Author's Note: I really like this chapter. I feel like I finally hit my stride. To answer a question, no this is not a death fic. Just be prepared for a lot of hurt Sam and protective Dean! Anyways, enjoy!
The motel they found was slightly nicer than their usual fare.
As Dean and Sam walked into the room, Dean could instantly make out that the sheets were a brighter white and the bed wasn't lumpy. There was no bizarre décor to be had—just tasteful touches of art on the walls. If Dean hadn't known any better, he would've suspected that they were in a hotel. Maybe life was giving them a break for once—a nice place for Sam to recover and for Dean to figure out what the hell they were going to do. Sam plopped on the bed and quickly removed his boots, the fatigue wearing him away as the adrenaline crashed.
"How are you doing?" Dean asked yet again, the protective brother side of him refusing to subside because, dammit, he had almost lost his brother tonight! Sam had almost been killed and blown up into a billion pieces! Sam said nothing, but Dean chuckled as he saw the "bitch-face" that Sam was currently sporting. Well, if he was all right enough to do that, then the injuries couldn't be too bad. "You need any stiches?"
"No," Sam mumbled, drowsiness coloring his tone. "I'm really okay."
"You sure you don't—"
"Dean, please," Sam pleaded. "I just want some sleep, okay?" The tone in Sam's voice unnerved Dean—it was a perfect match to when Sam had used to lie about what he was feeling to their dad. Their Dad had never noticed Sam when he was like that, but Dean had always been able to read Sam like an open book. Nothing ever got past Dean—nothing.
"Sammy." Dean didn't really know what to say to his younger brother. Sam had been treated like a demon and had almost died for it. What did you say about something like that? How did you move past that? Dean knew that when their father had told him to save Sam or kill him, it had really bothered his younger brother, but to have it confirmed by someone else? That had to be extremely painful. What could Dean say? "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you."
It was a vow and Dean meant every word. He would never let Sam get hurt, not while he was still breathing. As long as Sam was safe, Dean could handle whatever else life decided to throw their way.
"I know you won't." For the first time all night, Sam let a small smile grace his features. Dean then coughed uncomfortably and Sam laughed fully.
"What?" Dean played along, allowing himself to deliberately exaggerate his emotions. "Chick-flick moments are your thing!"
"You started." Sam retorted.
"Wow, Sam," Dean exclaimed. "What are you? 12?" The boys then both chuckled. With a sigh, Sam let himself lie completely on the bed and shut his eyes.
"You should get some sleep too, Dean," The youngest pointed out. "Everything is always better in the morning."
"Says who?" Dean retorted as he finished laying the salt lines.
"Everyone," Sam finished quietly, sleep already beginning to take him. Dean sighed, internally debating whether he should listen to his brother or go back to trying to figure out their next move. "Please, Dean."
"Fine, fine, Sleeping Beauty," Dean muttered as he flicked off the lights and removed his boots. Lying in the darkness, Dean tried to close his eyes and get his mind calm, but it was difficult with so many thoughts racing through his head. What was their next move? Who could they trust?
"Dean?"
"What Sam?"
"Thanks for coming after me today." Dean smiled—it was amazing how Sam had such a profound effect on him. 5 minutes ago, he was sure that he and Sam were both so screwed that there was no hope for them and now, he felt more optimistic.
"Anytime, Sammy."
The two fell asleep, their sleep peaceful and dreamless.
The morning brought a sense of calm and slight optimism. Sam was the first to rise, quickly getting up from the bed and then heading to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, Sam removed his clothes and then stepped into the warm spray of water. His tired muscles—sore from all that he had put them through yesterday—seemed to relax and Sam finally took a full deep breath in. The events of the previous day came tumbling into his mind—the fear he had felt knowing he was walking into a trap, the panic when he couldn't seem to get the upper hand on Gordon and the relief when he saw Dean was safe. Somehow, he had managed to survive the deadly encounter, but he knew Dean was right. More hunters could come after him and who knows what Gordon had said at the Roadhouse.
Regretfully, Sam turned off the shower before it became cold. He had to save some of the water for Dean. Sighing, Sam stepped out of the shower and quickly changed. Staring at the mirror, Sam glanced at the cuts on his face, pleased that they weren't that serious and that they weren't infected. Quietly, Sam shut the bathroom door behind him, pleased to see that Dean was still snoring softly on the bed. Sam always loved seeing Dean sleep—it was the only time that his older brother seemed to be totally at peace, without a care in the world. He wondered if Dean was dreaming about something and if so, what? Or did Dean simply see nothing in his sleep like Sam? Did he dream about Mom or Dad? Unlike Sam, Dean actually remembered what Mom was like and how Dad acted before he had become obsessed with hunting. Sam wondered what it would've been like if he had never been born. Would Dean be married and settled down with kids of his own? Would his mom and dad be living happily together without any knowledge of what really hid in the dark?
Sam would never tell Dean that he thought about this—his protective older brother would brush it off and tell him to stop worrying, but Sam could never help but feel as if he was somehow responsible for this mess? Because of him, his mom had died, his father had become a hunter obsessed with revenge then later died for it, and his brother was practically carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Guilt washed over Sam. If only there was something he could do . . .
Dean shifted in his sleep and Sam stiffened. Waiting a few seconds to see if Dean would settle, Sam decided that he would go out and get Dean some breakfast and maybe even a slice of pie. It was the least he could do and as Sam quickly jotted down a note for his brother, Sam grinned, picturing Dean's face as he got the pie.
His brother deserved it.
"Hi there, sugah," A southern voice greeted Sam as he stepped up to the counter. "How can ah help you?" Sam couldn't help but be taken in by her perfect ringlets of platinum blonde hair. Her blue eyes were piercing and Sam quickly spied her name—Amber.
"I'd like some pancakes please," Sam began. "And do you have pie?" Amber's eyes widened in shock and she mockingly punched Sam.
"Pie? Sugah, course we got pie!" Amber quickly pulled out a menu and Sam's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets at how long the list was. "Ah like the chocolate cream pie, myself."
"I'll take your word for it," Sam replied, a smile lighting up his features. "Two slices please."
"To go or to stay?" Amber asked as she hit the buttons on the cash register.
"To go, please." Sam answered.
"Name please?"
"Sam."
"Sam?" Amber's eyes lit up and an almost sinister-like grin spread over her face. "That's such a wonderful name! My little brother's name is Sam. Small world, right?"
"Yes, ma'am." Sam replied.
"Miss," Amber corrected. "Ah'm not that old, sugah." Sam chuckled. She smiled again and then she quickly took Sam's money from his outstretched hand and then put it away. "Just one moment." She vanished into the kitchen and returned with the pie and the pancakes. Packing them into bags, she handed them to Sam.
"Thank you."
"No problem," Amber told him with a grin. "Have a nice day!"
"I will, thanks." Sam told her as he exited through the diner door. Amber grinned. She hadn't expected Sam to come walking to her and now that he had, that saved her a lot of trouble. She took off her apron and then walked into the kitchen where the bodies of the chef and the waitress that she had stolen the outfit from lied on the floor.
"Thanks for the help!" Amber called cheerfully as she left the diner.
She had to get the next part of her plan up and running.
Author's Note: Yep. Amber is insane. How are you liking the story? Please enjoy!
