A/N: You want it you got it, the sequel to "A Long Winter's Night" and the third in my little mini-series has arrived!

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Alas, I do not own Supernatural... yet... buahahaaa...

All That's Left

By: Ada C. Eliana

Chapter 1: What now?

"Blessed is he who loves his brother as much when he is sick and useless as when he is well and can be of service to him. And blessed is he who loves his brother as well when he is far off as when he is by his side, and who would say nothing behind his back he might not, in love, say before his face." St Francis of Assisi

Dean sat in the dark watching Sam sleep. It seemed to be all he did lately. After their reunion on Christmas Eve, both of them had completely slept through Christmas Day, and then into Christmas night. The Canadians were finished putting away their decorations by the time Dean had woken up on the 26th.

But Sam… he just kept sleeping. Dean would wake him up, and Sam would lazily respond, eating when Dean made him, showering when he told him to, but he was so lethargic that he would just fall asleep afterwards; no talking, barely even acknowledging that he had seen Dean at all. It wasn't exactly how Dean had imagined it; it was barely like having Sam there at all; he had to keep reminding himself that Sam really was there.

Dean chalked it up to the intense stress Sam must have been under, maybe his body and his mind just needed time to heal. Of course that got his mind wandering as to what had happened to Sam. He hadn't even had the chance to get a proper look at his brother yet, make sure he was okay. And he would feel incredibly awkward checking him over while he was asleep; he wouldn't want to violate Sam's trust either. So he would just have to wait.

And ever since Dean had woken up he had just watched Sam, afraid that if he took his eyes off of him for a moment he would stop breathing or something. Sam always slept on his side or his back, stretched out, taking up as much space as possible. When they were younger they had to share the beds in the cheap motels their father stopped in, and Dean had gotten used to being shoved to the edge of the mattress in the night. But now Sam was sleeping different; curled up, as if he were trying to become small and invisible; as if he were protecting himself from something. But at least he didn't seem to be having any nightmares, and for that Dean was incredibly thankful.

His vigil over his brother gave him time to muse over everything that had happened. When Sam had appeared in that parking lot, Dean had been too overwhelmed to think. He could tell immediately that Sam was different. The way he deflected Dean's questions with sarcasm and downcast eyes was a warning bell in Dean's head right away. It had been over two years since they had last seen each other, and it was clear that Sam had been through something; perhaps something horrifying. Dean didn't know how he would be able to help Sam. If his little brother opened up to him, what would he hear? Sam had said he was afraid Dean would be mad at him, and Dean knew Sam meant for more than just taking off like he had. But he also knew that no matter what he would always be in Sam's corner; there was nothing he could have done that would change the way Dean felt about him.

Dean also had to realize that he had changed as well. Three years ago he would never have shown such affection towards his brother; hanging onto him like a lifeline. No, both brothers were different now, and that meant that things had changed; it would never be like it was before.

It had been a long two years and seven months since the car wreck in Missouri; Dean was acutely aware of that. The nights he laid awake, his mind forcing him to imagine Sam dying horrible deaths or just plain suffering had just made it seem twice as long. And considering that he had all but given up on Sam just a couple days ago, he could honestly never thought they would be here; as imperfect as it was.

Every now and then he would drift off, and then abruptly snap back to reality, his eyes searching the room for Sam as if he were about to realize everything had just been some crazy dream. But there his brother would be, snoozing away in the bed, that annoying hat still on his head.

Dean was broken from his thoughts when Sam suddenly began to tremble in his sleep, muttering something under his breath. Dean rose from the chair, quickly sitting beside Sam on the bed and shaking him to wake him up. "It's okay, Sammy, just wake up, okay? Sam, come on man, don't do this to yourself," Dean whispered as Sam's body shook and his mutterings became more fervent. This was the first nightmare Dean had seen Sam have since he had returned, and while he had expected it to happen, it still unnerved him. He pulled Sam up, Sam's back to Dean's chest, and put his arms around him. "Sammy, come on, you're okay," Dean said into his ear. Finally Sam stopped trembling, and his eyes flicked open. For the first time since Christmas Eve Sam looked at Dean and actually saw him.

"Dean?" he asked; his voice as hoarse as it had been days ago. Dean really wanted to ask him about that, but he knew it would have to wait.

"Yeah? You okay?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as light as possible.

"Uh… yeah… yeah I'm fine," he whispered unconvincingly. He scrubbed a hand over his face and blinked a couple of times, trying to push the tantalizing lull of sleep away. "How long was I asleep?" he questioned uncertainly, staring up at Dean's face from his lower vantage point, feeling a bit awkward that Dean hadn't released him yet.

"A while," Dean replied tensely.

"Oh… sorry…"

"It's okay." God, did Sam always have to apologize for everything?

"So… what now?"

"Well, what do you want to do? Anyplace you want to go?" Dean asked. Honestly he had asked himself the same question 'what now?' numerous times, and he never could come up with an answer. It all came down to what Sam wanted.

He seemed to think about it for a moment, or maybe he was just mustering up the courage to say it, but when he finally spoke, Dean couldn't say he was surprised at the answer.

"California," Sam whispered, and it sounded like a prayer.

"California," Dean seconded, and even though Sam didn't say the next part out loud, Dean heard him loud and clear – "Jess."

A/N: Longer chapters to come. Tell me what you think!

See ya,

Ada