Dean unlocked the motel room door to find the space inside empty.
"Sam?" No answer.
"Sammy?" Dean called a little louder. Still no answer. He was about to try Sam's cell phone when he heard something in the bathroom. Listening closer, he realized he was hearing… an iPod?
"Sam, you in there?" Dean knocked on the bathroom door, but his brother wasn't answering. Trying the knob, Dean found it unlocked, and he opened the door to the sight of Sam, curled up in a corner next to the bathtub, asleep with the iPod blasting away.
"What the hell?" Dean muttered as he knelt and gently took the headphones off of Sam, putting them to his ears out of curiosity in time to hear the words
And it feels, yeah it feels like Heaven is so far away…
It wasn't until then that he noticed the traces of tears on Sam's face – a lot of tears, very fresh tears. Dean knew it was about Jess. It was always Jess, and he didn't know how to fix it.
"Oh, Sammy," Dean bowed his head, allowing himself to feel the entirety of his helplessness for a moment, before picking up his brother as best he was able and depositing him on the bed. Sam would probably be out for most of the night, and Dean figured that would give him enough time to find a hunt good enough to distract his brother from Jess for a little while. He stayed up most of the night sifting through papers.
The next morning Sam didn't pay any attention to Dean's suggestions, instead drawing the same tree over and over. Suddenly he stopped, rifled through one of their duffel bags, and pulled out a photo.
"I know where we have to go."
AN: The Book of John and Fleur de Lys do NOT want to be written these past 2 weeks, sorry!