go was hard, though he wasn’t gonna share his thoughts anymore... there was no use, other than getting Dean riled up too. But that Cassandra thing, he couldn’t let go of it. Even if he’d been tipsy that night she’d caught up to them, he remembered, remembered the look on her face when she claimed Dean as hers. It was the same look he’d seen on Dean when Dean looked at him, claimed him as mate.

Hell no, she couldn’t have Dean. Sam moved his hand to Dean’s thigh, squeezed and left his hand there. This man, his brother, his lover... he was his. She was never gonna get her claws in him, not ever. And yet, an insidious quiet voice in his head kept asking whether he could compete against another werewolf? What if more wolfy instincts were triggered within Dean, could he control them? What if they drew him to her? His teeth almost cut into his lower lip as he tried to push those thoughts out of his head.