When I Find You, I Find Me

by Dragonflysoul

He had no flashlight, nor even a path to guide his way. All Dean had was the moonlight and an instinct he had learned before he was five years old not to ignore. Takes place somewhere during the beginning of 7x02 "Hello, Cruel World."

Title: When I Find You, I Find Me

Author: dragonfly

Rating: PG

Word count: 2,700

Tags: gen, drama, h/c, limp!Sam, BigBrotherDean

Pairing: None

Warning: None

Summary: He had no flashlight, nor even a path to guide his way. All Dean had was the moonlight and an instinct he had learned before he was five years old not to ignore. Takes place somewhere during the beginning of 7x02 "Hello, Cruel World."

A/N: An oldie I dusted off and decided to post. Basically, this is just another excuse for me to have the boys cuddle. I'm not sorry ;) I hope you enjoy! Thank you!

~*~SPN~*~

The pendulum on the clock swung. Back and forth it kept time in the dark room. No one heard it—the passing of time, despite the silence of the late hour, but everyone felt it. It pressed down on them even in sleep.

/ "You know that he's not real, right?"

"He says the same thing about you."/

A desk lamp shone its small light on two slumped forms, an empty bottle of Jack and three days worth of research and desperation.

/ "I can't hold them back!"

"What?"

"The leviathan!"/

Bobby sat passed out on the couch, book on his chest and glasses askew. And head resting on his arms at a desk that has seen better years, Dean lightly snored. It was a sleep induced by as much alcohol as exhaustion, and offered more escape than actual rest, but one would take what one could get.

And then, there was holding onto what you had.

Arm jerking, Dean sat up in his seat, instantly awake. He didn't notice the empty glass he'd hit rolling across the table and landing on the floor with a loud thud, but Bobby did and woke with a start. "What is it?" he asked as the younger man's body tensed. Bobby didn't think it was possible, but he stiffened even more. "Sam," was all he said before he was up and running out the door.

Stumbling after, Bobby came to an abrupt stop on the porch behind him; already breathless from adrenaline. "Dean?"

Dean was staring off into the night looking, listening, hell maybe even in a way feeling. The last the both of them had seen Sam was two hours ago when Dean had thrown another blanket over him upstairs. Bobby was about to go back in and check on him when Dean tore off for the woods like hell hounds were on his ass.

"Son of a bitch." Hurrying back inside, Bobby grabbed a weapon. He didn't bother checking on Sam. He knew he wasn't there. Dean's Sammy-Senses were tingling, and that meant the kid was in trouble.

~*~SPN~*~

He had no flashlight, nor even a path to guide his way. All Dean had was the moonlight and an instinct he had learned before he was five years old not to ignore.

Sam needed him.

His strides were long and steady, his feet sure and quick as he leapt over rocks and veered between the trees. There was an urgent tugging within him, a pulling and it wouldn't stop until he was at his brother's side.

Skidding to a stop at a small lake, he panted into the cool night. "Sam!" he called, peering across the water and along its edges. "Sammy!" He was there. He could feel it.

He could faintly hear Bobby calling out their names, when something out towards the middle of the lake caught Dean's eye. "Sam," he breathed, horror washing over him. Running to the water's edge, "Sam!" he cried before diving into its chilling embrace.

~*~SPN~*~

He didn't notice the strain of his muscles, nor the ache in his chest as his heart pounded and his legs kicked, but it felt like an eternity before he reached his brother's side.

"Sam!" Fisting the fabric over his shoulders, Dean rolled him onto his back in the water. Immediately checking for a pulse, he found one, but he wasn't— "Sam!" he cried, shaking him hard.

Sam lurched and started coughing in his grasp. "Easy, easy," Dean soothed shakily, "you're okay. I got you. You're okay."

"Dean!" Bobby called, sounding as frantic as Dean had ever heard him.

He glanced over his shoulder at the shore, then wrapping an arm around his brother's still heaving chest, pulled him in against him and started swimming for solid ground. He needed to get him out of the water. He needed to get him dry and warm. He needed to check him for injuries.

He needed to figure out what the hell had happened.

~*~SPN~*~

Though Sam didn't resist, he didn't help much either. Trembling fingers grasped weakly with uncertainty at Dean's arm as he swam them to safety. "Stay with me, Sammy," he ordered more than once.

Finally able to feel the shore beneath his feet, Dean pulled Sam upright, and Bobby splashed into the water to help take on some of the taller man's weight. Sam was like a limp noodle, Dean was breathless from exertion and cold, and Bobby cursed when all three of them landed in a frozen heap just beyond the water. He immediately took off his flannel shirt and placed it over Sam to block out some of the wind. "I'm gonna get the truck. It'll be quicker."

Dean didn't even register him leaving. "Sammy?" Raking his eyes over him, checking for injuries visible in the moonlight, he tilted Sam's head back from where it had fallen against his chest and hastily brushed wet bangs from his eyes. That's when he found the sizable lump just above his temple. "Sam? Hey, can you hear me?"

Sam was shivering, but not as hard as Dean was—which worried him. He had no idea how long his brother had been in the water and it looked like his body wasn't fighting the cold as much as it should be. His breaths were quick and raspy, and his eyes were partially open but they weren't tracking anything—in fact, he looked paralyzed with fear.

Dean's stomach dropped. "Hey, hey, Sam look at me." He smoothed aside wet, unruly hair. "Sammy!"

With a full body shudder, Sam closed his eyes.

Then he started fighting.

Dean barely avoided getting a fist in the eye from his brother's frantic attempt to get away from him, but he held onto him anyway—afraid if he let go, he'd lose him in more ways than one. Pushing against him, Sam let out an awful keening sound that broke Dean harder and quicker than hell ever could. "Damnit, Sammy," he choked, wrapping his arms and legs around him and pulling him in against his chest. "It's not real. Whatever you're seeing, it's not real."

But Sam didn't hear him. He remained a victim to whatever horrors had him trapped in his mind. And eyes tightly closed, he continued to struggle and make sounds that tore Dean apart piece by piece.

"Come on, Sam," he pleaded, trying to fight the tremors coursing through his body as much as the fear that he wouldn't be able to reach his brother, wouldn't be able to bring him back from hell this time, "you're home, you're safe."

Headlights and the loud rumble of Bobby's old truck from the other side of the lake announced the hunter's imminent return, but did little to make Dean feel better. Closing his eyes, he buried his face in Sam's hair and begged thickly, "Come on, little brother. Come back to me."

~*~SPN~*~

Startling, he opened his eyes to find Bobby fussing over the two of them with a grim look on his face. He must have zoned out.

"Thank God," the older hunter said upon seeing Dean awake, "thought I was gonna have to carry the both of you."

Dean immediately looked down at Sam. His breaths were no longer frantic and he had stopped struggling.

"He's still pretty out of it," the man that had become like a surrogate father to them supplied, moving to help them both up. "Come on, let's get you two thawed out."

Sam's fingers absently found the chest pocket of Dean's shirt as he was pulled to his feet. Though he still hadn't spoken, Dean found the gesture reassuring. He was finding his way back.

They stumbled on uncooperative legs to the truck where Bobby had the heater set to high. Helping Sam in first, Dean settled in beside him and pulled him in close. He was dimly aware of Bobby tucking blankets around them hastily before getting in behind the wheel and spinning tire in the dirt to get them back to the house.

The entire way there, Dean ran his hand up and down Sam's arm and tried to convince him in every way a big brother could think of that he was safe, that he was home.

~*~SPN~*~

"Get out of those clothes," Bobby ordered as soon as he got them in the house. He pushed his desk away from the fireplace and immediately started working on getting a fire going.

Sam was looking more lost than fearful now and easily acquiesced to Dean's gentle nudging until he was sitting on the couch. They hadn't noticed any blood, but Dean was still eager to get a good look at him.

He had both of Sam's shirts off, a blanket wrapped around him and was kneeling at his feet taking off his shoes, when he felt fingers weakly grasping at the wet fabric over his own shoulder.

"Sam?" Reaching up, he cupped the side of the younger man's neck. "Hey, you with me?"

Brow furrowed, Sam's eyes searched Dean's, then darted frightened around them. "Dean?" The grip over his shoulder tightened.

"Yeah, it's me."

"s' cold," he mumbled in a voice so small that echoes of when he was younger dug into Dean's heart.

Before Dean could find his voice, Sam's face crumbled.

"Sammy?"

"Burns."

/ "Most people don't know this, but I burn cold, not hot."/

"Dean," Bobby called from next to the fireplace where he had placed a pile of blankets and pillows.

"He's still out of it, Bobby," Dean said, his own voice and body shaking as he rubbed Sam's trembling shoulder over the blanket. "He still thinks he's there, damnit."

"Come on." Bobby walked over and helped him get Sam to his feet, for which Dean was grateful. His adrenaline was starting to take a nose dive and he wanted them both changed and snug as a bug in a rug in front of the fire before that happened.

Between the two of them, they helped Sam step out of his jeans and into dry boxers. Then while Bobby guided Sam to sit in front of the fire, Dean made quick work of his own clothes and did the same. Grabbing another blanket, he then laid down next to his brother and opened his arms. "Come on, Sammy, time to cuddle."

Though he was slow and uncoordinated, Sam went without complaint or resistance—which told Dean how so very much out-of-it he still was. "Christ, he's freezing," he exclaimed when Sam curled up next to him and laid his head on his bare chest. Instead of shying away, though, Dean pulled him in closer.

"He's gonna need that bandage changed," Bobby said, talking about Sam's hand as he piled the blankets on over the both of them. "You find anything else I need to take care of?"

"He has a good size bump on his head." That was the only thing physically wrong with him that he could find, at least. "Bobby—" he started worried and hesitant.

"We'll figure it out," the older hunter cut him off gently. "Whatever your brother needs, we'll figure it out."

Dean swallowed thickly and pulled Sam closer still; wishing his arms alone could hold the broken pieces of him together. Sometimes…often, the weight of their responsibilities were too heavy for their shoulders and their losses too heavy for their hearts. But they never quit, they never fell under the weight. They kept going. Together.

But if this was it, if this was the straw that broke Sammy, then there would be nothing that could keep Dean from shattering too.

"Stop thinking like that," Bobby admonished gently, knowing where his thoughts were taking him. Maybe because his own were doing the same. Between Cas and the leviathan and Sam….

The seasoned hunter sighed. "We've been through worse, right?" Though, maybe it was hard to remember that when you were holding your seemingly broken little brother in your arms.

~*~SPN~*~

Despite Dean trying his damnedest, Sam hadn't responded to him in nearly an hour. He was shivering harder at least—which both of them took as a good sign, but his eyes remained either closed or distant. Still, he no longer looked scared, so they put that down in the win box, too. "He'll find his way back to you, son," Bobby reassured as he added more wood to the fire. "He always does."

Holding his brother close, Dean watched the flames and somehow found himself musing over the fact that despite how much they had changed over the years, and how much they have been worn down by the battles they constantly fought against the universe, and even each other—Sam still fit perfectly against him.

"Yeah," he finally rasped in response to Bobby's comment. And if Sam was ever too lost to find his way, then Dean would—

Sam shifted and when Dean looked down, he found bleary eyes looking back at him. "Hey," he whispered tentatively, almost afraid to hope. "You with me, Sam?"

Sam blinked sluggishly. It was a few moments before he finally spoke. "Wa's going on?" His voice sounded weak and ragged.

"We were hoping you could tell us, son," Bobby answered, hovering behind him.

"Cold."

Dean snorted softly. "Yeah, well, that's what happens when you take the polar plunge, kiddo."

Sam's frown deepened.

"Hey," Dean rubbed his hand across his back, attempting to keep him grounded. "Do you know where you are?"

Shifting slightly in Dean's arms again, he answered timidly, "Home?"

"Yeah," Dean grinned, throat tight with relief. "you're home."

Settling his head back on his brother's chest, Sam watched the fire. He was still shivering and clearly wasn't firing on all cylinders yet, but he was home in body and almost in mind and Dean could work with that.

Bobby excused himself to continue their research on the leviathan—but Dean was fairly certain he was making soup instead. He was starting to fall into a light doze when Sam asked mildly, "Cuddling?"

Without opening his eyes, he mumbled, "That's what you get for trying to turn yourself into a Samsicle."

He felt the tug of Sam's smile against his chest.

"Dean?" Though strength was starting to return to Sam's voice, the uncertainty remained.

"Hmm?"

"There was no light, was there."

Dean opened his eyes at that. He sighed sadly and with his own uncertainty. "I don't know, Sam," he answered honestly. "But we'll figure it out."

Sam was quiet again for a while. Dean was beginning to think he had drifted off to sleep when he asked softly, "How'd you find me?"

Dean didn't know what had Sam out there in the middle of that lake, in the middle of the night. He didn't know if they would be able to find a way to stop the leviathan. He didn't know what had happened to Cas. He didn't know what he was going to do, and he didn't know if Sam would ever be completely okay again….

But, there was one thing—one thing he knew without a doubt and with utter certainty since the moment his mother placed his baby brother in his arms for the very first time: if ever Sam were in trouble, if ever he needed Dean—

He thought back to everything they've been through: demons, angels, blood addiction, soullessness, hallucinations…whatever it was, it might take him awhile sometimes, but… "I'll always find you, Sammy," he answered steadily.

And in doing so, he realized, that's how he's always found himself.