Disclaimer: Still don't own anything…although I wish I own Sam,….and Dean for that matter….

A/N: Im not christian or any religion for that matter. So I have no clue about religious customs or anything, besides what I see in the movies/ on television. Forgive me if I made any mistakes!

Oh, and I have no idea why Jim became a Pastor in the first place. Just thought I'd point out the obvious! Thanks for the reviews, people! Enjoy!

Part Four: Say you believe in me

How many loved your moments of grace

And loved your beauty with love false or true

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you

And loved the sorrows of your changing face

- When you are old, WB Yeats

-

Dean could feel his heart pounding painfully in his chest as Sam knelt with the pastor in the circle. He could hear the soft sound of their combined voiced murmuring in Latin and he clenched his hands wordlessly.

This wasn't right. There was no way Sammy was possessed. He would know, wouldn't he? He had practically raised Sammy, had grown up with him, taught him everything he knew. In the kitchen when those pained eyes had met his, all he could see was the baby he had once held, the four year old clutching his hand when he started walking, the six year old whose eyes had been alight with curiosity. The ten year old laughing, the thirteen year olds unhappy eyes as he had left on countless hunts with his father.

A strong hand fell on his shoulder, and he knew wordlessly that it was Caleb. A part of him was furious at his father; shouldn't he be the one offering comfort? Shouldn't he be the one who was infuriated at the mere idea that his son was possessed?

He knew about the fight that had happened last night. He had heard Sammy crying in their room, but he had done nothing to comfort him as he usually did and the guilt of that bit at him like a rabid dog.

And now Sammy was acting like he had been condemned to death by the very people who loved him. He was one of those people. He should be down there with him.

Caleb bent down to speak in his ear as the pastor got to his feet.

"Keep it together Dean-o. Sammy's a strong kid. He'll get through this just fine," he murmured.

Dean said nothing. He kept his eyes riveted on Sammy's kneeling form, whose head was bent as he stared fixedly at the ground.

Coloured light from the churches windows washed over the still form of his baby brother, and Dean felt like taking him in his arms and protecting him from everything the way he had done when he was younger.

Sam was his entire world. He didn't know what he'd do if something happened to Sam but he knew that a large piece of his heart would be gone.

The Pastor said a few inaudible words to Sam, who nodded and stayed where he was. He watched as Jim left the circle and walked around the stone podium to where a book lay open.

Jim picked it up and stood in front of Sam once more. At John's tight nod, he began to speak quietly, though the Latin words of the ritual rang true and clear within the quiet confines of the church.

"This isn't right," Dean whispered, his throat tight.
"But it's necessary. For all of our sakes," John's gravel voice replied. "So keep quiet and be ready."

"In case he's possessed you mean?" Dean asked defiantly.

"That's exactly what I mean. I don't like this any more than you do so cut me a bit of slack will you?" John's voice was quiet, and there was an odd hitch to it that made Dean look at him in alarm. His father's eyes were fixated on Sam though.

"We're doing this to save him, Dean, not condemn him."

Dean turned his head to watch as Jim continued to ritual. Sam remained still, but Dean began to pick up on signs of his discomfort almost immediately.

The tensing of his shoulders, the slight tilt of his head and the very slight restless twitching were signs that Dean had been able to read since he was a toddler.

The all of a sudden, Sam groaned and slumped over onto his side struggling for breath. And before he knew it, Dean had shaken off Caleb's restraining hand and was racing towards him. He skidded to a halt and crashed to his knees just outside of the circle.

"Sammy? Sammy can you hear me?"

With another pained groan, Sam slowly rolled towards him, somehow managing to keep within the chalk circle.

"Look at me Sammy!" Dean begged desperately. "What's wrong?"

"Hurts," was the whispered reply. "It hurts..."

Sammy grey eyes were clouded with pain, and squeezed them shut with a whimper.

"Make it stop, Dee..."

Dean's heart wrenched at the use of Sammy's nickname for him. It was what he had called Dean when he was first learning to talk, and he occasionally still used it when he was afraid or in pain.

"I can't, Sammy," Dean replied, his voice trembling. "It'll be over soon, I promise."

He looked up at Jim, who was watching them as he spoke and then back down to Sammy, who was sprawled on the floor now with his eyes closed and his brow wrinkled with pain.

"Just breathe Sammy. It'll be okay, you'll see."

And suddenly, Jim had finished. He knelt down in front of Sam and touched his chest slightly as Dean grabbed his hand.

"Sam, can you open your eyes for me?" Jim asked softly.

Sam did as he was asked, slits of grey blue appearing under his half open eyelids.

John and Caleb joined them, and John slid to his knees beside his youngest. Dean watched as he gathered Sam close and looked at the Pastor.

"I thought you said it wouldn't be painful," he accused, narrowing his eyes at Jim.

"It wasn't supposed to be," his replied, resting his hands on his thighs. "The only reason it would have been painful was if he was..."

"A psychic," Caleb finished. "Like me."

"A psychic?" Dean asked shocked. "But Sammy's not..."

"Sammy's not a psychic," John stated firmly. "So why did it hurt him?"

"You're right," Jim said. "He's not. But he is sensitive. Slightly empathic to anything supernatural and I have no idea why or how, but there it is."

"So what was it?" Dean asked shakily, laying his hand on Sam's forehead. "He wasn't possessed right? So what was it?"

"I'm still not sure. But whatever it was, it's gone now." Jim replied grimly. "It left it's fingerprints though. But nothing evil let me assure you."

"He's been cleansed then?"

Jim nodded and stroked a hand over Sam's hair. "Yes. And he did very well. He was very brave."

Sam seemed to rouse a little then and John hugged him tighter.

"You're okay Sammy. Let's get you to bed hey? Then you can rest," John murmured into his hair. Deans heart was in his throat when he met his fathers eyes and was witness to the despair in his eyes. It made him wonder yet again what his ideas were for keeping Sammy safe.

-

Dean watched Sam sleep. His younger brother was lying on his stomach, his arms curled into his chest and his face turned towards Dean. Long, unruly brown hair fell in gentle waves over his forehead, and his long dark eyelashes rested on lightly freckled cheeks.

Dean also lay on his stomach beside Sam, watching the slow rise and fall of Sam's back as he breathed and feeling the gentle fanning of his warm breath.

Even as he rested peacefully, Dean could almost feel the turmoil that plagued Sam. Sam was a dreamer, despite being so much like their father. Sam was everything that John Winchester could have been, and probably was once in the long distant past. Dean would fight to protect everything in Sam that made him so different and so special.

It was worth protecting.

Sammy slept on, and Dean stayed by his side.

-

Dean was woken early in the afternoon by Caleb shaking his shoulder gently.

"Get your ass up Dean. You need to get downstairs."

"What?" Dean groaned. "Why?"

"You father...just get up. And don't wake Sam."

Caleb left silently, and Dean buried his face in the pillow for a moment before glancing at Sam. He was still sleeping peacefully; he'd turned on his side to face Dean sometime during the afternoon.

With a quiet groan, Dean pushed himself up and got off the bed, stumbled out into the hallway.

Raised voices could be heard downstairs, and with a frown, Dean went downstairs and into the kitchen.

His father's bags were pack and sitting on the kitchen table as he argued in quiet tones with Jim. Caleb was sitting at the breakfast bar and polishing his guns, following the argument in silence. When Dean appeared in the doorway, John abruptly stopped talking.

"What's going on?" Dean asked as he wiped the sleep from his eyes. "Dad?"

John turned to face him, his eyes hard and his jaw set.

"Go pack your things Dean. We're leaving."

"What? Why, what's going on?" Dean asked, frowning as he glanced at Jim. The Pastor was unusually serious looking.

"John, please. I beg you to reconsider. This could be the worse choice to pick..."

"My minds made up, Jim. We're leaving. Dean I gave you an order."

"Maybe he's right, Johnny. It's not a good idea." Caleb spoke up as he glanced at Dean with a troubled look.

John turned to him. "When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it. Dean, why are you still standing there?"

"I'll go get Sammy up and we'll start packing." Dean turned to go.

"No Dean. We're leaving Sammy here."

He turned to face his father, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"For how long?"

"Indefinitely."

Dean felt like someone had sucker punched him in the gut.

"What? You can't be serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking? It's the best thing we can do for him now, Dean. You know as well as I do it's not safe for him anymore. At least this way he'll have a home at last."

Dean gaped at him dumbfounded. Surely he couldn't be serious. Sam was...

"You can't do this! You can't just abandon him! He's your son and he loves you! He needs you, god damnit!" Dean suddenly shouted, feeling tears spill down his cheeks.

He couldn't lose Sammy. He couldn't imagine his life without having Sam beside him, without having his grumpy face in the morning, or without being able to make him smile or laugh.

Sam was the spark that kept John and Dean going, and now they were just going to walk out on him.

"You think I want to leave my baby behind?" John asked hoarsely. "God Dean...this isn't the life I wanted for either of you but Sam? Sam doesn't belong to this life like we do. He's doesn't have what it takes. It's better this way."

"Is that what you're going to tell him?" Dean demanded. "That he's not good enough? That he doesn't live up to your expectations? That'll go down well! What he needs is his father! He needs me!"

"Sam isn't like us, Dean. He doesn't need to see the things that we do. To know what we do." John was being unusually calm and accepting of Dean rebellion and if anything it only served to worsen Dean's anger and despair. It meant that his father's mind wouldn't be changed and Dean felt like he was being torn in two.

"He's right." Caleb spoke up. "But I don't think leaving him is the best idea, John."

"I don't have any other choice," John said wearily. "Its for his own good."

"NO! You can't make me leave him. Let me stay here with him. I'll teach him everything he needs to know. You know that I can. Let me at least try."

"No Dean. I need you with me. I need your help. I promise we'll visit him as often as we can, but we need to get going. I don't want to leave him either, but we have no choice. We need to give him a chance to have his own life. One that's safe and doesn't involve hunting. Now...go and get your stuff together. I want to be packed before we wake Sam." John turned away, and Dean could see his shoulders droop as he gripped a chair in his hands and hung his head.

And there it was. Dean had a duty to both his father and to Sammy, and yet again he was being torn between the two. Forced to pick and then forced to try and heal wounds that he had no power to prevent. It made him slightly bitter, the way they pulled at him like two stray dogs fighting over a bone.

"I'll send you money for his upkeep whenever I can," John said quietly to Jim.

"You don't need to do that," Jim replied. "I have more than enough to share."

In a horrible way it made sense to Dean. Sam could have a chance at normal life if he stayed. He could go to one school, make friends. He wouldn't have to worry about where his next meal came from, or where he was going to sleep.

But it broke Dean's heart. And it was breaking his fathers heart as well. Sam was everything that they fought to protect in others. He was an example of all the good things in the world, and Dean would do anything to see that he remained uncorrupted by the evil they faced. But he didn't want to leave him.

He wiped the tears from his face with swift, jerky movements and left the room without another word.

-

"Dad? What's going on?" Sam asked, confused as he looked around him. Caleb was standing by his truck with his arms crossed and his eyes on the ground. Jim was on the steps of the church and Dean was standing behind his father, his eyes red and his face averted.

"I want you to listen to me carefully, son," John said, resting his hands on his shoulders.

Sam nodded and looked up at his father.

"You're going to stay with Jim from now on."

"Wh...But...Why? For how long."

"I don't know son. Indefinitely. Until I decide it's safe. Dean and I will call in whenever we can but I can't..."

"You're leaving me?" Sam asked shakily, looking at Dean for affirmation. But Dean swiped at his cheek and looked studiously at the ground, avoiding his eyes. "But why? What did I do?"

"Sam, listen. Are you listening to me?"

"I'm listening dad."

"You'll be safe if you stay here. You can have a normal life. I don't want you hunting. This is how it's got to be son."

"Dad, whatever it is I did, I'm sorry! I'll do better, I promise! I'll try harder!"

"Sam! I'm telling you that it's nothing you did. I'm doing this because it's necessary. Now," John paused to swallow and wipe away the tears that were running down Sam's face. "Chin up, boy. You do what Jim here tells you to and be good, okay? I'll call to check up on you as often as i can."

"Dad, please..." Sam whispered. "Why are you doing this? I said I was sorry."

"That's enough Sam." John murmured, resting his hand on Sam's head. "That's enough."

John closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to Sam's hair before he turned and went down the steps.

"Make it quick, Dean," he said gruffly.

Sam could only stare helplessly after his father until Dean moved closer.

"Sammy..."

Sam looked at him, and realised that Dean would be going too. Dean was leaving him too, and he'd be all alone. If Dean went, then he had nothing. Dean was everything ...

He threw himself into Dean's arms, feeling his strong embrace around him.

"Do something Dean! Talk to him!"

"I tried Sammy. He wouldn't listen to me," Dean whispered roughly into his hair. "I'm so sorry. I tried."

"I don't want you to leave! I need you! I said I was sorry didn't I?" Sam begged, looking up at Dean with a tear streaked face. "What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Sammy," Dean replied, his arms still around him. "It's all him."

Sam tried to hold in his despair, but the tears wouldn't stop. He buried his face in Dean's chest and sobbed with everything he had, the misery and the pain too raw and more unbearable than he ever imagined it could be.

"I love you Dean. Please stay with me.."

"I can't Sammy. I promise I'll call you every chance I get. I'm still your brother, Sam. I always will be, no matter what. I'll see you soon, I promise." Dean whispered. "I have to go Sammy."

Sam held on to Dean tightly, until Jim stepped forward and gently detangled him. Dean ran down the stairs without looking back and he flung himself into the Impala, slamming the door with far more force than necessary.

Jim pulled Sam to his side with an arm around his shoulders. And Sam watched numbly as the Impala sped away, taking with it everything that he loved in the world.

-

Jim had seen many horrible things in the world. He was a minister after all, and he'd witnessed the darkest depths of humanity. Women and children brutalised by the heavy hands of their husbands and fathers, homeless people who had once had the world in their hands and then lost it. People without hope, or love or anything in their wretched existences to ease their suffering. Tortured spirits, grieving souls so twisted by their fury and their injustices that they turned to evil to forget.

He had seen many orphans in his life, children not wanted by anyone. Children abandoned by their parents at all ages, but with Sam it struck deep at his core. Because that was essentially what had happened. John had made a decision to leave his youngest son behind, and he had walked out.

The Winchester family had more than it's fair share of problems but Jim had always known without a doubt that the love that bound them together was strong. The strongest form of love he had seen yet. It was a love forged by fire and blood and violence and it was fiercer than anything. And he had no doubt that John loved Sam beyond anything in this world. So why, why had he made such a terrible decision?

Sam's heart was broken, of that he was sure. He was numb and bleeding and broken on the inside and Jim could almost see the questions that tortured the poor boy endlessly, day in and day out.

It was obvious that the boy was lost. Lost without Dean who was his foundation and everything he had come to depend on. Betrayed, abandoned and numb.

For the next couple of days, Sam barely spoke a word. He hardly strayed from Jim's side, as though he was afraid that Jim, the last thing he had left, would leave him too. His appetite was non-existent, and he slept badly.

When he wasn't stuck to Jim's side like glue, he was sitting in the church staring up at those windows as if they would grant him the peace that he sought.

It fairly broke Jim's heart to see such suffering

The boys strength was weakening with his depleted appetite but try as he might, Jim couldn't get the boy to eat.

On the fourth day he caved and called John.

"Hello?" John's voice was rougher than usual, and Jim almost winced.

"It's me John."

There was a moments silence on the other end, filled with the noise of the Impala on whatever rough road they were travelling on.

"How is he doing?"

"I think you need to come back."

"We both know that's not going to happen, Jim."

"The boy's not eating. He's not sleeping, he's not doing anything. You've broken him, John, and it's your duty as a father to fix this. You NEED to fix this," Jim said urgently. "I know you think this is for the best, but you're not the one who had to watch that boy slowly pine himself to death, are you? Now come back before you do him, and your other son any more damage!"

John had been silent throughout Jim's speech, but he sighed heavily when he'd finished and Jim could hear him run his hand over the rough stubble on his face.

"I've got to go, Jim. Caleb and Dean are waiting for me. I'll call you back tonight, and talk to Sam okay?"

Jim sighed, knowing there was nothing more than he could do for now. "Fine. I'll talk to you later."

Jim hung up with a heavy heart, thinking that he had never been as angry as he was at that moment.

With a sigh, Jim stood and heading for the only place he knew that Sam would be.

The chapel was dark, save for the few candles that were still lit. The autumn air in the chapel was cool, and Jim ached with sympathy when he saw Sam sitting in the centre of the church, looking up at the wooden cross at the front of the church.

The boy hadn't cried since he had watched his father and brother drive off. But then, some hurts ran too deep to be justified by tears.

Jim sat down next to Sam and raised his own eyes up to the cross.

"You know, when I was your age, I didn't believe in god." Jim told him quietly. "I didn't believe in anything really."

"So how did you become a Pastor?" Sam's voice was quiet, almost inaudible, but it was a relief to hear it.

"My parents weren't religious. They were atheists in fact. I saw something one day that made me believe, and I have never looked back."

"What did you see?"

"I saw a little boy come back to life." Jim remembered quietly. "I was eighteen at the time. At a river with my family for a picnic. A boy had gotten tangled in some old fishing wire and had been dragged under. He was underwater long enough to stop breathing. By the time I'd dragged him out he was blue. The lifesavers worked on him for at least five minutes before they pronounced him."

Jim could still remember the way the boy's skin had looked, and how that chest hadn't moved. The way his eyes remained closed. He could still hear the boy's mother sobbing wretchedly in the back ground.

He could feel Sam looking at him now, and listening to him, and the relief he felt was immense. At least he had finally gotten his attention.

"So what happened?"

Jim smiled a little. "One minute he was lying there, completely still. They'd stopped working on him and were packing their things away when all of a sudden he started breathing again. Just like that. He opened his eyes and he looked at me as they fussed over him, and I had never seen a person so calm as I did for that instant. But when he was cradled in his mothers arms a few minutes later, he started crying. That was when I first started to suspect there was something bigger than us in this world.. He suffered no long term side affects. It was a miracle."

Sam nodded and was looking down at his hands.

"He thanked me for saving my life. Called me his guardian angel. I asked him if he was scared, and he said that when he had been trapped under that water, he had never been so terrified in his life. But then, right before he stopped breathing, he felt some sort of peace come over him. As if something had blessed him."

Of course it wasn't long after that that he had discovered what was really out there. And not long after that that he lost his family. Faith had been the only thing he had left, and he had to believe that they had gone to a better place. His faith had never wavered since.

Jim looked at Sam and noticed the tears that were brimming in the boys eyes, and he knew at last that he was getting somewhere.

"I know that right now it feels like you're drowning. And I know that nothing I can say will make this any easier for you. But I promise you, this won't be forever. And it won't be the last time you see your brother, or your father. This will all be sorted out. We've got to be patient. And we've got to have faith."

Jim heard the shuddering sob that Sam tried to hide.

"How can I..." he began, before shaking his head and grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes.

"How can you what, Sam?" Jim asked gently.

"I must have done something wrong. I just wish I knew what it was. Then maybe I could...make it right somehow. Maybe I could make him love me again. Like he used to when I was little." Sam whispered.

Jim's heart broke all over again, but he fought to compose his own burning emotions so he could at least offer the boy some form of logic, or comfort. He knew that if he couldn't do anything to rectify the situation then he needed to help ease Sam's suffering before he tore himself to shreds over this disaster.

"Is that what you think, Sammy? That he doesn't love you?"

Wordlessly, Sam nodded.

"Did you ever consider the fact that maybe he loves you too much?"

"What? Sam asked, with an incredulous snort of laughter.

"He loves you so much that he can't concentrate on what he needs to do. He's so worried about you being safe that he's willing to leave his youngest son. He's willing to suffer the pain of not having you in order to keep you safe." Jim told him, knowing that it was the truth. "No son, you are not right in that opinion. Your father loves you enough to let you go. To give you a chance at the life that he wanted you to have."

Sam was quiet for a long time after Jim said this, so they sat in silence, Jim contemplating the church while the boy beside him stared at his hands intensively.

There had been a time when Dean and Sam had been younger that Jim had convinced his friend that he needed to remain firm with the boys. He understood that it was hard to raise two young children by oneself, but he knew that John was a good father, and that his boys loved him fiercely. So fiercely in fact, that they were willing to fight for him. Willing to set aside their own dreams to help him on his quest.

The tragedy of the family was that they'd gotten so caught up in the hunt that they knew nothing else. They knew nothing of what life outside the hunt was like. And somewhere along the way, the communication between the three of them had begun to break down, despite the love. And love without communication almost always ended in disaster unless someone did something about it. Jim was certain that if something wasn't done about this situation, then the pain would be enough to tear the family apart. And the one with the most at stake was Sam.

"I want so much to hate him for doing this..."Sam whispered. "But I can't. I want to be with them. I want to see them. What do I do, Jim? Tell me what to do."

Jim pulled the boy close and rested his chin on the boys soft hair.

"You talk to your father. I'm sure that he'll come around. That Winchester stubborn streak has to be good for something, eh? And you certainly have a good dose of it yourself."

He felt Sam's small, broken laugh against he chest and smiled.

"Everything will sort it's self out, Sam. Remember that saying I told you once, when you had that fight with Dean and he told you that he didn't love you anymore?"

" 'Amor animi arbitrio sumitur, non ponitur?'" Sam asked, sniffing.

"That's the one. It's no less true now then it was then. Your father will come to understand the error of his decision. For now though, we need to have faith." Jim paused. "Why don't you pray with me for awhile?"

After a moment, Sam nodded, and he straightened up, leaving Jim's embrace and bowing his head as Jim did.

"In Latin?"

"Of course, my boy. No time like the present to brush up on those rusty skills," Jim smiled, knowing that he received a smile in return, no matter how small. "You remember the Lord's Prayer?"

"Da, Domine, propitius pacem in diebus nostis, ut, ope misericordiae tuae adiuti, et a peccato simus semper liberi et ab omni perturbatione securi. Per Christum Dominum nostrum..."

TBC

Translations:

Saying - We choose to love, we do not choose to cease loving

Prayer - Graciously give peace, O Lord, in our days, that, being assisted by help of Thy mercy, we may ever be free from sin and safe from all disturbance. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.