More than My Brother

By: supernaturaldh

The Impala drove along the old dusty roads of west Texas the windows rolled all the way down, the breeze whipping through the car. Dean sat with his eyes fixed on the horizon, his hands gripping the steering wheel, his thoughts a thousand miles away. It had been two weeks since he made the deal with the demon… the deal that gave him one year to live. It was funny, but these had been two of the longest weeks of his life. Sam had said barely a word, but continued to mull over the situation in his mind, sitting ideally staring as the scenery flew by. Occasionally Sam would perk up, ask Dean details about what had happened, and then he would turn and stare out the window again. It was driving Dean crazy, but he knew that Sam was a thinker and had to come to terms with this himself, so he left him alone with his thoughts.

Sam Winchester had always known his brother was special for as long as he could remember. It had always been Sam and Dean, Dean and Sam, the Winchester brothers. Where you saw one, you usually saw the other. As he shifted down further in the passenger seat of the car, he glanced over to his big brother; Dean did not seem to notice, seemingly engrossed in his own thoughts. Sam was sure Dean had his own issues to deal with and certainly did not need him hashing over his feelings. He wanted to say something comforting, understanding, and brotherly, but the words just did not come to him. He had been in this state since his brother had told him about his deal, the deal of all deals, the mother load of deals, the one that took his brother away from him and left him all alone. He did not like the thought of Dean making a sacrifice to save him. It reminded him too much of his Dad, how stupid and reckless he had always been about his life, his children and the hunt.

Sam did not want to continue to think about life without Dean, but the thoughts kept grinding their way through his skull. The memories of life with Dean intermingled with the thoughts of life without him. They were assaulting him, causing his chest to constrict, his brain to hurt. He just wanted to go somewhere and beat the crap out of something, kick and scream till he felt better. Instead, they drove, on and on and on, down this old road in the middle of nowhere, and he was forced to continue to deal with his memories and thoughts. Glaring out at the sun hiding behind the trees whipping by the window…

Sam recalled the first time he realized his brother would always be there for him. He woke up one morning to find his Dad was gone. Climbing awkwardly out of his small bed, the three year olds feet scuffled on the ground, blue blanket dragging along behind him as he went looking for his daddy. As he clamored his way into the kitchen he was surprised to see his brother Dean standing at the kitchen counter pouring cereal into bowls.

"Where's daddy De…." Sam said as he tilted his head to the side, big wide eyes staring up as at his seven year old big brother.

"He had to go on a little trip Sammy; he'll be back later. Look's like it's just me and you today". Dean grinned and patted little Sammy on the top of the head.

"Lets get you up to the table and you can eat your cereal", Dean said as he grabbed his little brother under the arms and lugged him up into the chair. Sam's eyes begin to fill with tears, brimming just near the surface ready to splash down his face.

"But Daddy makes my cereal…. I want Daddy to do it".

Dean's arms came up quickly around his little brothers back in a hug, "Its okay Sammy, I can make your cereal… look, see, and I gave you extra milk".

Sam wiped his dripping nose on his blue blanket and looked up at Dean, "Lucky Charms... is it Lucky Charms De…..."

"You bet it is…. Our favorite". Dean said with a smile.

"Daddy says I should eat oatmeal, that it is better for me De…"

"Well, I think Lucky Charms are just as good, and I like um too!" Dean said as he handed Sammy his spoon and set down to his own bowl of cereal.

"Looks like it's just you and me, kiddo". Dean said again as he winked at Sam. Sammy smiled up at Dean across the table, his spoon wobbling as he brought it up to his little mouth. Just me and my De today, he thought, his little eyes gleaming up at his big brother.

Sam felt the car slow and stop and looked out to see the four way stop sign, glancing over at Dean; he closed his eyes and leaned back against the passenger door as he felt the car shift gears and speed back up. His hazy memories of his youth coming back to assault his tired mind.

When he was six years old Sam Winchester figured out that his brother would always take care of him. He broke his arm playing baseball. He remembered it like it was yesterday. His Dad had gone on a hunt for the weekend and had left strict instructions for the boys to come straight back to the motel after school. He would already be gone by the time they got out of school, but he would call them at 7:00 p.m. that evening. "And you had better be here!!" John Winchester said in a gruff order like manner. After giving them their orders, he told them to expect him sometime Saturday afternoon, for them to be good, and for Dean to 'watch out for Sammy'. Dean and Sam were fine with that, it was there life, a common occurrence and they just accepted it. Now, as Sam looked back on it, what was his Dad thinking, they were kids for Christ sake.

Walking out of the school door, Sam looked around to find his brother leaning on the bicycle rack in front of the building.

"Hey, Sammy, I was waitin on you", Dean said as he looked down at his little brother.

"Hi Dean", Sammy said grinning, his backpack dragging the ground.

Dean reached down and grabbed the backpack off of Sam's shoulder and lugged it up to his own. It was amazing to Sammy that his brother never had any school books. How did he do that?

They both started walking out of the school yard, when Dean veered Sammy to the right of the building and said "We aren't going home yet Sam, come-on, were gonna go play baseball".

"Really, Dean… who we playin ball with? Sam asked eagerly.

"Some guys from school, they always ask me, and I never get to play with them… but today, today will be different, today I can stay and play".

"But Dad said…." Sam started in a little whisper.

"I don't care what Dad said, I'm in charge now and I say we play ball". Dean cocked his head took Sam's hand and begin walking to the back of the school building.

Sam walked quickly to keep up with Dean as they headed to the baseball fields behind the school. Several boys were standing around with bats, balls, and gloves waiting to start the ball game. One of the older boys yelled "Hey Dean… surprise, surprise, surprise. I didn't think you knew how to play baseball dude…"

"Well, I do buddy." Dean said with a cocky smile.

"What's the little guy doing here Dean; he is way too small to play baseball". A snarky guy named Eddic called from first base. Sam could tell by the look on Dean's face that Eddie was not one of his favorite people. So he gathered all his courage and yelled back,

"I am not, I can play ball just like you can".

"Sammy, I think you need to sit this one out kiddo", Dean patted Sam on the shoulder.

"You little twerp, I bet he don't even know how to play ball", Eddie yelled at Sam. "You're just a baby".

"Oh, crap, he can play better than you can", Dean stood firm beside Sam, his face burning, his eyes glazing over, toe to toe with Eddie.

"Prove it then, the little twerps on your team… come on guys, lets play ball if we're gonna". Eddie rolled his eyes and stomped off. Sam glared at him. He was a real jerk. He'd show him, he'd show all of them.

Dean walked over toward right field and lead Sam to his spot in the outfield. "Stay here, and catch the ball if it comes your way, throw it to me Sam... I'm gonna be infield, right over there. Dean pointed to 2nd base and started walking back.

The inning went quickly and before Sam knew it he was back sitting in the dugout waiting on his turn to bat. HeHHe was grateful the ball had never gotten to outfield, Sam felt good, he had done exactly as Dean instructed and stood there waiting, but while he waited, he prayed "Please don't let the ball come over here". Lucky for him, God was listening.

Dean got up to bat. The score was 2 to 0, and he really wanted to score and tie up the game. There was a guy on 1st, if he could just hit the ball and get around the bases, they would score two runs. The ball came soaring toward home plate, Dean watched it carefully trying to judge if he could hit it or not, he finally just gave in and took a big swing. The bat hit the ball and it went flying into outfield, Dean ran as fast as his feet would go. Round 1st base, on to 2nd, he thought he might make it home, and then the ball was thrown toward home plate, so he stopped running, his breath catching in his throat. Damn, he thought, stopped at 3rd base.

Sam's palms were sweating when he realized it was his turn to bat, Dean had not come home, and everyone expected him to get a hit. He slowly drug the bat up to home plate, glancing around the ballfield. He looked over to Dean, okay, Sam thought, he could do this, he knew he could. He took a deep breeth and balanced the bat on his little shoulder. Dean yelled at him from 3rd base, "Come on Sammy, and show um what you can do". Sammy glanced over at Dean, catching his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief; Dean always made him feel better.

The ball came over home plate, "swing batter, batter, batter" Eddie yelled from outfield. Sammy reared back, closed his eyes and swung the bat. The ball connected with the bat and went up in the air coming quickly back down toward the pitcher. "Run Sammy, run", Dean yelled from 3rd base.

Sammy ran as fast as his short legs would go, he had to get to 1st base. His heart was pumping, his adrenaline maxed out. He had never played real ball before, only catch with his brother. As Sam ran to step on the bag, Eddie caught the ball and rammed hard into Sam's shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Dean slid quickly into home plate, grinning as he slid his leg across the plate, dirt cloud hovering above him.

Dean stood up and turned to outfield as he brushed himself off jumping lightly on his tiptoes. He was soooo good. Then he saw the small form lying on the ground next to 1st base. "Sammy", Dean said in a whisper as he ran toward 1st base, his heart beating wildly in his chest. "Sammy…Sammy, what's the matter, get up".

Sam lay on his side, dirt on his face, his arm turned out at an odd angle. Dean quickly eased his hand underneath Sam's face and turned it gently toward him. Sam's eyes were large, tears welling up and flowing down his chin in a dirty path to the ground.

"Auh… Dean, hurts", Sam said quietly. All the other boys gathered around Sam looking wide eyed at the little guy before them. "You think his arms broke dude", said one of the boys to Dean.

"I don't know", Dean said while gently pulling Sam to a sitting position. Sam winced and held his arm closely to his chest. "Sam, let me see", Dean said holding his head down looking intently at his arm.

"Come on Sammy, let's get you home". Dean helped Sam stand up and put his arm around his waist to help him walk.

"Told you he was a wussie", Eddie said. Dean turned and glared at the other boy. "I'll discuss this with you later" as his pointed finger nugged Eddie hard in the chest. Eddie's face fell in a fearful glare as he turned in a huff and marched away from the group.

Dean led Sam to the farthest bed as soon as they entered the motel room and helped him to lie down. He ran to the bathroom and retrieved a rag, he quickly ran it under the cold water and ran back to Sam. He began to wipe off Sam's dirty face. Sammy squirmed under Dean's touch and winced in pain.

"De", Sam said in a low quivery voice, "what are we going to tell Dad".

"The truth, Sammy", Dean stated clearly as he continued to wipe Sammy's face.

"But, Dean, you'll get in trouble", Sam said.

"Whatever Sam, what time it is…I'm calling Dad". Dean reached for the cell phone his Dad had left and pressed the numbers of his Dad's phone. The phone rang three times and Dean sighed. Geez, why did he give them his number, if he was never going to answer it anyway.

"Yea, Dad, its Dean… cals me". Dean said into the voicemail and hung the phone up. He gently rolled Sam over to his back and said, "I'm getting some ice Sam, I will be right back". Sam's lips parted, but he did not make a sound, just looked up at Dean.

This was bad; Dean thought as he grabbed the ice bucket and ran out of the room to the ice machine up the hall. Quickly, he put the ice in the bucket and headed back to their motel room. Dean sprinted to the bathroom and got a towel; he rolled the towel up with ice in it and sat it on Sam's shoulder.

"Sammy, don't cry, it will be okay", Dean said as tears filled his own eyes. Damn his dad, why didn't he call? As if God had heard Deans request, the cell phone lying on the bed rang. Dean quickly picked it up.

"Dean, what's the matter", his Dad barked into Dean's ear.

"It's Sam…Dad; I think he broke his arm".

"How… what… how did he break his arm Dean?!!!" his Dad said in an exasperated voice.

"Playing baseball", Dean said in a quick breath.

"What, Dean… God… I thought I said….. I am on my way, it will take me about 2 hours to get there, stay with him".

Click, the phone was dead. Well, duh, Dean thought, what did his Dad think he was going to do, leave him alone?

Dean brought his hand down to Sam's brown bangs and brushed his fingers through them slowly. "It will be okay Sam; Dad's on his way back, just hang on".

"Dean, don't leave me", Sam said as his eye lashes fluttered closed.

"I won't Sammy; ever, I would never leave you. I'll always take care of you, just rest…" Dean sighed.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the mini mart in the middle of no where.

"Wake up sleeping beauty", Dean said, as he nudged Sam on the shoulder and got out of the car. Sam opened sleepy eyes and glanced out at his brother. He was walking stiffly into the mini mart. Sam slowly opened the passenger door and drug himself to a standing position beside the car. It was good to stretch his legs, feel the wind blowing on his tightly wound muscles. Where the hell were they anyway?

Dean came out the front door of the store walking sluggishly back toward the car.

"Heads up Sammy, think quick." he said, as he threw a coke and a bag of Fritos his way. Sam quickly grabbed the chips, as the coke fell gingerly to the ground with a thud.

"Thanks Dean… thanks for shaking up my coke for me". Sam looked at Dean with an angry glare as he reached down to grab the coke at is feet.

"Not a problem, Sammy", Dean said as he smirked to himself. Yep, that's what he did best, got on Sam's nerves.

"How much further, Dean", Sam said as he slid back into the car and Dean pumped the gas. Dean climbed back into the care and cranked up the engine, pulling back out onto the road.

"Well, we are about 10 hours from Franklin, Oklahoma and the hunt for the ugliest poltergeist this side of the Mississippi". Dean said glaring at Sam, "What's it to you anyway? You are staring out the window or sleeping most of the time".

Sam just shrugged up his shoulders and ripped open the Fritos. He munched them all in 3 large handfuls and pitched the bag to the back floorboard. He then went to pull the tab off the coke.

"Dude, watch it", Dean said grabbing the coke from Sam's hands. "I don't want coke fizzing all over my leather seats, its bad enough you think the backseat is a trash dump".

"Great Dean, you buy it for me, shake it up, and then won't let me have it… wow, thanks a lot bro". Sam said as he turned to glare out the window. His brother was such a jerk sometimes.

"Whatever…" Dean said as he turned the knob on the radio and set the music blaring throughout the car. Sam slouched down further in the seat, eyes focused out the window, daring Dean to make another comment. He would just continue daydreaming, thinking, and pondering, it was sure easier than talking to his brother.

Sam was thirteen years old when he realized that his older brother was not really a jerk after all. Regardless of all the teasing, jokes, and smart ass remarks that were directed his way, Sammy came to realize that it was all just a show, an act, one that Dean had down to perfection. He remembered the day vividly. It was the year he was in 9th grade and Dean was a senior. The school they were attending was huge and they had gotten there in November just before the holidays, so no one really wanted to make a new friend out of Sam. It was sad to think that he could just disappear into the crowd and no one cared one way or the other. Dean on the other hand seemed to fit right in. Sam remembered vividly how Dean could talk to anyone, anytime, anywhere. The girls flocked to him and he always had a crowd of them around him.

The second week of school, it dawned on Sam realized that he was not going to make any friends, no one talked to him. He felt totally out of place and alone. He decided to just keep his head down and go to class, staying caught up in his thoughts and lessons. At lunch each day, he sat quietly in the corner, at an out of the way table, and ate by himself. He glanced up to see Dean, as always, right in the middle of everything, grinning, smiling, and talking to everyone. He was so comfortable; it made Sam a little jealous. It was amazing to Sam how he could make friends so easily.

"Whose that little nerd boy over there in the corner", Dean heard one of his friends at the table say during lunch.

Dean glanced over to the corner and there he saw his brother, engrossed in a book, munching on an apple, all by himself. He could tell by the frown on his brother's face, he really was not reading, but simply being, trying to fade into the corner and hide behind his long hair.

Dean grimaced, gezz Sammy, he thought to himself.

"I think that kids pretty cool", Dean said lightly to his lunch table.

"Really", the other kid said.

"Yep", Dean said and nodded toward his brother. He stood up and walked across the lunchroom to stand above his brother.

"Hey there Sammy", he said as he slid down at the table. Sam glanced up at his brother and stared.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

"Eating lunch with my brother", Dean said as he swung around on the chair grinning smugly at Sam.

"Dean, you don't have to do this, I mean, I know you have friends". Sam glanced up at all the kids at the other table looking over at Dean.

"I am eating with my friend, my best friend", Dean said and smiled at Sammy.

Sam's face lightened up slowly and his lips quirked up in a grin. Several other kids from the other table walked over to where Sam and Dean were sitting and plopped down their lunch trays grabbing the seats around Sam. Dean looked over at Sam, winked, and said in his best cocky voice, "Told you he was cool".

Sam smiled as he stared out the window at the memory of his brother and that day so long ago. While his brother could drive him nuts, he was and always would be his very best friend. He glanced over at Dean in the driver's seat and gave him a grin.

"What?" Dean said eyeing his brother mischievously.

"Nuthin", Sam said as his grin broadened and he glanced back out the window.

When Sam was 16 he went on the first" official" hunt with his Dad and brother. Dad said he would do the digging, salting, and burning all by himself. Dean was not happy about it, nor did he want Sam to do anything "alone" when it came to hunting the Supernatural. His Dad had insisted, and Dean had finally given up and supported the idea. It was at this point Sam realized his brother would protect him no matter what and from no matter what. It was a cold day in December when Sam was out of school on winter break. Sam had been begging for 3 years to go on a hunt, to be part of the hunt and not just the researcher, but Dean had always put a damper on it, saying Sam was not old enough, big enough, trained well enough. It continually pissed Sam off, as Dean did his first hunt at 12 years old. Why was it any different for Sam?

They pulled into the cemetery in upstate New York around 11:00 p.m., it was a very dark, cold, damp night and snow was starting to spit through the clouds. Excitement rushed through Sam; he did not even feel the cold as he slid out of the backseat of the Impala to stand beside Dean at the truck. Dean glanced over at Sam and reached up and patted his shoulder.

"You'll be fine, Sam".

Sam smiled at Dean and looked over at his Dad who was fiddling with the trunk key trying to get it to open.

"Damn, I need to get this worked on, old piece of crap car". John Winchester rammed the key in harder and gave the trunk a quick thump with his hand before the door popped open with a big screech.

This elicited a large huff from Dean, who winked at Sam. They both looked about to laugh but thought better of it, since Dad seemed a little pissed at the moment.

"Okay guys, grab the rock salt, guns, flash lights, salt, and matches, let's get this ugly son of a bitch and get back to a warm bed".

John reached in and grabbed his gun swinging it up to check to see if it was loaded, then laying it across his shoulder. Dean grabbed his gun doing the same thing only slower, nudging at Sam to make sure he was doing this too. Once all guns were checked, loaded, and resting on their shoulders, salt and matches stuffed into empty pockets, and flashlights in hand, John slammed down the trunk with a load thud.

They silently walked through the old cemetery with their flashlights making a glowing path for them to walk in.

"We are looking for the grave marker for John Amsterdam", John said as he drew is light from headstone to headstone. "He is supposed to be up here somewhere on the right".

"There it is", Sammy smiled, "I found it".

Dean placed his hand on Sam's back, "Way to go, kiddo."

John glanced up at both boys and a small grin came to his lips. "Okay, get to it Sammy".

Sam began digging the grave, dirt flying out behind the shovel with each heave he made. John kept quiet watch standing at the front of the headstone, Dean at the rear. Sam smirked to himself and thought how easy this was. What was Dean always bitch'n about, this wasn't so bad. Just then the shovel hit the top of the casket with a hard thud.

"Got it", Sam said as he raised his head to look at his Dad for approval. John only nodded at Sam to continue. Sam banged his shovel on the top of the casket several times and then the wood began to give way. He leaned down and pulled the broken wood and could see the bones of old man Amsterdam laying in the usual way.

"Dean", John said, "Move over here by me, and let Sammy do it". He grinned at his youngest son.

Dean reluctantly moved to the front of the grave and stood by his father. Sam's lanky body barely even fit in the grave, his tall head reaching the edge of the opening. He began to shake the salt on the bones glancing up at Dean who gave him a slight nod. Sam grabbed the matches out of his pocket, his hand shaking, was it really that cold out here, or what?

Just as Sam lit the match the wind picked up and a noise came up from behind him. He swung around teetering on top of the casket, loosing his balance, he stood precariously as the mist hovered over him. Dean yelled at Sam to get out of the way as he jumped into the grave standing between him and the mist. John grabbed haphazardly for his youngest dragging him out of the grave. Dean slung his gun to the front and pointed it directly at the ghost of Amsterdam and fired a shot. The ghost swirled apart with a screech and then disappeared.

Sam stood by his father, breathing heavily, a little stunned. John just glared over at him and said "I thought you knew how to do this…" and turned back to watch Dean.

Dean climbed out of the grave quickly and lit another match and threw it back down in the hole. The bones went up in flames, but not before Amsterdam decided to make one last appearance coming up to stand directly behind John, the ghost knocked him to ground. John fell down looking stunned. Dean scrambled quickly out of the grave, his eyes darting around looking for the ghost. Sam was shaking hard, perspiration building on his face. Dean noticed his brother's condition and did not know if it was from the ghost or his Dad.

The ghost turned away from John and headed straight for Sam. Dean quickly stepped next to his brother and yelled, "Shoot Sammy". Sam raised his gun at the same time as Dean and they both shot the ghost. It went sailing across the sky with a screech. Dean turned to look at the flames that had now grown to full force. "Well, he won't be coming back this time!" he said with a small laugh.

John stood up slowly, staring at Sam and said, "Guess we need more training there Sammy", and with that he started walking back to the car.

Dean turned quickly and stood in front of his Dad, pointing his finger at him in defiance. "Shut up", was all he said. His Dad just shook his head and walked away. Sam was stunned and swayed on his feet. Did Dean just talk back to their Dad??? Dean reached his arm up quickly and put it around Sam's shoulders and pulled him toward him. "It's okay kiddo, its over, you did good".

"But...Dad...he said…" Sam stammered.

Dean winced and shook his head, his hand patting Sam on the back. "Don't worry about him Sammy; he's a horse's ass". .

The car turned slowly into a motel parking lot and Sam tilted his head at Dean. "We stopping now?"

"I'm tired Sam…" Dean said while rubbing his hand over his eyes and shaking his head to get the fog out of his brain.

"K…" Sam quietly said.

The Impala driver's door opened and Dean lifted himself out of the car.

"I'll get the room", he said leaning into the window and looking at Sam.

Sam nodded at Dean and looked back toward the front of the car. As Dean walked up the steps into the motel to register, Sam memories of his brother and his feelings for him overcame him.

He remembered the night of the fire, the night his girlfriend died. He didn't like remembering it, because he was weak and inconsolable then. That was the night he realized how much his brother loved him.

Dean stood looking at the fire burn, the fire engines and cop lights blaring into the cold evening darkness. He glanced around quickly, where was his brother? He had him right next to him only a moment ago and now he was gone. Glancing back toward the Impala, he found Sam, standing at the trunk, staring at its contents. Dean walked up to stand next to his brother, he could feel the rage, hurt, confusion coming off of him in waves.

"Sammy" Dean said as he leaned in closer in the darkness to look at his brothers tear stained face.

"We've got work to do…" Sam said abruptly and shut the trunk. Then Sam buckled as his knees gave out, and he started to fall to the ground. Dean quickly placed his arm around Sam's waist and guided him toward the passenger door of the car. Leaning Sam against him for support he grabbed the door with his free hand and opened it. He pushed Sam gently into the seat and shut the door. Running quickly around the car, Dean sat down, and started the engine. Glancing over at Sam, he only saw a shell of the person he was four hours ago, before the fire that claimed his girlfriends life, his life, the one he always wanted.

Dean quickly hammered the accelerator and bolted out onto the road. He had to find a motel, now… Sam needed to lay down, to rest, to grieve.

Dean parked the car and placed his hand gently on Sam's arm.

"Sammy, Sammy, I am getting us a room buddy…Okay?"

Sam did not flinch, move or even acknowledge Dean or what he said. His eyes had a blank stare out into the darkness.

"I won't be a minute Sam…just a minute".

With that Dean bolted out the door into the motel lobby all the while keeping an eye on his brother. The motel manager wanted to gab, but Dean cut her off quickly and retrieved the key to their room.

Running back to the car he opened Sam's door and crouched down looking Sam in the eye.

"Sammy, Sammy, hey kiddo, look at me". Dean reached his hand up and cupped Sammy's face in it, gently turning his head to face him. Searching Sam's eyes for some recognition.

Dean recognized shock when he saw it, he had seen it too many times on hunts with his father. He needed to get his brother in the room NOW!

"De…" Sam said in a very low whisper, his voice weak and shallow.

"Yeah Sammy, it's me. Com'on lets get you inside".

Dean placed both arms around Sam and hugged him into a standing position. He gently prodded his brother to walk to the room. Sam sluggishly followed in step with his brother, not really knowing what he was doing, or where he was going. Everything was in a fog, why was he so confused? Where was Jessica, why was he with Dean? Where was he? Sam's mind assaulted him with confusing, muddled questions that he could not seem to find the answers to. All he knew was warm arms were guiding him and he would go with that for now.

Dean led Sam to the farthest bed in the motel room and sat him down. Sam looked up at Dean with hazy eyes.

"Sam, I am getting the bags, I will be right back", Dean said as he quickly bolted from the room to the Impala and back. As he sat the bags on the floor, next to the door, he saw that Sam was still sitting on the edge of the bed where he had left him. He was noticeably shaking. Dean grabbed a blanket off of the end of his bed and wrapped it around Sam's lanky body, pulling him into a hug.

"Come on Sammy, stay with me here", he said in a raspy, desperate voice, rubbing his hands up and down Sam's long arms trying to instill warmth in his brother. Dean leaned back on the bed, taking Sam with him all bundled in the blanket.

Sam's shaking began to clam as Dean felt him relax into his hold.

"Dean", Sam croaked out from his smoke strained voice. "Dean, I have to go home to Jessica, my interview is tomorrow…I have to get there".

Dean pulled Sam tighter and began to softly hum in his ear. Sam remembered this; this was the song he heard when he was little, the song that helped him to go to sleep after a bad nightmare. This was the warmth he felt then, the comfort, the love. He snuggled into the hug and drifted off to sleep.

"Shhhh, Sammy,shhh", Dean cooed, "go to sleep kiddo".

"De…" Sam mumbled as his eyes closed and exhaustion took him.

As Sam lugged his bags into the motel room he looked over at his brother who had already slammed haphazardly into the mattress, his own duffle bag banging to the floor. Sam let out a sigh, and dropped his own bag. He was barely sitting on the edge of his bed, his thoughts bursting out of his mind, his feelings overflowing and running over his entire body. He ran a shaky had through his hair and exhaled.

This was his Dean, the only person he truly loved with all his heart. The one that was always there for him, who took care of him, protected him, loved him no matter what he did. The guy that came across as a jerk, but in reality was a softy. The only person who knew him and the only person he felt he knew. Dean was more than his brother, Dean was his Dad, Mom, and entire family all rolled in to one. His lifeline, his anchor… Oh God, he could not do this anymore.

"De", Sam said in a low voice.

Dean quickly turned over to face his brother on the opposite bed. Sam never used his nickname, his eyes straining to get a good look at Sam.

"Sammy", he said as he looked at his brother's face. Boy, Dean thought, Sam looked as overwhelmed and as exhausted as he felt.

"De", Sam said again, voice quivering, sitting slouched on the edge of his bed.

Dean quickly got up and in one giant step was on the bed wrapping Sammy in a hug. Sammy let the tears go, letting them flow in huge drops down his face. The feelings that had stalked and assaulted him for the past two weeks came bubbling to the top, held him hostage while the thought of the deal his brother had made was making him gasp for air.

"It's okay Sammy, it's going to be okay", Dean said as his own tears welled up in his eyes and he hugged Sam tighter than he thought possible.

"We'll fix this Sam, I promise, we will".