AN: I own nothing! I apologize profusely about the long wait! I know it has been almost a year since I last updated, and I honestly have been meaning to update long before now. Now as for the story:
No Wincest, just brotherly love. I firmly believe brothers can hold one another without it being considered incest or a non-family love. There are some events referenced here that were described in greater detail in previous chapters that I decided to not re-tell as I thought it would make the story cumbersome to keep repeating myself like that. I have never been to Silt, CO, and in hindsight I should have probably changed the name when I realized there was an actual place.
Italicized means thoughts.
Chapter 8 (Part 1):
Dean looked over at Sammy's peaceful face in sleep. He knew that with what Sam had told him the peaceful expression wouldn't last for long. Dean decided that if he wanted to explore the cabin's secrets, now would be the best time. He needed to stay up anyway to keep an eye on Sam, might as well make it a productive venture. He eyed the photos on the coffee table and decided that those were as good a place as any to start.
He sat down cross legged on the floor and pulled the photo album over to him. He was shocked by the picture of Sam that faced him when he opened the album. Barrow's torture was very evident all over Sammy's face. Dean gritted his teeth and kept going through the pictures of Henry and Sam to Nadia to finally Ryan. His mouth dropped open in shock at the picture of his baby nephew in the hospital. He looked so small, so helpless, so….Dean didn't know what word he was looking for to describe his nephew. He hadn't been prepared for the images. He knew that Ryan had been a preemie and that he had stayed in the hospital an awful long time. So long in fact that Dad had been planning on throwing his pride away and going to his son and grandson, but then the news had reached them through George. John had left his number with George when they had met with the instruction to keep him updated on Sam. Dean guiltily remembered that he had been convinced that something had happened to Sam and that was why Dad had actually started crying. 'Well I guess something did happen to Sammy, just not what my imagination had filled in the blanks with," thought Dean as he closed the photo album.
Miracle of miracles, Sam was still sleeping peacefully, so Dean decided to familiarize himself with the cabin again. He belatedly remembered that he had forgotten to lay down protection due to Sam's meltdown. Understandable, but reckless given what was after them. He went into the kitchen to get the box of salt he had spotted earlier next to the cabinets and was shocked to see a fresh line of salt under or on each opening in the cabin. He remembered that Bobby's new puppy had been seeing something tagging along with him. He wondered if he had possibly brought whatever it was with him to Sam's. Whatever was tagging along with him apparently wanted to keep the two of them safe.
'Looks like Sammy and I have our own personal whitelighter,' thought Dean while out loud he said, "Just because you're helping us doesn't mean your days aren't numbered whatever the hell you are."
John's spirit laughed a little uneasily at that line. He knew that when he had used his new found ability of moving objects that he was taking a risk with Dean, but he couldn't risk his babies like that.
Dean looked over to where he remembered the two bedrooms being and saw both doors open. He looked into the one that had been his and Sammy's when they stayed in the cabin as children. He could tell it had been made into a bedroom for him, but the signs that it had been intended to be a nursery had not all been taken down. There was a wallpaper border around the room depicting a ship with a bunch of animals. 'Must be from that Bible story Mom used to tell me. I think I even had a toy of the ship with the animals,' mused Dean wryly as he also took in the boxes near the door that were filled with obvious baby stuff.
'Damn, while I was putting the Impala back together and thinking I was having the harder time dealing with everything, Sam had to deal with this. There isn't any dust on these boxes, so they had to have been packed recently,' thought Dean sadly.
He moved to their Dad's old room and saw that it had become Sammy's room. He moved into the cozy space. The furniture was made of light woods and the colors of the bedspread and chair, while dark, made the room feel very warm. 'Martha Stewart's got nothing on you, Sammy!' thought Dean as he actually let out a quiet chuckle at the mental picture of Sam's face if he ever said that line to his face. Dean did have to admit that he liked his brother's decorating style. It was very….well….homey.
Dean was brought back from his musings by the beginning sounds of Sam's nightmare. 'Here we go,' Dean sighed mentally, 'Ready or not.'
By this time, Dean had made it back to the sofa as Sam was starting to thrash around.
AN: Thanks for patiently waiting for the next installment of this story! This is only part of Chapter 8 due to a horrid case of writer's block. I know where I want the two to end up I just don't know how I want to get them there. I decided I'd rather post a short chapter than make y'all wait any longer for an update.
I am in no way above downplaying how Dean was feeling after John's death! It just seems in character to me for Dean to think Sam's pain is more than his.
