DISCLAIMER: In no way mine

Wow, the reviews were so amazingly awesome for 'Goodbye' that I just had to write a sequel. Not to mention there were a few requests to have another one written. So this one goes out to Lafferyluver, West13 and everyone else that took the time to read and review. You guys are the inspiration!

The song is 'You are my Hope' by Skillet


Times are hard, Times have changed, Don't you say

Sam wasn't really sure what to expect when he got to Stanford. Excitement because he was back in school. Nervous because he was actually on his own. But he wasn't feeling any of those.

The only thing that he was feeling was…empty. There was no denying the fact that something, or more someone, was missing. For the past three weeks on his own, Sam had gone through two mood swings.

When he first got to residence he fell into a hardcore depression. Lying on his bed for two straight days just thinking. Thinking about when and why things had gone bad. Thinking about Dean and how lonely the nights were going to seem without him by Sam's side. Dean, the one person that Sam could hold onto without feeling like an idiot.

When he came out of his depression, it was anger. Pure and simple anger over the way that things had ended between Dean and him. It wasn't like he hadn't given Dean options…he had asked him, begged him to leave with him. To just be with him…and Dean had refused. Had turned away from him.

So Sam was left alone, and although it was partly his own fault for wanting, needing, to get away he still felt justified blaming Dean. Dean had always been the one person that could bring him back when he was down. Without him now, where was Sam supposed to turn? In his grief, the complete loss of not only a brother, but his lover and best friend, made life almost unbearable.

Until he met her.

But I keep holding onto you, It's hard to keep the faith alive day to day, Leaning on the strength I've found in you, You're the hope of all the earth

Jessica had found him in the library. He was always in the library. Sleeping in his bed had been erased as an option on the first night when he realized that there would be no sleeping without Dean beside him…he would crash on the couch in his dorm's living room, but never sleep in the bed. He got more sleep in the chairs in the library than he did in that bed.

He had been in a corner of the library, secretly reading up on anything remotely supernatural that was happening close by. He had been crying silent tears because he found a newspaper from a small town about twenty minutes away. A body in a cemetery had been dug up and burned, grave desecration…it had Dean stamped all over it. Twenty minutes away. Twenty minutes.

Someone touched his shoulder and he jerked away. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He had mumbled, wiping his face and turning away. He closed out of the webpage that had been open. He sat there in silence while she just kind of stood there. After a few minutes she spoke again. He liked the sound of her voice, it was soothing.

"Well, this is awkward." He smiled at the Deanism behind it. He looked up shyly to see her face. She stuck out her hand. "I'm Jessica."

He hesitated a moment before taking it. "Sam."

And that's how it started. She found him crying, not even sure why, but she had wanted to help him. Like she was supposed to be there to help him through something that she didn't even understand.

You are my hope, You are my strength, You're everything, Everything I need

Eventually Sam told her everything…well exempting the part where Dean was his brother and that they hunted things that weren't supposed to exist. But she knew that Dean and he had been together, and it had meant more to Sam than just sex. Just a quick fuck on the lonely nights on the road when they couldn't find a woman to scratch a particular itch.

No, Jessica knew just about every detail. At least all the important ones that mattered. So she tried to help, and gradually things started to get better for Sam.

She started spending every night with him, beginning in the library…and slowly moving him back to his dorm. But he didn't sleep when he was in bed with her. She would sleep, but he would lie awake, rigid, thinking about how awkward and not right it felt for her to be there with him. After a few weeks he began to relax and even fall asleep for a few minutes at a time. After four months, Sam was finally sleeping through the night again. In a bed...without Dean.

You are my hope, You are my life, You are my hope, You are my hope

The hole inside his chest had not been magically fixed, but somehow just being around Jessica made life a little more bearable. It was just a little more easier to go through the motions of the day with her by his side. And, yes, he kissed her and hugged her and slept in the same bed with her…but it was different.

Sure, she was special, but there was nothing sexual between them. Never had been and if she had ever wanted more, she did a damn fine job of hiding it. When she touched him in bed it was usually for his own comfort and when she wrapped her arms around him it was to give him strength when he knew he was losing it.

There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't think of Dean, and there wasn't a moment where he didn't second guess his decision to leave. He was in a constant battle with himself and the only person keeping him sane was Jessica. He didn't know if she knew it or not, but every so often he came close to losing it…and then she was there.

She became almost the equivalent of Dean. Protecting him and saving him…and then she died. She was ripped away from him just like his mother. She was missing from his life just like his father. And she was gone just like his brother.

Far beyond what I can see or comprehend, Etching your eternity in me

He was falling, struggling with no hope and nothing to grasp onto. The mist was swirling around him as he plunged from the cliff into the nothingness that threatened to swallow him whole. All the wounds that had been patched were ripped wide open again, and there was no one there to catch him this time before he hit the ground. No one except the one person that he thought he could no longer count on.

Right before his body was impaled through the dirt and into the fires hell, he caught him…startling him so suddenly by just appearing there. Like he had just been waiting for the moment to step in and safe his Sammy one more time.

Dean.

The name was barely off his lips before Dean had wrapped his arms around Sam and yanked him out of the burning room. Things passed before Sam in flashes. He vaguely recalled talking to the police and the fire crew before Dean had him inside the Impala. The question was given by Dean with a look.

Nations stream and angels sing, "Jesus reigns", And every knee bows down , You're the hope of all the earth

After Two years apart, Sam could still read every word that Dean wanted to say to him, but couldn't get them to pass his lips. Tell me what you want, Sammy. Sam looked away, unable to face the truth that he didn't know what the hell he wanted and he didn't think that he ever did know.

His heart was beating so hard against his chest that it was threatening to break through. He looked out the window and blindly searched for his brother's hand. He found it easily enough because Dean was already moving to give it to him. That was all the answer that Dean needed, apparently still being able to understand Sam's actions after two years. Take me away, there's nothing here that I want.

He let go of his hand only to put the car into gear, and then he had it back in his grasp.

You are my hope, You are my strength, You're everything, Everything I need

They had been on the road for three months, nothing had really changed. They hadn't talked about what had happened back at Stanford. They didn't talk about the way that things were before Sam left. Sam didn't say anything about Jessica, and Dean didn't ask…but somehow Dean still made everything feel right.

Sitting beside Dean in the Impala and faking sleep so that he could listen to his brother sing quietly along with Black Sabbath or Rush made Sam regret ever leaving. Leaving their father, quitting the job, abandoning Dean. Really the only thing that Sam didn't regret was meeting Jessica.

Jessica…every time that he thought of her he began to drop again. As though his chest had become so heavy that he could no longer bare to stand. And then he looked at Dean.

For the past three months Dean had barely let Sam out of his sight, not knowing what would happen if he looked away for too long. And when Sam looked at him with pleading eyes, like he was a lost soul that didn't know what to do, all Dean could do was grasp his little brother's hand, because he wasn't ready to let Sam close to him again. Not in the way that he craved.

You are my hope, You are my life, You are my hope, You are my hope

At five months, Dean started to get irritated. Every other word that came out of Sam's mouth seemed to piss him off more and more. And although Sam knew this he couldn't seem to keep his own pent up anger at bay. No matter how much he knew that Dean didn't deserve the bitter words that he would lash out every now and again, he couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut.

The night that Dean walked out of the motel room after a blowout, nearly cost Sam everything. Everything that their father had taught him. Everything that Dean had done to protect him. And everything that Jessica had done to save him. He sat on the bed and looked over at the brown, worn duffle bag sitting on the table. He looked away.

One of his knees started shaking, and he looked back towards the bag. An image of Jessica flashed in his mind and he looked away again. He clasped his hands together tightly and then released them. Tight, release. Tight, release. He looked at the bag and stood up. He took a step towards it, then two steps back and ran a shaky hand through his tousled hair. The sight of Dean walking out of the room flashed through his head and he bit his bottom lip as he practically ran for the bag.

He tore the bag open and grabbed one of the glocks that Dean had in the bag. He popped the cartridge out and checked the ammo and then rammed the piece of metal back into the gun. He pumped the top to cock it and made sure that the safety was off.

Still he hesitated.

"Go back, then! I don't need you!"

Dean's words rang coldly in his head. He inhaled deeply once. Twice. And again before lifting the gun. Just as he was bringing the tip to the soft spot just over his the side of his brow the door opened.

Carry on and I sing of how, You love and I love you now

Dean stopped dead in his tracks when he saw his brother. Sam watched the shock and fear race across Dean's face and he faultered. Sam thought for sure that Dean wouldn't have cared one way or the other if Sam had covered the walls with his blood, but the look on Dean's face made him wonder if Dean was actually feeling what he said he was feeling.

He took a step in the door and Sam, like a frightened child caught and cornered, took three steps back. Dean held up his hands and closed the door. Sam swallowed and look at the floor, the walls, the window…anything but Dean as he lowered the gun a little.

Dean didn't move closer, but he sighed. "Sammy, what are you thinkin'?"

Sam didn't answer, but he looked up at Dean with pleading eyes. Couldn't Dean see that he had been on the same path for two and a half years? That he didn't know what he wanted and he didn't know what to think about anything anymore.

Couldn't he see that he was lost. That he was confused. And that he had never felt so alone in his life.

Dean took a hesitant step towards him and gestured at Sam's hand. "Give me the gun, Sammy."

Sam shook his head, but didn't move when Dean took another step towards him. And another. Another. Until he was standing right in front of him. Sam saw him swallow, but his eyes never left Dean's and Dean's never left his.

He felt Dean's hands rest on his hips. One hand slipped under his shirt and his thumb began caressing his skin. The other slowly moved up his chest and slid around the back of his neck. Dean gently pulled his head down until their foreheads were touching. Sam relaxed slightly and Dean's hand began to move again. It slid from his neck to his shoulder, and further still until is came to rest over top of Sam's that was holding the gun.

Sam released the gun when he felt the pull of Dean's hand on the cold metal. He closed his eyes, not ready to face Dean, who moved away when Sam let go of the gun. He heard the faint click of the safety being put back on and the light click of the gun being placed on the table. He expected more words or at least some form of a lecture on what a complete idiot he was being.

What he didn't expect was the light touch of Dean's hand against his cheek and the smooth sensation of Dean's hand grasping his own. Still he didn't open his eyes. The hand on his face moved down to clasp his other and he felt the patient tug asking him to follow…and he did, blindly. Always trusting Dean.

Dean laid him on the bed and straddled him. He put Sam's hands over his head, still clasped with his own, and began to place feather light kisses all over Sam's face. On his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, his temples, his chin and finally coming to rest on his lips.

"I love you, Sam." Dean choked out a breath of air. "And I need you like I need nothing else."

Those were the only words that Sam needed to hear. He fell into a deep sleep with the memory of Dean's lips on his throat…until the nightmares began.

All the times that I start to sink, You come and you rescue me

He could barely stand the blinding red hot pain that shot through his entire body. His jaw snapped shut in a weak effort to lessen the pain in his head. It hurt like nothing had hurt before. Like his blood was boiling and his skin was going to be viciously ripped open. All he could see was black and he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. He was suffocating.

Something was shaking him. Rubbing his head, and shoulders and chest. He gasped and opened his eyes to the brightness of the sunlight infiltrating the room. Dean's worried face was the first thing that he saw when his eyes focused. His brows were furrowed and Sam had never before seen the blind panic that was in his brother's eyes.

He grabbed Sam and hauled him into a fierce hug. Sam inhaled in his brother's neck, loving the husky scent that was just pure Dean. Dean's hands went into his brother's hair and he seemed to be making sure that Sam was still Sam and that he was all in one piece. He felt wetness on his face and looked down to see that Dean's shirt was wet where his eyes had just been…He was crying.

Dean was rocking and mumbling words.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy. I didn't…" He pushed Sam back to hold his face in his hands and look him in the eyes. "I didn't know."

Didn't know that Sam had been hiding the nightmares for over five months. That anytime that Dean had questioned about his sleep, Sam had never confessed as to how bad they really were. How painful.

You are my hope, You are my hope

Nothing from the past seemed to matter anymore. Not to Dean, and if Dean had gotten past it, then Sam was determined to as well. Sam had started to explain how things had been with Jessica, but Dean had shrugged it off. Not wanting to hear the details. But Sam had pushed, needing Dean to understand that the only reason he lasted so long on his own wasn't because he was strong…it was because he had found someone that could ease the pain. But she was never Dean.

Dean had accepted that, and told Sam that nothing mattered. Nothing except finding dad, and finding out why he was having such violent nightmares. Dean promised things would be different, and for once Sam promised the same thing.

And when Dean said that things were going to be okay, and that they would make it through the bump in the road…Sam believed him. Because as long as Dean was with him everything would be okay.