A/N: Hi guys. Umm, not much going on here for me to update you with. I'm currently writing the chapter for Sin City, so that tells you how far ahead of the game I am. Oh, I met Hayley Atwell from the Captain America movies and the Agent Carter series, and John Barrowman from Arrow and Doctor Who, which was pretty awesome. Barrowman called me sweetheart and said that he loved me, so that's kept me smiling. Downside, I've been sick for the past couple of days, but I'd like to thank spnfanforlife, talknerdy2meh, hectatess, Bjester74, NightReader22, waitingforAslan, hollyhobbit101, Xeraphina Laurentia, Magi Madpie, Guest, and lenail125 for helping to make me feel better.

Okay, so this one is tagged to 2x14, Born Under a Bad Sign. I'm going to preface the chapter with saying that I really, really wanted to write Sam's point of view on this one, but found it almost impossible because he was possessed the whole time. I tried writing a chapter about him waking up in the hotel room and deciding to call Dean, but it wound up being too short. So this is what we've got. I hope you like it. Please review!

Prayers for the Faithless

When Sam had gone missing when he was sixteen, Dean had a definite moment of panic between realizing that his kid brother wouldn't be coming back with dinner and Dad coming home from the hunt. Then he'd sucked it up, taken his punishment like a man, set out, and found his brother. It wasn't exactly a great feeling, the anxiety and the nausea swirling together in his stomach, but it had definitely subsided the second he had Sam back in his sight. He'd had to deal with that same feeling every day while Sam was in school, but he'd been able to push it down and ignore it for the most part.

When John had gone missing, Dean had dealt with it fairly well. Upon hitting the three-week mark without a call from his father, he'd stared at the ceiling for a second before leaving his evening's entertainment lying in bed beside him, dressing, climbing into the Impala, and, after a moment's hesitation, heading west to California.

Sam's presence always had a calming influence on him, or maybe it was just that he knew he had to keep his cool around his baby brother, even if baby brother wasn't a baby anymore. Being back with Sam put Dean's head back into the game when it came to finding their Dad. Hunting without Sam and Dad had been liberating, but it had also made him reckless. There had been a few times he had almost died because he didn't have anyone watching his back. Having Sammy back by his side put it all in perspective. They would find their Dad, together. Because that was all that mattered.

Now, that pit of absolute terror was clawing around in his stomach, searching for a way out. Sam was gone, again. Unlike last time, there was no reason, no note. Dean had gone into full survival mode, calling in favors from every hunter that he knew to try to find Sam. He hated it, but he felt like he had only one rock left to uncover. He gently shut the driver's door of the Impala and walked towards the severe looking wooden structure located in the valley between two hills. He paused briefly before creaking the heavy door open and entering the church.

Dean felt a chill go up his spine as he took in the high arches of the ceiling and the unyielding nature of the pews. Yeah, this was definitely a place people went to get comforted. Still, the place was basically empty, so Dean counted what few blessings he had and took a seat at one of the pews about half-way from the front. He was pretty sure he was supposed to kneel or something, but screw that. There wasn't really a line he had ever drawn on what he wouldn't do for Sam, but his knees were pretty screwed up for a guy in his twenties, so there.

Dean folded his hands on top of the empty pew in front of him and eyed the crucified Jesus hanging from the rafters at the front of the church.

"You died to cure the world of all its sin. You couldn't've grabbed a couple of monsters while you were at it? Smote a few demons?" he groused, raising a hand to rub at his temples. He could feel a migraine building and it wasn't going to go away until Sam was safe in the Impala. "Alright, let's give this thing a shot. Whoever's out there eavesdropping, listen up. My kid brother's missin', and you're gonna help bring him back. Y'all have taken a lot from me, but you ain't takin' him. Alright?" Dean sighed and rested his forehead on his folded hands. "Just, get him back safe? I don't ask you for much, so please. Just bring him back."

"You seem troubled, my son." A gentle voice broke through the silence of the church. An old priest in his vestments was standing beside him.

Dean cursed in his mind, hating that this old guy had been able to sneak up on a pro hunter. "Christo," he muttered under his breath, but the priest didn't even flinch. "Uh, yeah padre. I guess you could say that. But don't worry about me. Go tend to the rest of your sheep, I'm done here."

The priest allowed himself a small chuckle. "Young man, you're the only one here. Believe me, I have more than enough time to listen to anything you may want to share with me."

Dean scoffed, much like he used to whenever Pastor Jim fed him the same line. "Yeah, you and God both I hear."

"Frustrated that your prayers aren't being answered, hm?" The priest took a seat in the pew in front of him, turning as far as he could so he could still talk to Dean and look him in the eye. Dean, to his credit, looked down at his lap, a little embarrassed of his sarcastic comment. With Pastor Jim it had been okay; they'd known each other since Dean was five. A gentle hand clasped his wrist, bringing his attention back to the priest. "You're not the first, young man. Many people become frustrated when God does not answer their prayers right away. It's human nature."

"Does God ever answer prayers?" Dean asked, desperation coating his words. Sam had already been missing for 60 hours or so, the odds of finding him alive were getting slimmer by the minute. He already felt like this prayer thing was a waste of time, time that would be better spent looking for his brother.

The priest nodded solemnly. "God helps those who help themselves. Though," a smile cracked across his face. "That's not even in the Bible. It's an old proverb that dates back to Aesop. Still, the moral of it rings true. What are you praying for, if you don't mind my asking?"

Dean hesitated before throwing caution to the wind. "My brother…He's uh, he's missing."

"Okay. Are you doing everything you can to try to find him?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah. I mean, he's been my responsibility since forever, so of course I'm turning over every rock I can find to get him back. Hel—Heck, I even came here. No offense."

"Well then, if you are doing everything in your power to try to find your brother, I am sure that God is doing everything he can to return your brother to you. Have faith, young man."

"Sure thing, padre. I'll let you get back to work. Good luck with…everything."

Dean shuffled out the door, climbed into the Impala, and gunned down the country road back to the main road, berating himself for wasting his time like that. He parked off to the side of an underpass to give all the hunters in his contacts another shot.

"Harvelle's Roadhouse. Ellen speaking."

"Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him?"

It was a credit to Ellen's patience that she didn't just hang up on him. She and Bobby had been the first people he'd called, and the ones he'd called the most in the past few days. "No Dean, I'm sorry. It's like he dropped off the map or something. But don't worry, kiddo. I've got every hunter in this joint looking for him; we'll find him."

Dean took a shaky breath. Whatever peace he may or may not have gotten in that church was quickly wearing thin. "I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here."

"I know, sweetheart, but we're all doin' everything we can to bring him back safe. What about his cellphone? Did he call to say where he was, or can you call him?"

"No, I've called him a thousand times. There's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone." The second those words left his lips, his phone beeped. "Hang on," he told Ellen, pulling the phone away from his ear to check the caller ID. His heart stuttered when he saw Sam's name flashing across the screen. Forgetting about Ellen, he switched the call over immediately. "Sammy? Where the Hell are you? Are you okay?" He could barely make out the kid's response, but whether that was the crappy connection, Sam's rapid talking, or the fact that he could barely hear anything over the roar in his ears, that was anybody's guess. "Hey, hey, hey! Calm down! Where are you?"

"The He—Heartbreak Hotel in…in Twin Lakes, Colorado. Dean, I—"

"Alright. Don't move! I'm on my way."

Dean shut the phone, rolled his eyes at crappy pun motel names, and gunned the engine, heading towards Colorado. He thought a small prayer of thanks to whoever or whatever brought Sam back. He was nowhere closer to becoming a praying man, but he guessed that every bit helps.

A/N: And in my mind, that priest was Chuck in disguise, because he really should've been helping the boys out in these early seasons. Like, where the hell was he hiding? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'll see you lovelies on Friday, when I finally introduce a much loved character from the SPN universe!