Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

This story is unbeta'ed, so all mistakes are mine.

A/N: Here is the chapter I think most of you wanted to get to. I hope you enjoy it.

Chapter 5

Dean walked out of the dormitory heading towards Baby. He didn't know why he needed to get back to the car. It was just an urge.

Looking at the car, it was still where he parked it. There were no dings in it. Dean walked to the trunk; the lock wasn't tampered with. Dean couldn't think why he needed to come to the car as he lightly slid his hand over the trunk. Then he saw it. There was a reflection that caught his eye. Pulling his gun from its hiding spot, Dean slowly walked towards the back door. When he saw the body lying on the back seat, he was seconds away from snatching the door open and scaring the crap out of the person who dared to climb in his car. Dean had his hand on the door handle when something caught his eye that had him frozen where he stood.

Sammy.

Dean has taken care of his baby brother since he was four. He knew how his brother slept. It didn't matter if Sammy was three, twelve, or nineteen. Sammy slept the same way.

Dean almost dropped his gun. There was such a relief that he felt his knees buckle. For an entire month, Dean had been so worried about his brother. He didn't know if everything was all right. He wanted to yell at his brother, tie him up, and pack him in the back seat, so he would always know where his Sammy was. But that was an argument for later. Right now, he needed to check on him.

Dean went to the other side to where his head was the closest to the door. Not wanting to scare Sammy, Dean slowly opened the door. Sam must have been exhausted as he didn't wake from the creak of the door opening.

Dean sat down on the floor and leaned over, brushing Sam's bangs from his face. His brother was safe. Sammy was safe.

_000_000_000

Sam was lying on a cot. He tried to stay awake, but he was dog-tired. It was vital for him to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't figure out why. Finally, sleep won out.

It was peaceful for a moment, but just a moment. A hand clamped down over Sam's mouth, muffling any kind of noise as well as making it hard to breathe. When he opened his eyes, James was leaning over him.

Sam tried to reach back for his knife and realize that not only was his knife, not where it was supposed to be, but he just realized that his duffel was not there either.

"Well, it seems like my eye candy is defenseless. It's okay. Just makes it easier for me."

James' other hand slid down his chest, over his stomach. Sam's muffled screams were getting louder but still didn't alert anyone of Sam's dilemma. Sam tried to buck the man off him, but he felt trapped. He couldn't move, struggling against invisible restraints. When Sam felt James' hand on his crotch, he couldn't stop the tears streaming down to his hair.

"Shh," James mockingly soothed. "You'll feel good. I promise."

Sam felt a brush of cold air. It sent a shiver down his spine. It made him try to back away from James. James's hand didn't move; it just stayed where it was. Sam didn't like it; he wanted him to go away. Sam wanted Dean. Dean would always make things better.

Thinking about Dean brought a whole new set of anxiety. He wanted his brother. He had convinced himself that he would be fine alone. These past few weeks only showed Sam that he couldn't. He needed his brother. Oh, what he would do if Dean was here.

Dean. Dean. Please help me, Sam thought. He wanted to scream it from the top of his lungs.

The smell hit him first. Tears burn his throat because he knew that smell. It made him wish for his brother all the more. Sam missed the security he would get being with his brother.

_000_000_000

"Sammy, wake up," Dean said softly as he carefully shook his little brother's shoulder. "Sammy."

Sam began to jerk in his sleep, trying to pull away. He was mumbling something. It was so soft that Dean had to lean down with his ear against Sam's mouth so he could hear him. After a second, Dean's heart broke.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean said with more vigor. "I'm right here."

Dean combed his fingers in Sam's sweaty hair. Sam gasped and tried to sit up, but he felt resistance and started kicking his feet against the door as if trying to get away.

Dean being used to waking Sam from a nightmare, be it the car or a hotel. He grabbed his brother's wrists, pulling him closer to his body. Wrapping his arms around Sam, Dean gave his baby brother a sense of security. Just like when they were little, Dean would try and wake Sam from whatever was troubling him.

_000_000_000

James was on top of Sam, pinning his arms above his head. He leaned down and got closer to Sam's ear. "This is going to be fun."

At the top of his lungs, Sam screamed, "DEAN!"

"Come on, Sammy. I'm right here."

He could be in a crowded, noisy room, and he would be able to tell that voice. Dean.

"Open your eyes, Sammy."

_000_000_000

Sam woke up, gasping for air. Sam always had a problem with holding his breath when having a nightmare. When he opened his eyes, Sam saw someone he didn't think he would ever see again.

Dean was looking down over him. Flexing his hands, Sam could feel that Dean had his wrists.

"There you are, baby brother," Dean smiled.

"D'n," Sam cried.

Sam tried to crawl in Dean's arms, but the older Winchester brother got up so he could get into the car. Sam started whining. It looked like Dean was leaving him.

"D'n," Sam whined.

"Calm down, Sammy," Dean said, getting in the back of the car. "I'm not going anywhere."

Once Dean got in, Sam slid closer to his brother and fell into a firm embrace. Sam never felt as happy and safe while in college as he did at this moment.

Everything Sam went through. All the worrying Dean went through. None of that mattered now. They were in each other's arms.

Sam's face was buried in the crook of Dean's neck. Sam gripping Dean's jacket. Dean had one arm wrapped around Sam's shoulders, while the other was cradling his head. His finger's slightly rubbing Sam's scalp.

Everything happening outside, the chill of the air, nothing matter. The only thing vital to the Winchester brothers were each other.

Dean wanted to talk to Sam. There were so many questions he needed answered. The main one was why he didn't have his phone on him. But for right now, Dean was contented to just sit here and hold his baby brother.

"I got you, baby brother," Dean soothed. "I'm here. Whatever it is, big brother will take care of it."

Dean's soothing mantra continued until Sam's shoulders stopped shaking.

Dean, keeping his one hand on Sam's head, wanted to reach out to close the opened back door. Dean didn't get his arm off Sam before the college boy started to struggle again. Dean instantly went back to soothing him.

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean soothed. "I just want to close the door. I'm freezing my ass off."

Sam couldn't help but snort a laugh at that. Dean took that as a good sign and reached out and closed the back door. Memories flooded Sam's mind of growing up and the two of them sitting in the Impala's back seat.

Home. His real home, Sam thought.

Now that Sam wasn't trying to bury himself into Dean, Dean figured it would be the perfect time to ask questions.

"What the hell happen, Sammy?" Dean asked.

Though Dean's voice wasn't harsh, Sam could hear the disappointment in his voice. Sam sighed and sat back against the back of the seat. In doing that, Dean got a good look at Sam. Dean saw something that caught his attention.

"What happened?" Dean demanded, pulling on Sam's shirt, seeing the blood on it.

This time Dean's voice was harsh. Sam felt his brother's hands on him. Sam looked down and saw that he still had the blood on him from when James tried to attack him.

Dean was in full overprotective big brother mode. He first started checking for injuries. As he moved his hand across Sam's torso, Sam explained to Dean it was not his blood. Dead didn't buy that. Just because it might not be his blood doesn't mean his baby brother wasn't hurt.

Before Sam could say anything, Dean got out of the back seat, and just as quickly got in the front seat and turned on the engine. Sam didn't say a word before the Impala pulled out of the parking lot and was headed, what Sam hoped, out of town.

There was no such luck on that score. Dean drove them to a hotel. Sam speculated that this was where Dean was staying. Dean parked the car and got out to help his brother. Sam reached for his duffel and slid closer to the door.

Dean took the duffel out of his brother's hand and hoisted it over his shoulder while helping Sam out of the car. With his hand still on Sam's elbow, the two brothers walked to the hotel room. Once in the room, a whole new sense of calm swam over Sam. Seeing the two beds brought tears to his eyes. Dean closed the door.

"D'n," Sam croaked over the lump in his throat.

Dean turned Sam around. "Come here." Dean pulled his brother into his arm, so he could give his brother a proper hug. Sam sighed and sagged against Dean.

"I'm here," Dean soothed.

_000_000_000

Sam was in the shower. Dean looked through the duffel, finding clothes, snacks, and a few energy drinks. The door to the bathroom opened, and a billow of steam followed Sam out of the bathroom. Dean turned and got a good look at his brother. He rushed to Sam's side when he saw his neck.

"What the hell happened?" Dean growled. "You said that blood wasn't yours."

Dean was in front of Sam, tilting the young Winchester's head to the side so he could get a good look at the cut on Sam's neck.

"Go sit down," Dean ordered. "I'll be right back."

Sam sat down. Even though Sam knew Dean was upset, this was the most comfortable Sam has felt in a long time. Hearing his brother growl at him didn't worry him. Sam knew that his brother was angry at the situation, not him.

Dean came back in, slamming the door behind him. He walked over to the table and put the first aid kit down.

"Alright, talk," Dean ordered.

Dean pulled out some gauze and soaked it with peroxide.

"It doesn't matter," Sam sighed, tilting his head to the side.

"I beg to differ." Dean's voice was no longer angry. He was wiping a wound on his baby brother's neck. It was full of rage. "Someone tried to slit your throat! What happened?"

"Please, Dean," Sam sighed. "Just leave it. I'm fine."

"You were radio silent for a month," Dean said, slamming the bottle on the table, causing some of the liquid to spill. "I had no idea what happened to you. When I do find you, you're covered in blood, and it looks like someone tried to slit your throat."

"Dean…"

"Dammit, Sammy," Dean screamed, cutting off any excuse his brother was going to give. "Either you tell me what happened, or I'll go and find out. And you know I will."

Sam thought about what happened to him. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to tell Dean. If he told Dean, it would make it real. He just wanted it to be a bad nightmare. Looking down at his hands, Sam could still see that man's blood. He can still feel that man's hands on him. Tears burned the back of his eyes. He didn't want to think about it.

Sam looked up at Dean. The anger Dean felt quickly left him when he saw the tears in his brother's eyes. Dean pulled a chair closer to his brother and sat down. Leaning closer, Dean cupped Sam's face, and when the first tear fell, Dean wiped it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Sammy, please," Dean pleaded softly. "What happened?"

Sam's resolve melted away. Sam closed his eyes and leaned into the hand that cupped his face. His shoulders shook. Dean pulled his brother into his arms. Dean knew whatever it was, it was something terrible by the way Sam was gripping his clothes.

"I'm right here, Sammy," Dean soothed. "Whatever it is, I'm right here."

"I…I tried to stay safe," Sam whispered, laying his forehead against Dean's shoulder.

Dean didn't want to interrupt his brother. Whatever what troubling Sam, he needed to get it off his chest. Dean gently squeezed Sam's neck before cupping the back of his head.

"I didn't trust anyone," Sam sighed. He was calming down, but he didn't want to leave the comfort of his brother's arms. "I stayed to myself. I was at the bus stop resting when he showed up. I left, but he followed me."

"Followed you where?" Dean asked, tightening his grip.

Sam let go of the grip he had on Dean's clothes. He sat up, pushing against Dean's shoulders so he could sit properly. Looking at his brother, Sam told his tale of what happened.

"You've been living on the street?" Dean incredulously asked. Sam nodded. "Why didn't you call me? Don't you know I would drop everything for you?"

Sam lowered his head. Deep down, he knew that, but there was a small voice in his head saying that Dean didn't care.

"I thought you were angry with me for leaving for school," Sam rationalized. "We didn't part on the best of terms."

"You and dad didn't part on the best of terms," Dean corrected. "I, on the other hand, dropped you off at the bus station and called you every week to see how you were doing."

Sam lowered his head again.

"I didn't want to disappoint you," Sam mumbled.

"Disappoint me? You would never disappoint me if there was trouble." Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What disappointed me was that you didn't call me when this whole mess started."

Sam lowered his head and sighed.

Standing back up, "Now, lift your head so I can finish dressing this. And then you're going to bed."

Sam did as he was told, and Dean inspected the wound, making sure that it didn't need stitches. The cut was deep, but it wasn't as bad as he thought. A few Band-Aid stitches and a gauze taped to the wound to keep it clean should do it.

After Dean finished dressing the wound, Sam got up and headed towards the bed. His usual bed, the one furthest from the door. Dean packed the first aid supplies back into the box, silently.

Before Sam could lay down, he knew he would have to confess about what happened and how he got the wound.

"Dean," Sam called out softly.

Dean stopped what he was doing and looked at his brother.

"I know you want to know who did this," Sam said, pointing to the gauze. "But I handled it."

"Handled it how?" Dean put down what he had in his hand and turned to face Sam, leaning on the table with his arms folded across his chest.

Sam sighed. Then he regaled Dean with everything that happened this morning to when he left the shelter.

"SONOFABITCH!" Dean yelled, walking over to the bed and grabbing his keys.

"Dean!"

Sam rushed over to his brother before he stomped out the door. It took all of Sam's strength to keep Dean inside the hotel room. Sam was lucky he was able to lean against the door preventing Dean from leaving.

"Please. I cut the dude's arm," Sam said, breathing hard from the struggle between him and Dean. "That's why I had blood on me. I didn't lie to you; it wasn't my blood. It was his. Once he moved the knife from my neck, I was able to defend myself."

"That man deserves to die," Dean growled. "He put his hands on you."

"Dean, please," Sam begged.

Dean closed his eyes and tried to reign in his temper. He threw the keys on the bed and walked towards Sam.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded.

"Alright," Dean sighed. "Go to bed."

Sam looked at him. Dean saw the unasked question.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right here. In the morning, we'll talk about this reason you ran from school in the first place."

Sam followed Dean toward the bed. Dean lifted the duvet.

Smirking, Sam said, "I don't need to be tucked in," sitting down on the bed.

"You ghosted on me for a month. I had no idea what happened. I'm entitled to treat you like a child and make sure to my satisfaction that you are sleeping in a semi-comfortable bed, nice and warm."

Sam smiled as he allowed Dean to take care of him. If Sam was honest with himself, he was actually enjoying Dean taking care of him. Sam missed this so much. He didn't know how much until Dean was here. Sam knew tonight will probably be the best sleep he's had since he started school. It didn't take long for Sam to fall asleep when Dean walked away.

Dean watched his baby brother for a second before he fished in his pocket for his phone. Dialing a number. He put the phone to his ear.

"Hey," Dean said. "Where are you?... I need your help. … How fast can you get to Palo Alto?... Great. … I need you to find someone. … Thanks." Dean hung up the phone.

TBC

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favored, and followed my story.

Please leave a review letting me know what you think about the chapter.

Many hugs and kisses to you all!

Mandancie