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Chapter 8

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It took a few minutes for Dean to figure out what had woken him, but a muffled groan shook him out of his confusion and he sat upright quickly, looking over to see Bobby checking Sam's temperature. Meeting his eyes, he silently confirmed what Dean already suspected, even as he became aware of the heat radiating off his brother - fever. Damn, Sammy, can't you ever catch a break? He placed a gentle hand on Sam's unwounded shoulder, even as Sam began to mutter. The words were indistinct at first, but here and there he caught a phrase or two…"you can't do this," "you'll never capture him," "let me go!" But it was the whispered, "Help, Dean!" that broke his heart the most, as he knew Sam was reliving his captivity and he hated that he had not been able to rescue him sooner.

"I'm here, Sam. You're safe. You're free." he whispered back, trying to ground his brother and pull him from the grips of the feverish dreams. Bobby brought him ice packs, and they coaxed Sam to swallow pills, but it was still nearly evening before his fever finally broke. Dean looked up from his contemplation of his brother's now peaceful face, and suddenly realized the Rawlings were not in the cabin.

"They went out for some supplies and to make sure we're secure and no one's on our scent." Bobby replied in response to his questioning. Dean nodded, relieved that Sam had not had so many witnesses to his illness.

The sound of a vehicle approaching had them tensing and reaching for weapons. Bobby carefully peered through the window slats, then waved at Dean to stand down. Going to the door, he opened it in time for Vic to sail through with hands full of grocery bags, followed by Hoyt with the unexpected surprise of Mara on his arm!

"Look who we ran into checking herself out AMA!" he cheerfully shared. Despite his boisterous voice, he gently helped her to a seat on the couch that sat in front of the fireplace, then solicitously went to get her a glass of water. Dean smirked as he watched her eyes follow him, realizing with surprise that Hoyt wasn't even aware of his affect on her. Interesting. He thought to himself, gratefully receiving the beer Vic was holding out to him. A shout from the bed had everyone turning to Sam, but Dean was there in a flash. As the others watched, mesmerized, he softly laid a hand on Sam's face, another gently holding his restless arm before he could jostle his shoulder, and in a calming voice whispering softly the mantra he had been saying all afternoon, "I'm here Sam. You're safe. We're safe. Everything is fine." Sam stilled, his face turning into his brother's touch, and relaxed once more into sleep. Giving the brothers some semblance of privacy, Hoyt continued over to sit by Mara, while Vic and Bobby conversed softly in the kitchen.

"Those two have an incredible bond, the likes of which I've never before witnessed." Mara said softly to Hoyt, still in awe of how easily Dean had calmed his brother and how even unconsciously Sam had responded.

"Yeah. I honestly was really jealous of it when I first met them." Hoyt confessed.

"And now?" Mara asked, curiously.

"Well, I really got to know them. Got to see their sacrificial care for everything and everyone around them. And knowing the crazy, painful, hard lives they lead, I'm just really thankful they have each other." Hoyt stared pensively at the fire, surprised he had articulated the thoughts out loud.

"That's really kind of you." He shrugged at Mara's praise, not feeling he deserved it. It had taken him longer than he was proud of to realize that what the Winchesters had was something to be celebrated, not greedy for. She nudged him, interrupting his pensive thoughts, and he looked back at her, smiling. "We didn't like each other when we first met, though that might have something to do with it happening at gunpoint." She grinned back, surprised. "Tell me." So Hoyt dove into the story of his first encounter with the brothers and all that had followed.

Vic glanced at the two groups of people then looked over at Bobby, who was leaning against the counter with a beer. Returning his focus to the stove and the food simmering there, he remarked quietly, "You're close with those boys."

"They're like sons to me." Vic nodded, understanding. Though he hadn't spent much time with them, he had great affection for the men who had helped reunite and reconcile him with his own son.

"I wasn't sure before, but I think they're going to get out of this mess and be ok."

"I just hate that they were in it to begin with." Bobby grimaced, frustrated for his boys that they always seemed to be on the receiving end of painful consequences for good actions. "They are heroes, but life always seems to conspire to beat them down."

"Yet they don't let that stop them. A quality to be admired."

"Indeed. I just wish - " Vic heard the pain in Bobby's unfinished sentence, knowing how hard it was to watch someone you love be hurt, and wishing you could spare them the trials. "At least Sam is going to be ok." Bobby continued, surprising him. "I think that's the most terrifying part. I know if I lose one, I'll lose the other." And I can't lose them.

"Yeah." Vic stilled, thinking through the bonds of friendship and love in the room, and giving thanks that they all seemed to be safe and relatively free of danger for the moment. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he refocused on his task and soon was handing out bowls of chili, a hand on each person's shoulder as he did so, conveying his care and encouragement without words.

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Sam roused slowly, blinking confusedly as he tried to place where he was. Used to consistently waking up in different locations, he wasn't alarmed that he couldn't place his surroundings. Laying still, he zeroed in on the sound that had been his constant source of stability his whole life, his brother's steady breaths from the bed beside him. Confident that wherever they were was safe enough if Dean was actually sleeping, he allowed his senses to lazily stretch further, surprised to hear sounds of others sleeping. Instinctively turning to look, he froze as sharp pains shot from his shoulder throughout his body. He closed his eyes, stifling a groan, but a hand on his good arm told him Dean was as attuned to him as ever, and he was now awake. Rolling his head carefully to the right, he met his brother's worried eyes. "Hey." His voice sounded rough, and he realized how dry his throat was.

"Hey." Dean responded with a smile of relief, then looked past him at the approaching Bobby, who had a glass of water in his hand. "Can I help you sit up a little, so you can have some water?" Sam nodded, and between Dean and Bobby they maneuvered him so he was sitting partially up, resting on pillows against the headboard. He sighed in relief as the cool water soothed his parched throat, and then looked around the room, eyes opening wide in surprise at the other heads now in view in various states of sleepy dishevelment looking back at him.

"Did we have a sleepover?" he mused.

"You're hilarious." Dean retorted, grinning despite his deadpan response. "How are you feeling?"

"Confused. Where are we? How did you get me out?" He thought back to what he could remember last, and grew agitated as he looked to his shoulder then wildly over at Dean, "Henriksen…Dean! He - "

"Whoa, chill man." soothed Hoyt, coming and plopping down at the foot of the bed. "We're safe here. Take a breath, and we'll fill you in."

"Hoyt? What are you…how…when -?" Sam looked over at Dean for affirmation that what Hoyt was saying was true and he nodded.

"We're safe." Sam just shook his head, puzzled, and looked up as Mara and Vic joined the group around the bed.

"How about I make some breakfast," said Vic, "since I somehow became the designated cook, and then we'll fill in all the missing gaps of the story." Sam nodded agreement, even as he winced as the pain from his injuries pushed to the forefront. A hand and some pills appeared in front of him, and he obediently swallowed what he was given.

Breakfast was quickly consumed, and the group lounged around Sam and shared their parts in his rescue. Hoyt and Mara were each playing up their heroics for his amusement, when the cabin door opened. The man in the doorway stopped abruptly as he was faced with multiple weapons trained on him. "Don't shoot!" he laughed, even as he stood stock-still, knowing just what this lethal group was capable of.

"Deacon, you nearly got killed." growled Bobby, flicking the safety back on his weapon.

"Yeah, well…" He stared at Sam, then walked over to the bed. "I'm so sorry kiddo. So very sorry."

"I'm ok Deacon." Sam assured him.

"I got you into this mess…"

"No, our jobs got us into this mess. Henriksen saw what he wanted to see, what the world sees when it looks at us. He just went off the deep end in the process, apparently. This is on him, man, not you." He looked at him earnestly, until Deacon's shoulders finally relaxed as he grudgingly received the absolution Sam was offering.

"I'm glad you're doing ok."

"So what's happening with the situation?" Mara asked, "Are they hunting any of us?"

Deacon smirked. "The FBI is beyond embarrassed that one of their agents went so completely off the rails. I think that investigation will trump any related to your escapes…barring the fact they found Al in the vent and have sealed all those passages, so they won't be an option in the future."

"And Reidy? Is he ok?" Sam asked. He had thought in time the guy might have become an ally, and he hoped he wasn't going to be the scapegoat for the mess.

"He's healing, still at the hospital I think. I'm guessing the fact that he tried to stop Henriksen in the end and was shot for his efforts will shield him from the blowback."

"Hope so." There was a lull in the conversation as everyone contemplated what had taken place and the fallout from it. Sam cleared his throat, and looked up as everyone refocused on him.

"Thank you," he said softly, looking each person in the eye. "You all risked your freedom and your lives for me. I'm so thankful." Everyone, uncomfortable with the thanks, still responded with a quick nod or, in Mara's case, a kiss on the cheek. They continued chatting comfortably about various topics until Dean, keenly aware of all things Sam, saw his blinks becoming longer and more frequent and promptly shooed everyone else away, helping him lay down, ignoring his feeble protests, and laughing softly to himself as Sam succumbed to sleep shortly after.