I've taken some artistic liberty.

Dust and Gold - Arrows to Athens

Despite bracing himself for it, Sam was surprised that there was no awkwardness or embarrassment between them. In fact things couldn't have been any smoother and he was grateful for this. To be fair, they hadn't broached the topic again but he wasn't worried.

They weren't actually the type to sit around talking about their feelings all the time.

They'd just had a huge talk about talking more but he knew that Dean would definitely hurt him if he tried to do so all the time. He also knew that if he did need to, he could, judgment free. And that was what mattered.

He stretched distractedly. He was in the library re-reading that book on Mayan gods and sacrificial magics. He hadn't absorbed anything from it the first time he read it a few weeks ago. Something about the whole thing was setting him on edge, like an itch beneath his skin. He couldn't help feeling this vague sense of urgency buzzing beneath the surface.

The chair scrapped against the floor as his legs pushed against it. He balanced against the hind legs to further the stretch and get his circulation flowing again. He'd been sitting in the same position for hours and his muscles were stiff and protesting.

Pretty soon he'd have to get up to get a drink or something to eat. He hadn't eaten anything since lunch and it was already pushing 8pm. He was pretty sure Dean had told him there were leftovers in the fridge but he'd been too absorbed in what he was doing to pay attention at the time.

He looked at the books on the table again. There was the Mayan book, his notes and a journal from one of the Letter Men. The journal had actually sent him to the Mayan book. The Letter Man, Jonathan had referenced it specifically because it had highlighted the means to kill Mayan gods.

He was pretty sure there was a hunt in there, but he needed to do some more digging.

He picked up his notebook and went over his notes carefully. After a while, the familiarity of his writing caused his eyes to glaze over, allowing his mind to again return to Dean and last night. That had been happening a lot through out the day. Thinking about Dean.

For the twelve plus years that they rode together, he'd felt like he was holding Dean back. It was like everything he did was wrong. So much so that he couldn't understand how Dean could forgive him time and again. Because of this, he'd spent so much of his time trying to make up for his mistakes, trying to do anything that would prove that he was worthy of travelling with Dean.

He'd been so blinded by his crusade that he'd lied to Dean, kept things from him all the while convincing himself that he was doing it all because he had to. It was for Dean.

All along he'd been doing these things to compensate for his feelings of insecurity. When in fact, he never had to prove anything to Dean. He could see the truth of it in hindsight. He was operating under the idea that he was proving his worth but to his brother he'd never needed to do so.

Dean had changed his life so drastically with a few words spoken in the dark of his room.

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned his attention to his work again.

He heard movement in the hallway behind him seconds before Dean rounded the corner. He had his headphones hanging loosely around his neck as he strolled casually into the room. He was holding a plate in one hand and two beer bottles in the other. Nodding, he raised the two bottles slightly in greeting when he noticed that he had Sam's attention.

"Hey," he said as he placed the plate in front of Sam. It was Dean's patented grilled cheese and egg sandwich.

"Hey," Sam replied, picking up one of the triangles and taking a bite. "Thanks," he said around a mouthful.

Twisting the top off one of the bottles, Dean placed it in front of Sam. He sat down with a sigh, took a long swallow from the other bottle and lounged as comfortably as he could in the hard chair. All the while, Sam looked at him, saying nothing.

"What?" he asked crossing his legs up on the table. He turned away from Sam not expecting an answer and placed the headphones on his head.

Taking another bite out of his sandwich, Sam bowed his head and smiled. No matter what, Dean was always looking out for him. He went back to his books and not long after that, he absently noticed that the second piece of the sandwich was gone.

This was becoming a habit, Sam thought as Dean shook him awake. He'd fallen asleep at the desk while working.

"Hey," Dean croaked. He must have fallen asleep too.

Groaning at the pain in his back, Sam tried to pop his muscles back into place only to grin when he looked up at Dean. He had crease marks branded into his cheeks where he must have fallen asleep on his headphones.

Dean rubbed his neck sorely and muttered, "let's never do that again."

"Sure thing, old man," Sam said, standing up to stretch his limbs. Actually he agreed with Dean. Falling asleep at the table lost its appeal years ago but any chance to get one on his brother he would take.

"You're not far behind me. Keep laughing."

Sam made one of his faces. He figured Dean would know he was not amused from his expression.

Checking the time, he noticed that it was much closer to morning than it was to night and making a choice, he decided to stay up and continue working. He was even more sure now that he had a hunt and time was of the essence.

He said as much to Dean. "Suit yourself. I'm going to catch a couple more hours in an actual bed."

Sam spent most of that day researching. The more he looked into the things referenced in the Letter Man journal, the more sure he was that something was going on.

Off and on through out the day he would see his brother but generally Dean was more gone than he was present.

At regular periods food would appear in front of him and at one point Dean walked by him covered in blood and bits so he figured he was keeping himself busy. He simply raised an eyebrow and went back to what he was doing. It was best not to ask.

The day was starting to wind down when Dean took the seat across from him.

"What's going on Sam?" he asked seriously.

"I think I found us a case?"

"You said earlier but you don't sound sure." He rubbed a tired hand over his face.

"Oh I'm sure there is a case it's just that I'm not sure of... the timing?"

"Let me guess," Dean said wearily. "Another all-nighter?"

Sam made an apologetic face. And winced at the deep groan of resignation his brother let out.

"How can I help." Dean offered even though he looked like he was ready to drop.

"No. I almost got it. I just need to check a few things," already being pulled back to the documents in front of him.

Getting up, Dean gave him a look. "I'd keep you company man, but this chair is uncomfortable." He tilted his head consideringly. "And this room is freakin' cold. I don't know how you're dealing."

Pausing, Sam looked at him.

"Or you could finish up the rest of this," at that he gestured to the laptop and books on the table, "in the room. It's warm there and the couch is comfy."

As soon as Dean mentioned the cold, a chill sent goosebumps up and down Sam's body. It was cold in in the library, especially at night. It's just that he chose to ignore it.

If given an alternative though, he didn't have to think hard on it. If the options were to spend time with his brother or not, he'd always choose the former.

"Sure," he smiled and started gathering his things. Dean hid a look of relief as he helped him.

They were comfortable in the room. Dean was on his bed listening quietly to some movie and Sam was clacking away on his laptop, every now and then he'd move to one of the books spread out around him on the couch. They weren't really talking but the silence was companionable.

Sam never would have thought that the orange glow of the lamp could feel so warm and inviting. It cast soft light and shadows in the room, giving everything a slight glow.

Dean chuckled softly at something on his screen and that immediately stole Sam's focus. He sat back for a moment and really looked around. He knew that he was starting to associate this room with home.

When he'd first come to the bunker, he'd not been able to settled into it the way that Dean had. Sam had considered himself homeless for the majority of his life and although they were permanently moved into the bunker, to him it was just another building in a long line. He'd felt this way even recently.

He hadn't told his brother how he was feeling because to Dean, this place represented something he'd always wanted and he wanted Sam to feel the same way.

There wasn't a person on this planet who knew him better than Dean and yet he seemed to miss this pretty important thing. Sam had never considered any physical place home, maybe save the Impala. His home had always been with Dean.

It made sense then that this room would start to feel like home to him. It was the room his brother had claimed.

His mind came to attention when he felt eyes on him. He started slightly when he realized that he had been staring at his brother absently.

"Do I have something on my face?" he gestured to his entire head.

"No. I think I've figured it out," Sam deflected. He motioned for Dean to come near.

Pausing his video, Dean hopped off his bed as Sam made room for him.

"So I've been going through the Men of Letters books and cataloging them right?" At this Dean nodded. "Well," Sam continued, "I found a journal belonging to a man by the name of Jonathan Fisher. Fisher was kind of a rebel among the Letter Men. He didn't want to just observe. He thought that they should be out there helping people with the resources they had.

"He made enough noise about it that his superiors threatened to expel him if he went against their ways. The MOL were all about legacy so he couldn't afford to get expelled but his conscience wouldn't let him sit around doing nothing so he'd go through the unsolved cases, figure out how to fix the thing or kill the monster and he'd send one of his hunter friends to work it. Everything he documented is in this journal here." He picked it up to show Dean.

"He didn't solve all the cases of course," he took a quick breath of excitement as he got into it. "No. He may have figured out how to fix the problem but real life is never so simple. Some they were able to solve, some his friend couldn't find the monster, some they missed the opportunity and so on. The cursed object case you went one was one of his. They couldn't figure out where it was."

"I'm guessing you found another hunt that he couldn't 'figure out.'"

"Yea. So get this. He thought that there was some kind of Mayan God sacrificing people in El Paso, Texas. His notes showed a rash of missing persons. He tracked it back two cycles and he was pretty sure that it matched the same patterns as the Mayan god of love Yantho."

"How's he sure. Seems like a stretch. People go missing in big cities all the time."

"And that's what the police said at the time as well. The problem is that there was a Laelia orchid present at the last known location of several of the missing victims and according to the lore, when Yantho accepts a tribute he leaves a Laelia orchid to let others know that person was chosen," This he said triumphantly. "That's what tipped Jonathan to the case. Yantho has a twenty year sacrifice cycle." He picked up a book and opened it to a bookmarked section.

"On the twentieth year, twenty offerings would be made to Yantho. The worthy would receive Yantho's mark and the women would be given many seasons of fertility,"

Closing the book he opened up his laptop. "Jonathan sent his hunter friend but he couldn't figure out how the victims were being chosen or where Yantho was and the year passed."

"I'm getting the feeling that Jonathan's hunter buddy wasn't very good at his job. That cursed scissors was easy to find." Sighing Dean sat back on the couch, letting his head rest against the back. "Let me guess, the cycle is starting again."

"Jonathan wrote this in 1938. It's on a twenty year cycle, so yes. At first I thought that maybe he was reaching, you know, but I've been going through missing persons reports in El Paso since 1978, the earliest records I could find," he explained. |"And like clockwork, on the twentieth year, several missing persons' reports would mention a strange flower. Because the city is a border town and the flower is native to Mexico the police just attributed it to being an import. I'm guessing that many probably didn't even bother to note it in their reports."

"Why would they? They don't know what's really out there so they probably thought it was unimportant."

Sam snuck a glance at his brother and relaxed when he noticed that his eyes were closed. "Right."

"1978, so the time after that was 1998 and then now this year."

"There have been fifty seven people reported missing in El Paso over the past two months. Thirty four of them were found safely. Seven of them were not so lucky. Of the sixteen still unaccounted for, two of them had mentions of a strange flower in the reports. Henry Mason, college kid at UTEP and Isabella Louis, a receptionist. Different officers and both mentions of the strange flower were incidental. I's dotted and T's crossed kind of thing."

"So when do we leave?" Dean sat up, suddenly energized. He always got like that for the hunt.

"I'd say day after tomorrow? Still have some things to figure out."

"Texas huh?" Dean got up and grabbed his phone and laptop. "I'll find us a room."

Sam nodded as he went back to organizing his information. Their success hinged on the quality of his work and he prided himself on it. Closing the books, he dropped them gently on the floor and swang his long legs up so he could lay down on the couch. He propped the laptop onto his chest and went about sorting the documents into a workable order.

He woke up when he heard the door open. He hadn't even noticed that he'd fallen asleep. Lifting his legs, Dean took a seat at the foot of the couch. "Motel's booked. We can make it there for 5 or 6pm if we leave here at around 5am day after tomorrow."

Sam hummed his acknowledgement as he rubbed his face into the pillow tiredly. It smelled like Dean a little, he thought.

"Sorry. I'm a little tired. Your couch is way too comfortable." He made a move to get up but Dean stopped him.

"Then sleep. We can harsh out the details tomorrow."

"Okay," Sam sighed.

"Now get your giant paws off me," he said. Despite his words, he patted Sam's legs gently before raising them so he could get up.

"Good night Sasquatch."

"Night Dean."