Banner for Irrevocable Exigency by Stacy L.

 

PART 4

 

Settling in their hotel room for the evening Sam drew out his laptop and set it up. They needed to do a bit more research and find exact directions to the Downingtown tunnels, as well as try to figure out the identity of the spirit haunting them. They had one lead and that was a girl who had been driven from the town and hung herself, if the spirit was her then that would explain why the victims’ had broken necks. If it wasn’t her, then they had more interviewing and research to do which they weren’t done with anyway. Sam hoped she was the one but usually their hunts didn’t wrap up so quickly. He highly doubted this one would be any different.

 

He began with a search of the town archives, looking under history as well as various other topics hunting for anything that could help them with the identity of the woman who had killed herself at the tunnels. After spending several hours doing research they had still found nothing, no articles, no references to the apparent suicide, and no clue as to her true identity. However they did continue to stumble across freak accidental deaths that had occurred in the area throughout the last several years. Sam continued to read before saying, “Hey, Dean, look at this.”

 

Dean approached leaning over his brother’s shoulder to get a closer look at the computer screen reading what Sam was indicating with his pointer finger before questioning, “How many deaths have you found so far?”

 

“It’s hard to say, Dean…a lot. I think this may be a condensed version…”

 

Dean glanced at his brother briefly before continuing to read down the list glancing at causes of death before commenting, “The town didn’t notice?”

 

“Probably but would you want to question why so many people mysteriously wound up dead in your neck of the woods…? This is supposed to be an area with a low crime rate, little violence…”

 

“And lots of death…”

 

“They probably choose to ignore it.”

 

“Ignore it? How could anyone possibly ignore a death toll that high? Most of these deaths are unexplained.”

 

Sam shrugged before continuing, “Well Mrs. Anderson did say this town was very religious. I believe the word she used to describe it was ‘fanatical’.”

 

“Yeah, so…?”

 

“So? You have this very religious town that apparently contains not only a portal to the underworld but also an area of such evil that even the locals warn their children to steer clear of. Wouldn’t you want to deny the reality of all those strange deaths too? Wouldn’t you want to turn a blind eye to it?”

 

Dean nodded as he said, “Because to admit they’re happening…”

 

“Would undermine everything you had been taught, everything you believed,” Sam fell silent briefly before adding, “The death count alone suggests that something unnatural is going on here. No place has that high a record. All these deaths have occurred in and around the area of the tunnels. Something’s definitely going on here.”

 

“Don’t you think someone else would have noticed? I mean…”

 

“Downingtown is a small close knit community, Dean. It’s what we’d consider a backwater town…”

 

“Sam the turnpike’s that way,” Dean indicated the direction by quickly pointing his finger towards it before finishing, “It stretches through the entire state…”

 

“Yeah but most of the area is shrouded in trees, trees that block out everything except the occasional field and barn. The only thing you can really see along there are rest stops and random businesses.”

 

“There are signs, Sam…”

 

“Yeah but I highly doubt that Downingtown is a hot bed of activity. Most of the people on that road are probably traveling to Philadelphia or Pittsburg. They’re not going to stop at a small insignificant town along the way…”

 

“Small insignificant town…? The death toll here makes New York City almost pale in comparison, Sam.”

 

“Now you’re exaggerating.”

 

“Okay maybe a little but it’s still a significant number that should have been triggered by the Census Bureau or something.”

 

“Yeah, but…”

 

Dean shook his head dropping the argument altogether as he firmly stated, “We need to get to those tunnels, Sam. Do we have better directions yet?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“Good then we’ll head there tomorrow. Do some more investigating of our own, figure out what’s going on and get out of here.”

 

Sam nodded worry lines still creasing his forehead that prompted Dean to ask, “What are you thinking about, Sam?”

 

He glanced briefly at his brother before confessing, “The death count at those tunnels is fairly high, Dean.”

 

“Yeah so…?”

 

“What if it isn’t her?”

 

“Isn’t her as in…?”

 

Sam was apprehensive but still responded, “Not all those who died there lost their lives from falls Dean… What if she isn’t the spirit who’s haunting the place?”

 

“She’s all we got. She’s the most likely candidate, so I say we start there. It’s at least something.”

 

“Dean…”

 

“Look we have another interview tomorrow, maybe…” referencing the names he had listed he continued, “Mister McCallister can, I don’t know, shed some more light on this.”

 

Sam nodded then said, “We’ll need to find a library too, take a look at some death records, police reports…see what else we can dig up.”

 

Rolling his eyes Dean replied, “You mean we gotta do more research.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Shaking his head he protested, “Why can’t these things ever be easy?”

 

“Dean, we need to figure this thing out and quickly. We’re in a bit of a time crunch here.”

 

Moving away from the computer, he gathered his jacket in his hands checking his wallet for money before saying, “Yeah… I’m going to go grab a bite to eat. You want anything?”

 

Sam eyed him up, gnawing at the inside of his cheek, caught in a quandary. He wanted to let Dean get something to eat, but was the risk too great for him to be alone? Shaking his head he simply said, “You shouldn’t go alone, Dean.”

 

Irritation flashed in his brother’s eyes as he pointed haphazardly towards the window, raising an eyebrow as he informed, “Dude, the restaurant’s right across the street...”

 

Pinning Dean with an even gaze Sam gently reminded, “And they’re still out there…”

 

Dean sighed in frustration rolling his eyes as he responded, “Well, I’m hungry.”

 

“You’re always hungry, Dean,” as Dean’s vision seemed to cloud over Sam swallowed hard aware that he had just struck a nerve he hadn’t intended on striking so clearing his throat he covered with, “Look you stay here and see what else you can dig up. I’ll get the food.”

 

Frustration returned as Dean muttered, “Ah Sammy…,” causing Sam to relax slightly, aware that the momentary sore spot he had unintentionally poked at had been temporarily forgotten.

 

He added, “They’re after you, not me. You’ll be safer here.”

 

“It’s just as easy to find me here as there, Sam.”

 

Sam was up already grabbing his coat as he responded, “Yeah, well it’ll make me feel better.”

 

Dean held his brother’s worried gaze aware that he had already lost the battle before it even started, especially when Sam said it would make him feel better, so sighing and mumbling about overprotective younger brothers he tossed his own jacket on the nearest bed and lowered in front of Sam’s laptop.

 

Sam nodded feeling relieved his hand already on the door knob turning it when Dean said, “Be careful, Sam. They may want me, but they also know they can use you to get to me.”

 

Shifting his gaze briefly to the wall he nodded before exiting knowing just how right Dean’s words were. He wanted to protect Dean and to do that required that he keep himself out of their way too. He had to be just as cautious as Dean if not more so to ensure the demons didn’t gain an advantage over his brother. Still he was glad that Dean was staying behind, out of sight for the time being.

 

Once the door closed Dean waited for several moments before rising from the desk and approaching the window carefully drawing back the curtain keeping out of sight as much as possible. He watched his brother make his way across the parking lot only relaxing when Sam had successfully crossed the street and entered the restaurant. He may have told Sam he’d stay put but that didn’t mean he couldn’t keep an eye on him. After all he already knew just how much of a weakness Sam could be, for if something happened to his younger brother he’d not rest until he got him back. They were each strong, but together they were stronger and shared the same weakness any demon would love to exploit and that was each other.

 

Closing the curtain he returned to Sam’s laptop and continued his brother’s search where he’d left off feeling suddenly as if they might never be able to finish this particular hunt. Sam was right so many had died at those tunnels each with the potential to be the sole spirit haunting them. There were too many to choose from. The list had to be narrowed, so he decided to focus strictly on the suicides and murders that had occurred there. Violent deaths created vengeful spirits, accidental deaths not so much.

 

As he continued the search he frowned finding no mention of a female suicide victim who had hung herself, and subconsciously shuddering as he read about the woman in the suitcase, a grisly murder case that still remained officially unsolved. She had quite the potential to be a vengeful spirit roaming through the years, a restless spirit whose identity had never been found, if she were their ghost he feared there might be no way to stop her.

 

Softly cursing he ran a hand quickly down over his face leaning back in the chair he was sitting in before stretching and glancing at his watch. Sam had only been gone a few minutes. He had seen him enter the restaurant. He was fine, yet Dean still worried knowing what could happen, again wondering why the demons hadn’t yet made a move. They knew he and his brother were there, yet they were waiting, but what were they waiting for? Other than Sam’s sense that they were being watched earlier in the day they had seen and heard nothing. Sure they had been given warnings from both Castiel and Ruby, but nothing had happened yet. What were they waiting for?

 

Shrugging he blamed it on the fact that they had only just arrived in Downingtown and left it at that knowing he should be thankful they hadn’t made any kind of move yet. It was buying Sam and him time to solve this thing and move on, but if it couldn’t be solved…

 

Shaking his head he refused to accept defeat knowing they would solve this thing and move on. He only hoped they could solve it quickly because time was running out and when it did the demons would make their move attempting to take him back to…

 

He shuddered squeezing his eyes shut gasping as he could hear his own screams echoing in his mind, feel the sudden strain exerted on already overtaxed muscles as each of his limbs were stretched apart, cables cutting into him holding him suspended over a fiery pit, the heat already scorching his skin as he cried out for Sam, for anybody, only to find that he was completely and utterly alone…

 

Jolting out of the chair he cursed before making his way rapidly to the bathroom quickly finding himself dry heaving over the toilet shaking violently before relaxing, calming enough to approach the sink and splash cold water on his face. As he looked up into the mirror there he noticed how blanched his face was, could see the dark circles under each of his eyes and how tight his skin was drawn across his face, all subtle indicators that he was anything but okay. He was having difficulty sleeping, difficulty focusing and difficulty eating as well. Sam had no doubt noticed the lack of sleep but hadn’t noticed how much weight he’d lost. He wore baggier clothes to conceal that from him. He was underweight, not severely so, but more than he should be. Shaking his head he stepped away from the mirror determined not to look in it again. Since his return he had avoided mirrors as much as he was able not wanting to see the evidence across his body and face that attested to the fact that he wasn’t sleeping or eating well at all.

 

Shaking his head, attempting to clear his mind of the still nagging whispers in the back of it, he approached the table lowering before the laptop one more time. Glancing again at the screen his eyes scanned the picture of the Jane Doe he had been reading about before his nightmares had returned. He struggled hard to silence the subtle whispers still teasing his brain and the brief flashes of memory still remaining. Forcing his eyes closed again he silently willed the memories and voices to quiet and stop. As the last remnants of both began to fade he began to relax scanning the web page repeatedly as he waited it out. As he glanced at the page for about the tenth time scanning it yet again he realized he hadn’t comprehended any of it, so he forced his attention back on the task at hand reading about the vicious murder of Jane Doe.

 

As he settled further he found himself jumping when the hotel door opened. Glancing up he felt embarrassed that he hadn’t even heard Sam at the door before it opened. He was slipping.

 

Sam smiled as he saw his brother still busy on his computer relieved to see that Dean was still there and still safe. Turning he closed the door locking it before saying, “Dinner’s ready.”

 

Dean glanced up briefly, but didn’t make any attempt to get some food. Sam noticed immediately again worrying about his brother. He approached the table sitting the food in front of Dean hoping the smell would coax him to eat. Instead Dean continued to look at the computer screen. Opting to avoid an argument Sam casually asked, “So find anything?” while he drew the containers of food out. Dean didn’t look up as he said, “Reading about a murder case.”

 

“Ah the Jane Doe…”

 

As he spoke he casually opened one of the containers of food and slowly slid it beside Dean hoping that he’d just subconsciously reach for the food and smiling when Dean’s fingers seized a French fry. He quietly urged his brother to eat hoping he’d do so without thinking too much about it. As Dean lifted the fry to his lips Sam silently urged him to eat it already tensing when Dean paused to say, “Yeah. The murder was never solved, Sammy.”

 

I know that already, Dean, eat the damned food!

 

“Yeah it was a pretty gruesome murder…”

 

He trailed off cheering victoriously in his mind as Dean finally ate the fry before reaching for a second one.

 

Yes, that’s it Dean, eat. Come on. Eat for me.

 

Relief filled him as Dean ate the second fry then grabbed for another. Keep him distracted, he had to keep Dean distracted or he wouldn’t eat. He had noticed almost immediately how Dean avoided eating since his return. He ate very little and no doubt believed his brother was completely clueless about it. When he did eat Sam would wake to hear him retching in the bathroom unsure as to whether he was deliberately making himself sick or if something else was triggering it. After that he tried to make Dean eat, but more often than not his brother wouldn’t. He’d eat a few bites before letting the rest sit. He used distraction to get Dean to eat now. If he could slip the food beside him or within reaching distance and get his brother distracted Dean would usually begin to eat without thinking about it, but the moment he was no longer distracted he’d leave it sit and not touch it anymore. It was frustrating and sad to see. On occasion Dean would get hungry enough to go out and actually eat but that didn’t happen much…at least not anymore. His eating habits were yet another thing that had changed drastically since his return. He didn’t like it and had no idea what to do about it.

 

As Dean stopped Sam realized he had gotten distracted and quickly said, “Her murder is one of several unsolved cases in the area. There were others but only hers was near those tunnels.”

 

His face growing pensive Dean added, “It says here her legs were ripped…”

 

“From her pelvis, yeah saw that too…”

 

Swallowing dryly he stated, “People are crazy, Sam.”

 

As Dean ate another French fry Sam relaxed aware that Dean hadn’t yet realized his brother’s attempt to get him to eat. Nodding in satisfaction he opened his own container and began to eat pausing as he said, “That murder happened in July 1995. They have a base description of her but no idea of who she was. There was a similar murder that occurred at the same time in Las Vegas I believe. Both murders were never solved.”

 

Smiling spastically Dean glanced up for the first time from the monitor to look at Sam his voice straining as he managed, “Well if I were hacked into pieces and stuffed into a suitcase I think I’d want to come back to haunt the place too.”

 

Sam flinched upon hearing the word “hacked” remembering all too clearly watching his brother being torn to shreds before him so many months ago. He placed his sandwich back in the container suddenly having lost his appetite. It took sheer willpower to pick the sandwich up again before saying, “Yeah. She was found along the Brandywine the suitcase wrapped in a green trash bag, dropped along the side of the road…”

 

Dean ate another French fry and Sam found his appetite again, fearing if he stopped eating Dean would notice and become so concerned that he’d stop eating too. He didn’t want Dean to stop. Dean needed to eat and to eat more than a few French fries.

 

Dean shook his head saying, “It doesn’t fit.”

 

“What?”

 

“If her spirit’s the one doing the haunting it doesn’t fit.”

 

“So we’re back to the girl again…”

 

“I did a cross check on suicides at the tunnels, Sam…”

 

“And…?”

 

“And there’s no mention of a girl who killed herself by hanging.”

 

“Well they drove her out of town right?”

 

“Yeah…”

 

“So maybe… Chester County, do a search on the county for murders and suicides to see if anything else comes up, maybe that tunnel serves as a county line or something.”

 

“Yeah maybe…” as Dean’s voice trailed off Sam watched him eat another French fry beginning to relax further as he ate. The light from the computer screen painted an eerie blue hue across his brother’s facial features, creating shadow and light where none had been before. As he continued to watch Dean he felt his throat closing spastically upon noticing the deep dark circles under his brother’s eyes, the tautness of pale skin over bone, the exhaustion and weariness that seemed to now be such an integral part of his brother. Dean wasn’t looking well at all. In fact he looked ill instead of healthy and strong as he should. He tensed feeling his heart growing heavy in his chest as he noticed how much Dean had lost while away. Four months, four months was a long time to some people and to one who had suffered and been repeatedly tortured only God knows how four months had to be damned near a lifetime.

 

“Sammy? Sam, what’s wrong?”

 

Hearing the tension now lining his brother’s voice Sam immediately looked up apologizing for becoming distracted. Dean was gazing at him in worry as he asked again, “What’s going on with you, Sam?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing, Dean.”

 

“Wha…what do you mean?”

 

Noticing Dean unconsciously push the container of food away he cursed himself for being so stupid. Damn it, Dean had stopped eating again! He was killing himself here! Damn it, he could kick himself for his stupidity! He searched frantically in his mind for a way to distract Dean again before responding, “It’s this case Dean, the murder of that girl. I mean she was…hacked to pieces and stuffed into a suitcase, left by the side of the road to rot. How horrible is that?”

 

Dean swallowed hard relaxing only a hair as he tried to ignore the sudden sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. He looked at Sam not sure what to say, so he returned his focus to the computer screen unaware of the subtle shifting of his food container towards him as Sam carefully moved it back into place.

 

Sam watched his brother eating his own food as he studied Dean’s pale drawn face. He was quiet again, withdrawn. Something was bothering him, but Sam hadn’t quite figured out what. He decided to give Dean some time hoping that perhaps he would say something, but when he didn’t Sam settled for quietly watching him again silently urging him to eat.

 

After several moments that seemed more like hours Dean’s hand dipped into the food container again hovering there for several heartbreakingly long moments before grasping hold of another French fry. As Dean drew his hand to his mouth and ate it Sam nearly cheered aloud at the accomplishment. Dean was eating, albeit he was eating only a little but maybe, just maybe he’d reach for the sandwich nestled in next to the French fries. As Dean continued to study the computer he soon drew the sandwich to his mouth and for a moment Sam had thought he never saw anything more beautiful. Finally Dean was eating something, finally.

 

It wasn’t long before Dean stopped placing the half eaten sandwich in the container as he placed a hand over his stomach. Shit, stomach ache no doubt from lack of food entering it. Shit! He prayed Dean wouldn’t throw up the little bit of food he had managed to take in nearly biting his lip clean through as he waited for the inevitable mad dash for the bathroom. When it didn’t come he settled further in his seat frowning when the hand that had been on his stomach now rubbed overly tired eyes.

 

Dean was tired, but he didn’t want to sleep, couldn’t sleep. If he dared the dreams, the nightmares would come back. The only thing he could do was sit here and study the computer screen hoping that once Sam finished eating he’d head off to bed. Once Sam was asleep it was always easier to stay up and fight against rest. He had to bide his time, wait just a little while longer and then Sam would relax and drift off. Once Sam drifted off then he could focus on staying awake. He stared hard at the computer screen noticing that the screen seemed to be fading before him as if someone had just turned off the monitor. What the…? Forcing his eyes open he nearly jumped as he became aware that he had almost fallen asleep. No, he couldn’t fall asleep for if he did the nightmares would return again and he couldn’t handle them, not tonight. Shaking his head he carefully stood only vaguely aware of the rather loud bang that resounded behind him, confused he turned to see what the source of the noise was finding he was wavering on his feet. He instantly reached out for the table hoping it would stop his decent towards the floor relieved when it did. When he opened his eyes to focus again he became aware that the loud bang had been caused by the chair falling backwards. Staring at it dumbfounded he nearly jumped out of his skin when a warm tender hand lowered to his shoulder. As he became aware of just where that hand was resting he jerked back releasing a harsh desperate cry of ‘no’ as the images he had fought so long and hard to forget earlier suddenly began an instant replay through his mind. NO!

 

Swallowing hard Sam became instantly afraid when Dean stood up only to nearly topple to the floor. His exhaustion and forced starvation coming to a head weakening him to the point that he nearly crumpled. He felt only minor relief when Dean planted his hand firmly on the table thus steadying his uneasy swaying. Without thought he rose to his feet and ran to his brother’s side not thinking as he placed his hand on the scarred arm until Dean released a desperate no and squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Damn it! He had placed his hand on that scar, the one that had been left behind by either Castiel or one of the demons who had tormented his brother when he was imprisoned. What the hell had he been thinking? Instantly he was speaking Dean’s name, repeating it over and over like a lament praying, pleading with his brother hoping he could break free from the flashback that had just seized him. As Dean lifted his hand from the table he instantly began to crumple but Sam had a firm grip on him, firm enough to prevent him striking the floor. He was a bit fearful as Dean’s full weight came down upon him and his brother was more manageable than he should be…the weight loss no doubt having stripped some much needed pounds from his body.

 

Once settled on the floor he held Dean against him not sure of what to say or do as his brother continued to softly repeat the word ‘no’ over and over again. At a loss for what to say he simply began to stroke Dean’s hair whispering words of encouragement to him hoping that in some way he would be able to break through to his brother. He could feel the shivers that wracked Dean’s too thin frame as he held him in his arms and prayed, not for the first time, for any kind of help to ease his brother’s suffering. As if in answer to his prayer his brother’s mutterings began to fall blessedly silent, the shivers began to subside and his brother’s body began to relax against him as he finally settled in his arms. Sam had no idea what had created the change but was grateful only relaxing further when he recognized the deep even breathing coming from his brother that indicated he was now asleep. Finally Dean was getting some much needed rest, but how long would sleep continue to loll him before the nightmares began again?

 

Sam sat on the floor holding his now peacefully slumbering brother in his arms. He wanted to move him, to get him into a bed but was almost too afraid to do so. It would require he wake Dean, and he feared once awaken Dean would again resist the allure of sleep. He couldn’t keep that up much longer and with demons closing in on them, their ultimate goal being to capture and destroy his brother, Dean would need all the strength he could muster because if things went bad…

 

Shaking his head he tried not to think about it settling on just being able to hold his brother close. He quickly lost track of the time tensing when his brother softly groaned, an indicator that he was returning to wakefulness. He tensed waiting on edge listening to Dean’s breathing and unable to hold back a soft smile as Dean’s voice filled the room with a quiet, “Okay, awkward...,” as he became aware of his precarious predicament.

 

Slowly sitting up he drew away from his brother questions reflecting in his eyes that had Sam automatically answering, “You collapsed, Dean.”

 

Puzzled eyes focused intently on his face as his brother was trying to remember the events that led to this particular moment answering with a simple question, “What time is it?”

 

“You’ve been asleep about two hours…”

 

Surprise entered next as he voiced, “Dude, you’ve been holding me in your arms for two hours?”

 

“I didn’t want to wake you. You haven’t been sleeping well.”

 

He was expecting an immediate denial so common from his older brother who hated to allow weakness to show, ANY weakness. What he got instead was a heavy sigh and a hand rubbing at tired eyes as Dean replied with, “So you’ve noticed…”

 

“Yeah kind of hard not to, especially when we’re always together… Do you want to tell me about it?”

 

“No but I would like to get off this floor.”

 

“No complaints here.”

 

Sam slowly stood stretching, his body cracking in several places as he did so. He halted when Dean’s voice floated to him from below as he said, “Little help here Sam…”

 

Immediately he was lowering again to help Dean stand. Once on his feet he became aware of the small tremors that still seemed to be wracking his brother’s thin frame. He quickly guided him to a bed surprised when Dean muttered, “Gotta stop doing this…”

 

“Doing what?”

 

Anguished eyes centered on him as Dean responded, “All this avoidance crap…”

 

“Avoidance crap, Dean…?”

 

Settling an intense gaze on Sam filled with certainty Dean quieted his voice saying, “Come on, Sam. I know you’ve noticed.”

 

Acting innocent, astonished that his brother was bringing it up at all he questioned, “Noticed what, Dean…?”

 

Again that unnerving knowing look settled on him as Dean responded with, “That I haven’t been sleeping…”

 

“Never noticed…”

 

“You’re such a liar, Sam.”

 

Lowering his gaze before lifting it again he confessed, “Well oh…okay maybe I noticed a little.”

 

“Truth is, Sam, it scares me, you know.”

 

“What?”

 

Silence fell between them the question only hovering before Dean admitted, “Remembering, Sam, the remembering, it scares me…a lot. When I close my eyes… It’s like I’m back there again, you know, and I can’t break free. I can’t forget. Why can’t I forget that, Sam?”

 

Licking his lips nervously he answered, “Maybe you’re not supposed to, Dean, maybe remembering that, your time there, maybe it… I don’t know makes you stronger, gives you more reason to fight? I don’t know, maybe to fight this war you need to remember.”

 

Dean released a harsh chuckle as he simply stated, “Some warrior I am. I can’t even sleep. I’m exhausted, Sam. I can’t close my eyes I just…can’t so I find things to distract me, keep me busy, you know. How can I be expected to do all these things when I can’t even sleep? I’m run down, Sam, tired…”

 

“Don’t, don’t talk like that, please Dean, just don’t.”

 

“No, I’m not tired like before Sam, this is more of a mental thing. I need sleep or I’ll be useless in any kind of fight. I know this and yet…”

 

“You still can’t sleep.”

 

“Something like that…yeah.”

 

“You slept for two hours tonight Dean, that at least is something.”

 

“It’s not enough, Sam, it’s not enough.”

 

Sam watched his brother noticing that Dean was beginning to waiver again. Swallowing hard he softly encouraged, “Here why don’t you lay down, Dean.”

 

Haunted eyes found him as Dean opened his mouth to speak then closed it again before nodding wearily. Sam watched him lean forward attempting to remove his shoes noticing that Dean was struggling a bit so he quickly jumped in saying, “Here let me do that for you.”

 

As Sam lowered before Dean beginning to remove his shoes he felt his brother’s still slightly trembling hand settle on his shoulder certain that Dean was now watching his every move, and probably so afraid of falling forward that he needed to lean on him for support. As he drew both shoes off his brother’s feet he glanced up seeing a look of gratefulness in Dean’s eyes. Smiling affectionately he stood and again gently urged, “Here, Dean, lay down for me.”

 

“You’re not supposed to be taking care of me, Sammy. I’m supposed to be taking care of you.”

 

“And you are, you will, but right now you need this so relax and climb under the covers will ya.”

 

“Nag…”

 

Sam’s smile broadened as he answered, “Jerk…”

 

Dean smiled briefly before crawling under the covers like directed then settled in the bed. Once he was situated Sam drew the covers up over him and tucked them around him as he suggested, “Why don’t you try to rest, Dean. Please?”

 

The haunted look returned prompting Sam to gentle his voice further as he assured, “I’ll be here to wake you if…”

 

Dean nodded his eyes glassy as he blinked wearily and continued to peer at his younger brother. He wanted to resist the temptation to shut his eyes but soon found his eyelids drooping. He kept his gaze locked on Sam through it all smiling softly and settling further as Sam began to brush a hand tenderly through his hair. He knew Sam was now coaxing him to sleep despite his argument to remain awake and was aware that Sam’s tactics were working. He was settling further, drifting deeper into rest and within moments was fully asleep.

 

Sam smiled gently as he continued to stroke his brother’s hair catching the definite difference in his breathing that told him Dean was now asleep. He felt relief filling him determined to be there the moment he saw Dean struggling against the dreams that were pure nightmares.

 

Once he was certain Dean was resting peacefully he told him he’d be right back hearing a soft moan of protest at the loss of the tender stroking that Dean emitted in response. Quickly he grabbed the toppled chair and sat it beside Dean’s bed not wanting to wake him by sitting on the bed. Once the chair was in place he lowered into it and again began to run his fingers loosely through Dean’s hair noticing how he seemed to relax and settle further upon the re-application of the simple touch. As he watched his brother he drew comfort in his presence having missed him so very much when he had been away. He now found he needed to see Dean, needed to watch him to assure himself that his brother was still with him afraid that at any moment he might be taken away again. He didn’t think he could survive Dean’s absence another time, for he needed Dean as much as Dean needed him. They needed each other, all they had in the world was each other and he was determined to protect what they had at all costs. He wouldn’t lose Dean again. He couldn’t lose Dean again.

 

As he continued to watch his brother he felt the faintest of breezes stirring his hair ever so slightly and closed his eyes tensing when a familiar voice questioned, “How is he?”

 

Sam turned then gaping at the angel visiting before asking, “What do you want?”

 

Castiel spoke his eyes never drifting from the now sleeping form of Dean as he questioned again, “How is he?”

 

Sam answered, “Resting…finally.”

 

“This is good, for he has many burdens, and there is much left to do.”

 

“Yeah about that just what does he have to do? What do you want from him?”

 

“He will be the one who saves us.”

 

Sam stared openly at the angel, wondering about him and why he seemed so interested in Dean. Castiel was an enigma appearing randomly to visit his brother, telling him things, expecting things from him and seemingly having great faith in him. Castiel had no doubts when it came to Dean accomplishing this great mission given him. He also seemed to care a bit more than one would expect an angel to care for regular mortals…

 

“I am a guardian angel, Samuel. My duty is and has always been to watch over those on earth, to protect them and guide them on their paths.”

 

“I didn’t say…”

 

“You didn’t have to. You were thinking it and that is all I need.”

 

“What?”

 

“To listen, all I need to do is listen.”

 

“You listen but you won’t help.”

 

“I can only help so much, Samuel.”

 

“But he can’t do this alone…”

 

“He is not alone, for he has you.”

 

“Me? But…”

 

“You have always been strong, Samuel, both of you. Together you are even stronger. He needs you as you need him. Right now he needs you more than ever before.”

 

“But…”

 

“You know what I speak of is the truth, Samuel.”

 

Nodding he turned back to gaze at his brother who seemed to have settled and relaxed much more upon the arrival of Castiel. Cocking his head to the side in surprise at that observance he turned back to Castiel saying, “What…,” and trailing off as he became aware that the angel was gone. As quickly as he had arrived he had vanished, which was a bit unnerving. How did Dean ever get used to that? Shaking his head in wonder he turned back to focus on his brother smiling affectionately as he continued to watch him sleep before he was following in suit.

 

 

Next:

 

PART 5

 

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