Hello! Today it is exactly one year from when I finished revising this whole story. Wow. Time to get a move on with new chapters, eh?! 👀

This chapter is a 2k+ bridge with a couple sweet moments. Highly recommend reading the last chapter to smoothly read this one. It also mentions everything I think I needed to remember to get the balling rolling on the rest of the story. If I missed something, please let me know!

🎊🎉::releases the balloons party poppers:: Here we go!🎊🎉

Sam had been up puttering around since five-thirty that morning. He'd taken a a long, hot shower, brushed his teeth until his breath was minty fresh, and his hands were steady enough for a blissfully close shave. For the first time in what felt like years, he'd felt clean and put-together. Whatever happened last night nagged him but he decided he'd dwell on it later. There were so few moments he could indulge himself; he now took them when they came.

He cherished the time alone, too. Or it was more that he was just the only one awake with Dean and Kevin sleeping in the beds nearby. He didn't dare make any loud noises. Instead he just appreciated the sounds of the nearby highway and closer still, morning birds trilling, the last crickets of the season chirping. Dean and Kevin just being there, their slow breaths, had a calming effect on Sam as he sipped his coffee.

He watched over them.

His eyes misted, this inexplicable longing for things to just stay like this enveloping him.

Before he unraveled he quickly and quietly stepped back over to Dean's bed, set his coffee on the nightstand, and laid down. There was space; Dean was on his side of the bed closer to the door. He was on his back, arms lazily crossed over his chest. He opened his eyes a slit, barely awake as the bed moved under Sam's weight.

"Sorry." Sam didn't want to wake Dean but he couldn't help himself from apologizing. "Jus' wanna rest," he whispered.

Dean muttered something like "ah huh" and smacked his lips before nodding off again. Sam sighed and settled against the mattress, a sense of peace filtering into him from Dean's direction. The proximity to his brother soothed, helped him feel secure enough to build up the notion that everything was going to work itself out for the best. Sam breathed and closed his eyes, content to bask in this feeling for as long as he could.

Around six-thirty, Kevin woke up. Sam faked sleep. The prophet quietly made his way out. Sam assumed he went back to his room to shower and wash up. When the door closed, Dean hadn't opened his eyes but he found Sam's wrist. Sam tilted his head over to his brother.

"Dean?"

"You still okay S'my?"

"Yup," Sam answered on a deep, satisfied sigh. "Still feeling good."

Dean swallowed and nodded, squeezed Sam's wrist before letting it go.

That was when Sam had an idea. He unplugged his phone from the charger on the nightstand.

Dean was on cloud nine. When he woke up, Sam was still good, he was even hungry, and so Kevin had graciously retrieved breakfast for them. Fresh bacon and blueberry waffles and the other half of Sam's eggs benedict had hit the spot.

Sam had further bolstered his spirits during the meal by explaining how there were some spells worth researching that he'd archived online from the bunker. They were supposed to fortify and strengthen souls. He explained his theory that reinforcing his soul might help him survive the third trial.

"If I have to channel God's grace, strengthening my soul sounds advantageous, right?"

"I have no idea but it sounds right," Dean offered, nodding encouragingly. Sam's dimples deepened, his eyes embers of tempered excitement.

Dean listened carefully to the rest of what Sam had to say. It didn't sound like it could hurt trying at all, so by the time Sam was through, despite his wariness with spellcraft, Dean was convinced. Kevin was too.

Sam was cautiously proud and excited. He told them he still had some research to do but he already knew a few ingredients; he'd look up some metaphysical shops along their route to pick them up.

Kevin left to go back to his room for a few minutes before they checked out. Sam was hunched over his phone looking at the screen when Dean squeezed his shoulder. Sam looked up.

"This is really good." Dean gestured to Sam's phone. Sam breathed and nodded with a smile, eyes bright. Dean backed off, tapping Sam's back as he turned. "Good job, Sammy." He turned away. He got his keys and shrugged his jacket on. When he turned back around Sam had returned to his phone but this time with a faint blush and an easy smile.

It didn't take much to make Sam happy. He'd never grow out of being told he'd done a good job studying. Nerd.

It wasn't long before they had to hit the road. Everybody - except Sam, who was taking his sweet time - filtered out into the parking lot to pile into their respective vehicles. Dean felt extra sorry over Kevin's forlorn expression as he got behind the wheel of the van next to an oblivious Metatron. He had found something to fidget with under the dashboard. Dean predicted he would break it any minute now.

He bit his lip, watching Kevin bicker with Metatron. Maybe there was a subtle way to convince the angel to go ahead of them and just meet them at Shelter Bay in a few days. Dean made a mental note to float the idea past Sam once they were on their way. If anyone could talk the voice of God into that it'd be the pre-law dork in Sam. In the meantime Kevin would just have to endure. Dean idly looked at his baby and the thought occurred to him that at least the angel and prophet weren't sharing a bench seat. For the brothers in the Impala it was an extra reassuring closeness but having no console barrier between driver and shotgun would be extra tribulation for any pair on bad terms. So there was that going for them.

Kevin made a pitchy noise of pleading outrage that sounded something like, "I can't fix it!"

On second thought Dean didn't think mentioning that silver lining would be a great idea.

Kevin got his van going and let it idle so the old engine could warm up after a chilly night. They all waited for Sam to come out. Dean had already spared his brother the embarrassment of taking the universe blanket out to the car so what was he doing? Dean gazeed over to their motel room door just as it opened and Sam appeared. He was squinting under the cloudless sky, the sun lighting up his pale complexion. His clothes hung off him differently now that he was thinner. His weight loss had deepened his dimples when he smiled... but he was smiling as he stepped into the morning sunshine, and that was what mattered most to Dean. Also, his hair looked nice. After his shower the strands had dried to soft chocolate silk that gleamed outside and Dean snickered to himself how it was a dead giveaway that Sam had been liberal with the motel conditioner during his shower.

Despite last night's misadventure and even now knowing his little brother couldn't possibly be on the mend, with moments like these there was hope.

Sam had insisted on carrying his own bag too. It was still the green duffel because Cas hadn't come back yet to get the memo Sam's beloved blue one had to be retrieved for whatever reasons, upon which speculation unfailingly threw Dean into a brooding mood so he willfully dismissed those thoughts. He had to enjoy this, the present, a weary but happy little brother approaching him.

Sam waved to Kevin and Metatron as he walked over. They didn't see. Sam wasn't bothered. When he got to the Impala, Dean murmured a low, "you good?"

Sam rolled his shoulders back. "Yeah, actually. I do." Sam gave a tentative smile. Dean nodded, pleased. Sam threw his duffel into the back and made his way around the car to settle into the passenger seat. Dean got in at the same time.

They drove, bound for Shelter Bay, Washington.

Dean led with Baby, Kevin following behind in the van with Metatron. They got back on I-80 west, took a couple state highways to avoid any late-morning traffic around Cheyenne and got onto I-25 north.

Sam wanted to research his Men of Letters archive more. He took out his laptop, then paused and sighed: a low drum of discomfort had begun between his eyes and he knew he shouldn't ignore it. It was familiar pain though, nothing to worry about as a trial symptom. It was just from starting around six-thirty that morning, hunching and squinting at pdf files of parchment notes that'd been scrawled in cryptic cursive. He knew doing more in the car would crash waves of nausea down on him though so he let it go for the time being. His laptop sat closed in his lap as he stared out at the horizon, let his thoughts drift.

Dean made him a double take. "You not researching?"

"I have the tiniest headache in the world. I want it to go away first."

"Take something for it."

"Nah it'll go away on its own."

Dean nodded and shrugged. Sam breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Dean wasn't stressing out about it, so Sam could relax about it.

Sam peered over at his brother's profile. Dean was as pale as he was. He could see his freckles a little bit, wished he was a little more sun-kissed because that was when they'd get really visible. When he was a kid he counted them and mapped them out just like the the universes on his blanket back then. Also where the new one was bundled in the back.

"Hey," Dean spoke up, sensing Sam was already focused on him so he might as well talk. "You think there's any way to convince Metatron to go ahead to Shelter Bay and we just meet him there?"

"I gotta ask him about these soul spells first."

"So you think you could really convince him?"

"Maybe," Sam hedged. Inwardly he was doubtful. Dean chewed on his lip in thought.

"Why don't you ask Cas about the soul stuff when he gets back?"

"Think I should hide it from Metatron?"

"It'd be smart," Dean undertoned, "but also he's a piece of work and if you can get the same information from Cas," he trailed off because Sam was already nodding.

"Yeah," Sam agreed half-heartedly.

They lapsed into quiet again. Dean turned up the volume on a CCR tape. Have You Ever Seen the Rain rolled through the interior and Sam circled back around to the night before.

"Kevin didn't seem that different with me this morning."

Dean made a face and turned the music down. "Why would he be?"

"What happened last night, Dean?"

Dean pursed his lips together reproachfully and opened his mouth to reply but Sam got there first.

"And don't say it was nothing because if it was as simple as just sleepwalking out of my bed and into yours with the blanket then you'd be making so many jokes at my expense right now, man."

Dean's jaw clenched. He gave Sam a reluctant smile. "You got me there."

Sam didn't have the energy to fume exactly but he could glare. It felt off not knowing what happened; he felt guilty even though whatever had happened wasn't his fault... probably. He'd have to know what happened to be certain.

"Kevin woke up, found you in the corner of the room and woke me up. I got you back to bed. The end. Happy?"

"No," Sam replied immediately on little brother instinct, bristling from Dean's tone and not from anything he'd actually said. "Yes," he corrected himself. "I mean I know you're leaving out a lot but... whatever," he breathed.

"It is whatever. It wasn't anything."

"Right," Sam huffed sadly. He rolled his eyes to look out the windshield, then his side window.

They drove into overcast weather towards Wyoming. After a few minutes, in a completely unprecedented move, Dean put this palm over Sam's hand where it lay between them on the seat.

When Sam felt the grip, he thought Dean was trying to get his attention. He looked over expectantly and lightly asked "What?"

Further questions were clipped short when he saw Dean was just... keeping his eyes on the road, acting like nothing was happening. He even deftly signaled and changed lanes while holding Sam's hand.

It was like Dean's hand suddenly had a mind of its own and it had decided it needed to be with Sam's. Sam fought against laughter because he knew it wasn't true. Dean was very much connected to this hand and if he laughed Dean might pull away and that was honestly the last thing Sam wanted.

Sam could smile though, so he did, and then he turned his hand under Dean's grip so their palms could slide together, and they both held each other that way as the Impala ate up yellow lines on damp asphalt under cloudy skies.

A/N: Cake time 🎂 😄 Thank you so much for reading - please comment+kudos if you can spare the time (even a happy emoji gets me smiling)

Also please do not hesitate to stop by a href=" " rel="nofollow" my tumblr/a and say hi

Thank you again ~ Alex