Sorry, again, for the delay. I have had a hell of a time trying to write this story lately, but things are coming together, and I am almost done now. As it stands, there will be three chapters after this one to complete the story.

CoM x

Chapter Five

When Dean got back to Sam's room, two cups of coffee in hand, Amelia was sitting beside his bed holding his hand and Sam was asleep. Blessing his good fortune, Dean handed one of the cups of coffee to Amelia and sat down on the chair against the wall.

"Where did you go?" Amelia asked.

"I had to make a call." Dean said laconically. He wasn't really paying Amelia any attention. He was cataloging Sam's appearance. He looked pale and sickly still, and the shadows under his eyes were pronounced, but he didn't look like he was in pain anymore, which Dean took as a positive. There wasn't much that else could be called positive.

Amelia turned Sam's hand and traced a finger over his palm. There was a look of such tenderness on her face that Dean felt like he was intruding on something private. He didn't look away though. He was still trying to understand Amelia's relationship with Sam, if they weren't a couple why was Amelia so invested in Sam, and observing them together was the only clue he had.

"What's the deal with you two?" he asked. "Sam said you weren't a couple, but the way you are with him…"

"Sam is very important to me," Amelia said sadly.

"You love him."

Amelia nodded, still looking at Sam. "Very much."

"And he loves you."

Amelia smiled slightly and finally turned to look at Dean. "How much has Sam told you about how we came to be together?"

"He said you were there when he had the first seizure and you took care of him. He said you felt sorry for him."

Amelia sighed. "He never did understand. I love Sam, I am in love with him, but he never felt the same way. When I met Sam, I was grieving. My husband had just died—or so I believed—and we clung together for mutual comfort. That developed into something more for me, but never for him. Then Don came back, and everything changed." Seeing Dean's blank look she continued. "Don is my husband. He joined the military and was deployed to Afghanistan. A few months later he was reported dead. I believed he was dead. Then four months ago, while Sam was living with me, I got a call telling me he was alive. He been captured, you see."

"How did Sam take that?" Dean asked. "The news that your husband was still alive?"

Amelia's brow creased into a frown. "The only way he knew how. He left me and moved into the hospital again. Don came back and we started our life together again. I would come and see Sam in the hospital, then one day I arrived to find that he'd left AMA." She drew a deep breath. "Sam was, is, very private. I always knew he wouldn't want me there at the end, and when I heard he'd gone, I thought he had left to die."

Dean cracked his knuckles. "Yeah, he said the same thing to me. He doesn't want me there at the end."

"I can believe that. I can imagine your response, too."

"Damn right. I'm not leaving him to die alone. I'm not letting him die at all."

Amelia smiled slightly. "That right there is denial. It's one of the five stages of grief."

Dean sighed impatiently. She didn't know what she was talking about. How could she? She didn't know the truth of the world. There were ways to save Sam, and he was going to track one of them down and make good on the promise he'd made himself after Sam had been revived the first time, in Cold Oak: that nothing would take away his brother again. He had failed that promise before, but he wouldn't this time.

His phone beeped in his pocket and he pulled it out. His heart leapt into his throat and he hurried out of the room and into the hall.

"Kevin?"

"This better not be a trick," Kevin said brutally.

"Listen to my voice and tell me it's a trick. Sam is dying."

He heard a heavy sigh. "Okay. What do you want me to do?"

"Where are you?" Dean asked.

"Is this line secure?"

"Dammit, Kevin. This isn't some movie. You think Crowley's bugging the phones? Just tell me where you are."

"I'm in Santa Fe. There's a abandoned diner we're hiding out in."

"Okay. Text me the address and I'll be with you tomorrow. I need to stay here tonight to keep an eye on Sam."

"Is he really dying?" Kevin asked.

"He's really sick, but he's not going to die," Dean said determinedly. "Not if I've got anything to do with it."

"I'll see you tomorrow. And, Dean, I'm really sorry about Sam."

"Yeah, me too."

Dean ended the call and leaned his head back against the wall for a moment, savoring the relief. Kevin was on his way. They still didn't have the demon tablet, but it was a step in the right direction. They had Kevin on side, maybe that would be enough to persuade Sam to get the treatment.

Sam woke up around dusk, and immediately started demanding that they leave the hospital. Dean didn't want to tell him about Kevin yet, not until he'd made sure Kevin wasn't tricking them again, so he helped Sam persuade the nurse to unhook his IV and get him out of there.

Against Sam's protests, Dean insisted that he bring the car around to the entrance to pick him up. When he pulled up, Amelia and Sam were deep in discussion, and he had to wait a few minutes in a no waiting zone for them to finish their conversation.

Eventually, Sam climbed into the passenger side and relaxed into his seat.

"What was that about?" Dean asked.

"Amelia wants us to come stay with her?" Sam said lazily—the drugs were still clearly in his system.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "And you said no because…?" It wasn't that he particularly wanted to stay with Amelia, but he thought it would be more comfortable for Sam to be somewhere he knew better than the motel.

"Because Don will be home soon, and there's only so much the man can be forced to take. Apparently, he's taken work as a long distance lorry driver. But he's due home tomorrow, and I don't think he'd take kindly to finding us sleeping in his spare room. Besides, it's only one more night. Tomorrow we can get back to the search for Kevin.

Dean grunted and pulled out onto the main road. The drive back to the motel took about ten minutes, and Sam spent it all staring out of the window at the passing scenery. He looked deep in thought, and Dean didn't want to annoy him, so he stayed quiet, too.

When they pulled up at the motel, the kid Sam had introduced him to, Everett, was closing up the office. He waved at Sam but he didn't come over, for which Dean was grateful. He wanted to get his brother into the room and get some food in him before he slept. It'd been a hell of a day and despite the fact he'd slept in the hospital, he looked exhausted.

They made their way into the room and Sam immediately sat at the table and pulled out his laptop.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"What do you think? I'm looking for Kevin."

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Listen, Sam, I think I've got a lead on that already."

"You do?" Sam looked shocked. "How'd you do that?"

"I kinda spoke to him earlier."

Sam looked confused for a moment and then some understanding seemed to settle over him. He sighed heavily and snapped the laptop closed. "Let me guess, you told him about me."

"I may also have threatened him a little."

Sam looked so pissed Dean almost expected steam to come out of his ears. He laid his palms flat on the table and stared down at them. When he spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "You threatened him. What were you hoping to achieve, my own mortification?"

Anger came to Dean's defense. "No, Sam. I was hoping to save your life. You said you needed Kevin and the tablet before you'd get treatment, so I delivered Kevin. We've just got to get the tablet back and you're good to go."

"As easy as that, huh?" Sam sighed heavily. "I know this is all a lot for you to take in, but you've got to realize, even if I do get the treatment, I'm still dying. You've got to accept that."

"I don't have to accept shit."

"Yes, you do. The sooner you realize that this is going to happen, the easier it will be for you."

Dean shook his head. "Say the treatment doesn't work—and it might. Doctors are wrong all the time—then we'll find some other way to save you. You're not dying. I won't let you."

Sam got to his feet and walked towards Dean, his hands bunched into fists. Dean thought Sam was going to throw a punch.

"You will let me go," Sam said. "We're not making deals with angels, demons or any other fugly you can come up with. You need to agree to that now or I'm out of here."

"You're going to leave?" Dean asked with a quirked brow.

"Yes," Sam said simply. "And this time, you won't find me. What do you think's gonna happen? You make another deal? The demons won't touch you after what happened last time. Castiel is in Purgatory. Balthazar is gone. You got another angel buddy you're not telling me about?"

Dean shook his head. "I'll find a way."

Sam threw up his arms. "No, you really won't. And you'll only hurt yourself and me trying. You need to get it through your head that this is happening, and you've got to let me go. We made a deal, no matter what happens, we let it happen. This is my time to die, and you're going to let me."

Dean turned away. "I can't do that."

"Fine," Sam said. "I will leave. Good luck fixing me if you can't even find me." He grabbed his duffel from the bed and made for the door.

Dean stepped in front of the door, blocking him. "You can't leave, Sam."

"I can and I will. You can't watch me forever. You have to sleep sometimes. You want to wake up one morning and find me gone?"

"You wouldn't."

Sam huffed a laugh. "I would."

"You can't leave me," he said quietly.

"And you can't save me. I will stay and get the treatment, but only if you swear that you won't interfere with this. When the time comes, you have to let me go."

Dean looked into his eyes and saw the determination there. Dean didn't want his brother to die, but he wanted Sam to leave even less. If this had to happen, Dean had to be there for it. It was an impossible situation, but Dean knew he had to make this deal. He couldn't let Sam leave him.

"Okay," he said quietly. "I won't interfere. When the time comes, I'll let you…" His voice broke.

"You'll let me go," Sam finished for him.

Tears springing to his eyes, Dean nodded. "I'll let you go."

Sam smiled slightly. "Thank you, Dean."

Amelia arrived at their motel the next morning. Dean would have been irritated by her presence if it wasn't for the way Sam smiled when he saw her. She seemed able to provide Sam with some comfort that Dean couldn't, so he put up with her. It didn't hurt that she'd brought breakfast with her.

They sat down at the table together and ate while Sam and Amelia discussed mutual friends. Dean felt a little out of the loop as he didn't know any of the people they were discussing, so he concentrated on his food and plotting out a route to Santa Fe on the laptop.

It wasn't until Sam explained to Amelia that they were leaving that day that Dean's attention turned to them again.

"But why do you have to go?" Amelia asked plaintively.

"There's a friend of ours," Sam said. "He's in trouble, and we need to see him."

"What kind of trouble?"

Dean spoke up. "The kind you're better off not knowing about."

Amelia frowned but she didn't argue. Dean guessed she was used to secrets after all her time with Sam. She'd admitted she knew hardly anything about him.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked.

Sam's lips twisted into a moue of regret. "I don't honestly know, Amelia. There are things we need to take care of and that might take a while. I might not make it back."

Dean's heart twisted painfully in his chest. Sam was talking so matter of fact about the possibility that he might not make it back here to see Amelia before the end. The fact there was an end at all made Dean feel sickened.

"You have to come back," Amelia said.

Sam leaned forward in his chair and took Amelia's hand in his. "You know I can't promise that."

She shook her head jerkily. "You can't just… You have to come back. What are you going to do, spend your last days in some crappy motel?"

Sam sighed heavily and raked a hand over his face. "I haven't really thought about it."

"That's obvious," she said cuttingly then her voice softened. "Don't shut me out, Sam. I get what you've got to do is important, but you can't..." She sighed. "There is always a room for you with me. When it's time, you can come be with me."

Dean's hands fisted on the tabletop. He didn't want to think about this, his brother's last days, he couldn't. He couldn't let his mind travel that path as he didn't think he would be able to stay strong if he did. And he needed to be strong, Sam needed him.

Sam stayed silent for a long time, staring down at the tabletop. Dean expected him to argue with Amelia, to tell her he wasn't coming back, but as usual, Sam caught him off guard. "I'll come back if I can."

Amelia blinked and a tear slipped down her cheek. "You promise?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, if I can, I will be here when it's time."

The address Kevin had given them led to an abandoned building on the outskirts of a small town called Stanley. From the sign above the door, they saw that it was once a diner called Olly's. The paint was peeling from the clapboard walls and the windows were crusted with dirt. It didn't look like anyone was home, but Dean guessed if this was where Kevin and his mom had taken refuge, it would look like that.

"What do you think?" Dean asked. "Is the little nerd scamming us again?"

Sam started as if he had been lost in thought. He peered through the windshield at the building and shrugged. "Only one way to find out." He swung open the door and unfolded his tall frame from the seat. Dean climbed out too and they made their way to the door. Dean raised a fist and hammered on it, shouting Kevin's name.

There was the sound of locks disengaging and the door opened a crack. Dean had a moment's relief, Kevin was there, and then he sputtered as he was doused with a stream of water. He jerked back and rubbed the water from his eyes; at his side, Sam was doing the same. The door swung open and Kevin was revealed standing in the doorway. In his hands was a monster-sized water-gun.

"We're not demons," Dean said bitterly.

Kevin moved back to let them inside and they stepped into the grungy diner. There was dust and other disgusting looking substances covering most of the tables, but the counter had been cleaned recently. Standing behind the counter was Mrs. Tran, and she didn't look remotely happy to see them again. Dean didn't much care whether she was happy or not, he had more pressing concerns. Such as the man standing beside him wiping the water out of his eyes.

"You okay, Sam?" he asked.

Sam nodded. "I'm fine."

Kevin bolted the door again and then moved over to the counter where there was a large jug of some industrial cleaner that Dean would have bet the Impala contained Borax.

Sam rooted through his pockets and pulled out his penknife. "I'm guessing you want to do all the checks."

Kevin nodded.

Sam pulled up his shirtsleeve and cut across his arm, drawing a trickle of blood from the wound. He wiped the blade on his sleeve and then handed the knife to Dean. Dean cut his own arm and then reached for the container of cleaner. He splashed it over his hand and then Sam did the same.

"Okay," Mrs. Tran said, crossing her arms over her chest. "We're satisfied you're not demons or Leviathans, but that doesn't mean you're not trouble." She turned to Sam. "I'm sorry to hear that you're sick, but what exactly do you think my son can do help?"

Dean scowled at her but Sam smiled reluctantly. "To help me? Not a thing. I know that better than anyone."

"Then what are you doing here?" she asked.

"Trying to help your son," Sam said. "I know you want what's best for him, and that means getting back to his old life, but there is no chance of that without Crowley still looking for him. There's only one way to deal with him, and that's closing him up in Hell. You want to do that, you need our help. How are you even going to find the demon tablet without us?"

Mrs. Tran eyed Sam for a moment, and then nodded to Kevin. He grinned and reached under the counter for something. He brandished it with a triumphant smile.

"Is that the…?" Dean began.

"Yep," Kevin said. "It's the tablet."

"How the hell did you get that?" Dean asked.

Kevin grinned. "That's a long story."

Dean pulled a chair round from one of the table and sat down, resting an ankle on his knee. "Have at it then. Tell us all about it."

Sam sat beside Dean, and Dean noticed the fact his hands were shaking slightly on his lap. His eyes were alight with excitement that finding the tablet had brought them though, and he looked so vital and alive that Dean didn't want to spoil it with a question about how he was doing.

Kevin leaned back against the counter and his mother came to stand beside him. Slowly, and with many interruptions, the story was told.

After Kevin and his mother had gone on the run from Sam and Dean, they'd been captured once more, this time by the angels—Dean had to stifle an 'I told you so' at that revelation. Kevin had seen the angel banishing sigil being used before, and his freaky AP brain had stored it away for future knowledge, but he hadn't used it at the time as he figured he and his mother were safer with angels than they would be if Crowley had them.

"Then Naomi came," Kevin said darkly. "And it went to hell from there,"

Naomi was a heavy-hitter, apparently, and she'd brought him the tablet to translate. When he seemed opposed to helping them out, she'd used Mrs. Tran to motivate him.

Sam turned to Mrs. Tran, shock coloring his features. "They hurt you?"

She nodded mutely.

Dean didn't know why he was surprised. With the exception of Castiel—who on occasion had screwed them over—the angels were heavy-weight douche bags.

The next time Kevin and his mother had been left alone, they made their plan. After a particularly motivational session with Naomi, Kevin had made a ruckus, shouting that his mother was sick. When the angels had come running, he'd used the sigil to send them to wherever it was they went when they'd been blasted away. Alone for the first time, he and his mother had grabbed the tablet and made a run for it, stealing a car and driving till they hit somewhere hopeful.

"And you've been hiding out here ever since?" Dean asked.

Kevin shook his head. "We move along every couple of weeks, constantly on the move."

"And you got Dean's call." Sam said tiredly.

Dean's eyes snapped to him. Though his eyes still held the elation of before, they were at half-mast now, and he was pale. Sam caught him looking and shook his head slightly, which Dean took as an instruction to stow his worry and get things over with the Trans.

"We got your call," Kevin said.

"So, now you know where we are, what are you going to do to protect my son?" Mrs. Tran asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance. Dean knew what they needed; protection in the form of a hunter. Dean would have liked to be that hunter but there was something more important for him to do: take care of Sam. There was another option, but it wasn't one he was racing towards with open arms and an expectant smile. It was the only other option though, so he had to go with it.

"There's another hunter we're going to take you to," he said. "His name's Garth. He's a little out there, but he's good at what he does and he'll be able to keep you safe."

"Garth!" Sam said. "You really think…"

"He's all there is. You might not have noticed it, Sam, but hunters are hard to come by these days. We're all out of friends, and the heavenly help has shown they're not to be trusted. We can't do it, Sam. We've got to get you back to the hospital fast."

Sam looked like he wanted to argue, but Dean cut him off.

"We had a deal. You said if I got you Kevin and the tablet you'd get treatment. Guess what? Kevin's here, and he's got the tablet. It's time for you to hold up your end."

"I will. But you don't have to be there. You can go with Kevin and keep him safe while I…" He trailed of as he caught Dean's glare.

"I'm not leaving you," Dean said through gritted teeth. "So you can forget that now. Garth will be with Kevin and you and me are going back to Kermit."

Sam bowed his head and his hair fell down to cover his eyes. Dean waited for him to argue again, to come up with some other reason Dean couldn't be there, but it didn't happen. Sam looked up with bloodshot eyes and forced a smile. "I guess we better get going then."

Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to let me know. I love hearing from you all.

Clowns or Midgets xxx