-1Sam woke up with a mouthful of sand and a headache that threatened to rip apart his skull. Slipping out of bed -almost crushing Chris- and stumbling into the bathroom, he rummaged around the cracked mirror-cabinet for some Aspirin, failing to find any, he instead swallowed half a bottle of something he couldn't pronounce that was supposed to 'relieve head, neck, back, stomach and period pains', fortunately for Sam he hadn't started his 'time of the month' yet so the foul smelling liquid only helped his head. Turning the leaky tap on, Sam ran the water for a few minutes before cupping his hands together and slurping it down his throat quickly, the dryness - and bad taste from the medicine - vanished quickly. Staring into the mirror for a moment, Sam realised that he could see something he didn't like; there was a fear in his eyes that hadn't existed earlier, a dark knowing that whatever bad was coming was related to Chris. Sam knew it. Maybe. But he couldn't believe it, he had already put so much faith into the kid, how could he doubt him now? Sure, he had no basis to trust him, but the fact that he hadn't ran to the cops shouting that he'd been kidnapped was a good sign.

Right?

'Penny for your thoughts?'

Sam turned and found himself squinting through morning eyes at Chris who was leaning against the doorway. He was wearing the same clothes as yesterday and looked thoroughly dishevelled, the mop of brown hair on his head sticking out as strange directions was enough to make Sam chuckle. Almost. Automatically Sam's eyes flashed towards the markings on Chris' wrist which were barely visible, but as soon as Sam saw them - felt them - a splitting pain coursed through his skull as he saw them etched in flesh on somebody's chest. He shook his head, he didn't want to worry Chris. He also didn't want to alert him that he was suspicious. Sam forced a grin, eyes now resting onto to Chris' electric blue ones that Sam hadn't paid any attention to before, but they were oddly hypnotising…

'Did you just saw 'penny for your thoughts'?' Sam asked, raising one eyebrow expertly. Chris blushed and looked down at the floor, cheeks tinged with red.

'It's 9am, you try thinking of something wittier,' he said, abashed. Sam's grin now had a slightly real gleam to it as he shook his head. Awkwardly, he put a hand on his bare chest, expecting to find a thread he could nervously fiddle with before he realised what time it was, and that he was stood in nothing but his boxers. So maybe there's another reason why Chris is so embarrassed.. Sam found himself thinking, before shaking his head again, appalled with himself. On the other hand, Chris was using everything inside of him to stop himself from pushing Sam against the basin and forcing his tongue into his mouth, hands would be braver though, running across Sam's chest and going lower and lower until they would play idly - and expectantly - with the waistband of Sam's boxers before he began t-

Chris blinked, forcing these images out of his head with grim determination. Frowning slightly, he looked up at Sam who was looking at him strangely. Shuffling his feet slightly, Chris realised something. 'Hey, Sam, where'd Dean go?'

Sam's eyebrows raised again and he suppressed a yawn, now looking vaguely confused. 'Dean? What, he's not in bed?' Chris shook his head, shrugging slightly. Suddenly, Sam was overcome by that deep and primal feeling that something was horribly wrong. A cold sweat had begun to form on Sam's body and he quickly moved from where he was to the bedroom, pushing past Chris roughly who inhaled sharply. Staring at the bed that Dean had slept in the night previously, the feeling that had been festering inside of him threatened to overwhelm him.

'Sam? What is it, what's wrong?' Chris asked, now looking worried, the fear that Sam felt mirrored in his eyes.

'It's Dean, his… his bed's made,' Sam said uncertainly, running his hand across the perfectly made sheets on Dean's bed. 'Dean.. He doesn't make his bed.'

Chris was looking at him like he was crazy, but it didn't matter. It wasn't like Dean, it was out of place. The room seemed to grow colder as Sam's fingers grabbed the same scratchy sheets softly, the fear bit Sam's insides as he pulled the sheets back forcefully, casting them aside. Sam's breath caught inside his throat.

He heard Chris moan softly, turning away with his hand over his mouth.

Underneath the sheet was blood, lots and lots of blood. It looked as if a painter had splashed red hues like a toddler. The metallic odour had risen now the sheets weren't suppressing it, and it assaulted Sam's senses maliciously. Sam tried to inhale but he couldn't, oxygen froze inside his throat and turned into broken glass, cutting his insides. The horror subsided slightly as Sam looked closer at the bloody sheets, an idea forming in his head. 'Chris?'

Chris came forward, cringing at the smell of blood that assaulted him as he stood dangerously close to Sam. 'Y-Yeah?'

'I need you to do something for me.' It wasn't a request, and Sam knew that Chris was aware what he had to do.

'No, I can't, but..' Chris looked at the sheets, then slowly, turned his gaze to Sam. 'I can if you help me, you'll See, too.'

Sam nodded grimly. Chris took a moment to centre himself, gathering his strength, slowly, almost painfully slowly, he reached out a hand and touched the sheets, fingers finding the bloodiest area he could. Cringing, wincing, gagging, Chris put his hand firmly into Dean's blood. Sam felt a huge surge of admiration for him, then as Chris reached out with his other hand, Sam took it firmly. He squeezed the boy's fingers, but the act of comfort was passed over as Chris began concentrating. Once he began, there was no room in his head to focus on the fact that the smoking hot Winchester brother was almost naked and holding his hand in his stronger one, he could only see the blood. The blood. The blood and Dean, Dean, the blood, Dean..

He's alone in a room, shacked to the wall but not by any physical means, he's crying out as an out-of-sight person is hitting him, bruises and contusions decorate Dean's body. He's screaming now, not because of the pain but because he's scared, terrified for his brother, he's mouthing the word 'Sammy' but there's nobody there. Dean knows he's going to die. He's going to die and then they'll come after Sammy and rip him limb from limb and dance in his blood and rip his skin from his body and..

They were back in the room. The sheets with the blood were the only thing Sam could focus on until he sank to his knees, the vicelike grip he had on Chris' hand dragged him down with him. Chris stared at Sam who seemed utterly broken, tears shone in his eyes but he held them back, Chris paused before reaching out and putting a hand on Sam's face, stroking his cheek gently. 'S-Sam? It'll be.. It'll be okay, I promise, we'll get him back..' Sam turned, raising his hand and placing it on Chris', holding the boy's hand to his face. Chris' face coloured again and he looked down before Sam raised it with his other hand. 'S-Sam, what're yo-?' he was cut off as Sam crushed their mouths together, Chris' eyes widened but he wasn't complaining, he lent into the kiss more, as Sam opened his mouth hungrily, their tongues now grappling. They kissed for what seemed forever before Chris broke it, licking his lips nervously. Sam was crying. 'It wasn't that bad, was it?' Chris whispered, smiling slightly but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Sam held down a sob, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to Chris'. They stayed like that until Sam had calmed down, he was sniffling, but Chris made no movement to pull away, instead he reached out and wiped some of Sam's tears away. 'We'll get him back.'

Sam nodded.

'We will, we just… we just need to find some leads.'

'We've already got one,' Sam said softly.

'W-What? Really?'

Sam nodded again, quickly kissing Chris on the side of the mouth, just because. 'Yeah, he wasn't saying Sammy.'

Chris closed his eyes, hands travelling down Sam's back as he pushed closer to the man, needing his body heat.

'He was saying Nephilim.'

Chris shuddered.

'And I know now…'

Chris screwed his eyes together.

'.. That you're one of them.'