Brothers ◇ SPN

Wake up. Wake up. Wake-

Chapter Song - Thought Contagion ~ Muse

Isabella's POV

Dean and I were sat in the front seats of the Impala on my laptop, checking the parking lot security camera for anything that would show us who took our brother and where. So far, Dean was being slow.

"It's like watching a monkey type, give it here," I groaned, reaching for the laptop. He shrugged me off.

"Stop, I almost got something. And now you're messing it up," he growled, and pushed my shoulder away so that I wasn't 'putting him off'.

"Is this a waste of time? Because you're taking longer to do this than Ross and Rachel took to get together," I whined.

"I don't know who they are." This was outrageous.

"What? How can you have not watched Friends? Joey Tribbiani would-"

"Shut up."

"You shut up," I snapped.

"No, shut up, I found something," he clarified. Now I crowded round the glowing screen again. Apart from the small bulb in the car, it was our only source of light. It was late now, and most people had cleared out of the bar hours ago, leaving only a few stragglers roaming the dark, empty streets.

I turned my attention to the screen, where a woman far too small to possibly carry my youngest brother's weight, was dragging him into a car. He was unconscious, but I couldn't see any head wounds, meaning he must have been drugged. The car then drove of down a narrow dirt road that led into the woods.

"That's something, right? Can you run the plates?" I asked Dean, who hadn't moved his eyes away from the video. His face had turned drip white, and he looked like he was going to be sick. "What is it, Dean?"

"The blood," he breathed, so quiet that I barely heard him. I had been so focused on the lack of head injury, that I hadn't noticed the bloodstain seeping through Sam's shirt, soaking his torso.

I wanted desperately to panic. It was my first instinct. But as I looked over at Dean, at the fear on his face, I suppressed that urge to freak. Because it moments of crisis, if everyone freaked out, then everyone was screwed. So I threw on my best brave face and put a hand on my big brother's shoulder.

"He'll be fine. He'll be fine, Dean;  you two have survived so much worse," I stuttered, not truly believing the words I was saying.

That didn't seem to matter to Dean, though. Just a moment before, Dean had looked almost vulnerable, but now all the traces of weakness had vanished. He quickly wiped his face and shook his head, as if to erase his thoughts completely. Like an etch-a-sketch. Now, his face was different, and so was his attitude.

"Yeah, he will. Let's go bring him home, Bell." He spoke with newfound determination, as if it was a promise he'd made to himself; and not for the first time, it was clear to me that Dean's real job was to keep his baby brother safe.

And with that, he tossed the laptop onto the back seat, turned the key in the ignition, and began to drive. Fast, which would've been cool if I had known about it, and fastened my seat belt. But I hadn't, so instead I hit my head on the sun visor.

"God, Bella. You're such a klutz," Dean sighed and shook his head, as we sped down the long dirt road to the only family we had left.

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The dirt road was longer than we had expected, and somewhere along the line it had started raining. I was starting to get that odd feeling of comfort from not being outside in the cold. Lost in thought, I stared at the raindrops as they hit the window, fiddling with a pocket knife in my hands.