Sam couldn't remember a colder day in May. His breath rose into the dark sky as he put the first aide kit back into the trunk of the car. It was so cold, he wouldn't be surprised if it snowed during the night.

They were at a shack twenty miles from nowhere. Dean was inside, patched up, and all Sam had to do was lock up the car and drop himself onto the makeshift bed and hopefully get the first good night's sleep he'd had in days if not weeks. He was so tired, he thought if he stayed on his feet two minutes more he'd collapse where he stood.

When he went inside and laid down he didn't even feel the plank wood floor through the thin folded blankets that were serving as his bed. He made sure the covering blankets hadn't slipped off of Dean and pulled his own over his shoulders. The few candles that lit the room flickered in the wind that came through the nearly non-existent walls.

"Those candles better not blow over, the last thing we need is for this bundle of sticks to go up."

The worst that happened though was that the candles blew out, one by one, and the shack filled up with as much darkness as it was filled with cold.

"I hate the cold." Sam said. "God I hate the cold. Why can't we ever get jobs in California or - geesh, why can't we ever hunt something that doesn't have claws for God's sake. How come no hot spring luxury spa ever gets haunted, hunh?"

A strong, cold wind shook the little building and bit through the thin blankets. Sam pulled the hood of his jacket up and tucked his hands under his arms.

"You always could sleep through anything." He griped to Dean. "You slept through the earthquake in Reno back in 2000. That one even bothered Dad. You didn't care. You sleep through anything."

Sam was tired, he was exhausted, he wanted to sleep. But the night and the cold and the dark made him feel small and alone and vulnerable.

"Hey Dean? Don't make fun of me for this but - can I sleep next to you? I'm freezing cold."

He wasn't that far away from Dean anyway, he shifted over a foot or so, and settled back down with his arm pressed up against Dean's. He pulled the blankets over both of them and relaxed against his brother. No matter what, no matter what happened, what was happening, or how bad he felt, Sam always slept better when he could sleep right next to Dean. When Dean grumbled and moaned about it, Sam knew whatever was bothering him enough to need Dean wasn't that bad. When Dean didn't make any comment at all, Sam knew it was bad.

This was really bad.

But still, Dean was there, solid and comforting. No matter what, Dean would always be a safe place for Sam.

When Sam opened his eyes again and it was daylight, it surprised him how fast and deep he'd fallen asleep. He stayed where he was until he heard the truck pull up outside and he got to his feet and met Bobby at the door.

"All right." Sam said. "I'm ready to bury Dean."

The end.