Tag to 'In my time of Dying'. For Alaina. This is a surprise for her and, as of such, totally unbeta'd so now you see what she has to work with, lol! It was just something that she had mentioned in passing and I thought it would make a contemplative drabble. So here it is. I hope you like it. Spoilers for 'In My Time of Dying' of course.

The Wedge

The wood was cold.

Beneath his fingers it felt rough.

Not like the first time he used it.

The first time the board seemed to vibrate; humming and buzzing warmly against his touch.

And smooth, it was oh so smooth; like the fragile silk of a butterfly's wings.

But not this time.

This time it felt – dead.

It wasn't going to work. He knew it but he was stubborn.

His father's son.

His brother's brother.

He would try again. He had too.

For both of them.

Sam waited patiently until he heard his brother leave out Bobby's back door. He closed his eyes and allowed his senses to buck and flow, mentally following Dean as the older man purposefully crossed the junk yard to where the beloved Impala was laid out, her body bared painfully, another Winchester casualty. Her husk, symbolic and tragic.

Bobby tinkered nearby.

He waited until he was sure his brother had slid back under the metallic corpse of his retreat; Dean once again hiding himself from the world.

From Sam.

With a weighted sigh, the young hunter knew it was time...

The young man's long fingers hovered above the wooden wedge. A pianist preparing to play a triangle shaped little piece; waiting to be guided by the beyond.

Sam hesitated. His heart rate picked up. He shivered but he knew he had to do this now.

For his brother.

Again.

Dean was falling apart; on emotional lock-down and it terrified Sam in a way nothing else could. He didn't know what to do to help his staggering brother when he was barely holding it together himself. Their father was dead; the great John Winchester, gone.

The man was supposed to be insuperable.

John Winchester, invincible.

Dad –

Sam inhaled deeply and shook his head.

Grow up Sam, he mentally berated. Dad was just a man. Men die all the time... Dean, focus on Dean.

He had used this very board to contact Dean when his brother had been in a coma, and tried to use it again after their father had been pronounced dead; tethered with a fragile hope that he could somehow reach their father and pull him back.

Sam had called, yelled, begged -

But his father didn't answer, no one had.

It hurt.

Hell it still did.

But this was for Dean.

And for his brother he'd try again.

Clearing his throat, Sammy called out softly, desperately, his voice a whisper of cold across warm lips, "Dad? Are you here...?"

His fingers hovered just above the wedge.

Waiting.

Hoping.

For something. For anything...

"Please?"

And then the wedge began to move.

The end