Dean's emerald eyes blinked slowly for a few moments and adjusted to the diffused motel lights. He felt worse than any weekend bender he had ever been on. His brother paced mere inches away from him. Observing Sam's bristled posture for a few moments, Dean had never witnessed this level of anxiety in Sam. Sam had never been this close to the edge. His brother settled on the adjacent bed, his leg twitching and tapping in an intentional effort to return to some moment of peace. Sam sprang back up from the bed as if was escaping hot coals. His mind was still racing with anger and fear of loss.

Dean mouthed the word "Sammy", but his brother was lost in innermost thought- the emotions that threatened to break thorough Sam's external façade of control. With a deep breath Sam attempted to calm himself and plopped back in the chair. At that moment, Dean's own armor was chinked by his brother's internal struggle to regain calm. Hisdesperation to reach Sammy-- to keep Sam away from the darkness, to keep the only thing he had in the world safe, gave him strength to mumble past his parched desert-dry mouth.

"Sammy"

"Dean..de..?" Sam's mouth fluctuated between a smile and a quiver. His doe eyes glistened with the threat of bursting. Taking a deep breath, Sam's teeth chattered before he could speak again. "Are you okay?" blurted out not as a question but a plea.

"Yeah...I think..." spilled out in a scratchily groan. Dean struggled to clear his throat.

Before Dean could ask for water, Sam was already sprinting to a small refrigerator. The corner of Dean's mouth smirked and a quiet laugh came out as a sigh. Sam's hasty return permitted for no other reaction.

Sam carefully helped Dean take sips from the bottle. Dean didn't know who was in shoddier shape: Him or Sammy. He knew Sam needed him and he could keep his brother away from brink. Trying to ease Sam's mind, Dean did what Dean Winchesterdoes best- avoid the subject.

"Hey Sam" came out more easily now. "How much tequila did I drink."?

"Very funny…..You've been asleep for 10 hours."

"Damn and I was...trying for my own personal record of 15.

"Dean...you were..." A sob sprang forth. "You were dead... I looked inyour eyes."

"Sam. Stop it. I'm okay. I'm a resilient guy"

"Yeah that's why you were out for 10 hours DEAN!" Sam screamed infrustration.

"Nah.. I just didn't want to wake up from an awesome dream. This groupof chicks locked me in a basement….Whew…ha.. DUDE, it was so awesome!" Deanpoured on the trademark Winchester bravado with his tongue in cheek humor.

The amazing part was it made Sam pull more to his true nature. He shook his head and rolled his eyes disapprovingly. Yet the idea Dean was well enough to be an ass brought him more peace that any other words that could be said. He loved Dean and he knew Dean loved him. They didn't have to say it. Dean knew Sam would always fight to save him, just as Sam knew Dean would always fight to save him.

Sam turned and smiled infectiously "Man you're a perv!"

Dean scooted himself up, resting his back against the padded headboard. Sam reached out to assist, but Dean quickly swatted away his hand.

"Dude, I'm fine. Just go do…Something."

Luckily, Bobby knocked at the barricade door before Sam could fuss over Dean any further. Marching to the door, Sam removed the obstruction and opened the motel door. Bobby's arms were full of brown paper bags and two huge duffels. Snatching several of bags, Sam rested them on the desk by his computer. Bobby started to speak to Sam, but sentiment stole him when he spied Dean sitting upright.

"Hey! Kiddo, how you doing!" Bobby said more exuberantly than normal. Dean nodded his head in acknowledgment. Turning his attention to Sam; Bobby noticed Sam's composure had been restored. He was thankful, the deck was now stacked in their favor. With relief, Bobby poured out the contents of the brown bags.

An assortment of hand guns, an industrial bug sprayer, and the ultimate prize- a jug of blood- scattered on the table. "I told you we weren't going to hurt Dean. You need to have some faith, Son. We had other victims."

Sam could have kicked himself for not thinking of it.

"So what are we doing?" Dean chimed in from across the room.

"You... I don't think you are up for anything." Sam said commandingly.

"Sure, I am" Dean struggled to scoot to the end of the bed, forced himself to stand, cocked his head in triumph, gave a devilish grin, and fell face first to the floor.

"He's ready" Sam and Bobby said in unison.

"Guys...a little help here.. Guys?...uh.. come on…. I'm sucking up carpet dust bunnies here!"