Yes, this chapter is way overdue. But every time I would go to read it over, I fell asleep. Been busy lately. All in all, I finally got it done. Enjoy :)

Ch. 10

Three months ago.

"See, I told you. You can do it."

Sam shakes his head. "Fluke."

Dean snorts. "Idiot."

Sam shrugs.

"So do it again."

Sam sighs.

"Do it."

With an annoyed frown, he pulls his blade from its sheath, twirling it around through his fingers before turning and swinging his arm forward to throw it all in a split second motion of annoyance. It hits the target dead center. He blinks.

Dean laughs. And laughs. He leans against a tree as he tries to pull himself together.

Sam looks to him, smiling softly. He really missed that sound.

"I think you've found your new talent, Sammy," Dean gets out when he's calmed himself. "You've always been good at throwing knives, but not that good. I'm impressed."

Sam shrugs almost shyly, walking over to pull his knife from the target. "Control," he says simply.

"We should see how far away you can get."

They do. Sam's accuracy stays perfect for a long distance.

Dean grins next to him. "You wanna try some sparring?"

Sam looks to him, biting his lip.

"What?"

He shrugs, looking away as he goes to retrieve his blades.

"No, Sam. Don't do that. Don't shut me out. C'mon. What's up?"

Sam stops after pulling a knife from one of the targets. He looks at it as he twirls it around. Something he's been doing for weeks now, prompting Dean to have him actually use them. "Afraid."

Dean's heart freezes at that word. Sam never admits to fear. "Of what, Sammy?"

Sam looks to him. "Still don't feel in control."

"You just said…"

"Control over the knife. Not necessarily anything else."

Dean's hand closes around his arm. "I'm right here. I won't let anything happen, okay?"

Sam nods, looking down at the knife again. "S'what I'm afraid of.

He shakes his head. "Sam. You need to let me help you with this. I don't understand everything that's going on in your head. Why you hesitate to do things you've always done or why you're more nervous than you've ever been. But I'm here. Right here. And I'm not going anywhere so it'll be easier on both of us if you let me in."

Sam taps the flat side of the blade against the palm of his hand as he thinks. Then he looks up to Dean. "Start slow."

Dean nods. "Anything you want. But we need to keep moving forward."

Sam puts his blade away, nodding.

Dean steps forward, putting his hands on Sam's shoulders. He looks into his brother's eyes. "Anything that's going on in your head, push it away. Right now."

Sam makes a face.

Dean sighs. "Close your eyes. Sam… Okay. Now breathe. Just breathe."

He does. He breathes. In, out. In, out.

"What do you hear? Tell me."

"Dean…"

"Humor me, bitch."

"Jerk."

"What do you hear?"

A sigh. "Birds. Leaves."

"What else?"

"Your voice."

"Now, what do you feel?"

"The wind. Your hands on my shoulders."

"Open your eyes."

Sam does, looking down the small gap to Dean.

"Now what do you see?"

Sam's breath catches. He gets it. "You."

"What else?"

"Just you."

Dean smiles, then puts his hand over Sam's heart. "I'm right here, Sam. Hear me, feel me, see me, or not."

Sam nods.

"I know your uncertainty about what's real and what's not really gets you. Even if you aren't seeing the devil anymore. You aren't lieing about that, right?"

Sam shakes his head.

"We're going to get through this whole leviathan problem. Together. You and me. Nothing else matters. Clear your head of everything else right now. It's just you and me. Okay?"

Sam nods, closing his eyes to breath a few times before opening them and looking down at Dean. "You and me."

Dean pats Sam's chest where his hand is still resting over his heart. "Let it all go and you'll feel better. You will." Then, just to cement his words, he pulls Sam into his arms.

Sam doesn't even question him. Just closes his arms tightly around his brother, burying his face in his neck like he used to when he was a kid and his brother was the strongest person in the world. "I'll try," he mumbles.

"That's all I'm asking."

Sam's better. Much better. Totally worth the chick-flick moment the other day. He's not as jumpy. A little more confident. Less dependent on Dean, though he still likes to keep him near. Dean notices it's more when they're away from the cabin though. He contemplates this. Eventually he decides it's time to get Sam out more. Give him back the skill of conforming to a different environment. But he also thinks it might help him relax a little.

So that's what he does. Packs up the impala and almost physically pushes Sam out the door. "We're going camping."

"We're in a cabin."

"We're going camping like we used to."

"The car's too small."

"You say that every time. Besides, it's nice enough that we can lay on the ground tonight."

Sam wrinkles his nose as he gets into the impala.

"Stop complaining. It's a part of our training."

"Dean."

"No."

Sam grunts.

"Exactly. Now shut up and let me drive."

He doesn't go far. Just about two hours down the mountain, and turning into a clearing he finally sees off the side of the road through some trees. He parks the impala where it won't be seen from the road in case (by some impossible chance) someone comes by. Then he gets out.

Sam sighs as he stands. "We have a back yard."

Dean glares.

Sam shrugs. Just saying.

Dean ignores him, pulling stuff together for a fire.

For a while, Dean watches Sam's eyes shift everywhere. His body is tense. His hands seem to move a lot without actually doing anything. Eventually though, he calms down enough to sit next to Dean with his back at the impala and the fire in front of them.

"Marshmallow?"

Sam laughs, reaching into the bag his brother seemed to magically produce and looks around for a stick.

Dean holds one out to him. He grins in triumph when Sam laughs again. "I'm always prepared, Sammy boy."

Sam rolls his eyes, watching as his marshmallow slowly browns. He looks to Dean's, scrunching up his nose when he sees it catch on fire. It scrunches more when Dean waits to blow it out until it's burnt all over.

Dean doesn't even look over. "Eat your food the way you like. Leave mine alone." He pulls it off the stick, popping it into his mouth. "Ow. Hoh. Wery hoh."

Sam rolls his eyes at his brother's garbled words. "Serves you right for burning it to death." He pulls his perfectly browned marshmallow off his stick, looking to Dean smugly.

His brother glares, finally swallowing. "Shut up."

"You're just jealous your marshmallow sucked."

Dean punches him in the arm, staring in wonder at his brother as he puts a new marshmallow on his stick. He can't tear his eyes from the genuine smile on his brother's face. Dimples and everything. Finally. His brother is relaxing for the first time in months. He looks away quickly when Sam starts to look back. He busies himself with getting another marshmallow of his own.

It's quiet for a while. Leaning against the car as they watch the fire burn until it's low enough to see the stars clearly. It's when Dean is throwing another load of branches onto the fire that Sam speaks again.

"Thanks."

Dean looks to him. "For what?"

Sam shrugs. "Getting us out here. It's almost like…"

"The crap from the past few hears hasn't happened?"

Sam nods. "Yeah."

Dean notices suddenly that Sam has been talking more out here. But his voice is still that of the war-weary. Sad, angry, hurt, and so much more wrapped into the rough timber and lowness his voice has come to be. But tonight, there's a slight lightness to it. Less of the detached sound it's had.

Dean gives him a soft, half-smile. "You're welcome."

Sam smiles back.

They've made a step towards his healing tonight. Dean's a little proud of the part he played in that.

Two and a half months ago.

"Sam. Hey!" Dean is panicking over his unresponsive brother. They ran into a werewolf when getting supplies. They went to the town a few hours down the mountain, one the leviathans had went through, and ran into the creature as it scrounged through the city.

They didn't see it until it was too late. It leapt on Sam, sending him to the ground before he could even reach for his knife. It was after Dean shot it that he saw the red on his brother's arm. Then the panic set in.

"Sam! C'mon man! I need you to let me know you're still in there."

Sam only leans against the SUV where Dean set him up, eyes seemingly blank. Empty. It scares the hell out of Dean.

"Sammy!" He's stitching up the would now. Already almost done. It was deep, though not long or very wide. But there's a cold pit in his stomach. He doesn't know whether it was a bite or a scratch. "C'mon, Sam." He also doesn't know how to reach his brother. Has no idea what happened.

After wrapping Sam's arm and still not getting an answer, he does the only thing he can think of. He takes Sam's face in his hands, pulling his brother's face to touch his forehead to his. "Sammy. If you're in there, I need you to hear me. I'm right here. Okay?" He threads his fingers through Sam's hair like he used to do when they were kids. "Feel me. I'm right here." He tilts Sam's face up to look at him. "Look at me, Sam. I'm right here."

He repeats that for a while. Going between soothing his brother and trying to get him to respond. Always ending with 'I'm right here'. Eventually, when he looks into his brother's eyes, there's life in them. "Sammy?"

Sam blinks. Then lets out a breath, as if he had been holding it. "Dean."

"Right here, man."

Sam's eyes meet his. There's fear in them. "What happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me. You blanked out there."

Sam looks down at his arm. He seems to stop breathing. "Was it a bite?"

"Damn."

Sam looks up, eyes wide.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Sam seems to slump back against the car again. He looks down at his wrapped arm. "You might have to-"

"No."

"Dean…"

"I said no. It has to be a scratch. Now come on. Let's get home."

Sam doesn't argue. Too worried to. The drive back to the cabin is tense and silent. He feels his brother's eyes on him. "I'll let you know if I feel anything," he mutters.

Dean's hands tighten on the wheel. "I wasn't… I'm just worried about you."

Neither of them talk again until they're back at the cabin. When they get there a few hours later, Dean pulls Sam by a fist in his shirt into the house and pushes him onto the couch. "Now you are going to sit here and rest. I'll get you food."

Sam grabs his arm as he starts moving away. "Dean."

Dean tries to pull away.

Sam reaches around and grabs the gun from his brothers back, flipping it in his hands before holding the handle out to him. "At least have it ready."

Dean looks at him for a second, mouth partly open and eyes wide in shock. Then he snaps out of it. "No." He takes the gun, taking the magazine of silver bullets out and throwing it into a corner of the room.

Sam huffs, running a hand through his hair. "Dean you need to be ready to do what needs to be done."

Dean shakes his head. "I won't kill you. I'll chain you up or something."

"S'not going to work," Sam sighs.

"We don't even know if anything happened. And I'm pretty sure it didn't." When Sam doesn't look up from where he's staring into his lap, he sighs and sits on the couch next to him. "You're fine Sam. You'll see." He throws his arm around Sam's shoulders, pulling him against his side and gently nudges his little brother's head down to rest on his shoulder.

Sam concedes, letting out a sigh. "Idiot."

Dean chuckles. "I'm right here. We'll wait out the night together. Alright?"

Sam nods. Doesn't bother trying to persuade his brother to do anything. It isn't going to work anyway.

They sit through the night. Watch the moon rise and the white light through the window move across the floor. Eventually, Dean moves them so they're laying side by side on the couch, his arm still curled around Sam's shoulders so his brother has to lay his head on his chest. Not unlike how they used to lay when they were little. And how they've started waking up like in the mornings from Sam's 'cuddle instinct' since they started sharing a bed again.

Eventually, Sam falls asleep. In the morning, he blinks his eyes open to the sun coming through the window. He lifts his head, looking down at his brother as he sleeps peacefully next to him. It's with a look of wonder spreading across his face that he finally gets it. Dean really is right here. And he isn't going anywhere. He's trying his best to keep Sam together. And he really wants to be here. Otherwise, he wouldn't try so hard to reach out.

He lays his head back on Dean's chest, closing his eyes and smiling a little at the sound of his brother's heartbeat. He falls back to sleep. Neither of them wake up for a while.

Yeah, I know it was obvious nothing was gonna happen because they're fine in the present. But there's no way life at the cabin could be peaceful. And the boys are just a magnet for trouble. But the trouble is what pushes them closer together so I used this as a way to show how they became so dependent on each other. How Sam totally decides to make Dean his stone number one. So yes. That's what this chapter was.