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Dean looked around as Sam exited the bathroom, and did a double take as he took in the suit that Sam was wearing. "Dude, you do know that we are ordering pizza, like, right now?" he said, gesturing at the phone that Cas was examining with a look of profound concentration.Sam shrugged, digging through the duffle on his bed and looking for a tie. "I know, I'll be quick."Dean frowned suspiciously as Sam began to knot the tie around his neck. "Where are you going? It's almost eight, no one's gonna want to talk to you all spoofed up or not. Unless," he added with a sudden leering grin, "You've got a date. Was it old Ms. Mallory? Cougars always did have a thing for you."Sam scoffed. "Dean, it's not a date. And I'm not a moron, I'm not showing up unannounced.""So, it is a date?""Dude, no." Sam gave Dean a dark look, one that said that he wasn't in the mood for the usual banter even if Dean was."Who the hell are you meeting with then?"Shrugging on his suitcoat, Sam sighed. "Look, we finished the hunt, and, well, I heard of someone here who has certain occult knowledge that the Men of Letters probably never had access to. I'm just going to talk with him."Dean's frown was back. "And I suppose that it was a complete coincidence that we ended up here in Oregon on a hunt right where this man lives?"Sam huffed. "That poltergeist was a real hunt, Dean, and if it just so happened to be here in Newport where Mr. Sato lives, well…two birds, one stone.""Right." Dean shook his head. He knew exactly why Sam had waited until the last minute to tell him of this new agenda—Dean had made it no secret that he thought Sam was wasting his time trying to find a way to save an already dead Mary—and he didn't want to pick a fight. Not when things were going so well, but…This didn't sit well with him. Sam was going to get his hopes up again, only to have them crushed and be more dispirited than he had been before.Cas didn't look up from the phone but turned slightly towards Sam. "Should I change the time that we pick up the pizza? I think that I can do that…oh, no, wait—" Cas raised his head, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "I tried to change the time, and I think I just deleted our order."Dean rolled his eyes and reached back to snatch his phone away from him. "Seriously?! We've already tried to put the order in twice now.""Well, maybe you humans should create systems that function properly."Dean was about to retort that he would like to see angels come up with something better when Sam slipped through the door, calling as he did so, "I'll be back in an hour or two. Don't hold the pizza.""Damnit." Dean stood, thrusting his phone back at Cas. "Don't touch anything, I wanna talk with Sam."Cas caught the phone even as he made direct eye contact with Dean. "Be gentle," he reproached loud enough for Dean to hear as he shut the door.Another time, Dean would have been irked that Cas thought he knew how to treat Sam better than he did—be gentle, my ass—but he was just still so damn relieved that Cas was alive that he was willing to let it pass without comment."Sam! Hold up!"Sam had already reached the edge of the parking lot and he turned around, surprised, and waited for Dean to catch up with him."I'm just talking with him, Dean. I'm not going to do something drastic without talking to you first," Sam said wearily."So this is about finding a way into that alternate world to find Mom?" Dean challenged, folding his arms across his chest. Sam shifted, looking like he was just resisting the urge to take a defensive stance himself."We're also trying to find where Jack went, in case you forgot. Maybe it's about that.""No, this is about Mom. You would have clued us in about Jack.""I mean, does it matter if it's about Mom or Jack?" Sam snapped as he looked away, not meeting Dean's eyes as he kicked a small rock into the street."Sammy…we've been over this," Dean said, suddenly feeling tired himself. "Mom's dead. Even if we could find another way to open a portal to that world, she's gone. She's not…she's not coming back.""We don't know that," Sam protested stubbornly. "What if she is alive? We can't just leave her there! Mom will be expecting us to find her, to be looking for a way to rescue her, to bring her back! Why is it that—" He stopped speaking abruptly, his lips thinning into a bitter look."What?" Dean pressed in exasperation but Sam just shook his head."It doesn't matter. That's not what this is about."Dean opened his mouth to protest, but Sam spoke before he could. "I'm just talking with Mr. Sato. I'm not doing anything else, so can we save this argument for another night?"This time, it was Dean who hesitated, unsure of how to put into acceptable words what he wanted to say. "Sam, we have Cas back," he began slowly. "We can't expect two miracles, that's not how this works. Hell, typically we don't get even that, so let's just celebrate that win, just for tonight, okay? Come back in, eat some pizza, and we'll turn on a crappy movie that we can make fun of."Dean met Sam's eyes steadily, silently asking for him to give in, asking for this one thing.He wanted to forget, just for a moment, about what had happened to their mother, about the fact that he had lost her not once, but twice. Everything had looked so dark after Mom and Cas had died that dreadful night, he had felt like he was suffocating as the darkness swallowed him whole.Cas's return had brought hope and light back into his life, and he wanted Sam out of that pit of darkness as well. He wanted to see hope again in Sam's eyes. Sam didn't need to keep punishing himself or working to the bone. He deserved to take a break with them. To be happy, even if it was just for a night."Dean…"Dean's shoulders slumped.He knew that look and tone. Sam was going to go, and nothing Dean said could stop him. "Sammy, c'mon. You've been workin' on findin' Jack and Mom for days now. Jack will come back when he's ready. Take the night off," he tried anyone, making one last push."I will," Sam said hurriedly, and Dean knew that one way or another that would be a lie, even if Sam didn't intend for it to be. "As soon as I get back, I'll be done. But I've got to talk to Mr. Sato. We've already set up a time to meet and I won't feel right if I just didn't show up. Besides, I've never read anything in the Men of Letters archives about what he was describing, I've got to check it out.""Okay. Okay, I understand." Dean forced a smile, trying to keep his voice light. He thought that he might have succeeded as the lines in Sam's face eased. "Hey, call me if you need anything or if you want a ride back. Where are you goin' anyway?"Sam straightened, his posture relaxing. "I will, but I shouldn't be that long, just an hour or two tops. I'm meeting Mr. Sato down at the docks, on his boat.""And you're sure that's safe?" Dean couldn't help but ask as unease sparked. Docks weren't typically the safest place to be after dark from his personal experience, and he didn't know anything about this Mr. Sato person."Dude—" Sam said pointedly, and Dean gave a self-deprecating shrug. Sam had proven time and time again that he could handle himself just fine."Alright, I get it, you're a grown-ass man. I'm still coming after you though if you aren't back by midnight. And you should text me the address, just in case.""Yeah, yeah, whatever," Sam called over his shoulder as he resumed walking, sticking his hands in his pockets to ward off the chill that was in the air.Dean shivered as well. November in Oregon couldn't be considered warm in any way and he turned back to the motel room.Sam would be fine for the moment, it was afterward that he was worried about.Cas, on the other hand, couldn't be trusted to order a pizza in person, never mind on an app. With Dean's luck, he was going to accidentally order it for tomorrow, or only get half the order and Dean's stomach couldn't afford either one.#The cold was a growing discomfort as Sam made his way to the docks, and he half wished that he had brought more than just his suitcoat but he wasn't turning back now. He had only just gotten Dean's blessing to go in the first place and he wasn't about to have the discussion again.Besides, the docks weren't far from their motel and the walk would give him time to think and to be alone.If Dean would have known that, he probably would have insisted on driving him. Dean thought that he got lost in his head too much, that he overthought things, and maybe he was right.Sam didn't know anymore.Maybe he was stupid for thinking that Mary was still alive, for believing that Lucifer hadn't killed her immediately…but he knew Lucifer. He knew him better than Dean did, better than Cas as well. Actually, he probably knew Lucifer better than any being on the planet after their time together in the cage.A chill that had nothing to do with the weather came over Sam.Lucifer would torture Mary rather than kill her, and he would take vicious delight in the knowledge that Sam knew it.Sam frowned down at the sidewalk, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets.He wouldn't wish that fate upon anyone, never mind his mother.And if she was alive, well, Sam also wasn't going to let another family member down by not looking for them, for presuming them dead. The last time he had done that it had ended…badly seemed like too light of a term for it. Dean had been beyond angry at him after he found out that Sam hadn't looked for him while he was in Purgatory.Sam wasn't letting that happen again, especially not with Mary. He wasn't going to let her down like he had Dean.Not when he didn't have that bedrock of unconditional love as he did with Dean. Not when their relationship was still so tentative and unsure…nothing like Dean and Mary's had been. Sure, Dean had had his ups and downs with their mother, but Mary had at least been willing to talk to Dean, to call him for help.It took effort to squash the bitterness and jealousy that reared up in his chest hot and strong.It wasn't Dean's fault that he was her favorite. There was just something about Dean that drew people in and made them like him. Sam didn't have that, and he was okay with it, he really was. He had long ago made his peace with Dean being most people's first choice.But this was Mary, his mother. He wasn't asking to be her favorite, he just wanted to get to know her, have her get to know him. If Mary had just tried…he needed this second chance almost as much as Mary needed saving.Sam broke himself out of his dark thoughts as he found himself approaching the docks. The ocean was mostly calm tonight, the waves breaking gently up against the boats. It was peaceful in a way that his life never had been.Despite his years traveling the country, Sam had not spent a lot of time at the docks, or on the ocean for that matter, and it took him several minutes to locate the right area, and then the right boat, the Ichika.Mr. Sato didn't appear to be there yet, but Sam was a little early so it was understandable. Leaning up against the metal railings to wait, Sam pulled out his phone.It would give him a moment to peruse the most recent documents he had found about alternate universes, anyway. They had been helpful, somewhat, but they also had large gaps that he was having trouble filling in. He had already spent a painstakingly large amount of time adding to the Men of Letters archives on the subject, but he had little to show for all his work.Mary's survival depended on him, on his ability to fill it in, and he was failing miserably.Mary wasn't the only one depending on him, though, and he was going to have to make it up to his brother for missing tonight. Dean was riding the high of Cas's return, but how long was it going to last? When the low hit, was Sam going to be able to help, or would he remain as useless as he had thus far been with Mary's rescue? It felt like he had done a pretty damn poor job the last few weeks when Dean was so low. When his brother had pulled that little suicide stunt with the ghosts…Sam had never felt more like a failure than at that moment.On top of that, they needed to find Jack as well. The kid wasn't that old, not really, and—in no small part thanks to them—had some pretty screwed-up misconceptions about himself and his worth. He needed to be guided, to be led. Needed to be with Cas who would help him more than—The splash of a rock hitting the water made Sam jump, and he looked around to see a young boy leaning over the railing several yards away, grinning. He scooped another rock out of his pocket. Tossing it as far as he could manage into the ocean, he thrust a fist into the air joyfully as it created an even bigger splash. He looked over his shoulder, chattering happily at a man who was watching him with a soft smile."Mr. Sato?" Sam called out, fumbling his phone away into his suitcoat pocket. Mr. Sato made eye contact and raised a hand in greeting. He tapped the boy on the shoulder, and they began to make their way toward him."Sam Winchester," Mr. Sato said in a heavy Japanese accent as he reached out, shaking Sam's hand. It was a firm grip that Sam easily returned. Mr. Sato pointed at the young boy. "This is Gordon, my son. He wished to come along. It will not bother you…?""No, no. Of course not, as long as you are alright with it," Sam said, his lips twitching upwards as Gordon pulled out another rock and heaved it into the ocean."Gordon." Mr. Sato gave Gordon a pointed look and Gordon shot ahead of them, scampering over to the ramp that led to the boat. Mr. Sato smiled at Sam, gesturing for him to follow."I am sorry that we had to meet so late, we had a family event before this," Mr. Sato said as they walked."No need to apologize," Sam said quickly, shaking his head. "I'm just grateful that you are willing to meet with me.""Of course."Gordon was already on the boat, waiting impatiently for them to catch up. Sam carefully climbed aboard and resisted the brief urge to grab ahold of the safety railings as the boat rocked under his feet.Gordon saw his moment of hesitation and smirked down at him."How old are you?" Sam asked, forcing himself to relax."Eight. Almost nine though. My birthday's in January."Sam couldn't even remember what it felt like to be that young, but he felt himself fighting a smile at the boy's exuberance."This way," Mr. Sato motioned towards a small doorway that led below deck. "We can talk privately down there. And watch yourself, please. It can be slippery."Sam nodded, following Gordon as he once again took the lead. Ducking through the doorway, he found himself in a small, cramped, area that was loaded with fishing gear.Gordon skipped right to the back corner, pulling at a small plastic box in the corner. It looked to be filled with small toy soldiers, and he began to set them up along a bench that ran the length of the room. Mr. Sato gestured to the bench closer to the door, and Sam sat down."I am happy to talk with you, but I would also like to keep this brief if you don't mind," Mr. Sato began, sitting down between Gordon and Sam. "It is a school night and the docks are not always as safe at night as they used to be. Especially for us," he added in a soft, almost ashamed tone.Sam opened his mouth to ask what he meant but thought better of it. It wasn't his right to pry. "Right, ah…" Sam took a moment to compose his thoughts. "One of my sources told me that your great-great-grandfather had passed down a token from another world. Is that true?"Mr. Sato pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Before we continue, why do you desire such information, and what do you intend to do with it? This is a treasured family belief that I will not have mocked."Sam sighed, clasping his hands together. He didn't want to go into all…that, but it was a fair question, and one that deserved an honest answer, or at least as honest of one as he could give. He didn't know if Mr. Sato believed in the Bible, but Lucifer probably wasn't the best person to start with nor was the fact that he was simply trying to connect with his mother who had actually been dead for most of his life.Instead, he simply said that his mother had disappeared into what he believed to be an alternate reality and that he was trying to find her.It took just under an hour before Mr. Sato and Sam were both satisfied with the information given and received. Despite his early request for efficiency, Mr. Sato had taken great care in explaining how his great-great-uncle had traveled to a new world, returning with strange coins and clothes as proof. He had returned to the alternate world, to gather more evidence for disbelievers, only to never return.Mr. Sato then reverently produced a strange-looking piece of metal, showing it to Sam."When I came to America twenty years ago," he said as he hovered over Sam's shoulder while Sam examined the coin, "I promised my father that I would never lose that coin, that I would treasure it above my own life. I have done so.""I understand." Sam gently passed the coin back. Returning to his notebook where he had been keeping detailed notes of their conversation, he quickly added a note of the strange markings on the coin.Racking his brains and coming up with nothing else to ask, Sam flipped the small notebooks shut and gave Mr. Sato another smile. "Thank you for your time.""Of course. May I?" Mr. Sato gestured at the notebook and Sam pulled it defensively back. Seeing the look on his face, Mr. Sato added in explanation, "I want to make sure that you have it down correctly, so that you may find your mother."Sam frowned a little but reluctantly opened the notebook to the correct page—Mr. Sato didn't need to be reading about wendigos or ghosts or whatever else Sam had written in there over the years—before passing it over. Mr. Sato nodded, his face scrunching up in concentration.A group of people outside laughed loudly, and Sam looked around out of habit before shaking his head. Leaning back against the bench, he fought the urge to stand up and start pacing. He didn't do well with nothing to do anymore, he felt like he should be doing something, he had to be doing something. He was wasting time just sitting here, not when there were files to look over, articles to be read…"Do you miss your Mom?" Gordon's question took him by surprise and Sam looked over. He had stopped playing with the plastic soldiers and was watching Sam with his head cocked to the side."Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do," Sam said softly.Gordon nodded. "I miss my sister, sometimes. She's staying with Grandma and Grandpa for a year, they live back in Japan.""That must be hard. I have a brother, and there have been times when he has had to go away and that was never easy." Those were times that Sam didn't dwell upon if he could help it."I wish that I had a brother. But I only have sisters." Gordon frowned and Sam scoffed a laugh."If it's any consolation, I used to sometimes wish that I had a sister instead of a brother."Gordon made a disbelieving face. "You wouldn't, not if—"The boat rocked as someone jumped on board.All three of them looked upwards, and then Gordon froze, a look of terror on his young face."Otocahn?" he whispered but Mr. Sato's hand rose, calling for silence. Sam looked between them, unease filling his stomach as the hair on the back of his neck rose to stand on end.Muted laughter came from above and Mr. Sato cast a look first at Gordon and then at Sam. There was fear there, Sam could read it even if he doubted that Gordon could.Reaching behind him, Sam slipped his gun free from where it had been resting at the small of his back. Ten years ago, he probably wouldn't have had a weapon on him for such a meeting, but too many things had happened since then and he was no longer as innocent."Do you want me to go...?" he left the whispered question hanging, quiet enough that only Mr. Sato would hear. Mr. Sato violently shook his head, pointing at himself."No. I will go."The laughter was louder, and now they could hear multiple voices talking over each other as the boat rocked under their feet.Sam hesitated. He didn't know the situation, and he wasn't sure that it was his place to jump in, but…Sam knew a lot of things that Mr. Sato never would and could protect himself and them if it came down to it.Mr. Sato turned to Gordon and gave him hurried instructions in Japanese. Gordon began to shake his head, and Sam could see tears springing up in his eyes."No!" he protested, and Mr. Sato flinched, covering his mouth with one hand while jabbing a finger towards the bench, once again speaking in Japanese. The message was clear. Gordon was to stay down below, away from any sort of danger.Sam stood. "I'm coming with you."Mr. Sato shook his head again, and this time pointed at Sam, and then Gordon. "Stay with him, please.""No, I'm coming." Sam swelled to his full height, fully prepared to assist in any way that he could. Mr. Sato struck him as a good man, and Sam wasn't going to sit by passively in what could become a dangerous situation.Mr. Sato looked distressed, but before he could say anything else the boat roared to life. Sam started, and Mr. Sato looked up in alarm.He uttered something in Japanese and began to run up the steps. Sam swiveled, pointing at Gordon. "Stay here, whatever you hear, okay?" he ordered, before following Mr. Sato. He stuck his gun in his pocket where it would be within easy reach should he need it but also out of sight. It was possible that they could talk themselves out of this and he didn't want to further escalate the situation by showing up with a weapon."Stop! Stop!" Mr. Sato yelled at the top of his lungs as he burst onto the main deck."Damnit—!" A large and burly man that was leaning against the wheelhouse flinched, flinging himself around. He stumbled, throwing out the hand that wasn't holding a mostly empty bottle of whiskey to catch ahold of the railing.Three other men were hunched around the wheel, and they turned around at the cry."You—you aren't supposed to be here," the man said, swiping at his mouth. Two of the three other men moved down from the helm and Sam eyed them darkly."Stop this right now. You must get off this boat, Mr. Jones, off!" Mr. Sato snarled, gesturing first at the middle man who appeared to be the leader, and then towards the docks.Mr. Jones looked dumbfounded at being caught, his mouth opening and closing, but his expression smoothed over into a sneer. "Sorry, I can't understand you. I don't speak your language."Sam reared back, feeling sudden and bright anger igniting in his chest and he took a step forward, but it was Mr. Sato who spoke up. "You understood just fine. Now get off this boat."Mr. Jones wasn't paying him any attention though as he caught sight of Sam. He took a swig from his bottle of whiskey as he examined him with narrowed eyes."And who are you?" he asked, swaying a little. He reeked of alcohol, and his eyes were bloodshot in the light of the lamps."It doesn't matter," Sam said shortly. "You need to leave, as Mr. Sato has asked."Mr. Jones sneered at him as he took a step back so that he was surrounded by his cronies. "Nah…me and the boys, we don't feel like it, do we? Besides, who are you to boss us around?"A muscle in Sam's jaw twitched as he made to stride forward, but Mr. Sato threw out a hand, stopping him. "No…we do not want violence." He gave Sam a rebuking look."We don't want violence," Mr. Jones mocked in an unflattering attempt to copy Mr. Sato's accent and Sam's lip curled.Mr. Sato didn't react. "Leave," he stated firmly, "or I will call the police."Mr. Jones and the other men laughed. "You can't do that if there's no reception. Donnie!" He looked over his shoulder towards the smallest of the men, who hurried back to the wheel. A moment later, the boat was easing out into the ocean and further away from the docks.Sam's stomach flipped uncomfortably as he looked around at Mr. Sato, trying to gauge his reaction. This couldn't be good. Mr. Jones was clearly drunk and there wasn't much chance of him listening to reason, not when he was surrounded by his friends to egg him on. They needed to de-escalate the situation and get them back to the docks and dry land."Look," Sam began, lowering his voice soothingly as he held up both hands. "You didn't expect Mr. Sato to be here, so how about you dock the boat, and we all get off and go our separate ways? No harm, no foul."Mr. Jones made a face. "I already told you, pretty boy, we ain't doin' that.""And why not? I mean, if we all get off the boat and go home then nobody has to get in trouble. I'll even buy you guys a round of drinks at the nearest bar."Mr. Jones snorted, draining the last of the liquor from his bottle. "No. I'm tired of being cheated by this outsider. We were fishing here before anyone else, our grandaddies were here first, and-and I'm done dealing with him and others like him."Next to him, Mr. Sato was looking increasingly distressed as he wrung his hands together, casting a glance behind him and presumably toward Gordon. "Please, I have a family I must feed as well. Can we not discuss this off the boat?""Shut your mouth!" Mr. Jones hurled the bottle towards the deck, his eyes wide with sudden wrath, and the glass shattered into a thousand pieces. Mr. Sato backed up a step, shocked, even as Sam stepped forward, putting himself firmly between Mr. Sato and the progressively violent men."Don't do something that you're going to regret come morning.""I could say the same to you." Mr. Jones laughed, and it was higher than Sam would have expected, setting his teeth on edge. The other men joined in. "Besides, we're just going ten miles out, right, so just sit tight.""Why ten?" Sam asked sharply.Mr. Jones and his men exchanged amused glances. "Seemed like a good number, that's all. "Mr. Sato probably knew exactly what they were talking about—his face had paled a little—but Sam thought that he could guess.Twelve miles out to sea would put them out of Oregon's jurisdiction and under Federal law, and that was not something that Mr. Jones would want. Ten miles, on the other hand, would be far enough away from shore to not attract attention, but keep them under state law should their plans go wrong.Whatever these men were up to, it wasn't good.The boat, now out in the open sea, took a hard turn and Sam stumbled slightly, thrown by the movement. None of the other men were affected and Sam's unease rose. He hadn't spent much time on boats and even when he was on one, it typically wasn't moving. These men had spent a lifetime on them and if there was to be a fight, he was going to be at a serious disadvantage, despite the other men being drunk.This night kept getting worse and worse.Mr. Jones was looking at him with an odd expression on his face. "Rob, watch 'em," Sam heard him mutter as he slapped the back of his hand against the chest of the man to his right.Rob blinked drunkenly over at Sam, his eyes narrowing in concentration as he staggered closer to them.Mr. Jones wasn't going to listen to reason. Sam had to do something, and surprise would be his only advantage.He waited until the boat picked up speed again, cresting a wave and making Rob sway. Lunging forward, he twisted Rob's hand behind his back, wrestled the whiskey bottle free, and then shoved Rob down to land hard on his side.Sam flung the bottle off the side of the boat so that no one could use it as a weapon as Rob howled in pain, clutching at his wrist."Stay down," Sam warned tightly."No!" Mr. Sato was protesting and a moment later the largest man lunged at Sam, who easily moved away from his drunken stagger. Grabbing him by the back of the coat, Sam yanked the man around to face him. His fist clipped Sam's side, but Sam retaliated with a jab to the face. Something crunched, and the man yelled, blood now spurting freely from his nose. Sam yanked him in closer even as he pulled back his fist, preparing to administer a blow that would keep the man down."Sam!" Mr. Sato shouted in warning, his voice panicked.Sam wheeled around.He would have been able to stop the blow had they been on dry land, but the boat turned sharply just at that moment and Sam lurched to the side, his balance thrown off.A whiskey bottle, aimed at his head and hefted by Mr. Jones, came down hard.Blinding pain shot through Sam's skull and he faintly heard the sound of shattering glass mixed with Mr. Sato's protests before consciousness fled and he knew no more.
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"I'm leavin' to get the pizza," Dean announced as he grabbed the keys and his jacket from where he had left them on his bed. Cas looked up from the TV, and then hurriedly stood."I will come with you.""Okay…" Dean said in mild surprise, staring at his longtime friend with narrowed eyes. "It's just pizza. You don't have to come, I've done food runs by myself before, you know.""No, I desire to come with you," Cas insisted, and Dean shrugged. He was sure that he would hear exactly why Cas wanted to come sooner rather than later.He was right.The pizza place wasn't that far, and Dean had hardly pulled out of the parking lot before Cas opened his mouth and said without any warning, "Sam is worried about you."Dean's jaw clenched shut, and he ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. Of course, they couldn't just go on a simple food run…"Did you seriously wait until we were in the car to say that, just so I couldn't leave the conversation? Because I can drop you off right now and you can walk back to the motel. Wait, did Sam put you up to this?!"Cas's silence was as damning as anything he could have said.Dean's hands clenched around the wheel. "That son of a bitch. I'm fine. In fact, I'm more than fine, I'm peachy.""Sam does not agree," Cas continued doggedly. "He told me what happened, with the ghosts in that manner and that you took an extremely dangerous risk to finish the hunt. Sam is concerned about your mental state." Cas's voice was hard, and he was looking at Dean with such an intensity that Dean could feel it even as he kept his eyes locked on the road.He shook his head, laughing darkly. "I wasn't trying to kill myself if that was what Sam told you. I did what needed to be done to finish the hunt, he's just overreacting, you know how he gets.""And I believe that you are deflecting. Besides, I trust your brother, and his judgment, especially where you are concerned. He has been right many times when I have been wrong about you in the past."Cas was still staring at Dean, who risked looking between him and the road as his exasperation began to get the better of him."Right. So, are you saying that Sam knows my intentions better than I do?""No, but he does have an uncanny ability to guess what you intend to do. Take Michael for instance, during the apocalypse. I was so sure that you were going to say yes, even you believed that you would. Yet Sam knew that you weren't going to. I believe you both have a better grasp of each other than anyone."Dean rolled his eyes, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn't intended to kill himself, but if that had been the outcome he wouldn't have exactly complained, and what Cas was saying was hitting a little too close to home."I don't know what you want me to say, I just wanted answers, to finish the hunt!""There were other ways to get those answers," Cas challenged and raised his voice to cover Dean's protests. "You were reckless and did not consider other people's feelings. I never would have wanted you to give up like that, and I know that Mary would not have either. Did you not think of Sam? Did you think of anybody but yourself?" Cas's tone was harsh, and his words sliced into Dean with all the efficiency of a blade."Well, why don't you tell me what you really think," Dean snapped, his foot pressing harder on the accelerator. "And if there is one thing that I'm not, it's selfish. Do you know how much Sam and I have given up over the years?""I did not call you selfish. I said you didn't think about how your actions would hurt others." Cas paused, his brow furrowing before he plunged ahead, "Over the years that I have known you, I have heard you express your frustration and disappointment in Sam for leaving the hunting life behind. Do you not realize that you were threatening to do the same? That you were going to cause the same hurt."Dean snorted, shaking his head. It wasn't the same. It wasn't.Besides, he wasn't dumb enough not to know what his death would do to Sam. Their relationship was stronger, more sure, than it had been before he had died for the first time. They had paid hell—literally—to get there but he was no longer as blind about his worth to Sam as he had once been.Cas was on a roll and didn't stop his tirade. "I have lived through many of my brother's and sister's deaths. I know what it feels like to lose those that you care for. But you don't give up. You keep fighting, even if that is all that you can do. Even if I die, Dean, you have to promise me that you'll keep fighting. And if not for me then for Sam. Sam is alive. He needs you still, even after all these years.""Cas…" Dean heaved a sigh, feeling suddenly tired. He didn't want to talk about this. "I wasn't giving up, I just…I couldn't see where to go or what to do after you and Mom died. I was drowning, and I just—" Dean cut himself off, shaking his head. He didn't want to think about that. He didn't want to think about the despair that had overtaken him, about the darkness that had been dragging him down.Cas seemed to wilt, his righteous anger fading. "And what about Mary? Do you honestly believe that your mother is dead? Sam seems to full-heartedly believe that she is still alive.""Well, she's not."Dean pulled into the parking lot of the pizza joint and slammed the gearshift into park. He made to get out of the car, but Cas's hand on his arm stopped him."We need to finish this conversation," he stated, the hint of angelic power that he rarely exposed tainting his voice. That had never impressed Dean, and he shrugged him off."Dean?" Cas followed him out of the car, striding in front of him to cut him off. "I promised Sam that I would talk to you, partly because I too am concerned. It's not like you to just assume that Mary is dead, to not even try to find out if she is alive. Even if you can't talk to Sam about this, you can—""I don't need to talk to anybody, I'm fine! I'm just facing reality. Why can't anyone else understand that Lucifer killed her? She's dead, she's gone," Dean insisted, spreading his arms wide. Cas appeared about as impressed with his stand as Dean had been with his and Dean dropped his arms. "You know what? I'm done with this. We aren't talking about that right now, you can either get back in the car and wait for me, or you can walk back to the motel."Dean turned on his heel, and strode into the pizza parlor, letting the door slam shut behind him.The young girl working the counter cowed under his glare. He slapped the credit card down, gave her the fake name attached to the card, and then turned his back impatiently waiting.She didn't bother trying to make small talk as she gathered up the two boxes of pizza sitting behind the counter and handed them over. Feeling slightly bad, Dean tried to force a smile that felt more like a grimace, tossed a dollar into the tip jar, and left.Cas was sitting mutinously inside the Impala, and Dean fought the urge just to keep walking past the car and back to the motel. He didn't want to talk about Mary or himself. He just wanted to eat pizza, hang out with Cas and Sam, and forget everything else.He didn't want to think about the possibility of Mary being alive. She was dead. She had to be dead.It was a silent ride back, and even the smell of the pizza couldn't lift his mood.Jurassic Park was playing on the TV when they returned, and Dean settled himself on the bed, the pizza spread out on the table that they dragged between them. Cas sat on Sam's bed, reaching out occasionally for a slice, but he mostly left it for Dean to eat.Only, not even the T-rex could capture Dean's attention. He didn't even make it through half of a box of pizza before his consciousness began to prick at him.Cas hadn't deserved that. He was just trying to help and Dean shouldn't have yelled at him. His damned anger just got the better of him so quickly…but maybe it wouldn't hurt to least talk to Cas, to tell him why. It might even make him feel better if Sam was to be believed.They were almost done with the movie before Dean worked up the courage to start talking. He waited until the commercials came on, and then reached for the remote, muting the TV.Cas looked over instantly, confused, and Dean's palms started to sweat."I can't think about Mom being alive," he began softly, his gaze focused on a stain in the carpet because he couldn't look at anyone, didn't want anyone looking at him. "Because if she is, then Lucifer has her. And Lucifer—" Dean had to stop. The burning in his eyes and the lump in his throat came as a surprise even to him. Cas was patient even as he shifted so that he was looking more directly at Dean."But she would be alive. Is that not what you have wanted your whole life?"Dean swallowed thickly, clenching his hands together. "Sammy still wakes up screaming sometimes, even all these years later. I still—I'm the one who listens to that, who has to wake him up from dreams about the cage. I don't even really know how bad it got, but what I see and hear about what he went through, what he still goes through…Sammy doesn't scare easily, but Lucifer…he hurt Sam in ways that—if Mom is going through that, I can't—it would be better for her if she was dead. I can't fix what happened to Sammy and, man, if I would have realized what he was going to suffer through when he jumped into that damn pit, I wouldn't have rested a damn moment until I got him out, but he was tortured, worse than he'll ever admit too, and-and this is Mom—" he was rambling, and he knew it. He stopped, looking hopelessly over at Cas.Cas was nodding slowly, his face thoughtful. "I think I understand better now."Dean drew in a deep breath, blinking back the tears, and unmuted the TV pointedly. His face was burning with both embarrassment and emotion, and he ignored Cas's empathetic look.Sam would probably insult him at this point, even he—sometimes—knew when to stop with the puppy eyes and feelings, but apparently, Cas hadn't picked that ability up quite yet.Turning his attention back to the TV, Dean took another piece of pizza, more to have something to do than anything else. His face was still burning, and he wished that Cas would go back to watching the movie. He didn't know if he felt better or not after the conversation. He knew for sure that he didn't feel better when he came to the sudden realization that Cas was probably going to report all this back to Sam the first chance that he got.It would only hurt Sam, and he didn't want that. Sam bottled up too much about his time in the cage as it was, only telling Dean the bare minimum after particularly bad nightmares or when it was necessary. Sam also worried enough about him for the both of them, if he knew he would probably only worry more, and then both Cas and Sam would watch his every move, interpreting them to mean who knew what."Hey, don't say anything to Sam," he requested abruptly. Cas pursed his lips, his already forming plans no doubt thwarted. "Cas, I don't want you to tell Sam.""Sam deserves—""I know, Cas, I know. I'll—" Dean made a face, scratching at the back of his head. "I'll talk to him," he said half-heartedly, making sure that there was no promise attached of when exactly that would happen.Cas didn't look pleased, but he agreed. "Fine, I will not tell him."Dean inclined his head in acknowledgment.They were silent until Cas suddenly piped up, pointing at the TV, "You know, dinosaurs did not look like that."Dean huffed, shaking his head in amusement. "Don't spoil the magic, man.""But—""Nah, you can't spoil Jurassic Park like that, I won't allow it."#Sam's head was throbbing in beat with his heart when consciousness returned. Hot, fresh, blood was drying down the side of his face and neck, and he breathed out a groan."Are you alright?"That wasn't Dean's gruff concern and Sam jerked his head up, making the pounding worse. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for his suddenly rebellious stomach to calm before opening them again. Mr. Sato was in his personal space and his eyes were wide with concern.Sam stared at him for a moment, and then memory came rushing back. They were on a boat that had been hijacked by idiots."You okay?" Sam asked tightly, bringing a hand up to his head. There was a jagged cut on the crown of his head, and the fresh blood was tacky against his fingers. Mr. Sato cast an anxious look to the side, and Sam twisted his head gingerly in that direction.Mr. Jones was sitting across from them, a deep frown on his face as he gazed down at the objects in his hands. Sam looked down to see that he was holding Sam's gun and his FBI badge. He had left the badge in his pocket after their recent interviews and had forgotten about it."Agent," Mr. Jones said coolly, and the smile that he tossed Sam's direction was bitter. He flung the billfold aside onto the deck before swiping a hand across his jaw, looking distressed. "So…what are you going to do to us? We ain't exactly done anything wrong yet, so you can't arrest us."Sam grabbed onto the railing that was just above his head and used it to pull himself up. Mr. Sato took ahold of his arm, assisting him and keeping him steady even as his head throbbed, his vision blurring for a moment before he blinked it clear."Not done anything wrong? You stole Mr. Sato's boat and you kidnapped us. I could put you away for physical assault on a federal agent," Sam bluffed, trying to think through the pain.Mr. Jones's face smoothed out, and Sam wasn't sure that was a good thing. "I can't go to prison, I can't…" He ran a hand over his face again, staring out into the sea. The boat rocked gently, riding the waves, and making Sam feel more nauseated than before. The lights of Newport were distant blobs, and Sam figured that they had reached the ten miles out that Mr. Jones wanted.Sam shifted forward, ignoring Mr. Sato's small shake of his head and the hands that tried to hold him back. "How about we just forget that this ever happened? You turn the boat around, take us back to land, and I won't press charges." Although, if by chance that worked, Sam would be leaving Jones's name at the local police station because there was no way that Mr. Jones was just going to leave Mr. Sato's family alone.The most important thing right now, however, was getting off the boat and away from immediate danger.Mr. Jones snorted and shook his head as he pushed himself to his feet. "Donnie, tie 'em up. We've got to think about our options."Donnie nodded, stepping forward with a thick length of rope. Mr. Sato threw a glance over his shoulder in indecision, but he had little choice but to allow himself to be tied to the railing. Sam closed his eyes and managed only a sharp intake of breath when he was yanked around to face the railing. Squeezing his eyes shut further, he allowed his head to sink forward and rest against the cool fiberglass as his wrists were similarly bound.It wasn't worth the effort to put up a fight, not right now. Besides, he knew a thing or two about slipping out of ropes.As soon as Donnie was done, the four men converged near the wheel, holding a hurried and hushed conversation. Sam could see his badge being passed around, and the looks of horror on their faces.Sam delicately turned back to face Mr. Sato."Are you okay?" Mr. Sato asked immediately, his face pinched in worry. "You are still bleeding.""I'm fine," Sam grunted. "Do they know about…" he inclined his head towards the stairs leading below deck. Mr. Sato shook his head."Good." Sam frowned again, watching the group of men. "I'm getting you out of this. You wouldn't have been here if it wasn't for me, so I'm getting you out.""Violence can only bring more violence," Mr. Sato insisted."Yeah…" Sam said noncommittedly as he began to flex his wrists. There was a jagged bit on the railing and he began to inch his hands towards it. Hopefully, it would be sharp enough to cut through the rope…"We can't do that!" one of the men—Rob, maybe—protested and Sam looked around."We have to!" Mr. Jones gripped Rob by the lapels of his jacket, shaking him slightly. "We don't have a choice. It's either this or prison. I can't afford a damn lawyer; we've got to take care of it ourselves. It will be simpler this way. One hour, and then it will never come back to bite us in the ass.""He said that he won't press charges," Donnie returned, and Mr. Jones rounded on him."Do you believe that load of crap, because I don't! He's just going to wait and as soon as they are both safe, he's gonna come banging down our doors with backup. He can identify all of us, he knows who we are. He's going to put us in prison, and we aren't ever going to be able to see our kids again, or-or women. Think of that, no sex, no football, no fishing, no nothing!""I agree with Fred," said the man whose name Sam still didn't know. "We're all going to go to prison unless we clean up. They weren't supposed to be here, but that doesn't change much. And it's not like we haven't done it before."Mr. Jones—Fred—cast a fearful and anxious glance over at Mr. Sato and Sam, and dropped his voice as he replied. He still wasn't quiet enough to stop Sam from making it out, however."Henry's right. We did it with Willy. It will be easier this time, people won't look at us.""Willy was asking for it, and didn't have no wife and kids," Rob snapped back. "Sato does, and maybe that FBI agent too. They are going to actively look into it. People are going to notice if they disappear.""But no one knows that we were here," Mr. Jones insisted. "They can look into the disappearances, but they are never going to be able to connect us to it. We can do this, we can. Trust me." He clasped Rob's shoulder, squeezing hard.Sam had heard enough. Mr. Sato had as well if his expression was anything to go off of."My family, my son," he said, his voice low and terrified as he tugged ineffectively at his bonds. Sam didn't reply as he scooted closer to the railing and the jagged piece of metal. He began to saw at the ropes, his movements hurried and sloppy."I don't know…" Rob said again, but he was wavering, Sam could feel it.Mr. Jones put both hands on his shoulders, staring directly into his eyes. "I won't let this come back on you, I promise. It will be fine, but it's the only way. If we don't do this, then your life is over."Rob dropped his gaze, nodding slowly."Good man, here," Mr. Jones produced another bottle of whiskey from the large duffle bag that he had brought, which he shoved into Rob's hands. He took a deep swallow, and then the bottle was passed around.Henry was the last. Grinning, he raised the bottle over his head. "TO FREEDOM!" he screamed into the night, and the men answered the cry with a drunken cheer of their own.Rallying, Rob, Donnie, and Henry jumped into action, moving hurriedly around the boat and pulling objects from the duffle.Mr. Jones strode back over to them, and Sam slowed the sawing motions, looking up with disdain. Mr. Jones was smiling softly, but it didn't warm his eyes."Did you know that this is a gas-engine boat, Agent?""No," Sam ground out, trying to still subtly work on the ropes. Mr. Sato stiffened next to him."Please, don't do this."Mr. Jones ignored Mr. Sato, still talking to Sam."Well, it is. And gas engine boats, as I am sure that Sato here knows, tend to blow up under the right conditions. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that you were both on board.""First-degree murder is going to put you away for a hell of a long time. An assault charge would be like a slap on the wrist in comparison, think about this," Sam implored."Or—" Mr. Jones countered, "no prison time, no fines, no slap on the wrist. You just…disappear. In a tragic accident.""This is the dumbest plan that I have ever heard of and, trust me, I've heard a lot of stupid plans before. My partner is in town, he knows where I went. He's going to be looking for me, and he is not going to rest until he finds out the truth."Sam stared into Mr. Jones's eyes, trying to convey the truth of his words, trying to put the fear of God into him, or at least the fear of a very pissed-off Dean Winchester. Mr. Jones drew back, breaking eye contact but still looking determined.Damn it. Even a furious Dean would do little for Sam and the Satos right now. They would be dead long before Mr. Jones grew to regret his decision after Dean hunted him down and made him pay.Even if the explosion didn't kill them, they would end up in the water and that surely would. It was bitter cold just sitting out in the open, the ocean was sure to be frigid. They would survive the resulting hypothermia for no more than an hour, maybe a little more if they were lucky, and that was if they didn't drown. Dean wouldn't miss him before that, and even if he did, he wouldn't think to look in the middle of the ocean.Mr. Jones seemed to be thinking along the same lines, and his smile turned smug. "If your supposed partner does come looking for you, what is he going to do? Drain the ocean? And if he digs a little deeper…well, it's poor Sato's fault over there that his boat blew up. He knew that you were meeting him, not me. In no way does this connect back to us."Henry walked past them, pouring what smelled like gasoline in a haphazard line along the deck of the boat.This wasn't good."Do you plan to die with us?" Mr. Sato asked, straightening and glaring hard into Mr. Jones's face.Mr. Jones cast him a condescending look. "And why would I do that?"Sam blamed his aching head that it took him a second to catch onto what Mr. Sato was talking about, but when he did, he snorted. "Mr. Sato's right. Aren't you forgetting something?""Forgetting something? We've forgotten nothing. We came here to blow up his damn boat. We just didn't expect you to be here, but perhaps that is an unlooked-for blessing."Mr. Sato shook his head and his voice was hard when he said loudly, "You are all so drunk, you have forgotten the most important part, you fool."Mr. Jones's cheeks flushed a deep red and he grabbed Mr. Sato, jerking him forward. "You listen here, you ignorant bastard, you have no right to call me a fool.""What, are you not smart enough to figure it out yourself?" Sam jumped in, trying to draw the attention back to himself. He shared another glance with Mr. Sato, before continuing. He leaned forward, staring directly into Mr. Jones's eyes so that he could remember this moment for however long he had left to live. "You forgot a second boat.""A second—oh, damn." Mr. Jone's eyes went wide and the wrath turned to horror. He thrust Mr. Sato back as he hurriedly stood."Damnit, we forgot the second boat. Henry, hold up! We've got a problem. We can't blow this piece of junk up with us still on it."Henry froze from where he was still pouring gasoline across any surface that he could reach. The other men stopped what they were doing as well, looking to Mr. Jones for further instruction.Mr. Sato leaned over to Sam. "And that is why you never plan anything drunk off your ass," he muttered with a glint in his eye.Sam couldn't disagree.Any other time, it would have been humorous to watch the frantic conversation happening between the four men, but Sam could only feel foreboding. These men were idiots. They hadn't stopped to even think about what they were doing, they just did it. And now they were thinking of killing a man who, as far as Sam was aware, had done nothing to them except fish in the same ocean. Who knew what they were going to do next, what absurd plan they would hatch?He went back to sawing at his wrists. The first layer of rope was frayed—his wrists were now decorated with small cuts—and would snap soon, giving enough for Sam to be able to free his hands."We have to stop, we have to go back!" Rob snapped sharply, and Sam cocked his head to the side, listening."What if we got on the radio and called in Troy?" Henry protested in turn. "He'd come and get us.""Do we really want to include Troy? He's a son of a bitch, he might rat on us."The rope gave way and Sam quickly shook them off, giving Mr. Sato a quenching look as he let out a small gasp of excitement. His fingers were numb from the lack of circulation, but he turned and began to fumble with the ropes around Mr. Sato's wrists."Besides, Tory won't come." This time it was Donnie speaking, and Sam looked over his shoulder, trying to gauge how much time they had before it was noticed that they were breaking free."Well, what else do you want us to do? You're the moron who forgot the boat," Henry shoved Donnie roughly, who returned the shove with equal force."Me?! You said grab the gasoline and follow me. That was all Fred. It's his fault that we are in this situation! And now that FBI dude is gonna put us into prison, all because you guys forgot the damn second boat."Rob jumped into the fight as well, and soon all three were going at it.Sam tugged furiously on the knot in the rope, trying to get Mr. Sato free before anything else happened."HEY!"The alarm in Mr. Jones's voice indicated that he finally recognized that Sam was free and Sam hunched closer to the rope, willing the knot to give. Mr. Sato had no chance, not if he was still tied up when and if they set the boat on fire..."Sam!"Mr. Sato's warning was unnecessary, but it gave him a split second to prepare for the pain before a hand dug into his hair, yanking his head back."You bastard, you son of a bitch!" Mr. Jones dragged Sam roughly away and backhanded him hard across the face before tossing him onto the deck and into a puddle of gasoline. The smell was strong enough to make Sam want to gag, but Mr. Jones didn't let him move, kicking him vigorously in the chest.Sam grunted, curling forward in an effort to protect himself but Mr. Jones did not stop."You—don't—get—to—ruin—our—lives—you—filthy—government—piece—of—crap!" Mr. Jones grunted, punctuating each word with a kick. Sam bit back a groan as he felt one of his ribs give way under the pressure, sending fiery bolts of sharp agony running through his body. He curled inwards, gasping and trying to ward off the attack."STOP!"This time it was someone else who yelled, but Sam was in too much pain to make out who.Mr. Jones froze with his leg pulled back in preparation for another kick, looking startled. "Henry…" he said, quickly moving away from Sam.Sam spit a mouthful of blood from a split lip onto the deck as he gingerly rolled over to see what was happening.Henry was standing over Donnie, and in his hand was a lit cigarette lighterSam's stomach plummeted."Don't touch me again, you son of a bitch, 'cause I'll do it. I'll blow this boat up with you on it!" Henry yelled, one of his eyes already starting to bruise and swell up. Donnie didn't look any better and was clutching at his arm as if it was hurting him."Henry!" Mr. Jones called more forcefully this time and Henry looked over. "Henry, man, you're still on the boat too. So why don't you put that away."Henry frowned at him again, swaying drunkenly, and then suddenly laughed. The tension bled away, and then all four of them were laughing loudly.Sam didn't see what happened next, the group of men obscuring his view, but one moment they were laughing and the next someone was yelling loudly,"DAMNIT!"The cry was loud and panicked, and Sam looked over just in time to see flames springing up with a roar.Henry, apparently, had dropped the still-lit lighter.All four of the men lurched back, looking horrified as the flames quickly spread, rising higher to greedily devour the gasoline that had been spread across the wooden deck."Gordon! GORDON!" Mr. Sato's cry was wild and he threw a pleading look at Sam, fighting once again against the ropes that were still holding him in place. They didn't have any time to waste, and Sam lurched to his feet with an arm wrapped protectively around his burning ribs.They were so screwed.He staggered towards Mr. Sato, but he shook his head violently. "Gordon, get Gordon! I am almost free, please," he begged desperately.There was no time for hesitation. Whatever choice Sam made, he was going to have to stick with it. The flames were spreading quickly, and Sam didn't know how long it would be until they hit the engine."Please!"Hoping against hope that Mr. Sato would be able to pull free in time—Sam had been getting close on the knots, he should be able to—Sam turned his back on Mr. Sato. Thick and vile smoke was penetrating the air, making the flames dance hazily as they steadily moved across the deck.They were already licking at the wheelhouse and eating away at the frame of the door that led below deck.Sam darted across the boat and, raising his arms to protect his face from the flames, stumbled into the small room. He almost fell down the stairs as the boat tilted drastically and only just caught himself on the wooden railing."Gordon!" he yelled, coughing on the acidic smoke that was spreading faster than the flames. He couldn't see the little boy, and his heart jumped up into his throat. They didn't have time for this, the flames would all too soon be blocking their exit, trapping them inside. "Gordon!"Something crackled and popped overhead, someone screamed, and Sam looked around even as he raised his voice. "GORDON!"The small boy's head appeared from where he had hidden under a pile of tarps. Under normal circumstances, Sam would have been impressed with his creativity but there was no time for that. Staggering over, he grabbed Gordon under the arms and hefted him up onto his hip, clutching him close.The smoke was pouring in through the doorway and Sam pushed Gordon's head into his shoulder, trying to offer some protection against it even as Gordon began to cough. He took the steps three at a time, trying to beat the fire to the open doorway.They were too late.The flames had found some of the gasoline right next to the door and they roared higher with a bang and a flash of heat that had Sam cursing and moving hurriedly back. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs with nowhere else to go and Gordon fought against Sam's hold, twisting his head free to see why they had stopped.His eyes widened, and he screamed with terror as he dug his fingers into Sam's arm.Sam raised a hand to protect their faces from the intense heat, thinking hard. They had to go up the stairs. There was nothing for it. It was either go through the flames and chance it in the ocean, or stay down here and burn to death.Gordon didn't deserve to die like that, to have his life ripped away from him.Dean would never forgive him for dying in a fire, for burning as their mother and Jess had."Hold on, I've got you, buddy, just hold on," Sam coughed out as he hefted Gordon up higher, clutching him closer to his chest and wrapping his arms protectively around him. "Don't look, it's going to be okay, just—" his words broke off, catching on a cough as smoke invaded his lungs.Without giving himself a moment to think about what he was doing, Sam ducked his head and charged through the flames.Heat licked at his body, climbing up his pants legs and greedily lapping at the gasoline there. Pain seared as the smell of burning clothes and flesh reached his nostrils but Sam blocked it out, focusing only on getting Gordon out, on getting to the ocean. Someone was screaming, who he didn't know, but Sam didn't stop.Still clutching Gordon to him, he sprinted straight for the nearest railing and threw himself over the edge.The bitterly cold water hit like a savage slap, stealing Sam's breath away as the water closed over their heads. The salt burned like fire against the cut on his head even as the actual fire spreading up his legs was put out. Unseen waves buffeted them side to side, threatening to rip Gordon from his arms. The sound of the burning boat was muffled, the screams no longer hearable through the weight of the ocean.Wrapping his arms tighter around Gordon, Sam pushed towards where he thought the surface was. Only water met his searching hand, and he had an awful moment when he thought that he had chosen wrong. Fear thrummed hard and strong through him, but then, at last, they broke through to the surface.Sam gasped air raggedly, choking both on the water and the smoke that was still in his lungs. Gordon was doing the same, his small body writhing against his.Not a moment later, the flames hit the engine, and the boat exploded with a trembling roar that sent bits of metal and fiberglass raining down from the sky. Sam threw a hand over Gordon's head and pulled him in close, trying to protect him even as the aftershock sent a wave of water over them, submerging them once more.The waves spun them around, and something heavy crashed down onto them, knocking all the air out of Sam's lungs. Shoving upwards with all the strength that he had, Sam broke through the water, bringing Gordon with him.Gordon immediately began to cough, trying to scream something out that Sam couldn't understand, but the water rushed over them, silencing him. Sam once again fought his way to the surface, gagging and coughing."Otochan! Otochan!" Gordon cried out weakly as soon as he cleared his lungs.Sam pulled in a shaky breath. "I've got you," he panted, trying to offer comfort in any way that he could. He could hear faint voices coming from elsewhere, but even with the light that the flames provided from the rapidly sinking boat, he couldn't see anyone else. He could only guess that the others, if they had made it, had jumped over on the other side of the boat, meaning that they were separated by the burning hulk.Sam couldn't worry about them right now. There was nothing he could do, and he needed to worry about Gordon, about finding something that they could use as a floatation device, about keeping them alive.Kicking them away from the wreckage to get them out of the way of any other explosion that might happen, Sam pointed them toward the faint lights of civilization that were shining in the distance."No!" Gordon writhed in his arms, attempting to push himself free and kicking out hard at Sam. His foot caught Sam hard in the knee. For a moment, they both went under again."Stop! Gordon, stop!" Sam insisted once they had risen to the surface again and wrapped both arms around him, bringing him in close. "Stop, shh, you're okay. You're okay." He hugged Gordon closer, trying to subdue him. Gordon continued to struggle, his fingernails digging into Sam's arms and shoulders. "Hey, hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay," Sam continued to murmur, allowing Gordon to work out his fear until his energy waned and he went limp, his chest heaving up and down against Sam's arm.Sam relaxed his hold a little, treading water despite the pain in his legs.The boat was still on the surface, but it was lopsided and the now dying fire cast an eerie glow across the otherwise black ocean. Sam watched it with horrified fascination.One man's lifetime of work, destroyed in less than ten minutes.Gordon let out a sob, and Sam automatically wrapped his arms tighter around him.He hoped that Mr. Sato had made it off the boat, that would not have been a pleasant way to die."We're going to be okay," Sam repeated, "C'mon, we've got to swim in this direction. I won't let go of you." He shifted Gordon, trying to find a more comfortable position. Gordon tipped his head back, looking up at him. His young face was reflected by the flames, and Sam could see both the tear tracks and the terror there."We're going to drown," Gordon whispered, but Sam immediately shook his head even as he began to propel them forward."No, we're not. We're going to be just fine. We just…we need to keep moving, swim towards land."Sam had no clue if that was the best move or not, but it was the only one he could think of to take.He did know that he was lying about being fine. Their chances didn't look exactly good. The water was frigid, and he could already feel Gordon beginning to shake with cold. He was starting to tremble as well, the cold eating away at his strength even as it numbed the pain.It would drain his energy, and then their bodies would shut down and they would drown. They were running out of time.Even as Sam swam towards land, he knew that it would be useless. They were ten miles out, they wouldn't make it in time.This was a death sentence.Or, at least it would be if Sam didn't have a personal connection with an angel whom he didn't need a radio or phone to talk with."We'll just keep swimming, and we'll be alright," Sam said firmly, invoking every ounce of hope into his voice that he could, and Gordon nodded. His legs began to kick against Sam's as he attempted to swim, trying to help in any way that he could.Closing his eyes, Sam offered up a fervent prayer. He didn't know if it was his most heartfelt—those he saved for when Dean was dead or dying—but it was pretty damn close. Gordon's life was in his hands, and possibly Mr. Sato's.They wouldn't have been in that boat if it wasn't for Sam, he had gotten them into this mess, and he would get them out.When he finished, Sam took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.He would keep praying, but it was up to Cas and Dean now.All the same, it was going to take them a while to locate them, so until then Sam needed to be smart. First things first, he needed to find something to help them stay afloat. He began to swim with his hand outstretched, searching.Despite that, he flinched back when his free hand came into contact with something. It was soft and felt very much like a human body. Sam twisted to the side in an effort to make sure that Gordon did not see. The kid was already going to be scarred for life, no reason to add to the trauma.There was no movement from the body, and he couldn't find a pulse when he located an arm. Whomever they were, they were dead.Feeling sick to his stomach, Sam pushed away and kept moving.The next thing that his searching fingers found was a chunk of fiberglass. It wasn't as large as he was hoping for, but it would work for the moment and he wrapped his arm over the edge of it, allowing it to support their weight.Gordon dropped his head back against Sam's chest, and Sam could feel how he was attempting to conceal tears."We're going to be okay," Sam repeated stubbornly. Gordon didn't respond, not that Sam blamed him.They were royally screwed, no matter what he said.Silently offering up another prayer, Sam clutched tighter to both Gordon and their little raft.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Dean yawned drowsily as he shifted, burrowing deeper into the bed. He wasn't paying much attention to the TV anymore. His eyes were heavy, and he was struggling to keep them open.Man, he was getting old. Sam would have a field day if he were here. It wasn't ten yet, and he was falling asleep…but Sam wasn't here and what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Searching blindly for a pillow, he stuffed it under his cheek. He would call Sam if he wasn't back by…ten-thirty, see what was taking him so long.Surely his little nerd conference couldn't last much longer.Someone screamed on the screen, and Dean opened one eye to see Cas lean in closer, a quizzical look on his face. "I don't understand," he said and Dean huffed as he closed his eyes again, folding his arms across his chest."You never do, man. Keep watching, they'll probably explain it in the next scene."Cas was silent for another minute, before saying, "You humans do have a strange fascination with dinosaurs. You would indeed try and bring them back to life if you could."Dean grinned. "Yeah, that'd be awesome."Cas shook his head. "You would hunt them, and learn to hate them.""Wow, way to ruin a happy thought." Dean scrunched up the pillow into a more comfortable position and squinted at the screen, trying to remember what happened next. It had been a while since he had marathoned all the Jurassic Park movies…On the opposite bed, Cas frowned, his body posture going rigid."What? Do the dinosaurs bug you that—"Cas raised a hand, his face tense. Dean immediately fell silent as he sat up, now wide awake. Unease crawled across his skin, and his heart was in his throat. That wasn't a happy look that Cas was wearing…"What?" he demanded again as Cas turned to look at him, his face grave."Sam just prayed to me. He needs our help."The urgency with which this was said was not lost on Dean, not that it was needed. He was fully focused as soon as he heard Sam's name."What did he say?" he asked stiffly, grabbing his boots from the end of the bed and shoving his feet into them.Cas looked pale, and Dean's unease increased."Sam said that they need help, that they are in the ocean, about ten miles from shore. He said that we need to hurry, that…" Cas stopped and Dean waved a hand impatiently for him to continue, even as he looked for his coat. "He said that we need to hurry because he doesn't think that they can survive for very long.""Damnit," Dean muttered, his mind whirling in a thousand different directions. What did Sam mean that he was in the ocean, and how the hell had he gotten there? He wasn't going to leave the shore, that hadn't been part of the plan. They were just going to talk, Sam wasn't supposed to go on some sort of joy ride with Mr. Sato.Had Mr. Sato jumped Sam? They didn't know anything about him, he could have lured Sam in there. He might not even be human or, if he was, he could have been working with angels, demons, or any other monster. Had he taken Sam out into the middle of the ocean and just tossed him in?"Damnit!" He repeated as he washed both hands down his face."Dean, he'll be fine. We'll find him."Cas was all-knowing in many ways, but in others, he was wildly inexperienced."Cas, he's in the ocean. That is bad in so many ways. It's November, the water is freezin', and it's not going to be easy to locate him. It's the freakin' ocean! It could be hours before we find him and by then he'll be dead. And that's if we ever find him. This is—"Suddenly the whole magnitude of what they were going up against slammed into Dean, and he felt like he had been hit over the head with a brick. He couldn't lose Sam, he couldn't. He had tried to live that life years ago after Sam had jumped into the cage and that had been hell. The mere thought of losing Sam, of having to repeat that, scared Dean to his very core."We'll find him, Dean, we will," Cas said briskly, his hand firm on Dean's shoulder. His strength and his assurance buoyed Dean up more than he would have admitted to. He straightened, nodding.They got into the Impala, and then Dean sat still for a moment, drumming his fingers against the wheel as his mind raced. They didn't have the time to spare for him to make wrong decisions. "Sam was going down to the docks to meet a man named Mr. Sato. He texted me the address, we'll start there. We can…was Sam any more specific about anything that happened? About what we could be getting into?"Cas was already shaking his head. "His prayer sounded rushed. If he was fighting for his life, it is possible that he didn't have time to tell me more, or didn't think to.""Great…" Dean spun the wheel, already pulling out his phone and glancing between it and the road. Cas was sitting tense next to him, but Dean could sense the sideways looks that he was sending him. Dean flexed his hand against the wheel."I'm not about to drive the car into the ocean. Sam's not dead yet, you'll have to wait for that to happen first," he said, smirking at his own dark humor. Cas's frown deepened."I did not say that you were going to.""No, but you were looking at me like I was going to start shooting anything that moves."Cas did not respond, which was probably wise. Dean wasn't in the mood right now.The hunt was finished, and things were good. They were supposed to be taking the night off before heading back to the bunker to find Jack and perform a perhaps pointless search for Mary. Sam fighting for his life was not part of the plan. There was nothing as torturous as knowing that Sam was in danger and not being able to do a damn thing to help him.The dock where the Ichika had been moored was empty, not that Dean had expected the boat to be there. All the same, he swore softly under his breath."There," Cas said softly next to him and Dean looked over to see him pointing at another boat nearby and the man standing next to it. He had one foot up on the wooden railing and was smoking a cigarette."Hang on," Dean muttered, turning and sprinting back to the car, scolding himself for leaving his FBI badge there. Sam needed him smart, not distracted.Returning, he shoved Cas's FBI badge into his hand and then strode forward."Hey!" he called loudly, and the man jumped. He cursed as he dropped his cigarette and began to stomp it out as Dean approached with his FBI badge already open. "We need to talk with you.""Holy sh—cow, I didn't do anything." The man was giving Dean a wide-eyed look, one that Dean knew well. The FBI didn't exactly soothe most people. They had been trained to trust them, but they didn't make most people comfortable. Dean went to flip the badge shut, but the man leaned forward holding out his hand and beckoning for him to hand it over.Dean did so, meeting the man's critical stare easily."You don't look like an FBI agent…""I was off duty until ten minutes ago, and I didn't have the luxury of getting my suit dry-cleaned and my hair done. This is an emergency," Dean snapped.The man nodded, frowning as he passed the billfold back and offered his hand. "Stanley Miller."Dean pointed behind him at the empty dock. "Have you seen anything odd to do with that boat, the Ichika tonight? Or know anything about the owner, a Mr. Sato?"Stanley bit at his lower lip, frowning. "I know Guntaro—Mr. Sato—he's a good man. But I haven't seen anything odd happening, not tonight.""Okay, anything odd at any time?"Stanley scratched at the back of his head, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "As I said, I like Guntaro. We talk when we see each other, and his kids," Stanley cracked a smile. "Man, my own kids are grown, but Guntaro's kids remind me of them when they were little. They're good kids, always happy and respectful." He paused, heaving a sigh before continuing. "I like the Satos—most people do—but there are some people who don't. They…" Stanley shook his head again. "There are some people who don't think that they belong here. Their family has been the victims of some hate crimes recently. Racial slurs on his boat, and Gordon—his son—let it slip that they had a rock tossed through their front window, stuff like that."Dean and Cas shared a look before Dean asked, "Is it typical for him to be out this late?""Well, no, not really. I docked just about ten minutes ago and Guntaro's boat was gone, which I did find a little odd. He's usually home long before dark. Likes to spend the evening with family or friends. Look, is he in trouble with the law? Because whatever it was, it wasn't him. He plays by the rules, even more so than the rest of us because he is afraid of getting sent back to Japan if he doesn't.""We're not sure yet, but we need to find him," Dean paused, looking behind Stanley. "And we are going to need your boat."Stanley, who had been shooting Cas a curious look, jerked his head around. "No. Hell, no. That's just—do you have a warrant?"Dean shook his head, frustrated. "We don't have the time for this, people's lives are at risk. Listen, we have information that Mr. Sato and others are out in the water somewhere, out in the ocean. We need to get out there and we need to find them."Stanley shook his head, fumbling for another cigarette. "Why not get the coast guard, they are equipped for things like this! You can't take my boat, man. Do you even know how to operate it?""The Coast Guard will take too long. Your boat is right here, right now. We've got to move."Stanley shoved a hand through his hair, his cigarette pack in one hand. "But have you ever operated a boat before?"Dean resisted the urge to start hitting something. "No, I haven't, but how hard can it be?""Damn hard in the dark and with no experience! That is my whole livelihood right there. What if you crash?""I'm not going to crash!""What if—" Cas broke in, stepping forward and holding his hands out placating. "What if you operate the boat? We will agree to pay for your services, and we are only going about ten miles offshore.""And who the hell is he?" Stanley gestured at the angel and Dean opened his mouth but Cas beat him to the punch."I'm another FBI agent. Here…" He fumbled the badge, and Dean winced at the clumsy movement and the lie. Despite all of his years of knowing the Winchesters, his abilities to falsify information hadn't increased."He's coming, not up for debate," Dean stepped in quickly. "So, either lend me your boat or drive it yourself. I really don't care. If you want payment, we can work out those details later but we should have left already, people are dying."Stanley thrust his hands onto his hips, and Dean could see the gears turning in his head. They didn't have time for this, Sam didn't have time. He was about two seconds away from getting on that boat with or without permission, but Stanley did have a point. It would take him a minute to figure out the controls and what he was doing. It would be better if Stanley went with them."Okay, okay, I'll take you. If people really are out in the water…it's getting close to December and you're right, they don't exactly have a long time to survive before hypothermia sets in. Ten miles…do you know in what direction? Because we still have a hell of a lot of ground to cover."Dean looked over at Cas, who shook his head. "I don't know, but we can figure that out as we go.""Right," Stanley said, and some of the panic and urgency that Dean was feeling crept into his voice as he turned, ushering them on board.Stanley began to run through the process of getting the boat up and going, and Dean leaned against the boat's railing, gripping it until his knuckles turned white.He hadn't exactly spent a lot of time on boats, and they seemed only a little better than planes. The boat rocked gently underneath his feet and Dean tightened his grip, his stomach churning nervously. He liked his feet on solid ground, thank you very much, and preferably on the gas pedal of the Impala.Cas joined him, leaning lightly against the railing, apparently as at ease on the boat as he was on dry ground. "We will find him. Sam will be okay."Cas sounded so confident, but Dean wasn't so sure. So much had been taken from him recently, why would it stop at Sam?#Sam could no longer feel Gordon trembling against him."G-Gordon?" he asked, his voice shaking as the shivers tore through him. He couldn't feel his legs anymore, or his fingers. It was all numb, the water seeping warmth, strength, and the pain from him.They had drifted away from the wreckage of the Ichika—Sam had given up on swimming about the time he lost feeling in his legs and was reserving his strength for holding onto the fiberglass and Gordon—and were headed towards land. Sam could faintly see the lights of Newport, but that was about it. Everything else was pitch black."Gordon!" Sam tried more firmly, giving the small boy nestled safely in the crook of his arm a shake. Gordon whimpered softly, but Sam shook him again. "G-Gordon! Y-you've got to s-stay awake.""Am awake," came the sleepy and quiet reply, and Sam's heart dropped. Gordon was just a kid, he wouldn't be able to survive as long as Sam. He was going to freeze to death, and Sam wasn't going to be able to do anything but hold onto yet another body.Sam's eyes burned, and it was an unexpected warmth amid the freezing water."Here…p-put this o-on." Sam began the tedious process of taking his suitcoat off. He had no clue if it would help preserve any warmth, but he had to try something. Gordon shifted in his arms, trying to help, and Sam felt relief soak into him."H-hold o-onto me, I mean, o-onto the—" What were they clinging to? The name was escaping Sam at the moment. He had tried to put Gordon onto it shortly after they had started swimming, but even his small weight had almost caused it to capsize.He had been looking for something sturdier, but at some point had given up on that as well.Gordon gripped the piece of fiberglass, and Sam began to work his jacket off with one hand, keeping the other wrapped around Gordon as best as he could with stiff fingers. Once he got it off, he switched arms and then began to work the coat around Gordon before tucking him back into his side. He locked his arm around him, determined not to let go as his other arm went back around their raft.At least it wasn't bad weather. The waves were gently lapping against them, rather than threatening to drown them, so that was something.It didn't mean that Gordon was safe. Sam needed to keep him awake, keep him talking. He needed to keep himself awake, keep them alive as long as possible while he waited for Dean."So…" Sam's brain was sluggish, and he had to stop, searching for the right words. "So…your s-sister? What's her name?" Gordon had said something about having a sister, hadn't he?Gordon was silent for a second, and Sam waited with his heart in his throat."I h-have two. My older s-sister is Amy. She's e-eleven.""Amy. That's a g-good name. Uh…tell me a-about her." Sam shifted a little closer to their makeshift raft."Amy, s-she always b-beats me at M-Mario Kart," Gordon mumbled and Sam allowed himself to relax as Gordon talked. He didn't care what Gordon said, as long as he was talking.If Sam survived this, then he and Dean should get a Wii. Play some Mario Kart. Try and get Cas to play it as well. To say that it would be amusing would be an understatement. Dean would have the time of his life…Charlie would have been over the moon with that idea if she was alive.That one still haunted Sam.Gordon had stopped talking and Sam jerked back to reality, racking his brain as he tried to think of another question. "H-how about y-you? W-what do you like?"Gordon shifted against him, but obediently started talking…something about Pokémon cards, maybe? Sam wasn't sure, but that is what it sounded like. It at least kept Gordon entertained for a while and Sam allowed his head to sink to rest partially against the raft.Ice was starting to form in his hair and the parts of his clothes that remained above the water had frozen. Gordon, Sam was sure, wasn't doing much better and he instinctively drew him closer in some vein effort to impart what little body heat he had to him.It had been a long time since he had been this cold and it was bringing up bad memories, memories of the cage and Lucifer, and…Sam felt his insides churn. He didn't want to be thinking about Lucifer, he didn't want to think about what he had done to him, what he could be doing to others. What he could be doing to Mary.The ocean was quiet, any sound muffled by the waves. It was almost peaceful…the cage had always been the most terrifying when it had been peaceful.Gordon had stopped speaking, Sam realized abruptly and jerked his head up, adrenaline clearing his thoughts. Before he could say anything, however, Gordon spoke again."Are w-we g-going to d-die?" he asked in a voice so quiet that Sam almost missed it."No. N-no, we aren't. T-there are p-people out t-there l-looking for us," Sam said as persistently as he could muster through numb lips.Gordon didn't seem to believe him, not that Sam blamed him. He didn't know—and probably wouldn't believe—that Sam could pray to an actual angel for help, that people were indeed out looking for them. Or, at least he was fairly positive that Dean and Cas were trying to find him, it wasn't like he knew for sure. That was kind of the downfall of praying. It wasn't exactly a two-way communication.What if Cas hadn't heard him? Or what if they just didn't come? What if—Sam shook his head, slightly horrified by the thoughts. The cold had to be affecting his thinking. Dean would come for him, that was a bedrock foundational truth for him. Dean always came if he needed help, he wasn't just going to let Sam drown. He wouldn't leave Sam alone.Only, hadn't that been what Dean had almost done? He didn't care that if he died Sam would be alone.No.It was he who had failed Dean, not the other way around. It was he who was not able to help his family, who had so often let them down. He hadn't been able to lift Dean out of his depression…that had been Cas. And while Sam didn't resent him that, it did hurt just a little that his efforts hadn't even made a dent. Maybe Dean would be better off with just Cas, even if he didn't realize it.Sam's stomach flip-flopped again, and he squeezed his eyes shut. He wasn't thinking straight, he needed to focus."W-we're going to be fine. Y-you just keep holding on."Gordon shook his head. "We're g-going to die. I-I'm n-never going to see A-Amy or my mom again. My d-dad is dead, isn't he? He's dead." Gordon was growing hysteric, and his voice rose above the hoarse whisper. "I-I'm…I'm going to die."Sam was sure that Gordon was crying now, his chest heaving up and down against his arm. "Shh, h-hey, it's g-going to be okay.""No, no, I'm g-going to die. I'm never g-going to get to see them again, I'm never g-going to get to see my friends again, or-or finish my book. I w-was right in the middle of it, I don't know if they f-found the treasure, or who the m-man is, and that's the whole f-freaking point and I'm never g-going to know.""Hey, hey, hey, c-calm down. It's okay." Sam hugged Gordon closer. "You're g-going to be fine, I promise. You're g-goin' to see your family again, you're g-going to finish that book." Some strength returned to Sam's voice. "You're going to live, or I am going to d-die trying to g-get you out."Gordon sniffed loudly, his voice muffled. "But I d-don't want you to d-die either! I don't want anyone to die!""Okay, n-neither of us is d-dying, I promise." Sam began to kick his legs again, more for something to do than an actual hope that it would get them anywhere. Gordon stifled another sob, and Sam found himself wishing once again for his brother's natural ability to handle kids.Casting around desperately for another distraction, Sam latched onto the first one he found. "T-those men, the one who a-attacked us on the b-boat, have they come after you b-before?"Gordon shrunk into Sam, and he immediately regretted the question, but Gordon answered him anyway. "I don't know if it w-was them, but people are s-sometimes mean to us, or say mean things, b-because we are different. B-because my dad is from Japan, and we are different from them.""I'm sorry…T-that's hard." Sam knew all too well what it was like to be different, to be considered strange, and his heart went out to the Satos. It was never easy to be different."My d-dad says that they feel t-threatened by us, that they t-think that we are going to make them c-change or take their j-jobs. That we are s-stealing from them. They threw a rock into our w-window one night and there is this one kid at school who calls me n-names. I don't like that.""I'm s-sorry," Sam repeated. "I k-know what it's like to be different. I w-wasn't the same as the other kids growing up." He had also been different from the rest of his family. Growing up, he had always been so sure that his mother would have gotten him, that she would have understood and would have been the one to put her foot down on hunting…turns out, even that wasn't true.Not that Sam cared so much about hunting now, but she was definitely more like Dean. Once again, Sam had found himself the odd one out, the black sheep of the family that had never quite fit in, at least with his parents.Dean had always loved him unconditionally and accepted him for who he was."I h-hate being d-different," Gordon spat, and for the first time that night, Sam heard the bitterness there."Yeah…but it g-gets better.""Not if we d-die here,"Sam couldn't exactly argue with that, besides repeating his now seemingly useless refrain of "You're g-going to be fine."Gordon fell darkly silent, and Sam shook him a little. "You've just g-got to keep t-talking to me, okay? That's how we are g-going to get through this. T-tell me, uh, about your favorite Pokémon."They continued to drift, Gordon's increasingly weak and quiet voice a constant hum in Sam's ears as he struggled to keep ahold of their little raft. His own body was threatening to succumb to the effects of the cold water but Sam had made a promise, and he was going to do his damn best to save Gordon.#"Oh, that can't be good."Dean's head shot up. He was standing near the back of the boat and had a death grip on the railing as he tried not to think about how his stomach was rolling queasily with each rise and drop of the boat."What? Do you see someone?" Dean demanded excitedly as he made his way carefully up to where Stanley was standing at the wheel.They had gone out about ten miles from the shore and had begun to do a careful sweep of the area, looking for anything that would indicate that they were even close to the right spot. They had been at it for about half an hour, meaning that Sam had been in the water for almost an hour.Stanley shook his head. "No, not someone, but look…down there, I think that's a part of a boat." He pointed, his voice hushed, and Dean followed his finger. Sure enough, there was a large chunk of plastic and fiberglass floating in the water about fifty yards to the side."Okay, what do we do now?" Dean asked, looking to Stanley for leadership on an ocean rescue.Stanley decreased their speed, the boat now rocking gently in the water. "Now, we start searching for bodies. We'll go in a circle, steadily branching out to cover more area," he said and Dean nodded. Cas, who had been listening to their conversation grimly strode back to his spot on the far side of the boat. Dean returned to his original position.With the engine running quietly, it was much easier to hear the waves lapping up against the boat. Dean strained both his eyes and ears, looking for anything that might resemble a body.It was only a couple of minutes later that they found the first victim."Hey!"It was a hoarse, almost nonexistent shout, but they all froze, casting anxious looks at one another."HELP! HEY! HELP ME!" The shout was louder now, exhilarated, and Dean leaped across to Cas's side, where the cry seemed to be coming from.It wasn't Sam, Dean knew that much just by the voice alone, but he scanned the water enthusiastically nonetheless. They were getting close, they had to be."There!" Cas yelled, pointing, and sure enough, a man was waving both arms at them from where he was sitting on a makeshift raft."I have a buoy ring," Stanley said breathlessly, pointing towards the orange ring hanging on the side and Dean moved to unhook it as Stanley directed the boat closer to the man."Here!" Dean yelled, motioning with the life preserver, but the man began to frantically shake his head."I can't! My leg, it's all busted up, I can't get off the raft!" The panic and fear in his voice were real, and Dean shared a look with Cas and Stanley."One of us will have to go aid him, help him get on board," Cas said."That's not…that's not ideal," Stanley jumped in, looking concerned."I'll go," Dean said decidedly. "Cas, you're not the best swimmer, and Stanley, you need to operate the damn boat." He wasn't looking forward to jumping into the no-doubt freezing water, but he began to shuck off his jacket all the same."Wait—that's not the way to do it," Stanley was looking a little frantic, apparently not used to being in these sorts of emergency-make-do-with-what-you've-got situations. "I have a wetsuit, down below deck, and we're about the same size. It should fit."Dean scoffed. "I don't need a wetsuit, I'll—""No!" Stanley was shaking his head. "You need a wetsuit if you are going in. That water is freezing and even with the suit, you're going to get cold.""Stanley is right," Cas broke in, sensing Dean's continued denial. "We do not know how many people are in the water, or how many times you are going to have to jump in."Dean turned a muted glare on Cas, but he just gave him a knowing look, and Dean had to admit that maybe he had a point. He also reminded himself that there was little chance of any women seeing him in the wetsuit, so what was he even worried about?As he was changing in the semi-privacy below deck, though, he was struck by the thought that Sam was never going to let him live this down and would bring it up at the most opportune moment to annoy Dean. Probably when he was trying to pick someone up.Not that he cared, not as long as Sam was alive to tease him.
Please, let Sam live to tease him.
The wetsuit was harder to get on than Dean had anticipated—Stanley may have been around his same size, but Dean was still taller—and when he finally yanked the zipper up, it was with no small degree of irritation.He pointed a finger in Cas's face as he emerged on deck again, his face flushing, and dared him to say anything. Cas wisely did not, and Dean turned his attention to the rescue.Taking the buoy, he strode to the metal ladder."You're going to have to help me get him up," he warned Cas, who nodded.Taking a deep breath, Dean jumped.Even with the wetsuit—as Stanley had predicted—the cold stole Dean's breath away, and he came up spluttering seawater and shivering. The man looked desperately at him, his face pained and pale, with ice forming in his hair. Dean struck out, tugging the life preserver along with him."Thank God, thank God, thank God," the man was muttering when Dean reached him, almost crying with relief as Dean grabbed ahold of the makeshift raft."What's your name?" Dean questioned calmly as he began to help maneuver the man closer to the edge."Fred, m-my n-name is Fred Jones," he stuttered out in a voice shaking with cold and Dean nodded, leaning in closer to get a look at Fred's leg. It was nasty. Part of his shin bone was protruding out at an odd angle, and Dean was amazed that he had even been able to get up on the raft.He might have been alright if it was just his leg, but it wasn't. His whole left side from his shoulder to his thigh was badly burnt, the skin almost black in places where it peeked out from ruined clothing."Well, that's not great," Dean said bluntly. Fred's eyes widened and Dean's tone softened. "Look, we're going to get you to a hospital, it's all going to be just fine."Dean didn't know if that was true, but he wrapped his arms around Fred's shoulders, pulling him forward and stalwartly ignoring his whimpers. He shouldn't be moving him, but what other choice did they have?"Okay, we're going into the water in three, two—"Fred slid into the water with a grunt and then a scream. His eyes rolled at the jarring movement, and his body went limp against Dean's. Dean smacked his cheek lightly. "Hey…no passing out. We've still got to get you on board, you need to hold on."Fred didn't respond, but he did blink his eyes open.Dean positioned his arms around the orange buoy and then began to tow him back towards the ladder. He attempted to keep Fred's leg as still as possible, but by the time that their short swim was over, he was deathly pale and shaking.Cas leaned down from where he was crouching on the deck and grabbed Fred under the armpits as Dean pushed underneath. Together, they managed to get him up and onto the boat."Let's put him below deck," Cas said decidedly over the other man's pained moans. "It will be warmer down there, and Stanley says that he has some blankets."Dean nodded, allowing Cas to take the lead. Cas grabbed Fred's legs carefully, avoiding the injuries as much as possible, and together they carried him, gasping and groaning, below deck.There were a couple of benches there, and they laid him down on one as gently as they could. The boat began to move again, and Dean cautiously leaned one hand against the wall in case of any abrupt turns."I don't—I don't feel so good…" Fred muttered. His face was a pasty white, and sweat was forming across his skin."Yeah, no joke." Dean took a breath and let go of the wall. "We've got to get your clothes off—or at least what's left of it—and stop the hypothermia while we still can. We'll cut your pants off as best as possible and then splint your leg. It'll be fine," Dean said, looking over at Cas with the silent question of if he could handle this.Cas nodded. "You go assist in looking for other survivors.""Yeah, just one second." He turned to face Fred, crouching down so that they were looking eye to eye. "What happened out there? Do you know where any of the others are?"Fred looked away, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter…""Doesn't matter?" Dean's tone hardened, and a strong dislike for Fred began to grow in him. "It sure as hell matters! If there are other people out there, then we need to know so answer the damn question."Fred paused, before saying stubbornly, "There was three total, not counting me."He was lying, Dean was sure of it and his anger grew as he leaned in closer. "Do everybody a favor, and don't do that. Don't lie to me. I'm a Federal Agent, and I'm here looking for my partner, who I happen to know was on that boat. If anything happened to him, and you had something to do with it, then you are going to regret the day that you were born."Fred went even whiter and for a moment Dean thought that he was going to pass out. Fred looked around desperately at Cas, who was also giving him a stony look, and then turned terrified eyes back to Dean. "I won't say anything else till I've seen my lawyer," he stammered out.Dean's hands balled up into fists. "What happened to Sam?" he insisted impatiently."First, I want to speak to my lawyer. I'm not saying anything else until then.""I don't care about any damn lawyers. What happened?" Dean's hand flew out, wrapping just below the puncture wound and adding pressure.Fred's face screwed up, his eyes watering, but he still managed to pant out, "Lawyer!""No."To Dean's surprise, it was Cas who stepped in, grabbing Fred by the hair and yanking his head back."We are not like other cops, we are not here to play nice," he growled, and Fred's mouth gaped open like a fish."I can't—I had—we had to…" and then his eyes rolled back in his head, and he went limp."Damnit," Dean muttered, straightening as he scrubbed a hand through his hair and blew out a long sigh. "We've got at least three more men out there, probably Sam and Mr. Sato as well. This…this isn't good."Cas sighed, before saying, "You must continue the search. I will care for this man if I can. I wish to ensure that he lives to see whatever justice he deserves."Dean threw a disgusted look down at the unconscious man, before starting up the stairs."Hey! Hey! Get up here! Quick!" Stanley's cry had Dean taking the remaining stairs two at a time, Cas following shortly behind, Fred momentarily forgotten. Stanley was cutting the engine, his face pale and his eyes wide. His hand was shaking when he pointed out into the water and Dean lunged to look over the railing.The sight of a body floating face down in the water didn't bother him as much as it probably should have. For one, the body was too short and stocky to be Sam and that was all that he really cared about at the moment."I'll get it," he said, unperturbed."It's a body—that's a body…someone died," Stanley said, his voice pitched higher than normal."Yes, but bodies aren't anything to be afraid of. You will all be one at some point," Cas said in an attempt to soothe, patting Stanley's arm.Dean rolled his eyes, already making for the ladder. Grabbing the buoy, he dropped back into the ocean. He was more prepared for the cold this time, but the body was heavy and it took more effort to get it back on board.Once Dean made it back on deck, he rolled the body over.The man's face had been horribly disfigured by burns and they all looked away. Stanley staggered to the side of the boat and threw up over the railing."Is that Mr. Sato?" Dean asked once Stanley had returned."No. I don't think so, but I can't…" Stanley didn't appear to be able to look at the body for more than a few seconds at a time and he finally shook his head, moving away.Dean turned to look at Cas. "C'mon, we'll put him down below as well."Once the body was situated downstairs, Dean draped the man's jacket over his face respectfully before turning to look at Fred.Fred was lying where they had left him, but there was something wrong. The air was entering his lungs in a wheezing rattle, and he was jerking oddly.Cas pressed a hand to Fred's forehead and then hesitated, glancing over at the body."One person is already dead, I should heal him," he said in an undertone to Dean. "He is in shock, amongst other things. He may survive the trip back, and he may not."Dean made a face. "Don't take this the wrong way, man, but you don't have the power that you used to. What if you heal him, and don't have the juice to save someone else? He's a douchebag."Dean swore that if this man lived and Sam died…Cas didn't say anything, he didn't have to. Dean knew that he was right."Fine. Fine, but only what you have to, alright? Just enough so that he lives."Cas nodded solemnly and Dean returned to his post.Ten minutes later, they came across the still-smoking wreckage of the boat. There were no more bodies—at least that they could find—and after some heavy debate, Stanley managed to veto Dean's desire to search the boat. It looked unstable and, as Dean had to keep reminding himself, Sam had said he was in the water, not that he was on the boat.Still, the decision not to search it left Dean feeling anxious and he found himself pacing in a tight line along the railing, gazing desperately down at the water as if it would magically produce his brother, whole and unmarred.That was a fool's dream, and he knew it.After only a handful of minutes in the water, he was shivering badly. Sam had been in the water for over an hour now, at the very least. He was going to be battling severe hypothermia. Who knew what other injuries Sam had sustained on top of that?Stanley continued to guide the boat in an ever-expanding circle, looking for the other four men at a speed that felt more like a crawl than anything.They located the next survivor on the third trip around the Ichika when a faint cry caught their attention and Dean rushed to the side of the boat. "SAM?" he yelled out, his hope getting the better of him. This had to be him. It had to be."Help! Help!"Dean's heart dropped. The voice was too deep to be Sam's and he braced himself for the crushing disappointment.Stanley directed the boat over to where a man was half lying on a piece of wood. He appeared to be just barely conscious, and he was clearly losing his grip, his body slipping further into the water even as they neared.Dean didn't wait for the boat to come to a complete stop before jumping in. He swam over, just catching ahold of the man's shirt before he slid completely off the raft."Hey, I've gotcha. Hold on," Dean directed, hoisting the man up higher and starting to backstroke."Gordon. Gordon, I've…" he muttered deliriously, and Dean hitched him higher up against his chest, electing a low groan."I'm here to help," Dean repeated as he swung them around as they reached the boat. Stanley was diligently waiting to assist, but at the sight of the man, a look of shock crossed his face."Guntaro…" he said in a low, pained, voice. He reached down and under Mr. Sato's armpits, ready to help pull him from the water. As they lifted, he let out a scream, and they immediately froze."Easy, Stanley, we've got to keep him steady," Dean said after an uncertain moment. It didn't matter how gently they lifted, the man continued to cry out, and Dean could feel something thicker and warmer than the water seeping over his hands.Stanley closed his eyes, looking pained himself, but kept pulling.Now that Mr. Sato was mostly out of the water, there was no mistaking the thick blood coating his arms and side. Stanley stared dumbly at it but helped keep Mr. Sato as still as possible as they maneuvered him down below.In the light provided there, it became clear that Mr. Sato was also bleeding badly from a deep cut on his head and his shoulder. The real issue presented itself, however, when they lifted his shirt and found dark bruising and rigidity across his belly. He was bleeding internally.Stanley took several steps back, both hands pressed over his face and his breathing heavy."Go back up and look for more survivors. We'll take care of him," Dean said firmly, not turning to look at Stanley as he added pressure, trying to staunch the flow of blood from Mr. Sato's head."But, that's a lot of blood, that's, he needs a doctor, we've got to—""Uh, he's a doctor, don't worry," Dean lied, jerking his head at Cas.Cas looked up very seriously. "Yes. I am a doctor. Also an FBI agent."Stanley didn't look convinced, but he also didn't look like he could stomach being in the room much longer, and after a brief hesitation went back up the stairs."Gordon…" Mr. Sato moaned and Dean leaned down."Okay. It's okay, we're getting you help, you're going to be alright," he said more gently. Mr. Sato's eyes flickered open, staring glassily up at him."Gordon, you must help him." His eyes slid shut again, only to pop open a moment later. "Sam. Sam Winchester, needs help also," he ground out dazedly.Dean's stomach dropped and he lurched forward. "Mr. Sato, do you know where Sam is?" he asked urgently. Mr. Sato's brow furrowed in pain and he weakly raised a hand before it flopped back down."Sam Winchester, Gordon…I don't know, they jumped." His voice broke into a soft sob, his face bleached of all color.Cas moved forward gravely and pressed a hand against Mr. Sato's chest. He looked sideways at Dean. "He is grievously injured, but it is not above what I can fix." With that, he moved his hand to hover over Mr. Sato's belly, a soft glow emanating from him.When he raised his hand, the skin was fresh and unmarred. Mr. Sato slumped back against the bench, unconscious or asleep Dean didn't know.Cas staggered back, looking worn, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I didn't heal him completely, I fear that my grace may be needed again before the night is over...""Probably smart." Dean stood, reaching to grab another blanket and spreading it over Mr. Sato. There was only one left, they were going to have to start getting creative if there were still three people out in the water. But that was a concern for later when the problem presented itself.Cas sank down to sit on the bench, still pinching the bridge of his nose."You okay?" Dean shot him a concerned look even as he applied a hasty field bandage to the still bleeding cut on Mr. Sato's head."Yes. It's just…my grace is not what it used to be." There was a hint of longing there, and Dean nodded uncomfortably. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he would rather have Cas like this than as an all-powerful, unfeeling, angel."I will finish that." Cas pulled himself upright, shaking off the weakness and holding out his hand for the bandages.Nodding gratefully at Cas, Dean rejoined Stanley at the head of the boat, who was still looking like he might puke."Mr. Sato will be alright, he is being tended to.""This isn't right. He has a wife and kids. What are they going to do if he dies? He's my friend. I don't—it shouldn't be this way."Dean sighed as he stared out over the water, he didn't have anything to offer in regards to the unfairness of life, but it would be cruel to let Stanley go on thinking that his friend was going to die. "He's going to be okay. Cas knows what he's doing."Stanley didn't respond, and neither of them broke the resulting silence.Dean leaned against the railing as he watched the cold, dark, ocean slip past. He was trying not to think about Sam just as he was sure that Stanley was trying hard not to think about Mr. Sato, but he wasn't succeeding.What was he going to do if they found his little brother's body floating in the water?#Gordon was no longer talking to Sam. Not that it mattered because Sam didn't have the energy or willpower to talk either.He felt empty. Numb. Cold.The cold had stolen everything from him, even the ability to shiver. The only thing that he could get his brain to focus on was holding onto the raft, and onto Gordon.But even that was getting harder to do. He couldn't even feel his hands anymore, and he was just…he was so tired.He was so tired of everything. Of saving the world, of being unable to help those he loved, of watching people around him die, of being the reason that they were dead…of being the failure of the family, of being the one left alive. Of the weight and responsibility that he shouldered.Sam was so tired. He just wanted…he didn't know what he wanted, but it was getting harder and harder to hold onto that raft. Letting go and drifting off didn't sound all that bad. He would be done. It would all be over, and he could sleep.He just wanted to sleep.But he couldn't. That was the one thing he knew for sure because he was still holding onto Gordon. He had to save Gordon, fix this one last mistake.As soon as Gordon was safe, though, he was done. One last life saved. He would be able to let go. Perhaps, in some small way, it could help atone for the other mistakes that Sam had made in his life. Had the people he'd saved over the years made up for the ones that he'd accidentally gotten killed?It was too hard to place judgment, not when his brain felt like pudding.All that mattered was that Gordon was alive. He was going to save this little boy. He had to.The water lapped up against Sam's chest, and he struggled to hoist Gordon higher. He couldn't tell if he had managed it or not, his arms felt like dead weights that he didn't have any control over.His eyes were heavy, threatening to close on their own.No, he couldn't sleep. He had to help Jack—Gordon—he had to help Gordon. And Jack, also Mary. But that was looking more and more like it wouldn't be his concern for long. Cas and Dean would help them, Sam could let go. Jack didn't need him anymore, he had Cas and Dean would save Mary.As for Dean…He had Cas. It wouldn't be easy, but Cas had been able to pull him out of his depression when Sam hadn't been able to do anything. He had just been one more thing to worry about, one more burden.It was fine for him to let go. Sam could let go, he could relax…His brain was making a good argument.Maybe it would even be a good thing for everyone, not just him. Maybe it was a chance for Dean to move on, to let go of this life. The world wasn't immediately ending, he could do that. He could move on, live a normal life, the one Sam knew that Dean longed for, even if he would never admit to it.His brain was making a damn good argument.The water was lapping at Sam's face and lips, and the shock of salt had him gasping and spluttering. Reflexively jerking himself upright, Sam coughed weakly in an attempt to get the water out of his lungs. His hand slipped from their little raft as he tried to tug Gordon up above the surface and he only just grabbed hold before they were both pulled into the vast ocean.Gordon didn't react to the accidental dunking, still and silent against him.That didn't matter. He was still alive. Just sleeping.Sam gently shifted him higher up, doing his best to keep him out of the water as much as he could but all too soon both of them were sinking again.The soft chugging of an engine sparked something in Sam's sluggish brain, and he raised his head, twisting to look over his shoulder.Through the darkness of the night, he could see the outline of what looked to be a fishing boat, and it was coming toward them.Energy surged through Sam and he found himself clutching to the fiberglass with a strength that had left him before."Hey!" He had meant for it to come out as a shout, but instead, it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper. Clearing his throat, he tried again, but with no better results. Terror coursed through Sam. There was no way that whoever was on that boat had heard him, not over the engine and the ocean. Sam could hardly hear himself.They were going to go right past them, they were going to leave them behind to drown."Hey! Over here, we're…" Sam jerked his limbs, trying to swim, trying to turn them around and bring them into view of the boat. Gordon was dead weight against him, neither helping nor hindering his efforts.The boat was too far away to hear them when it changed course slightly, turning away from them.It wasn't coming for them."No, come back, please!" Dread was making Sam feel more aware than he had been for the past hour. "Help!" he croaked again, still vainly kicking his legs, trying to bring them within reach of aid.The boat kept going, and soon it would be out of his sight. Tears sprung up in Sam's eyes, and the warmth burned his skin. No, no, no, no…Defeat slumped his shoulders and he dropped his head. Closing his eyes, he did what he had been doing for years when he had no other alternative. He prayed.Castiel, I don't know if that was you on that boat, but if it was, you need to turn around, you passed us, we need to help, we're going to die, please help us! He found himself thinking, words tumbling dizzyingly through his head as emotion clogged the thought process. The prayer was on repeat, Sam unable to stop the desperate plea.Nothing was happening, the boat was still moving in the wrong direction.They were going to die. That had been their last hope.No sooner had he thought this than the boat made an abrupt turn, swinging around to once again face them.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The ocean was a dark void that seemed to stretch on forever, and Dean leaned against the ship's railing, his heart in his throat.Sam was out there, somewhere, and the emotions that were bubbling up—the fear, the anger, and everything in between—were not pleasant. His stomach was knotted up painfully tight, and there seemed to be a constant lump in his throat.Rubbing both hands down his face, Dean closed his eyes for just a moment, breathed deeply, and opened them again to squint into the black waters.They would find Sam. It would all be fine.Stanley was expertly guiding the boat in ever-widening circles when Cas suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs, his eyes frantic."Go back, turn around, turn around!" he cried, moving excitedly to the other end of the boat. Dean's heart leaped painfully in his chest as he followed his friend, straining to see what Cas had. No sooner had Dean reached him, however, than Cas was moving with a huff of impatience towards the left-hand side of the boat. He stared out into the endless ocean, before jabbing a finger out towards the dark water. "There!" he exclaimed, and Dean squinted.He couldn't see anything, but Cas rounded impatiently on Stanley."Turn the boat around!"The order was needless, Stanley was already in the process of guiding the boat into a smooth turn.Then Dean saw it, and his heart soared.Sam—because Dean would know his brother anywhere—was clinging to a piece of fiberglass that was acting as a makeshift raft.The flare of bright excitement was swallowed up just as quickly as it had come by terror.Sam wasn't moving, and he didn't look up at the approach of the boat. He was limp, more than likely either unconscious or dead.Was he too late? Had he failed Sam for the last time?"SAM!" he yelled, cupping both hands around his mouth to carry the sound, but Sam still didn't move, didn't look, and Dean's stomach squirmed."He's alive, Dean," Cas said in an understanding undertone, easily reading the fear on his face. "He prayed to me, told me to turn around. He's alive."Dean looked back out at his brother as the boat neared him, and the relief that came from Cas's words about bowled him over. If he hadn't been raised by John Winchester, he might have broken down crying right then and there. Sam was alive, they could still save him. Nodding blindly, Dean sniffed once and took a deep breath.Now was not a time for weakness, it was a time for action.There was a cry of pain from down below and Cas jerked around, looking grim, before looking back at Dean. "I dare not leave the injured alone. They will need my help. Can you get to Sam without me?""Yeah, that's fine. Come if I call, though."Cas nodded solemnly and left.Stanley cut the engine when they were floating alongside Sam, and Dean crossed to the ladder, his eyes fixed on his brother.Sam still hadn't moved or shown any sign of life.The cry came again from downstairs, and Stanley hesitated, looking pained."I'm going to go check on Guntaro, I think that's him, I can help," he said hesitantly and Dean nodded distractedly, his full attention on Sam.#The relief was disarming in its magnitude and Sam dropped his head back down, letting it rest on the fiberglass.The boat was coming back for them. Cas had heard his prayer and was on that boat. And if Cas was there, then it meant that Dean was as well. They were coming to save them, everything would be fine.That consolation was making Sam lax, and he allowed himself to sink further into the water's cold embrace. He didn't have to hold on like his life depended on it, they were being rescued."Help's coming," Sam told Gordon, bringing him in a little closer.Gordon did not respond.That didn't matter. He was still alive, just sleeping. Sam didn't blame him for that, he wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and let go as well. As soon as Dean got to them, as soon as they were safe on that boat…The chugging of the boat was growing louder, and the waves caused by it were increasing, washing over him and Gordon. He tried to turn them, to keep their faces out of the water but he gave up before he managed it. It was too much effort, he could hardly move anymore as it was.He could hear excited voices and thought that he could hear his name being yelled.That was good.The engine stilled and then fell silent.Sam hoped that Mr. Sato had survived. He didn't really care about the others, but he liked Mr. Sato. It would be a shame for Gordon to live through this, only for him to come back to a fatherless home. Losing a parent hurt as little else did, Sam should know."SAM!" Definitely his name this time, and Sam hummed out a response. There was an excitement in the air now, Sam could feel it."Sam?" Dean sounded closer and slightly out of breath. Sam didn't know how far Dean had had to swim to reach them, he felt slightly bad about that. He hadn't meant for Dean to have to enter the water. "Sammy, you hearing me?"Dean sounded scared and Sam tried to raise his head, but it felt like it weighed a ton and he gave up. It didn't matter, because a moment later a warm arm wrapped around Sam's waist, tugging him, Gordon, and their little raft closer.Sam mumbled an answer, his body wilting against Dean's. They had made it. They were safe now. He could let go.Dean's breathing was loud and harsh in his ears as his hand crept first across his face and then down to his neck, feeling for a pulse. "Sammy, say somethin'."Sam licked his lips, tasted salt, and tried to get his mouth to work. "Gordon," the word felt foreign, his tongue struggling to wrap correctly around the syllables. He was so tired… "Dean, you've…" Sam felt his frustration mounting at his inability to communicate, and his continued failure to get Gordon the help that he needed.He let go of the raft attempting to get a better grip on Gordon, or to pass him off to Dean, he wasn't sure which. Dean grunted, his arm clenching painfully around Sam's middle as he slipped in his grasp."Damnit, dude, I wasn't—"Sam panicked at the feel of the encroaching water and shoved Gordon towards Dean's much firmer hold, but he had misjudged his timing, and he could feel Gordons slipping through his arm and into the black void of the ocean."No!"Dean swore loudly, releasing Sam as he lunged to catch Gordon, and then it was him that was going under the water. He floundered, trying to fight his way back to the surface, but his body had long ago stopped obeying his commands.Sam shouldn't have worried. A vicelike grip fastened around his collar, pulling taunt against his throat, and then he was breaking through the waves.He gasped, trying to breathe around the pressure on his throat, and then that was gone as well as Dean's hand moved down to knot more firmly in his shirt."Sam, hey, easy. You're good, you're safe, I've gotcha," Dean tugged him back to rest against his own shoulder, his arm now wrapped tightly around Sam's chest. The pain in Sam's broken ribs flared hot and bright at the pressure and he stiffened, trying to ride it out."Sorry, sorry, hold on," Dean shifted a little, trying to let up on the pressure while still keeping a firm hold on him."G-Gordon?" Sam coughed out in a wrecked voice.Dean snorted and said in what sounded like exasperation. "I've got him, but a bit of warning before you threw him at me would have been nice."Sam twisted his head, trying to see for himself that the little boy was safe, and Dean grunted, trying to match Sam's movements. Gordon, who was still wrapped in Sam's suit jacket, was indeed snug against Dean's chest.Sam wilted, all the fight leaving him."Stop moving around, Sam," Dean ordered sharply, and his fingers were digging painfully into Sam's chest again as he tried to keep a firm hold on them both.Sam did as his brother requested, allowing Dean to manipulate him and Gordon around, trying to find a position that would ensure both their safety and his ability to swim.Right. Dean would need at least one arm free."I—get him. I'll…" Sam waited for the rest of his words to come, but they didn't. Dean seemed to understand him just fine, regardless."Shut up. You already let go of your floatation device and tried to drown yourself, which was an outstanding idea for someone who thinks that they're so smart, by the way, so no. I'm not leaving you in the water by yourself. Not a chance.""No," Sam protested. "Gordon needs out. He's cold."Dean was silent behind him, and a chill worse than the elements pierced Sam's heart."No.""Sammy…"Dean's voice was too soft, too gentle. He was handling Sam like he was about to break, like he did when he was about to tell him something bad, and that could only mean—but no, Sam refused to acknowledge that.It was impossible."He's not dead," he snapped, his refusal bringing strength to his voice as he shifted, reaching for Gordon once again. He would show Dean, he would make him see that Gordon was alive, that Gordon wasn't dead."Sammy, hey, no, don't do that! Stay still, man!" Dean was stronger than Sam, and he pinned his arms to the side even as his voice took on a sharp and commanding note, one that reminded Sam of their father.But Dean didn't get it. Gordon was alive, Sam had saved Gordon."He's alive."Dean's voice was back to being overly gentle when he spoke again. "Here, help me hold on to Gordon. I need to get you back to the boat."He gently passed Gordon back over to Sam, and Sam numbly forced his stiff arms to wrap around the boy. Gordon's skin was ice-cold. He wasn't moving or protesting the manhandling.Dean's arm moved up to cross over Sam's so that he had a solid grip on both of them and then he began to tow them back towards the boat.Their little raft drifted away, bobbing up and down on the water.Sam felt like he had left his heart with it.Gordon…Gordon wasn't alive.Gordon was dead. Dean was right.Gordon had died, and Sam hadn't even noticed, he hadn't offered any comfort as he passed. He had been clinging to a lifeless corpse—he still was—for an unknown amount of time."Easy, Sam, easy, easy. I've gotcha, you don't have to do anything, you just lay there. I've got it." Dean's voice came as if from far away and it was all wrong. The truth hit Sam all over again.Gordon was dead.He had failed in this one last rescue mission.He couldn't—he hadn't even been able to save a little boy. He let his head roll back against Dean's shoulder, his whole body going limp.Sam couldn't keep doing this, he couldn't keep watching people die. He was so tired…Dean's arm shifted, tightening around Sam's chest as the water tugged at him, trying to pull him away.Sam was too numb to even cry, although he was sure that the tears would come later. Later, because he had one. Because yet again, he was walking away unscathed when someone else did not.Gordon's chest moved—barely—underneath Sam's arm and for a brief moment Sam felt a flash of hope but it died as quickly as it had come. It was just a wave, or Dean's movements jostling them.Gordon was dead, there was no way he could be breathing.Dean stiffened behind him, his breath catching in sudden excitement."He's not dead. Sam, he's not—I felt him breathe, just now, I swear."Sam didn't believe Dean. Now that he was focused on it, he could feel how still Gordon was, how cold and stiff…Dean was just trying to make him feel better.Gordon was dead.Dean had picked up the pace, and he was panting hard in Sam's ear, his legs tangling with Sam as he kicked.They bumped up against the edge of something—the boat?—and then Dean was wrestling Gordon from his hold.Sam slipped again, and he had just enough time to wonder if he had failed Dean one too many times, and if this was it, if Dean was just about to let him drown before his brother was dragging him back up by the arm."Sam, stay with me here, focus."Dean was saying it desperately like he had already tried to get his attention.Sam shook his head, trying to clear it as his brother looped his arm around the step of what felt like a plastic ladder, allowing it to support his weight. Dean tugged Sam's other arm up as well, winding it through and crisscrossing his hands at the wrist. Gordon was gone from his hold, cradled now in Dean's arms.Dean's free hand came up, gripping Sam's chin hard and forcing him to look him in the eyes."I'll be right back. I don't know where the hell Stanley got off to, but I can't get both of you up at once, and Gordon needs help. But you have to promise me that you won't let go. You've got to hold on," he growled, and Sam let his head droop forward. Dean yanked his face back up, his eyes boring intensely into his. "Swear it to me, Sam, that you aren't going to let go."Sam nodded blindly, and Dean's fingers dug painfully into his face, before releasing. "I'll be right back, I swear, just one more minute, then I'm getting you out."And then Dean was gone.Sam was alone again.His weight was suspended by his elbows as he hung there, not making a move to try and get himself out of the water. He felt numb. Cold. Empty.It was painful to remain in that position, and Sam allowed himself to slip down, hanging by his wrists now instead of his elbows. It relieved the pressure, but the new position allowed water to lap up against his face.He was tired... but Dean had said that he would be right back. He had sworn that he would hold on, hadn't he? Or had that been some sort of figment of his imagination?At the very least he had imagined Dean telling him that Gordon was alive. He was just believing what he wanted to believe, he wasn't facing reality. Like with Mom. Dean was right. She was dead and they would never have the chance to get to know each other.He had failed her, just like he had Gordon. If he had just researched faster and a little harder…Sam's left hand wasn't working, it didn't want to grasp the ladder, and Sam didn't fight it, now only holding on with one hand.Did he even want to hold on, or was that his brain conjuring up situations as well?He didn't.Right then, right there, it all seemed like too much. The weight of everything—his responsibilities, of life, of even holding onto that ladder—bore down him. He couldn't do it, not alone. Not without Dean. It was all too much.He just wanted to rest, to be done. To be free.Sam's other hand slipped as he let go, and his body sunk into the water.The ocean closed over his head softly, and Sam embraced it willingly, closing his eyes.He was free. Free from responsibility, free from the crushing burdens and duties, free from everything.It was blissful.It was also terrifying.The sudden realization of what he had just done hit Sam hard, and his eyes flew open.Dean. He still had Dean—his brother hadn't left him, not yet—and Cas. And Jack. He still had people he loved, who loved him, he couldn't do this—he hadn't had enough time with them, it would never be enough, he had to fight.Sam began to thrash, struggling against the weight of the ocean, but his limbs were weak and did little against the powerful walls of water. His lungs were burning for want of air and he twisted, fighting to push himself upwards but there was nothing he could do, the water was unmovable. He continued to sink, the pitch-black water swallowing him up.Sam's best efforts were not good enough, there was nothing that he could do.Dean was going to be livid. He had told him to hold on, Sam had promised to hold on… he had failed Dean.Black spots were dancing in front of Sam's eyes, his chest was aching with the desperate need for oxygen. There was none to be found, not even when Sam opened his mouth, a dying reflex to pull in air. Salt water flooded into his lungs, choking him and making him gag. Sam writhed, fighting against the awful pressure that was crushing him.He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't—It didn't matter how many times death came for Sam. There was still a part of him that both welcomed it like an old friend and a part of him that felt the utter terror of it.His last thought was that Dean was never going to forgive him for this, and then Sam went limp, his body drifting along with the current.#The panic that had been threatening to engulf Dean all night was at an all-time high as he treaded water with Sam and the boy—Gordon—wrapped protectively against his chest.Stanley wasn't on the deck, he hadn't come when Dean had called him, and that meant that he must still be helping down below. Why had Dean so readily allowed that? If it had just been Sam it would have been fine, but it wasn't and he was going to have to leave Sam alone if he wanted to save Gordon. The boy needed help immediately, his chances of survival were already close to nonexistent.They wouldn't exist if Dean didn't have an angel in the bag."STANLEY!" He yelled again even as he ducked his head, trying to gauge Sam's level of responsiveness. Sam wasn't paying him any attention, his body limp in Dean's arms…but Gordon wouldn't survive much longer, and Sam clearly cared about him. Hell, he had all but given up once Dean had told him that he was dead.To be fair, Dean had been sure that Gordon was dead when Sam had tried to hand him over. His skin had been bleached of all color and warmth, and Dean hadn't been able to detect a pulse, nor feel him breathing, not at first. It had been pure chance that he had had his hand in the right place to feel him take in a shallow breath as it was.He could be dead now, that breath a final act of desperation.There was nothing for it, if he wanted Gordon to even have a chance, he was going to have to leave Sam behind, just for a moment."Sonofabitch."Gently disentangling Gordon from Sam's grip, he began to manipulate Sam's arms around the ladder. It would be just a minute—if that—and then he would be back for Sam.It would be fine, Sam was tough after all, Dean tried to tell himself in an effort to absolve his anxiety.It wasn't working.Staring into Sam's glassy eyes, he forced a promise from him that he would hold on until Dean returned, and then he was pulling himself and Gordon out of the water and up the ladder.Reaching the deck, Dean glanced once behind him to make sure that Sam was right where he had left him before darting for the stairs."CAS!"He rounded the corner, taking the stairs two at a time.He barreled into the small room, shouting for Cas again. Cas and Stanley turned at his yell from where they were bending over Mr. Sato. Dean didn't know what the issue was, he didn't really care if he was being honest.Not when Sam was still in the water.Stanley let out a gasp as he caught sight of Dean, eyes widening with what could only be horror."Gordon!" He reached for Gordon, but Dean pushed past him, heading straight for Cas."Cas, you've got to help him" Dean panted, holding out Gordon who was still bundled up in Sam's suit jacket. "He's alive, I swear, he's alive, or at least I think he is. But he won't be for long. You've got to help him."Cas was staring at the deathly pale little boy and then threw a wary glance back at Stanley who was now hovering over Dean's shoulder."Dean, my…grace is dangerously low tonight. I may not have enough…" he said in a low whisper."Cas, for Sam, you've got to try. He's…" Dean didn't know how to quickly explain that Sam had stopped fighting once he thought Gordon was dead, how much this mattered to Sam. "Please, help him."Not taking no for an answer, Dean forced Gordon into Cas's arms. "Sam's still in the water, I've got to get him out. He's okay for the most part, use what you can on Gordon, okay?"Cas nodded in understanding and carefully cradled Gordon close to his chest. Sinking down to sit on the floor, he bent over the boy.Dean didn't hang around to see Cas's powers at work.Tapping Stanley's arm on the way past, he jerked his head towards the deck. Stanley tore his gaze away from Gordon, looking shell-shocked."I didn't know that Gordon was out there," he said, looking ill. Dean felt the same. If they had known a kid was out there…it wouldn't have changed anything. They had done the best that they could with what they had, but that acknowledgment wasn't stopping the guilt.It was up to Cas now to save him.Dean's responsibility was to focus on Sam. He hadn't been lying to Cas—he would never do that with Sam's life—Sam seemed mostly okay. He was awake and talking. The hypothermia had taken its toll, leaving him confused and sluggish but they could fix that.He would fix that.Stanley followed him, casting worried looks behind him.Reaching the ladder, Dean fixed a smile on, already preparing to comfort Sam, to reinforce the notion that Gordon was alive because he wasn't sure that Sam had believed him before.Only, Sam wasn't there.Dean's heart stopped, his stomach plummeting so fast that he felt like he was going to throw up.He had been gone for a minute—at most—but the ladder was empty. Sam was nowhere in sight.Why had Dean been such an idiot? How could he have just left him there? Sam hadn't been thinking straight and—Horror sucked the warmth from his veins.Sam was in the water, Sam was under the water, Sam was drowning, his little brother who Dean had just left—Dean didn't pause to think or heed Stanley's "Wait!" he just jumped.The ocean closed over his head, and Dean opened his eyes, searching for Sam. The salt water stung them, but that didn't bother him in the slightest. What did was that he couldn't see a damn thing in the pitch-black water.Pushing himself back to the surface, Dean gasped in air, looking wildly around."Hold on, wait just a second!" Stanley was yelling urgently down at him from where he was half-hanging off the deck, and Dean shook his head."Sam's drowning!" he rasped out, but Stanley was already gone. Dean shook his head, slapping at the water. All his instincts were telling him to just dive under again, to find Sam and bring him back to the surface…but Stanley probably knew what he was doing, and Dean couldn't risk Sam's life by ignoring him.Stanley was back a moment later, brandishing something Dean couldn't see that well in the dark."Waterproof flashlight," he called out, and Dean held up both hands. Stanley hesitated. "Don't miss!" He tossed it out to him, and Dean lunged to catch it. He almost missed, his chilled fingers fumbling it, but he caught it at the last second.A powerful beam cut across the ocean when he turned it on.Pulling in as deep of a breath as he could, Dean dove under the waves once more.The light cut through the darkness that had seemed so impenetrable moments before and Dean waited just a moment to see what way the current was pulling him in before he began to swim in powerful strokes downwards. The ocean muffled all sound, but Dean could still hear the frantic pounding of his own heart in his ears.Swinging the light around, Dean searched for any sign of his brother. Sam couldn't have drifted that far, right? The ocean was massive, though, he might not even be looking in the right direction. If he didn't find Sam soon...The dark thoughts weren't helping, but Dean didn't know how to push them away.Gripping the flashlight tighter, he continued to search for Sam. His lungs were starting to grow tight; he couldn't stay down here for much longer without air.The beam of the flashlight cut across a flash of red.Dean's heart leaped and he dragged the flashlight in that direction.There, now fully illuminated by the light, Dean saw the red tie that was floating eerily above a mop of dark hair.Sam.His heart beat faster with relief and Dean propelled himself forward with new determination and strength. His lungs were starting to ache now, but there was no way in hell that he was going to turn back, not when he had Sam in his sights, not when Sam was so close.Keeping the light trained on his brother, Dean purposefully ignored how Sam's eyes were closed, his body lazily drifting as he made no move to save his own life.Stretching out his fingers, Dean scrambled to grab a hold of any part of Sam. Winding his hands through his hair, he tugged Sam up enough so that he could wrap an arm around his chest. As soon as he was secure, Dean shoved them both upwards.Sam was a dead weight in his arms, his limbs flopping uselessly against Dean's. That didn't mean anything, they could still save him. CPR, Cas…it didn't matter. They were going to save Sam.Dean wouldn't—couldn't—accept anything else.Black stops were starting to dance in front of Dean's eyes, his body begging for relief, for air, and he clawed at the water, kicking as hard as he could. Sam's head lolled back to rest against Dean's chest, and Dean's heart constricted from more than just a lack of air.He wasn't going to fail Sam, he couldn't live without Sam, not this way, not like this—his body was demanding and desperate. He needed oxygen.They were so close to the surface, they could make it, they just had to keep going. Dean's lungs were not to be denied, and he gasped air reflexively, allowing a stream of water into his mouth and nose, choking him.Then his fingers were breaking through the surface and he was pulling both of them up into the chilly night.Gasping air in, he gagged on the water already in his lungs and began to cough violently as his body tried to rid itself of the vile salt water in any way that it could. Sam, on the other hand, didn't make a sound. Dean dragged Sam up further, letting his head fall back to rest high against his shoulder so that he had clear access to air.His lungs finally satisfied, Dean pulled in a ragged gasp and twisted trying to gain his bearings. They were now on the other side of the boat and had drifted a good twenty or so feet away.Sam hadn't taken a breath, hadn't started choking on the water in his lungs."Sam, c'mon, breathe—" Dean jostled his brother roughly, waiting for that intake of air, for Sam to wake up, for his body to do what it had been doing since birth.Nothing happened. Sam remained still.Any sort of relief that Dean had felt upon finding Sam and reaching the surface was rapidly dissolving, transforming instead into something akin to horror.Sam needed help, needed CPR…Ignoring his protesting muscles and his still-aching lungs, Dean hiked Sam's limp body further up against him and kicked back hard."C'mon, Sam. Don't do this to me, breathe, man," he muttered for Sam's ears alone. Sam didn't respond, his chest still against Dean's arm. Dean blinked back the tears that were threatening.The boat was within hearing distance now, and he twisted his head to the side, yelling as loudly as he could, "STANLEY!"Dean needn't have worried this time, Stanley was watching for them and a moment later he appeared at the railing, looking anxious."Bring him towards the ladder."Dean nodded, forcing his legs to work faster and harder as he rounded the boat, coming towards the ladder.Stanley had moved around as well and was waiting for them, half leaning over the edge in his eagerness to assist."Here." Dean grabbed ahold of the ladder with his free hand and spun them around so that Sam was at a better angle. Stanley reached down, digging his hands underneath Sam's armpits. Grunting, Dean got a shoulder under Sam and thrust him higher. Stanley cursed softly as he pulled at the dead weight and Dean gritted his teeth, shoving hard.Dean started climbing before Sam's knees had cleared the edge of the boat and watched with muted terror as Stanley began to straighten Sam's long body out across the deck. His brother's skin was bleached white, his blue lips accentuating the stark differences. His dark hair was a tangled mess across his face, but he didn't make a move to push it out of his eyes.He's not breathing," Dean panted out as he dropped down hard to kneel next to his brother. "He's not—""Make sure," Stanley ordered sharply even as Dean dug his fingers into the opening between buttons on Sam's shirt and ripped it open, sending the small white buttons flying.Dean placed a shaking hand on Sam's bare chest and bent over him, letting his cheek rest near Sam's mouth, waiting.No air escaped Sam's lips, nor did his chest move. When he dropped his other hand down to Sam's neck, no pulse met his fingertips.Sam was dead."Get Cas!" Dean directed urgently as he titled Sam's head back, preparing to initiate rescue breathing. He didn't wait to see if Stanley had followed his orders or not as he bent low, sealing his lips around Sam's cold ones, and breathed for him.He turned his head, watching Sam's chest rise successfully, and gave another breath.Rising onto his knees, Dean laced his fingers together and began to perform chest compressions. Something crunched undesirably in Sam's chest, but Dean didn't stop."Sammy, you don't get to do this," he ground out in rhythm with the compressions. "You don't get to die, not now, not like this, not after everything." But Sam didn't respond, his body pliant and limp under Dean's ministrations.Finishing the thirty chest compressions, Dean glanced over his shoulder, wondering where the hell Cas was. Sam needed him, he needed Sam, if Sam died…Dean gave the two rescue breaths, and stopped, checking for a pulse.Nothing.Returning to chest compressions, Dean felt his eyes start to burn as his vision blurred. Not Sam. Never Sam."CAS! CAS! WE NEED YOU!"He finished his third round of rescue breathing and prepared to start chest compressions again, but his arms were throbbing in protest of the exertion, his energy waning. He wasn't sure how much longer he could continue to give proper CPR, but there wasn't any other option.Footsteps sounded behind him and hope flared."Cas—"Only, it wasn't the angel, it was Stanley coming to kneel on Sam's other side. "I'll do the compressions," he ordered and Dean promptly slid over."Where's Cas?" he demanded as Stanley began to perform CPR. Sam was deathly still, his body jerking oddly under the pressure being applied. Dean's hope was fading by the moment. Sam wasn't coming back, not with CPR."He said to tell you," Stanley began, his voice harsh between each thrust, "that he was coming, that he was trying to save Gordon.""Damnit," Dean wiped an arm over his brow, his stomach rolling hard. Sam wasn't responding to treatment…what if a reaper already had his soul?"Sammy, I know that you can hear me, so you get your ass into gear and you stop this. Don't you dare leave me," he snarled, his hands curling over Sam's shoulders possessively as he waited for Stanley to finish the round of compressions.As soon as he did, Dean leaned over and breathed for his brother once again, watching closely to ensure that Sam's chest rose and fell with each one.Cas's shoes appeared in his peripheral vision a moment before his hand dropped down heavily to rest on Dean's shoulder. "Go look after Gordon and the others, we will be right down," he directed Stanley in a weary voice.Stanley rose obediently as Dean turned his gaze pleadingly up at Cas. Cas looked exhausted and pale."Gordon's alive, but it took more out of me than I thought it would," he said slightly unsteadily. Dean's face screwed up and he fought against the burning sensation in his eyes."It's Sam, Cas, I—""Just be prepared. I will do all that I can, but it won't be enough to return him to perfect health.""Just bring him back, please, we'll figure the rest of it out," Dean begged and Cas shot him a curious look."Sam is my friend, too, Dean," he said pointedly, before he pressed two fingers to Sam's forehead, his eyes glowing blue. Dean felt like he couldn't breathe as well.He reached down blindly and found Sam's wrist. Clenching it tightly, he waited.The light in Cas's eyes faded and then Sam's back was arching off the deck as he drew in a rasping, wheezing, breath. His eyes snapped open, and Cas removed his fingers.Cas slumped back, looking ill, and a thin trail of blood began to leak from his nose but Dean didn't have eyes for anyone but Sam. Sam, who was alive, who was choking and retching but breathing."Hey, easy, easy, Sammy, I've gotcha…" Dean rolled Sam over onto his left side and into a recovery position and then held him down gently as he attempted to lurch upright, gagging hard on the water that was still in his lungs. "Get it out. C'mon, man, you're fine."Water spewed out of Sam's mouth and onto the deck, and he groaned softly in between the heaves. Dean readjusted, bracing him with an arm around Sam's chest. Sam responded by reaching back, his hand wrapping weakly around Dean's arm."Dean," he rasped out in between his body's battle to heave, cough, and breathe all at once."I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, so you just focus on breathing. It will get easier in just a moment, just breathe through it." That seemed like pretty dumb advice, but Dean didn't know what else to offer. He shifted his hand up to rest on the crown of Sam's head, drawing him back to rest against him and closing his eyes.He had almost lost him.Sam was shaking hard in his arms and Dean tightened his grip, rocking back and forth until Sam began to calm. He retched feebly one last time and then slumped weakly against Dean with a low moan."That's it. See, easy-peasy," Dean said with a grin that he almost felt. Sam swallowed thickly, still panting hard.Cas grunted softly next to him, and Dean looked over. "You alright?"Cas took a minute to respond. He had sunk back against the railing and was looking pale. Blood was still flowing sluggishly from under his nose and Dean's concern ratcheted up a notch."Yes, I think. I just…""Dude, seriously. You gonna be okay?"Cas's 'yes' was stronger and more reassuring this time. "I just need to rest and regain my strength.""Right. But no more healing. I'm benching you," Dean said firmly and Cas nodded wiping at his nose with his wrist. It was a mark of how tired Cas had to be feeling that he didn't even ask what Dean could possibly mean by benching him.Sam shifted, drawing Dean's attention back to him immediately."Hey, stay still," Dean began, pressing Sam back down as he blinked tiredly and tentatively braced a hand against the deck in an effort to push up."Gotta…" Sam trailed off, looking unsure and Dean frowned. Sam's whole body was trembling, and his lips were still faintly blue. Ice was reforming across his hair and clothing, they needed to get him warmed up before hypothermia took away what the ocean almost had."You don't have anything to do. You just sit there and look pretty, alright? I'll take care of everything." Dean absently smoothed back Sam's hair, looking around for anything that he could use to cover Sam with, but he was still wearing the wetsuit and that wouldn't exactly do much good. He settled for rubbing his hands vigorously up and down Sam's arms, trying to generate warmth.They needed to get Sam downstairs.Sam coughed faintly—the air wheezing in and out of his lungs— as his hand went to his chest with a pained grimace.Dean hugged him closer. "You think you can stand?""Dunno," Sam mumbled, his head drooping even as Dean's lips drew together into a thin line. He'd take that for a 'no' then. He turned to Cas, repeating the same question. Cas nodded, however, and gripped the handrail tightly to pull himself upright.Dean was relatively surprised when Cas didn't tumble back down and only swayed a little."I will get Stanley to assist with Sam," Cas said, holding fast to the edge of the railing as he began to make his way downstairs. Dean watched him carefully and fought against the urge to get up and steady Cas for himself.Instead, he clutched his brother closer and let his chin rest on Sam's head. Sam didn't say anything or make any move to push Dean off. He didn't look like he could do anything but lay there.Stanley appeared.His mouth dropped open at finding Sam not only breathing but conscious, but Dean ignored it. Let him come to what conclusions he would. If he asked, Dean would tell him but he wasn't going to bring it up otherwise."Help me get him downstairs. I don't think he can walk right now."Sam stirred, humming a faint protest to that, but Stanley and Dean ignored him. Dean wrapped both arms firmly around Sam's chest, tucking him against his own. Stanley lifted under Sam's knees on the count of three and they began to back towards the stairs."I can walk," Sam mumbled, rolling his head back against Dean to look up at him."Sure you can."Sam was lighter than Dean had been expecting, and he made the mental note to watch what his brother was eating. Leave Sam to his own devices with food, and Dean was sometimes afraid that he would waste away into nothing.All the bench space had been taken up, and Dean motioned with his head towards where Cas was sitting against the bench that housed Mr. Sato, who appeared to have finally given into a peaceful sleep now that he had Gordon tucked up against him."Gentle—gentle with him, he's hurt," Dean snapped protectively as they began to lower Sam down onto the floor next to the angel and Stanley slowed down, mimicking Dean's actions. They got Sam settled with his head resting on Cas's lap. The angel wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, and Dean wasn't about to make Sam lay completely on the dirty, wet, floor.It was bad enough that he was on it at all.Straightening, Dean strode over to where he had tossed his clothes earlier and returned with his jacket."Here, we need to get him out of his wet clothes, get him warmed up," Dean said, starting to remove what remained of Sam's shirt. Deep, dark, bruises had formed across Sam's chest and sides, and Dean slowed his movements, eyeing them critically. He hadn't noticed them earlier, to focus on saving Sam, but those weren't from CPR.Someone had beaten his brother tonight, and Dean had his suspicions on whom.Fred was still unconscious and didn't stir despite Dean's dark glare.Cas took the jacket from him. "Go, I'll take care of Sam."Dean shook his head, reigning his anger back in.Sam was more prudish than anyone he knew; he wouldn't want just anybody undressing him. Not that Cas was just anybody, but still…"Go," Cas said more emphatically if tiredly. "I will look after Sam, but there are still others out there and they will need help."Dean's jaw clenched even as he took his jacket back, spreading it over Sam's chest and tucking it in as tightly as they could. They were out of blankets, Gordon had the last one wrapped around his thin shoulders. Sam was just going to have to make do with what they had.Cas was right. He needed to go help locate the others so that they could get back to dry land. Sam needed more supplies and medical attention than they had here.He didn't want to leave Sam, though."You still with me?" Dean asked, tilting Sam's chin up. His eyes were glassy and it took a long moment for him to respond."Still here."Sam's voice was wrecked and Dean winced internally. He tucked the jacket in tighter, taking in Sam's awful complexion, before cupping the side of his face."I'll be back soon, okay?"Sam stiffened as his hand shot out, wrapping tightly around Dean's arm. "No." The word was no more than a whisper, and Sam seemed to regret it the moment it was out. His fingers contracted convulsively once before he forced himself to let go.The reaction was odd enough that it made Dean blink and he shared a look with Cas even as he settled lower so that Sam could see him better."What's going on, buddy?" It had been years since he had called him that, but Sam was acting strange tonight, and if it helped…well, anything for Sam.Sam tried to take a deep breath and winced, his face screwing up. "Just…don't want to be alone. Can't do it alone," he admitted.Dean smoothed back Sam's hair, saying as he did so, "I know that you don't feel super hot right now, but—""No. I don't want…" Sam trailed off again and Dean ducked his head, trying to look into Sam's eyes, but they were sinking shut."Go, Dean. I will watch him, and he won't be alone," Cas said empathetically but not unkindly. Dean hesitated. It wasn't often that Sam asked for things, especially something like that, and everything in him screamed that he needed to honor that request. "Go. The sooner you help locate the other men, the sooner you can Sam the medical attention that he still needs."Dean made a face but nodded even as he patted Sam's chest lightly—one last reminder that Dean was there—and then stood. Squeezing Cas's shoulder once, he returned to the helm to watch the dark waters with Stanley.It was another twenty minutes of silence before they came across a large chunk of floating wood. Resting on it were two men. One man—Donnie, he said his name was when Dean swam out to assist—looked to be relatively unharmed besides the hypothermia and a badly burned arm.The other was dead.Yet another rescue is too late.Dean helped Donnie aboard, before going back to retrieve the body. Stanley helped him get it on board and downstairs, where they placed it respectfully next to the other body.So that was it. There was no one else out there to rescue.Dean straightened, preparing to head straight for Sam but before he could do so, Stanley stepped in front of him, stopping him."Is that everyone?" he asked in a low voice, watching as Donnie settled next to Fred, shivering, and sending paranoid looks in Sam's direction."Should be.""Okay." Stanley looked relieved even as he eyed the bodies out of the corner of his eye. "I'll take us back to the docks, and radio it in so that we have an ambulance waiting.""Yeah, if you could, that would be great. Thank you."Dean didn't wait for Stanley to make his way back up the stairs before making a beeline for Sam.While he had been gone, Cas had taken off his trench coat and draped it over his brother as a makeshift blanket. Dean's jacket had also been shifted and was now bunched awkwardly over Sam's head to keep what little body heat he had from escaping.Dean thought that Sam was asleep, but he stirred at his approach, his eyes fluttering open and searching restlessly until they found him. He gave him a long look, and his lips twitched upwards into a hesitant smile before he closed his eyes again.Cas also looked up at his approach. "Sam has been mostly sleeping, his body is still weak," he informed Dean without preamble."Well, that's good. Sleep is always helpful. Also, we are headed for land," Dean told Cas in a low tone as he settled in next to them, his hand finding Sam's pulse point. His heartbeat was slow and sluggish, something to keep an eye on.It was infinitely better than nothing, however.Dean shivered, and it wasn't from the cold.Cas was watching him critically. "You should change if you are done going in and out of the water.""I will in a second. How about you, how are you doing?" Dean looked intently into Cas's still-pale face. His nose wasn't bleeding anymore, so that was something, but he didn't look great either."I am fine," Cas said stubbornly, and Dean didn't push him on it. There would be time for that later. "Now change, before we reach land."Dean rolled his eyes. "You're bossy, did you know that?"Sam hummed something that could have been considered a laugh and Dean smiled even as he pulled himself back onto his feet.Gathering up his clothes, Dean turned his back on the others and swiftly changed. His clothes were warm compared to the wetsuit and he was more than grateful to put them back on.Rolling the sleeves of his flannel down, he surveyed the room.It was a disaster. Two people were dead, and only a few of the others could be considered to be in good shape, despite Cas's best efforts."Can I have some water?" Donnie asked with a croak as they made eye contact and Dean cast a regretful look towards where Sam and Cas were sitting. Sam's eyes were slit open, watching him, and Dean smiled at him before he began to move around the little room, looking in all the little nooks and crannies for supplies. He finally found some bottled water in a small cupboard above his head. He gave one to Donnie and left an extra for Fred if he woke up before they got back to land.There was a rustling from Sam's corner and Dean looked around to see Cas pressing Sam back down with a hand on his chest."But…I've got…I've got to help Dean," he heard Sam mumble."Dean's fine. He's got this under control. It is you that we are worried about," Cas said firmly in response."No, no, I've…" Sam trailed off again, quieting and Dean watched them warily for a second before continuing to move amongst the survivors.Mr. Sato was still deeply unconscious, and Dean lifted the blanket just enough to check on him. Cas had fixed the internal bleeding and his stomach no longer looked like he had swallowed a basketball. The burns on his skin still looked fresh and painful. More than likely, he would have those scars for the rest of his life but he would live, and that was something.Gordon was curled up against his father and looked ten times better than when Dean had last seen him. In fact, he almost looked to just be sleeping as he breathed slowly and steadily and most of the color had returned to his skin.Hell, he looked better than Mr. Sato. Cas clearly hadn't held back when it came to healing him, just as Dean had asked. And it had almost cost Sam his life, but that too was Dean's fault. Not Cas's."Dean?"It was Sam's weak voice again, and Dean turned in time to see Sam once again sluggishly trying to stand."Sam, he's fine, he's right there," Cas tried again, pointing at Dean.Dean couldn't ignore that and, after grabbing another water bottle, crossed back over to Sam's side. Cas tossed him an apologetic look, but Dean just shook his head. He had been taking care of Sam since before he could remember and he didn't expect anyone else to take that job on."Hey there, dude." He dropped down to sit cross-legged next to Sam and pressed the back of his hand against his forehead to gauge his temperature. There wasn't any improvement from before, Sam was still far too cold.Sam closed his eyes, wilting back against the floor, apparently satisfied now that Dean was in close proximity.Dean knew how that felt, and smiled. "You want some water? I bet you just had a year's worth of salt, which has to taste just as good as ass."Sam scrunched up his nose in response and Dean rolled his eyes as broke the seal and unscrewed the lid. "He's always been a bit whiny about what he ingests. Delicate stomach," he said to Cas, but both Cas and Sam seemed too tired for the humor.Slipping a hand under Sam's head, he tilted it upwards and helped him to swallow a couple of mouthfuls of water. Sam grimaced, and Dean knew how he felt. He was going to be tasting the ocean for weeks to come, or at least until he got ahold of a toothbrush.He took a couple of swigs himself and then offered it to Cas.As the angel gratefully drank, Dean shifted to sit with his back against the bench. Sam didn't even open his eyes again as he rolled his head to rest against Dean's thigh instead of Cas's. In return, Dean dropped his hand to rest on the back of Sam's neck, massaging lightly.Dean thought for sure that Sam had once again drifted off until his eyes suddenly flashed open and his relaxed posture became stiff. He shook a hand free from under the trench coat and grabbed Dean's arm. His fingers were icy, which was saying something considering that Dean wasn't exactly warm himself."I can—" Sam looked around, blinking rapidly. "I can help, Dean, you don't—I've—""There's nothing to do, Sam. It's all good, stand down.""Oh. Oh, okay. Are you sure? I thought…" Sam's eyes were closing again, the utter exhaustion he had to be experiencing clinging to him."Yeah, I'm sure. You were just dreaming."Sam heaved a sigh and began to cough roughly on the end. The fit lasted longer than Dean liked, and he worriedly chewed on his lower lip. There was a distinct wheeze to Sam's breathing now, and it was shallower than it should have been."Let's get him back over on his side, maybe that will help.""I'm sorry, I should have done more," Cas said in a small voice as together they rolled Sam back into recovery position. Sam's eyes fluttered open long enough to see what they were doing and then shut again.Dean immediately shook his head. "He's alive," he said emphatically, but Cas still looked troubled."He is not well.""Yeah, I mean, his breathing isn't great and hypothermia isn't exactly a lap dance, but…he's alive, man. And anything else we can deal with, either at the hospital or when you get all juiced up again."It wasn't thanks to Dean that Sam was alive. He'd practically pushed Sam into Death's greedy grasp. He had just left Sam alone in the water…left him to the mercy of the elements and his own weakness.Cas also didn't look appeased, but that was the Winchester motto to feel guilty about things that you had no control over.Dean sat back a little, one hand on Sam's shoulder, the other bracing against the rocking boat just in case it made any abrupt turns. Cas also sat back, tilting his head against the bench. Sam was the only one not relaxing as they returned to shore. His eyes would open every few minutes, find Dean and Cas, and then close again.After the fourth repetition, Cas spoke up. "He's looking for you."Dean frowned, watching Sam with his head cocked to the side. It wasn't that Cas was wrong. Sam was searching him out each time and with clear intent, but it wasn't completely for Sam's own comfort. It also wasn't as if Sam was scared. Or, if he was, that it wasn't about his own current situation. No…Dean suspected that Sam was stressed and worried about him. His brother had been keeping an eye out for him—hell, he had sicced Cas on him only earlier that evening—had been making sure that Dean was alright and coping, and was still doing so, even if he was a little confused about why.The warmth of fondness and love for Sam, the only person that Dean was truly able to count on and trust, washed over him."He's just watching our backs. Sam's good at that," he said quietly. Cas titled his head thoughtfully to the side, regarding Sam for a moment."I think you're right," he said.Dean smiled as he looked down at his brother, keeping up the gentle massage. The smile wilted a little; Sam was still trembling badly and was about as pale as a ghost.All in all, Dean was more than relieved when Stanley shouted down a few minutes later that they were approaching the harbor.Carefully lowering Sam's head back to rest on Cas's lap, he strode back up to the deck to see if there was anything that he could do to help. He felt Sam's eyes on him and turned to flash his brother a small smile that he wasn't sure Sam saw.Stanley was backing his boat back into the correct position with a look of concentration on his face. Waiting for them at the dock were two ambulances and four paramedics.Dean made a face at the sight. This was going to be hard to explain…but that could wait until Sam and the others were taken care of. That was the priority, everything else they would figure out as it came.Crossing his arms over his chest, Dean waited for Stanley to finish docking so that he could guide the paramedics below deck.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The paramedics wasted no time hurrying on board once Stanley had docked the boat. After showing them below deck, Dean stood back a moment as they converged on the injured.There were now more than ten people—counting the bodies—down below and the already small space was becoming almost claustrophobic. Stanley inched past him and back up the stairs with a grim look and a jerk of his head to indicate that Dean should follow. Dean shook his head but stayed out of the way until things calmed down a little.Cas had stood—Sam's head was now resting on Dean's bundled-up jacket—and was directing the paramedics towards those who needed immediate attention.One of the paramedics was kneeling next to Sam, talking quietly to him. Another paramedic was talking to Mr. Sato and Gordon. Dean waited another couple of minutes before easing his way through the crowd and coming to hover over Sam as the paramedic—Jenny, according to her nametag—slipped an oxygen mask over his face.She looked up briefly at Dean's approach. "This must be your partner then, right, agent?" she asked cheerfully. Sam opened his eyes and smiled."Yeah, that's my brother—partner—partner, that's my fellow agent," he said, his voice slow and thick. Stanley must have explained what had happened while he was calling in the ambulances, or at least what he knew of the story. Come to think of it, Dean probably didn't know much more than him about what had happened that night."He's going to be okay, right?"Jenny didn't look up at him as she finished fastening a blood pressure cuff around Sam's arm. She began to pump it up, and Sam's face tightened a little. He never had liked getting his blood pressure taken. Jenny slowly loosened the cuff, silently reading the numbers on the dial.She wasn't frowning, so that had to be good. She glanced up at Dean, making eye contact. "We will have to wait for a more complete examination, but he's stable, and that's a start.""Did Cas tell you that…" he gestured at Sam and Jenny raised an eyebrow."I was informed that he almost drowned and that CPR was performed if that was what you mean?""Right.""I can't do much about that. At the moment, we are making sure that he is stable for transportation and is not in immediate distress. We'll let the ER doctors know and they'll take it from there."He nodded, watching carefully as she began to break some chemical heating packets open, tucking them strategically under the mylar blanket that had been draped over Sam.Sam's eyes opened again, watching the proceedings through a hazy disconnect. Jenny must have seen Dean's frown because she said reassuringly, "Hypothermia often causes confusion and disorientation. Also, your partner has been through quite the traumatic experience tonight, so it's understandable, isn't it, Sam?"Dean stifled a snort. Sam had been through intensely traumatic experiences, he doubted that this would even cross the top twenty.Jenny stood. "I'll be right back, I'm going to see where we are at and when we can move out of here," she said and Dean nodded, easing into her place right next to Sam."He looks better." Cas had reappeared at Dean's side, his trench coat back on."I was just thinking the same thing. His color is better, at least," Dean said, laying a hand against Sam's cheek. His breath was fogging up the oxygen mask, his breathing easier with the additional help that it provided. He seemed to be resting more peacefully as well, or at least he hadn't opened his eyes in the last few minutes.The four paramedics had converged in a small huddle in the middle of the room and were talking softly but urgently. When they broke up, Jenny returned to their side."We don't have enough space to take everyone in one trip, but those who are in the most critical condition will receive first access. That includes your partner, so I'm going to go ahead and get him prepped."Dean nodded, and reluctantly returned to the sidelines with Cas when she requested space.They got Sam up and on the stretcher and then began to wheel him out. Dean followed them off the boat, watching as they loaded him into one of the waiting ambulances.The other set of paramedics returned with Donnie, loading him easily in next to Sam. Dean eyed him distastefully—he didn't know for a fact that he and Fred had anything to do with what had happened, but all the evidence pointed towards them—but didn't say anything. Jenny jumped down, turning to face them."We're taking them to Samaritan Pacific Community Hospital, but you are going to have to meet us there.""Yeah, of course. We'll be right behind you.""Alright, then we're out."Dean watched the doors of the ambulance close, hiding Sam from view."C'mon." Dean began to walk away and Cas followed, heading back towards the Impala. Mr. Sato and Fred were being loaded into the second ambulance, while one of the paramedics stayed below with Gordon. Stanley had also returned to sit with and watch over him."This isn't going to be easy to explain," Cas said in a low voice as they reached the car."We will worry about it when and if the cops start asking questions. At least we look like we have some sort of authority. Trust me, we've been in worst situations." Dean unlocked the Impala, and they both got in."Still…it would do well for us to leave before we draw too much attention to ourselves," Cas said seriously and Dean nodded, watching as the ambulance pulled away."Yeah, that's probably smart. We'll see what the doctors have to say, but once you're good to go, then we can break Sam out. Again, this isn't the worst situation that I've ever been in. This isn't near as bad as last year when we were locked up for who knows how long."That had been bad. That wasn't something that Dean talked about, not really, not with anyone but Sam. No one understood what it had been like but Sam…that was true for so much.He had almost lost his greatest confidante tonight, the one person he truly felt like he could talk to about anything, even if he didn't always choose to.All because he had strayed from Sam's side.Pulling away from the curb, he followed the ambulance down the street.#The waiting room was mostly empty when Dean and Cas arrived.That changed over the next hour as family members were notified of the accident and began to pour in. Most of them were middle-aged women—wives and girlfriends, Dean guessed—although a couple of them had brought their children in as well. The mood grew noticeably dour and moody as each new member arrived, and Cas and Dean didn't try and talk with them or explain.Cas still looked tired and pale, and Dean was feeling anxious again.Shouldn't someone have come to get them by now?At last, he left to get them both cups of coffee—they were likely to be horrible, but at least it would be hot—just to give himself something to do.Dean was returning when he caught sight of a doctor approaching Cas with her hands in her pockets. Cursing, Dean hurried over."Hi, hello," he said awkwardly before Cas could say anything. The doctor looked over at him, quickly changing her focus."You must be Agent Plant," she said, holding out her hand. Dean hurriedly thrust both cups of coffee at Cas so that he could give his full attention to the doctor and then shook her hand, appreciating her firm grasp. "And your…" she turned to look at Cas, but he just blinked at her and didn't elaborate."He's with me," Dean cut in quickly.She didn't question it. "I'm Doctor Garcia, and I'm the one who has been treating your partner.""And how is he? Is he doing okay?"Dean's heart was thudding in his chest, his breath catching.Dr. Garcia didn't answer immediately, rather pulling up a chair to face them, and Dean quickly dropped down to sit on his own, trying to keep his hands from shaking too much."Look, Agent Page went through quite the ordeal this evening. Considering everything—how long he was in the water, the CPR, etc.—he is actually doing remarkably well. Much, much, better than I would have guessed if I had simply heard his experience and not triaged him myself. It's amazing that he is even alive and that he doesn't seem to have suffered any brain damage.""But…?" Dean interjected hesitantly."But," Dr. Garcia said with what looked like a sad smile. "We are still concerned, particularly about his oxygen levels. They are lower than I would like to see, even though we are giving him extra oxygen. Part of this is probably due to the pulmonary collusions that we've found. Basically, it means that his lungs are bruised.""That…that doesn't sound terrible."Sam had had more than his fair share of bruises throughout his life, bruising was something that Dean could deal with."Here…" Dr. Garcia opened the folder that she was holding, pulling out an x-ray. "We took the liberty of going ahead with x-rays, just to be on the safe side. As you can see here, two of his ribs on the right side are broken, probably from the blunt force trauma that he appears to have experienced rather than CPR. But, if you look here…" she pulled out a pen, tapping at a spot on the picture. "This right here, those white splotches…that's bruising and it is across both lungs."Dean reached out, taking the x-ray and examining them critically. Dr. Garcia watched him, waiting until he—and Cas who was peeking over his shoulder—were satisfied and had handed them back to continue."The bad news is that just like a normal bruise, there will be swelling and pain, only this time—""It's on his lungs, and that will make it hard to breathe," Dean finished for her in sudden understanding. He rubbed at his mouth, thinking."Right." Dr. Garcia tucked the pictures back into the folder. "The next twenty-four hours should be the most critical, and then the swelling will go down. The worst-case scenario is that Agent Page will be unable to breathe on his own, and then we would have to intubate, but we are hopeful that it won't come to that. Just to be sure, though, we would like to keep him under observation until those twenty-four hours are up.""That's fine," Dean said without hesitation, sitting straight again. "Is there anything else?""Nothing else that is critical as of right now. He has a bad cut on his head, but we glued it and he doesn't appear to have a concussion, probably just one hell of a headache. Agent Page also had some first-degree burns on his legs; we're guessing from the explosion…?" She trailed off, but Dean could only shrug. He didn't have anything else to offer. "But they also were not as bad as I was expecting. He must have gotten lucky. The hypothermia we are still treating, but I'm happy with how his temperature is rising. Overall, there is no reason that he shouldn't make a full recovery. I am very optimistic."Dean nodded, swallowing thickly. Sam was fine, Sam was going to be fine. Everything was fine. He had known it, but there was nothing like hearing it said out loud by someone else, especially by a medical professional, to be reassured.Dr. Garcia shifted, distractedly tucking her hair behind her ears. "We were looking on his file for family members to be notified but there was only you. Would you know of anyone else who needs to be contacted?""Sam's kinda married to his job, I can answer for him," Dean said without hesitation, and Dr. Garcia nodded, apparently not surprised."So…is that all? Can we see him now?"Dr. Garcia smiled at the enthusiasm. "For just a moment. We are moving him to a room soon, but you can sit with him until then.""Wait, we can't spend the night?" Dean asked, his concern rising a notch."Well…," Dr. Garcia hedged, "strictly speaking, that's not allowed. He needs his rest and will probably be sleeping most of the night. He's also not a minor, nor are you family. It's just hospital rules."That was an unforeseen and rather ironic twist."Dean," Cas leaned over, giving him a knowing look that plainly said not to wreak havoc in the waiting room. Dean opened his mouth to rebuff that notion, but…Cas still looked pale. He needed to be back at the motel room to do… whatever it was that angels did to rejuvenate.Sam would be fine, but the last time he had left Sam alone it hadn't ended well.Dr. Garcia correctly read his reluctance. "I'm sorry, I wish I could let you stay. It's just hospital rules. If it makes you feel better, however, I can make a note in his file that you would like to be alerted should his condition change.""If you are sure that I can't stay, that would be great" Dean admitted slowly, still not liking the situation. Dr. Garcia smiled."Consider it done. Besides, I would feel better if you went home and got some rest. I understand that you were in and out of the water all night as well?" Dean nodded, unsure of what that had to do with anything, but Dr. Garcia kept talking. "Then you should take it easy. Go home, eat a good meal, and warm up. We don't want to see you here for any other reason except to visit your partner."Dean just barely resisted rolling his eyes."Well, if that's it…" Dr. Garcia stood, tugging her scrubs straight before gesturing for them to follow."Dean, I will stay here," Cas said abruptly, catching Dean's arm briefly and Dean's frown deepened. Cas waved away his concern. "I will be fine. Take your time with Sam, I will just rest here.""You sure…?""Yes. Yes, I'm sure. Go see Sam."Dean nodded hesitantly, but Cas gave him a pointed look and Dean turned, hurrying to catch back up with Dr. Garcia. They walked back into the ER, heading towards the curtained cubicles.Dr. Garcia shot him a look out of the corner of her eye, before saying suddenly, "I should warn you that we gave Agent Page some pretty strong painkillers along with some other medication, and…well, either that or the hypothermia has made him a little emotional. I don't know if that's how he normally reacts to drugs, or if he's just had a long night, but I wanted to give you a warning.""Thanks…" Dean didn't know what to think about that. He teased Sam mercilessly for being a girl sometimes, but that—that wasn't really Sam. Sam could hide his emotions easily enough—hell, he did it to Dean all the time—and it wasn't like him to break down in front of a random stranger.A red flag went up, and the unease from the night came in stronger waves. Sam was supposed to be fine, there weren't supposed to be any more complications."Here we go…" Dr. Garcia stopped next to a curtain, smiling as she pushed it open. "An orderly will be in soon to take Sam up.""Thank you.""Of course." Dr. Garcia gave him one last smile and then left, hurrying away and towards her next patient.Dean turned and slipped through the curtain.The head of the bed had been raised into a reclined, almost sitting, position, allowing him to see Sam. He looked to be sleeping and Dean studied him critically for a moment.Sam was still pale and dark shadows were under his eyes. Hard lines had etched themselves into his face, making him look older than he was. Several leads attached to various machines disappeared underneath the thin hospital gown and Dean turned his attention to the numbers flashing next to Sam's head.His heartbeat was steady, but his temperature was still too low. It wasn't as low as his oxygen levels, however, which were hovering in the eighties despite the additional oxygen that was being provided."Hey," Dean said in a tone just above a whisper, just in case Sam was sleeping. Sam's head rolled to the side, his eyelids working on opening."Dean…" The one word came out slurred, and Dean smirked as he sat down on the bed next to Sam's hip and lightly slapped his knee."Drugs working well, then?""Mmhmm…""That's good, enjoy 'em while you got 'em." Dean paused and dropped his voice slightly as he said, "Look, they're kicking me out in a couple of minutes. You gonna be okay? If not, I can muscle my way in, or we can break you out." Dean regretted the last bit the instant that it left his mouth. Cas wasn't up to healing Sam yet, and Dean wasn't comfortable enough with how low Sam's oxygen levels were to completely take over his care.In true Sam Winchester fashion, that was the part that Sam latched onto."I can…we can leave. I wanna get out of here." Sam shifted again. He still hadn't fully opened his eyes, the task seemingly beyond him at the moment."I spoke too soon. Let's see how the next few hours go, and then we'll bust you out," Dean revised, watching as Sam's forehead furrowed into a frown. "Hey, don't blame me. I'm not the sissy that's letting a couple of bruises bench me. Did the doc explain…""Yeah. Yeah, she told me I messed up my lungs. I'm fine.""Those two sentences don't go together, dude, like at all.""I don't want to stay here," Sam repeated, his words still slurring together. He said it almost desperately, and Dean was taken back to the boat, to Sam telling him that he didn't want to be alone."Yeah, I know." Dean patted Sam's knee again, leaving his hand there this time as he continued to watch the numbers on the monitors."Hey, Dean…" Sam forced his eyes to open more fully, rolling his head to better face him. He was silent for a moment, and Dean opened his mouth to ask 'what?' when Sam spoke again. "Hey, do you know how Gordon is? He's alive, right? I didn't make that up?" Fear was shining bright in his eyes, and even as Dean watched they began to glisten and redden."You're not crazy, Gordon's alive," Dean said carefully, watching Sam's response. "I haven't talked to his doctor or anything, but he should be just fine.""Are you sure?" Sam asked again, blinking against the still-forming tears."Yes. I am one hundred percent sure that he is alive.""I didn't—you said before that he was dead? He was never dead?" It came out as more of a question than a fact and Dean shifted closer, his grip tightening."I know I said that, but I was wrong that time. This time I'm not wrong, Cas took care of him. Cas healed him."To Dean's surprise, this didn't seem to soothe Sam, if anything it made it worse as Sam bit at his lip, turning his head away. His hands were clenching the thick blanket tightly and Dean could see him attempting to take deeper breaths, trying to ward off the emotions.Dean laughed a little nervously, trying to follow Sam's train of thought. "Dude…Cas saved him. Gordon's alive, I swear." Sam nodded, but his face was still screwed up and Dean tried a different tactic. "You know, the doctor told me that you were getting a little emotional, but I didn't believe her…"It was an open invitation for Sam to share, or at least as much of an invitation as Dean was able to give. Sam's lips thinned as he pressed them together, trying desperately to regain control."Sorry, it's dumb. I'm fine, I really am, I just…I tried, Dean, but I failed him. Dean, I—""Woah, woah, woah, hold up. You haven't failed anybody," Dean interrupted but Sam just kept talking, not paying any attention to what Dean had to say."I failed him, and I—I messed up, I failed you. I let you down, I didn't mean to, but I—""Sammy, hold up a second. You haven't failed me," Dean moved his hand up to Sam's forearm, squeezing tightly. "Not at all, and especially not tonight." Dean was freakin' proud of Sam, of what he had done. No, if there was anyone who had failed someone tonight, that award went to Dean.Sam was still refusing to meet his gaze, his face now wet with tears."I did. I—I let go, I didn't hold on, I just…I was so tired, I didn't care, I let go." Sam's breath sobbed in and out, his chest heaving in his anguish, and Dean glanced once again at the oxygen stats. They had already dropped a percent, and would only continue to if Sam kept this up.""Sam, hey, stop this, okay? Haven't you tasted enough salt tonight to last you a lifetime? How about we talk about this tomorrow when you feel better and aren't on the good stuff?"Sam shook his head, clumsily wiping at his eyes. It didn't do much good as fresh tears formed. Finally, he looked up at him, and Dean was startled by the emotion and exhaustion that was laid bare in his eyes. "Dean, I can't—I'm so tired, I don't think I can do this. I can't keep doing this. I can't keep going, not like how we've been doing it. I can't.""Yes, yes, you can," Dean insisted, his own stomach dropping and his grip became painfully tight. "Sam, you're just tired. It's been a hella long night, I know that. Everything is going to be better in the morning after you get some sleep. You're the one who taught me that, right?""No, no, it won't. It hasn't been, it's been so hard, it's not…" Sam trailed off, swiping uncoordinatedly at his face again. This time, Dean grabbed his hand, pulling it away before he could upset the oxygen mask."Hey, shh, take it easy. It's all going to be okay, it's all good," he began, forcing his voice to soothe rather than agitate. "You haven't failed anyone, most definitely not me. And we are going to fix whatever's going on, we always do, man. I'm looking out for you, okay? I've got your back."Sam nodded thickly and returned Dean's grip, holding on almost painfully tight. Dean let him, rubbing his thumb lightly against the inside of Sam's arm."Don't leave me," Sam muttered softly, even as the drugs did their work and his eyelids fluttered shut. He had to work to open them again, a stray tear slipping down his cheek."I won't, not yet," Dean promised quietly, trying to soothe Sam back to sleep, to get some rest. Leaning over, he slid a hand down over Sam's eyes, making him blink lethargically. When they popped open again a couple of minutes later, Dean slid his palm over them again, this time keeping them covered. He could feel Sam's lashes tickle his palm as he blinked."You always were a big girl. It makes sense that being high makes you sad instead of happy…" he teased to break the silence, to bring some normality back to the situation.Sam didn't respond, and Dean waited a moment longer before removing his hand. Sam's eyes remained closed, and his hand drifted up to rest on top of his brother's head—carefully avoiding the injury there—to offer comfort the best way that he knew how. He began to comb through Sam's hair, smoothing it away from the bandages. His hair was filthy, and in dire need of a good wash after all the time spent in the ocean but it didn't bug Dean.Sam flinched a little at the touch, his breath hitching, but he didn't open his eyes. He took in a shuddering breath, another tear slipping down his face. Dean absently brushed it away before continuing to comb through Sam's hair.He would never admit it out loud, but it was calming just as much for him as it was for Sam. It was proof that he had Sam, that he was okay and alive, that Dean hadn't accidentally killed his brother…He was more shaken up by what had happened than he realized, but he supposed that performing CPR on his brother would hit home just how close to death Sam had come.Dean didn't want to think about that, not right now. Probably not ever. Right now, he just wanted to focus on the fact that Sam was alive, that Cas was alive, that things were better than they had been in a long time.The curtain was peeled aside and Dean turned to see a nurse smiling at him."I've come to take Agent Page up to his room.""Oh…oh, that's…" Dean wouldn't use the word great. He wasn't exactly thrilled to have Sam away from his watchful eye, not when Sam seemed so out of it. Not when Sam kept requesting for him to stay. "Can I say goodbye? It'll be quick.""Of course." The nurse smiled brightly at him before retreating, but she didn't go far. Dean could see her sneakers just outside of their curtain."Hey…hey, Sammy…"Sam made a small noise, his nose twitching. Dean smoothed his hair into place one last time and then gripped his shoulder. "Sammy," he demanded a little louder. He probably should have just let him sleep, but he knew that he would want to be woken and told that Sam was leaving if he was in his brother's shoes.Sam's eyes fluttered open and Dean plastered on a reassuring smile."I've got to go. They're kicking me out, but I'll be back as soon as visiting hours start, okay? But until then you get some sleep and rest up. Everything's okay and I'll have you out of here as soon as we can."Sam searched his eyes and Dean could almost see him fortifying, and then nodded deeply. "Be here," he mumbled and Dean patted his shoulder again."Jerk."Dean almost missed it through the oxygen mask and a voice still thick from tears. He scoffed but didn't bother to hide the smile on his face."Bitch," he fired back and saw Sam take a deeper, calming, breath.Dean hesitated a moment longer before finally pushing his way through the curtain. The nurse exchanged places with him. "Just follow the exit signs to get out of the ER and tomorrow you can check in with the front desk to get a room number.""Thank you," Dean said.He watched them wheel Sam away and then followed the directions back to the waiting room and Cas.Cas caught his eye and hastily stood. He swayed a little but steadied himself quickly. Dean didn't say anything, Cas wouldn't want him to."How is Sam?" Cas asked, handing Dean back the coffee that he had long ago forgotten about as they began to make their way to the car. "I'm sorry that I didn't go back, I just thought that it would be better that way."Dean huffed a sardonic laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, it probably was. Sam was well…Dr. Garcia warned me that he was being emotional, and she wasn't wrong. Sam was kinda having a moment." It had been a little unnerving, actually, how Sam hadn't seemed to be able to stop crying.Cas frowned. "What was he upset about?"Dean heaved a sigh, rubbing at his forehead. His own head was starting to ache after the long night, and if he couldn't stay with Sam then all he wanted to do was go home and get some sleep so that he could be ready to go again once visiting hours started. "Sam was pretty upset. I think the medication hit him hard, he just kept going on about failing people, about failing Gordon and me, about letting…" Dean trailed off and stopped walking abruptly a couple of feet away from the Impala. His mouth dropped open and Cas turned to look at him in concern even as he braced himself against the roof of the Impala."Son of a bitch.""What? Dean, what's going on?"Dean shook himself and half-turned. "I just…Sam was telling me stuff and I just now realized what he was talking about…sonofabitch. That—I should go back and talk to him, I need to—""Dean, what did Sam say?" Cas demanded sharply."I—he told me that…" Dean knew exactly what Sam had said, but suddenly it was hard to vocalize it, to make the notion real. Sam had let go, out in the water and on the boat, he had purposefully let go and let himself slip into the ocean's deadly embrace. He had been planning on leaving Dean all alone, he was going to leave just like he always did. Dean couldn't deal with that."Dean—" Cas reprimanded, catching his arm, and Dean hadn't even realized that he had been moving back to the hospital, his stride purposeful and angry. It was better than the terror threatening just below."He let go, Cas! He didn't hold on, he let go! I told him that I would be right back, that I was coming for him, and he…Sam almost died tonight, he's still in the freakin' hospital and it was all because he didn't wait and he could have. He just about got himself killed tonight!"Cas's eyebrows rose. "Do you even realize how hypocritical you are being right now?" he asked bluntly.The words stopped Dean in his tracks and he looked over at the angel, his mouth dropping open. That wasn't what he had been expecting."Hypocritical?! I'm not—""Did you not just try and do the same thing, right before I came back from the Empty? Were you not the one who almost let go, despite Sam urging you to not give up? Only Sam, I doubt, really knew what he was doing due to hypothermia and exhaustion. You, on the other hand, went and baited Death, threatening to leave your brother just like Sam almost did tonight.""I didn't—""Yes. Yes, you did."Dean snapped his mouth shut and turned, striding back to the Impala, guilt now mixing in with all the other emotions threatening to rip him apart.They didn't speak for the trip back to the motel nor when they arrived.Dean simply dropped down onto his bed and shoved the half-full pizza box that they had been saving for Sam away.The light and happiness that had come from finding Sam, of him being alive, had been doused. Sam had tried to let go, and sure, hypothermia had played a part in that, but Sam had sounded so desperate and despairing back in the hospital…It hurt. It made his chest ache with both worry and sadness.Dean just wanted Sam to be fine, or as fine as they got. He wanted for them to stop hurting, to not have to fight so hard. The mere thought of Sam letting go, of him giving up…Dean couldn't. He couldn't deal with that.Sleep was a welcomed oblivion.#Fred Jones did not live a happy life.He didn't have much money, and what little he made, his wife kept using to buy pointless toys for kids that screamed all day long. He only found peace out at sea or getting drunk at the bar. Only, even that small peace was destroyed when his wife would nag for him to spend less money, to be home more, to not get drunk, to not flirt with other women…the list went on.As unhappy as his life was, however, it would be pure bliss compared to spending the rest of his life in prison. And he knew that that was where he was headed just as soon as the damned FBI agent or Sato squealed on what exactly had happened that night.He would be taken to court for destruction of property and attempted murder. Hell, he might go down for manslaughter, because Rob and Henry were dead.That wasn't how things were supposed to turn out. Sato was supposed to be the one hurting—just like he had been hurting Fred—but once again Fred was the one getting the short end of the stick.It was always him.He was going to prison, there was no way around it now.His life was shot to hell.It was all that Agent Page's fault. If he hadn't shown up, then Sato wouldn't have been on the boat. Then he wouldn't have been tempted to blow the damn thing up with Sato and Page on board.Fred pulled his blanket closer around him and turned over onto his side. The oxygen tubes and IV pulled uncomfortably and Fred growled, turning back over. He was spending the night at the hospital, just to be on the safe side, and, from listening to hushed conversations between the nurses, he knew that the others—Donnie, both Sato's and Page—had been moved up to the same ward as well.Apparently, spending even an hour in the ocean in the middle of the night in November was cause for concern and watchfulness.But Fred felt remarkably all right. His leg didn't even hurt anymore, and the doctors had given him blank looks when he asked if they were going to have to do surgery or worse.The burns were simply gone as well.Perhaps the cold had affected his thinking more than he had realized because he could still remember the absolute agony of flames crawling up his side. The pain had been worse than anything he had ever felt before. It was impossible for it to heal that fast, right? He couldn't have imagined the pain, like that other freakin' weird doctor or agent—Fred had never gotten a sure answer of which one he was—had kept assuring him must be the case when he had woken up briefly on the boat.Fred shivered again. There was something going on, something he didn't like. He didn't know what, but it made him uncomfortable. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.Agent Page, he was sure, had something to do with it. He also had seemed odd. Different. Not to mention, what was an FBI agent doing talking to Sato in the first place? That also didn't make a lot of sense. All roads just kept leading back to Page, he was the reason for all of Fred's current problems.The curtain offering him a little privacy from the room's other occupant was pushed aside as a young nurse—she had startling pretty eyes and a decent figure, Fred wouldn't mind hitting that— entered with a smile. She chatted with him for a moment as she checked the various monitors and then left.Fred watched her go, checking out her ass as she went, and saw her slip through the privacy curtain to visit with the room's other inhabitant and strike up a conversation.Their voices were quiet and muffled, but Fred's heart leaped in his chest. That was Agent Page's voice, or he was crazy.Using the bed's remote to sit up straighter, Fred tried to listen in.He couldn't quite make it out, but Page didn't sound good, his voice hoarse and weak. The nurse seemed to agree because she left, and returned with the doctor a short time later.Fred strained his hearing, trying to make out what was being said. Their voices were too quiet to really hear much, but for the next hour, there was an increase in traffic to Page's bed. He didn't feel bad for Page at all. It was the man's own fault that he was there in the first place.It did get the wheels turning in Fred's head, however.It was also Page's fault that Fred's life was about to become even more miserable than it already was. Unless, of course, there was some way to silence the agent.Fred had bullied Sato into not testifying before, he could do so again. A few well-placed threats to his family and Sato would be singing Fred's song to the police officers who would not doubt be around to get the full story. He would tell them that it had all been a tragic accident. He might even be able to get him to go down for accidental manslaughter, it was his boat that had exploded, after all.That wouldn't work with Agent Page, though. He didn't think that he could bully him into much of anything, but, if he just happened to die in the night, before the police had a chance to take down his statement…Page's health wasn't exactly great, and if Fred could do it subtly enough then he might just be able to pull it off.Fred sat on the idea for a while, his heart beating faster in his chest and his palms going moist as he worked his way through several different plans.It would have to be quick if he was going to do it, and he couldn't leave behind a trace. The doctors had to believe that Page had succumbed to his injuries. If they so much as suspected foul play…They were also in a crowded and very public location, with doctors and nurses going in and out of Page's half of the room.It would be hard to pull off, but not impossible.Besides, Fred didn't have any other choice; he was backed into a corner. It was do this or give up his own life.Waiting until the flow of nurses and doctors to Sam's room slowed for the moment, Fred worked himself out of the bed, wincing against stiff and sore muscles, and leaned against his IV pole to shuffle towards the curtain.Inching it back just enough to see what was on the other side, he peeked through.Fred flinched violently, his heart leaping. There was someone in there with the agent, but it wasn't a doctor or a nurse. It was a kid—or perhaps a young adult. No one had been allowed to spend the night, not that Fred had requested his wife, but how the hell did Page get special permission for that?It wasn't fair.Fred peeked through the curtain again. Page seemed to be sleeping, and the kid was just sitting straight with his hands on his knees, calmly watching over the agent.Neither of them looked like they were planning on moving any time soon.Footsteps came down the hallway and Fred turned around to look, making sure that the nurse wasn't going to enter his half of the room. When it became clear that they were moving past the room in general, he turned back and blinked in surprise, rubbing at his eyes.The kid was gone. He had vanished into thin air because there was no way in hell that he would have been able to leave that quickly. Fred had only been looking over his shoulder for a second, that was not enough time to sneak out.The chill went down his spine again. Something was wrong here; something was not how it should be.Right then and there, Fred decided to go through with his plan. There was something…unnatural about all this, and he intended to put a stop to it.Fred waited until the nurse and doctor checked in on Page one last time.They woke him and, to Fred's delight, began to talk with him about what sounded like intubation, explaining various options to stop his apparently rapid decline. Page didn't seem to care too much either way, sounding just as life-weary as he had had on the boat.Finally, they settled on waiting twenty minutes until the other agent—it started with a P as well, but Fred didn't remember it—could come and talk it over.Once Page's partner was present, there would be no way for Fred to do anything. The man scared him, for one. He was far too willing to cause bodily harm and Fred doubted that he would leave Page's side once he got there.If Fred was going to do something, it would have to be now and it would have to be quick.The nurse left, and Fred waited a moment longer to make sure that she had truly gone before pulling his IV out and laying it gently on the table. He would figure out how to put it back in later or make up some excuse for it being gone.Taking a deep breath to still his nerves, Fred pushed through the curtain.Page's head rose, turning to see who had entered.Fred smirked as his lingering fears faded into control and calm. He wasn't going to prison. Not today, not ever.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
The hospital room was non-personal and cold. The blankets covering Sam were scratchy and worn thin from being washed too often. They didn't bring any comfort either, smelling of sterilization rather than gun oil and aftershave.Sam shivered but resisted the urge to pull the blankets up higher. They would not help him shake the cold that had seemingly penetrated his soul. Little besides time could help with that. Besides, the IV was comfortable with how he had his arm bent and he didn't want to upset that. It was about the only area of his body that didn't hurt at the moment.His legs were throbbing faintly and his head ached in beat with his heart. His chest hurt so much that it was getting harder and harder to take deep breaths. Sam supposed that he should be concerned about that, but pain was an old friend and almost offered more physical comfort than anything else did.Pain meant reality. Meant that he was right in the head.Sam squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was past that, he really was, but the hypothermia had brought back bad memories and the drugs were making him fuzzy, drudging up things that Sam would prefer to leave untouched.It also apparently made him spill his guts to Dean.There had been no intention of breaking down like that, but Sam had been feeling off and it was Dean. All he had to do was walk in there and then Sam had let it all…slip out. He couldn't even really remember all that he had said, just that it had left him with tears on his face and Dean looking pained.He could guess, however, and he hadn't wanted Dean to know. Dean didn't need to be burdened with that, not when Dean was finally finding his footing again, not when he knew how Dean felt about living without Sam. He also didn't want Dean to think that he had given up, he hadn't. He had just… Sam didn't even know how to explain it to himself.The curtain separating his side of the room from the other occupant was pulled open, and Sam was not quick enough to fake sleep.The nurse smiled brightly at him."How are you doing, Agent?" she asked softly as she pulled his folder up from the end of the bed."Fine," Sam said automatically and regretted speaking as it sent a flare of bright, hot, pain through his chest. Damn broken ribs. And whatever else was wrong with him. He thought that he vaguely remembered someone mentioning CPR. Had Dean given him CPR?She didn't look like she believed him, making a disapproving hum. "I think that we will let your doctor have the final say on that."Great. That was the exact opposite of what Sam wanted. Why hadn't Dean broken him out earlier? He was fine. It would have been fine.She smiled again and reattached the chart to the end of the bed. "I'm going to return with Dr. Chase soon, but until then why don't you get some more rest? Do you need another blanket?"Sam shook his head, and closed his eyes as soon as she left, fully prepared to fake sleep to keep from talking with anyone else.Dr. Chase—a middle-aged man with glasses that made his eyes look too big—had a different plan and gently, but firmly, prodded Sam awake what seemed like only a few minutes later. He talked to Sam, breaking down his concerns about how low Sam's oxygen levels were getting.That would explain how lethargic he was feeling, and the headache that was steadily pounding away. Still, Sam wasn't worried. He had suffered through worse and made it through. Low oxygen wouldn't kill him, just make him a little miserable.Dr. Chase left again after increasing the amount of oxygen flowing through the mask with the promise to check in again soon.Sam closed his eyes with a shallow sigh, basking in the relief of being alone.He must have drifted off because he began to dream of cold and dark things but then he thought that there was someone next to him, a presence that was warmth and light.Sam opened his eyes only to see Dr. Chase and the same nurse from before hovering over his bed, having a quiet conversation. Flinching back at the unexpected sight, Sam closed his eyes, trying to pull his head from the fog of dreams and drugs."Sorry, Agent," Dr. Chase said with a wry smile. "We didn't mean to startle you, we were just talking about waking you up."Sam blinked dumbly up at them. "What time is it?" Hadn't Dr. Chase just been there?It was the nurse who answered. "It's about four am, but your numbers aren't getting any better."Dr. Chase sighed, crossing his arms and the clipboard that he was holding across his chest. "Agent, to be frank, your oxygen levels are concerning. They are getting rapidly worse as your lungs continue to swell. I think that the best course of action will be to intubate. And—" he said quickly, reading the protest on Sam's face, "I know that's not an outcome that either of us wants, but it would just be until the swelling and bruising goes down, so for probably about twelve to twenty-four hours. That's better than struggling to breathe that whole time, right? Better than being in pain?"Sam didn't respond immediately. Dr. Chase was right. Breathing tubes and sedations were the last things that Sam wanted to have happen. It wasn't what he needed. Cas would heal him, if he could just wait that long. Then he and the others could go on their merry way, could continue searching for Jack and Mary. Those were all much more important than Sam's lungs not functioning correctly."I don't…Is that absolutely necessary?" Sam asked. To his surprise, he had to pause and pull in a deeper breath to fuel his voice. Already it was thin, and he could understand the doctor's concern easily. Hell, he would be concerned if it was anybody but himself."Yes," Dr. Chase said firmly and without any hesitation. "I know that it sounds bad, but the next day is going to be miserable for you if you don't. It could be potentially disastrous.""Can't it wait until morning?" Sam tried to protest again."No. We would like to proceed within the hour."Sam rolled his head back against the pillows, trying to think. He felt like his head was in a fog, he didn't want… "Can I talk to Dean first?""That's your partner, right?" Dr. Chase and the nurse exchanged glances that Sam was too tired to decipher."Yes." Maybe Sam could convince Dean to break him out, to let Cas fully heal him if he was up for it. If not, he could sleep it off at the motel.Dr. Chase and the nurse were holding a silent conversation again, and Sam concentrated on drawing in the proper amount of air."Fine," Dr. Chase finally said, sounding disgruntled. "If that will make this easier for you, then I will give your partner a call. He won't be able to get here right away, it will probably be about twenty or thirty minutes. Are you sure that you want to wait that long? This really isn't a procedure to be worried about. You will be sedated throughout."Sam closed his eyes. He most definitely wanted Dean here, then. If Dean insisted that he go through with this, which he just might, then Sam would prefer to have his brother watching his back. He didn't like being that vulnerable, not anymore.Apparently even after all these years, he was still just a kid brother looking up to his big brother for comfort."I'll be fine. Thank you."Dr. Chase reattached the file with an exasperated shake of his head, and then both he and the nurse left.Blessed silence filled the room and Sam closed his eyes, forcing his lungs to keep pumping even through the pain.The curtain hiding the other occupant in the room was pushed open and Sam frowned, lifting his head from the pillow to try and see who it was.Fred Jones looked down at him with a cold smile that Sam had seen a thousand different times on a thousand different monsters who were preparing to kill.Sam stiffened."Agent…" Fred drawled gently, taking another step closer. He was also wearing a hospital gown, and a thin trail of blood was making its way down his arm from where he must have pulled an IV."Jones," Sam rasped out, trying to push himself into a better sitting position. He was panting heavily by the time he made it upright and had to wrap an arm around his ribs. There was no way in hell that he was ready for this fight, if there was to be a fight. Mr. Jones wouldn't be such an idiot as to try and do something here, in a hospital, would he?Mr. Jones's smile deepened as he took another step forward. "Not so light on your feet now, huh?" He glanced over his shoulder, presumably looking for witnesses for whatever he was about to attempt, and then closed the door to their shared room.Sam fumbled in his sheets, looking for the call button.This wasn't good…Mr. Jones's hand came down on his arm and gripped it tight enough that Sam winced.Sam looked up, meeting the dark eyes steadily, croaking out, "You're going to pay for what you did to the Satos, you know that right?"Mr. Jones smothered a flinch. "I didn't do anything. It wasn't my fault what went down tonight, that was all your fault."Sam leaned forward. He shared a part of the blame for what had happened that night, he wouldn't debate that, but he also knew where the greater part of it lay. He wasn't strong enough to tug his arm free of Mr. Jones's grasp, but he didn't wince this time when Mr. Jones's fingers contracted painfully around his arm on his next statement. "I'm not the asshole who gets a thrill out of blowing up other people's livelihoods, who gets off on fear. I'm not so royally screwed up that I try to hurt others. What happened tonight? That was your fault."Mr. Jones leaned in closer. "This isn't personal, Agent," he said bluntly in a cold tone. "This is survival of the fittest, you understand that, right? Either you survive and I rot in jail, or you die and I get to live a full life."Sam didn't even get a chance to reply. Having absolved himself of any guilt that he might have been feeling, Mr. Jones lunged forward and ripped the mask off of Sam's face. Planting a hand over Sam's mouth to abort any call for help, Mr. Jones bore down on him.He clearly did not expect Sam to throw out a fist, catching him in the throat. Wheezing, he staggered back, giving Sam just enough time to drag in a rasping breath before he attacked again.Restraining Sam's arms this time, he pinned him against the bed with a hand around his throat. Sam gagged against the pressure and Mr. Jones smirked as he dug the pillow out from under Sam's head and sealed it over his face. Letting go of his throat, he pressed down with all of his weight, struggling to keep Sam still."Quiet, now. We can't have anyone coming, can we?" he hissed, his own breathing ragged as he fought to keep all his weight on Sam.Sam gasped desperately in an attempt to find air. He had already been short of breath; the murder wouldn't take long if Mr. Jones did it right. Spots began to dance in front of his eyes, his heartbeat was pounding away in his head or maybe that was the heart monitor going off. He couldn't tell anymore. Unconsciousness and Mr. Jones's victory were not far away. The pillow would leave little to no evidence behind, they would all just think that his lungs had given out—Dean would think that he had given up. Again. But he hadn't, he wasn't, he just—Dean might give up.Panic bubbled to the surface and Sam writhed vainly, trying to break free. Mr. Jones laughed a little even as he pressed down on him, easily stopping any attempts to break free that Sam made.For the second time that night, all Sam could feel was the deep burning in his lungs, a desperate longing and desire for air, and inescapable pressure that was making his head ache and his heart pound.Sam couldn't breathe—there was no air to be had—he couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe—Bucking weakly, Sam made one final attempt to free himself as he searched blindly for Mr. Jones's arm and dug his fingers in deeply.Nothing happened.The shrieking of the heart monitor was a distant annoyance, the shrill sound blurring with the ringing in his ears. Everything was fading. He didn't have control over his body, it was no longer fighting back.It was the cold ocean all over again, only not.He wanted to fight back. Sam didn't want to die. He couldn't leave Dean alone, that was the worst thing that he could do.It was out of his control.Distantly, Sam thought that he heard someone yell—a ringing and angry protest—and he thought that it was a voice that he knew, one that… but, no, he couldn't place it. It wasn't Dean, and that was all that mattered.A brilliant light pierced through the veil of darkness that had encompassed him, and Sam's last thought was that this was the first time he'd died that he had actually seen a light.#Jack hadn't known what to do when he had killed the security guard back in Tombstone.A darkness that seemed crushing and inescapable had come over him, and the only thing that he could think to do was to run. Run away from the judgment of the Winchesters and Castiel, from the realization that they should not love him because he was a monster. Because he was Lucifer's son.Dean had known it from the beginning, but Sam and Castiel…they had been wrong about him.It hurt in ways that he couldn't express, and he wanted to fix it. He didn't want to feel that way.Cas, Sam, and Dean were all that he knew, and he did love them. Maybe if he could help them, they wouldn't think that he was evil. A monster. He could prove that he was worthy of their trust.But he didn't know how to do that, and for now, that meant that he had to stay away, had to fix himself first.Cas reached out to him regularly, praying for him to come back, that they weren't angry. That Sam and Dean were looking for him, that Cas wanted him to come home.Jack ignored it all, determined not to cause any more harm than he already had. Or, he did until Cas prayed to him, telling him that Sam was missing—possibly dying—and that Jack needed to come back and help them.The feeling that had settled in the pit of his stomach upon hearing the news was not comfortable. It made Jack feel physically ill, and he found himself unable to do anything but think about it.If Sam was dying—Sam had been his first friend, the first person besides his mother and Castiel to try and help him, he couldn't just let him down. He had to help him. He couldn't stomach the thought of Sam dying.The worry didn't go away, eating at his insides like acid, even when Castiel prayed again hours later that they had found Sam and that he was mostly fine. Cas was just waiting for Dean to finish talking to him before they went home for the night, leaving Sam in the hospital.That didn't sound very fine to Jack, but he couldn't ask Cas what he meant, not without revealing that he was hearing Cas's prayers. The feeling of dread only got worse until Jack decided that there was only one thing to do.Cas had given him in name of the town that they were in, and it only took a little bit of searching to locate the hospital Sam had been taken to.Making sure that no one was in the same room as Sam, Jack let his power flow through him, felt the tug of his wings, and then he was sitting on the chair next to Sam's bed.Cas had said that Sam was fine, but Sam didn't look…right.He was sleeping, but the air moving in and out of his lungs sounded all wrong and his skin was pale. The machines were also not very comforting.Jack stared at Sam, both wanting him to wake up and stay asleep all at the same time. Sam always made him feel better, assured him that things were going to work out and that it would all be okay. But if Sam did wake up, then he would have to talk with Sam.There were reasons that he had left.He stayed that way, watching over Sam until he heard the approaching footsteps of a nurse.Jack fled, but he didn't go far.Sam wasn't doing well, and he had to make sure that Sam was alright before he left for good.Sam couldn't die. Jack wouldn't allow that.Jack waited for about ten minutes, before harnessing his powers and once again transferring himself down to Sam's room.Only, everything had changed. Everything was wrong now and horror burned through Jack.A strange man whom he had never seen before was straddling Sam and had a pillow pressed over his face. The monitor next to them was emitting a shrill, piercing, noise that made Jack's ears hurt, but the thing that terrified Jack as little else had in his short life was that Sam wasn't moving.He wasn't fighting back. He was just lying there, his body limp. He wasn't fighting for his life.Rage coursed through Jack's veins."No!"The man wheeled around at the yell and then froze, his mouth dropping open. Jack didn't think long enough to let him do anything.He had hurt his friend; he had been trying to kill Sam.The power rippled through Jack without thought and effort as he raised his hand. The man's eyes went wide as he was hurled off the bed and flung into the opposite wall hard. One of the monitors fell off its mounting, crashing onto the ground and sending glass shards flying everywhere.The man did not get up, his eyes closed and blood trickling from a cut on his head.Jack didn't care. This wasn't like the security guard at all because this man wasn't innocent, this man had been hurting Sam. Jack didn't stop to think about if that made him more or less Lucifer's son, he didn't have the time.He yanked the pillow off Sam's face, but Sam still wasn't moving. The danger was gone, Jack had made it obsolete, why wasn't Sam breathing?Jack didn't know what to do."Sam!" He grabbed Sam's shoulders, shaking him roughly. "Sam, wake up!"Nothing was happening and Jack's eyes burned. Sam couldn't…not Sam. "SAM!"A thin, wheezing, and ragged gasp of air trickled through Sam's lips, his chest barely moving. That didn't comfort Jack at all, it didn't sound right."Sam?"Sam didn't open his eyes, his breathing labored and all wrong.Tears threatened, but Jack was out of time.The man was stirring on the floor, a hand going to his head and his face puckering up with terrifying rage. The wailings of the alarms and the shouting must have brought the doctor because frantic footsteps were coming down the hallway.Jack was cornered, he couldn't stay.The man turned to face him and Jack resisted the urge to fling him into the wall again, to crush him. To make him pay.He would have, but the door banged open and, with a flutter of his wings, Jack was gone, but not before he saw a panicked-looking doctor charging into the room.He found himself instead on the roof of the hospital.The knot that had tied itself in his stomach was painful and he sank to sit cross-legged on the roof. He shouldn't have left Sam. He should go back, make sure that he was alright, but he was…no. That would make matters worse. Sam couldn't know that he was here, and neither could Dean or Cas.He wouldn't go far, however, not right now, not when his insides were still curling with fear and anger.It was no longer pitch-black outside, the grey beginnings of dawn lightening the sky.A red sun was just touching the horizon when the achingly familiar roar of the Impala proceeded the car into the parking lot and Jack leaned forward eagerly, watching.Dean emerged first and did not wait for Cas to catch up as he made his way toward the hospital entrance.Jack relaxed, the knot of anxiety easing a little.Dean and Cas would take care of Sam, he didn't have to watch over him anymore. Sam's life wasn't in his hands. Sam would be fine because Dean wouldn't allow for anything else.Sam would be okay.Jack would leave for now, but he would come back. He would make sure for himself that Sam was alright, but there was nothing more he could do until then.With a flutter of wings, Jack was gone.#The harsh ringing of his phone jarred Dean from sleep and he blinked his eyes open blurrily, automatically fumbling for his phone. Cas looked over from where he was sitting on a wobbly motel chair.Dean rubbed at his eyes, squinting down at the phone.Samaritan Pacific Community Hospital flashed across his screen and Dean was suddenly wide awake.No, no, no… Dean pushed himself upright, shoving the blanket that hadn't been there when he'd fallen asleep off as his heart threatened to beat through his chest and anxiety filled him. "Yeah?" he snapped briskly."Agent Plant? This is Doctor Chase. I am working with your partner, Agent Page."The doctor continued to talk, and Dean listened intently, answering with curt, one-word responses. His shoulders began to hunch and he shifted, turning his back on Cas in some vein attempt to keep his emotions private. As the doctor continued to talk, Dean felt a lump forming in his throat and he found it increasingly hard to give answers as his eyes burned.He felt more than saw Cas come to stand behind him and he gnawed at his lower lip, letting the doctor finish even as he blinked rapidly to keep his vision clear."Can—We can come back in, talk it over with you and Sam, right?" he asked once the doctor finished. Doctor Chase responded in the affirmative and Dean nodded even though they couldn't see him. "We'll be there in fifteen. Please, look, I know…" Dean had never hated the necessary lies more than at this moment. "I know that we're not family, but we are. Sam's my responsibility, and I've got to look out for him so just wait until I get there. Let me talk it over with him, please.""Agent Page has requested the same," Doctor Chase responded, sounding a little exasperated, but Dean didn't care. He hung up without saying goodbye."Dean?" Cas prompted, a note of urgency entering his voice when Dean didn't say anything, but Dean couldn't. He was having trouble forming words around the tightening in his chest. "Dean, what is wrong? Is it Sam?""Ah, yeah. Um…" Dean shook his head. "Sam—uh, he's not breathing great." Dean's voice broke a little and he looked at the opposite wall and away from Cas. "The doc says that he's not going to be able to breathe on his own for much longer and that his oxygen numbers are really low. They are going to have to intubate him, probably for at least the next twelve—"His words cut off in a sob that came despite everything. He didn't know why he was reacting this way, it wasn't like Sam was dying. Doctor Chase had assured him that it would be just for a day—maybe two at most—but Sam wouldn't be breathing on his own. He was supposed to be fine, the night in the hospital was supposed to be a precaution, a simple solution. They were going to pick him up in the morning and, after a little R&R, they would be back to normal.But Sam wasn't doing good. This wasn't a simple thing."Dean…" Cas said it gently, and Dean dragged in a deep breath and squeezed the bridge of his nose before wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand."They were talking to Sam about it, and he wasn't giving them a clear yes, apparently. He wanted to talk with me first. We've got to go."Standing, Dean grabbed his jacket from where he had flung it over the chair when they had gotten back. He hadn't taken the time to undress the night before, nor take off his shoes so there wasn't anything else keeping him there. Cas was already standing near the door, waiting patiently for Dean."I'm sure that it will be fine. Sam's strong.""I know." And Dean did know that. Sam was one of the strongest people that he had ever known or would ever know, but still… Cas patted Dean's shoulder, and Dean looked away, embarrassed, as he led the way out to the Impala.Dean had to blink back fresh tears to clear his vision as he pulled out onto the road. Cas didn't say anything, ignoring Dean's occasional sniff, and Dean appreciated it more than he could say. He wasn't in the mood to be comforted, nor for talking about it.Sam was going to be fine. He had to be fine.Dean just…he couldn't lose Sam. He couldn't. He hadn't handled Cas's death well at all, he knew that, and if Sam…Dean closed his eyes for as long as he dared, shoving everything back down. He wasn't losing Sam; Sam was going to be fine.The hospital parking lot was mostly empty when they arrived, and there was no line to talk to the receptionist at the front desk. She was expecting them, and they were told to continue up to the fourth floor and that Sam's room was 414. As they were leaving, she patted Dean on the arm, giving him an empathic smile and Dean determinedly ignored the fact that she must have noticed how red and puffy his eyes were.They rode the elevator up in silence, Cas still giving Dean furtive looks that he ignored. Dean was too busy preparing himself to talk with Sam, to not let his emotions get in the way, to be the strong one.He took a deep breath as the elevator doors pinged open, but there was no way that he was prepared for the commotion that they walked in on.Nurses were rushing back and forth, a frenzied look of excitement in the air, and the intercom was repeatedly announcing a code Dean didn't recognize. Distantly, he could hear a monitor wailing its alarm as people shouted.His stomach curdled.
Not Sam. Please, don't be Sam.
Turning towards the room where the most movement seemed to be coming from, Dean took off, Cas right on his heels.They passed two nurses helping a doctor down the hallway, one of them had a white towel pressed against the doctor's head, but it couldn't hide the blood that was seeping down his face.Whatever had happened here, it wasn't good.They came to a stop in front of the door and Dean glanced up at the number. 414.Damnit. This couldn't be happening, not again.Shoving his way in past a nurse, Dean's attention was drawn to the corner of the room where a man was being held down by several nurses. He was bellowing profanities and fighting to break free as a thick stream of blood ran down his face.Dean felt hatred boiling up hot and strong in his chest as he recognized him. Fred Jones.They had saved him. And that had been a mistake Dean wasn't about to make again.Fred must have felt Dean's burning gaze because he jerked his head around towards him. If things weren't so serious, it would have been comical how fast his face went white and his mouth snapped shut in the middle of declaring the nurse attempting to hold him back to be a bitch and a whore."What did you do?" Dean demanded, striding forward as the anger thrummed hard through his veins. "What the hell did you do, you bastard!"Cas caught him by the arm. "Sam," he hissed, pointing into the corner of the room. Dean whirled around, his anger vanishing as quickly as it had come but he wasn't sure that the terror that replaced it was any better.A nurse was bent over Sam, who was lying still and silent on the bed. The one monitor still working was howling, showing a flat line where the heart rate should be."No." Dean didn't even know who he was pleading to as he lurched forward. "No, no, no…"It took him an agonizing moment to realize that Sam was in fact still breathing and was alive. The leads connecting him to the monitor had simply come unattached.Dean dropped his head even as his hand found Sam's shoulder and gripped tight. The wrenching, wheezing, gasps he was making would have normally turned Dean's blood cold, but for the moment he was just grateful."What happened?" Dean demanded, looking up at the nurse but her focus was on Sam and she just shook her head in answer. Another nurse swooped in, quickly and efficiently reattaching the lead to Sam's chest. The alarm stopped, registering Sam's too weak and slow heartbeat.The oxygen numbers that popped up a moment later when the finger clip was reattached were even worse."We're going to have to intubate asap. Someone go find Dr. Holland. Also, make sure that the IV is clear, we're going to have to sedate," The nurse on his right said in a calm voice that exhibited everything Dean wasn't feeling.Sam's breathing was getting worse even as he watched, the rasp getting more distinct and worrisome even as his numbers continued to drop. Fred was yelling again in the background, but Dean couldn't focus on that. He only had eyes for his little brother."What happened, what's that?" he asked once again, feeling like things had gone completely out of his control as a nurse rushed over with a syringe full of a clear liquid that she injected into the IV."We are just sedating him. We are going to intubate him once Dr. Holland gets here and we don't want him waking up in the middle, that won't do him any favors," she said."Can we do anything?" Cas asked from next to him, his voice steady. Dean threw him a desperate look, silently pleading with him to fix Sam, to make it right."Stay out of the way and let us work," she said, giving him a not unsympathetic look.Cas grabbed Dean's arm, trying to tug him back but Dean wasn't leaving Sam's side and he shrugged him off. Cas pulled more pointedly on him and Dean relented a little, moving to stand at the top of the bed where he could still keep his grip on Sam's shoulder."What happened to him?" Dean tried for the third time now that he had someone's attention. She glanced up at him."I—I don't know. We just heard this commotion, there was yelling, and then…" she shook her head, looking completely bewildered. "I don't think I can say anything else. I don't know, not really." She glanced towards Fred and Dean turned, ready to attack, to make him pay, but Cas stopped him."I'll handle him, you stay with Sam," he said in a low voice. It was only then that Dean registered the intense anger that was coming from Cas. His eyes were ice-cold as he met Dean's, and then he was striding past him and towards Fred."Get off me, you bitch!" Fred snarled as he finally succeeded in yanking his arm free.He didn't get far. Cas was there the next second, slamming him up against the wall with a hand to the chest.Dean's lip curled up in a smirk.Fred had no clue what he had gotten himself into. Cas was scary when he wanted to be, especially if you weren't used to dealing with angels. He should probably count himself lucky, however, that he was dealing with Cas instead of Dean. Dean would have ripped him limb from limb, but…he had other responsibilities.Dean clenched down on Sam's shoulder, bunching the hospital gown up in his fist.There was a commotion at the door, and a doctor in a white coat pushed her way through."I want everybody who is not needed here gone," she commanded, looking around at the crowded room. "We are not putting on a show. Now, out."A pair of security officers had followed her in and headed straight for Fred, who was still pinned against the wall by Cas."I won't go," Fred snapped. "I won't, I didn't do anything wrong. It's not my fault. It's them. They're all wrong and it's that kid's fault, the one who was in here. I was just trying to save him—the agent. I was trying to help. The kid was trying to kill him!""Sir, please come with us, there is no reason to make more of a scene than you already have," one of the security officers said softly."No!" Fred was growing more agitated. "I didn't do anything. I've done nothing wrong."Dean snorted and opened his mouth to refute that statement but the guard beat him to it. "Sir, we have witnesses who saw you attack Dr. Chase as you were trying to flee from this room.""No! I was—"Dr. Holland—or at least that was who Dean assumed that it was— had quietly sat down next to Sam with a focused gaze but a muscle in her jaw was twitching. She had apparently had enough as she whirled around, all patience gone from her face, "Enough! Please remove him from this area. This is ridiculous.""Yes, ma'am." The security guard tipped his head towards Dr. Holland and lightly pushed Cas out of the way as he grabbed Fred's arm.Cas shook his head. "I am coming with you," he said in a tone that brooked no argument and grabbed Fred's other arm. His expression could have been made from steel, and he shared a look of promise with Dean as they left the room.Fred Jones would pay for what he had done.Dean watched them go and fought the momentary urge to follow, to join in the questioning that he was sure was going to happen, to make Fred pay, but his first responsibility always was and would be Sam.He turned back to see Dr. Holland accepting a package of medical equipment from a nurse. She stood over his brother and began to prepare to intubate him.Dean quickly looked down at his shoes.That was one thing that he could live without seeing. The mere thought of what was happening was turning his stomach and he would have nightmares about it if he tried to watch.The process didn't take long, and it couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before Dr. Holland and the nurses were moving back from the bed. Sam was no longer wheezing, but the breathing mask and tube covering Sam's face were just about as comforting.For a moment there was silence except for the mechanical sound of Sam's breathing. Now that the crisis was adverted, nobody seemed to know what to do.Dr. Holland stood there, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. "What the hell happened?" she finally asked. "All I get is a message that Nick is being taken down to the ER because he was attacked by a patient and that we have another patient who needs to be intubated immediately, who also was attacked. Just…what the hell?"Dean didn't have any answers, and he would love some for himself."Um…" One of the nurses shrugged. "I think that Dr. Chase knows more than anyone. I didn't get here until later." She looked around at the others, but no one else volunteered any information."Well…" Dr. Holland shook her head as she looked over at Dean. "I'm so sorry that this happened. We will be looking into it, believe me, and we will make this right. In the meanwhile, I'm going to have to ask you to stay here with…" she looked around for Sam's chart and picked it up from where it had ended up in the corner of the room. "Mr. Page. Please, do not leave.""But—""Please, just…stay put and keep Mr. Page company. I'll be back as soon as I can. Kate, will you stay with them as well?"Getting a confirming nod from the nurse on the right, Dr. Holland left, shaking her head and still looking thoroughly confused.Dean felt the same.Righting the turned-over plastic chair, Dean offered it first to Kate and when she declined, sank down. Resting his chin on his clasped fists, Dean looked over at Sam. In all the chaos, the blankets covering him had come loose.Standing once again, Dean snagged the crumpled blanket and re-tucked it around his brother. Sam was still cold to the touch, and he took his lax hand in both of his as he sat back down, chaffing it to return warmth. Taking a deep breath in an effort to calm himself, Dean's eyes flickered back to the tube in Sam's throat.It was okay. Sam was alive, despite whatever had happened while Dean had been gone.He shouldn't have left Sam alone, he shouldn't have taken no for an answer.It was the second time in the last twenty-four hours that he had left Sam alone, and Sam had almost died both times.Guilt flared in his chest and Dean chewed at his lower lip. It was almost like the universe was trying to tell him something…Rolling his eyes, Dean shook his head. He knew that he and Sam functioned best together, thank you very much. And he hadn't been trying to leave Sam when Cas had died, he hadn't, he had just been an idiot.His decision which had seemed small at the moment was haunting him in every way. He knew better.He and Sam…they needed each other.Which is why he needed Sam to wake up, to start bitching again, to annoy Dean…anything. He would take anything. He felt like his feet had been pulled out from under him, that his balance was off, and if Sam didn't make it…"I know that it looks scary, but he's going to be fine," Kate piped up from the corner where she had settled."How do you know that? How do you know that he's going to be fine?" The questions came out raw in a way that Dean hadn't expected nor wanted."We are giving him the best care that can be provided," Kate assured him, smiling.Dean didn't feel reassured and he doubted that he would until Sam didn't have a freakin' tube breathing for him.#Morning sunlight was starting to spill brightly in through the window of Sam's new room—they had moved him into a private room shortly after intubating him—when Cas found them."What happened?" Dean asked immediately sitting up straighter as Cas closed the door behind him. "Please tell me that you made that son of a bitch hurt, that he is in as much pain as Sam is."Cas simply said, "I made sure that Fred told us the full story of what happened tonight."Dean rolled his hand impatiently. "Well, tell me. Why did he try and kill Sam?"The story unfolded with Cas relaying how Fred and his friends had started the night drinking and coming up with the brilliant idea to blow up Mr. Sato's boat so that he would no longer be a competition to them. They hadn't expected Sam and the Satos to be on board, yet that hadn't changed their plans. The only thing that had almost stopped them was their own idiocy of forgetting a second boat. It would have too, had one of the men not accidentally dropped a lit cigarette lighter into a puddle of gasoline.The part of the tale involving the ocean didn't interest Dean in the slightest, and he waved Cas on to what had happened in the hospital.Cas complied, telling him of how Fred had been convinced that he was going to go to jail, and his only way out had been to silence Sam, to kill him.Cas paused there for a moment a strange look on his face."What?" Dean asked tiredly."He would have killed Sam, of that I have no doubt. Except…except he said that there was a kid who showed up to stop him. A kid who used an unseen power to throw him against the wall."Dean cocked his head to the side, his eyebrows shooting up. "Jack?" he asked in disbelief.Cas shrugged his shoulders. "That is who it would appear to be.""But, how? How did he even…?""Know?" Cas hesitated on something, before finally admitting. "I've been trying to keep in contact with him. I let him know that Sam was missing tonight.""Oh." Dean sat back, a little befuddled. "He's a good kid," he admitted after a moment and he could almost see Cas swelling with pride."He is.""Do you think that he is still around here?"There was a long pause after that, Cas clearly thinking. "More than likely. He is close to Sam, he probably wants to make sure that Sam is alright.""So we might find him?" Dean questioned in surprise, but Cas was already shaking his head."Dean, he won't be found here unless he wants to be. If he wanted us to know that he was there, he would have already done so. It will not be that easy to find him."Dean reached over, momentarily clasping Cas's shoulder. "We'll find him. We will. And at least we know that he is alive now. That's a good thing."Cas gave him a small smile and Dean nodded deeply, sitting back.He didn't ask how Cas had found out the details from Fred, but he relished in the idea that he would be having nightmares of the experience in his prison cell for a very long time.There was no way that Fred wasn't going to go to jail, not after everything. Even if Sam didn't press charges—who was he kidding, they never pressed charges—Mr. Sato and Dr. Chase surely would."So, is Fred in police custody yet?""He is not in jail if that is what you are asking. He will remain in the hospital for the next twelve hours under police supervision. Once he is cleared, he will be taken to the county jail. He knows that if he tries to escape, or weasel his way out of the trial that will happen, then I will make him regret having ever met us," Cas said, and the hardness was back in his voice.Dean snorted, looking down at his hands before staring at Sam's lax face, at the tube going down his throat. "You know, if I had known what Fred had done and would do, I wouldn't have pulled him out of the water last night."Cas scoffed even as he moved towards the window, staring out of it. "Yes, you would have. I do not think that it is in you or Sam to let another human drown like that. Perhaps in other circumstances, you would not have saved him…but not in that situation. You might have watched him more closely and ensured that the police were involved, but you would not have left him to die.""Yeah, well," Dean wasn't so sure of his humanity as Cas was, "I wouldn't have let him anywhere near Sam. He was in the same freakin' room as him, no wonder he up and tried to murder him. If I had been there, he wouldn't have dared to try anything." Dean shook his head, reaching over to once again obsessively fix the blankets around Sam.Sam's skin was still cool to the touch, and Dean made a mental note to ask the next nurse that he saw for another blanket."I still want to rip his throat out," he muttered, not caring if Cas heard the comment or what he thought about it. "Sam almost died twice tonight. That has to be some sort of new record for us or something." The pit of darkness in his chest threatened to rear up, but he shoved it back down.Sam was alive. There was no reason to freak out."It was not your fault, Dean, either time. You couldn't have guessed what would happen when we left Sam tonight.""No, but I did leave him alone. I left him alone in the ocean and in the hospital. He asked me not to leave him."Cas sighed, turning away from the window. "What is the phrase you humans like? Looking back is better?""Hindsight is 20/20," Dean filled in dully."Exactly. You could not have predicted either of those outcomes, and you tried to do the best that you could with what was given you." Cas's face softened just enough to make Dean look away. "Don't give up, Dean. Sam hasn't, not on you, not on the world."Dean didn't say anything in response and for the next several hours the only sound was the steady beeping of the heart monitor.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
That evening, Dr. Holland came around and Dean held his breath as she examined Sam, hopeful that she would have the tube removed. Dr. Holland only shook her head, however, and ordered the breathing tube to be kept in for an additional twelve hours to ensure that Sam's lungs had an adequate time to heal.That was probably for the best, but it was still disappointing.In the privacy of Sam's room, Dean and Cas had debated the benefits and disadvantages of Cas simply healing Sam but, in the end, they decided against it. For one, they weren't quite sure how to pull the tube out without creating more damage and Dean was very sure that Sam didn't need any more traumatic hospital memories than he already had.The hospital staff was also paying them far too much attention. Dean knew that they were trying to make up for what had happened with Fred, but them popping in at any random moment to provide any service that he or Sam could need was not what Dean liked or was used to. It would also bring far too many questions if Sam was suddenly and miraculously healed.Perhaps the biggest reason, however, that Dean chose not to immediately grab Sam and run came early in the afternoon with a soft knock at the door.Gordon was standing there, holding the hand of a woman. Dean quickly stood, and Cas followed suit."I came to see Sam," Gordon said quietly after a gentle prompting from the woman who could only be Mrs. Sato. Dean and Cas shared a look."He's…sleeping," Dean settled on, bending down to be at eyesight with Gordon, who looked crestfallen at the news."I really want to see Sam," he persisted stubbornly."I know, buddy, but the doctors gave him some stuff to make him sleep, and he's pretty out of it right now." Dean cocked his head to the side, forcing a small smile. Gordon didn't need to see Sam with all the machinery that he was attached to. It would only upset him.Gordon looked up at his mother for guidance, who said, "We'll come back later, he'll be awake then."Dean looked at her fully for the first time, and couldn't help but notice that her eyes were red and puffy.It had been a rough day for family members all around."Is Sam really okay?" Gordon blurted out the question and Dean looked down to see to his horror that the wide, youthful, and innocent eyes were swimming with tears. "Sam saved me, he can't—I don't want him to die! He promised that we wouldn't die!""Gordon—" Mrs. Sato began softly, bending down to be at his height as well, but Dean took over as he shifted positions, squatting a little and bracing Gordon's shoulders."Sam's not dying, kiddo," he said firmly. "He's just sleeping. His body was tired, but he's going to wake up sometime tomorrow.""Are you sure?" Gordon asked, using his arm to wipe at his eyes. "He saved me," he repeated, sniffing a little.Mrs. Sato wrapped one arm around her son's shoulder, her face crumpling as her eyes filled with tears that she quickly blinked away."Sam will be fine." This time it was Cas who spoke from where he stood slightly awkwardly to the side. He smiled at Gordon, lifting a hand in acknowledgment.Dean nodded. "You hear that? Cas is kind of like a doctor, he helped you and your dad out there on the ocean. And he says that Sam will be fine so that must mean that he is going to be. So why don't you come back tomorrow, you can see him then. Does that sound like a plan?"Gordon hesitated, but finally nodded, still looking tearful. Dean stood, grunting a little as his knees popped. Damn, he was getting old. "Is Mr. Sato doing okay?" he asked in a soft voice to Mrs. Sato. Sam would want to know when he finally woke up."They are keeping him one more night for observation and some of the burns will scar, but they are optimistic. They say that it is nothing short of a miracle that they both survived." Mrs. Sato smiled wetly at them, before bringing her son in closer and giving him a look filled with such warmth and love that Dean felt like he had suddenly walked in on a very private moment. "Thank you. Thank you for both of them, my son and my husband. I can't…thank you.""Sam and Cas are the ones that you should be thanking," Dean said awkwardly, feeling his face flush. "They did all the work." He gestured for Cas to come closer, but he just nodded deeply, still looking hesitant."Thank you," Mrs. Sato repeated to both of them and Dean forced another smile. She returned it and began to tow Gordon gently towards the door. She stopped abruptly and fumbled in her purse. "Oh, I almost forgot. I ran home earlier to get clothes for Gordon since he's being released and I grabbed some cookies, here…" She thrust the container at Dean. "Please, they aren't as fresh as they could be, but...anyway, I know that we can never thank you enough, please accept this.""Thank you," Dean said, taking them from her when she persisted.They left, Gordon looking over his shoulder once with a sad expression on his face.Right then and there, Dean decided that Sam should stay, if only for both Sam and Gordon to find the closure of seeing the other alive and well. Sam had had so many things stolen from him in his life, Dean wouldn't take this as well.Sam needed to know that there were reasons to keep fighting.
I let go…
The words were still haunting Dean. That, and Cas's little speech about how he had acted similarly a few weeks before. Was this overwhelming fear and terror what Sam had been feeling? If so, it explained some of Sam's overprotectiveness and desperate desire to make Dean happy. It explained his requests not to be alone because being without his brother was the worst thing that Dean could imagine.The feelings were both humbling and terrifying, especially since it was now Dean's turn to carry the buck, but it also brought warm pride. Sam had been doing this for weeks now, even before the ghosts and Dean's stunt. He had been doing it ever since Dean had admitted to feeling lost. He had done it while grieving for Cas, while looking out for Jack. While mourning their mother.Sam was an unstoppable force when he wanted to be, but then again, maybe that was all part of the show. Because Sam was struggling, and maybe Dean just hadn't been able to see it before, or perhaps he hadn't wanted to. He wouldn't have been able to handle Sam's grief, not with the crushing weight of his own.Sam's own little stunt had been a wake-up call, and things were going to change now. He had learned his lesson, he wasn't going to leave Sam to face the despair all alone.Dean was going to anchor Sam to him, give him hope and a reason to live, just like Sam had done for him before.Now he just had to wait for the tube to come out so that he could tell Sam this, to tell him that he was sorry. Tell him that he truly wasn't alone, that Dean had his back.The next day, Dr. Chase returned—with a set of butterfly bandages all of his own—and deemed that Sam would be able to have the tube out. The relief must have been evident on Dean's face because Dr. Chase had smiled warmly at them before instructing Dean and Cas to leave for an hour while they pulled out the tube and weaned Sam off the sedation.They left to get food, and Dean had a noticeable bounce in his step.Sam was just starting to come around when they came back, and Dean quickly shooed the nurse who had been waiting with Sam away. He could handle this just fine, thank you.The tube was gone and there wasn't even an oxygen mask anymore, just a nasal cannula.Dean's shoulders dropped with relief.Sam was breathing on his own, actually taking deep breaths, and his oxygen numbers were far higher than they had been even before the attack. They weren't completely back to normal, nor was his breathing, but Dean would take what he could get.Hitching himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, Dean watched as Sam's head shifted, subconsciously tracking their movements even though he wasn't fully awake yet. Cas stood over Dean's shoulder, watching."Hey," Dean said and couldn't help a fond smile as he rested a hand on Sam's arm. "You gonna wake up, Sleeping Beauty? C'mon…time's a wasting. Cas is getting antsy with no Netflix to watch. Plain old TV doesn't do it for him anymore. You've spoiled him."Cas shot Dean a dark glare, but he just raised a hand, showing him his middle finger.Sam hummed a faint response, attempting to pull in a deeper breath. He coughed thinly and pulled his arm out of Dean's grasp to wrap tightly around his chest, a grimace of pain pulling at his features."Hey, take it easy. You've just graduated to being able to breathe on your own, so don't push it."Cas shifted, moving forward. "I could heal him in a moment, now that the tube is gone," he said pointedly and Dean nodded."In a minute, if Sam agrees to it."Sam dragged in another breath, and his eyes flickered open before closing again. They didn't reopen and Dean snorted. "C'mon, make a choice, dude. Either go back to sleep or wake up. We're getting mixed signals here.""Shut up," Sam slurred out, trying to roll over and shift positions again to alleviate the pressure on his ribs."Don't try that, you did quite the number on yourself." Dean placed a warning hand on Sam's chest and he stilled."What happened? Is everything okay?" Sam asked, his voice rough and hoarse from the tube.Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Everyone is okay but you. How are you feeling?""Tired. And sore.""That is probably an understatement." Dean chewed on his lip, watching as the gears in Sam's head turned. He wasn't surprised when his eyes flashed open a moment later, a look of alarm on his face."Jones, Fred Jones, he—" he began urgently, but broke off in another coughing fit. Dean looked around and gestured pointedly for Cas to get the pitcher of water sitting on the bedside table before searching for the controls to move the head of the bed into a higher position.Cas hastily poured a glass of water, offering it to Sam, who took it and drank shakily, still warding off coughs. Dean waited anxiously for them to die down."You okay?" he asked again and Sam nodded, wiping the water from his eyes with the back of his hand."I'm good. Just…" he shrugged but didn't need to finish the sentence. Dean relaxed slightly, thumping Sam on the knee."Don't worry about Fred. We got there not even ten minutes after he attacked you. He's in police custody and, with a little help from Cas, has confessed everything. He's going to go to jail for an obscenely long amount of time. Death was too quick a lesson for him, but if he gets out, then I'm going to visit him and teach him a lesson that he's never going to forget."Sam's brow creased into a frown as he continued to look confused. "How long have I been asleep, then?""About a day and a half. They had to intubate you, so you should be glad that you were asleep for all of it.""Sam," Cas stepped forward and Sam looked up at him. "Do you wish for me to heal you completely? We didn't do it before because of the tube, but now I can.""I'm fine," Sam repeated even as he brought a hand up to his chest, bracing and protecting his ribs."Right. That's why they had to stick that freakin' tube down your throat so that you could do something as simple as breathe. Cas is all juiced up again, or at least as much as he's gonna get, might as well put him to use."Cas nodded solemnly, but Sam still hesitated. Dean frowned, giving Sam a knowing look."Sammy…we've talked about this. You've talked to me about this. We can't keep holding onto things, you can't punish yourself for what happened."Sam snorted. "It's not that…" he trailed off with a shake of his head. "Never mind.""Sam?" Cas asked again. Dean gave Sam another pointed look, and he sighed carefully."Oh, fine. I can't form an argument against either of you while on all these drugs. I feel like my brain is all scrambled." Sam winced again, waving vaguely at the IV port that was still in his arm. Cas looked as relieved as Dean felt and stepped forward, pressing two fingers against Sam's forehead.He stepped back a moment later, and Sam blinked rapidly, full awareness filtering back into his eyes."Thanks." He gave Cas a thin smile that Cas returned."So, ah, are we finally getting out here of then?" Sam asked, shifting to sit up straighter. His usual grace was back, his face clear of any pain, and Dean felt satisfied."Finally? Man, you've been out of it. You don't get to complain about how long we've been here. But, no, not quite yet. Tonight, after the shift change you can make your great escape."Sam's lips thinned. "I'm not sitting here for a couple of hours pretending to be injured. Just get me out now, and we can make a run for it. Where are my clothes?"Dean smirked. "Ah, but where would be the fun in that? Also, don't you want to see Gordon?"That got Sam's attention. "Gordon is here? Is he okay? You told me that he was alright, that he was alive, didn't you—?"Some of the panic had reentered Sam's voice and Dean flapped a hand at him. "Calm down. I promise you, Gordon's fine. They released him yesterday and he came by to try and see you. Mr. Sato is getting released today, and I think they plan to stop in before they leave.""They also brought you cookies," Cas piped up seriously, "but Dean confiscated them.""Dude, I swear," Dean began, putting his hands up at Sam's accusatory look. He couldn't help a smile, though, the look was so Sam… "It's not because I was the one eating them. Cas was doing that, that was all him.""Right…" Sam said incredulously."I wasn't!" Dean defended himself and Sam rolled his eyes, not commenting further.They lapsed back into a comfortable silence, but Dean was watching Sam closely. Despite having just been healed, he looked tired, his eyes hiding a wealth of unsaid sadness that constricted Dean's heart. How long had he been ignoring this, or just overlooking Sam's pain?Clearing his throat, Dean gave Cas a significant look.Cas looked blankly at him before his eyes widened slightly and he said "Oh!" far too noticeably. He began to swing his arms a little awkwardly. "Sam, I must—Dean wanted coffee earlier. I said I would get him some, so I must go."With that, he left. Sam stared after him and Dean resisted the urge to drop his head into his hands in embarrassment."He's never going to get more subtle, you know that, right?" Sam said and Dean looked over to see him smiling."Man, we try. We've tried so hard to teach him. I guess some dogs just can't learn new tricks." Dean cracked a smile of his own, but it quickly failed. Sam's did as well, and a now slightly awkward silence stretched between them. Sam was picking at the blanket covering his legs, refusing to look at Dean.Dean rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to find the perfect way to word what he had already been rehearsing.Sam beat him to it, however. "Dean…you want to talk about something, clearly, but I don't know if I'm ready for—""If you say that you're not ready to talk or don't want to, then I really will know that something is wrong." Dean tried again for humor, but Sam was still staring down at his legs and he sighed, leaning forward.It was probably best just to jump in and forget everything that he had rehearsed."I think that I owe you an apology.""An apology? For what?""I shouldn't have done what I did, with the ghosts. I shouldn't have been so careless with my own life, I didn't—I wasn't thinking about how if it didn't go according to plan, it would hurt you. I just…I just wasn't thinking.""You never do," Sam intoned, still not looking at Dean."I mean, yeah, kinda what I do, isn't it? That's not my specialty for the team.""Dean," Sam cut in, rubbing at his forehead and suddenly sounding extremely tired. "Can we not? I'm not doing that again."Dean made a face. "I'm trying to apologize here, man, don't make it harder."Sam didn't say anything else and Dean fumbled for a moment. "Look," he angled himself on the bed so that he was more directly facing Sam. "I know that things haven't been exactly easy ever since Mom and Cas—and looking back I think that I dumped a lot of junk onto you, and that wasn't fair—""You don't have to apologize for that, Dean. It's fine. It wasn't a big deal.""Yeah, I know, I just…I know that you're still upset about Mom. And then there was Jack, and you took him under your wing and I know that I didn't make things any easier. You carried all of us while Cas was…gone. But it doesn't have to be that way anymore. I'm here to help, okay? I've got your back. So whatever you need, I'm here. Okay?"Sam nodded slowly in apparent understanding. "This is about something I said, earlier, when I was half out of it on drugs, isn't it?""You sure weren't talking about unicorns and rainbows. You told me that you let go, Sam. That scared me." Years ago, Dean might not have put it so bluntly but a lot had changed between them since then, and probably for the better although Dean would never admit that last bit out loud.Sam shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, not really. And I'm good. I swear, I'm good.""Are you sure?" Dean pushed because Sam didn't look relieved, he still looked heart-wrenchingly sad and tired.Sam's mouth twisted upwards in a poor attempt at a smile as he nodded thickly. His eyes were starting to glisten, and Dean's heart dropped as Sam quickly looked away."Sammy…?"Sam licked his lips before his jaw clenched shut and he was silent as he gathered himself together. "Why did you do what you did, with the ghost?" he asked in return, his voice tight and slightly choked up.Dean made a face, exasperated. "This isn't about me, Sam. I'm asking you.""And I'm asking you. Why did you do it?"Dean leaned his head back, praying for patience. "I'm good. I really am doing okay. Hell, I'm really good now that you're okay. It's you that I'm worried about. C'mon. Talk to me, let me help.""I want to know why you did it," Sam repeated stubbornly and Dean ran both hands over his face. He didn't want to talk about those weeks when he thought that Cas was dead, but he guessed that he was asking rather a lot from Sam as well by forcing him to dig through emotions that he would rather have left untouched."It went dark, Sam. I already told you that. I couldn't—everything just went black and I stopped caring about what would happen to me and it just…I did what I did because it seemed like a solution to finishing up the hunt. I wasn't trying to kill myself—like you seem to think—I just didn't thoroughly think through everything. In the moment it just seemed like a solution. There. Now I've told you, why don't you tell me what happened out there on that boat?""I—" Sam hesitated, looking both concerned and scared. For all that he liked to talk about other people's feelings, Sam wasn't very good about doing it for himself. "Dean, do we have to do this right now?""Yes," Dean pushed stubbornly. Turnabout was fair play as far as he was concerned. "C'mon, let me in, help me understand."A muscle in Sam's cheek twitched, and he went back to staring at his legs. "I don't know what you want me to say. It's a similar story. I was just tired. Hypothermia's not exactly a lot of fun, and I dunno. I thought that Gordon was dead and I know it's dumb but I was so determined to save him, and when you told me that he was dead, it felt like the rug had been pulled out from underneath me, you know? It was like it didn't matter. You had Cas back—I know that Cas would have helped Jack and you'd—" Sam trailed off, his face flushing as he seemingly realized that he had said more than he had intended to.Fear was boiling up hot and strong in Dean's belly as he listened to Sam talk, because all of a sudden, this felt too much like they were back in that old, crumbling, church, with Sam saying 'So?' when faced with his own death. Maybe it wasn't as high of stakes, and Sam wasn't holding a metaphoric gun to his head, but it was giving Dean a similar bad taste in his mouth.Shaking his head, Dean snapped, "God help me, if the next words out of your mouth are that I'd be okay, then I will—""No, no, I wasn't—" Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not an idiot, it's just…" Sam seemed to be struggling to put into words what he was feeling and Dean waited. "You were happy, or you had been over the last few days and right then it just seemed like the easiest thing to do. Holding on was…I couldn't do it. It seemed impossible."Dean stared at Sam, trying to read between the lines of what his brother was saying. "You know that's not true, right? That you didn't fail, and that even if Gordon had died it wouldn't have been your fault?"Sam scoffed, but Dean couldn't help but notice the slightly self-deprecating look he gave Dean. "Sure.""Sammy, man, it wasn't your fault. It was that asshole Fred's fault, there is no way around that. You saved Gordon! Without you, he and his dad would have died."Sam shook his head. "Dean, they wouldn't have been in that position in the first place if I hadn't been there.""Well," Dean didn't know if that was true or not, but he let it slide. "Still, Sam, you didn't—look, we save people, all the time. You haven't failed. You—" and suddenly words were getting harder and Dean could feel his face warming as he rubbed self-consciously at the back of his neck. "I don't want to think about how Jack would have ended up if it hadn't been for you. And you've been working relentlessly on a way to save Mom, and you sure as hell carried my sorry ass, and-and those are just the times from like the past month, never mind your whole life. Without you, Sam…I…you were the only reason that I could keep going this last month." He had always just assumed that Sam had known that and that he wouldn't need to actually say it, but Sam sometimes needed things spelled out.He ducked his head, trying to get a better view of Sam's face. He squeezed his arm to get his brother's full attention, wanting him to understand the significance of his next words."You haven't failed me. At all, Sammy."Sam nodded blindly and Dean reinforced it, gripping Sam's arm hard enough that it probably hurt."Together, we can do anything, right?" Sam was smiling at Dean, albeit a little wetly. It was an old notion for them, but one that still hit home deeply. Other people came and went—some people they even accepted into their small family—but it would always go back to being the two of them against whatever life threw at them."You remember that. The two of us, we'll work everything else out, alright? I've got my head out of my ass and I've got your back," Dean alliterated, letting go and thumping Sam lightly on the leg.Sam didn't necessarily look happier or less tired, but his smile was lighter—more real—as he nodded again.Dean met his eyes, searching them deeply for a moment before sitting back, satisfied that for at least the moment they were both good. All the same, he vowed to himself to keep a closer eye on Sam—more so than usual—to make sure that he was okay. Make sure that he was happy, or at least as happy as they could get.Smiling widely, he thumped Sam on the leg harder. "You do anything stupid like letting go again, and I will come for you. That was a real bitchy move," he said and Sam rolled his eyes."Whatever," he said, scratching absently at the tape that was securing the IV to his arm."Stop that." Dean slapped his hand away."You aren't seriously going to make me sit here for the rest of the day, are you?" Sam asked pointedly and just like that the emotionally charged tension disappeared and they settled easily back into old rhythms.#Dean kept the TV playing for the rest of the day, and the three of them—Cas had returned with a cold cup of coffee for Dean—watched in easy silence, only making comments regarding what was on the screen.Sam thought that it was actually kind of nice…it made it so that he didn't have to think about everything else that was happening, all that they still needed to accomplish.As the afternoon sunlight drifted in, warming the room, Dean fell asleep with his head propped up in his hand, snoring gently."He has not slept much since you've been in the hospital," Cas informed Sam in a low tone."Doesn't surprise me," Sam said, giving his brother a fond look.Cas shifted in his seat, casting a glance at Dean, before leaning forward. "I want you to know that I talked with him like you asked me to."Sam's heart lifted a little. At least someone had helped Dean over the last few days, Sam had just scared him witless. "Good. Thank you. What did he say?"Cas shook his head, giving Sam a helpless little shrug. "He did not desire for me to repeat it all back to you, but he said that he would tell you."Sam snorted, and he shook his head. Dean might, someday, but he doubted it would be anytime soon. Especially not now that he had freaked Dean out, he would think that Sam couldn't handle whatever it was that he was feeling."You sure that you can't tell me?""I promised Dean."Sam didn't push it, that felt like it would take too much energy at the moment. Besides, the next time that he and Dean were alone, or went on a hunt, he would do a little digging. He felt better with the knowledge that Dean had at least gotten some of his feelings out into words.Cas was still looking at Sam."Did he say anything else?""No. I was just thinking…Sam, you scared Dean. Badly. And I now realize that we were all so worried about Dean, that you've fooled us."Sam bit out a laugh. "Fooled? I haven't been trying to fool anyone.""Not directly." Cas shook his head, looking frustrated. "But Dean hasn't been the only one to lose people that he loves recently yet he is the only one that you will discuss, that any of us are discussing. So now I ask you, how are you doing, Sam?"The kindness and concern there were almost enough to bowl Sam over but he shook his head. He didn't want to do this again, not after a morning of hashing it out with Dean. "I'm fine."Cas sat back, frowning. "Both you and Dean use that phase frequently, but if you look at the definition, you do not use it correctly. At all."Sam rolled his eyes. "That's Winchester logic for you. And don't pretend like you haven't picked it up.""Well, yes. But—"Dean snorted in his sleep, and they both fell silent for fear of waking him.Once Dean had settled, however, Sam looked sideways over at the angel."Hey Cas?" he said at last and Cas looked over at him. "I was just…you know that night that Fred attacked? I was…I don't know how that all went down. Was someone…was there someone there who jumped in to help?"Cas frowned, tipping his head to the side. He was silent for a long time. "I think, well, we know," he began slowly. "We know that Jack came and visited you. I think that he saved your life."Sam's mouth dropped open. "Jack? Really? But how did he even know…?""I prayed to him when you were missing and when we found you, I was hoping that he would come back."Sam mulled over the information, his lips pressed together. "I hope that he's okay out there. That we didn't screw him up too bad.""He is Kelly's son through and through, not Lucifer's," Cas said firmly. "We will find Jack, I'm sure of it and we will help him find his footing. He is not alone, Sam. Nor are you. Your friends are here to help you," he paused, giving Sam a significant look, and Sam dropped his gaze. "As for finding a way to reach Mary, we will work on that as well once you are better and—" Cas looked like he still had more that he wanted to say, but a soft knock at the door broke him off.Dean jerked himself awake, looking around blearily as the knock sounded again. He reached for the remote, muting the TV, as Cas moved to open the door.Mr. Sato was standing there, dressed in street clothes, and apparently ready to be released. Mrs. Sato and Gordon were at his side.Gordon smiled at Sam, and something warmed in his chest."Hey," Sam said, sitting up straighter."Hi," Gordon, and there was an echo of the exultant cheeriness that had been there the first time they met even if it wasn't there completely. "Dad gets to go home today, but I wanted to see you, I wanted to give you this—" He held up a small gift bag.Dean backed away from the bed to make room for the Satos. Gordon disentangled his hand from his mother's, and moved to Sam's bedside, offering over the gift bag.Sam took it, offering a smile of his own. "I don't have anything to give to you.""You gave us everything. Gordon is alive, because of you," Mr. Sato said, his voice catching thickly, and Sam was surprised to see tears in his eyes. Could they not see that they had only been in danger because of Sam in the first place?"I also have something for you, Sam Winchester," Mr. Sato said, limping forward. He held up a small, spiral-bound, notepad. "I have not forgotten why you came to visit us, and I'm sure that your notes were ruined while in the ocean. I cannot replace everything there, but I have copied down what I told you earlier. I hope that it helps you find your mother." He handed the notebook over, and Sam took it gratefully."You lost the coin, didn't you?" he asked mournfully a moment later. Mr. Sato actually smiled, shaking his head."It was still in my pocket when the hospital returned my clothes.""Good," Sam said and meant it. That was one less thing for him to feel guilty about, at least. He held up the notebook. "Thank you." It was touching, really, the kindness that was being shown to them. "If you ever—ever—need anything…just call us."Mr. Sato paused, sharing a look with his wife. "I'm not sure of everything that happened out in the ocean. But I know that we owe our lives to you and your companions. I can't explain everything…" he trailed off and Dean shifted uncomfortably, folding his arms across his chest.Sam nodded slowly. "I'll call you," he promised. "I can explain some of it, just not right now.""Thank you." Mr. Sato inclined his head and then reached out, shaking Sam's hand. The grip was still firm, if lacking in some of the strength that it had had the first time they met. "We will not keep you. I am sure that you need your rest. And I am sorry for all the grief that Fred Jones has caused you. I did not wish that for you.""That wasn't your fault," Sam said firmly, and pointedly ignored Dean's hand settling on his shoulder in a silent, 'if it wasn't his fault, then it wasn't yours either.'Mrs. Sato gave them all a brilliant smile and then tugged at her husband's arm. "Sam needs rest, as do you," she said and Dean nodded in agreement. The family turned for the door, but then Gordon paused, looking over his shoulder. He rushed back to Sam's side and, reaching up on his tiptoes, wrapped his arms around Sam.The hug took Sam by surprise even as he returned it."You're a good kid, Gordon. Keep it up," he said and Gordon nodded into his shoulder before breaking the hug and hurrying back to his parents."Hey," Dean said, stepping forward and offering his hand for a high-five. Gordon grinned sheepishly, returned it, and then the Satos were gone.Sam watched them go."Hey." Dean nudged him. "What did they get you?" He gestured at the bag, and Sam pulled it open to find a card and a small stuffed animal—a brown bear that said 'get well soon'—that had surely been purchased at the little gift shop in the lobby."That's original," Dean said dryly, and Sam rolled his eyes."He's a kid, Dean."Dean shrugged before stretching until something cracked and then settled back into his seat, unmuting the TV."Wait. Doesn't that mean that we can break out of here, now? Dean, I am not staying in this bed any longer than I have to. I'm fine."Dean began to flip through the channels. "Hold your horses. The nurses are making their rounds soon, give it an hour and we'll be out of here. While you're waiting, you can ask Cas what he thinks about Jurassic Park.""You showed him Jurassic Park without me?" Sam asked incredulously and Dean shrugged."Hey, I offered pizza and a movie, and you rejected me to freeze your ass in the ocean. Great choice, by the way.""You know where you can shove that, Dean," Sam snapped but Dean just smirked up at the screen.The shift changed thirty minutes later, and Dean sent Cas down to pull the Impala around. That in and of itself spoke of how shaken up Dean was by Sam's recent experiences and of his lingering fear.Sam was dressing as quickly as he could—he was more than ready to be gone—when Dean cleared his throat."You want to take this with you?" He nodded his head towards the little bear. He was already balancing the notebook and a bag of food in his hands. The card from the Satos sat atop the notebook, but he was staring into the bear's beaded eyes with mistrust.Sam huffed as he began to button up his shirt. "What am I going to do with that?""I dunno, but it was probably ridiculously expensive. Hospital gift shops be that way, which kind of seems horrible if you stop to think about it.""I don't want it, but if you want it…or we can give it to the next kid that we traumatize." Sam shrugged into his jacket, watching with no little amusement as Dean made a face as he picked up the bear."Stuffed animals always creeped me out. They just stare at you.""Yeah, well, try not to take it personally.""Right. It's going into the trunk. You ready?" Dean looked around the room, making sure that they hadn't forgotten anything."Yeah."They slipped out the door, shutting it carefully behind them, and hurried to the elevator. Sam leaned against the back wall as the doors slid closed and folded his arms against his chest as they began to descend."You should keep this, though," Dean said quietly and seriously. Sam looked around to see him jabbing a finger at the card. "I read it, Sammy. This…this is why we always keep fighting, okay? Don't you forget that."Dean was searching his eyes, almost begging Sam to answer, to assuage his fears."I'm not giving up, I swear," Sam reassured Dean. It was the truth. The world—his life—was weighing more heavily on him recently, but he wasn't to the point of giving up, not yet. He had had much lower points than this.He would keep pushing forward until things got better or until the world broke him completely."Good." Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder, his hand lingering there for longer than was strictly necessary and Sam felt himself steady. Dean was right.They were in this together. And maybe they would fail and maybe the future held nothing for them but more heartache, but at least he wouldn't be alone…and that was comforting.