Sam woke up for the first time in the middle of Missouri. It looked like he was having a nightmare, and when he woke he had the same panicked look in his eyes as when Tara found him.

"It's just me, remember?" She said.

He nodded as a sign of recognition. She decided to ask another question.

"So I know you gave me the city, but could you be a little more specific as to where this bunker is? Like, coordinates?" She handed him a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled a couple of numbers on the paper and handed it to her. She inputted the coordinates into her GPS. When she looked over at him again, he was passed out. She turned her eyes back to the road.

He didn't wake up again until they reached the bunker. That was when Tara realized why Sam called it a bunker. It was a big building that looked like it could withstand a nuclear blast. There was no way anything could break into there.

She took the key and turned it into the lock of the large metal door. With a click of mechanisms, the door swung open into a dark room.

Tara walked back to the car and opened the passenger side door. Sam was already awake and alert, like he could sense where he was. He was already halfway out of the car. Grabbing his arm to keep him upright, they made their way towards the bunker. Tara flipped on the lights with her free hand, and stared in amazement at the scene set before her. There was no time for her to stand in awe, however, as Sam kept moving. It was as if something was pulling him forward, calling him home.

With every step he moved more quickly, navigating the maze that was the bunker easily. He could probably do it blindfolded, Tara mused. He stopped in a bedroom that looked like it hadn't been touched for months. Everything was in perfect condition, just waiting for their owner to come home. And now Sam is home, Tara thought to herself with a smile. I helped bring someone home.

Everything didn't stay in its pristine condition for long. Sam collapsed on the bed, and suddenly the room didn't look so empty anymore. He pulled the covers up, closed his eyes, and visibly relaxed. This really is a safe place, Tara thought. I wish I had a place like this.

She walked all the way down the hall and almost made it out the door when she stopped. Yes, the guy was home, but his brother, wherever he was, wasn't there. She'd driven 15 hours from Georgia to get this guy home, but could she really just leave him here? She wanted to leave, she really did. But she came this far, and it wasn't like she needed to be anywhere. She pressed her forehead against the door, exasperated. She took a deep breath and opened the door, walking into the sunshine.

Only to come back in with her duffle bag 5 minutes later. She'd stay. Why not?

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN

Dean had a major headache as he drove down the road. That's what happens when you drink yourself into a stupor, he thought with a cynical smile spreading across his tired face. He'd stayed at the bar until they finally kicked him out at nine a.m. By then he'd already managed to get himself extremely drunk and had barely managed to make it back to the hotel before passing out on the bed. He heard Sam's voice in his head telling him not to drive home drunk, but he'd ignored it. It really didn't matter if he crashed the car now. His brother was gone, and without him in the passenger seat life didn't seem to matter that much anymore. He'd crashed when he got to the motel and had slept a full 24 hours. And now, at 10:00 a.m., he was driving back to the bunker with the headache of the century.

The first thing he noticed when he got back to the bunker was the red truck parked in front of the entrance. He narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar object. It could be demons or vampires or a million other things that wanted to kill him and steal the secrets from the bunker. For a fleeting second he had a hope that it was Sam, but the hope died quickly. Sam would've called him, and he would've been there in half the time. He pushed back the tears that threatened to fall, and instead turned the sadness into anger. He grabbed a gun loaded with silver bullets and handcuffs from the glove compartment and went inside.

He heard the sound of running water coming from the kitchen. He cocked his gun and listened as footsteps came from the kitchen. As soon as he saw the shadow, he turned the corner and pointed the gun at the source of the noise…

And came face to face with a very surprised teenage girl.

Sure, it wasn't what he had been expecting, but looks could be deceiving. It could still be a demon or a vampire or a werewolf, so he still held the gun steady.

"What are you? What are you doing here?!" Dean demanded.

The girl slowly raised her hands in surrender. "Okay, calm down. I'm human."

Dean eyed her suspiciously. She didn't exactly look evil. She was dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and blue jeans and looked more tired than dangerous. But if she was dangerous, then he couldn't take any chances.

"I'm gonna ask one more time, and for your sake I hope you answer. What are you doing here?"

"I brought that guy in, the one I found in the woods? I wanted to take him to a hospital, but he said it wasn't safe and he wanted to come here. I should've taken him to a hospital, 'cause he was half dead when I found him, but I decided to do what he wanted and bring him here. And what do I get? A gun pointed at my face."

Dean stared at her like she had started talking in tongues. A man? Could it be… No. It wasn't possible. Sam was dead. He died at Lucifer's hands, all alone, probably screaming…Dean shook the thought out of his head. It was too painful. He pushed back the lump in his throat, but a sense of hope had risen in his chest.

"Where is he, this guy you brought in?"

"In his room. Or what I think is his room, the third one on the left. I don't know if it's his room. We haven't really spoken since I found him. Now can you please lower the gun?"

Dean lowered his gun slowly and both of them relaxed. But then, as quick as lightning, Dean grabbed the girl's wrist, slapped the handcuffs on, and locked them to the leg of the table. He ignored her protests and started towards what he really hoped was the only family he had left. His pace quickened, and before he knew it he was running. He found the third door on the left and stopped. What if it wasn't Sam? He'd been hoping to find his brother for so long, to keep the promise he made when they were just kids. It was his job to keep Sammy safe, and after all the times he'd let his brother down, he couldn't stand to do it one more time. He held his breath as he turned the doorknob.

What Dean saw when he opened the door almost stopped his heart. Because Sam was there, he was alive, he was safe, and that was all Dean could ask for. He was at his brother's side in a second, reaching out a hand just to make sure his brother was real. His fingers ran through his brother's much too long hair, and Dean almost sobbed with relief. I thought you were dead, Sammy. I thought that I had failed you again and that you were dead, or worse. But you're here, and you're okay, and if you're not okay then I'm going to put you back together again. I'm not leaving you. I promise.

"So I guess that you're the brother he was talking about," came a voice from the doorway. Dean turned to see the girl leaning against the door frame.

"How did you get out of the cuffs?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know how to pick a lock. It's not that difficult." She nodded towards Sam. "Is he alright? I did my best patching him up."

Dean swallowed and nodded. "I think he's going to be okay." His voice broke for a second, but he quickly recovered. "What happened to him? And who are you?"

"My name is Tara DiAngelo. I found your brother in the woods, in Georgia. There was a large amount of demon activity in the area, and I was supposed to meet up with some hunters to help clear the place out."

Dean looked up from his brother's sleeping form. "Aren't you a little young to be a hunter? How old are you anyway?"

Tara looked annoyed, as if she got that question a lot. "I'm sixteen, and I'll be seventeen in October." Seeing the skeptical look on Dean's face, she jumped to defend herself. "I'm a pretty decent hunter. I've been hunting since I was fourteen, and I've faced a lot of supernatural creatures on my own and lived to tell about it. Of course, the other hunters still think I'm a kid, which I guess I am, so they've never really been willing to work with me. I guess that was kind of a blessing."

"What do you mean?"

"My car broke down, and the other hunters didn't wait for me. When I got to them…" She shivered at the thought of what she'd seen. "They're dead. All of them."

The room got really quiet for a second, and then Dean said, "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. "Nothing to be sorry for. It wasn't your fault." She sighed and gave a sad smile. "It's just a shame, you know? I know for a fact that almost every hunter involved had family, family that will never see their loved ones again." She smiled again, except it was genuine this time, and nodded at Sam. "But hey, at least I brought somebody's family home."

Dean smiled too, for the first time in months, and looked back at his brother. "Where does Sam fit in to all of this?"

"I found him outside of the warehouse where I found the hunters. He had a grazed gunshot wound on his arm and was almost frozen to death, not to mention the scars."

Dean's head shot up. "What scars?"

Tara reached over and pulled the covers down, revealing the many, many scars, some of them quite new, crisscrossing Sam's chest. Dean stared at them, a sudden realization that his brother was not fine, and might not have been fine for months. His brother might be gone, truly gone, gone to a place that his older brother could not pull him back from. Because Dean recognized those kinds of scars; he'd had them all over his chest when he was in hell. Dean's heart sank and was replaced with a fiery vengeance. His little brother was tortured, and no one gets away with that. Not even the devil himself.

Dean was brought back to his senses by a tap on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" Tara asked. "You kinda spaced out for a second there."

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dean lied. In reality he felt a little sick to his stomach, but he couldn't show that. Winchesters didn't do stuff like that.

Dean turned to Tara and crossed his arms. "Look, kid, I really appreciate this, but I can handle this now. You can go home."

A moment of sadness flashed through Tara's brown eyes, and it was replaced with anger. But her tone was totally neutral when she said, "I don't have a home to go to."

"Come on, you've got to have some family to go back to."

She tried to force a smile, even though her eyes filled with pain. "I became a hunter for a reason. Every hunter has their reason to start. Can you guess my reason?"

Dean was taken aback a little bit. This girl couldn't have been more than 18 and she already had the tragic backstory part of a hunter's backstory covered. For a moment, he wondered if he should ask what happened, but remembering the pain that had filled Tara's eyes, he shook the thought away.

Tara tried to play it off as she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. "Besides, I drove 15 hours straight to get here and I haven't slept in 36 hours. I've already put in this much time, so I might as well see it through."

She held out her hand. "We haven't been properly introduced. My name is Tara Di Angelo, I'm 16 years old, and I'm a hunter. And you are?"

Dean gave a tired smile and shook her hand. "Dean Winchester."

Tara dropped his hand and gaped at him, her eyes wide. "Dean Winchester? The Dean Winchester?"

"The one and only," Dean replied, feeling a little confused. "Do you know me or something?"

"Well who doesn't know you?! You're Dean Winchester! You and your brother are famous in the hunting world!" Her eyes widen even more when another realization hit. "Your brother! Oh my God, your brother, Sam! He told me his name but I never put two and two together. I'm such an idiot." She looked at Dean with admiration. "You two are awesome."

"Wait, hold on. Me and Sam are famous?"

"Well duh. Everyone still tells stories about what happened during the Apocalypse. How Sam took control and chucked Lucifer back into the pit, and sure, some hunters are still angry that Sam started the whole thing, but they know they don't stand a chance against you two. You guys are the best in the business. You two are heroes."

Dean could list a million reasons why that wasn't true, but instead he just said, "Thanks, kid."

The room got really quiet for a moment as Dean processed this information. Then Tara's phone rang, ending the silence. She didn't even need to look at the caller ID to know who it was.

"Hey, Garth. Did you get the hunter's taken care of?"

"Yeah, and from what I hear it wasn't pretty. Is it true that no one got out alive?"

"Yeah."

Tara heard Garth sigh on the other side of the line. "That sucks, man. That's some heavy stuff."

Seeing Dean staring at her, Tara said, "Listen, Garth, I've got to go." Her voice softened for a second when she said, "And Garth? Give my condolences to the Anderson kid, and find the him someone to stay with. That poor boy is an orphan now."

Garth was silent for a moment before saying, "Yeah, I can do that."

"Thanks, Garth. And be careful."

The call ended and Dean asked, "Garth? You called Garth to take care of this? How do you even know Garth?"

"Everyone knows Garth. Garth is the guy who finds hunts for the hunters who can't find any. Of course, it's an anonymous number and he goes by a codename. He can't have his secret getting out."

This seemed to surprise Dean even more. "You know his secret too?"

"The werewolf thing? I kinda ran into him on a hunt a year or so ago. He didn't seem to be hurting anyone so I decided to leave him alone. He talks about you guys a lot." A grin spread across her face. "You two might as well be gods in his eyes. You should pay him a visit sometime."

"I'm surprised he's still in the hunting business. You would think that with his, um, condition, he would stay away from this sort of thing."

"Hey he knows a lot about a lot of supernatural beings. His library is pretty impressive. Not as impressive as yours, though. This place is a hunter's paradise."

Dean noticed the book on the table next to Sam's bed titled, 'Levels of paranormal activity: explained'. "I see you've been doing a little light reading."

"What else was I supposed to do? Besides, I can appreciate a good book."

Dean turned back to Sam and asked, "How long has he been like this?"

"Do you mean unconscious or practically comatose? Because on the car ride over he was unconscious but as soon as we got here it was like he was on autopilot or something. He came in here and passed out cold. He hasn't really moved since, which is a real improvement given the state he was in before."

"And what state was that exactly?"

"Panicked. Restless. Even when he was unconscious on the way over here he kept mumbling and talking complete gibberish. It was like a fever dream. He didn't calm down until he got here." She looked around the room. "I guess he knew where he was going."

Home, Dean thought with a small smile. He was going home.

Tara, who was studying Dean warily, said, "No offense, but you look like shit."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks."

"I'll go make some coffee. I have a feeling that this is going to be a long night."

Dean's eyes never strayed from his brother, afraid that if he looked away Sam would disappear into thin air. The night dragged on but Dean stayed put, holding on as tight as he could to the brother he vowed would never slip away again.

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this chapter is so late. It's been a busy summer. So, anyway, next chapter is when we get the big brotherly moment: Sam wakes up! I'll try to have it up before next week. Just remember: When Supernatural is on hiatus, I've got your back. Also, I'll be posting a oneshot called "Castiel's Story" shortly. It's just like the title says.