Dean stared at the letter like it was something dangerous and could blow up at any second. He hadn't told Sam about it. He couldn't. This is something meant only for Dean. It has nothing to do with Sam.

And yet he has this intense urge to show the letter to his little brother just to see if it's real. Confirmation from Sam would lay his mind at ease but the mere thought has Dean feeling guilty about sharing something this important with someone else. It's stupid, he's well aware, but he just can't shake the feeling.

He's only read two words of the letter and that's "Hey, Dad", but he knows it's from Ben. He knows his son's handwriting as well as his own and Sam's.

There's a music box in his closet buried deep so Sam wouldn't find it. It's filled with mementos of his time with Lisa and Ben. Pictures, notes, letters, artwork that he couldn't make himself give up. He hasn't looked at them since he put them in there for safekeeping. Especially the pictures of his once family, a family he gave up for Sam and Cas, and seeing their happy and smiling faces staring up at him...he doesn't think his heart could handle it.

Leaving them behind with no memories of him had been the best option at the time. It more than likely saved their lives but it doesn't take away the pain of Ben growing up without him or Lisa moving on from a memory that never came to fruition, not matter how hard they reached for it.

The letter lay on top of his bed-stand, mocking him for being a coward at his inability to read the contents within, and maybe he is a coward, but he has a feeling whatever his son wrote will undoubtedly destroy him. It wouldn't matter if all Ben wrote is that he's fine. The fact of the matter is that Ben is out there without Dean to protect him.

Maybe Sam is right about just finding Ben and sending him back to wherever he lived before. It'd be safer but he's also not wrong about wanting to leave behind a legacy Ben would be proud to be a part of.

Sighing, Dean let his head thunk against the wall he's leaning against. He's currently sitting on the floor, back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, his arms sitting atop them, and a headache blooming in the corner of his eye. He had thought about getting up and grabbing a beer for some liquid courage but he couldn't make himself actually leave his room.

Sam woke up and went for his morning run, came back, showered, and cooked breakfast for himself in the time that Dean sat on his floor like a coward. Thankfully, Dean had the wherewithal last night to close and lock his door. Sam had knocked on it earlier to see if he was alive and was happy when Dean grunted at him.

He left Dean alone.

Hey, Dad.

God. Two little words and Dean loses all courage.

Thumping his head against the wall again, this time harder, Dean pushed up off the ground and stormed towards the bedstand. His hand hovered over the mocking letter.

He can do this. He can read his son's letter. He can.

Hand faltering and pulling back, Dean growled to himself and went back to his spot on the floor.

Okay. Not yet.

"Dean, you gonna come out any time soon?" Sam asked from the other side of the door. He can see Sasquatch's shadow pause in front of his room. "You're still in there, right? You didn't run off to Amara, or Lucifer didn't somehow steal you away?"

Snorting, Dean shook his head in mock despair over Sam's overreaction then answered, "I'm still here."

A soft sigh of relief is Dean's only indication over how worried Sam had been. Oh. Well, shit.

"I'm good, Sammy. Just - I'm just tired is all," he admitted truthfully. He heard Sam shuffle his massive feet, and Dean would bet money that he has his hand resting on the doorknob, internally debating about invading Dean's privacy to offer comfort and a sympathetic ear. And Dean's appreciative. He is. But this thing, Sam has no experience dealing with. How can he possibly know what it's like to get a letter from a lost child, possibly begging for help or answers? How can Sam possibly know what it's like to abandon a child?

Everything's piling up and they're losing.

Dean can't think straight around Amara, Cas is the fucking vessel to the Lightbringer himself, and Sam is the only one still standing and has the will to keep going. Cas gave in. Why shouldn't he?

"I just need to rest, Sam. I'll be good tomorrow."

Sam sighed again but he moved away and stomped down the hall to his room. At least his little (ha!) brother believes him for now. Don't know how long that'll last.

Dean closed his eyes and waited for his courage to gather. The letter lay silent and bereft on the bedstand, unread.

It took Dean another week before he worked up the courage to hold the letter, his fingers lightly tracing over Ben's words. A wave of nostalgia washed over him quickly followed by crushing melancholy, Dean had to blink back tears and lean against the wall to keep from falling to the ground at the almost forgotten sting of paternal failure.

He wondered if his dad ever suffered from the same pain.

Sam had been asking what's wrong with him but Dean brushed off his concern, unwilling to share this aspect of his life. There is still a part of him that is mad at Sam for taking him away from his family, even though he knows Sam couldn't be blamed for it. It's not like they hogtied him and threw him in the back of their car to get him back with them. Sam wasn't right and Dean had to find out what because he just couldn't turn that part of him off, the part that's been ingrained in him since Mom died: He had to take care of Sammy.

And then it just went downhill from there.

How can Ben ever forgive him? Sam never forgave their dad. How can he expect Ben to forgive him when he did something far worse than Dad ever did? Dad never took away their memories and left them vulnerable without an ounce of training to protect them from what it is they hunt.

That's why he's afraid to read the letter. Reading condemnation would destroy him far worse than what Alistair ever did to him. If Alistair had known about Ben, he would have broken long before the 30 years it took the demon.

Sitting on his bed, Dean held the letter in his hands. It's open but his eyes keep glazing over in an attempt to save him from potentially harming his psyche.

Taking a deep breath, Dean shook his head to clear it and focused on the letter.

Hey Dad,

I guess I should write something profound and from the heart like I've been told to, but the only thing I got on my mind and what's taking me so long is one question: When are you coming home?

The memories I have are sketchy at best but I have one, a feeling really, and it's that I've been waiting a long time for you to come home, Dad. It's like I'm in a cave with really good acoustics and the words are bouncing back in the wrong place and distorted all to hell but I think you promised you'd come back to me and Mom. What happened? Why didn't you come home? Why am I still waiting for you?

This big bad, Amara, are you close to defeating her yet?

An ally of yours, they said that I should make this as mushy as hell to embarrass you and to, I think, hurt you. A punishment maybe. I don't know, but I think I've made it mushy enough for them to let me write the rest of the letter without making you feel bad. At least I hope.

I'm okay. Relatively safe. I've been hunting, believe it or not. I have a partner. They've been helping me learn how to protect myself. I've also learned from others but I don't think it'd be wise to tell you who they are. I don't want them in trouble and I don't want to distract you from beating God's Sister. I mean, wow, Dad. God's Sister. Is that normal for you to be fighting this type of bad guy? If it is, no wonder you haven't come to get me yet. (That's not a shot, I swear.)

This ally, they said that Lucifer is looking for me as well, and that he's going to use me to get to you. I can admit I'm scared. A lot scared but I know you'll beat them. You're a hero, and heroes rarely lose, but then again, a hero's story is always tragic with family dying to build their character and to further the plot. I hope that isn't a part of your story, Dad.

I...

I miss you, Dad. It's not the kind of full on "pain and melancholy" miss you but the more "I'm starting to remember you and Uncle a little bit and it's starting to hurt" kind of miss you. So, maybe a little pain, I guess.

And, before I wrap this up, I need to tell you I know about Castiel being the one to take my memories away. Mom's too. I'm guessing on your orders. To protect us, right? Something bad happened and you thought it was the only way to protect us, and you were right. God's sister and favored son haven't found me because of that action, oh, and a little bit of magic and a tattoo. I got a tattoo. That's okay, right? It's okay that I got a tattoo that protects me from demon possession? My hunting partner assured me that's what it's for.

Oh, you should send up a prayer to Jo and thank her for getting me out of the bad guys' radar. She's awesome.

Tell Uncle I said hi and that I hope I get to meet him, hopefully with my memories intact. (Yes, that one was a shot and a massive hint all in one.)

...Just - Just don't forget about me, okay, Dad? Beat the bad guys, save the world, and...and come home to me. I wanna be a family again. I have these feelings that hint of us being happy once, before you left and before I forgot you. I want that again. Please?

At least give me my memories back. If that's all you can do, I'll be happy with that.

Your ally is pointingly tapping their expensive (? Maybe?) watch, I better wrap this up. They've been more than generous. I got to remember you name longer than a second, and that is the best gift I have ever gotten in a long, long time. Even as I'm writing this, your name is already fading from my mind. What you look like, sound like...hell, what you smell like, an odd thing to wish for, I know, but it's all a part of you and...I don't know. Just come home, Dad.

I love you,

Ben

Dean read the letter then he read it again and again and again. He didn't notice the tears that started to fall down his face and onto his son's words penned in ink that won't smudge, no matter how much tears fall onto them. A pressure in his chest started to build and make its way up to his throat, trying to get past his teeth and out into the open. He can't let it out. He's too afraid of what it might be.

Clenching his teeth, Dean felt his body start to shake even as his hands carefully held the letter in his hands, afraid he'll rip it.

Powerful emotions wracked his body and he tasted blood from biting his lip to keep from making a sound, Sammy can't know. The pressure pressed hard against his rib cage and his hands started to shake as well. He allowed one hand to let go of the letter but he couldn't make his other hand place it on the bed-stand for safety. He can't let go. It'd be like letting go of Ben a third time.

He knows the irrationality of the act but, fuck. He can't let his son go again.

His free hand clenched into a fist as he brought it up to his mouth to bite down on. He only succeeded on spreading blood from his bleeding lip. He bit down harder as the pressure swelled again. His throat ached with keeping it at bay but it's a losing battle.

There's only one course of action.

Dean shot forward, still taking special care with The Letter, and slammed his door shut with a loud bang and immediately locked it, knowing Sam heard the slam and will come running. This has nothing to do with Sam. He has every right to lock him out.

The shaking spread to his legs and he crumpled to the ground as if they were made of Jell-O. The pressure finally won and a loud wail broke out and it kept on going until Dean started to worry about passing out from a lack of oxygen. He dimly heard Sam pounding on his door, demanding to be let in and asking what's wrong. Even if Dean had the wherewithal to respond, he couldn't. Words that were needed to explain are trapped behind the hiccuping sobs that took over after the never-ending wail.

The pressure in his chest didn't let up. It kept pushing up, forcing out everything he's kept bottled up over Ben's and Lisa's fates that he had no hope of ever locking it up again.

In the back of his mind, Dean knew this was a good thing. He was finally letting out his grief and guilt over them but another part of him is terrified. He's kept that weight for so long that he won't have any idea what to do with himself once it's all gone. It's a part of him that he doesn't want to lose, as messed up as that is.

Dean lost track of time but when he was able to finally take in a deep breath to his oxygen deprived body, a different type of weight settled on top of him and between one breath and the next, darkness crashed over him like a tidal wave and he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

BW

Sam's heart threatened to beat out of his chest and start running from all the adrenaline being pumped through it. It's been six hours since the horrible sounds of his brother crying stopped. He's too afraid to leave the door. It'd feel like he'd be abandoning his brother in his time of need. Which is stupid but damn if Sam can make himself move away from his position of sentinel, protecting his brother from God knows what.

Whatever caused his brother's breakdown would have to go through him and like hell is Sam going to let it pass without fighting with everything he's got. Not even Amara would get passed him.

God, he needs Cas. They both do, but the angel has that touch about him that gets Dean to let his walls down for the angel to see what's wrong and attempt to fix it. And vice versa. They're a matched set, a bond forged from the fires of Hell, the blinding light of Heaven, and the wildness of Purgatory. The only thing to break it is themselves, and even that proved difficult.

No matter what the other did, all was forgiven in the end.

Even this, of Cas saying yes to Lucifer, will be absolved without hesitation from his brother. Him too. They've all been through too much to let things like that fester. They'll have a fight and then everything will be good again.

Another surge of adrenaline rushed through him at the thought of them might not getting Cas back, of the thought of Dean losing the part of himself that Castiel holds in his heart and soul, and Sam has to rub a hand over his chest in an attempt to soothing his racing heart. This can't be good with his heart still pounding like this. He should rest.

Dean'll be out for another couple of hours, judging by how long that wail lasted. Shuddering at the memory, Sam laid down on his side, tucking his arm under his head as a makeshift pillow.

They need to talk, that's a given, but Sam isn't sure he wants to know what caused Dean to lose it like that. Anger, explosive anger, that Sam can handle. He's used to it. It's what Dean does. But crying like that? Like his heart got pulled from his chest and lit on fire in front him. It's something new and Sam can't fight the small tinge of fear that Dean's hit his breaking point and he'll actively seek out Amara.

He'll need to call Jody and see how her search is going. The only thing to break Amara's sway over his brother is Ben. It has to be. There's not a whole lot of options. Ben's their best bet.

Guilt reared up and sucker punched him in the stomach.

Some uncle he is. He only wants to see Ben to keep his brother from doing something colossally stupid and world ending.

...Or self-sacrificing.

Playing martyr. It's probably his turn anyway, Sam thought ruefully. Maybe there was some truth to Dean's words last year. Maybe they do make things worse by putting each other first, refusing to let one another go. Case in point, look at what happened with the Mark and Dean killing Death because he refused to kill Sam. Amara came out of that action.

The world would probably be safer for Ben if Dean had carried through and killed him. Dean'd be out in the Void forever while he (hopefully) languished in his own personal heaven, waiting for Ash to find him.

Sighing, Sam closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind so he could sleep.

I'm sorry, Ben. I swear I'll be a better uncle after me and your dad clean up this mess.

BW

Claire stared up at her ceiling, her mind deliberately blank as she laid on her bed. Jody and Alex have been asleep for the past hour and she's still awake. Wide awake. Counting sheep didn't help. Going over her knowledge of handling ghouls didn't help.

There's something coming, she can feel it, and it's bad. Something bad is going to happen and Ben will be out there on his own without her and Jody to protect him from it, because mark her words, that something bad is coming for him. It's the Winchester way. If it's bad, powerful and dangerous, then look for a Winchester because it'll be after them.

Jody'll tell her it's all in her head but she knows it's not.

A statue bleeding, massive craters appearing out of nowhere but some people claim that they saw a bright light before the craters appeared, and a powerful sonic boom that threatened to shatter every window in the Western hemisphere. That all can't be run of the mill creatures and demons and ghosts and angels. No matter what Jody says. It has to do with Sam and Dean and whoever they're fighting this time, and whoever it is is powerful. Enough for Claire to be completely terrified for her missing partner and friend.

They could have been more, Claire knows this. If Jo hadn't've taken him then they would be, but now all Claire cares about his him coming home safe and unhurt. She just wants him home.

So much for keeping her mind blank, she thought wryly. That lasted a whole minute.

Rolling onto her side with her arm tucked under her head, unknowingly matching Sam's position in the bunker miles away, but both thinking about a certain lost Winchester.

"We'll find you, Ben. I don't want your dad going all Mark of Cain again on me. That was terrifying the first time. I don't think I can handle an encore. I have a feeling your dad could scare the devil himself when it comes to harming or threatening his family," Claire said aloud. There's no one to hear the one-sided conversation anyway. No judgment or pity or sympathy, but it makes her feel better all the same.

"Alex hasn't dated anyone since that vampire douchebag. You would have enjoyed beheading him. It was very therapeutic for the both of us. I haven't been going to college. I think at this point I should just drop out and try again next year. Jody's not happy about that."

Claire curled into a tighter ball on her bed.

"I don't think she'll understand that I don't want to go to college without you, you know? We used to talk about going to the same college and going hunting on the weekends. That was our plan, and now? I can't bare going to class without you. My first year hasn't been great. It's not the same or even to close to how we envisioned it would be. Granted, there is a certain freedom about choosing your own schedule, but I need you here, Ben."

And it's a truth. That particular Winchester means a lot to her. If Claire could go back in time and not be such a bitch to him, she would, without hesitation. If she could show or even say just how much his friendship meant to her...she would.

"G'Night, Ben," she whispered to the room, hoping that somehow her words would drift to her missing friend to let him know she's thinking about him.

BW

Castiel sighed and hunched over his tiny rabbit ear set, fiddling with the set until the fuzzy screen quit being so fuzzy. Guilt gnawed at him but he ignored it, mentally locking it in the bunker dungeon, next to the locked door that housed any knowledge of Benjamin Winchester. Lucifer has yet to break the warding he put on them. The one memory just after he took away Benjamin's memories, is all that his big brother got, and even that memory had been heavily warded and edited.

He's still smarting from when Lucifer broke through the wards. He still has a slight headache from the action.

Something big is going on though. Lucifer has been leaving him alone, effectively locking him in his room, so to speak, and his attention is turned towards finding Dean's weakness and finding a way to beat Amara. Those two goals aren't exactly related.

Lucifer wants to find Dean's weakness so he can inflict pain on the Winchesters for thwarting him and locking him back up in the cage, and what's the best way to completely destroy Sam and Dean? Kill one of their family members in front of them. An innocent. Not that Lucifer knows that it's a family member he's after but when he finds out that who he's looking for is Dean's son - Castiel can't imagine what he'll do to Benjamin.

As for Amara, if he gets rid of her, he'll have domination over everything. There's no demon or angel powerful than him to stop him.

Father showing up now would be great. He could save Benjamin, send Lucifer back to his cage with Michael, and he could balance out everything that went wrong with one raised eyebrow. Dean could have a family without fear of anything coming after them, Sam could forge his own life without bring drawn back into just hunting, and Castiel could finally rest. Be it with Sam and Dean or up in Heaven. He'd prefer the former if he's being honest.

He's lost track of time. He has no idea how his Winchesters are doing or even Benjamin. What's going on outside his vessel is a mystery and he's too much of a coward to find out. What if Dean is standing front of him, begging for him to stop Lucifer from killing him, and he can't save his Righteous Man? Or worse, what if Sam is telling his big brother yes so he'd vacate his current vessel? Probably thinking Castiel would figure a way to expel the Devil from his rightful vessel, like last time, and that worked out so well for them, didn't it?

Snorting, Castiel ate a snack from the cupboad, dropping his sandwich when he heard a voice called out his name. A familiar voice. The one being in the whole universe that he can't resist answering is calling for him.

Dean.

So, this was done last Sunday but I got snowed in. They dug me out Tuesday, I got groceries and other supplies, forgot to post the chapter, and then I got snowed in (also Tuesday) again. I was gonna post it yesterday but that meant driving instead of hitching a ride, and I am not the most confident driver in good weather let alone bad, and I basically don't drive in the winter, too chicken. ;) Thank my brother for coming out to get me and letting me use his wiffy to post this.

Next chapter is almost done. Dunno when I can post it. There's another storm coming. Cross your fingers that it won't be as bad as the last one.