The bench beneath his knees was hard and worn out, deflated like the endless stream of people who knelt on it, trying to find comfort in their most desperate time of need. Dean was now one of those people, kneeling, bending, cowering under the weight of the idea that the person he loved most, the one he was sworn to protect, his little brother, may never wake up again.
He shifted, an echoing crack emanating from the board of the old oak pew as it bounced around the chapel's small walls. There were other people here, whispering to themselves, holding their loved ones in their breath with each word, but Dean hardly noticed them. Upstairs, Sam was laying in a hospital bed, comatose, and he may never wake up.
The Doctor had told Dean it was in God's hands. The idea was laughable. Surely in a world with so much pain and suffering, there could be no God cruel enough to stand and watch it, silent and invisible. Yet, here Dean was, in the Chapel of all places, praying to the angels.
Dean had prayed to Cas, but the angel was nowhere to be found. As the angels had fallen to Earth, Cas had fallen off the radar. He was desperate. Sam needed help, needed it soon, and if Dean didn't do something, that would be on him. So, he went against everything he knew, and sent a message to any angel that would care to listen.
The wait was torturous. The ticking silence, louder with each second, pressed against Dean's ears and threatened to overwhelm all of his senses. When it reached its peak, he shot up, the pew protesting loudly at its treatment. The few people in the chapel turned to look at the commotion, but Dean was already out the door. He needed fresh air, needed to clear his mind.
Outside, the day was sunny and bright. It mocked him. Showed him what could be if his brother wasn't dying in the hospital with no way to help him.
The hospital grounds had a garden which was backed by a small grove of trees. It was beautiful. Serene and out of place in the bustling city, but Dean supposed that was why it was there. To give people a place to calm their minds, forget even just for a moment about what was happening in the building behind them.
He found himself walking down the path without thought. He just needed to get away. Shake off this nightmare. He had stopped Sam from completing the trials so that he could live. Now, it might not have even made a difference. Not only did they not shut the gates of hell, he may have lost his brother with nothing to show for it.
The slight breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees, stirring pollen and the sweet scent of their blooms. It blanketed Dean, wrapped him in a bubble of serenity. He normally couldn't care less about flowers and nature's beauty, but with the stress of everything that was going on, it took him away from reality and that was something he desperately needed.
Time passes quickly or maybe it was going slow, Dean couldn't tell. He stood in the midst of the grove, eyes shut. A hand on his shoulder broke him from his reprieve and he instinctively took a swing, ready to take out whatever threat had come for him.
A strong hand caught his arm before it made contact. "Easy, Dean Winchester. I heard your call and I am here to help."
It took Dean a second to register what the person had said, but then it sunk in and he faced them greedily. Before him stood a man who appeared to be in his late twenties. He was slightly shorter than Dean with dark hair that swooped to one side. He was nicely dressed; slacks with black dress pants and a blue dress shirt. Overall, he looked like your typical businessman, ready to hop into an hour long meeting about budget cuts in the company.
"You're an angel?"
The man smiled. "Yes, my name is Sabrael. I heard your call about your brother. I can help him."
Dean, while ecstatic that his prayer had been answered, eyes the angel warily.
"So that's it? You'll help me out of the goodness of your heart?"
The angel laughed, nonplussed by Dean's tone. "Am I not an angel of the Lord? Were we not created to help God's creations?"
Dean chuckled darkly. "Right, because I've never met an angel who didn't quite think that way. What makes you different? How do I know I can trust you?"
The angel paused and regarded him for a moment before speaking, nothing but sincerity in his voice.
"I know some of my siblings can be… difficult, but I promise I am here to help. And I know for a fact that there are more angels on the way, ones that do not want to help. Many of my brothers and sisters are angry Dean. Angry at you, angry at Castiel for the fall."
"And what? You're not angry about your ejector seat out of heaven? For all I know you could be here for revenge."
"I have been in heaven for a long time. Now it is my chance to walk among God's very creations. I warned you about my siblings so that you knew I can be trusted. Now I insist, if you want me to help your brother, it must be done now before they come. Do I have your permission?"
Dean glanced around the yard, biting his lip. He wanted Sam to be saved more than anything, but if his past mistakes had taught him anything, being in cahoots with any powerful being usually led to disaster. But Cas was MIA, the other angels were pissed. If he passed on this opportunity now, Sam would most likely die. His brother needed him.
"Yes. Do what you have to to save my brother."
A look passed over Sabrael's face. A dark flash that could have been a trick of the shadow from the sun's beam filtering through the tree branches above. Dean didn't have time to dwell on it as the angel reached up, touching his hand to Dean's forehead and the world went dark.
The first thing Dean noticed when he woke up was that he was cold. He was lying on something hard, its surface cool and rough beneath his cheek. It took a second to get his bearings, but like someone had flicked a switch, it all came rushing back in a wave of sensory overload. Sam, stopping the last trial, the angels falling, Sam in the hospital. Sabrael.
Dean pushed himself up, stumbling as he stood. He surveyed his surroundings and was left puzzled. He was standing in the bunker's main room. He checked his watch and saw that two hours had passed since he had first walked out of the hospital. What happened? What had Sabrael done? Had he healed Sam? And why did he teleport Dean to the bunker?
With so many questions, Dean didn't know where to start. Looking around, Sam wasn't anywhere to be seen. He made a move to go check if the angel had put Sam in his bedroom, when a sound caused Dean to freeze.
He stood still, analyzing his surroundings to figure out what made the sound. Years of hunting had taught him how to track by even the smallest of sounds.
It took a moment, but then he heard it again. It was like a quiet sniffle, like someone was crying but trying to hide it.
"Sam?" he called, worried that his brother was still hurt, lying abandoned in the bunker.
A shuffle sounded, like someone scooting across the floor. Dean turned toward the noise and figured it was coming from under one of the long men of letter's tables. Why was Sam hiding under the table?
"Sammy?" He called again, slowly approaching the table closest to him, "you hurt?"
The only response for a hiccuping sob, muffled like his face was pressed into his knees.
Thoroughly concerned, Dean reached the table and crouched down to get a better view. All he could see was a ball of clothing. He pulled the chairs away from the table to get full access and his breath caught in his throat. There indeed was a person under the table, but they were about 4 feet too short to be Sam. It's a kid.
"Hey it's okay," he soothed, "my name's Dean. I won't hurt you, I promise. I'm here to help. Do you want to come out from under that table and tell me your name?"
The boy, still crying, froze when Dean said his name. It took a minute, but finally the kid crawled out, the flannel shirt covering his body dragging like a blanket on his small frame.
At first he didn't say anything. Just huddled on the ground with his head dipped low. But then, he lifted his face to meet Dean's eyes and spoke.
"My name is Sam."
Dean's heart halted in his chest as his air left his lungs. There, just as Dean had remembered him looking, was his brother at four years old.
Hello! This is going to be a longer story. I haven't fully fledged everything out yet, but I'm super excited to delve deeper into this fic. I adore kid Sam with Dean stepping into the parent role. I hope you guys will enjoy it too. More to come soon!