"Hey, you with us?" Dean's voice cut through the feverish fog surrounding Sam and he opened his eyes.
Dean's face peered down at him concernedly.
"Dean?" he whispered.
Dean smiled tightly and Sam felt something cold and wet on his brow. Reaching up, his fingers brushed against a cloth.
"It'll bring your fever down," Dean told him.
"Where am I?" Sam asked.
"Camp Chitaqua," his brother replied, "Specifically, the infirmary."
Sam's eyes suddenly grew damp.
"I found you," he muttered.
"Don't talk," Dean replied, "You need to rest."
Sam closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift into unconsciousness, knowing everything would be all right now that he was with Dean.
SPN
Dean stepped out of the infirmary to find Cas and Chuck staring at him.
"What?" he asked.
"I told you he was out there," Cas said.
"Yeah, yeah, you told me so," Dean muttered.
"Aren't you happy?" Cas asked.
"Oh, I'm happy," Dean replied acidly, "I'm fucking ecstatic!"
"No, you're not," Chuck pointed out needlessly, "You don't want Sam here."
Dean narrowed his eyes at the Prophet and then sighed, sitting down on the steps to the infirmary, "It's not that."
"Then what?" Cas asked.
"I'm glad Sam's here, I'm glad he's okay, it's just… We went our separate ways for a reason," Dean explained.
"But it's safe here," Chuck reminded him, "There's salt all around the perimeter of the camp and Enochian sigils painted on the fence so we're invisible to angels."
"You make it sound so simple," Dean muttered.
"It is that simple, Dean," Cas argued, "For months now we've only had to deal with Croats and they rarely ever come out this far."
Dean nodded in silent agreement.
"You're right, Cas," he said and looked up, a smile sitting tentatively on his lips and tears in his eyes, "Sam's back."
Cas smiled back, "Yes, he is."
SPN
"Something's out there," Rick peered through his binoculars at the figure approaching the camp on the road.
"What is it?" Monty asked.
"Human," Rick answered.
"Another survivor?" Monty leaned forward.
Rick didn't reply. He warily watched the woman approach.
"Nah," he answered once the figure was close enough to make out her features, the colour of her eyes belying her nature, "Croat."
Lowering the binoculars, Rick raised his gun and sighted the woman, waiting as she moved even closer to the gate before he fired.
The figure fell backwards as Rick's bullet tore off the top of her head.
"Should we tell Dean?" Monty asked.
"It's just one," Rick replied, "Nothing to worry about."
Author's Note:
Thanks to everyone who is reviewing this story!
