Hello! Sorry for being away, but I finished another story... FINALLY. You guys know my warnings-

AU NO HUNTING
OLDER SAM
CAS AND GABRIEL ARE IN THIS ONE, BUT NO SLASH UNLESS YOU FANCY TO READ IT THAT WAY.

Hopefully you guys will enjoy~ USSA

OUTSIDERS POV

Gabe sighs, looking at the living room of his home with slight fondness.

There's a movie start-up menu on the screen of the TV, along with pillows and blankets everywhere. He just barely catches a glimpse of a black-haired boy and a blonde-haired boy beneath the makeshift 'fort' of blankets and pillows. He sets his jacket over the pole at the bottom of the stairs, setting his keys on a small table, before walking deeper into the living room. Gabriel quietly turns the television off, and turns to the lumps in the quilts. Cas is sprawled out all over the place, a hand peeking through the sheet he lay under. His head is tilted back, eyes shut, and a soft snore is coming from his slightly agape mouth. Dean is lying in a fetal position, head resting on his overlapping arms, sleeping quietly without a single sound. Gabe smiles sadly at the smaller boy, before turning out the living room light, and heading for his own room. Poor kid, Gabe thinks as he open his bedroom door. Dean wasn't technically related to either him or Cas, but he was close enough to consider the thirteen year old family.

Gabriel and Sam, both twenty-one now, had met when they were five, and they had hit it off immediately. They remained friends, and when they both got little brothers, they made plans for them to get along good as well. It had been almost TOO easy. Castiel and Dean had hit it off even faster than Gabriel and Sam had. From two babbling and cooing babies, to two thirteen year olds, each with the same personality. Until three years ago, that is. Three years ago Sam enlisted, and it tore Dean apart until he was just an empty shell of what he once was. Three years ago, Dean went from the sarcastic, always laughing and smiling, to Dean- a boy who never did more than a crooked half smile, and where you're lucky if you can even get him to talk more than a word. He lives with Gabe and Cas, and honestly? Gabe was glad when Sam asked him to take care if Dean first. Gabe, though he'd never admit it, loved that boy, as much as he loves Cas, (Not like he'd admit that, either).

Gabe groans, landing on his bed, it creaking with his weight. He turns the main light off, keeping a small lamp on next to the bed. Gabe shuts his eyes, but opens them again when the 'ping' of his cell phone goes off. He blinks, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and wincing only slightly at the brightness level. He unlocks the phone, going to his messages and reading the text, and blinking ion both surprise and confusion. 1734-790-5300... It's an unknown number.

'Open the friggin' door' Gabe pauses, before answering.

'Who is this?' it sends, and the stranger answers almost immediately.

'C'mon man.. I just want to see my little brother.' and with that, Gabe feels anger course through him. He had gotten calls, numerous calls, from the boys' school, saying that Dean had been getting picked on, and his phone was only worse. Many times in the middle of the night, Gabe had woken up to Dean bursting out the front door, looking around for Sam because he had gotten texts, saying- 'Hey little brother open the door!' Poor boy had always fallen for it the first few weeks it started happening, considering the little shits doing it used a different number each time. That quickened the pace of him becoming his shell-shelf now. Gabe snaps from his thoughts to text the asshole back.

'That kid has been through enough. He doesn't need any more trouble jackass' He sends it, and sits up on his bed, sighing. Kid can't catch a break, he though as he climbed out of bed, standing up and walking out his door. He gets to the kitchen, opening the fridge door and peering inside. Gabe settles on a water, closing the fridge door and turning, only to jump back in surprise.

"Jesus kid; scared the crap outta me," he breathes, chest still slightly heaving as he looks to Dean, who's standing there, wearing one of Sam's old, but still wearable, t-shirts. Gabe's heart clenches when his drowsy muddled brain catches up, and he comprehends what shirt it really is. It's the only one Sam left behind. The only thing, he left behind, it seemed. Besides the little brother that adores him, too, Gabe thinks bitterly. He soon shakes the thought from his mind, turning back to the boy he considered a second little brother.

"What you need, Bud?" he asks softly, and Dean only stands there, unmoving, looking up at Gabriel. The young man sighs, moving closer to the teenager. He grabs a dry-erase board they had bought for Dean, handing it to said boy, a marker as well. It takes a minute, but the boy complies, the slight squeak of the marker on the board signifying his writing. The blonde-haired boy soon after hands over the writing slate.

it's happening again. There's a pause, from Gabe, if he's being honest, not understanding. Dean takes out his phone, handing it to Gabe. He understands immediately after that. He unlocks the phone, reading the messages. He feels anger very, very quickly. It's the same number that he had been conversing with only moments ago, in his room.

"Dean, go on off to bed, 'kay?" the boy nods slowly, shuffling towards the room he and Cas shared. Gabe waits until the door shuts, before he texts the number back from Dean's phone.

'You really are a piece of shit, aren't you?' he sends it, not even knowing what it will accomplish. I should just call the cops, he thinks, but the phone vibrates, and he opens the message.

'Open the door, Gabe. Open. The. Door.'

Gabe hesitates, biting his lip. Can it really be him? After three years without a word? The sandy-haired man sighs, shoving the phone in his back pocket and heading for the door. He hesitates once more when he reaches the door. Hand hovering over the handle, he bites his lip once again, before unlocking the door. Cold air hits him immediately, and when he breathes out, his breath can be seen from the sky, it rising until Gabe can't tell where his breath ended and the winter air began.

"Hello?"

"Took you long enough; I'm freezing my ass off out here," a voice laughs. A... familiar voice, laughed. A... very, familiar laughed...

"Sam? Is that you?" a man's silhouette can be seen to Gabriel's right, and when he turns to see better, the man moves to the better lighting.

"Sam," Gabe grins, walking forward and wrapping his arms around the taller man, and Sam laughs, lifting him off his feet.

"Good to know you're protective of my little brother," Sam smiles, hugging Gabe again, before releasing him. Gabe couldn't tell you why, but he suddenly felt anger bubble up inside him. And for the first time in a long time in those three years, it was pointed directly at Sam. Mad at Sam, for leaving. Mad at Sam, for giving them all just a hug and a measly, 'goodbye', when he was shipped off. Mad at him for going in the first place. And the more he thought, the angrier he got when his mind turned to Dean and Cas. Cas and Dean, who were both frigging heartbroken, when Sam left. Dean and Cas, who's friendship, albeit strong, was slowly wavering when Dean stopped talking more than two words. DEAN, who WON'T FRIGGIN TALK ANYMORE, because HE THOUGHT SAM WAS DEAD! Gabe is shaking with rage by now, and when Sam touches his shoulder, face flooded with concern, he shrugs off the hand.

"Go fixed what you caused; because you have NO idea, what that boy has been through," Gabe shakes his head, glaring at Sam, who has gone from worried to confused.

"NONE," he turns, heading for the door, when a huge hand grabs his wrist, pulling him back around.

"Gabriel, wait," Gabe sighs, slightly annoyed, but does, in fact, wait.

"I know I left, and I know I left you with two growing boys," Sam starts, but hesitates for a minute. Biting his lip, Sam continues.

"But, I don't know what's happened these past three years," There's sorrow in his voice, mixed with guilt. The tone of his voice makes Gabe keep quiet, and wait.

"Gabe, please' I need to know what happened," then, Sam does what he knows will have saying, 'yes'. He pulls out the puppy-dog eyes, full throttle. Gabe groans, shutting his eyes in attempt to block out the look, but to no avail.

"Oh fine! Fine! Goddammit put those away," Sam grins triumphantly, blinking, and the second he opens his eyes again, the kicked-puppy look is gone. Gabe sighs, trying for annoyed, but the fondness of this is so damn familiar, he can't help but to smile. He's missed this. The shorter of the two checks his watch, turning back to his friend.

"You gotta place to stay the night?" the taller man nods, pointing to a few blocks away, at a sleazy Motel Six. The snarkier of the two, also the shortest, nod in acceptance. That'll do for a night or two. For the next few minutes, they make up a plan for tomorrow. By the time Gabriel is shutting the front door behind him, and Sam is shutting his crooked motel door behind himself, they're both grinning like idiots. Some things never change.-

The routine for Gabe, Cas, and Dean is the same as it usually is; wake up, wake up boys, get them ready, out the door, and onto the bus. Gabe had let Cas know the whole deal, and by the time Dean was fully awake and ready to go, Castiel was just able to contain his excitement. The second the bus was out of sight, Gabe was already dialing.

"They gone?"

"Yep,"

"On my way," It was probably one of the most longest waits Gabe had ever needed to wait through, (although it was only fifteen minutes). When Sam go there, the pleasantries were shirt, and they were soon sitting across from each other, staring. It was silent, both though for different reasons. Sam, because he thought Gabe wanted to start, and the fact that he didn't know how to start. Gabe, because he did, in fact, want to start, but didn't know how to start off. In the end, Gabe runs a hand down his face, before looking at Sam.

"When..." he starts, taking a deep breath.

"When you first... Left, Dean he, he was lost," Gabe looks away, from Sam for a minute, but he can still feel his long-time friend's eyes on him, tracking his every move. When he looks back to the taller man, hazel meets hazel, and the only difference of those eyes, was that one showed hesitation, the other showed concern and worry.

"Dean... After a week or so... After you left... he," Gabe bites his lip, hating having to relive this. Sam pales, breath catching in his throat.

"Oh god... He... H-he's gone?" Sam whispers, and Gabe looks at him, mouth open in shock.

"What? No! No! Sam, no; he's still here," Gabe quickly reassures him, and Sam's body and fear relaxes. The lighter haired man quickly continues.

"A week after you left, he stopped talking; never smiles, never spoke, louder than a murmur when talk talking was necessary," he pauses, putting a hand on his friend's arm for a try of comfort.

"He became a zombie, Sam, a living corpse," Sam shudders his breath, trying no to think of his brother like that. Dean, when Sam was around, was always throwing jokes like he needed it to survive. Always trying to get a rise out of anyone. Happy-go-lucky. He's torn from his thoughts when his friend's voice enters his ears.

"Castiel and I, we tried everything, anything, to get him to talk; he never said anything above a whisper when he did, and no more than five words at a time," Sam wants to say something. Wants to hug and comfort his friend, and say something reassuring. 'It's okay,' or 'It'll be alright,'. But he can't; because he doesn't think he can fix it. So Sam stays quiet, while Gabriel keeps the story moving along.

"His grades got lower, he stopped eating a lot, barely got enough sleep on a GOOD day," Gabe's mind flashes to the countless nights he heard Cas try to comfort Dean to sleep, and the nights he did it himself.

"Wasn't very long before people started noticing," Sam couldn't help but to narrow his eyes. Dean was usually a popular kid. Not a grade-A douche, but a nice one. That didn't mean he never got picked on before...

"Teachers tried to get his grades back up, but to no real avail. Other boys and their girls would mess with him; not so much physically as they did mentally, but," Gabe cuts off, sighing in remembrance of the few times the school called, asking for him to pick the green-eyed boy up. He glances at Sam and isn't surprised at what he sees. His jaw is clenched, eyes shut tight. Sam's hands are balled into tight fists, so hard his fingers are cracking. Gabe doesn't try to calm him. He continues.

"He's broken, Sam; Dean is broken and I cannot help him, Cas can't help him," Sam takes a shaky breath, looking to Gabe with tears in his eyes.

"What do we do?"

"It's not what WE do, it's what YOU do," when Sam looks at him again, Gabe squeezes his arm.

"Only you can fix your brother, Sam," he says quietly, and Sam nods, wiping his eyes from tears that fell.

"How?" he whispers, and turns his eyes to his friend, pleading. They share eye contact, and for awhile, all they do is stare. Gabe breaks the silence.

"Tomorrow, after Dean and Cas get out of school," he starts quietly, looking at Sam. Sam leans in a bit, listening with interest.

"Principal required Dean to see a therapist; thinking it would help," Sam feels guilt flow through him, and not for the first time. I never should've left... None of this would've happened if he hadn't enlisted..

"So tomorrow, after school, that's where he'll be," Gabe pauses, taking a deep breath.

"Sam, you're going to therapy," For the first time in a long time, Sam laughs, long and loud. And it feels good.

Sam had stayed at the same motel that night, leaving ten minutes before Gabriel had to pick up the boys.-

By the time Gabe had Sam caught up on literally everything, there was twenty-five minutes left to Dean's therapy. Sam drove in Gabe's car, almost crashing when Cas popped up in the back seat, scaring the hell out of him. Taking time he didn't have to throw him out of the car, the second Cas was out, the car door was shut and Sam was speeding off, towards the building. It took two minutes to get there, and thirty seconds to find the room Dean was in. Sam looked through the window, taking everything in. Dean was taller, much taller, than he was three years ago. His hair was a darker shade of blonde, and he was filling out well. Sam couldn't see his face, but could tell he was tense, waiting to bolt, per se. There was a small window with holes in it, to hear, and Sam stayed quiet to listen in.

"Dean, you've been coming to me for almost three years now," the soft tone of the woman didn't ease Sam's guilt away. Three years? Dean had been going to her since I first left? Sam shook the thoughts off for right then, and continued to listen.

"You can trust me with your thoughts; it's alright to talk here," Sam, and what looked like the lady, held their breath, hoping he'd say something. When nothing happens, they both sigh, whether or not for the same reason, neither would ever know. Sam squints through the glass, and sees that the woman is of two things.

1. Her name was Becca.

2. 'Becca' was writing something down. Wondering what she was writing was cut short through Sam's mind, however, when she speaks again.

"Tell me about your brother?" Big brother in question watched as Dean tensed up even more, and looked anywhere but Becca. Sam bit his lip, wondering if he should go in, or...

"He's in Afghanistan, for..." she trails off, looking down at a file, making Sam want to burn it. She sorts through paper after paper, obviously looking for something.

"Three years," a hoarse, yet quiet whisper seemed to echo through the room, causing Becca's head to snap up in shock.

'What?" Dean points to a paper on the edge of the desk, and Becca grabs it, quickly scanning it over.

"Oh, of course; three years, yes, thank you," Dean barely nods in reaction. She bites her lip.

"Do you miss him?" There's a rather long pause, and Sam holds his breath. Dean nods eventually, but the woman asks it again, demanding an ANSWER, not a headshake. There isn't a shorter pause, but there is a longer answer.

"Every day," the voice is still very quiet, and sounds like he's swallowed jagged knives that got lodged in his throat, but his answer's there. Out loud and clear to an extent. Sam desperately wants to walk in, but hesitates. What if he doesn't want to see me? Sam stays where he is, too nervous to go in, but too determined to leave. Becca is smiling softly now, obviously surprised with the amount Dean had spoken. He doesn't answer more questions, whether or not for a reason, no one but him knew. At the last five minutes, the woman asks one more question, and Sam listens.

"Do you want to see him?" Dean doesn't hesitate to nod. Becca opens her mouth to speak, but pauses. Dean flicks his gaze over to her when she stumbles with her words, and his eyes narrow slightly. Sam holds his breath, hand on the door knob, ready to intervene. She speaks before he can.

"With... Your 'problem'," she swallows. "Have you ever though of going to an institution?" She speaks quickly, but slow enough that Dean can understand what she's saying. It's quiet, and once Sam registers what she was saying, he can't take it. He turns the handle, pulling the door open walking inside.

"He's not going anywhere," he breathes, and both Dean and Becca jump and swirl around, eyes widening at the sight of him. Neither of them move. Becca doesn't know who he is.

"Sir, he won't talk willingly, that's considered-" she breaks off when Dean's chair scrapes across the floor, him standing. He never takes his eyes off Sam.

"Anyway, he does-" "Sam?" Dean's voice, for once, is louder than hers, cutting her off vocally this time. Sam watches Becca's eyes as they widen in slight realization, but makes no other move. Sam takes a small step forward, and when Dean doesn't step away, makes another.

"Dean," he breathes softly, watching as his brother's breath hitches, shoulders shaking with each release. Dean takes a small step forward, before taking another.

"Sam... You're home," his voice cracks, but Sam knows it isn't just from lack of use. Neither of them notice Becca when she leaves the room, but the quiet 'click' of the door makes them realize they're alone.

"Dean," with that one word, Dean breaks out of whatever stupor he'd been in, and runs at Sam. The eldest doesn't hesitate, and wraps his arms around frail shoulders, one arm around his waist. Sam keeps an arm around his brother's waist, and quickly wraps the other in the same place, before lifting Dean off the ground, spinning him around close to his chest. In response, Dean chokes on a sob, burying his face in the crook of Sam's neck. Sam tightens his grip on his little brother. He can't help but to smile against the cloth on Dean's shoulder, shutting his eyes; savoring the moment.

"I missed you," the quiet whisper had Sam opening his eyes again, looking at the top of Dean's head, it being the only part his face he could see. He lifts a hand, it now cradling the back of the blonde-haired boy's head.

"I missed you, too,: he says quietly, running a hand through the soft locks of light hair. Arms wrap around his waist, as he sets Dean down, but neither ready to leave the comfort of the embrace afterwards.

"Are you gonna leave me again?" his voice is above the usual whisper, louder with fear and nervousness. Fear of him leaving again. Fear of being abandoned. Sam shakes his head, puling Dean away to arms length to make direct eye contact.

"No bud," Dean lifts his gaze, eyes slightly bright and hoping. Sam moves his bangs from his forehead.

"I ain't gonna leave again," Sam promised, and when Dean went and hugged Sam again, head resting against a broad chest, Sam knew Dean believed him.

[-]

SIX months later, and Sam was able to keep that promise. They settled back to the old old routine, as if Sam had never left. Dean still couldn't sleep some nights, waking up in cold sweat and thinking Sam being home just a dream. Only Sam could calm him from those nights, but neither would want it any other way. Dean talks a lot more, still quiet and voice getting less rugged with more use. He's almost back to his average weight. And back to smiling and making the jokes again. That had probably been the happiest day for Sam, Gabe, and Cas since Sam had come home. It meant he was getting better. It meant they were getting their Dean back.

The four of them had gone to the mall earlier, grabbing movies for sale at random, before heading home. It was something they had done for as long as any of them could remember. They put in the movie Cas had chosen first, it turning out to be Captain America; The Winter Soldier. They all sat down to watch, Dean and Cas in the middle, Sam and Gabe on either side of them. By the end credits of the movie, the two youngest boys were asleep, each leaning against the other to keep their heads up. When the screen goes black, the eldest two men picked up each boy, Sam had Dean while Gabe had Castiel. They take each boy to the room they shared.

It's just the everyday summer routine. Only this time, it's better. Because now they're whole again.

Hope y'all enjoy. I know I had a lot of fun writing this, and am already starting a small series based on this one-shot. ~USSA