Chapter Text
Dean hated chlamydia, oatmeal raisin cookies, demons, djinns, and dragons. And Dean really freaking hated magic contracts that stole his brother literally right out from under his hand.
“That’s me off then,” Charlie said. He downed the rest of the nasty ass room temperature beer that the old man gave them all and nodded before taking off out the door.
“Us too,” Remus said, grabbing Sirius’s shoulder tightly. Sirius went pale as soon as Harry disappeared, but at least he could go watch the damn kid.
Stupid magic school that wouldn’t even let Dean watch over his brother.
“Fuck!”
Dean kicked the barstool and sent the chair flying. The old man behind the bar gave him a filthy look for it, like Dean cared. It was bullshit having to sit there and wonder if his fucking brother was okay or not.
“He’s going to be okay,” Sam said, like maybe if he said it enough times it would be true. “Let’s just sit. Charlie said he’ll send a message when anything happens.”
“I don’t want to sit,” Dean snapped. Dean couldn’t sit when he was restless, useless. Dean needed to be moving, trick his body into thinking he was doing something useful.
Sam sighed and took the seat by Tonks. Tonks watched as Dean began pacing and then looked toward the bartender.
“A whiskey on the rocks for each of us,” she said. “Better make them doubles, Abe. I’d hate for any more chairs to get broken.”
Dean snatched the drink that was floated to him from the air and downed it. He had to force himself to not throw the cup; being a dick wasn’t going to do shit for Harry.
Christ. The kid was actually going to be locked in some arena with a dragon. Sam had so much faith in Albus’s plan for Harry - pull a sword from a hat, send nifflers for the egg. Dean wasn’t so easily sold.
Using a sword as a distraction was badass, a tank would be safer. Harry had an army, he needed a tank. If Harry could change rocks into hubcap scratching critters, why not a tank? Then he could hide out, safe and sound.
Dean opened his mouth to say that to Sam, about the tank, and saw that Sam had his head bent towards Tonks, half a smile on his face. Sam had it bad for that chick… which was cool and totally made sense.
Tonks was pretty kick ass, for a cop. She was hot, had the whole ‘colored hair means crazy in bed’ thing going on, and she was funny too. Plus, Dean didn’t know many chicks that could keep up with his liquor intake. Not only did she keep up shot for shot when Dean had been there before, but she had real stubborn opinions on whiskey.
It was hard not to like a chick like that. So Dean was glad that Sam got his head out of his ass about it. Sam was basically a chick, Tonks was basically a dude; it just made sense.
“If you guys need a room…” Dean trailed off and smirked when Sam and Tonks suddenly seemed to notice he was still there. Sam gave Dean a death glare, Tonks laughed.
“Last time I got a room it didn’t—”
It happened in an instant.
Dean had been watching his brother, teasing Sam to ease his worries about Harry, and then - then…
Sam fucking disappeared.
Dean shouted his name as his stomach dropped out and Tonks fell off her chair, since she’d been using Sam as an armrest. Dean grabbed wildly in the air then whipped his head around when he got a sudden whiff of something rotten, like eggs.
Chlamydia was starting to not even be a concern in Dean’s life. Demons though? Demons were fucking him up left and right.
“SAM!” Dean yelled Sam’s name even though every instinct in him said that Sam wasn’t there. He wasn’t hidden, he wasn’t invisible, he was gone.
Harry was gone and Sam was gone and Dean was frozen for a second.
Two brothers, one Dean. Sulfur meant demons, Sam disappearing in thin air meant a bad one… probably the yellow-eyed son of a bitch that had been obsessed with Dean’s family since Sam was in diapers.
Dean’s fingers were stiff, clumsy, when he went for his phone. There were only three contacts in it, Dean didn’t have time to add all their burners to the new phone Sam was geeking out over giving everyone.
There was Big, Little, and Old. Sam, Harry, Bobby.
Dean pressed the button for Sam and the fucking phone suddenly shot up twenty degrees and burned the shit out of his hand. Dean held on then threw it at the floor when the screen frittzed out on him.
Magic and electronics, Dean fucking forgot.
“Did Sam also enter in a contact with an ancient relic?” Tonks asked. She stood by Dean and had her wand out, a hard look in her eyes. A cop look, actually.
It wasn’t the first time Dean had to pair up with a cop to find his brother.
“Fuck no he didn’t,” Dean said. “Can you find him?”
“Do you have a map and a bit of hair or something?”
Dean didn’t, but he knew where he could find those things at. There wasn’t a real debate; Dean needed to find his brother. But… Dean’s other brother needed him too.
Fuck.
Tonks must have read Dean’s hesitance because she flicked her wand and had some silver little lizard-thing appearing.
“Tell Harry to stay at the school after the task,” Tonks said, calmly enough. “And tell me when he finishes.” Tonks waved her wand and the lizard ran off, floating through the walls like a message carrying ghost.
“Charle’s good, he’ll keep us informed.” Tonks offered Dean her hand and a lopsided smile. “If you give me your address, we can go there and steal a hair from a brush or something.”
Dean swore like a sailor before he rattled off their address and took Tonks’s hand. It was bullshit - Dean couldn’t be in both places though and at least he knew where Harry was.
If anything happened to the kid while Dean was hunting down Sam and whatever demonic son of a bitch that had the juice to yank him right out of thin air…
Dean was going to end up killing something, someone, he just knew it.
Tonks dropped them right in front of the trailer and Dean barely let his boots touch grass before he booked it inside to grab Sam’s brush. The door was left open behind him and Dean didn’t care if Tonks followed him or not - some witches weren’t evil bastards, whatever, old news.
There was only one brush in the bathroom that Sam and Harry shared, which meant Dean had to squint to find the brown hair hidden in the black…
And why the fuck were they sharing a brush? Did Sam not remember when Dean caught lice in like third grade and gave it to Sam? Sam had bawled…
“I don’t want to cut my hair!” Sammy cried. Sam had just watched Dean get his head shaved and he had immediately ran to the closet in the shitty cabin they were holed up in so Dad couldn’t shave his head too.
Dean was crouched down so he could crawl in the closet to try and get Sam to give being a baby.
“It’s just hair, Sam,” Dean said, snapping at Sam in impatience. Did Sam think Dean liked having a buzzed and lumpy head? No. People were gonna laugh at him until it grew back.
“Quit being a baby and get out there before you make Dad mad,” Dean warned his brother. Dad was already in a bad mood cause of a freaking demon killing one of his buddies, Dean didn’t need Sam making it even worse.
Dean didn’t even risk asking his Dad to shave his head. Dean had his note from the school nurse, read that he had to be lice free before he returned to school, and decided to shave his own head. It wasn’t… It wasn’t like it was Dean’s fault that he got it… but Dad didn’t care much for ‘technicalities’ so Dean wasn’t going to make a fuss of it.
Dad saw him trying to clip his hair though and took over without much fussing. He asked if it was lice and Dean said ‘yes, sir’. Dad finished cutting Dean’s hair and told him to go get Sammy and Dean said ‘yes, sir’.
And Sam was gonna get Dean in trouble if he didn’t move with a purpose.
Sam had big fat tears in my his eyes and Dean wasn’t going to be puppy-eyed into getting a wollering over some nasty bugs.
“I like my hair,” Sam said pitifully. “I don’t wanna bald head. I don’t even have any bugs, swear.”
Dean sighed. Sam had scratched his head four times since Dean crawled in the closet with him. They were sharing the same junky bed - if Dean had lice, Sam had lice.
Course it was probably Dean’s fault… he had been wearing Cory’s Batman hat at recess.
“Sammy, please,” Dean whispered, knowing it was taking too long and Dad was gonna get real mad. “Dad told me to come get you. I’m gonna be in trouble if you don’t get out there and let him cut your hair. It’ll grow back, I swear.”
When Sam’s only response was to cry again, Dean ground a fist against his own eyes angrily. Sam was being a brat and Dean was the one who was going to get in trouble for it - like always.
Dean crawled out of the closet so he could go find Dad… it didn’t make him feel good when he saw Dad sitting on the couch, drinking.
Maybe it was best he didn’t shave Sam’s head anyway…
“Where’s Sam?” Dad asked, watching Dean closely.
Dean didn’t bother lying; he never did. Dad always knew.
“Sam doesn’t want his hair cut,” Dean said. Dean was small, not scared, so he tried to look tall and sound confident. “Is there any other way to get rid of the bugs?”
Dad frowned and rolled his eyes, like he knew already that Sam was going to be a pain about it.
“They’ve got special shampoos, but I’m not going and spending twenty bucks on it because Sam doesn’t want a haircut,” Dad said. He took another swig from his glass while Dean worked up his courage.
“If I go get it, can we try that?” Dean asked carefully; he wasn’t arguing, he was just asking.
“You’ve got extra cash laying around?” Dad asked real sarcastically.
“I can get it,” Dean said. He wasn’t lying, but he wasn’t saying ‘Hey, Dad I can probably steal it’.
Dad stared at Dean for a few seconds before he snorted and Dean relaxed.
“I might have some cash in my jacket,” Dad said, turning his attention back to his drink. “CVS is downtown, don’t get lost.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean said. “Thank you.”
Dean went to fetch Sammy, just knowing it would be better if he took him with him. Sammy was a pain on long walks, but Dean didn’t want him making Dad mad while he was gone.
Dad didn’t have enough cash to cover the shampoo, so Dean wound up pocketing it and spending six bucks on a couple of drinks and candy bars. It was good enough to keep Sam cheerful on the walk back, even though Dean felt bad about his legs getting sore.
Dean spent a long time that night using the stinky soap on Sam’s hair and then using a tiny comb to get all the bugs out. He had to do it three nights in a row, but Sam was pretty good about sitting still and not crying when Dean pulled his hair.
When Sam was lice free, everyone was happy. Dad didn’t have to worry about the bugs, Sam didn’t have shave his head. Dean was kinda sore about the whole thing, but it was his fault for bringing the bugs in the house in the first place.
If Sam and Harry caught lice, Dean would kick them both to the garage until they were de-liced or whatever. It might be easier to just make Sam buy his own hairbrush, since they were both rocking boy-band hairdo’s again…
Dean had to find Sam first though, so he found a hair that was definitely Sam’s and took it to Tonks for her to track Sam with.
“This work?” Dean asked, holding it up for her. She was glancing around their place with a curious expression, like she’d never seen a trailer before.
Maybe she didn’t; fuck if Dean knew.
“Yup!” Tonks waved her wand and made a small glass bottle appear from no where. She took the hair and placed it in the bottle, grinning once it was corked shut. “I don’t suppose you know where the closest potions shop is, do you?”
Dean did, actually, because even if he wasn’t as smart as Sam, even he could put together obvious signs. Where there had been a magical hospital, there had to be other magical shit.
“Pierre,” Dean told her. “And you’re a lot faster than driving would be, so let’s go, sweetheart.”
The sooner Dean found one brother, the sooner he would get back to the other.
Cause everything was always that easy for Dean when demons and magic were working against him.
Tonks was pretty damn quick though, Dean would give her that. She didn’t fuck around, just took them to the hospital in Pierre to ask about a potions store. They were directed downtown, to the Fighting Stallions Memorial.
Through there they had to do some searching, freaking magical cities were too damn big. Dean was half-frantic, but focused. It worked like that sometimes, Dean just focused on what he had to do and he blocked out all the other crap.
When Sam and Harry went missing before, Dean had been laser-focused on finding them. When Harry had been in the hospital, Dean focused on getting back to him.
There could have been an armed robbery in the magical back in Pierre and Dean wouldn’t notice. If it didn’t involve Sam and the demon or Harry and the dragon then Dean didn’t care.
Tonks took over for Dean, guiding him by the arm as they made their way to the store she needed. Dean didn’t know much about what they needed, so he kept his mouth shut while Tonks grabbed supplies and only intervened when she tried to pay for them.
“I got this,” Dean said, handing over one of the credit cards he wouldn’t give up.
Sam said they didn’t need them, he gave Dean a card for his fancy new bank account. Dean thought that was dumb as hell and refused to give up free money.
Plus Sam earned his money, even if Dean did still help on hunts. Dean… fuck… did Dean tell Sam how proud of him he was? Dean gave him so much shit for being a fed, but Sam was the first hunter to earn a real paycheck for it.
Dean shook his head at himself, refusing to go down that train of thought. Sam was missing, he wasn’t dead; Dean could - he would - tell Sam how proud he was later.
They’d get Sam, they’d get Harry. Dean would drink away the cold fear that had him chilled from the inside out and he’d tell both his little brothers that he was proud of them.
It shouldn’t need said, but Dean would say it anyway.
Tonks didn’t waste any time. The second she had her supplies, she pulled Dean in some lame ass little cafe to dump the shit on a table.
“Hey! Customers only!” the dude behind the counter snapped at her.
“You do your thing,” Dean told Tonks, the itch in his stomach increasing in intensity. The longer it took before hearing that Harry was safe - that Sam wasn’t dead - the worse Dean felt.
Dean glared fiercely at the pimple-faced douche behind the counter as he ordered the cheapest fucking thing on the menu.
“Happy now?” Dean asked harshly, snatching the bottle of water off the counter. The dude mumbled some shit and Dean really thought about turning around and knocking his ass out. It would feel pretty damn good – but Dean had to find Sam first.
Find Sam. Hear about Harry.
Then probably beat that dude’s ass.
“Here we go,” Tonks told Dean when he rejoined her at the table she stood over. Tonks pulled her wand out and held it over a blank piece of thick and yellowed paper. There was some fluids dumped on it, probably whatever ‘potion’ she needed.
“Insequi Luminis Sam Winchester,” Tonks said confidently before she tapped the paper right in the center.
Dean looked from the paper to Tonks, back to the paper. Nothing happened.
“Uh..?” Dean shook his head some. “So where is he?”
Tonks frowned and Dean felt his stomach swoop sickeningly, like maybe he was the one who shouldn’t have ate breakfast.
Come on, there – there was no way that everything possible was going to go wrong for Dean that day.
“Insequi Luminis Sam Winchester,” Tonks repeated, tapping the paper harder than before.
Nothing.
“God DAMNIT!” Dean threw the bottle of water at the wall and yelled in his hands at the fucking nothing. Dean might just have a GED, but he wasn’t an idiot.
Tonks didn’t repeat herself because she needed to, she did it because it didn’t work the first time and it didn’t work the second time and Dean was wasting time.
“He’s somewhere that can’t be tracked,” Tonks told Dean, meaningless bullshit that he didn’t hear.
Dean had his hands in his hair, pulling at it, while he spun and tried to think.
Sam was gone. Sam was gone.
All Dean could think about was that Sam was gone. Sam was Dean’s responsibility and he was gone and Harry was fighting a fucking dragon.
How was everything so screwed up?
How was Dean screwing everything up?
Tonks put her hand on Dean’s shoulder and he was so stressed that he spun on her, ready to snap on someone, and had his fist halfway to her when he saw she looked half as worried as he felt. Dean’s hand dropped limply to his side and he cleared his throat, trying to take charge and get some freaking results.
“So… that didn’t work,” he said, rough with all the shit he was trying to force down. None of it would be helpful – it wouldn’t find Sam or help Harry.
“There’s a plan b, but we should get out of here before we get held up by aurors,” Tonks said quietly, tipping her head toward the dude behind the counter.
Dean sent him a quick glance and scoffed when he saw him with a wand raised, like Dean wouldn’t beat his pimpled face in before he could shoot off one spell.
“I have one more idea, let’s just—”
Dean winced when a sharp pain began stabbing him behind his left eye. Dean raised his hand to close his eyes and push on them, thinking it was the worst fucking time for a migraine and -
A tarnished bell…
Sam with his lip busted and frowning hard enough to get wrinkles, “I need Dean.”
Roanoke. Roanoke.
roanokeroanokeroanokeroan—
Dean gasped and as suddenly as the pictures filled his mind, they were gone. The pain was gone too, leaving Dean disoriented and staggering. He was still in the cafe, one hand on the paneled wall to stay upright, but Sam… Sam was…
What the fuck was a Roanoke? Since when was Dean the one with fucked ip psychic visions? And where was —
Dean had to shame himself from head to foot when a streak of silver flew past him - his reflexes were going to get him killed if he didn’t get his shit together - and he followed it with his eyes, still half in his mind, thinking over what he saw.
The silver turned out to be some dragon thing that drew Dean’s eyes to what he missed while he was having the vision.
Tonks must have decided either she hated the dude who worked in the shop or she was choosing a really bad time to play out some robbery fantasy. Tonks was behind the counter, her wand to the worker’s throat, yelling something that Dean hadn’t noticed. She fell silent when the dragon caught her attention, then it said the only thing Dean wanted to hear.
“Harry did bloody excellent. No injuries. Shall I send him to Sirius’s place?”
Tonks was staring at Dean when the dragon disappeared and she blinked at whatever look was on Dean’s face.
Probably whiplash.
Everything just kept happening.
Harry did it - the kid freaking did it. No injuries, he was finished.
And Dean still couldn’t breathe because Sam was gone.
“Oh, you’re not being cursed?” Tonks dropped her wand from the dude’s throat and she laughed lightly. “My mistake, mate. Why don’t we just clear out?”
The guy started bitching — “ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!” — and Dean didn’t waste any time in grabbing Tonks’s shit and following her out of the cafe.
“Roanoke,” Dean told Tonks even they were outside, standing on the sidewalk. “I’ve got no idea what it means, but that’s where Sam is.”
Dean had an idea, a half-assed memory of the case Sam worked when Dean went to the quidditch match with Harry. Oregon, maybe?
Fuck. Dean couldn’t even remember what he couldn’t remember.
Tonks waited patiently while Dean stood in the middle of Magic Town, Nowhere and combed through his memory.
Sam had a vision, lied to Dean about it, skipped out on the quidditch thing. Sam saw people dying, killing each other… he… fuck. Sam got infected with some demon-disease and he thought - he thought he was a goner.
Sam locked himself up, a saint to the freaking end, and waited to die. When the timer ended and Sam wasn’t dead, the town was a ghost town. Which explained why Dean was thinking Roanoke, they had theorized that it was what killed off the original colony of settlers.
It didn’t really help Dean figure out where Sam was, but the bell might. It had been giant, not easy to miss. It must have been a memorial or something, something that would give Dean an idea of where his brother was.
Harry was fine, Dean had to find a bell.
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Dean said, planning as he spoke. “I gotta get back to my place, find Bobby. And then I have to get my ass to Oregon.”
“Our arses,” Tonks said immediately. She flashed a smile at Dean when he swung his eyes to hers. There was something sharp in Tonks’s smile, a little dangerous.
Dean was all about bad timing cause he couldn’t help but think it made her look real good.
“I’m quite committed to seeing this through,” Tonks chirped at him. She twirled her wand between her fingers, the point obvious. “I’m not the worst assistance to have.”
“I - fine,” Dean conceded gruffly. Tonks wasn’t wrong, Dean didn’t know what he was walking into and she could probably help.
“Should I tell Charlie to let Sirius keep Harry for the night?” Tonks offered. “He could kip with my mum too, or really even Hogwarts wouldn’t be a bad place for him? If you’re tangled up with something strong enough to ward itself from tracking, Hogwarts is where I’d store my kid.”
Tonks - Jesus.
“Yeah, tell him to stay there,” Dean said. He sucked in a breath, tunneling his focus to one goal.
Harry was fine, no injuries.
Sam was in Oregon.
Dean could get Sam, get Harry. They’d figure it out together.
They had figured out so much shit together, they were a team, a family.
Dean needed his brothers and everything would be fine.
Tonks took them right back to Dean’s place and he didn’t waste any time as he sprinted across the yard and began pounding on Bobby’s back door. Tonks got distracted by a stray niffler that she tried to scoop up, but Dean was focused.
One brother was good, no injuries. The other one would be fine too.
Bobby opened the back door and Dean barely blinked as he knocked the barrel of Bobby’s shotgun out of his face.
“A giant bell in Oregon, we gotta find it.”
“Dean…?” Bobby lowered the gun and that was when Dean saw how pale he was, his flash of relief when he recognized Dean.
“We gotta go,” Bobby said, speaking quickly as he yanked Dean inside and slammed the door shut. Dean started to speak and Bobby cut him off. “Where’s Harry? He good? You gotta send ‘im to Sirius or something, Dean. You don’t want him mixed up in the steaming pile we’re about to be steppin’ in.”
Bobby has a go back on the kitchen table, overflowing with what looked like every weapon Bobby owned. Dean felt like he was playing catch up, but he needed Bobby to shut the hell up because Dean couldn’t do jack without Sam—
“There’s somethin’ big goin’ down.”
“Bobby, shut up for a—”
“Hell, I don’t want you boys in it—,”
“Hey! You gotta—”
“Ellen said Ash was tryin’ to call Sam just before the attack—”
“BOBBY!” Dean cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed, finally getting Bobby to shut the hell up. Bobby had just grabbed his gallon of holy water from beneath the kitchen sink and he paused, half-bent over, to shake his head at Dean.
“We gotta go,” Bobby stressed. “There ain’t time, Dean. Somethin’ big is happening and it’s happening in—”
“Oregon,” Dean said, sounding as calm as he could.
Anything that had Bobby rambling and sounding like a lunatic off his meds wasn’t good.
Attacks and demons and why was it always Sam?!
Bobby straightened up and he narrowed his eyes at Dean. “How’d you know that?”
“Because Sam is—” Dean got a sudden face full of holy water and he gave Bobby a shitty look as he spit the water back at him. “Missing,” Dean finished flatly. “Sam’s missing, Bobby. It - he’s just gone.”
Bobby paled three shades and he clutched the sink to keep himself upright.
“And Harry?” Bobby asked.
“He’s fine,” Dean assured him. “He’s safe, kicked that dragon’s ass. But, man, we have to find Sam.”
Bobby let out a heavy sigh and he swapped the gallon of holy water out with a bottle of whiskey from beneath the sink. Dean grabbed the bottom of his shirt and dried his face off.
“Start at the beginning.” Bobby held the bottle of whiskey out to Dean and Dean accepted it gratefully, needing something to keep everything down. “What the hell is going on?”
That was the question of the day, wasn’t it?
Dean explained everything to Bobby as quickly as he could, not leaving anything out. Bobby moved them to his office where he fired up his computer —
“God, that’s ancient, Bobby,” Sam had laughed once. “The future is technology, dude.”
— and started researching.
Tonks had let herself in halfway through Dean’s explanation and after Dean swore she wasn’t a demon, just a witch, Bobby ignored her while he researched. Tonks was distracted by a letter in her hands, nothing Dean cared about until he did.
“We have to find him,” Dean finished. “And quickly, Bobby. It was some old bell I saw, maybe something to do with colonies? Wherever it is, I think that’s where Sam is.”
Bobby nodded and kept clicking away, his eyes focused on the computer.
“River Grove,” Tonks said suddenly. Dean looked at her then and internally groaned at the weepy look in her eyes.
Dean didn’t care how much she liked Sam, if she was going to start bawling then Dean was going to lose his freaking mind.
“That’s where Sam is,” Tonks said. She held the letter she held out to Dean and he hesitated before taking it. “That’s where he was last time.”
Dean and Bobby exchanged a brief glance - just a conversation held between them where Bobby promised he’d put a bullet in Tonks’s head if it was a trick - and Dean took the letter from her.
It was Sam’s writing and that was all Dean needed to see before he began reading every word.
Dean,
I screwed up, I’m so sorry. If you’re reading this, I’m dead.
“You know I’d never let anything hurt you,” Dean promised his little brother with a ruffle of his hair and a shit-eating grin. “That’s my job.”
That sounds dramatic, but its true. I’m so sorry. I screwed up. I picked up a case in River Grove, Oregon. I thought it would help me find Azazel, but I don’t think I’m making it out of this one.
People are dying from some demon disease and I can’t stop it and I can’t save them. I can’t save myself either and I’ve got it, the demon disease.
I’m so sorry.
“What if you get hurt?” Sam asked Dean.
Dean was eighteen, invincible, on his way to his first solo-hunt. Sam was too old to act like a baby about it, but Dad wasn’t there to see Dean coddle him for a second either.
“I won’t,” Dean promised. He lifted the leather cord of his amulet and gave Sam a crooked grin. “You keep me safe, I’ll keep you safe, okay? But while I’m gone, you gotta keep yourself safe, Sam. Promise?”
Sam hadn’t been happy about it and Dean couldn’t leave until Sam promised to stay safe.
“Fine, I promise!”
I hate that you’re probably going to be the one to find me. I hate that you just lost Dad and now I’m gone. I wish I could take it back, never pick this case up. I should have gone with you and Harry.
I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry.
Tell Harry I love him, tell him that I’m so freaking glad I got to meet him. He’s just like you, you know that? I’m happy about that, because you’re the best.
I don’t know how much longer I have, not long probably. I hate this. I hate it so much.
I love you, Dean. You’re the best brother there ever was. This wasn’t on you, it was on me.I’m scared.
“I’m scared, De,” Sam whispered, his small face scrunched up while he tried to keep from crying. “I want Dad.”
“Dad’s working,” Dean groaned, rolling over in bed so there was space beside him. “C’mon, Sammy, don’t be scared. Nothing can get you if I’m here, you know that.”
I love you guys.
I’m sorry.
Love, your brother, Sam
Dean's breath caught in his throat as he finished reading, the weight of his brother's fears pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. Something was gnawing away inside Dean, causing a cold sweat to break out on his back.
It didn’t matter if Sam almost died there before. It didn’t matter if something big was happening and Dean was one dude with a pistol and a half-assed plan.
None of it mattered because Dean was going to get Sam back. Sam was going to - fuck.
How did everything get so fucked so quickly?