Forty-three followers, wow! I can't say in words how thankful I am! It's impossible. Thank you guys for the reviews to last chapter! I was afraid I didn't write Bobby or Dean, or anyone for that matter too well. I love you guys so much though, more than anything! Whenever you're sad, remember I love you. A lot. :3


A nasty and squirming nest of anxiety had made its' home in Sam's stomach. He watched the snowflakes fall in front of the sleek glass of the windows, needing something to focus on. The white of the crystals stood out some against the gray of the harsh weather, outside. If the teen focused hard enough, he could (from his eyes' viewpoint) slow the speed of the snowfall, trying to feel somewhat in control. Of course, Sam couldn't really do all this...but it felt nice to play God for a bit.

Just like before, the youngest Winchester was afraid and unsure of Dean's reaction to all of this. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that he'd be angry...hell, furious or wrathful sounded more accurate. At least Sam knew that his brother wouldn't get violent and break something in the library...the last thing they both needed was something to pay for; let alone Castiel being upset.

Some people have it worse, Sam reminded himself. Being humble and cautious of others as always.

Looking around for his friend, the teen found him tucked in the chair of his desk, scribbling something into a notebook. His features appeared passive from Sam's viewpoint. No emotion was a common look on the librarian's face, but it was often easy to spark something into him.

The aching that earlier dug itself into Sam's body was finally gone; but he'd definitely feel it again in the morning. The ice pack that Cas had given him when he first arrived was now melted, the water condensed on the bag dripping heavily onto the carpet of the building. Sam gave a worried look, not wanting to be anymore of a burden than he already was. He dried the plastic-like container with his shirt, not bothered in the slightest. Eventually, the pack was normal again, and Sam held it tightly in his hand.

On any other given day, it wouldn't take Dean this long to arrive, the salvage yard and garage was only a mile or two away. But given the harsh winter outside, it seemed like it would be awhile. This only caused the anxiousness in Sam build more and more, until the lights seemed a tad dimmer than before.

Until the slam of a door told otherwise.

"Sam?! Where are you?" a deep voice commanded. Unyielding and strong, the other two men gave each other the same worried look. Jumping from their seats, they headed quickly to the front of the building not too far away. But it seemed like miles across.

Snow was dusted through Dean's dark blonde hair, and his trademark cargo jacket was damp in a similar fashion. The freckles peppered underneath his eyes and along his cheeks were almost invisible because of his pink skin, bitten from the cold and undoubtedly a mixture of anger. A common Dean Winchester thing.

Standing in front of the snowy man, Sam and Castiel looked impassive, not knowing what to say first. This wasn't a usual situation either of them were ever involved in...so their mouths were sewn shut. A solid and bone-crushing silence filled the room, and the air was made hard to breathe. While some of the churning emotions Sam had felt earlier were lessened, they still lingered.

Without a word, Dean immediately launched himself in front of Sam, the big brother persona leaking through without restrain. He patted the unseen marks and bruises decorating the teen's body and skin, giving a silent apology with each wince. Once he deemed Sam's condition sufficient enough, Dean's features softened by a fraction. The older brother made a low sound in the back of his throat, words not surfacing at the moment.

Sam sighed, "Dean, I'm fine."

"Who did this, Sam?" Dean ordered. Cas was silent, knowing better than to interrupt. This wasn't his place right now.

"Just a group of guys who thought it was best to torment me. I took care of it...it's perfectly alright. I left when it got too much...and I headed here. Cas looked after me. Everything is fine."

The man in front of him almost seemed to snarl, his mouth turning up in the worst way, "That explains your lack of clothes. I swear to God, they're gonna pay for it. I'll kick their asses."

Grabbing his brother's arms, Sam frowned, "I told you. I took care of it."

"Doesn't mean shit, Sam. What if they do this again, or worse than before? Where am I gonna be?" Dean retorted, voice getting darker and darker with each syllable. Protective wasn't even beginning to cover this. But as said previously, Dean's worst and best quality was his heart of gold and overwhelming urge to guard those he loved.

Sam looked away, not entirely knowing the answer to those questions. He didn't need his brother to look after him constantly, but that also didn't mean that he didn't need him sometimes. There were some things Sam Winchester could do and some things he could not.

The green-eyed man gave a satisfied sound, and made his voice softer, "See? Look, Sammy, I'm proud of you. I knew you could kick ass...just didn't think it would be right now."

"I can look after myself, Dean."

"I didn't say you couldn't. But next time tell me when you're having problems like this; got it?"

Feeling semi-defeated, the teen nodded. While he was surprised Dean hadn't taken this as disruptive and explosive as he could have, Sam still wished this didn't even happen. It was over, for the most part. There was still the brick structure that loomed ahead several hundred feet away that started all this.

Dean passed a look to Castiel, and immediately his eyes looked brighter and less fiery. The dark-haired man threw a tiny smile, glad that this seemed to come to about as much as a resolution as it could have.

Rubbing the nape of his neck, Dean muttered, "Thanks Cas...for looking after Sam." Said teen couldn't help but roll his eyes, seeing already that his brother was turning into a blushing, stumbling mess.

"You're welcome Dean. He's more capable of watching himself than you think. There's no stopping you when it comes to your brother...is there?" The deep baritone of Cas' voice seemed to have struck a chord.

The garage worker's face turned a shade of bright pink, and he huffed a nervous laugh, "I guess not. I'll deal with it later...you think he'll be okay at school...you know, after this?"

I'm right here, Sam mentally reminded the both of them.

Glancing at the teen, Castiel nodded, "Sam is smart enough to carve his way through. And he does have friends to help him, and us."

After all this, this was the first time Sam thought about Gabriel. And immediately with the sight of gold eyes and honey-colored hair, Sam's stomach did a small flip, and his chest tightened. He adjusted his glases, need something to do. What would Gabriel and the rest think about this?

But that didn't matter right now, as the events of today finally hit Sam and he felt tired, a heavy weight landing along his frame. He was emotionally and physically exhausted, and wanted nothing more than a warm shower and a bed.

Dean's voice cut through his thoughts, "Come on, Sam. You look whipped."

Castiel cleared his throat, seeming suddenly embarrassed, "Dean, you had forgotten your jacket the other day during your visit." With a turn, he headed for the back of the building, leaving a red-faced older brother and a smirking younger one.

Handing the leather jacket to him, their fingers brushed for a second, and Sam was on the verge of telling them both to just get it over with already.

"Th-Thanks, Cas," Dean replied, putting the brown jacket over his cargo one, adding to the typical, multiple layers he usually wore.

"Again, you're welcome, Dean."

"See you, Cas," the two Winchesters said in unison. Castiel nodded before heading back to his desk and writing once more in his notebook.

Heading out the front door, Sam snickered. The weather only grew worse, the snow flying through the air and the gusts of wind skin-bitting and unforgiving. White crystals piled along the ground, and the only other color was the pale yellow of front lights of cars. The Impala was parked right in front of the library, as usual.

Dean heard Sam's laughter, and growled, "Shut up."