This chapter is a little bit shorter, but I have a friend coming over tomorrow and I wanted to get a chapter out to you guys. Please do let me know what you think; I love ya'lls great reviews! Thanks so much! here ya go; enjoy. :)

Chapter 16

Sam woke later that night to find Dean out like a light beside him, slumped down on the pillows he'd had behind his back. As odd as that would have been more than a month ago, it was strangely comforting now.

Then again, maybe that wasn't so strange. Though he knew he probably wouldn't admit it aloud now, having his brother close had been one of the few things that had ever made him feel safe, in those early years—especially after that Christmas, when he'd discovered for certain what their father was really doing as he dragged them across the continental US.

After a moment he realized he'd woken up because he needed to use the bathroom, and decided he could get there on his own. Dean needed sleep.

Sam levered himself up on his elbows and slowly slid his legs off the bed, pulling the covers off with one hand as he went and keeping the other arm wrapped around his chest. He would have made it to his feet from there, if one of them hadn't slipped on the edge of the comforter that had fallen to the ground.

He ended up dropping to his knees over the edge of the bed, letting out a shout of pain that he was certain would wake Dean for sure. Gasping, he sat back on his heels on the floor, holding his chest in both arms now and trying to stop gasping, because it hurt. He waited for the moment when Dean would be awake enough to realize what was going on—the moment in which he would jump up and freak out and be angry that Sam had tried to do something by himself in the first place.

But it didn't happen. Dean didn't wake up. Thank goodness for small favors.

Then a key turned in the door and Bobby burst in instead.

Bobby stopped short when he realized Dean was still asleep. He closed the door quietly and hurried over to help Sam up and onto the edge of the bed.

"You all right?"

Sam nodded silently, finally honing in on having his breath back.

"What were you doing?" Bobby questioned in an urgent whisper.

He motioned vaguely towards the bathroom. "I just didn't want to wake Dean up; he hasn't slept much in the past two or three days."

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I know. That must be why he's deaf; you sure woke me up easy enough."

He grimaced. "I'm sorry…"

"Take it easy. I don't mind." He slipped an arm around Sam's shoulders. "Come on, let me help while I'm here anyway." Bobby got him to the door, and waited outside until he was finished before helping him back toward the beds. He paused halfway back, and glanced at Dean. "You want to switch to the other bed?"

Sam smiled a little. "No, it's fine."

Bobby shrugged and put him back where he'd been, Sam thanked him, and he headed back to his own room.

When Bobby was gone, Sam turned over and yanked the other side of the comforter out from under Dean, smirking when he didn't even move. You really needed that sleep…

He spread the half of the covers he'd pulled free over his brother, glad to find that Dean's shoes were already off because he knew for sure that he wouldn't have been able to bend down there to get them.

Then Sam settled back in himself, and fell quickly asleep.

Dean woke to an absurd case of reverse déjà vu. It was the same scene he'd fallen asleep on—but this time sunlight was peeking out from beneath the drawn curtains and it was Sam who was sitting up watch re-runs of The Suite Life of Zach and Cody.

Sam glanced down when Dean rolled onto his back and looked up at his brother in confusion.

"Sorry…didn't know the wipe-out was going to be that loud," Sam apologized.

Dean glanced groggily toward the television. "With those two? Are you kidding?"

"So you've seen this show?"

"Yea…marathon started last night; nothing else was on," he shrugged, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Huh. It's not bad."

Dean wasn't sure what it was this time, but he heard another spectacular crash from the TV. By the time he sat up and stretched some, the two twins were already caught in an argument between their mother and the hotel's manager—another of the regular characters of the pre-teen comedy.

"For a good laugh anyway," Dean agreed.

"It's that other new one I can't stand…the bad Harry Potter knock-off with the cheesy spells and one of the DeLuise brothers…"

"The brother that's not in that chick show that has the dude that looks like you?"

"Right."

"Uh…Wizards of Waverly Place."

Sam stared at him.

"What? You're the one who put me on lockdown after the whole bank thing."

He received an eye-roll in response. "Yeah. Whatever." The brothers on the television screen came back with a smart remark that set him laughing, and once he was able to pull his arms from around his chest he grimaced and turned the TV off. "Okay…enough laughing for now," he moaned.

"You okay?"

"Yeah...a little better than yesterday, I guess. Did you get enough sleep?"

Dean nodded, and glanced back at the clock—which he promptly glared at. "You let me sleep until noon?"

"As if you had something better to do today?"

He let out a breath and flopped back on his pillows. "Whatever." Then his stomach growled, and he sat straight up again. "Do we have any food?"

"Ah, whatever's left of breakfast is on the table. Bobby just went for lunch, actually; we figured you'd be up soon and demanding it," Sam smirked.

Dean grinned back and plodded to the table, glad for the comfortable conversation. All he found on the table were one-and-a-half cold doughnuts in a paper bag, but he snatched them up eagerly and turned around to lean back on the edge of the table as he scarfed them down.

"Hey what about the other one? There are three, right?"

Sam looked thoughtful for a moment. "Ah…oh, right. The other one's been on that sci-fi show with the MacGyver guy—directing and producing, though."

"Right...the one that went on forever. It's over now, isn't it?"

"Yeah, just recently. I think the spin-off is still going, though."

"And this is the one with another name that starts with Star…uh…"

"Gate. Stargate. I'm pretty sure the newer one is Stargate: Atlantis," Sam answered easily, after another moment of thought.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, Atlantis. I remember getting a kick out of that." He polished off the last of the one-and-a-half doughnuts and dusted his hands together.

Sam shook his head. "I've heard they want to start working on a third series."

"Shoot me now," he snorted.

"It's not so bad."

"Oh, I don't care; when do we have time to watch much TV anyway? It's just my job to be sarcastic." And his stomach was still growling, and he needed to distract himself until Bobby returned.

Sam smiled again, and Dean was glad to see it—but he could still see the sorrow behind the mask.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and headed back towards the beds. "So…how about after lunch I go look for a decent movie-rental place?"

"The room's only got a VCR; no DVD-player."

"Thank you, high-tech college boy, but a VCR will do just fine."

Sam raised eyebrows at him. "You might have to drive half an hour to find a place."

He shrugged. "We'll probably be stuck here most of the week. If I have to make a couple hour round trips so we can keep our sanity, I don't mind…and don't give me that face. This isn't your fault."

"Yeah…fine. Sounds good."

His brother looked away, and the good mood was all but gone. Dean wished he could have figured out what to say, but Bobby came in a moment later and he didn't get the chance.

Four long days later Sam was insisting that he was healing, doing much better, and ready to get out of Ohio. Dean couldn't have agreed more, but he also knew why his brother was so eager to make this place a distant memory.

That was why he found himself sneaking out of the motel that afternoon, giving Bobby the message to tell Sam he'd gone out to return the tapes he'd rented from the next town over. He did that, actually, wondering the whole trip whether or not he should do what he thought he should do once he'd made it back to Cedarville, Ohio.

That was how he found himself sneaking in behind another group of students, and once again bothering Miss Ashley McCarthy for Abigail Ragusa's whereabouts. The dorm mother didn't recognize him at first, without the suit, but once he'd flashed the forged FBI badge the woman fluttered off in search of the girl.

Dean caught the redheaded Michelle glaring at him suspiciously from across the common room, and decided to wait outside. He waited for what seemed like much too long, and when Abby came out she didn't look happy in any sense of the word.

She perked up in alarm, however, when she saw who Miss McCarthy had sent her down to see.

"Dean! I-Is Sam okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. He's healing."

"Then…what is it?" she asked uneasily.

Part of him wished he could be angry at her. She'd hurt his brother. Part of him was angry with her…The rest of him knew, especially looking at her now, that she had never meant to.

Dean shrugged. "I'm really not sure why I'm here, but…we're leaving tomorrow. You can do whatever you want with that information. I just thought you should know."

She swallowed and seemed to shrink against the brick wall behind her, staring at the concrete. "Oh…" He got the distinct feeling that she was afraid of something—not that she didn't have a right to be considering what she knew now. She looked up after a long moment and surprised him with a question. "How can you do it?"

He blinked. "What?" He realized she was blinking back tears.

"How…how can you stay with him like that? All the time? How can you be around him and be there for him, and know what's happening to him?" she asked, voice barely audible.

Then that was what she was afraid of.

His stomach twisted, and Dean's fists clenched at his sides as a way of staving off the formation of a lump in his throat; that was sooo not something he wanted to discuss.

"He's my brother," he answered shortly. She was silent after that, but something made him go on after a moment. "It doesn't matter; I'm not going to let anything happen to him."

Abby looked up in confusion.

"You saw that thing. Now you know there's stuff out there…things you wouldn't have thought of before. Well with all that crap out there that we have to hunt, there has to be something good. There has to be something that can help Sam, and I'm going to find it. He'll be fine."

"Do you…really think you can?" she asked hopefully, straightening.

"I have to."

She winced. "What if you can't?"

"Damnit, why does everyone keep asking me that!" he all but shouted, starting to take an angry step forward and spinning away instead. He quickly turned back to her, letting out a breath. "Sorry."

"It's fine; I shouldn't have asked…" she said apologetically.

He didn't reply to that; he was focusing on a light pole in the distance to keep himself calm.

He didn't want to think about it; he didn't want to talk about this again.

"I'm not giving up," Dean said quietly.

Abby nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't, either."

He nodded, too, as if reassuring himself of the same thing again, and swallowed. "I should go. Sam uh…doesn't even know I'm here." When something like pain flickered across her expression at that comment he quickly amended. "It's not that he…I mean…He wouldn't have wanted me to come because he wouldn't want to bother you. It's not that he wouldn't want to see you. He just cares out other people over himself way too damn much."

She nodded again. "I think I gathered that," she said softly.

Dean gave half a smile in agreement, and turned to go.

"Does that mean he would want to see me?" she asked tentatively from behind him. "If I came…"

He paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Neither of us'll ever know unless you come and find out for yourself. We're leaving about noon tomorrow."

Then he walked away, leaving Abby to make up her own mind.

The next morning Sam was up and ready to go an hour ahead of schedule, and Dean was hard-pressed to find excuses to keep them there until noon—even though that was when they'd agreed they would leave. He was reduced to being painstakingly meticulous while packing, and he couldn't even know if the ruse was worth it.

"Dude, you've packed that bag like three times," Sam complained, leaning against the bathroom doorframe.

"And you're delusional. Look around or something; make sure we're not leaving anything."

"I've done that three times."

"Then do something else."

Sam gave a shallow huff and pushed carefully off of the wall. He could walk all right now, it seemed, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Dean kept an eye on him as he crossed to the table and eased into a chair, and then glanced at the clock again.

It was nearly noon now. Maybe there was nothing to wait for.

He zipped his duffle bag roughly. Frustrated, and slung it over his shoulder. "I'm gonna get the stuff loaded." Sam only nodded in response.

Dean gathered up the rest of the bags and hauled them out to the car. The oxygen generator was already there; he'd loaded it after breakfast, since Sam was all right without it now. Bobby was back in his own room, waiting for the boys to give the word they were ready to hit the road.

He tossed the bags in the trunk and locked it again, and by the time he got back inside Sam was already up again, pulling a long-sleeved shirt on over his t-shirt and having trouble with it. He had one arm in, and that was about as far as he seemed able to get. Dean grabbed the collar and pulled the other sleeve up so he could get to it without stretching or twisting.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly. Dean just clapped him lightly on the back in response.

"Let's go."

They heard tires in the parking lot, and Dean realized he hadn't closed the door—not that it mattered, now. He headed out first, Sam lagging several feet behind as he turned to give a room a visual once-over.

"I'll get…" He'd been about say Bobby, but he trailed off when he realized that the tires they'd heard had been someone pulling into the nearly empty lot two spots down from the Impala.

And that it was Abby Ragusa climbing out of the small green car. When she saw him she froze, her car door clicking shut behind her.

"Uh…Sam…"

"What?" he asked, following Dean out the door. Then he froze, too.

Dean backed down the sidewalk until he reached Bobby's door, and knocked quickly. As soon as the door opened he hurried in, shoving Bobby back inside.

She was only standing there, staring at him, but she was here. He'd been so sure he would never see her again.

Sam wanted to move, but right now he wasn't so sure he could stay upright if he left the support of the doorframe behind that one of his hands clung to now. Instead Abby was the one to take a few steps forward, and stop again. He read so many things on her face at one—apology, regret, hesitance.

He was feeling them all himself.

"I'm sorry…that I didn't come before now," she said after a moment.

He shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't think you'd come at all. I was afraid we'd scared you off."

Abby almost laughed. "It wasn't the shapeshifter, though I feel so strange just saying that. It's not even about Jessica, it's…"

"I would have understood if it was."

She shook her head slowly and stared at her feet, arms crossed again but with no book to give her an excuse for the position.

"It was about me," Sam said quietly.

She nodded, still not looking at him.

He found himself apologizing again. "I didn't want you to have to deal with that."

Abby looked up finally, and gave him half a smile. "That's one of the things I like about you. Even with what you're going through…the whole time you cared more about me than about what you wanted." Silently she closed the distance between them, looking up at him tentatively as she had back by the lake.

"I know it's too late…I know you're leaving now. You probably have more lives to save while you're still here, and I wouldn't want to stand in your way. I was afraid, and I ran, and I screwed up and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" she trailed, swallowing hard.

Silence reigned for a long, hard moment.

"You still came back," Sam answered quietly. He reached out and rested a hand on her arm, and she flinched as if she thought she didn't deserve the touch.

"I'm sorry," she said more softly. "When I found out I should have stayed; I should have…have…been here for you, something. I know I can't do anything about it, but I shouldn't have just run…"

"You still came back," he repeated, and smiled gently. She'd been avoiding his eyes again, but now Abby really looked at him for the first time since she'd arrived.

Sam kissed her, easing back into the motel room, and closed the door behind them.

"It's been two hours," Bobby noted, glancing at his watch. "I love that boy, and I'm glad the girl came to say goodbye, at least, but we need to get out of here." Someone from the front desk had called to inform them of that fact just a few minutes before.

Dean shrugged. "They're probably still talking, like the geeks they are. No premarital sex for Christian girls, remember? Besides, I'd personally kick Sam's ass if he tried any of that before those ribs healed anyway."

Bobby shrugged and stood. "Either way, we'd better let 'em know we've got to get going."

"Yeah," Dean sighed. He went out to knock on the other door, but it opened in front of him to reveal Sam with Abby at his side. "Hey…Sam. They're kind of kicking us out," he provided apologetically.

"I know. We got the call in here, too," he replied.

"Okay…uh…I'll be at the car," Dean answered, chucking a thumb over his shoulder. Sam nodded, and Bobby went to check them out. Dean went to lean against the Impala and wait. Sam, meanwhile, had pulled Abby into an embrace tight enough that it looked like it might be painful. If it was, he didn't seem to mind.

He didn't really mean to overhear what they said in goodbye…but he heard it just the same, and his big-brother instincts wouldn't let him feel guilty about it. After all, it would be harder to comfort later if he didn't know what happened now.

"So you'll let me know if anything…happens, right?" Abby asked.

"Yeah, or…or Dean will," Sam answered painfully. Dean winced to himself, and Abby choked back a strangled sound at that one. It was a long moment before either of them said anything else.

"Take good care of yourself," she managed finally. "Just…don't give up, and I won't either. I'll wait to hear from you…"

When Dean glanced over at them they'd pulled back enough to see each other, and he could see his brother's face. Damnit, the face…not much better than the ordeal with Madison. He'd egged Sam on then, too, and look what had happened there. A lot of this, too, was still his fault.

No tears, not yet, from either of them. None had freed themselves, anyway, though they were there all right. Dean knew that if they didn't come now, they'd come later.

"I'll pray, too," Abby added softly.

Sam smiled weakly and kissed her. "Whatever happens to me, never to lose that faith of yours," he whispered. "Sometimes I wish I had it, too."

Now why did that make Dean's throat constrict so badly?

It did worse to Abby. She nodded in answer, but sobbed into Sam's chest for a moment as she did. Somehow she still held back the tears. "Goodbye," she said finally, swiping at her eyes anyway.

"Bye," Sam answered, still trying to smile. It wasn't until she managed to smile back that he let her go.

Dean stopped looking then, and went around to get in and start the car. A moment later Sam climbed carefully in beside him, minding his chest and taking even breaths, but Dean had no illusions that the heavy breathing had anything to do with his ribs. He looked over at his brother anxiously. Sam was watching Abby pull out of the parking lot, but he still picked up on the look.

"Just go," he said shortly, grimacing as the tears finally won out.

Dean sighed and craned his neck to confirm that Bobby was back and waiting in his own car. "Yeah…we're going."