Love You to Death

Disclaimers: Why do we always gotta say this? OK, they ain't mine, no money made, don't sue (cause it ain't worth the pocket lint). Although if Santa was nice, He'd put Sam in my Christmas stocking ;)

Spoilers: None that I can think of. Set after Asylum.

Summary: When another set of coordinates are given to the brothers Winchester, Sam pays the price.

Rating:M (Mature) for violence and blood in future chapters, and I just can't resist the smarm.

Chapter One: Haven's Rest

The coordinates that had showed up on their phone after the last hunt had pointed Dean and Sam to the small town of Haven's Rest, South Carolina. It had taken the brothers five days to get to the town, and since Dean hadn't had much luck at the pool tables due to the lingering aches in his chest, they weren't solvent enough to afford motel rooms, and therefore had to sleep in the car on the way to Haven's Rest.

After four cramped and cranky nights trapped with Sam in a metal box on wheels, Dean finally hit it big at the tables and announced that for their stay in Haven they would be able to stay in better-than-average accomodations for their hunt.

Sam was perfectly willing to stay in another motel to save some money, but Dean was feeling generous and sprang for a Bed and Breakfast on the outskirts of town. While Sam hooked up his laptop at the desk in the large lounge and resumed his research, Dean wandered around their suite. Off the main room was a bedroom with two double beds, and there was also a large bathroom with a shower and separate clawfoot bathtub. The whole suite was paneled in a rich brown wood, and the decorations were tastefully masculine in burgundys and hunter green. The furniture was a complimentary caramel color, and the woodwork and trims looked like the original from the 1880's, lovingly maintained.

After gracefully draping himself halfway onto the couch facing Sam, Dean finally went digging for answers in his eloquent way.


Due to four horribly sleepless and cramped nights, Sam was only half listening to his brother and missed the impatience in Dean's voice.

A minute later: "...Well?"


"Come on Sammy, you've been poking around on that thing for ages. Spill already!"

Lack of sleep gave way to a temper he usually contained. "If you think you can do better, do it yourself, dammit!" Sam abruptly jumped up from the computer, rubbing his hands over grit filled eyes, and stormed to the window on the far side of the room.

Taken aback, Dean studied his brother. The bags under his eyes were painfully pronounced, and Sam's eyes were red and puffy, as if he'd been crying. He slumped against the wall and looked out the window, and Dean could read exhaustion in every long line of his baby brothers body. He realized that the nightmares, combined with the stress of living in the car (which wasn't such a problem for him, but it was impossible for his 6 foot 2 brother to find a comfortable position in the Impala) had made it nearly torture for Sam for the past week.

He also realized that his silence during that time had probably exacerbated the guilt which Sam was undoubtedly burying himself under after the events at the Asylum. After that job, they had stayed in a motel for three days for Dean to heal up, using the last of their ready cash fund. Dean wasn't the kind of person to dwell on things, he took his brother at his word and believed that Sam hadn't wanted to hurt him. What he didn't think about was that Sam was the type to dwell on such things. He was such a sensitive person that once he started psychoanalyzing himself, you couldn't beat him off the trail with a baseball bat.

'Oh boy, time for another chick-flic moment', Dean steeled himself.

Out loud he said, "Look Sammy, you haven't gotten shit for sleep, go take a nap,"


"Good grief. OK, Sam, go get some sleep!"

Not feeling like arguing, Sam just went into the bedroom and took off his shoes, crawled into one of the beds, and buried himself under the covers. He heard Dean clicking away at the computer and muttering to himself. It wasn't that he hadn't been sleeping at all, it was just that what little sleep he did get was woefully inadequate, and left him feeling more tired when he woke up than when he went to bed, and it only seemed to be getting worse the closer they got to Haven's Rest.