A/N: I rewatched this episode last night in preparation for writing this and I'd forgotten how much I'd disliked it whoops. Oh well. I'm back to writing from Sam's POV again because I love writing for him so here we go. Hope you enjoy!


Sam stared blankly at the screen of his laptop, the images blurring as exhaustion threatened to overcome him. His eyelids began to droop, but he forced them back open and took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee, grimacing slightly at the taste. He'd been working to find Jack almost non-stop since they'd gotten back from the case, mostly because he was desperate to find him, but also partly to take his mind off the fact that Ketch was still alive.

He couldn't help but think that all this could have been averted if they had just burnt the body; they should have known better than dumping it. But they'd not wanted to waste time building that bastard a pyre, not wanted to have his corpse lying around the Bunker any longer than they could help. So they'd been stupid.


His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Dean sighed, and Sam could almost imagine him shaking his head.

"Dude, go to sleep. It's one in the morning."

"You're up," Sam pointed out, not moving from his position. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he would be able to, he'd been sat like this for so long.

"Yeah, okay," Dean acquiesced, sliding into a chair opposite Sam. He was wearing his dead man's robe and slippers, but he looked like he'd gotten about as much sleep as Sam had.

A silence passed between them, broken only by the whirring of Sam's laptop.

"Found anything?" Dean asked, although it was clear he already knew the answer.

Sam shook his head and sighed, rubbing at his temples. "No. I'm worried, man."

"I know," Dean assured him. "But, look, no news is good news, right? And I know Cas thinks that this 'dirth of evidence' or whatever means that something's happened, but we got no evidence of that either. I mean, you'd think we'd know by now if Hell or the angels had him."

"I guess," Sam sighed. He wanted to believe Dean, he did, but he couldn't help but be scared for Jack. Hell or the angels, they could deal with those no problem, but Sam was more afraid of Jack being alone. The kid was clearly scared of his powers, of who he might became, and he had no one to turn to to help him anymore.

Sam remembered a time when he was alone and scared and desperate, and he remembered everything he had done, and he didn't want the same thing to befall Jack. He would do everything in his power to stop it, because this kid was going to be better than Sam.

A part of him wished he could tell all of this to Dean, but a louder part of him told him to keep quiet, so he just laboriously reached out to slam his laptop shut and pushed his chair back.

"Night," he said, standing and shuffling towards his room. He collapsed onto his bed and stared at the ceiling fan, watching it rotate until he was pulled down into an uneasy sleep.


A/N: I don't like the ending of this, but I'm pretty happy with the rest. I may get another one out before the episode, but it's highly unlikely. Please review if you have a moment! Bye!