A/N:

Here we go again …

Chapter 32 ~ Through The Haze

When they were done with lunch, and everyone was full to the brim and ready to explode, they moved into the library – a room over.

Sam went with them and sat down on the couch, offsite the group, still observant to each and every one of them, assessing them. – He didn't mean to – really -, but it was a habit he's trained himself on. Consciously or subconsciously – Sam always stayed wary around hunters.

He knew – or he thought to know – that they were no threat to him. – High likely, maybe, probably.

Nonetheless he couldn't help it, and keep distance between them and himself.

"Dude.", a funny voice tore him out of his scrutinizing thoughts, and a scrawny guy with ruffled hair slumped down beside him.

"'m Garth." He extended his hand towards Sam and flashed him a hundred-watt smile. "Thanks, buddy. – For savin' our asses out there." He sipped from his bottle. "Nice to finally meet you in person."

Sam smiled back at him, and despite that his lips tugged upwards at their corners, his eyes stayed unmoved.

"Nice to meet you too.", he answered bluntly. – Not exactly sure what else to respond, since he wasn't used to getting thanked for something by anyone else but Bobby. – Well, and Dean.

Tense silence.

More tense silence.

Neither of them seemed to know about how to start a dialogue.

"So … I'm a werewolf.", Garth blurted out.

Sam chuckled. "I'm not human either." He felt the tight knot in his guts loosen up a bit at the fact, that he wasn't the only monster in the bunker.

"– Guess we're even then …" Garth chuckled nervously. "How're you doing anyway? – Dean told me; your stunt took a lot out of you?"

"I'm good.", Sam answered – not quite sure how he was supposed to act – nor answer. So he went with the most promising answer he's got (so to eventually avoid any other questions Garth may had).

Garth was examining him from tip to toe. Even when Sam didn't look, he could practically feel it.

"So … how come you're running with hunters?", Sam eventually asked to stop Garth from staring at him.

And then Garth told him his story. In every single detail …

Soon, Charlie joined them on the couch – to Sam's left, so he was caught smack in the middle of both chatterboxes.

Dean was wound up in a heated discussion with the others about Vampires and how they had changed ever since the apocalypse had happened. And though it may seem as if he was full into the conversation, he shot glances towards the couch every now and then, never leaving Sam out under his watch completely.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Sam remembered falling asleep on the couch, the chatter from Charlie and Garth lulling him into sleep as he listened to them talk about video-games and movies.

He remembered, that at some point, he woke up and found himself in a lying position. Pillow under his head, blanket spread on top of him, only his head and feet peaked out from it.

When he woke again, he was still on the couch, warm and cozy and still tired as hell. A red mop of hair drew his attention as soon as he opened his eyes.

Charlie was still there, sitting on the floor beside him, still talking with Garth. Castiel must have joined them somewhen during his sleep, because he was sitting there now too.

Sam caught Castiel throwing an observant look at him. As if he was giving Sam a once-over to check if everything was alright, before focusing back on the talk he had with the other two hunters.

Sam followed their conversation for a couple of minutes, before he fell asleep again.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

The next time Sam stirred awake, not much had changed on the scenery before him.

Garth, Charlie and Castiel were still sitting on the floor and were talking. Castiel was still facing him.

Sam shifted, and as if on cue, Castiel tore his attention away from the conversation and towards Sam for the briefest of seconds.

Sam smacked his dry lips and squinted at the angel. He craned his neck and squinted over the back-lean of the couch, to where he thought the rest of them – including Dean – must be sitting.

But the room seemed to be empty – except for the four of them.

Sam yawned and stretched his long limbs from him, before he shoved himself up into a sitting position.

"Where are the others?", he asked raspy. But what he was actually asking was: Where's Dean?

The three of them instantly fell silent.

"We have received a transmission.", Castiel answered right away, "An emergency-call. Code Black."

Sam frowned. His mind still half asleep. "Jefferson Starships?", he figured.

"Jefferson Who?" Garth craned his neck to look back over his shoulder.

"Leviathans?", Sam offered an explanation.

"Yes." Castiel pursed his lips. "They attacked a sanctuary only a few miles away."

"Dean went there?" … of course, he did. He knew the answer before Castiel told him.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Sam refused to go to his room.

He refused to lay down and sleep on the couch again too.

Instead, he scooted over to the far end against the side-rest, from where he'd have a good few into the map's room and the bottom of the iron-stairs. Or at the walkthrough through which Dean would come if they went through the garage.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

It was late evening, when Charlie came and brought a plate with bread, dried meat, eggs and butter, along with water and juice.

Castiel was sitting on the couch too, blocking Sam's view into the map's room every now and then when he leaned forward. He was reading – more acting as if reading – in a book.

Garth was in the transmitting-room, watching over the radios.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

The night turned in.

Midnight was approaching.

Castiel was still reading.

Sam was still sitting at the far end of the couch, not really listening to Charlie, who kept talking to him, as he was too focused on not falling asleep and keeping his attention trained at the walkthrough.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

It was well past five in the morning.

Sam had fallen asleep in the very position he's been sitting in, but was now covered in a blanket.

Sounds of hurried footfalls and chatter let him stir and his instincts kicked into overdrive, when he felt the couch beside him tip.

His eyes flew open, to see Castiel rise, dump the book on the couch, and take off in a jog towards the map's room.

Sam pushed the blanket aside and rose awkwardly, not giving his legs time to adjust the weight put onto them, and not letting dizziness take him over, when he balanced himself out, before following Castiel slowly.

When he had made his way into the map's room, there was already a hive of activity.

Wounded hunters – but none he knew so far, and those who took care of them. Jesse brushed past Sam with a first-aid-kit in hands, when he dove into the crowd.

He then moved towards the wall, so not to be in the way, and to observe the group cautiously, searching them, looking for Dean.

Castiel was hovering over a hunter on the ground. A woman with a bad looking gash across her chest and stomach, ripped open. Blood oozing in a steady flow from her wounds pooling on the floor.

It was an obvious, though unspoken fact, that she was going to die. There was nothing someone could do for her. Her wounds too severe.

Castiel was holding her hand, talking to her, while his look swept through the room, looking for unattended wounded hunters. He was obviously torn between helping them and staying with her.

Sam followed Castiel's gaze, counting at least three people who were not being taken care of.

He plugged up all the courage he had (when it came to a room stuffed with hunters), and moved over to where the woman and Castiel were and went to his knees beside her.

Sam reached for her hand and eased it out of Castiel's grasp. His and Castiel's eyes met above her.

"Go. – I'll stay with her.", Sam said quietly.

Castiel looked down at her, brushed her brunette hair back and gave her a soft smile. "This's Sam. – He'll stay with you, Anna." Her look flickered over at him, the muscles around her eyes twitched.

And Sam stayed with her, until she was gone …

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Sam had spotted Dean among the crowd, helping moving the badly wounded ones into the infirmary, while scrapes and not-life-threatening injuries were treated in the map's room and the library.

That night, five hunters lost their lives inside the bunker's walls.

Cesar and Jesse took care of the dead bodies. They wrapped them up in sheets and brought them into the garage.

Most of the hunters were set up in rooms soon after. And those who were not, stayed in the library with sleeping-bags or mattresses.

The heavy scent of blood, intestines and antiseptics lingered all over the place.

So, Sam went to get buckets with hot water, cloths, scrubbers and sponges from the kitchen, since it seemed to be the only useful thing he could do, instead of standing around and watching as the others did all the work.

At least, the blood wouldn't dry off on the tiles, he figured, since if it did, it'd be a bitch to get it cleaned later on.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Sam was scrubbing the tiles two buckets beside him, the water only lukewarm anymore. He didn't pay much of attention to the passing people, bypassing him on their way to or from the kitchen.

Suddenly, one of the buckets overturned and the dirty water splashed across the floor, washing around and against Sam's legs.

He sucked in a surprised gasp and sat back on his haunches.

"Sorry, buddy.", a man rasped.

Sam's head wiped around to face the guy.

A dark-haired man, with ice-blue eyes, at least as tall as Sam, hands in the pockets of his jeans, an unreadable expression on his face, towered over him.

There was a hint of mischief in his eyes though.

No way, he could've overseen the bucket – or Sam. Or both of them.

"What's your problem?", the words were out before Sam could stop himself.

The guy shrugged at him, then gestured at the mess around Sam. "You. – Actually, it's you who's the problem here."

Taken aback, Sam wasn't quite sure what to say. Well, he knew what to say, but he swallowed those words, as they sure as hell wouldn't do any good.

Sam's eyes changed from innocent hazel into blackness, giving the man a fair warning to overthink if he really wanted to mess with him.

He opened his mouth to say something, when the guy looked up to where the approaching footfalls came from. Sam followed his gaze, eyes changing back to normal as soon as he spotted Castiel.

"Samuel?" Cas's eyes narrowed at the man beside him, instead of addressing Sam. His lips twitched. "Everything okay?"

"Peachy."; Sam answered sarcastically, with a tight smile and dropped the scrubber.

"Thomas. – Cesar and Jesse could need help in the garage." Castiel stopped mere inches away from Sam. He gave the man a defiant look.

"Sure." Thomas bypassed the other two buckets with ease, clicked his tongue and was on his merry way.

Sam shook his head and reached for the scrubber, but Castiel's hand stopped him.

"You are in no condition to scrub the floor.", he stated and took the scrubber away. "You are not supposed to do anything until you are better."

"I am better.", Sam protested – he knew what Castiel meant, but he tended to ignore everything and everyone who would say otherwise.

"You are. – But yet not enough." Castiel dropped the scrubber into the bucket. "You should know better than that." It wasn't a warning, or threatening or anything like that. – There was true concern in the man's voice.

"I am used to finish what I've started.", Sam said quietly and looked over at Cas, who was squatting beside him.

"I know." He patted Sam's shoulder. "I do not doubt that for a second."

By saying that, Castiel stole Sam's thunder. His shoulders slumped.

"I'll clean up the mess, and then I'll go and take a shower." Sam blinked at him.

"That's fine with me." Castiel smiled at him. "I'll help. – We'll be faster."

Sam would never admit it, but he was glad that Cas was helping to soak up all the spilled water.

When they were done, Sam headed back to his room. Slow. Using the wall for support –noticing Castiel trailing along behind him.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Sam was out for the count an hour later.

Fast asleep, showered and in fresh clothes, atop of his bed. He didn't hear Castiel crack the door open to peak into the room, and certainly not Dean, who came to check on him a couple of hours later, after everything had settled down in the bunker.

He slept through until the next morning, when Dean brought him breakfast and woke him, since there were no signs of Sam attempting to return to the land of the living all on his own.

Dean broached the subject about Thomas and the bucket, demanding to know what had happened. Sam had snapped at him, told him that he was well capable of handle it himself. After all he's counted on, that not everyone in the bunker was happy to have SOMETHING around them.

Specially not SOMETHING with black eyes.

Nonetheless, Dean didn't back off, telling him, that – if there'd be any other troubles with the man – Sam was supposed to let him, Cas or John know. If not for his own sake, then at least for the people in the bunker.

They were arguing then. Which turned pretty fast into a heated discussion and Sam telling Dean, that he wasn't a vulnerable child that needed to be looked after and mother-hennaed and that he was well capable of taking care of himself.

Dean had only thrown his arms in the air, and had stormed out of Sam's room, slamming the door shut behind him.

It wasn't like Dean thought that Sam was vulnerable. It was quite the opposite.

Neither was it, because he didn't trust Sam and feared that he'd lash out on someone.

He didn't trust Thomas, his brother Marcus and their men to not try something stupid. Dean Winchester knew how they were ticking, and it made him utterly uneasy to have them at the bunker (since he wanted for Sam to feel comfortable and he wanted Sam to consider the bunker as a home – at least somehow).

He would've loved to kick them out (just because), since they were an unpredictable threat (to Sam), but without a profound reason it was an impossible thing to do.

Thomas had neither threatened Sam, nor had he made any move on his partner to hurt him physically.

Furthermore – Thomas was an intrigant. A manipulator. He was a cancerous ulcer.

Therefore, he had to keep his feet still and hope (for now). Dean would watch closely and wait for a legit reason to kick them out. And as far as he was concerned, it wouldn't take long for them to fuck shit up. Wherever with Sam or Garth, or anyone else in the bunker.

Hopefully before they'd be able to rip a rift between the people they were currently harboring, and causing them to build fractions.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~

Anger and frustration were boiling deep down in Dean's guts when he marched into the kitchen, brushing past Bobby, and going straight for the Cupboard with the booze.

The grizzled hunter cocked an eyebrow and stopped in the threshold, turned around on his heels and walked to the table. He leaned against it, arms crossed in front of his chest, watching the youngest Winchester with a frown.

Since he knew where he had come from, he could very well imagine why Dean was "agitated" to put it mildly.

"Thunder in paradise?", Bobby asked, not able to bite back the snarky remark.

Dean poured himself a rich amount of whiskey in a glass and when he turned around to face Bobby, he gave him a glare.

"Your son's a damn stubborn son of a bitch.", Dean grumbled and took a sip.

Bobby cocked one of his bushy eyebrows at him and made an approving sound. "I take it, you telling him to tell you if Thomas's acting up, didn't go well?"

"Didn't go well is an underestimation, Bobby." Dean huffed out a breath and began to pace the kitchen in earnest, as if he was willing to run a path into the tiles.

"I bet he won't say shit.", Dean grumbled under his breath.

Bobby watched the outstanding vein on Dean's throat pulsate for a few seconds. "Did you make clear, that it's important for you and John to know? – So, he won't be able to drive a rift in between the people here?"

Dean stopped in his tracks and glared at him again. "We didn't get that far. – Besides, if I'd tell him that, I'm damn sure he's going to leave."

Bobby hummed. Examining Dean cautiously. "He'd high likely would."

"Does he always run, when it's getting' precarious?"

"Pretty much the opposite.", Bobby answered. "You know – as good as me – that he's running towards danger and not away from it." He paused. "And he's not running. He's walking away from this kind of trouble, boy. – To keep it away from me. And – as far as I'm concerned – from you too."

Dean groaned annoyed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, he doesn't get to walk away this time."

"Good.", Bobby said calmly.

"Good? – That's all you're sayin'?", Dean asked in disbelieve.

"Yeah. – Good. Good thing you ain't lettin' him walk away." Bobby's gruff lines softened.

"You're his dad. – Why don't you-"

"Dean. He won't listen to me." Bobby pursed his lips. "I've tried the past fifteen years to get him to not think of himself as a liability to me. Or anyone else he's getting' closer than two yards. – It didn't work. – He'd do everything to protect me – and I s'pose you too – from whatever may come. Wherever it is him running towards the menace, or away from it." Bobby pushed away from the table. "It's always been me being his Achilles' heel."

"I'm damn sure, you've reached the same status by now. – Bonus, you're equals." Bobby stared at him. "You can MAKE him stay; you know?"

Dean cocked an eyebrow at the old man. "You want me to MAKE him stay? How am I supposed to do that, without locking him up?" He laughed nervously.

"Don't be an idiot, princess. – I've seen the both of you. Either tiptoeing around each other, or playin' ole married couple."

"We're partners. Friends.", Dean's head turned a slight red. "Man. – Get your brain out of the gutter."

"Watch your language with me, boy.", Bobby gave him a warning glare. "He likes you. – You mean something to him. No matter for what reason. – He lets you close. – Right into his personal space. He rarely lets anyone this close to him. Not even me." He paused. "You've all the aces in your hand."

The boiling anger was cooling down slowly, draining away into nothingness.

Dean sat down at the table and drank his whiskey.

Bobby joined him then, and they drank in silence.

~*Apple Pie & Bacon*~