It was a normal Thursday morning unlike any other.

Dean woke sleepily muttering "morning Sammy" with the little energy that had managed to wake with him. Dean enjoyed waking to find Sam snuggled close to him. He never used to be the snuggling type, but Sammy just did that to him. There where many things that having Sam back had done to dean, but most importantly Sam had made him more affectionate. He kissed Sam in the store, he hugged Sam at the library, hell he even held hands with Sam as they where searching for spooks in the woods last week.

So when Dean woke to feel no hot breath on his neck and no Sam-shaped limbs intertwined with his own he felt a flash of disappointment. It wasn't that dean was disappointed with his brother, he could never be disappointed with Sammy, definitely not after he looked into those puppy dog eyes. No. This was a whole different version of disappointment; this was not getting what he wanted. You're just selfish Dean told himself in his half roused state.

"What's for breakfast then princess" dean called sarcastically as he sat up and allowed his eyes to adjust to the sun beaming through the streaky motel window. Taking the lack of a response as one of Sammy's morning moods Dean smiled to himself pulling on a clean pair of jeans and one of his many plain black shirts. "I asked, what's for breakfast princess?" Dean mused again as he opened the door to the tiny kitchen.

Sam hated whenever Dean would call him princess. Love muffin or any of the other nicknames his brother found to be hilarious, he could deal with. Just, not princess.

Dean moved slowly around the half open door, just waiting for Sam to throw something at him. "Sammy? Where are you?" Dean asked in a drone of childish banter with a playful smirk appearing across his face. When there was no response again Dean opened the door fully and walked over to help himself to a glass of water.

As he stood there leaning against the counter staring into the living/bedroom, taking short sips of icy cold water, Dean could have sworn he just seen a ghost, on his bed. "That's odd" dean quietly said to himself.

They had been in this motel a couple of weeks now and hadn't seen anything. So He went to investigate walking a few step out of the kitchen, and there it was again, but stood up this time, staring at Dean. Just a flicker but. Wait a second. Was that Sam? A cool rush of air blasted past, causing dean to turn on the spot. His eyes looked around but there was nothing. Just as he was about to turn back, letters began to appear on the large hanging mirror. D-E-A-N H-E-L-P S-A-M .

FUCK! NO! Dean's head started to spin, what is happening? What am I going to do? His blood started to pump faster and faster as the beating of his heart pounded louder and louder. Thoughts swirling in his head, what if he is dead? What if my Sammy is dead?

On the completion of the last question in his head a tear rolled down his left cheek, he was trying to hold back but it was no good. The thoughts that he might be dead, his brother, his lover, his princess, was too much.

Because that was the thing, you see, even though Sam thought Dean called him princess just to piss him off, Dean meant it. Sammy was his princess and he was price charming, the only one who was always going to be there to save the day. The only one who could keep his princess safe.

He fell to the floor, just, staring. Then he felt it, a cold sensation on his lips and neck. Dean knew what it was, it was Sammy. "I promise I will save you" dean whimpered, his breath broken. There it was again, the cold, pressing against his mouth ever so slightly.

Dean sat there, just for a second, tears still falling down his face, touching his lips, the lips that Sam, wherever, whatever or whenever he was, had just kissed.