At some point in the night Dean had rolled off Sam to spread out on his back. Sam was currently curled up, facing away from Dean. It would've been fine if he wasn't lined up against Dean's side, using Dean's shoulder as a pillow and holding Dean's stretched out arm like a stuffed animal.

Sam blinked, groggy, looking around for his actual pillow. He lifted his head up slightly and that's when he realized he'd been drooling in his sleep, on Dean.

He hurriedly wiped his mouth and did his best to rub the drool off his brother's shirt before he noticed. It would still be damp but maybe Dean would think it was sweat or something.

In his haste he didn't realize Dean was waking up until he murmured lowly, amusement suffusing his tone.

"You were drooling on me weren't you?"

Sam tried to say no. Instead it just sounded like an indignant whine.

Oh shit, Sam thought, remembering he couldn't talk.

"Still can't talk huh?"

Sam shook his head. Dean sighed and nodded. Just one more thing, wasn't it?

Ready to get the day started, Dean pulled his arm out from under Sam.

"Sweet Jesus!" Dean hissed, clutching the limb and flexing his hand, "oh my god, dude, were you sleeping on my arm all night?" Dean asked, his arm twitching from the pins and needles as he turned the bedside light on. Sam noticed the clock. It was seven in the morning. They were miraculously back on schedule with the rest of the world.

Dean slumped back to his pillows to glare at his brother as he moved his arm around to get blood flowing. Sam, helpless and mute and with eyes that were looking far too much like a young canine's for Dean's taste, shrugged.

"Don't give me that look," Dean admonished. Sam smirked and sat up straight. He scooted his way to the side of the bed and set his feet down on the floor.

"Sam, wait for me-oh," Dean stopped, watching Sam rise to a stand with perfect ease. The youngest brother turned around to look at Dean, practically glowing. He gestured to his chest with his hands and mouthed I'm okay! with a brilliant smile.

"Holy shit, look at that!" Dean laughed as Sam paced around freely, his natural grace intact. "This is awesome!"

Sam turned on his heel, ecstatically mouthing I know! He paced around some more, enjoying the freedom.

As Dean observed his little brother, he realized with a pang how Sam skinny Sam was these days. His six foot four frame looked skeletal.

"So what do you want to do? Food?" Dean asked hopefully, uncaring if he lacked subtlety.

Sam turned to face Dean, eyes wide and bright. He opened his mouth, then shut it as a shadow of disturbed confusion came over him, then snapped at Dean. Dean blinked and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Sam pantomimed turning something in front of his waist, then made what Dean thought what were explosion noises as Sam reached above his head and did jazz hands down over his face and body. He looked back up at Dean with an expression that could only be interpreted as "you get it, right?!"

Dean folded his arms and pressed his lips together, squinting. Sam rolled his eyes and stomped his way to get a towel before leaving the bedroom.

"Oh, I get it now!" Dean called after his brother in good humor. He walked into the corridor after his brother. "Sam I get it!" Dean called down the hall and Sam threw him a thumbs up before he disappeared into the bathroom for a shower.

Sam was moving fast and Dean didn't blame him. They didn't know how long his strength would last: best to get in and out as quickly as possible before anything went awry.

As the door clicked closed it occurred to Dean that he needed one more answer out of his brother.

"Ho, wait-wait-wait Sam! Sammy!" Dean called and banged on the door once. Sam opened it, eyes wide and curious. "What do you want for breakfast?"

Sam made a face, put his mouth to his hand and shook his head, then gestured at Dean. Dean could translate that pretty easily as I can't speak. Anything, dude.

"Gotchya," Dean replied comically and took off down the hall at the same time Sam closed the door.
-

Dean threw the last scraps of nearly everything in the kitchen into an omelette. It was almost finished frying when Sam walked in, hair combed, clean-shaven, wearing jeans and a gray long-sleeved Henley.

Dean turned and gave a double-take at his brother.

"Hey," Dean drew out the greeting, impressed, "lookin' good," he complimented. Sam grinned, delighted, and landed heavily onto his seat at the kitchen table. Dean tilted his head to the side and aimed the spatula at his brother.

"Y'all right?" He asked, using his serious voice. Sam was happy but still seemed a little unfocused. "Sammy?" Sam flinched at Dean, then nodded with an A-OK sign. He shifted around like he was looking for something, then turned back to Dean and pretended to write on his hand.

"You'd like the bill?" Dean nodded understandingly, joking.

Sam stopped miming and glared at Dean for deliberately misinterpreting him.

Dean chuckled. "You want me to go get you some?"

Sam nodded. He swayed his arms with his fists up, a recognizable gesture for running, then frowned sadly as he crossed his hands away and shook his head. Clearly he wasn't up to go get anything himself.

"Okay hold this," Dean offered Sam the spatula, "I'll be right back. Make sure it doesn't burn," he added and Sam gave him a thumbs up.

Dean was back in less than a minute, one of Sam's legal pads and a pen in hand. He set it down on the table and they seamlessly switched utensils - spatula back to Dean, pen to Sam.

Dean could hear Sam scribbling and contented himself working the omelettes. Just as he was about to get it out of the pan and onto a plate, he heard Sam give a deliberate cough. Dean ignored it, focused on making sure the thing wouldn't slide onto the floor.

Sam clapped for attention.

Dean successfully transported the omelette onto the plate.

The legal pad hit him in the back and fell to the floor.

"What the hell, dude?" Dean laughed, turning to pick it up.

Sam looked at him, frustrated.

"Doesn't mean you can just throw it at me," Dean grumbled, looking at the front page.

"Have our phones been on or have you checked your email at all?"

Dean shrugged. "No. Been busy, why?"

Sam cinched his mouth to the side for a second in thought, then reached for the legal pad. Dean pulled it away from him.

"Promise you don't throw it at me again."

Sam smirked and crossed his heart with his hand.

"Uh huh," Dean replied skeptically, slowly handing the pad back to his annoying pain-in-the-ass little brother.

He'd missed this.

When Sam hunched over to start writing, Dean turned back to the omelette. It was a large serving that he was hoping Sam would be willing to try finishing. He placed it on the table in front of Sam with salt and pepper shakers and some paper towels. He wanted to see Sam's reaction to the food but Sam was still determinedly scribbling. Dean let it go and turned back to the stove to pour the remaining yolk mix into the pan for his own breakfast. That's when he felt the legal pad slam against his back again and fall to the floor with a resounding slap.

"Uhhh I'm gonna kill you," Dean gritted out, turning around to pick the pad up from the floor without even looking at his brother. He could hear Sam's snickering as he read.

"Wherever Cas and Kevin are now they might've contacted us... or anyone else for that matter. I'm feeling fine except for the voice thing. Do you know if Garth is still AWOL?"

Dean shrugged again and looked up at his brother who was watching him anxiously... and hadn't taken a single bite of his breakfast.

"Sam, what-no, I don't know. Eat, man," Dean complained, gesturing at the food. Sam wilted but nodded and turned to the food. He forked a large bite and ate it. Mouth full, he looked at Dean then his note pointedly.

"Okay," Dean granted and re-read what Sam had written. "Okay, I don't know about Garth but yeah we'll check up and see if anyone's reached out. After breakfast."

Sam rolled his eyes with a smirk but gave an A-OK before surprising Dean by digging into his meal with enthusiasm when normally the kid would have argued to check the computer immediately. Dean figured it must be really good and turned back to make his own omelette, beaming. He would still be sure to ply Sam with snacks between meals but this was a tremendous start.

Not exactly a nutritionist, Dean was literally wondering Doritos? Would Doritos be okay? when Sam finished his meal with a satisfied grunt, pointed at his empty plate, and gave Dean another A-OK sign. It translated to high praise in this context though and Dean glowed.

Sam stood up and gestured to the general vicinity of the library and raised his eyebrows, tacitly asking permission. Dean was in the middle of swallowing a bite of his breakfast but nodded and waved Sam off. "Yeah go 'head dude. I'll be in in a minute," Dean managed.

Sam gave a quick smile and a thumbs up and left, giving Dean some time alone.

The older brother ate the last small bits of his breakfast and sighed, pushing the plate away from him. It was good. Too bad he couldn't really remember how he'd made it. He leaned forward, head in hands, thinking about everything they'd been through. How this simple, uncomplicated moment alone knowing his brother was still alive, walking around on his own two feet, still sick but on the mend. Kind of. It had felt like an unreachable prayer just two days ago.

If Dean thought about where they'd been then compared to where they were now in only that small span of time...

Well, now Dean was thinking about it and he was getting emotional. He coughed, cleared the watery mist from his vision by rubbing his eyes. He got up to clear the dishes away before going to meet Sam in the library.

When he strolled in, Sam starting snapping his fingers. Dean turned towards his brother and found Sam freaking out over something on the computer. Still, snapping?

"Don't snap at me," Dean grumbled indignantly, picking up his pace. Sam gave him a look and switched to loud, cacophonous clapping for him to get over there.

"Okay seriously stop it," Dean laughed as he came around to face the computer monitor. Sam wasn't amused. He had a video pulled up and clicked 'play' as soon as he knew Dean was watching.

"Sam, Dean. I've set up this message with some software on a remote server so it'd send itself to you if I didn't reset it with a command once a week. Which means I didn't reset it this week. And there's only one reason I wouldn't. Which means if you're watching this, then I... then I- I'm dead. I'm dead, you bastards! So screw you, screw God and everybody in between!

"Crowley must've gotten to me. And the one thing I know is that I won't break this time. Not sure how I know, but... but I do. I've been uploading all my notes, the translations, I'm sending you the links so you can get all of it. You guys are gonna have to try to figure out the rest. I'm sorry. I know it was my job but I - but I couldn't...

"I'm sorry."

Dean stared at the monitor for a second.

"Wait but he's not dead, right? Cas said he was kidnapped."

Sam looked at Dean, stricken, and shrugged. He hunched over to write on the legal pad.

"We don't know 100% either way."

Dean swore and slapped the table. He paced as Sam followed up, clicking on all Kevin's links. A minute or two later Dean heard more sharp snaps from Sam and walked back up to look at the computer. Instead Sam held up his legal pad: "I want to print this stuff out and do some research. Maybe we can figure out what the third trial is ourselves."

Dean lifted an eyebrow at his brother. Sam huffed back at him, determined. "Fine, Ariel." Sam made a face as Dean settled into a chair next to him. "The day you're good to get up and walk around I should'a known you'd want to research," he muttered and disregarded the shove to his shoulder Sam delivered in answer.

Dean made sure Sam had eaten lunch, then promptly zoned out as Sam resumed his nerd boy research mode. Feet up on the table, head tilted over the back of the chair, and still dressed in loose sweats, it was nice to just doze.

Sam kept on working, feeling much better and so pleased to be active and healthy enough that Dean could relax and get some shut-eye next to him.

Things went on pleasantly like that until Castiel appeared suddenly before them.

"Hello," he greeted, startling Sam with a gasp. Sam breathed 'Ca' and got out of his chair to greet the angel.
"Yes, it is me." He studied Sam for a moment then winced. "You can't speak?"

Sam pursed his lips and shrugged, nodding. He turned back to his brother to shake him awake.

"No-no-no, not like mermaids, you idiot," Dean grumbled. Sam snapped in Dean's ear then shoved his feet off the table. "Ow! Dude," Dean grunted as his legs thunked to the floor. "What the hell!"

"Dean," Castiel spoke.

"Cas!" He called, unable to deny a smile at the sight of the angel. "Where's Kevin? Is he really dead?"

"No, I have him. May I bring him into the bunker?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah yes absolutely." Dean responded for the both of them. "Is he okay?"

"Somewhat," Castiel said evenly, betraying nothing. "I can only bring him to the entrance of the bunker. Humans are barred from entry without going through the portal first."

Sam mentally logged that as a question to ask later when he could speak: how could Cas just zip in and out of the bunker? Wasn't this place warded against everything including angels?

"Sure thing but-" Cas cut him off by disappearing. Dean huffed and turned to his brother.

"What the hell does 'somewhat' mean?"

Sam shrugged. Dean sighed angrily and stomped his way towards the bunker's entrance. Sam followed and Dean glanced behind when he took his first couple of steps up the iron staircase. Dean could see it in the way Sam moved it was too much.

"Sam. Stay there. I'll bring him down," Dean ordered lightly. Sam paused, clearly debating whether to fight Dean on it. Much to Dean's approval, he nodded with mature resignation and backed off to sit in the nearest chair in map room.

When Dean got upstairs to the entrance he cranked the door open and found Kevin unconscious and hanging off Castiel.

"Holy shit, Cas, is he okay?!" Dean asked, alarmed, as he reached out to help. They brought him through the threshold. Dean found himself alone suddenly as Cas just vanished with Kevin.

They reappeared together right next to a seated Sam. At their sudden arrival, Sam let out a guttural cry of shock and nearly fell over in his chair as he tried to stumble up and out of it. Dean would've been laughing for ages if they didn't have more important things to address.

Cas placed Kevin into a map room chair as Dean rushed downstairs. As Dean helped Sam back into his chair, Sam's concerned eyes glanced to him, a furtive look that guiltily conveyed his dependence on Dean to communicate properly for them both. Dean acknowledged it in stride, not missing a beat. He stood and turned to the angel.

"Cas. What's going on?"

"I can't stay long. I found Kevin, got him away from Crowley."

Sam started scribbling on his legal pad and Cas's face morphed into confusion.

"He can't talk," Dean supplied. Cas looked to Dean then back to Sam.

"Sam, just pray to me."

Sam threw his pen down and lightly smacked his forehead. He swivelled his chair to face Cas directly and prayed his question.

Cas's eyes were engaged and open, clearly in the act of listening even as the room was so still and quiet.

"Crowley was trying to get Kevin to translate the second half of the demon tablet," Cas answered. Then listened. "No, he didn't. Or hasn't. I don't know, he might... be able to now..."

"Wait, what?" Dean interjected. "Bring me into the prayer radio loop, guys."

"Kevin hasn't translated the third trial," Cas explained. "When he comes to, he might be able to. In the meantime I'm going to try to find someone."

"Who?" Dean asked at the same time Sam prayed the same question. Castiel blinked and sighed.

"Metatron."

"He's still around?!"

Castiel shrugged.

"He might be," he shrugged, an endearingly human gesture. Sam and Dean nodded. They understood. It was a shot in the dark. But as the only able-bodied agent between the three of them, Castiel felt the obligation to try rested upon him. In a way, it absolutely did.

"Crowley tried to kill Kevin. I saved him just in time. He's healed but still weak. He'll wake up soon. I want to leave him here with you, is that acceptable?"

"Yeah, 'course. You sure you don't want to take a minute too?" Dean offered, worried about how haggard his friend looked. Sam felt a similar sentiment and though he didn't pray it to Cas, the angel sensed it just the same.

For the first time Cas managed a small, infinitesimal smile, touched by the invite.

"Thank you but... no. I must go."

Dean kept his gaze fixed on the angel, assessing the sincerity of Cas's words. He seemed to rule them honest.

"You know where we'll be," Dean said evenly. Cas's eyes pierced into Dean's and Dean prayed to Cas that they were good.

For another brief moment the brothers both witnessed a vulnerable expression in Castiel, relief and love mingling together as he glanced between Sam and Dean. It was fleeting but it was as though the angel had been recharged. He straightened with confidence and determination and a smile appeared by just the smallest measure.

"Yes," he confirmed. "Thank you," he added softly.

He disappeared.

Sam and Dean shared a meaningful look, Sam sympathetic and Dean resolved. Castiel had a place with them and would always have a place with them. They would make an effort to be crystal clear on that more often.

Quickly though, they had to divert their attention to their new charge, unconscious and sprawled on the chair near them. Sam inwardly cursed his mutism, wishing his appraisal of the poor wretched kid before them could be voiced. Then again, this was his brother. If anyone could read his mi-

"What a hot mess," Dean muttered, folding his arms and staring at the boy. Sam huffed a guilty laugh and nodded in agreement.

A/N: Originally published 4/7/2014, revised 8/12/2019.

Thank you so much for reading and leaving all your amazing feedback/comments! Please comment/review on this one if you can spare the time! ~ Alex