Hello everyone. This is my third one-shot for Supernatural. I've been trying to keep myself busy while waiting for season two. Is it September yet? The opening lines are from a song that has kept me patient. I hope you enjoy the fic, and that you will leave a review stating your thoughts. :) Thanks for all the support and inspiration! It really means a lot. Lots of love - Curlybear

I wish

Wishing for you to find your way

And I'll hold on for all you need

That's all we need to say.

- Goo Goo Dolls – Let Love In

Vanquishment

It was raining outside. A blanket of rushing water covered the streets and the smell of wet asphalt filled the damp air. It had been warm, but the temperature had abruptly dropped. The day was getting older, darker too, but the stars painted on the inky sky made Sam feel a little warmer. So he turned towards them, attempting to absorb their comfort. In the end, it did not help much. The soothing feeling dissolved quickly, over and over again. He sighed.

Sam stiffly sat up to stare more intently out of the window. Pensiveness swept over him. Not only that, but impatience swirled through him, slowly developing into a mild worry; for his determined and persistent brother. He thought about what had happened earlier, the events that had unfolded.

"Get back. You're hurt. I'll finish this." Dean more or less ordered, grasping his hand and carefully helping him stand.

"I'm not leaving. I can still-" Sam managed to say before stumbling into Dean's arms. His big brother grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, hindering his fall. He straightened him, before carefully leading him to the car. Sam couldn't feel anything, he could only feel the darkness overtaking him.

He had more or less forcibly taken him back to the motel. They were not far away so it did not take long before Sam was in his bed, gently dumped there by his ever so overprotective brother, but Dean would never voice that aloud. Instead, he relentlessly barked orders, albeit softly.

"Just wait here. That son of a bitch drained all your energy, so it's best you rest up. Okay, sleeping beauty?"

"But Dean-"¨

"No buts... Stay here. I'll be right back, I promise. I'm just going to waste its ass."

Before Sam had the chance to argue, due to his exhaustion, Dean had exited, locking the door behind him. Darkness had slowly and unwillingly covered his vision, and when he woke up, he did not know how long he had been out.

The moment Sam had opened his heavy eyes, he felt cold. He felt empty, and without his brother, he felt alone. He never doubted in Dean's strength, but the spirit they were pursuing was a tough bastard, and he could not help but feel concerned.

What if something happened to Dean?

Sam cursed, unconsciously stroking his own arms for warmth, but it was futile. His own bed felt hard and useless... It only brought a sense of coldness and... Hollowness... The rain was not helping either; it only strengthened everything. All his suppressed feelings streamed through him, collided, and suddenly, he felt a tear roll down his cheek. His hazel eyes drifted casually to Dean's bed, and a thought struck him. He was drawn to it, knew it would bring him a consistent comfort.

He hesitantly slipped into the other bed, sinking under the covers. It smelled faintly of leather, of cologne and of... Dean... He felt calmer, and the tenseness in his body eased a little. Somehow, lying in his bed filled him with a certainty that Dean would return. It gave him a kind of reassurance and safety. Although he felt a little warmer, the solitude still compressed him, and he could not vanquish it.

Their father was gone, and they could not find him. The hunt was an endless road of difficulty, of death, of danger, but when they were together, the weight felt lighter, as if they were sharing the pain. But now, Dean had left and Sam did not know if he was safe. So, now that he was alone, he carried all of that weight, and it was dragging him down... He could not come up for air...

"Sam?"

Startled, Sam looked up, his gaze meeting Dean's green eyes. They were clear, pulling him back up. Immediately, everything suddenly felt lighter, because Dean was back... Back, to share the weight.

Sam tried to say something, but his voice was gone. He sat up, the covers still around him like a cocoon.

"Well, that spirit really did a number on you, huh?" Dean joked softly, sitting down on Sam's bed.

Sam did not answer; he was too busy surveying Dean, checking for concealed injuries. Although he was soaking wet, he seemed fine.

Sam had forgotten that it was raining outside.

"What the hell are you doing in my bed?" Dean asked, dumbfounded. He briefly pointed accusingly at Sam, before displaying a warm smirk.

"I... uh... When did you get back?" Sam asked, still a little dazed.

"Man, are you spaced out." Dean commented.

"Sorry... I, uh... just sort of ended up here, and zoned out." Sam whispered, smiling weakly.

"Yeah, you did not even notice me come in. I'm offended." Dean added, still a humorous tone to his voice. However, his eyes suddenly radiated a calm seriousness, which Sam noticed immediately. And then Dean gave him that look. That worried, "is my little brother alright" look.

"You okay, man?" Dean asked. Sam pondered this; he had recently felt alone and vulnerable, and the concern for his brother's safety, for their still missing father, had driven him crazy. He had been shivering. The coldness had gradually diminished when he had crept under the sheets. However, it had still vaguely lingered around him, like a corona. When Dean arrived, it had melted away...

"I am now." Sam said, genuinely. And he really was. Dean was back, safe and sound, helping him vanquish all the negative crap. He looked up and met Dean's calm eyes, filled with a streaming reassurance that reached Sam. Dean's smirk softened into something called an appreciative and warm smile. They remained silent for a moment, just reading each other's eyes. It was all written there anyway.

"Good..." Dean whispered, relieved. He had obviously understood Sam, even with so little words, but that's just how they functioned.

"If you wanted to sleep in my bed, all you had to do was ask." Dean said, mockingly, breaking the "touchy" moment fluidly, which was so damn typical. But that was normal too. Sam shook his head, a large grin appearing on his face as he innocently tossed a pillow at Dean.

Dean caught it with ease, before casually placing it on the vacant bed.

"Aw, thanks Sammy." He joked, realizing that he had the comfortable advantage of two pillows. Sam, understanding this, just smiled and dropped his head against his one pillow.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Later, Dean literally jumped in bed, sliding under the covers, immediately consuming the warmth that he inevitably found there. Sam turned off the lights.

"Good night, Sammy." Dean said, lying on his stomach, his face towards Sam. It was such an automatic position.

Sam smiled, and whispered: "Good night, big brother."

And he truly was fine, because despite everyone else, Dean kept his promises.

"I'll be right back, I promise."

That is what Dean had said.

And Sam had believed him. And always would.

The End...