Chapter 20.

Sam went to Dean's room. He felt he should check on it, make sure there was no fast food fast becoming a health hazard or laundry that needed to be cleaned or ... Well, mostly, he just needed to see it as Dean left it, ready to welcome him back.

His mother was standing in the open doorway, looking into the room.

"Mom?" said Sam.

She turned. "I know. Stupid, right?"

"Not at all." he said.

"I keep thinking, is he in pain? Is he scared?"

"If he's awake, he knows we're looking for him. He knows we're coming to find him." said Sam, "Fear and pain, he's used to. As long as he knows help is coming, he can handle anything."

She went into the room. Sam saw her eyes follow the lines of guns on the wall. He followed her in, closing the door behind them. "When he was little, he used to like his door open at night. He said he liked to hear us moving around downstairs." she said, "He wasn't a big fan of being alone."

"I used to think he didn't need anyone." said Sam, "I used to envy him that. He was so ... self-contained. I felt like he was so much stronger than me."

She saw the photo Dean treasured most. She picked it up. "I remember when John took this. It was a good day."

"I wish he had that with him." said Sam, "I wish he had anything to remind him of home."

"How do we find him, Sam?" she said, "There has to be a way."

"There is and we will find it." he said, "It's getting late. You should try to sleep."

"So should you." she said.

"Yeah, I plan to. I just need to check on Jack first."

"I can do that." she said.

"No, I'll never get to sleep if I don't know he's okay. He was too quiet at supper."

"Yeah, he wasn't the only one."

"I know. They're both a lot more messed up than either will admit." said Sam, pretending to think she meant Cas. He took the photograph from her hand. "We'd better put that back where it was. A hair's breadth out of place and he'll go crazy at us for being in his room."

"I'd love that." she said.

He put the photo carefully back in its place. "Yeah, me too."

He left her in Dean's room and he headed to Jack's. Jack was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "Hey, Jack." said Sam.

"Castiel is outside. Not far, I think. He goes on top of the bunker when he needs to think." said Jack.

"He has a lot to think about." said Sam, wondering whether Jack wanted him to talk to Cas.

"I know. I never know if it's good or bad to leave him to think."

"I don't think we get a choice." said Sam, "He's not interested in talking things over."

"He thinks he did this." said Jack.

Sam remembered Cas saying, "After everything I've done?"

"Yes, but I don't see how." he said, "We just need to keep him close, here or at the farm and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"I think Sarah could help him."

"I'll be talking to Sarah tomorrow. I'll suggest it." said Sam, "How are you, Jack?"

"Too human, too useless, but fine." said Jack.

"You don't sound fine."

"I'm not in pain. I seem to be healthy, in human terms. I just don't like being reduced to human terms right when you could all use a friendly nephilim."

"We won all past fights without a nephilim." said Sam.

"I'm not convinced you won all your past fights." said Jack.

"The fight's not over until we win it." said Sam.

Jack sat up and smiled. "It's good to hear you say that. I don't know how you do it, but you always keep fighting, no matter what."

"I don't handle defeat well." said Sam.

"Well, you're a Winchester, not a Losechester."

"Did Dean tell you that?" said Sam.

"Dean told me a lot of things." said Jack, "But I hope he will tell me a lot more."

Sam sat on the side of the bed. "Do you wanna tell me how you feel about all this or is that a job for Sarah too?"

"I'm okay." said Jack.

"Nobody is okay."

"Okay, I'm not okay, but I'm okay with that. I'm not about to run away. I'm not curling into a ball and screaming. I hate having half of who I am stripped away and I hate knowing that if I'd done something sooner, Michael would be dead and Dean would never have had to sacrifice himself. But I'm a Winchester. We suck it up and we keep on swinging. Right?"

"You're practically Dean." said Sam.

"Thankyou. I can think of no higher compliment."

"Believe me, there isn't one. Just one thing, though, none of this is because you did anything wrong. No action or inaction of yours caused this."

"So you all keep saying, but I was the one who could have killed Michael."

"I could have killed Lucifer."

"I doubt it. Not easily, anyway. And Michael would still have found a way here."

"We can't know that. That's why we shouldn't waste energy in looking for ways to blame ourselves."

"So you're going to stop blaming yourself?" said Jack.

Sam looked at him, wondering why the kid had the unerring ability to see his soul. "Yes, I am. Absolutely, I am." he said, "Because weeping and wailing about why it happened is not doing a thing to bring Dean back."

"You're right." said Jack.

"You, me and Cas, we can blame each other, we can blame ourselves. It's all just wasted time. Dean needs us to pull ourselves together and work on finding him."

"Which we can't do until Michael slips up." said Jack.

"Yeah, well, if there's one thing we know about archangels, it's that they slip up. And continually underestimate the Winchesters."

Jack smiled. "That's true."

"We need to make sure that we don't do either."

"Do you think my grace will recharge?" said Jack.

"Of course it will. You're still a nephilim."

"Just don't pin your hopes too much on that." said Jack.

"My hopes are not nephilim-dependent." said Sam, "What I believe in, what I trust in is that you will always be a Winchester. So will Cas and we only ever needed three Winchesters to save the world."