Chapter Eight

"Hey, Dean," Adam said, pausing in the middle of folding his clothes. "Is Sam really going to be okay?"

The question surprised Dean, but he figured he should have seen it coming, seeing as Adam hadn't stopped shooting furtive, concerned glances in Sam's direction ever since the kid had fallen asleep into his book in the library. Dean had draped a blanket over him and left him there, choosing to wake him up only when it was absolutely necessary to do so, to get him into bed.

"Sam's going to be fine, Small Fry," Dean finally replied, with more confidence than he felt. "He's got us, hasn't he?"

Adam nodded, looking somewhat appeased, and continued folding T-shirts and placing them into the duffel Dean had bought him. Then he asked, "You done packing?"

"Almost," answered Dean, groaning at the thought of the clothes waiting for him on his bed. He hated folding clothes. "And then I have to do Sam's as well."

"Shouldn't we move him?" inquired Adam. "He might not be comfortable."

"Trust me, Small Fry," Dean said, "it's probably his favorite place in the world. He's fine. Don't worry," he added as an afterthought.

Adam nodded again. "Okay."

Dean left Sam's room and proceeded to his own. It seemed strange to him now, with all the sigils and Devil's Traps still painted everywhere. It had taken him and Adam some time to scrub all the blood out of everything, but they'd managed and now the room was good as new. They'd taken special care to ensure Sam wouldn't see a spot of blood anywhere – even when he was perfectly all right Dean didn't want him to know how bad it had gotten.

Finishing with his own clothes, Dean put his bag aside and retrieved Sam's from his room. He emptied it on his bed to first see what Sam already had in there, and then add in whatever more might be needed. Sam's bag, as usual, was packed with military neatness, all clothes folded exactly the same way in small equal-sized squares and sorted according to material and color. Dean snorted – he couldn't help it. Sam was just so OCD, it was hilarious.

He went through a few of Sam's clothes without unfolding them – he knew if he did he'd never be able to fold them back the same way again, and that would make Sam throw an epic bitchfit – and carefully put them inside Sam's duffel. He'd made no move to touch Sam's underwear, which he hadn't even taken out – they might be brothers but there were still some boundaries he wasn't going to cross. And that included Sam's boxers.

Something glinted under one of Sam's shirts and Dean paused, putting down the shirt in his hands. He moved a pile of clothes aside, and then felt his jaw drop at what he saw.

The amulet Sam had given him all those years ago, sitting innocently on a pile of green shirts. Sam had kept it.

Dean sat down on the bed and took it into his hands, running his fingers over the familiar grooves in the cool metal. He'd missed it, regretted throwing it away, but any hope he'd had of getting it back had been lost long ago. He knew he didn't deserve getting it back, and it served him right if he went forever feeling like his neck was horribly exposed.

"What're you – Dean, you okay?"

Dean looked up at the sound of Adam's voice – the boy was standing in the doorway, holding a pair of jeans and looking concerned. Dean realized his mouth was still open, and he closed it, before opening it again to ask, "I'm fine, Small Fry. What is it?"

Adam held up the jeans. "They yours? I found them in the laundry."

"You're doing the laundry?" asked Dean, blinking.

Adam shifted from one foot to another, trying not to look embarrassed. "Well... yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Nothing," said Dean, putting the amulet aside. "It's just, Sam normally does the laundry."

Adam snorted. "Might as well be your wife."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "God help me if I ever marry someone with Sam's OCD habits. I'd go crazy."

Adam laughed, and then asked, "Well, are they yours?" He held up the jeans again.

"Yeah, they're mine," Dean answered, and Adam threw them to him, before walking back to Sam's room to finish his own packing.

Dean put the jeans aside without bothering to fold them, and went back to looking at the amulet. It was the same one, yet it looked different somehow. More... real. Dean squinted down at it before realizing the expression on the small metal face had changed.

It looked angry.

Dean frowned. He knew it was a pretty good amulet but he'd never figured it was sentient. Or was it? Was he imagining it?

Shaking his head to get rid of the thoughts, Dean just breathed out through his mouth, took another deep breath and then slipped it back around his neck. It felt perfect, like it was back where it belonged, and Dean felt unimaginable relief course through him due to the familiar weight around his neck.

He finished packing Sam's bags without another thought towards it, not wanting to admit even to himself that the amulet was creeping him out. When he was done he tidied up the room a bit, before checking his watch.

It was late, and he decided it was high time he got Sam into bed. The kid needed all the rest he could get, and a book probably didn't make a very comfortable pillow.

Sam woke easily enough, sitting up and looking at Dean groggily. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Just after midnight," Dean said. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"But I have to pack," protested Sam half-heartedly.

"I did it for ya," Dean told him. "Come on now. It's late. You need rest."

Sam followed Dean to his room and let his big brother settle him in. When he was comfortably curled on his side (with some amusement Dean reflected on the fact that it was even possible for someone Sam's size to curl up that small), he asked, "Adam?"

"Asleep," Dean answered; he'd checked before going to wake Sam. "He's all right."

"No hallucinations?"

"Nope. Not yet, anyway."

"Let's keep it that way," murmured Sam, before asking, "You going to sleep now?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, I'm beat. Move over, Sasquatch."

He'd only just stopped shifting around when Sam said, "You found it." Dean didn't have to ask to know he was talking about the amulet.

"Yeah," he replied after a few seconds. "When I packed your bag. I didn't know you'd kept it."

"I didn't want to lose it," Sam replied softly, his eyes on the amulet.

Dean didn't answer. Sam was still looking, and it made him feel uncomfortable, plus extremely guilty. He hadn't missed Sam's expression when he'd walked out after throwing it away, and while it hurt to think he was the one who made Sam look that way, it also hurt a lot to know that they were all alone in their fight, and his anger had won out over his sentimental attachment to the trinket.

"I'm glad you want it back," Sam said, and Dean blinked at him.

"I've wanted it back since the moment I threw it away," he confessed. "I just didn't – didn't think I'd ever find it again. Didn't think I deserved to, either."

It was Sam's turn to blink in confusion. "What do you mean? You do deserve it," he said. "More than anyone I know."

Dean swallowed past the unexpected lump in his throat. "Thank you, Sammy," he said. "It means a lot."

Sam smiled at him. "No chick-flick moments?" he said questioningly, teasing Dean.

Dean kicked him. "Bitch," he muttered, and Sam's grin grew wider.

"Jerk," he answered, and Dean had to resist the urge to wrap his arms around him and hold him close. Just a few hours earlier he'd never thought he'd hear Sam call him a jerk, ever again, and now here he was, like nothing had changed, and for that Dean was infinitely grateful.

"Go to sleep," he murmured, patting Sam's head before turning to face the other side. "Long day tomorrow."

"Good night," Sam said, yawning. "And, you know – thank you," he added.

"What for?" Dean turned back to stare in astonishment at his brother.

"For, you know," Sam said, looking awkward, "deciding to keep it."

"Don't be stupid," Dean said, kicking him again. "You little idiot."

Sam kicked him back, but it was half-hearted. "You're an idiot." That, of course, started a war.

"No, you are." Kick.

Kick. "No, you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Oh my God, you two, SHUT UP!"

Sam and Dean both jumped as Adam's voice floated through the walls, and then grinned at each other.

"You're such frigging babies!" Adam complained through the walls, before announcing, "Good motherfucking night, morons."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Quite rude," he observed.

"To be fair, we did wake him up," Dean pointed out.

"I didn't. You did."

"No, you did."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL KILL YOU TWO! ASSHOLES!"

"Will you turn that down?" snapped Adam, kicking Dean's seat from behind.

Dean didn't respond, but instead turned the music higher.

"SMOKE ON THE WAAAATER, THE FIRE IN THE SKY–"

Adam kicked Dean's seat again. "ASS!" he yelled over the music.

"Oh for God's sake," muttered Sam, rolling his eyes. Batting Dean's hand away, he turned the music down. "That okay, Adam?"

"Yeah, thanks a lot," grouched Adam, before folding his arms tightly and glaring out the window.

"What's with you, princess?" asked Dean, sounding annoyed. Adam didn't answer. "Hello? I'm talking to you!"

"I don't care," snapped Adam in reply. "Why don't you use your single brain cell to focus on driving the car?"

"That's one more brain cell than you have," Dean said, his irritation spiking. Adam had been nothing but a massive pain since they'd set out, and he wasn't telling why. He'd been pissy ever since he'd come in to wake Sam and Dean, and even pissier after Dean had made them breakfast.

"Okay, how about both of you shut up for the next fifty miles or so?" proposed Sam, looking slightly annoyed as well.

"You stay out of it," responded Dean and Adam in unison, and then glared at each other via the rearview mirror.

Sam huffed and folded his arms as well, staring pointedly outside the window like Adam had been doing until Dean had irked him again. He'd figured it might be a good day for them, for once – he'd even slept well the previous night, unless you counted Dean Winchester the Human Blanket, though even that was okay. Dean had actually refrained from burning anything at breakfast, and both the older Winchesters had been in spiffy moods when they'd gotten into the car, laughing and joking around. Adam had been unusually quiet, but Sam figured he just needed some time to properly wake up.

And then the arguing had begun, and now Sam was seriously debating opening the door and jumping out of the car.

Around half an hour later, during which Dean and Adam didn't shut up for even five damned seconds, Sam said, his tone dull, "We're here."

"We're where?" asked Adam. "I don't see Disneyland anywhere."

"We're not there yet," Sam replied. "We're just checking on Garth and Kevin."

At those names Adam pulled a sour face – he had nothing against them but he hadn't forgotten how Dean had decided that they were his next adoptive family, like he already knew they couldn't keep him forever.

Dean parked the car and they got out, heading towards the old boat. Adam grimaced at the dirt everywhere, and took extra care not to touch anything, not even realizing he was acting exactly like Sam.

"Kevin?" Dean called, knocking on Kevin's door. "We're here!"

Kevin opened it, armed with a large neon-colored water gun. "Dean?" he asked suspiciously.

"It's me," Dean told him.

"That's what any imposter would say," Kevin pointed out, still wary.

Dean sighed. "Fine, do what you have to."

Five minutes later, Adam stood bandaging his arm, which had been cut again for the third time in the same place, and morosely wondered how long it would take him to get dry. Kevin was thorough, but to Adam he came across as slightly paranoid.

"Who's that?" Kevin asked, sitting in his chair and gesturing in Adam's direction.

"That's a new breed of pain-in-the-ass," Dean said before Sam could answer Kevin. Adam stuck out his tongue at him, while Sam glared at both of them.

"That's Adam," he informed Kevin. "Our brother."

Kevin raised an eyebrow. "Your brother?" he asked, looking astonished.

Sam nodded, stepping on Dean's foot to prevent any more instigating comments. "Yeah. Half-brother," he explained. "We found him a few days ago."

"Hi, I'm Kevin Tran, I'm a Prophet of the Lord, and I'm their secretary," Kevin introduced himself, pointing at Sam and Dean as he said the last part.

"And not the hot kind," added Dean, grinning at Kevin, who simply rolled his eyes.

"Where's Garth?" asked Sam.

"I don't know, getting groceries or something," Kevin answered.

"How are you?" Sam asked Kevin. "You all right?"

Kevin sighed. "I'm fine, Sam. Just – translating has been getting harder lately."

"You're not getting enough sleep," Sam told him. "How many hours total, this past week?"

"I don't know, eight?" Kevin answered absently, writing something in his notebook and then scratching it out. "It's hard to keep track."

"Kevin, you can't keep pushing yourself like this," Sam chided. "Get some rest. It's all right, you know."

"No," refuted Kevin. "The sooner I'm done with this, the sooner my mom and I can go back to being normal."

Sam sighed, knowing there was no moving Kevin from his stand. "All right, then," he said. "Just take care. Don't burn yourself out."

Kevin nodded at him, before scrawling something.

"Have you got any food in here?" asked Adam. "I'm starving."

"We just bought you potato chips ten miles back!" Dean said incredulously.

"Yeah, with more air than chips in them," retorted Adam.

Just then the door opened and Garth came in, holding bags of grocery. Setting them down, he said happily, "Whoa, hi there!" Against Dean's protests he hugged him first, and then Sam, before bestowing a hug on Adam as well. "Who's this little kid, here?"

Adam glared. "You can't call me little," he said, eyeing Garth up and down. "Have you seen yourself?"

Garth's smile faltered a little, but before he could cry or something (he certainly looked like he might) Sam said hastily, "Garth, meet Adam, our brother. Adam, Garth."

"Whoa, your brother?" Garth said, like it was a totally unknown concept to him. "Where'd he come from?"

"Our Dad's testicles," Dean answered, and Sam almost choked on his breath.

"Dean!" he said reproachfully. "That's disgusting, oh God." He groaned.

Garth tried not to look put off by the image, either. "Ooooookay," he said, stretching the first syllable. "How's it going, Adam?"

"Peachy," Adam answered. "Fan-fucking-tastic."

"Ignore them," said Kevin, not looking up from the tablet. "They're both on their period today."

Dean and Adam glared small holes in the back of Kevin's head, while Sam tried not to look grossed out by that image either. Garth laughed nervously, because the look on Dean's face was murderous, while Sam shot out I-So-Hate-Everyone-Right-Now-Because-You're-All-Id iots bitchfaces at just about everyone who looked at him.

After an awkward silence, in which Adam proceeded to pillage Garth's grocery bags, Kevin said, "Any news on Crowley, anything?"

"Nope," answered Dean, snatching a beer from Adam and ignoring his protests. "Nothing. He's keeping low."

Kevin nodded absently, and then asked, "And what about your angel?"

"He's fine," Sam answered. "How far along have you gotten?"

"Halfway through with the second trial," Kevin told them. "All I can understand is something to do with Hell."

"Well, that's helpful," muttered Dean, snagging some of Adam's potato chips. Adam socked Dean in the arm, but he just grinned maddeningly at his youngest brother and munched loudly on the chips. Sam shot them both a disdainful glance.

"You guys going somewhere?" asked Garth. "Found any case?"

"Nah, we're taking some time off," Dean told him, reaching for more of Adam's chips. This time the boy was prepared, and he batted Dean's hand away before Dean could get a hold of his precious food.

"Time off?" Garth looked surprised.

"Yeah, Sam's been under the weather lately and we figured some time off might do him good," Dean explained. "So we're off to California."

"California, cool," Kevin said. "I wish I could take some time off."

"Why don't you come with us?" suggested Adam, figuring it'd be nice to have company other than his brothers, and besides, Kevin was a lot closer to him in age than he was to his brothers.

"I can't," Kevin sighed, finally looking up from his notebook. "I want to finish this ASAP. Everything else can come later."

"Suit yourself," said Adam with a shrug, feeling only slightly disappointed. The teenager was moody and work-obsessed anyway, so he probably wouldn't be much fun anyway.

"All right, you two have been fine, right?" asked Dean. "No demons, no strange occurrences around?"

Garth nodded. "Yeah, it's been all right," he said. "I've been working jobs here and there, though nothing that'll keep me away for more than a couple nights."

"That's good," Sam said. "We need to keep Kevin safe."

"I'm not a baby," grumbled Kevin.

"These two will mother-hen you even if you're eighty," Adam told Kevin, who grinned.

"That is not true," Dean said, glaring at Adam, who just grinned back in a very Dean-esque manner, reminding him of his expression some time ago. Dean stuck his tongue out at Adam and resumed gulping down his beer.

"I'm related to apes," lamented Sam.

"At least you get to have your family around," murmured Kevin, writing something.

A silence followed that; no one was sure how to respond. Finally, Dean cleared his throat, and said, "All right, you two seem fine. It's best we get going, then."

"Bye, guys," Kevin said, looking up from his work to bid them goodbye. "Take care."

"You too, Kevin," Sam said.

"See ya, Garth," Dean said, and Garth waved at them.

"So, what do you think of them?" Dean asked Adam once they were back in the car.

"They're all right," Adam said, "but I still don't want to live with them."

"Who said you're going to live with them?" asked Sam, perplexed.

"Dean," Adam answered. "He says if you're not going to make it he's going to hand me over to Kevin and Garth and then go off himself."

"What?" asked Sam, his heart plummeting to his feet. "Dean?" he said questioningly. "Did you really–"

Dean stopped glaring at Adam through the rearview mirror and said, "Yeah, Sam. I did. They're the best people to take him in if the two of us aren't around."

"But you will be!" Sam told him. "You're going to make it, Dean!"

"Not if you aren't," Dean replied, looking determined. Sam opened his mouth to protest, but Dean said, "No, Sam. I'm not going to change my mind. You know you'd do the same thing if it had been the other way round."

Sam remained silent at that, but the angry look didn't get off his face.

"Um, hello?" Adam sounded just as angry as Sam felt. "I'm right here, you know? Did either of you even once consider sticking around for me?"

Sam turned to look at Adam. "Adam, listen to me–"

"Save it, Sam," snapped Adam. "If you can't care enough about me to stay alive, both of you, then maybe I'm better off with Kevin and Garth anyway."

"Adam, we're your brothers," Sam began, his tone gentle.

"Don't give me that," said Adam angrily. "Brothers are there for each other. You can't just abandon me or hand me over to others!"

Dean swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. "All right, Adam," he said, his tone steely. He turned in his seat to look at the surprised boy in the backseat. "What is your problem? You've been a complete ass the entire day and it's beginning to annoy the hell out of me. You either tell us what's up, or you keep your piehole shut, you hear me?"

Adam glared at him, but then Sam said, "Please, Adam. If there's something bothering you just tell us."

"Fine then, I'll tell you what's bothering me," answered Adam. "You guys are just so convinced you're not going to survive these trials. I mean it's like, you're not even trying to think you might make it, but I don't get why. Why won't you consider that maybe you'll survive, and everything doesn't always have to be absolute shit for you two?"

"Adam, everything is always absolute shit for us," Dean began, but Sam interrupted him.

"Because, Adam, these sort of things always end in sacrifice," he explained, his tone soft. "It's always been that way. We can't always make it, the two of us."

"But what if you do, this time?" asked Adam struggling to keep tears out of his voice. "What if it's different, this time?"

There was a pause, and then Dean said, "I won't deny it, that'd be real nice. Only I don't think it's possible, you know? I mean, you saw what it's like for Sam, and that's only after one trial. I don't even want to think what the other two are going to do to him."

"I'll be fine," Sam tried to assure Dean. "It's you I'm worried about."

"I'm not the one doing the trials, Sammy," Dean reminded him. "You're the one we should be worrying about."

"See, that right there," Adam cut in, looking at both of them with annoyance mixed with despair. "You two are so worried about each other you're not seeing what it's doing to yourselves. Sam, you're going to make it, and Dean, so. Are. You."

There was another pause, and then Sam said, "You're scared you'll lose us." It wasn't a question – it was a statement.

Adam nodded. "You two are all I've got," he told them. "I've got nowhere else to go. I can't lose you." He looked away as he wiped at his eyes, shielding his face from them.

"You won't," decided Sam. "I'm fine, Adam. And so is Dean. We're neither of us going anywhere."

Dean didn't look convinced, but he said, "Sam's right, Small Fry. We're sticking around, at least for now."

Adam looked up and nodded at them, figuring it was the best he could get out of them. "Damn straight you are," he told them, "or I'm following you two to Heaven so I can annoy you there."

Sam smiled a little. "There'll be no need for that," he said. "Don't worry, Adam."

"Yeah," added Dean. "It's going to take more than a couple of trials to take us out, eh Sammy?"

Sam nodded. "True."

Adam hadn't realized his back had been tensed until he relaxed it now. "Thank you," he muttered.

"Don't be stupid, Small Fry," Dean said. Then, before the chick-flick moment could progress, he turned the music up and started driving again.

Sam turned to smile at Adam, and then whispered, "He won't admit it, but he's a giant softy."

Adam grinned. "I know," he whispered back. "Mother-hen of biblical proportions."

"I can hear you!" Dean said, but he was fighting a grin as well. "And for the record, I'm not a mother-hen."

"Right, of course you're not," Sam said with a straight face, and Adam laughed as Dean pulled a face.

*pulls face* I DO NOT SEE WHY I HAVE TO GO TO SCHOOL. I'M THE FUCKING CZAR FOR GOD'S SAKE.

That being said, yeah I know this is late-ish, but that's how it's going to be from now on :/ I'm sorry, peasants, but school is taking a lot out of me. Thankfully I've only got a couple days left before my study break starts, but then there's another issue - my A-Level exams start May 7th. And end mid-June. Updates are going to get even more delayed during this time period. I'm really sorry, you guys, but my exam preparations are something I can't ignore, not even for this story, even if it's my baby. *le sigh*

Don't worry, though, I'll try to update as much as I can before exams start. That's a plus, eh, peasants?

In the meanwhile, please don't have any uprisings. That would really suck.

Last chapter I mentioned Percy Jackson - THAT SERIES IS NOW INVADING MY MIND. I FINISHED THE ENTIRE OLYMPIANS SERIES IN THREE DAYS. AND LUKE. LUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKE. JAKE FREAKING ABEL. LUUUUUUKE.

WHYYYYYYYYYY.

Today's question: Other than the guys in Supernatural, which book/movie/TV-show etc. characters kill your feels in a way that makes you wish you'd rather been born a hamster so you wouldn't have to put up with this?

Review :D it makes school and exams more bearable for your beloved Czar a.k.a. me... and reviewers also get to add tomatoes to your 20-acre gardens ^_^ I'm so generous it's unbelievable, yeah? *grins*

-Peace x