Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.

Author's Note: Sorry it took me so long to give you guys this chapter. Hope it's worth it!

You Found Me

Chapter 7

Dean was beginning to sense a tradition in the making. It was two o'clock in the morning, once again, and he once again wasn't sleeping. He was also once again nursing a cup of coffee in the middle of Bobby's kitchen, thinking of all the things he would rather be doing than drinking cold coffee and reading boring news articles about events he knew absolutely nothing about. Of course, most of those things he would rather be doing involved Sam getting better, the Impala, and a duffel bag full of shotguns, salt, some extra shells, and Ruby's knife, which would inevitably mean that he would wind up back here in this exact same position in a few weeks, but Dean was so frigging bored by that point, that he didn't care.

Dean and boredom did not mix. It was when he was bored that he did stupid things, like get the cops called on them or getting one of the Winchester brothers involved with the nasty supernatural creature they were hunting at the moment. Dean was one of those people that constantly had to be doing something. Waiting around for Sam to get better, though important, was not one of Dean's favorite things to do for obvious reasons.

Dean was just starting to work the crossword puzzle when he heard Sam's shout of fear. Before he had ever consciously decided to do anything, Dean was in the doorway to the living room with Ruby's knife in hand. He relaxed ever so slightly when he realized that there was nothing attacking Sam, that it was just a nightmare. Still, those by themselves were on about the same level as some of the things the Winchesters had hunted.

Knowing it wasn't a great idea to startle his brother; Dean approached the sleeping Winchester cautiously before placing a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder. He wasn't expecting the reaction he received. One minute, he was the concerned older brother, the next, Dean was a highly pissed off and agitated older brother with a bloody nose and an overwhelming fear that something was wrong with Sam.

"Sam! Wake up!" Dean shouted as Sam attempted to roll over onto his side. If it weren't for the younger's injured leg, it wouldn't have mattered.

"No. Dean. DEAN!"

Suddenly, Sam was sitting straight up, breathing hard and looking around wildly. His alarmed hazel eyes grew almost comically wide as they landed on Dean, who was nursing his bloody nose.

"You mind telling me what that was about?" Dean asked thickly as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a hanker chief that had obviously seen better days.

"What happened to your nose?" Sam asked taking a deep breath and visibly calming.

"I decided to use your fist as a Kleenex," Dean said rolling his eyes. "What do you think happened?"

"I'm sorry," Sam murmured looking away.

Dean sighed internally. This reaction was becoming all too common from Sam as of late. Not that Dean minded—there was a lot that Sam needed to apologize for, but it was getting annoying.

"I don't want you to be sorry, Sam," he said. "I want you to tell me what's going on."

"I don't remember," Sam muttered.

"You're a terrible liar, Sammy," Dean said sitting down on the couch next to Sam, mindful of his brother's broken leg.

"It's just that—I don't want to talk about it," Sam said.

"What? You're the sharing and caring brother, remember? I'm supposed to be the dark, mysterious one."

Dean's attempts at humor went unheeded. He didn't get so much as a blank stare, which alerted him to the fact that something was really wrong with his brother, outside of the whole recovering from the near death experience thing.

"I've been having these nightmares," Sam started. "They always start out the same. We're in the convent right before Lucifer gets out. I apologize to you and then there's this really bright white light. And then everything goes black for a second and then you're not there. I'm alone and have no idea where the hell I am."

Dean was quiet, not sure as to what to say. He was fairly certain that these nightmares were Sam's subconscious' way of trying to remember, for the first part matched up exactly with what Dean remembered.

"And then I get this feeling that someone's watching me," Sam continued without prompting. He had a blank look in his hazel eyes, one that Dean really didn't like. "Then this man appears out of nowhere. I have no idea who the hell he is."

It's Lucifer, Dean thought darkly. Or one of his hundreds of minions.

"He tells me that you left and that you weren't coming for me," Sam said his voice growing bitter. "I know, it's just a dream, but I still can't help but feel that maybe he's right. He tells me that I should just give up and agree to him. Every single time I tell him to go fuck himself."

Dean could barely contain a grin. That was the Sammy he knew and loved.

"It gets kind of fuzzy from there."

Dean could always tell when people were lying to him. He knew Sam better than he knew anyone else, but decided not to call the youngest Winchester on it. He had done the same thing to protect Sam time and time again. Still, the fact that Sam felt that what his dream was or memory or whatever the hell this thing was, was bad enough not to tell Dean, then it just made the older Winchester that much more angry and concerned. He wanted desperately to rip into something, preferably someone, to make them pay for all the hell Sam had gone through. It wasn't fair.

"Usually, I wake up when the hellhounds start chasing me," Sam said looking away from Dean.

They really never got the chance to talk about what they had both gone through that day Dean had gone to Hell. There really had never been a good opportunity. Dean highly doubted that two o'clock in the morning was the best of times to have that conversation either.

"It's just a dream, Sam," Dean said softly, knowing that his brother wouldn't believe it. Hell, he didn't believe it either.

Sam let out a sad chuckle.

"I wish," he said. He hesitated for a brief second. "There's something else. Something that I haven't wanted to tell you, but I think I should."

"What?" Dean was instantly concerned.

"I—this is going to sound really stupid," Sam said. "But--."

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by Bobby's sudden entrance. Dean had only seen the man look so terrified twice before—once when Sam had died and once when Dean had told the older hunter about the deal.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked instantly getting to his feet.

"It's Ellen," Bobby said. "She and Jo were discovered by demons. I just talked to her on the phone. They're in hiding at the moment, but she fears that the only reason why they haven't been found yet is because the demons are waiting for something."

"Lucifer," Sam whispered looking suddenly terrified. Dean didn't blame him. As much as he pretended to be a badass about this entire thing, he was scared to death of the devil.

"She needs someone to help get her out of there," Bobby said swallowing. "You know I'd never ask you to do this, Dean, unless I thought I couldn't handle it myself."

The weight of what Bobby was asking him to do fully hit Dean at that moment. Bobby was asking him to leave Sam, put his life in danger, and save Ellen and Jo. Normally there wouldn't be any question about it—Sam was safe enough at Bobby's place especially with the older hunter around, but there was something nagging at Dean. Something about the way Sam seemed to be shaking like a leaf and his face had suddenly become three shades paler than normal.

"You should do it, Dean," Sam said softly. "Ellen and Jo, they need you."

"I can't leave you here by yourself," Dean disagreed.

"Bobby'll be here," Sam said. "I'll be fine."

"No, Sam," Dean argued.

"Please," Sam said pleadingly. "We can't let anyone else die."

The look in Sam's eyes was heartbreaking. Dean could hardly say no when his brother looked that sad.

"All right," Dean said. "But if anything happens to you while I'm gone, I swear to god, I will bring you back and kill you myself."

Sam let out a sad chuckle.

"I'll be fine," he said again. "Go."

Dean hesitated as he walked to the door to the living room. He didn't want to leave Sam by himself or even with Bobby when he was this vulnerable. Especially not after everything that Sam had gone through.

"I'll watch out for him," Bobby said in a low voice as Dean hesitantly climbed the stairs. "And you won't be alone. Joshua and Teague said they'd meet you in Bristol."

"If anything happens, call me," Dean said. "If he so much as breathes wrong, I want to hear about it."

"I will," Bobby promised. "Take care of yourself out there. I speak for him and for me when I say we don't want to lose you again."

"Remember this was your idea old man," Dean said. "But I will be careful. Ellen and Jo will be okay. Hell won't know what hit it."

Bobby smiled once, but it was a bitter smile. He clapped Dean on the shoulder and headed for the kitchen. Dean sighed before going up to his room to pack.