Chapter 11 ~ Take Me Home

They had barely any food at the house and Rufus wasn't back yet, so Dean had made a run for supplies. Bobby's house was comfortable, but sometimes he needed to get out. And since Sam was seeming to do better every day - damn it, this morning he had talked, really talked to him, said "Goodbye, Dean" and "I love you, big brother", more than Dean had thought he would ever hear again. It was special, this day was special, and a part of him wanted to celebrate.

But then again... The words his little brother had picked for his real first words were majorly odd. A slightly uncomfortable feeling began to build in Dean's gut. The way Sam had said the words was just... weird. Dean couldn't put his finger on it, but he let it run on a never-ending loop in his mind as he shopped, muttering about it to himself the whole drive back.

Dean skipped the gas station. There was enough in the tank to get back to Bobby's, and his gut was telling him now to hurry.

At Bobby's house, Dean's slammed on the breaks and hurried inside, banging the front door open as he entered.

"Dean?" Bobby asked, confused. "Something wrong?"

The older Winchester panted out, "Where's Sam?"

"He came downstairs about an hour ago. Said he wanted to go outside and take a walk in the yard. Why?" As Bobby spoke, the former hunter realized something was off. Sam hadn't ever left the house since he woken up after the attack, but today... today the kid had been different. He was smiling in a way he hadn't in the past weeks, at least not that Bobby could remember. And then there was the calm, "Thank you... for everything" out of Sam's mouth as he'd pulled the old man into a bear hug...

"You don't think-" Bobby swallowed, growing pale. "He wouldn't..."

"How long has he been gone?" Dean asked.

Bobby took a look at his watch before he answered, "About forty-five minutes..."

With a curse, Dean ran outside again. The yard was big. No, scratch that, it was huge and his brother could be anywhere, doing anything...

He should've known something was wrong. It wasn't normal for Sam to have improved so much seemingly overnight. Or... had Sam improved because he was planning to do this?

No time to think about that now; Dean could torture himself over it later if he didn't find his little brother in time. A part of him still hoped he was wrong, that Sam was only out for a walk. But Dean honestly doubted that, considering the way Sam had been clinging to him and refusing to follow his big brother outside - not to mention the panic attacks the kid had when Dean went outside without telling him.

"What are we looking for?" Bobby asked, rolling up beside Dean in the middle of the junkyard.

"Anything." Dean swallowed hard. "Anything that's not normal. Sam ain't stupid, Bobby. If he wanted to do something like that, he'd make it clever. That's why he waited until I left for a supply run." The knot in his throat grew with every second wasted.

Then... Dean listened hard. Tried to ignore the birds and the cold wind whistling through the car wrecks. Was that music?

Damn it, Dean knew the song. It was the one that played on the radio during that first hunt after their reunion four years ago - "Rambling Man." Dean would recognize it at anywhere.

The older Winchester decided that now was the time to panic, because he knew what that meant. He knew why Sam had been different and calmer the past few days. He'd been planning this.

It was Sam's way of saying farewell to him.

"Bobby?" Dean whispered, "You hear that?"

"That song?" Bobby whispered back.

Dean frowned. "Where's the last car you brought in here that still has a working battery?"

"An old Chevy truck. It's around the next car block. Still had its battery and everything."

There it was, just like Bobby had said. The truck was in the front row, topped by an old Buick.

The music was coming from there, definitely. Dean's eyes narrowed as he recognized angel banishing sigils and other symbols painted on the outside and windows of the truck. Without hesitating, he tried to open the door on the driver seat where Sam sat. The younger Winchester looked unconscious and pale - deadly pale...

The door wouldn't open; Sam had locked himself inside the vehicle. Through the window, Dean could see a pill bottle and a water bottle on the passenger's seat... and blood.

Blood everywhere.

It was covering his brother's lower arms, his clothes and the truck. He'd cut his wrists open, and there was still blood seeping out of the wounds.

He couldn't be too late... he wouldn't lose his little brother like this. Never.

"Cas!" Dean screamed, looking around for something heavy and big. "Cas, damn it!" He found a metal pipe a couple of feet away.

"What the hell are you doing, boy?" Bobby tried to stop him verbally. "You'll hurt him!"

Dean didn't listen. He didn't have time to come up with another plan. Glass shattered under the blow, and Dean threw the pipe away immediately.

Castiel arrived a couple of feet away from the car. It took him just a split second to figure out what was going on. He waited until Dean had unlocked the car from the inside and slammed the door open.

The older Winchester pressed his fingers to Sam's neck, frantically searching for a pulse. Seconds that seemed like eons elapsed until he felt a weak, unsteady thump under his fingers.

Dean laid his other hand on Sam's cheek. He shuddered with the cold of Sam's skin and his shallow, nearly unnoticeable breaths. "Damn it, Sam!" he cursed, eying the gashes that ran from Sam's elbows to his wrists.

This couldn't be happening. Everything had seemed okay with the kid lately. This just couldn't be happening.

For a moment, the older Winchester couldn't move. He knelt there, frozen, shocked to death, watching his little brother die.

"Let me handle this." Castiel's voice cut through Dean's racing thoughts. Then the angel stepped closer and pulled Dean aside so he could lay a hand on Sam's forehead. Within seconds, the cuts healed up until just the blood remained on the skin.

"I'll take him inside." Cas and Dean's brother vanished with a fluttering noise.

Dean still knelt on the cold ground, shivering. His breath hitched in a sob as he realized what the angel had said. It took him a couple of minutes more to understand what had just happened, what his little brother had done.

...what he had done to himself...

"Rambling Man" still played in the background as Dean got to his feet. As soon as Sam was back among the conscious, he was going to kick the hell out of him no matter what shape he was in. He'd beat him up, he thought, and then call Cas to fix him just so he could beat him up a second time, for what he'd just tried to do.

"We should go inside." Bobby sounded calm, but worried, and mostly shocked at the thought of how fast it could've been over. Sam dead and Dean broken... He would've lost both of his boys; he was sure that Dean wouldn't have been able to get over it. Sam dying on a hunt was much more comforting than Sam dying because of a curse or whatever had caused him to do this.

Or, worst of all, if there was no curse. If Sam had simply tried to kill himself just because he wanted to die.

Back in the house...

Dean hurried upstairs - Castiel obviously hadn't put Sam on the living room couch - and found them in the bedroom they'd been sharing.

The angel was sitting on the bed furthest from the door, watching the youngest Winchester. Sam was unconscious, still pale, still covered in his own blood. More worrisome was the fact that he was still out for the count... although Dean figured that last one wasn't such a bad thing, since he probably would've already started yelling at Sam for even thinking about doing this.

Castiel looked up and fixed on Dean's gaze, deep blue eyes meeting Dean's emerald green ones. "I can't bring him back."

"What do you mean, you can't bring him back?" Dean took a deep breath. "You're a freaking angel, Cas. Sure you can!"

Castiel sighed and stood up to face the older Winchester, reminding him that he was indeed an angel of the Lord. He might be disconnected from heaven, but he was still an angel, and should be addressed with respect. Castiel knew Dean, knew why he was talking the way he was, but sometimes Cas had to make his point clear. Although, given the circumstances, he would forgive the human for being rude.

"I can't heal him, Dean, because he doesn't want to be healed." Castiel stepped closer. "I'm sorry."

"What?" Dean looked in those deep blue eyes questioningly. "Can't you do anything?"

"You know my powers are limited - now even more, since I am disconnected from heaven. It's in Sam's own hands now." Castiel pressed his lips together. He'd seen a thousand times how hard it was for humans to lose someone they loved, even if he still didn't understand it properly.

"I am sorry I cannot do more for you both. I will not go until he has made his decision." Castiel sat down on the other bed and renewed his watch over Sam.

Dean's gaze fell on his brother. Sam looked like he was fast asleep, his clothes still soaked through with his own blood. He was pale, but his breathing was strong.

"There's nothing to decide," Dean snarled. "He's alive, isn't he? He's supposed to wake up, Cas."

The angel looked up. "I'm referring to thethings I've seen in his mind, Dean. It's more complex than you think - I can't explain it to you. Your knowledge is too small to even understand a glimpse of it."

"Try." Dean stepped closer to Sam's bed. He wanted to sit there - to brush back the sweat-soaked bangs of his brother's face, to hold him and beg him to come back, to say that they would fix this somehow, that no matter what, they would fix this together... But he couldn't. He just couldn't hold him and tell him that. Not after Sam had decided to leave him alone in this world full of monsters, and much worse - humans.

"What did you see in that geek brain of his?"

Castiel sighed. "I told you." He looked up at the older Winchester. "I can't explain it to-"

Then the angel's gaze sharpened, and he jumped up from his seat. "But - I can show you."

Before Dean knew what had happened, he found himself in front of Bobby's house, the angel at his side. It was night, darkest night. There was just enough illumination to make out the house, the veranda and a silhouette that was probably the entrance.

"Where the hell are we, Cas?" Dean tore his glance away from the house to Castiel.

"This is where Sam is," Castiel answered lowly.

"This?" Dean swallowed. Yeah, it was still Bobby's house, but what was with the darkness? Was this how Sam felt every day? Was this where Sam went when he zoned out of everything? Was this the place where he felt safer than in the world out there?

Dean's stomach turned upside down. He had to close his eyes for a moment before nausea overtook him.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, to steady him. "Try the basement," Cas said. "I think that's where he is."

Castiel let go of his friend's shoulder. "Aren't you comin'?" Dean asked, taking another look at the house.

Castiel shook his head. "I don't think Sam would be comfortable with that." He looked over at his human friend. "I will wait here."

Dean nodded and took a deep breath.