"Are you ready, Dean?"

Sam looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. The two of them were sitting cross-legged on the floor in their pajamas. They were leaning up against the couch next to one another, and up until this moment they'd been sharing a comfortable silence. Dean looked over at his little brother and shrugged his shoulders, taking a swig of the rapidly warming beer in his hand.

"I guess so, Sammy," he said. "I mean, whether I'm ready or not, it's about to happen."

There was only one thing that Dean knew about his soulmate; whoever it was, he or she was not than Dean. He didn't know by how much, but he did know that his soulmate wasn't yet or had just turned twenty-two. He'd turned twenty-two almost a year ago now, but every year leading up to this one, there hadn't been a note on his dresser when he awoke. Every New Year's Day was exactly the same—nothing out of place, nothing strange or different. He hadn't been visited by his soulmate yet, which meant that he or she was younger than he was—or at most, the same age.

His mind raced with possibilities as the clock ticked closer to midnight. Dean knew that he would only have an hour as his soulmate—he'd have to figure out everything over the course of that hour, and although he'd read more internet articles than he'd like to admit about how to make the most of his hour, he was still incredibly nervous. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many things that could hinder him in his search to find out everything he could about his soulmate. As the first one to go, he had the biggest responsibility. If he didn't find a way to communicate or to figure things out, they would have to wait until his soulmate turned twenty-two for a second shot. If that failed, too, well. There was almost no hope at that point.

Sure, there were websites out there that catered to soulmates who had missed their shot at each other, post after post of descriptions of bedrooms and facial features and family members, snippets of remembered information that people put online in a desperate attempt to find their other half. It didn't always work.

In the weeks leading up to New Year's Eve, Dean had learned how to write a few sentences in over twenty different languages. He'd read up on the best ways to find information about a soulmate, learned how to quickly and easily communicate who he was through different means. Dean, himself, had left a pad of paper and a few pens on his dresser every New Year's Eve since he was ten years old, but he couldn't count on his soulmate to be so proactive. He'd heard stories of people unable to find anything to write on or with, unable to get into a locked cell phone to leave a message or their phone number, unable to even find a mirror to see what their soulmate looked like. The idea of something like that happening made him a little nauseated, and he turned his head to focus on the clock, instead.

11:23 PM.

"Are you nervous?" his little brother's voice pulled him out of the monologue in his head, and he took another pull from his beer. Sam was eighteen and he was pretty intuitive when it came to Dean.

"A little bit," he conceded, not wanting to burden Sammy with everything that was on his mind. Honestly, he was terrified, but he was also more excited than he'd been in his entire life. "Mostly excited, though. I don't actually know why I'm drinking this." He gestured with his half-empty beer. "Not like I'll be awake for it. Once I'm… you know. I won't be drunk. Unless they drink, too. Oh, God, Sammy, what if they don't drink?!"

Sam laughed warmly, taking a drink from his own beer. He was underage, but Dean always let him have one with him. "I don't think they could be your soulmate if they didn't drink, Dean."

Dean hoped he was right. His mind was going a mile a minute again, filtering through possibilities. Would his soulmate be a guy or a girl? He didn't really have a preference, to be honest, but he couldn't imagine someone who thought they were straight ending up finding out that their soulmate was the same sex—or vice versa. He was lucky that he didn't have that problem. How old would his soulmate be? Where would they live? His heart started to pound again and he glanced over at the clock, forcing himself out of his thoughts.

11:41 PM.

He drained the rest of his beer, setting the empty bottle on the coffee table in front of him. Dean's palms were beginning to sweat, but as if Sammy could hear his thoughts, he turned and gave his brother a big, warm smile. "Don't sweat it, De," he encouraged. "You've been preparing for this forever. You know exactly what you need to do. Just don't panic and you'll be fine."

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. Sam wasn't wrong, it was just that he didn't know what he was getting himself into. There were so many things that could go awry that it had his heart pounding again. Dean forced himself to look at the clock.

11:54 PM.

Fuck. Time was racing past him and he wasn't ready for this. Dean wiped his sweaty hands on his pajama bottoms and looked at Sam worriedly.

"You're gonna be here when I get back, right?" he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"Of course, De. I'm gonna sit right here until you wake up, and then you can tell me everything." Sam had agreed to take notes of Dean's experience so that he could remember as much as possible, and he had agreed to help Dean find his soulmate after this whole experience. Dean was glad to have such a nerdy little brother at a time like this.

"Thanks, Sammy. I—"

And as the clock chimed midnight, Dean's eyes fell shut and he was asleep.