AN: Hey everyone! This is my second Supernatural episode tag, for one of my most favorite episodes...Home! Obviously, there is spoilers up to it.
Major muju to my girl Moogsthewriter for another fine mess of betaing! (She does such a great job! -applauds-)
Please review and enjoy the show!
The sound metal made as it rubbed across another hard object was one Dean knew a little too well. He ducked as the knife sailed toward his head, pulling the table in front of him as a shield against projectiles.
It was funny. He studied the supernatural, fighting it all his life…but he had yet to find an explanation for the pulling sensation in the pit of his gut. It was a connection that had nothing to do with dark arts and ancient curses, that told him the instant his little brother was in trouble.
He bounded up the stairs, skidding around the door frame. The first thing that met his gaze was Sam lying on the floor, struggling for breath.
"Sam!"
Dean was at his brother's side instantly, grabbing the wire that was threatening to take the one thing he truly had left in this world. "Sam," he begged again, the offending cord still relentless. Sam's choked breaths scared Dean more than he could ever admit. He pulled on it with all his strength, the veins in his forehead bulging.
It wasn't working! His thoughts frantic, Dean grabbed the small black bag and shoved it into the wall, praying the results were instantaneous. A flash of white light exploded through the room, as he braced against the force of it.
The sound of his brother choking brought him back to the moment and he nearly lunged into his brother. His hands shaking too much to be nimble, Dean pulled his brother upright and jerked off the noose as quickly as he could manage.
Sam fell completely limp. Dean pulled his brother into his arms, holding onto him as tightly as the night he carried Sam away from their burning home. He felt the quick rising and falling of Sam's lungs as the younger Winchester pulled in as much air as possible. The adrenaline and worry coursed through Dean's veins as the sound of Sam's wheezing breaths reminded him of what he had almost lost.
--
"Are you sure this is over?" Sam asked. Dean narrowed his eyes. It sure as heck better be, though he wouldn't mind a chance to take a few slugs at the sorry jerk who almost killed his brother.
"I'm sure," Missouri replied, turning to face the youngest. "Why…why do you ask?"
"Uh never mind," Sam answered, his voice still sounding breathy from the attack. "It's nothing…I guess." Dean noted the uncertainty in his brother's eyes. Why couldn't the kid just learn to say what was on his mind instead of leaving everyone in obscurity all the time?
--
Dean slid into the driver's seat of his Impala. The familiar car was always a comfort after a particularly bad hunt. His very own home on wheels. Dean smirked at the thought.
He started the ignition, more than ready for the comfort of a dinky motel bed, when he hesitated. The older Winchester really couldn't say why it was he knew he had to look over at that moment, but he did. Sam was slumped in the side seat wearing that pensive look which always seemed to mean more trouble for Dean.
Dean knew he shouldn't ask. He would only regret it…but…
"What?"
Sam looked up as if the out of the blue question didn't bother him at all.
"Maybe we should stay a moment."
Dean looked at his younger brother. He really wanted sleep, but Sam seemed so sure…darn! He knew he shouldn't have asked.
--
"Tell me again why we're still here?" Dean moaned. At first he was giving his brother the benefit of the doubt but it had been over an hour. Benefits only lasted so long—unless they were friendly waitress benefits…but that was another matter entirely.
"I just…I just still have a bad feeling." Sam was so nervous, so unsure. Sam was normally the calm one. Sure, he wore his emotions right out there on his sleeves—or rather in his eyes—but he seemed to have a cap on them too…most of the time. Right now, however, he was a mess. Antsy and uncertain were just not Sam's style.
They fell into familiar arguments. Sam's need to be sure, against Dean's desire for sleep, but all of that ended with one panicked "Dean!"
--
Dean stood out on the lawn, Jenny at his side. He stared at the open door. Come on Sam, where are you? His heart pounded. This was a part of the job he would have to get used to again. The job had been so different without Sam, it had lost its color somehow, but this was one part he didn't miss. Not knowing what was happening. The worry. His heart pounding in his chest because there was really nothing he could do.
Jenny's kids came running out, and Dean grabbed the oldest's arm.
"Where's Sam?" he begged, his panic rising every moment that he didn't see his brother come through the door.
"He's inside," she nearly sobbed, "Something's got him."
The door slammed shut like a nail into a coffin, and Dean darted to his car with speed only Sam could inspire in him. He grabbed a hatchet and his gun, slamming the hatchet into the door as soon as he reached it.
"Sam!" He screamed as part of the door fell away. He pushed himself through the small opening. Dean felt rage boil inside him as he rounded the corner to see Sam held rigid against the wall, a fiery being advancing toward him. This was the second time that day something unearthly tried to take his brother from him, and he was not about to let this one succeed.
He aimed the gun and all his rage with it, straight at the creation and…
"No don't shoot!" Sam protested.
"What! What?"
"Because I know who it is," Sam gasped. "I can see her now."
--
Dean flipped through the photographs Jenny had returned to him, stopping on one of him and Sam as kids. He smiled. He was glad Sam had been right the night before when he said "Now it's over." Because Dean truly needed it to be over. After all he may be young but he was still sure his heart couldn't take another attempt on his brother's life…at least not this week.