A/N: For the Mount Potter Competition (12/55, word count: 567). Also with Paula. Seamus lives.

Seamus sees him through the window, jaw slack. Why is Dean still around? It's only a matter of time before they come for him. It isn't like him to just wait around like an open target.

Before he's really aware of moving, Seamus finds himself darting from his bedroom, down the hallway, heart hammering.

"Seamus?"

"Be back, Mam!" Seamus calls.

"But you shouldn't go out! It's-"

Seamus cuts off the end of her sentence with a slam of the front door. "Dean! What the bloody hell are you doing?" he demands, striding across his lawn. In spite of his upset, he can't help but to smile. Dean is still around. "You- Dean, are you mental?"

Dean snorts. "Good to see you, too, Shay."

Seamus softens. For the moment, he can put away his anxiety and fear. He wraps his arms around Dean, pulling him close, letting the other boy's steady breathing calm him. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," he sighs, resting his forehead against Dean's. "But you're not supposed to be here."

Dean pulls away, and Seamus wishes he hadn't. In spite of his smile that refuses to fade, there's something sad, pained in Dean's dark eyes. "I know. I'm leaving tonight. But I-" He swallows, looking away. "I couldn't leave without saying goodbye."

Seamus reaches out, taking his hand. "Dean..."

Dean shakes his head, eyes closing. His fingers curl around Seamus' hand, his thumb brushing over the knuckles. "I'm scared," he admits. "God, I am so scared."

"I know."

"I have to."

"I know."

Seamus bites the inside of his cheek. "You don't have to go alone."

Now, Dean looks at him, eyes wide. He shakes his head, dropping Seamus' hand. "No. No, you're not coming with me, Shay!"

"Why not?"

"Because... Because.." Dean groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. He looks tired and somehow far older than seventeen. "It's dangerous."

Seamus nods his agreement. "Which is exactly why you can't go alone."

He can't imagine Dean out there on his own now, alone and frightened, pursued until the end of his days- days that might be too few given the gravity of everything going on. Seamus can't stand the thought of not knowing.

"Let me go with you," Seamus says, folding his arms over his chest.

"Now is not the time to be sentimental," Dean insists. "If you come with me, we could both get killed!"

"At least I'd know where you are! And I won't have to worry myself sick every night!"

"Seamus."

"I'm going with you. I'll pack my bags."

"You're impossible."

Seamus smirks. "That's why you love me," he says, kissing the corner of Dean's lips. "Back in a mo."

He rushes back inside, throwing things into a bag and sprinting back through the hall.

"Seamus!"

"Be back, Mam! Love you!"

"Seamus Connor Finnigan! Where are you going?"

But Seamus doesn't turn around. He throws the door open, not bothering to close it behind him in his haste.

"You're still here," he says, relieved to find Dean still there. Part of him had been so sure that Dean would leave.

"Yeah, I am," Dean says, holding out his arms.

Seamus falls into him, grinning. They're going to run away together, and everything may not be okay, but they won't be alone.

Seamus feels Dean's hand shift, then the tip of his wand presses against Seamus' chest. "You ran before I could tell you I love you."

"Dean?"

"Don't follow me. Stupefy!"