Dean

He finally stumbled back into the motel room around noon, his head pounding from the raging hangover he was nursing. He pulled up short when he took in the empty room. Fear began to pulse through his chest as he took in the scene.

It was utterly destroyed. Lamps overturned on the ground, the bed broken. Long scratches were torn into the wall. The mirror over the dresser was shattered. Blood on the floor.

Someone had put up one hell of a fight. And now Sam and Anna were gone. Dean raced through the room, hunting for any sign of where they might have gone, who might have taken them. Sam's bag was still stuffed under the bed, Dean's duffel crushed by a chair that had fallen on its side. The things they'd stolen for Anna were scattered across the bathroom counter top. Her medical file was gone though. Dean burst out of the room, a prayer on the tip of his tongue when he spotted a battered and bruised Sam carefully walking Anna through the motel parking lot.

Hangover forgotten he raced over to them, relief rushing through him.

"What the hell happened?" He asked roughly, as he made a quick scan of his baby brother, before turning his scrutinizing gaze over to Anna. She didn't seem to be injured almost at all, just bruised with a bloody set of knuckles. She had a small cut on her cheek, but it had already been bandaged over. Sam had the worst of it, dark bruises blooming out from underneath the edges of his clothing. Anna was holding an ice cream cone, while Sam carried a box of take out under his arm.

"Nothing Dean." Sam said exasperatedly.

"That shiner you're sporting isn't nothing Sammy." Dean reprimanded gently, as the three of them walked into the room. Dean made sure to bolt it shut before pushing Sam down onto the bed. He grabbed his kid brother's chin, tilting his face from left to right before turning towards their first aid kit and digging out the tube of arnica. He handed it to Sam before turning to Anna.

She was standing passively besides them, the ice cream slowly beginning to melt into the napkin. He approached her slowly, and she let him push her down into a seated position on the bed too. He also checked her over, moving slowly and gently as he rolled up her sleeves and carefully began to take care of her battered hands.

"C'mon Sammy. Spill it. What happened in here. I get back and it looks like somebody was nearly murdered in here." Dean asked, dabbing antiseptic onto the torn skin. The sting of it made her tense, but otherwise she allowed him to bandage her up.

"Nothing happened Dean. I brought her in here and took care of her. That's it. The real question is, where the he... where were you? Anna needs both of us right now and you just took off." Sam said shortly, exiting the bathroom, pulling his shirt back down over bruises Dean hadn't seen.

"I went out for a bit. Needed to think." Dean replied defensively. He finished taping her hands, but didn't let go of her. He still couldn't believe she was actually back.

"About what Dean? What was so goddamn important inside that thick skull of yours that you abandoned her? After everything she did for us, what she did for you. What was so important?" Sam snarled at him. Dean felt a slight flinch and gently let go on Anna, standing up slowly and turning to face his brother.

"Not here Sammy." He glanced down at Anna, who was shaking slightly, her eyes glazed over. Sam immediately backed down, but the look in his eyes said that their conversation was far from over. Dean had told Sam about Hell, his time in it. But never all the details, never the full truth. Never what he did to Anna, not the price she paid for him.

He wasn't looking forward to telling him. And Dean knew he was running out time to tell Sam himself.

Soon, Dean promised himself. He'd tell Sammy soon.