Lost In Transit, The mail always goes thru...right?

[cindy123]

I recieved an email from one of my readers, hotshow, who said she had an idea for a story and asked if I could put her idea to words. I liked her idea and told her I'd give it a shot. The story revolves around the missing amulet. I'm thinking the story will be 5-10 chapters. I am in the process of writing three stories: this one, the sequel to The Deal and the next 3 brothers story. Yeah, I know...crazy! But I have so many folks wanting to these that I couldn't choose just one to work on first. Anyway....

Summary: Set in Season Five and Season Six so it is spoilery. Sam knows he's never going to see his brother again...not from where he's going so, he sends him a letter with a little something extra thrown in. When he finally gets his soul back and sees that Dean is not in possession of the 'little something', he begins to question whether Dean really is happy to have him back. We also have Uncle Bobby...so yay!!

Disclaimer: Don't own them, just borrowing. No money is coming my way!

And away we go!!

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Lost In Transit

The mail always goes through…or does it? A story written around the missing amulet and prompted by an idea provided by hotshow. I hope I do your idea justice my dear.


Spoilers through Season Six

Chapter 1

Sam stood and watched, his heart shattering into a million pieces as Dean unceremoniously dropped the amulet…the token of pre-teen Sam’s love and devotion to his brother…into the trashcan before the elder brother walked out the door without so much as a backwards glance. If Dean had meant to hurt Sam with the gesture, he’d done a damned good job of it. Sam swallowed against the lump in his throat and blinked back the tears that had welled in his eyes. He deserved it, he understood that. He’d betrayed his brother and now he was being punished. Apparently, the harsh words at times and the silent treatment at others wasn’t enough punishment in Dean’s eyes. Apparently he felt the need to send a message that Sam would…could never forget. We’re not brothers anymore…maybe in blood, but not in heart..not in spirit.

Sam swallowed again then walked to the door. He hesitated before looking down into the small trashcan. The amulet lay on top of the wadded up fast food bags and empty beer cans, the once beloved object now nothing more than garbage to be thrown out and forgotten. Sam took a step through the door then stopped. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t just leave it there. He backed up, crouched down then gingerly pulled the necklace from the can. He stared down at the object in his hand, his mind traveling back all those years ago to the night he’d given it to his brother. He’d been so happy that night despite the fact that John had broken his promise to be with them at Christmas. The way Dean’s face had lit up when he’d seen the amulet. The way he’d reverently pulled the leather cord over his head then fingered the amulet as it hung around his neck. It had been the best Christmas Sam could remember, but now…now it meant nothing.

“Sam! Get your ass in gear! I’ll leave without you if you’re not out here in ten seconds!” Dean hollered, breaking Sam from his memories.

Maybe it’d be better if you did, Sam thought as he pushed the amulet into his pocket and rushed to the Impala. Dean looked at him, face unreadable, before he slid behind the wheel of the car. Sam tossed his duffel bag into the trunk, slammed the lid shut then eased into the passenger seat. He pulled the door shut with as little noise as possible then glanced over at Dean. Dean looked away as he backed out of the parking space and raced across the parking lot to the street beyond, tires squealing as he sprayed gravel out behind them in a thick cloud of dust.

“Dean,” Sam began, but his voice was immediately silenced when Dean reached forward and turned the stereo on, The Bitch is Back blasting through the car’s interior to the point where it made Sam’s ears hurt.

Sam sighed as he leaned back against the seat and turned his head to look out the side window. All he could think was that it was going to be a very long day.

SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN

Sam glanced down at the three envelopes spread out before him on the post office counter. One envelope was addressed to Dean, the other two to Bobby. One envelope read Bobby-Open First and the other simply read Bobby. Sam sighed as he gathered all three envelopes together, Dean’s envelope on the bottom of the stack, and stuffed them into a bigger, padded envelope. The large envelope was addressed to Bobby’s junkyard with no return address provided. Where Sam was going, there was no return address. He sealed the envelope then stuck several stamps over the upper right hand corner…more than enough postage needed. He wouldn’t be around when the package was delivered. He wouldn’t even be alive. He had a date with Lucifer and it would be a date that he would never return from.

Dean had fought him…had fought him hard, but in the end Sam had won. He’d be spending eternity in Hell, locked inside a cage with the Prince of Darkness while hopefully, the world and especially his brother got on with their lives, the threat of global annihilation nipped in the bud before it could ever begin.

Sam shook his head to clear his thoughts then turned and dropped the envelope into the mail slot on the wall behind him. He walked out into the bright sunlight and proceeded down the street to the motel where hopefully Dean still was sleeping. He stopped at the diner along the way and picked up breakfast…all of Dean’s favorites. He figured maybe his brother would eat a little bit at least that way. Arms laden with takeout bags, he pushed open the door to he and Dean’s motel room and stepped inside. Today would be his last day with his brother and Sam could not stop the tears as they began to fall freely from his eyes. Thankfully Dean was still asleep and Sam had time to pull himself together before he awakened the older man. He set the containers out on the small table then strolled to the bed. He watched Dean for a moment then reached down and gently shook his shoulder.

“Hey, Dean…I’ve got breakfast,” Sam said softly as two bleary, green eyes blinked up at him. His heart stuttered in his chest when Dean’s hoarse, sleepy voice whispered back at him.

“Sammy.”

sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn

Dean was motionless as he kneeled on the ground at the spot where Sam had disappeared, Michael in Adam’s body falling right along with him. Dean was all alone now, his reason for just about everything lost to him forever. Sam had just committed the most selfless act known to man, save for Jesus dying on the cross, and Dean was left to live a life without his brother. He would go to Lisa and Ben, he’d promised Sam that much, but his heart really wasn’t in it. He heard a faint rustling and suddenly, Castiel was there. He really couldn’t be bothered to care. The next few minutes were a blur, his mind still swirling around the notion that he’d never see Sam’s smile, or bitchface ever again. He’d never hear him whine about the music being too loud…never be drawn into a chick-flick moment and God, but he just wanted to lay down and die at the thought.

At some point that Dean really couldn’t recall, Bobby had been brought back at Castiel’s touch. He was thankful for that, even though Bobby could never take Sam’s place. His face and body had been healed, but the pain he felt deep inside would never go away. Dean gave the spot where Sam had fallen into the pit one last glance then turned to accidently catch sight of his reflection in the window of the Impala. Yes, the cuts and bruises were gone and Dean’s body was whole again, but his heart was shattered and there would never be a time where that would be repaired. Slowly, he lifted a trembling hand to his chest, fingers searching for something he knew wasn’t there. The one thing that could have brought him some sort of solace was gone, thrown away and forgotten until now and with that thought Dean left the cemetery, hi s hand still clutching at the spot where the amulet once lay.

sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn

Hazel eyes blinked open to stare up at the blades that turned slowly in the ceiling above. A soft groan sounded as the young man sat up and the needle in his arm pulled at his skin. Sam followed the IV line up to the nearly empty bag that hung beside the cot and frowned, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What the hell?” Sam whispered hoarsely as he looked around the room. “Bobby’s?”

He pulled the IV line from his arm then gingerly swung his legs over the edge of the cot and stood, knees wobbling like a newborn colt and head spinning as dizziness from his sudden change in position swept over him. He sat back on the cot and squeezed his eyes shut as he drew in several deep breaths. Finally, when his head had stopped spinning, he opened his eyes and gazed around. He was still in the panic room, much to his surprise.

“This can’t be Hell,” he said as he once again stood, his knees behaving themselves this time around.

Sam walked to the open door of the panic room and carefully stepped outside. He went to the steep wooden stairs and glanced up at the door at the top. He slowly ascended the stairs then eased the door open. He heard faint voices coming from somewhere in the house and his heart skipped a beat when he realized who one of the voices belonged to. He stepped into the room then slowly made his way toward the voices. The voices led him to Bobby’s den and he couldn’t quite believe his eyes when he saw both Bobby and Dean there.

“Dean?”

Dean turned around, eyes going wide as they lit upon his upright and very much awake little brother. Sam wasted no time in rushing toward Dean and throwing his arms around the older hunter. He held on for dear life and didn’t know what to think at first when Dean hugged him back with just as much gusto. Finally, they pulled away and Sam’s eyes moved to Bobby. Bobby was alive! He’d been killed at the cemetery, but here he was. Sam rushed to his old friend and threw his arms around him. Bobby flinched then reluctantly hugged Sam back. Sam frowned at the older man’s reaction. He’d expected that reaction from Dean, not Bobby. After all, with the way he had beaten Dean that horrible day, Lucifer at the wheel, he wouldn’t have expected Dean to even be here. He was supposed to be with Lisa and Ben, living a normal life like he’d promised. Of course, Sam didn’t know how long he’d been gone so maybe Dean hadn’t gotten that far yet.

Sam pulled away and turned back toward Dean. He glanced down to his brother’s neck and his heart dropped. Sam looked up at Dean’s face, at the relief he thought he saw there. Dean seemed genuinely happy to see him. Sam couldn’t figure it out. He thought they had been good before he threw himself into the pit. He thought they’d become brothers again. If Dean was happy…relieved to see him, then where was it? Where was the amulet? Sam glanced back over at Bobby and wondered…could Bobby have not given Dean his envelope when he’d received the package? And if that was the case…then why? Sam shook his head slightly, unwilling and unable to think about it right now. Either Bobby had tossed the package…or at the very least stuck it away somewhere, or Dean had refused to put the amulet around his neck again. Sam swallowed at the thought. Could Dean still hate him and just be putting on a very convincing show? Or could there be another explanation? Sam decided that it was neither the time nor the place to ask that question. Maybe someday, but not today. It was just a piece of jewelry after all.

TBC

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Well, that's it for now. Will post more as soon as I can. Please let me know what you think.

Cindy

[Bec]

That was great! I've missed reading your stories!

[aislinn]

Another amazing start. Can't wait for more.

[cindy123]

Thank you, thank you, thank you!! Here's chapter two.

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Chapter 2

Bobby hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at his now very cold, very unappetizing meal and sighed. He drew a hand over face and shook his head.

“Dragons…why the hell they popping up all of the sudden?” he grumbled under his breath.

Bobby pushed back in his chair, picked his meal up and went to the kitchen where he tossed the entire bowl into the garbage can. He opened up the fridge door and pulled out the covered sauce pan and placed it on the stove. He turned the heat to low and wondered if he’d ever be able to finish a meal without being interrupted. He pulled another bowl from his cupboard and stood watch over the chili he was reheating. He let out a sharp curse when there was a sudden knock at his door. He gave the chili a quick stir then rushed to the door, the cranky hunter flinging the door open and letting it bang against the wall.

“What’s a guy got to do to be able to eat in peace!” Bobby snapped at the poor man who stood, eyes wide in surprise and fear, on his porch.

“Uh…Bobby Singer?” the man asked shakily.

“Yeah…who’s askin’?” Bobby replied shortly.

“Um…I have a delivery. Are you Mr. Singer?”

“Didn’t I just say I was? Are you deaf or somethin’?” Bobby sighed as he pushed the screen door open and reached his hand out toward the man.

The man swallowed as the cranky man reached for him then he gingerly placed the tattered, padded envelope in his outstretched hand. “It…it was somehow misplaced and…well…sorry for the delay,” the man murmured.

“Delay? Let me see that,” Bobby demanded as he looked down at the envelope. He looked at the original postmark and blew out a breath. “This is postmarked from over a year ago! How the hell could it have been misplaced for all of this time?”

“I…I don’t know, sir. I just deliver the mail,” the man answered then abruptly turned and hurried down the steps to his waiting mail truck.

Bobby watched as the man drove away then stepped back and shut the door. He moved to his den and dropped the envelope onto hi s desk then picked it up again before giving it a quick shake. He turned it over looking for a return address, but found nothing. He reached down to his drawer to retrieve his letter opener when a pungent smell reached his nose.

“Dammit!” Bobby growled as he flung the package and dashed for the kitchen. The envelope hit the floor and slid before becoming halfway wedged beneath a pile of stacked newspapers.

Bobby rushed into the kitchen, eyes widening at the smoke billowing from his now cremated chili. He grabbed the pot handle and let out a yelp as the hot metal burned his palm. He reached for a potholder and finally got the smoking pot off of the stove. He turned off the burner then hurried to the sink to run his hand under cold water, the envelope all but forgotten.

SN SN SN SN SN SN SN SN
A Few Hunts Later

Dean pulled himself up the stairs to Bobby’s front porch, Sam trailing slowly and equally tiredly behind. The past weeks had been brutal, what with dealing with the dragons then the freaky spider dude in Rhode Island and the revelation that Sam had been to that town before. The things that Sam had done while there with Samuel had surprised both he and Dean and had left Sam struggling to come to terms with the person he had been back then. The memories had allowed other deeper, darker memories to surface…memories of fire and agony. Memories that had pushed Sam to the point of collapse, his body seizing on the dirty floor before finally falling limp and unresponsive, his panicked brother begging him to wake up, to come back to him.

Dean had wanted to drag Sam back to Bobby’s after that incident, but then the hunt that turned out to be the spirit of a young woman seeking revenge on the men who had killed her in a botched practical joke had dropped in their laps. That hunt had ended with the young woman’s sister dying on the cold asphalt at their feet, the one thing keeping the spirit earthbound buried deep in the sister’s body. Her death had hit them both hard. In the midst of all of that, Dean had been drawn away from the hunt by Ben’s frantic call. Dean had rushed to Lisa and Ben, only to find out that while Ben had told him Lisa was in trouble, the truth was he’d just wanted Dean back in their lives, the boy not understanding why it could never be.

So, here they were, a bit worse for wear, coming home so to speak. Back to the only place other than the Impala they could ever call home. Back to the man they had come to regard as their surrogate father. Dean fully intended on staying put for awhile…a long while. Sam needed the rest, needed to stay away from the hunting life and they for damned sure weren’t going to follow anymore mysterious texts with coordinates. Sam didn’t need to be reminded anymore of what he’d done in the year of living soullessly. He had enough to worry about and surely didn’t need help scratching at that wall. Dean had just gotten his brother back…his real brother back…he was bound and determined that he was not going to lose him again.

Dean stopped when he reached the porch and turned to wait for his brother. Sam looked like hell, looked like he was ready to collapse at any moment. Not for the first time Dean wondered if maybe he should take the younger man to the doctor to have his head checked. With all of the trauma his body had endured lately, first by having his soul forced into him which led to a 10 day coma, then the seizure that Dean had been sure was going to take his brother away from him, Dean was afraid that some real damage could have been done. He brushed the idea aside, as he had done every other time he’d thought about it, as he knew what Sam’s response would be and Dean no longer felt like he could merely boss his brother around and force him to go get checked out. Besides, how would they explain it to the doctor if there was something wrong? They couldn’t tell the truth and Dean was hard pressed to come up with a plausible explanation. So, a doctor’s visit was out, for now.

Dean stepped back when Sam finally reached the porch then he took his younger brother’s arm and began to lead him toward the door. “Dean, I’m fine. I don’t need you holding me up,” Sam said, though his voice sounded anything but fine.

“First of all, I’m not holding you up and second, you’re not fine. You look like you’re ready to face plant on Bobby’s porch and I sure as hell don’t want to have to get you up if that happens. Just work with me here, Sam,” Dean scolded as he guided his brother to the door.

Sam stayed silent as he allowed Dean to lead him into the house. They could hear Bobby rattling around back in the kitchen and both brothers smiled despite their exhaustion. They’d let the older man know they’d be there today so he was undoubtedly making them a home cooked meal to make up for the diner food they’d been living on the past few weeks.

“Couch or bed?” Dean suddenly asked as he turned to look at his brother.

“Huh? What?” Sam replied.

“Couch or bed? Not a hard question, Sammy.”

“Dean, I…”

“You’re sleeping.”

“I’m fine.”

“You didn’t sleep for over a year, Sam…”

“I just slept for 10 days straight and I’ve been sleeping since.”

“That was called a coma…not the same as sleeping. Plus, you haven’t been sleeping that well since then. I’m going to see if I can help Bobby and you’re going to take a nap. Now, couch or bed?” Dean insisted, the older brother’s gaze telling Sam he had no choice in the matter.

Sam sighed as he rolled his eyes then he gave Dean a soft smile. “Couch,” he said as he pulled away from Dean’s grasp and shuffled to the couch. “You need to get some sleep to you know,” he said as he collapsed onto the couch and leaned over to take off his boots.

Dean shrugged as he watched Sam remove his boots before lying down on the worn cushions. “I’ve been sleeping better than you, Sammy. I’m gonna let Bobby know we’re here then I’ll get our stuff out of the car,” he said.

“Dean, don’t worry about our stuff. I’ll help with that later,” Sam said.

“It’s no big deal. I want to get my baby cleaned out anyway so I can check her over. Want to make sure that nothing happened to her while she was possessed,” Dean replied.

“Can’t that wait until tomorrow?” Sam asked. “Come on, Dean…just take a break for awhile…for me?” Wide, hazel eyes stared up at him and Dean had to chuckle at that. After everything that had happened, Sam hadn’t lost his ability to pull the puppy dog eye look when he wanted to get his way.

Dean shook his head as he turned toward the kitchen. “Fine,” he said while turning to look over his shoulder. “I’ll wait ‘til tomorrow, but you’re helping me, bitch.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, jerk.” Sam smiled as he closed his eyes and it didn’t take but seconds for his breathing to even out and his body to slip into much needed sleep.

Dean smiled as he turned back toward the kitchen. “Lucy! We’re home!” he called gleefully, the young man chuckling as he heard his friend cursing to himself.

Bobby turned away from the stove and watched as Dean entered the kitchen. “So, you’re finally here. About damn time!” he grumbled as he turned back to the meal he was preparing.

“Well hello to you too, old man,” Dean said as he reached into the fridge for a beer.

“Old man, my ass! You and that brother of yours are what make me old!” Bobby snapped, though a slight smile curled his lips. “Speaking of…how is Sam?”

Dean turned his head to look in the direction of the living room. “Sleeping right now,” he answered. “God, Bobby…it was terrible. I didn’t think he was gonna come back,” he added softly.

Bobby turned at the sudden change in Dean’s voice. The young man looked pale and scared. “Sit down, Dean,” the older man commanded.

Dean nodded and pulled a chair from the table and sat. Bobby sat down opposite him and watched his young friend for several moments before speaking. “I’ve seen the kid seize before…I know how scary it is. My question is, why didn’t you bring him back here immediately? Why did you take on another hunt?”

Dean sighed as he shook his head. He took a long swallow from the beer bottle before gazing over at his friend. “Sammy thinks he has to make up for all that he did when he didn’t have his soul. I guess I never should have shown him anything about that dead janitor. I should have dragged his ass back here instead of running off to Lisa’s…”

“Wait…what? You went to Lisa’s? When?” Bobby asked.

“During the last hunt. Sam stayed to investigate and…”

“You left Sam alone!? Dean, what were you thinking?” Bobby cried.

Dean shrugged as he pushed the beer bottle away from him. “I was thinking Lisa was in trouble. Sam told me to go. I wasn’t gonna, but he told me to go,” he finally answered.

“And you listened to him? Since when do you listen to Sam?” Bobby asked, his heart going out to the stressed out young man before him. “Dean, I know you love Lisa, but Sam…”

“I know, Bobby, but at the time I thought Lisa was in trouble and Sam was not going to leave the hunt. He did fine…he did damned good actually. Anyway, I won’t be seeing Lisa ever again so it doesn’t matter,” he continued as he dropped his eyes to the table.

Bobby brushed his hand over his face and sighed. “Look, Dean…I ain’t judging you. I’m sorry if it sounded that way. I just…Sam’s vulnerable right now whether he wants to admit it or not. I understand that you had a situation to take care of and I know how stubborn your brother can be. I’m having a hard time right now dealing with things that happened, but I still love that kid. I just don’t want to see anything happen…to either of you idjits,” he said.

Dean looked up and nodded. “I got it, Bobby. Rest assured, I ain’t leaving him again,” he said.

“Well…good. Now, I better get to that dinner before it burns,” Bobby said as he stood and moved back to the stove.

“Hey, Bobby?” Dean called from his seat at the table.

Bobby turned and looked down at his surrogate son. “Yeah?” he called back.

“Uh…are you ever going to be able to get past it? What Sam did?” Dean asked, green eyes staring pleadingly up at the older man.

Bobby sighed as he shrugged. “He tried to kill me, Dean. Meant to bleed me for some ritual or something. I mean, I know it wasn’t our Sam, but still…kinda hard to forget. I’m really trying though. Like I said, I still love that kid,” he answered truthfully.

“I know you do, Bobby. I hope you can get past it. Sammy needs you,” Dean said.

“Not as much as he needs you,” Bobby replied.

“No, maybe not, but he still needs you. I don’t mean to put pressure on you, but…well, it bothers him.”

“Did he say something?”

“No, but I can tell. He’s not going to say anything. He doesn’t think he deserves forgiveness, Bobby, but he does. It wasn’t him…not really,” Dean answered.

“I know it wasn’t and I’m trying…I’m really trying,” Bobby said.

“I guess that’s all you can do,” Dean murmured. “Thanks, Bobby.”

Bobby watched Dean for a few moments before he spoke again. “I’m going to get past this, Dean…it’s just gonna take some time. Now, why don’t you go get some sleep like your brother. This sauce is gonna take some more simmering before it’ll be ready,” he said.

“Nah, I’m okay, Bobby,” Dean answered.

Bobby cocked his head and stared pointedly at his young friend. “It wasn’t a request, Dean,” he said. “Now git…go upstairs and get some sleep. I’ll wake you both when dinner’s ready.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he pushed back from the table. “Yes, sir,” he said before standing and walking from the room.

Bobby watched him go then turned back to the stove. “Idjits are gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled as he stirred the spaghetti sauce, all the while praying the he would indeed be able to forgive Sam, but wondering how he ever really could.

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Several Days Later

Sam stepped silently into Bobby’s den, hazel eyes immediately landing on Bobby’s bowed head. The man was deep in thought as he studied one of the hundreds of books in his cluttered office. “Uh…Bobby…can I talk to you for a minute?” Sam asked as he eased up to Bobby’s desk.

Bobby looked up and without thinking, drew back and away from Sam. He cursed himself as he saw the pained look that flitted across Sam’s face before the young man was able to table his emotions. “What do you need, Sam?” he asked.

Sam pulled a chair up to the desk and sat down, his eyes never fully meeting Bobby’s eyes. “I…uh…I was just wondering…um…if…” Sam stammered, the young man seemingly unable to put his thoughts together enough to come up with a complete sentence.

“Sam…I’m kinda busy here,” Bobby snapped without thinking. “Damn-it,” he whispered under his breath as he watched Sam shrink away from him.

“I’m sorry…I just…I sent you something and…well…I was wondering…”

“Sent me something? What did you send me?” Bobby asked, the man able to control his mouth this time.

“It was…I sent you…um…”

“Look…I don’t have time for this. If I got something from you, it probably got thrown away by…” Bobby started.

“I…I understand. Sorry to bother you, Bobby,” Sam rushed as he quickly stood and hurried from the room.

“Sam! Boy…get back here!” Bobby shouted as he leapt to his feet, but the sound of the back screen door slamming let him know that the young hunter had not heard him. “Crap,” he muttered, the old hunter dropping back down into his chair and running a hand over his face. He shook his head then went back to his research. Rufus would be calling soon and Bobby wanted to have something to give him to help with his current hunt.

Sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn

Sam stumbled down the back steps to Bobby’s house and ran toward the rusted out cars that were piled in rows in the back yard. He found a secluded spot and dropped down onto the dusty ground, back leant up against the hard metal of an old station wagon. He drew his knees up and rested his arms across them. He gazed up at the blue sky before dropping his eyes to rest upon his hands.

“He threw it away. He recognized my handwriting and he threw it away,” Sam cried brokenheartedly. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered before he dropped his forehead to his arms and wept.

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Hope you enjoyed. More to come.

Cindy

[lcaron3]

WOW that is good.

Can't wait for more. Please post soon.

[Bec]

That was wonderful! Now get back here and keep writing! Sammy needs Dean!

[aislinn]

Ok, you can't leave it there. You can't.

Ok so you did, but you shouldn't have. Uhm, curious as to how Dean will handle Bobby after this.

Please update soon. Pretty please.

[cindy123]

Thank you guys! Glad you're enjoying it so far. Sorry for the delay...been so busy!! Anyway, here's chapter 3.

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Chapter 3

Dean and Sam looked around and surveyed the damage to Bobby’s house. Wind howled through the broken window, rain drenching everything it touched as it blew in with the gusts.

“Bobby’s gonna be so pissed,” Sam muttered miserably, his tone drawing Dean’s attention to his suddenly pale face.

“Uh, yeah, he may not be too happy about it,” Dean started as he stared with confusion at what he could only determine to be fear on his little brother’s face. “But, he’ll get over it, Sammy. Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?” he added with a cock of his head.

“N-No, just…all his stuff is getting wet and well…,” Sam stammered, his hazel eyes glancing over at his brother before dropping to the suddenly very interesting floor.

“Sammy, he’ll understand once we tell him what happened,” Dean said, the older hunter stepping up to the younger. “What’s going on?”

Sam looked up and swallowed deeply. “It’s just…well, you’ve seen how he’s been around me since I came back. I think maybe you should tell him about the alternate universe, or whatever it was, that we were sent to. He…he may not believe me,” he said softly.

“ Sam, come on…don’t think like that. Bobby’s fine with you. You’re just being paranoid,” Dean stated as he slapped his brother good naturedly on the back.

“I don’t think so, Dean,” Sam mumbled as he began to pull what he could out of the path of the torrent of rain that was coming through the window.

“Did something happen between you two?” Dean asked as he too began to move things out of the destruction zone.

Sam looked up at Dean and slowly shook his head. “No…nothing happened. Just a feeling I get when I’m around him. It’s stupid…forget I said anything,” he answered.

“Sam…”

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m just being overly sensitive I guess. It’s no big deal.”

Dean watched Sam as the younger, but larger hunter dived into the task at hand. “Okay, fine. I’ll see if I can find some plastic or something to cover that window ‘til we can get it fixed,” he finally said.

Sam nodded, but didn’t look up from his chore. He listened as Dean raced to the stairs that led to the basement then stood up and brushed a hand through his disheveled hair. He couldn’t talk to Dean about what was going on. Couldn’t tell him about the package he’d sent before he went to Hell. The amulet was gone, no reason to bring it up now that he could never give it back to his brother. It would only dredge up hurt feelings and Sam felt as though he was walking on egg shells as it was. He didn’t need his brother hating him too. It was bad enough that Bobby hadn’t been able to forgive him for everything that had happened, he wouldn’t be able to take it if he learned Dean hadn’t either.

Sam looked down at what still remained to be moved out of the way and noticed a stack of papers that were slowly getting soaked. He leaned over and began to shove the pile toward the wall behind Bobby’s desk. He glanced up when Dean walked in with a roll of commercial plastic in his hands. He abandoned the pile of papers and rushed to his brother’s aid. He never saw the manila envelope that protruded from the bottom of the pile.

sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn

“A little help here!” Bobby’s voice shouted from the hall prompting Dean to rush out of the den to help his obviously grumpy friend. Dean took a look at the bags in Bobby’s arms and smirked.

“We averted the Apocalypse Bobby, no need to buy the stores out.” Dean reached for the bags and relieved the older man of his burden.

“Ha, ha…very funny! There’s more in the truck smartass so you best git a move on,” Bobby snapped before his eyes roamed the hall, in search of something. “Where’s that brother of yours?” he asked.

Dean glanced toward the den and tipped his head toward it. “Your office,” he answered. “Oh, hey, Bobby…I think he thinks you hate him or are mad at him for some reason. Is everything okay? I mean, I know you’re a bit uncomfortable still, but things seem to have changed the past days,” he added.

Bobby brushed his hand over his face and blew out a deep breath. “That’s between Sam and me. I’ll go talk to the idjit, you go empty out that truck,” Bobby said shortly.

“Why do I have to empty out the truck? Geez, I have to do everything,” Dean whined as he repositioned the bags in his arms.

“Why do I have to empty out the truck?” Bobby mimicked with an eyeroll. “What are you, five? Just go get the rest of the supplies while I go talk to that brother of yours,” he commanded before turning and walking toward the den.

Dean watched him, mouth gaped open then moved toward the kitchen. “I do have to do everything,” he muttered to himself. “It’s ‘Dean, do this…Dean, handle that. Dean, wash the dishes…Dean, pick up your underwear. ’ Sheesh, didn’t know I was a slave,” he continued as he placed the bags on the kitchen table and hurried down the hall to finish bringing in Bobby’s purchases.

Bobby entered his den, eyes immediately finding Sam pressing the final piece of duct tape into place at the window. All thoughts of what he was going to say to the young man fled from his mind when he took in the destruction of the room. “What in the friggin’ hell happened in here!?” he snapped as he turned and surveyed the room.

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin at the angry voice and he turned quickly to see Bobby glaring at him from across the room. “I…it wasn’t…it…” he stammered, but he was unable to get the words out.

“Spit it out boy! What did you do to my house?” Bobby hissed, the sudden look of fear and sadness on Sam’s face making him regret the harshness of his tone.

“It was Balthazar…uh, he…he was here and…”

“And what, Sam? He broke my window, messed up my papers?” Bobby asked, voice calmer now as he watched Sam shrink away from him. “Look, Sam…I…”

“I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m sorry for everything. The plastic should hold until we get the window fixed. I’ll pay for it,” Sam blurted as he headed for the entryway. “I’m really sorry,” he added as he disappeared into the hall.

“Sam! I didn’t mean to sound…Sam! Get in here, boy!” Bobby called, but the sound of the kitchen door slamming shut told him that Sam was no longer in the building. He dropped his eyes and shook his head. “Way to go, Singer,” he whispered before making his way around his desk and sitting heavily in the chair.

A few minutes later, Dean walked into the den and stared down at his old friend. “Bobby, where was Sammy going? What’s going on?” he asked as he moved up to the desk.

Bobby looked up and sighed. “I suppose he’s going on one of his famous walks, though I don’t think it’s a good idea in this weather,” he answered tiredly.

Dean furrowed his brow and felt anger well in him. “He didn’t go for a walk…he took that old jalopy out back! What happened in here? What did you say to him, Bobby?”

Bobby leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “I was gonna talk to him about the other day, but then I saw the mess in here so I asked him what happened. I guess I sounded accusatory or something. Poor kid looked like a deer in headlights,” he replied.

“So, you blamed Sammy for this? Bobby, he already thinks you hate him!” Dean spat.

“I didn’t blame him, but…I did kinda yell and I suppose, knowing Sam, he would take it as being blamed. And, I don’t hate him. I love that boy and you know it!”

“I know it, but he doesn’t. What happened the other day that you need to talk to him about?”

Bobby leaned forward and looked up at Dean. “He came in here a few days back or so and was asking about something he sent me. I was working on this thing for Rufus and I had no idea what he was talking about. He seemed pretty upset though…ran outa here like a bat out of…well, you know. Anyway, he’s been keeping his distance since then,” he answered.

“So, did he say what he sent? When did he send it? Did he say anything?” Dean asked.

“No…didn’t really get the chance to get it out of him,” Bobby said, his eyes scanning the room. “So, what happened in here, Dean? Sam mentioned Balthazar?”

“Uh…yeah. The dick showed up here, spouting how we were all in danger…sent Sam and I through the window when an angel hitman showed up. We ended up…somewhere over the rainbow I guess,” Dean answered.

“You ended up…some place else? Tonight, while I was in town?” Bobby asked suspiciously.

“Yes, Bobby…we ended up in some alternate universe or something. All of this…our lives, all of it was a TV show. Sam and I were actors…Jensen something or other and Jared Pastylicki or…I don’t even know what his name was supposed to be. Anyway, the people there thought we were these two actors…Cas was there, but it wasn’t Cas, it was some doofus named Misha,” Dean said with a roll of his eyes. “Oh, and Ruby was there…well, the actress who played Ruby was there….Genevieve I think was her name. And get this…she and Sam, I mean Jared were married!” he added cheerily.

Bobby stared, incredulous look on his face as Dean continued to recount the details of he and Sam’s trip. When the young man was finally finished talking, Bobby stood up and rounded the desk. He stepped up to Dean and raised a finger to the young man’s face, running the finger down his cheek before pulling it away and holding it close to his eyes. Dean jerked back and glared at the older hunter.

“What the hell, Bobby!”

“So, you were wearing make-up were you?” Bobby asked with a gleam in his eyes.

“Not anymore!” Dean shouted indignantly. “It was that Jensen dude, not me! I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.”

“Oh no, you definitely did the right thing by telling me…Jensen,” Bobby chuckled.

Dean rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated huff. “Look, I’m gonna go to town and look for Sammy. Kid’ll get himself in all kinds of trouble if he’s out there on his own in the mood he’s in. I’ll be back as soon as I find him.”

The smirk left Bobby’s face and he sat down on the edge of the desk. “I’m really sorry I upset the kid. Just go find him and get his butt back here. I’m gonna work on getting my office back together,” he said.

“Yeah,” Dean murmured as he turned and left the room.

Bobby heard the front door open and close then soon after, he heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine as it roared to life. He listened as the rumble faded away then he turned to once again survey the mess in his office. He sighed as he went to the kitchen and retrieved a mop from the broom closet. Several minutes later, the water was cleaned up from the floor and Bobby started to move things back into place. It took nearly an hour, but finally almost everything was back to where it belonged. All that remained was the pile of papers and magazines and then he would be done. He leaned over and began to push the pile toward the wall near the window, when suddenly the pile dumped over and scattered across the floor.

“Ah hell,” Bobby cursed under his breath as he dropped down onto his knees and began to pull the scattered papers together.

As he was reaching for the last magazine, something that didn’t belong with the papers caught his eye. He reached for what turned out to be a manila envelope and suddenly, his memory caught up with him. This was the letter that had been delivered a few weeks back, though it was postmarked from over a year ago. The postman had said it had been misplaced. Bobby stood and moved to sit at his desk. He turned on the desk lamp and peered down at the envelope. He turned it over, trying to determine who had sent it. The handwriting looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He pulled the letter up to his face and squinted at the postmark. “Detroit?” he whispered with confusion before suddenly it all became clear. His eyes widened as he realized how badly he had screwed up. “Ah sh*t…Sam,” he said before ripping open the envelope.

Bobby reached into the envelope and pulled out three smaller envelopes. The top envelope was addressed to him with the words ‘Open First’ printed on it. Bobby opened the letter and began to read.



‘Hey, Bobby,

I know this is a lot to ask after everything that’s happened, but I couldn’t send this to Dean. I wouldn’t even know where to send it to. I asked him to go to Lisa’s, but knowing him, he’ll dive head first into hunting so I’m asking you to make sure he gets the letter I’ve included with this package. It’s really important to me and I know that you’ll make sure he gets it. There’s a letter for you too. Thanks, Bobby.

Love, Sam’



Bobby swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat as he set the first letter down. Sam had sent this the day before he sacrificed everything and threw himself into the pit. He’d gone to Hell with the knowledge that his final words to his family would be heard, but the package had been lost. That’s why he was so upset. That’s why he had run out of the office that day. He must have thought that the package had been thrown out based upon what Bobby had said to him.

“Ah, Sam…I’m sorry. I should have remembered the letter,” Bobby murmured to himself. He looked down at the two remaining envelopes and picked up the one addressed to Dean. Something other than a letter was inside and Bobby wondered what it could be. He put the letter back down, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on the brother’s privacy. He tore the other envelope addressed to him open and pulled out the letter within. Tears filled his eyes as he read the words his surrogate son had written to him on the last day of his life.



‘Dear Bobby-

This is so hard, writing this to you. I know that I screwed everything up, that I betrayed you and Dean. I thought I was doing the right thing. I let Ruby get her claws in me and I’m so sorry for everything that happened because of my weakness. It’s just that she promised me so much. She said she could help me avenge Dean, that by killing Lilith, Dean would be set free. I wanted to believe it so badly. Dean didn’t deserve to be in Hell. That distinction belongs to me. I’m the one who should have gone there, not him. Well, I guess it’s about time I fix that.

You’ve been so good to Dean and I, Bobby. I love you like a father. Hell, you’ve been as much a father to me as my own father was. I loved Dad so much and I feel just as much for you. I’m sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. You may never believe it, but I’d die for you, Bobby. It’s time for me to show you that.

I hope that someday you can forgive me for all that I’ve done. If I’d have known what was going to happen, I would have made sure that I broke Dean’s deal. That way, I would’ve died and Dean would’ve lived and you all could’ve finally lived your lives free of all the crap having me around caused. Please take care of Dean. Make sure he keeps his promise and doesn’t try to find a way to get me out. I’m going to where I deserve to go. I’m finally making things right. For Dean, for you and for everyone.

I love you, Bobby,

Sam’



Bobby set the letter down on the desk and drew his hand over his wet eyes. He glanced out the window and shook his head. “Damn kid,” he whispered softly to the empty room. “There’s nothin’ to forgive, son. There’s nothing to forgive.”

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Well, that's it for now. I hope you liked it and will let me know.

Cindy

A/N: Okay, so for some reason it won't let me use italics so the letters that were supposed to be in italics...well...aren't! Bummer. Anyway, just wanted you to know they were supposed to be in italics. :/













This post has been edited by cindy123 on Apr 11 2011, 04:14 AM

[Bec]

Hurry and find Sam Dean! Great update!

[aislinn]

Amazingly wonderful as usual. Could feel the emotion from those letters. Update soon, pretty please.

[lcaron3]

That was awsome!

Poor Bobby, he now understands and feels really bad about Sam.

Can't wait until Dean reads his letter.

Please post soon.

[cindy123]

Thank you guys...glad you're enjoying it. I have the next chapter ready for you. You may need tissues...but, Dean's letter will have to wait until the next chapter.

Warning: there is some 'language' in this chapter that may be offensive to some people. It is not meant to offend, but to show how ignorant some people can be. Just thought you should know. Thanks.

Cindy
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Sam clunked the shot glass down on the bar and nodded his head toward it when the bartender looked his way. The bartender, a man looking to be in his late thirties grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and filled the shot glass.

“Thanks,” Sam murmured as he pushed a few bills toward the man. He held the shot glass in his hand, twirling it in his fingers, bloodshot hazel eyes staring intently at the amber liquid as it swirled in the glass. Finally, he lifted the shot glass to his lips and swallowed down the whiskey in one gulp. He was about to order another shot when he felt someone grasp his arm lightly. He slowly turned his head to see a young, attractive brunette standing beside him, head cocked to the side, dark eyes staring up at him seductively.

“Hey, handsome…buy me a drink?” the brunette asked coyly.

“Uh…yeah…sure,” Sam said before motioning to the bartender.

The bartender prepared the young woman’s drink and set it on the bar in front of her. “Thanks, Jimmy,” the woman said as she lifted the drink from the bar and slipped the straw between her lips, dark eyes never leaving Sam’s face. “So, I haven’t seen you in here before…you just passing through?” she asked as she pressed her body up against Sam and slowly sucked on her straw.

“Yeah…just passing through,” Sam answered with disinterest as he turned and tapped his shot glass again. Another shot was poured and soon it was burning Sam’s throat.

“My name’s Kaley…what’s yours?” the woman asked, her body pushing against Sam, her intentions quite clear to the intoxicated hunter.

Sam glanced over at her then went back to staring at his empty shot glass. “Sam,” he replied flatly.

The woman craned her neck to see Sam’s face and smiled when he looked at her from the corner of his eye. “So…Sam…do you want to get out of here? Go to my place…get sweaty?” she asked.

Sam sighed and turned to face the young woman. “Look…while that sounds fun and all, ’m not really in the mood. I jush wanna have a few drinks an’ be left ‘lone,” Sam slurred slowly.

The young woman pulled back and set her drink heavily down onto the bar. “Excuse me?” she exclaimed incredulously.

Sam shook his head and ordered another shot. “’m not in’erested,” he said as he paid for his shot.

The woman put her hands on her hips and glared at the young hunter. “Have you seen me? You’re going to pass this up? What…you think you’re better than me or something?” she spat.

Sam shook his head again as he looked over at the angry woman. “No…’m not better’n you…not better’n anyone,” he answered softly. “Jus’ wanna be left ‘lone to drink in peace,” he added.

“Screw you, jerk!” the brunette hissed before turning and storming toward a group of men playing pool in the back of the bar.

Sam sighed as he lifted his shot to his lips and drank. He set the shot glass down and stared down at the bar. He ordered another, but before he had the chance to drink it, he was grabbed by the arm and jerked none too gently off his bar stool. He turned to see an angry face glaring at him. The face belonged to a man who stood at least two inches taller than Sam and who it seemed had double the bulk of the young hunter.

“You got a problem with Kaley, dickhead?” the enormous man hissed as he pulled Sam toward him. “Think you’re too good for her?”

“Like I explained to the lady…not really in the mood,” Sam said, the adrenaline now coursing through him helping to sober him slightly.

“Not in the mood, huh? Interesting,” the hulk said contemplatively. He looked up at a man who had moved in behind Sam and cocked his head. “What do you think, Ed? Do you think he’s just not in the mood?” he asked sarcastically.

“Nah, Pauly…I don’t think that. You know what I think?” Ed answered, equally sarcastically.

“No, Ed…what do you think?” Pauly asked with a grin.

“I think the dude’s gay…that’s what I think,” Ed replied.

“Really…gay, huh? Well, that would explain things,” Pauly said.

“Ah, come on…’m not gay,” Sam said as he rolled his eyes and tried to pull his arm out of Pauly’s steel like grip.

“Then how do you explain the girly hair do?” Pauly asked. “And, passing up a chance with Kaley? Definitely gay,” he added with a hiss.

“You two really need to tone down on the testosterone,” Sam quipped.

Pauly glared at Sam then moved his attention to his friend. “So, Ed…what do ya say we show this a**hole what we do to faggots,” he hissed sinisterly.

“Oh yeah, he definitely needs to learn a lesson,” Ed answered excitedly. “Wonder if he bruises easily, like a peach,” he added with a chuckle.

Sam knew at that moment he was in trouble and that his only chance was to hit first and to hit hard. Before either man knew what was happening, Sam swung his right fist and caught Pauly on the jaw. The large man lost his grip in Sam’s other arm as he stumbled back, his eyes wide with surprise. Sam swung around and landed a punch to Ed’s gut, the slightly smaller man doubling over as the air was forced from his lungs. Sam lunged forward and plowed into the still recovering man, knocking him into the table behind him. He brought his arm up, hand fisted and ready to strike when suddenly, his arm was grabbed and he was ripped off the struggling man. He was jerked around and before he had a chance to know what was happening, a fist slammed into his face knocking him back into the now standing Ed. Ed grabbed his arms and pulled them painfully behind his back. Sam fought, but before he could pull his arms free, Pauly landed another blow to his face followed by a punch to his gut. Sam’s legs collapsed beneath him and it was only the arms that held him that kept him from hitting the floor.

Pauly grabbed the hair on the back of Sam’s drooped head and yanked it up viciously. He leaned in close until they were face to face, a snarl curling his lip. “You fight pretty good for a fruit, but in the end you’re still just a faggot and we don’t like your kind around here,” he spat. He nodded at Ed and the smaller man let loose of Sam’s arms. Sam would have slid to the floor had it not been for Pauly’s tight grip on his hair and the next thing he knew, he was bent over and a knee was being driven into his side with agonizing ferocity. Sam was let loose and he dropped to the floor with a thud. He gasped as he attempted to catch his breath, the hunter curling in on himself when fists and boots began to pummel him from every direction. It was apparent to Sam that others had joined in the melee. His world darkened as he began to slip away and soon, the darkness enveloped him and the pain went away and then he knew nothing.

sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn

Dean drove down the darkened street, green eyes ever vigilant on their search for Sam. “Dammit, Sammy…where the hell did you go?” he whispered to himself as he made a right turn onto the main drag in town. He passed several bars, but paid them very little notice. Sam wasn’t one to drown his sorrows in alcohol, but then again, Dean thought, Sam wasn’t the same little brother anymore. He reached the end of the ‘bar district’ and turned the Impala around then drove back down the street, this time his attention on the bars he’d ignored just moments before. As he passed the last bar, a rusted out green truck caught his eye and he slowed down to take a better look. “Bingo!” he exclaimed as he recognized the truck his brother had hijacked at Bobby’s house.

Dean whipped the Impala into the parking lot beside the bar and parked next to the truck then exited the Impala. There were only a few other vehicles besides the one Sam had driven so Dean hoped he’d find his brother drunk and contemplative, but otherwise no worse for wear. When he stepped into the bar however his hopes were dashed as he saw several men punching and kicking a curled up man on the floor…a curled up man with shaggy brown hair and boots just like Sam’s. Without a seconds hesitation, Dean screamed into the bar and tore the first man he came to off of his brother. One well placed punch later and the man was sprawled unconscious on the floor. Two more men dropped as they lunged for Dean then the hunter turned his focus on the two remaining men. One of the men’s nose was swollen and bloody and Dean smiled to himself. “Way to go, Sammy,” he whispered to himself as he inched his way around his brother to place himself between the two men and Sam.

“So, who the hell are you? The little faggot’s boyfriend?” the biggest man sneered as he moved slightly to Dean’s left.

“I’m his brother you piece of sh*t,” Dean hissed back. “And nobody hurts my brother,” he added with a growl.

Pauly paled slightly, but recovered quickly and glared defiantly at the enraged man before him. “So, what are you gonna do about it? You’re brother’s bigger than you and he went down like a marshmallow,” he taunted.

Dean chuckled, his attention on both men though he only appeared to watching the one in front of him. “Well, it looks to me like he did a bit of damage, sport. Besides, I’m stone sober and pissed as hell. Like I said, nobody hurts my brother. Those that do fall and they fall hard,” he hissed.

A slight movement to his right had Dean reacting on instinct. He grabbed the chair next to him and swung, catching Ed in the chin and driving him backwards into the bar. The man dropped to the floor in a heap and didn’t move. Dean turned just in time to see Pauly lunging for him. He jumped to the side, but not fast enough to avoid being bulldozed into by the huge man. Both men went to the floor in a tangle of arms and fists, but Dean was the one who made it to his feet first. Pauly scrambled to his feet, but the second he was upright he was caught in the jaw by a strong upper cut. He was out before he ever hit the floor. Dean glared down at the man as he shook the pain from his hand. He spun around when he caught movement behind him, fist ready to do more damage. He stopped abruptly when he saw a young woman with brown hair cowering a few feet away, brown eyes large and filled with fear.

“I got a feeling you’re the cause of all this…am I right?” Dean spat fiercely.

“I…I didn’t know they’d hurt him…I…I…” the woman stammered.

“Sister, I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck. Let me guess, you came onto him and he turned you down so you got your buddies to get him back for you. Does that sound about right,” Dean said as he stepped back and glanced quickly down as Sam began to stir.

The brunette’s eyes widened as she stared ahead, but she said nothing. Dean shook his head and knelt down beside his brother. “Yeah, thought so. Sammy ain’t the kind of guy you pick up in a bar. You knew exactly what would happen to him once you told your guard dogs here so don’t play stupid with me. Now, get you’re a** outa here before I break my vow to never hit a woman,” he growled.

The young woman wasted no time in leaving the bar and Dean shook his head at the stupidity of some people. He glanced up over the bar and glared at the bartender who warily watched his every move. “So, you normally just watch as the locals beat people nearly to death?” he spat before turning his full attention onto his brother.

“I…I’m sorry, but I know better than to get in the middle of their fights,” the bartender defended.

“Ever hear of calling the cops?” Dean snapped as he gently uncurled Sam and cupped his cheek. “Hey, Sammy…you need to wake up for me,” he called softly before beginning to assess the damage to the younger hunter.

“Mmm…gah…” Sam moaned, his eyelids fluttering before they slowly opened to reveal dull, bloodshot eyes. One eye was a deep purple and was swelling fast and Dean knew by looking at it that it would be swollen shut before too long. He leaned over Sam and waited for the hazel eyes to focus. Finally, recognition spread across Sam’s face and took a relieved breath. “Dean,” he whispered as he leaned into his brother’s touch.

“Sam, what is it with you? Why do you draw all the nasties to you?” Dean asked softly. “Do you think you can sit up?”

“Uh…yeah…I think so,” Sam panted.

Dean nodded before slipping an arm beneath Sam’s torso. He waited for Sam to give the okay then when Sam nodded he gently lifted his upper body up until Sam was sitting upright and leaning against Dean’s chest. “We gotta get you outa here before these goons come to. Do you think you can stand?” Dean asked, voice filled with urgency and concern.

“Um…I don’t know…I can try,” Sam whispered and right then and there Dean knew he was hurting pretty badly. If he weren’t, he’d huff and say that he was fine and to stop babying him. Dean looked up and over at the bartender then narrowed his eyes.

“Make yourself useful and help me get him up and out to my car,” Dean demanded. He chuckled when the bartender jumped and ran from around the bar. The bartender moved to Sam’s other side and grabbed him around the waist, pulling a quick gasp from the beaten hunter. “Easy with him!” Dean snapped angrily as he glared over at the smaller man.

“S-Sorry,” the bartender stammered. He loosened his grip a bit then together, he and Dean lifted Sam from the floor. Once they had Sam up, Dean looked over at his brother’s face. Sam was pale, a sure sign that he was hurting, but the younger man was trying as hard as he could to remain upright without putting too much weight on either of the men holding him.

“You good to start walking, Sammy?” Dean asked as he readjusted Sam’s arm over his shoulder.

“Y-Yeah…lets go,” Sam breathed out.

“Okay…easy. I don’t want him falling,” Dean said as he turned his attention to the man on Sam’s other side.

The bartender nodded and together, he and Dean walked Sam out the side door of the bar and to the waiting Impala. “Wow…nice car,” the bartender exclaimed as he saw the black beauty.

Dean glared over at him and shook his head. “Really? My brother’s beaten nearly to death in your bar while you just watch and you’re complimenting my car?” he hissed incredulously. “Shut up!”

“Sorry…I just thought…sorry,” the bartender said softly.

“Just…shut up and help me get him into the car without damaging him any further,” Dean spat.

The bartender swallowed as he looked over the angry green eyes that glared at him. He helped Dean ease Sam into the front seat then stood back as Dean lifted Sam’s long legs into the car before carefully shutting the door. Dean turned and looked at the bartender. “Thanks for the help…and if the cops get wind of this you better make damn sure they know who started the fight ‘cause if they come sniffing around Sammy, I’ll be back here and you’ll get the same treatment those a**holes just received,” he warned.

“Don’t worry…those jerks won’t call the cops and I won’t either,” the bartender said.

“What about the girl?” Dean asked.

“No…she won’t either. Not with what they’re all into…they don’t want the cops anywhere near them.”

“Good,” Dean quipped before hurrying around the Impala and climbing in behind the wheel. He started turned the key and the engine roared to life. The bartender watched as Dean peeled out of the parking lot then hesitantly turned to return to the bar. He really didn’t want to go in there and face the men when they came to, but he couldn’t leave the bar and it’s till unattended either so he took a big breath then walked inside, counting his lucky stars that the scary man with the intense green eyes didn’t pound him into oblivion like he’d done with the others.

Dean sped toward Bobby’s place, the worried hunter glancing frequently over at his slumped passenger. Sam was conscious, but barely and all Dean wanted was to get his brother home where he and Bobby could properly assess the damage the gang at the bar had inflicted. Sam groaned as Dean hit a pothole in the street and Dean flinched at the pitiful sound.

“Sorry, Sammy…we’re almost home then Bobby and I will take care of you,” Dean said as he reached across the seat and gently patted Sam’s arm.

“N-No…Bobby hates me…he threw the package away,” Sam murmured as he looked up through chocolate colored fringe to stare at Dean with pain filled hazel eyes.

“Bobby doesn’t hate you, Sam…he’s worried about you. Would he be worried if he hated you? And, what package are you talking about? Did you get your head hit or something?” Dean rambled, his fear raising a notch at what could possibly be a head injury.

“The package…sent it before…Bobby…” Sam muttered, but fell silent and Dean glanced over worriedly to find that Sam had passed out.

“Dammit…Sammy? You need to stay awake until I can check you over,” Dean called, but Sam remained still and silent. “Sam! Wake up!” Sam jerked at Dean’s shout then glanced up and squinted at his brother. Dean breathed a sigh of relief and smiled over at Sam. “Stay awake until we get to Bobby’s. I don’t know if you have a concussion or not,” he commanded.

“Bobby hates me,” Sam whispered as he dropped his eyes and pulled his arm across his body.

“No he doesn’t Sam…just stay with me for a little longer okay?” Dean said as he pushed the gas pedal down a little bit more.

Five minutes later and Dean was pulling up to the front porch of Bobby’s house. The storm had since passed which Dean was considerably grateful for. He looked toward the house, but decided he didn’t want to waste time getting Bobby to help him with Sam. He scrambled out of the car and hurried to Sam’s door. He pulled the door open, his hand automatically reaching in to make sure Sam didn’t tumble out onto the wet, cold ground. He patted Sam’s shoulder and smiled when Sam turned his head and looked up at him.

“We’re home, Sam. Let’s get you into the house where it’s warm okay? You can walk can’t you?”

Sam nodded and reached for Dean’s offered hands. Dean eased Sam out of the car then pulled his arm over his shoulder. He moved Sam away from the car then slammed the door shut. Slowly they made their way toward the porch then even more slowly ascended the steps. Sam stumbled once and nearly fell, but Dean held on tight and was able to keep them both on their feet. Finally, they reached the front door and Dean reached for the knob, but before he could turn it, the door swung open and Bobby was standing there with a very concerned look on his face.

“About time…” Bobby started, but when his eyes moved over to Sam he gasped. “What the hell happened to him!?” he cried before quickly moving to Sam’s other side and helping Dean maneuver the larger man through the open doorway.

“He got jumped at a bar downtown. I think they would’ve killed him if I hadn’t shown up. They thought he was gay, Bobby,” Dean explained as they moved Sam into the living room and gently laid him down on the couch.

“Why would they think he was gay?” Bobby asked as he stood back and watched Dean begin to remove Sam’s jacket.

Dean looked up and shook his head with disgust. “From what I gathered, some chick came onto him and he turned her down. Guess that’s all it takes around here,” he answered.

“Yeah…got some backward thinkers around these parts,” Bobby replied. “Well, let’s get the kid checked over and get these cuts taken care of. I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Bobby turned to leave, but Sam’s weak voice stopped him in his tracks. “Bobby? ‘m sorry…I wish you didn’t hate me…”

“Aww, kid…I don’t hate you and it’s me who should be apologizing, not you,” Bobby replied, but Sam’s eyes had closed and he wasn’t sure if the young man had heard him or not. Well, he’d make sure he heard him after he woke up. Bobby turned again and headed for the kitchen where he kept his first aid kit. He returned to find that Dean had Sam stripped down bare on his torso and had his shoes off. They young man was already evaluating Sam’s injuries. He looked up and smiled slightly as Bobby knelt down beside him.

“No bump on the noggin so I don’t think he’s got a concussion. He may have some cracked ribs though,” Dean said as he went back to taking care of his brother. “Don’t know what all that nonsense about a package being thrown away was all about,” he added with a shake of his head.

Bobby glanced at Sam’s bruised and battered face and nearly lost it. Sam was in this condition because he’d driven him away. He’d treated Sam as if everything that had happened was the kid’s fault when he knew none of it was and now the kid was passed out on his couch, beaten to hell and thinking he hated him. He sighed as he gently rested his hand on Sam’s leg.

“Uh…Dean…he wasn’t talking nonsense. There was a package, but it didn’t get delivered until a few weeks ago. I’d forgotten about it until you left to find Sam. Found it when I was putting the den back in order,” Bobby said regretfully.

Dean looked over at him questioningly. “There is a package? He said you threw it away…what’s he talking about?” he asked.

“He thinks I threw it away because when he first asked about it, I’d forgotten about the envelope I’d received. I was really busy and getting irritated…I told Sam that maybe it’d gotten thrown away,” Bobby answered.

“But, you didn’t throw it away…you say you found it?” Dean asked.

“Yeah…I did. I wish it had been delivered way back when it was supposed to have been then…”

“Wait…when was it supposed to be delivered?” Dean asked.

“Dean…he sent it the day before he threw himself into the pit. There was a letter for me and a letter for you,” Bobby answered softly.

“Over a year ago? What happened to it? Why did it take so long to get here?” Dean cried as he looked down at his sleeping brother.

“The guy who delivered it said it got lost or some lame crap like that,” Bobby replied.

“Did you read your letter?” Dean asked.

“Yeah…I did. Made me realize a few things, that’s for sure,” Bobby answered.

“What about mine? Where is it?” Dean asked nervously.

Bobby sighed and pushed up to his feet. “I’ll get it for you,” he said before leaving the room.

A few minutes later, Bobby returned and handed Dean the envelope. Dean looked at the writing on the outside and felt his stomach knot within him. Something bulky was inside and Dean was almost too afraid to open it. Bobby patted him on the shoulder then silently left him to open his letter in peace. Dean smiled gratefully at Bobby’s retreating form before he carefully ripped open the envelope and looked inside. Tears immediately sprang to his eyes when he saw what Sam had sent him. He looked down at his brother and felt his heart swell. He reached down and tenderly brushed the hair from Sam’s eyes then rested his hand on Sam’s chest.

“You kept it, Sammy. After everything happened, you still kept it,” Dean whispered before pulling the amulet from the envelope and slipping it over his head so it could finally rest in the only place it was meant to be.

Dean swallowed deeply as he removed the letter next. He unfolded the paper and slowly began to read, the tears falling freely down his cheeks as his brother’s torment and love was laid out before him in the scratchy scrawl of Sam’s writings.

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Well, that's it for now. Will post more soon. Take care.

Cindy

[aislinn]

Right there with you. Poor Sam. Yeah for Dean getting there in time. I feel for the bartender, poor guy, probably to afraid to call the police even though he should have.

The amulet is back where it belongs.

Another great update my dear.

[Bec]

That was so good! I can't wait for the rest

[cindy123]

Thank you aislinn and bec. I appreciate your comments so much! So, do you want to read Sam's letter to Dean? Well, okay then! Here it is

Cindy

Oops...forgot: TISSUE ALERT

A/N: I didn't 'censor' some of the words that frankly, I don't think I should have to censor, so if you see some words that don't sound right, well, it was probably the site.
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Dean,

Where do I begin? By the time you read this, well, you know. I’ll have finally set things right. Made amends for all of the pain I’ve caused. I hate leaving you, we were just learning to be brothers again, but you know as well as I do that this was the only way to stop Lucifer. It had to be me, Dean. I had to be the one to do this, no matter how mad you are at me. God, I’m going to miss you so much. I already miss you.

Please don’t think that I ever hated you, Dean. I know that I made some messed up decisions and screwed everything up, but everything I did, I did for you. Even when it looked like I put Ruby before you, I was thinking about you. I was thinking that I had to make things right again. For you. She just had me so turned around that I couldn’t see straight. She had me believing that following her was the only way to end all of this. Once you came back, she already had my head so screwed up, but I should have listened to you. I should have found a way to break free of her hold. Now, I have to do this and leave you and I’m so sorry.

You’re everything to me, Dean. You are my entire life. Since we were kids you’ve always been there for me. You’ve taken care of me, protected me, stood by me even when I didn’t deserve it and I can never repay you for that. The day you threw the amulet away was the day I knew that things would never be the same again. It was the day I realized I’d screwed up so badly that you would never see me the same way again. You would never see me as your little brother. It killed me inside to know that I’d hurt you so badly that you would throw the one symbol of our bond away. I don’t blame you at all for doing it, but I couldn’t leave it there. I just couldn’t. I don’t know why I kept it. I guess I was hoping the day would come that I would redeem myself in your eyes and that I could give it back to you.

I’m hoping that day has come. I’m giving the amulet back to you. You don’t have to wear it again, but I really hope you do. I hope that I’ve done enough to redeem myself in your eyes because that’s all that matters to me. How you see me. How you remember me. Please remember me, Dean. Please remember me for what I’m doing now and not what I did before. Please remember me as your pain in the ass little brother and not the stranger I became. I know it’s a lot to ask, but it’s all I have to take with me into the pit. It’s the one thing I’ll have to hold onto.

I love you, Jerk. I love you so much and I always have, no matter what it looked like. I know what you’re thinking. “The little bitch had to say goodbye with a chick flick moment.” Well, you’re right. Once more for old times sake I guess. Please keep your promise and go to Lisa and Ben. Please have a happy, normal life. If anyone deserves it, you do. Keep in touch with Bobby too.

Goodbye, Dean.

I love you,

Sam

Dean let out a sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh as he read the final paragraph. He wiped roughly at the tears that trickled down his cheeks then looked down at Sam’s pain etched face.

“God, Sammy…how did we let things get so far out of hand?” he whispered as he reached out and brushed the stubborn hair from Sam’s face. “You didn’t screw things up all on your own. You had plenty of help with that…me included. We’re going to have the mother of all chick flick talks when you wake up, Sam. There’s a lot that you need to hear from me. Things you should have heard a long time ago. You sleep now. I’ll be here when you wake up,” he said as he stood and pulled the knitted blanket from the back of the couch and gently covered his slumbering brother.

Dean watched Sam for several minutes then looked down at the letter in his hand. He reached up with his other hand and reverently fingered the amulet around his neck. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the weight of the necklace and tears welled in his eyes again as he thought of the pain his action had caused Sam. One simple little thing and he had managed to send a message to Sam that he wasn’t even sure he had intended to send. He’d just been so angry and hurt, but he now realized that what he’d done in that simple action was so much worse and so much more hurtful. He’d had a choice and he’d decided to simply throw Sam’s gift away. Sam really hadn’t had a choice, not when Dean really thought about it. If he hadn’t had gone with Ruby, he’d have been killed long before Dean was pulled from hell. Dean would have come back to no Sam and that just wasn’t acceptable.

Finally, Dean shook himself from his thoughts and glanced once more at Sam. He was dead tired, but he had no intention of leaving Sam so he pulled the armchair from across the room over to the couch and plopped down heavily onto its warn cushion. He read the letter again then carefully folded it back up. He rested his head back against the chair back and let his gaze fall upon Sam’s battered face. He wished he could go back to the bar and do more damage to Sam’s attackers, but that would entail leaving Sam’s side and he had no intention of doing that. He was exactly where he needed to be, exactly where he wanted to be. With those thoughts in mind, his green eyes slowly closed and he fell into a much needed slumber.

A few minutes later, Bobby stepped into the room, a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. He looked first at Sam then at his softly snoring brother and smiled. He walked to the couch and set the coffee cup down on the side table then pulled another blanket from the end of the couch. He looked down at Dean, his eyes landing on the amulet as it lay against Dean’s chest.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Bobby whispered. “About damned time that necklace found its way back to you, son.”

Bobby pulled the letter from Dean’s fingers and set it on the table next to the coffee cup then proceeded to drape the blanket over Dean’s relaxed form. He stepped back and glanced at his boys before turning and leaving them to their rest. He’d come back to check on them later, but for now he needed sleep too. He trudged up the steps to his room and lay down on his bed without bothering to remove his clothing. He’d be up in a few hours anyway so there was no sense in taking the time to change into sleep clothes. He closed his eyes and soon he too was off in the land of nod.


sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn sn


“Dean! Dean, wake up!” Bobby called urgently as he shook the young man’s shoulder.

Dean was up and on his feet before he was even fully awake, his body instinctively moving in front of the couch, shielding his brother from whatever dared to attack them. He swung a fist, but his arm was grabbed and pulled down before he could land the punch.

“Dean! It’s me…Bobby!” Bobby shouted as he gave Dean’s shoulder a hard shake.

Dean widened his eyes then let his body relax when he saw there was no threat to Sam. “Bobby! What the hell? You scared the crap out of me,” he cried.

“Something’s wrong with Sam! He’s not breathing properly,” Bobby replied urgently.

Dean spun quickly around and dropped to his knees next to the couch. He could hear a soft wheeze, could see the more pronounced lines of pain on the struggling man’s face. “What the hell!” he cried softly as he rested his hand on Sam’s forehead. “He feels warm,” he said as he looked up at Bobby.

“I think we should get him to the hospital,” Bobby suggested.

“I don’t know. As soon as they see how beat to hell he is, they’re gonna call the cops,” Dean said, his green eyes intently watching each stuttering rise and fall of Sam’s chest.

“I think we’re gonna have to risk it. He may have a punctured lung or something serious like that,” Bobby said.

“I checked him over…didn’t feel any broken ribs,” Dean replied. “I guess I could have missed something though,” he added.

Bobby scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “Okay, well…I could call Doc Turner. He’s got a clinic about twenty miles from here. He won’t call the cops and he knows about what we do. It’s just that, well, he’s a bit old and cantankerous,” Bobby offered.

“So, he’s just like you then?” Dean asked with a grin.

“Shut up you damn idjit!” Bobby snapped as he turned and headed for his den.

Dean turned back to Sam and cupped his warm cheek. “Hey, Sammy…you think you can wake up for me? Tell me where it hurts?” he coaxed, but all he got in return was a pathetic moan followed by more wheezing. “Son of a bitch,” Dean swore under his breath.

Bobby rushed back into the room and up to where Dean was crouched. “Well, he ain’t happy about being woken up in the middle of the night, but he said to get Sam to him as soon as possible,” the older man huffed as he stared down with worry at the two brothers.

“Uh…okay. We’re gonna need to get him out to the car without his help, Bobby. I can’t get him to wake up,” Dean said from his position next to the couch.

“Let me get my boots on and then we’ll get him to the doc’s place,” Bobby said before once again rushing from the room.

When he returned, Bobby found that Dean had gotten Sam somewhat dressed and sat up. Sam’s eyes were open, but just slightly more than slits as he sat, his head bobbing weakly as Dean readied him. Dean looked up as Bobby approached. “He woke up when I went to sit him up. He’s in a lot of pain, but he’s not really coherent enough to tell me where he hurts,” he said.

“I’m betting he pretty much hurts all over,” Bobby said as he moved to the couch to help Dean get Sam to his feet.

“Sammy…we’re going to lift you up now. I’m sorry, but it’s going to hurt, but we’ve got to get you to the doctor,” Dean explained as he craned his neck to see Sam’s face.

“N doc’r,” Sam murmured weakly.

“Sam...your breathing isn’t right and you’re running a fever. We gotta take you in,” Dean replied.

Sam glanced up with dull, pain filled eyes. He met Dean’s gaze, though he had to blink several times before Dean saw that he was focused in on him. “’kay, D’n…if y’ say so,” he whispered.

Dean smiled and patted Sam’s arm then reached an arm carefully around his back. Bobby moved to Sam’s other side and did the same and together they pulled Sam up to his feet. Sam hissed in pain, his knees buckling beneath him. Dean and Bobby managed to keep the hunter on his feet, but barely. They pulled Sam’s arms over their shoulders and slowly began to make the trek to the front door. Once out onto the porch they began the arduous task of getting a nearly unconscious Sam down the steps. It seemed to take forever, but finally they reached the last step then it was only maybe ten feet to the Impala. Dean opened the back passenger door and climbed in then helped Bobby carefully guide Sam down onto the seat. Bobby lifted Sam’s legs and swung them into the car as well. He smiled when Dean pulled Sam to his side, the younger brother’s head falling to lay upon the elder’s shoulder.

Bobby rushed around to the driver’s door and quickly got behind the wheel. The keys were still in the ignition, a testament to just how worried Dean had been earlier. Soon, the car was speeding down the drive and toward Doc Turner’s clinic. Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling Sam from the car and guiding him into the clinic where an old and par with Bobby’s assessment, cantankerous man waited with a scowl on his face. Dean took one look at the old doctor and immediately began to have second thoughts about letting this man touch his brother. Sam was in pain and he certainly didn’t need someone being rough with him.

“Uh, Bobby…I don’t know about this,” Dean whispered as they settled Sam on the examination table the doctor pointed them to.

“I know how he looks, but he’s not going to hurt Sam,” Bobby whispered back.

“Okay…step away and let me get to work. You drag me outa’ bed, now let me do my job!” Doc Turner grumbled as he pushed up to the examination table. “I need you both out of here! You can wait in the other room.”

“I’m not leaving my brother,” Dean growled, green eyes narrowed as he stared the old doctor down.

Doc Turner narrowed his eyes in return before finally shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself. Just keep back so you don’t get in my way,” he said gruffly.

Dean made a sound deep in his throat, but before he could do anything, Bobby grabbed his arm and pulled him back away from the exam table. Dean watched, hands fisted at his sides as the doctor began to pull Sam’s clothing away from his chest. Sam was barely conscious and moaning softly, the sounds of his misery pulling at every protective-big-brother thread in Dean’s body. If it weren’t for Bobby’s strong grip on his arm, he’d have been right back at the table ready to fight the doctor if he had to. As it was, he watched every move the doctor made, ready to move no matter who held him back if the old man hurt Sam in any way. His eyes widened a bit though as Doc Turner began his exam. As rough as he’d been with Dean and Bobby, he was the exact opposite with his patient.

With hands that surprised Dean with their gentleness and grace, the doctor began to press along Sam’s torso all the while whispering reassurances to the young man. Next, he listened to Sam’s heart and lungs with the stethoscope that hung around his neck. He checked Sam’s pupils, his blood pressure and pulse then finally looked up at the two expectant and worried hunters.

“This kid sure took a bad beating,” Doc Turner said as he looked down at Sam with surprisingly kind eyes and smiled. “He’s a tough one though,” he added.

“So…what’s wrong with him?” Dean asked nervously.

Doc Turner looked up and pursed his lips before answering. “No broken ribs so no punctured lung, but you see this dark bruise here over his sternum?” he asked.

Dean and Bobby stepped up to the table and looked at the fist sized bruise spreading out directly in the center of Sam’s chest. Dean felt fresh anger rise in him at the men who had hurt Sam. He looked up at the doctor and waited for an explanation.

“Well, he was punched dead center and this has caused swelling in the soft tissue that connects his ribs to his sternum. That’s why he’s having a hard time taking deep breaths. The pain would feel like being hit by a sledgehammer every time the ribcage expands. I’m going to give him an IV with an anti-inflammatory drug to bring the swelling down. I’m also going to ice the area,” the doctor explained.

“What about his pain? You gonna give him something for that?” Bobby asked.

“Yep…I’ll give him a pretty strong pain reliever. It’ll knock him out for several hours, but it should help him get the rest he needs,” Doc Turner replied.

“So, what about the wheezing and the fever? That’s not from getting punched in the chest,” Dean inquired.

“No, it’s not. He seems to have a bit of congestion in his lungs that I’ll be treating with an antibiotic,” the doctor answered.

“So, you’re saying he has pneumonia?” Dean asked.

“Yep, but it’s not too bad yet. We should be able to get it cleared right up. I’ll add the first round of antibiotics to his IV,” Doc Turner replied.

“You’re going to keep him here then I take it,” Bobby said.

“Yeah…until mid-morning I’d imagine. Then I’ll assess him again and let you take him home if everything looks good.”

“I’m staying with him,” Dean announced, his tone letting the doctor know that he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer.

“That’s fine. We’ll get him moved into a more comfortable bed in the back room then I’ll get the IV started. You can lay down on the other bed if you want to get some rest yourself.”

“I don’t think you’ll be seeing Dean sleeping. Not when his baby brother is sick,” Bobby said knowingly.

“Whatever floats his boat. I on the other hand will be getting some more sleep once we get my patient settled,” the doctor said with a shrug.

Twenty minutes later found Sam comfortably tucked in and sleeping, the drugs needed to make him feel better pumping steadily into the vein in his arm. Dean was seated in a thinly cushioned chair beside his bed, his green eyes moving from Sam’s face to the monitor that the doctor had attached to Sam to read his oxygen levels and blood pressure. Bobby stood in the corner of the room talking quietly with Doc Turner. Soon, the two older men walked over to the bed where the doctor rechecked the IV and monitor before setting his attention on Dean.

“I’m gonna go up to get some sleep. If there seems to be any kind of problem with Sam, just pick up that phone there and it will ring in my room. Don’t pick it up unless absolutely necessary,” Doc Turner said before walking out of the room, cutting off any chance for Dean to comment.

Bobby chuckled as he moved to the opposite side of Sam’s bed and stood looking down at the young man. “Poor kid…he’s had it pretty rough lately,” he said softly.

Dean sighed as he looked up at his friend and surrogate father. “Yeah…he has,” he agreed. “Bobby, you don’t have to stay. Why don’t you go get some sleep. I’ll call you once the doc has checked Sam over again,” he added.

Bobby removed his cap and brushed his hand through his thinning hair. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stick around. I can lay down on the bed and sleep. Unless you’d rather I didn’t?” he answered.

“No, you can stay if you’d like. I just thought you would want to sleep in your own bed is all,” Dean answered.

“Well, I…I kinda don’t want to get too far away from the kid right now,” Bobby said softly as he moved his eyes down to stare at the floor.

“Bobby…what’s wrong?” Dean asked.

Bobby looked up and shrugged. “I feel responsible for the condition Sam’s in right now. If I had remembered getting that letter…or if I had opened it the day it arrived, he wouldn’t have been feeling so bad and he never would have been in that bar in the first place,” he answered.

“Bobby, you can’t blame yourself. You didn’t know…I didn’t know,” Dean said.

“I just feel bad about the way I’ve treated him…well, like it was him doing those things. It was him, but it wasn’t. Not really, but I acted as though it was. This Sam…our Sam would rather die than do what he did when he was soulless. I’m just so sorry that it took what he said in his letter to knock some sense into me.”

“I know what you’re saying, but it’s done with now. When Sam wakes up, you’ll tell him how you really feel…I’ll tell him how I really feel and we’ll all be one big happy family again. He’ll go back to being a pain in my ass…we’ll both go back to being a pain in your ass,” Dean said with a grin.

“Speak for yourself there, tonto…Sam has never been a pain in my ass,” Bobby shot back, eyes sparkling gleefully.

“Whatever, old man. Go get your old man nap in. You need a cup for your dentures?” Dean asked mischievously.

“This old man can kick your butt any day,” Bobby grumbled before giving Sam one last once over then moving to the bed.

“Dream on, gramps,” Dean chuckled under his breath.

Bobby climbed onto the bed nearest the door and pulled the light blanket up over him. He settled in, grumbling about disrespectful idjits and their ulcer inducing little brothers and their loud cars and a few other things that made even Dean blush. Dean listened with amusement until finally the grumbling stopped and the snoring began. He shook his head as he glanced affectionately over at the occupant of the other bed then turned his full attention to his peacefully sleeping brother. He smoothed the sheet and blanket over Sam’s chest then rested his elbows on the edge of the bed, his green eyes watching Sam’s face for any sign of pain. Sam looked more peaceful than he had in a long time and Dean hoped that finally, the worst was behind them. He moved one hand up to his chest and clutched the amulet in his fingers, relishing the feel of the cool metal in his hand. He leaned back in his chair and let out a relieved sigh. Sam was going to be okay, Bobby was back to his pleasant self and the amulet was back where it belonged. All was good, at least for the time being and Dean was going to take what he could get. All that remained was what promised to be a very big chick flick moment, but Dean would meet it with open arms because that’s what awesome big brothers do.

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Well? Should I keep my day job? Let me know what you think. Oh, there should only be one chapter left on this one. Thanks for reading (and commenting...hint, hint).

Cindy