8

Of course Dean wouldn't actually walk into that restaurant. He just watched from afar. After taking care of a robbery, solo, it was inevitable that Sam should find himself being in the spotlight from all walks of life, and in all likelihood including those from the criminal classes. He'll never be able to quit the bad habit of worrying for Sammy as long as he's alive, thought Dean.

The engagement ceremony would take place in about an hour, Dean decided to get a burger to help him through it, he had never been to a similar occasion so who knows how much long he needs to stay in his car.

As he approached the car biting into his calorie-laden burger, a sense of foreboding swept through his body. But he had already gotten too close. He was surrounded.

He threw away his burger and lifted his arm to block the officers coming at him, and it was then he realized just how serious his injury was. The whole right side of his body hurt and he suspected he might be bleeding again

Cuffs closed around his wrists.

Dean said: "Fuuuuuck."

Henriksen said: "I'm happy to see you too, Mr. Smith."

Here's what happened: the NYPD couldn't explain why an innocent Dean Smith would appear inside a house with two mysterious deaths, they held him for a whole 48 hours without finding any evidence that could link him directly to tho two cases. But the police obtained Dean's blood sample before they released him because Dean was just a big dribbling pack of blood walking around that day, and his blood matched those found on the scene of the Fifth Avenue robbery case. The result being he was reasonably speculated as a suspect and arrested at the scene for intended revenge against Sam Wesson.

Dean was locked up in the interrogation room.

The police gave him the Miranda warning, Dean told them fuck.

Dean acted like a total asshole, he seemed well-adjusted to the police station and answered all of Henriksen's questions with more questions, so by the time he found out that Henriksen had kisses a Miami girl selling orange soda when he was sixteen his opponent hadn't even a clue what his last name was. Two hours later Henriksen left in a rage, hiding his frustration.

Dean knew he should observe his surroundings and find a way out of here, but what he was really thinking was that this is a damn honest reason to escape Sam's engagement, it would be the ideal excuse when he confronts himself the next time to say, come on, I was occupied. So that he wouldn't have to force himself to watch as Sam enters the next phase of his life and leaves him behind completely. He wanted rest, and although sense forbade him to seek it intentionally, the fact remained that he was exhausted and was already broken down to the last piece ages ago, he was just constantly looking for a refuge instead of a place to return to.

Few years in prison wouldn't look that bad if he could manage it, to spread his hands and admit that not only was he enable to save the world, he was finally expelled from his position as Sam's guardian. Just embrace failure lazily like that, pretending not to care and say: Dean Winchester's efforts end here because I'm far less important than I insisted. He was now seriously considering the possibility of admitting to this robbery, he wasn't familiar with the law, how many years of peaceful vacation could it get him? If Sammy was here he'd have the answer for him in two seconds.

Oh, Sammy.

See, whatever he tries to think about, his thoughts always find their way back to Sammy in the end.

Dean leaned back against the back of his chair and waited for Henriksen to come back, this time he wouldn't act like that much of an asshole.

The door opened and Henriksen showed up with a long face, pointing his chin at him. He was showing him to someone.

Dean hadn't had the time to react, he still got that i-couldn't-care-less smile on his face as he looked at the frustrated detective.

Henriksen told Dean: "Your lawyer."

Dean said: "I don't have a lawyer."

Sam walked in: "Hello, Dean ... Smith."

Sam had this feeling. He rushed out as the first police car roared out of his sight, grabbed the nearest officer and asked him what happened. He was emotional, the officer consoled him by saying that the police's no stranger to this kind of thing, the dangerous man in the picture has now been arrested and his safety is now in the hands of the Federal Government. The police said: "Mr. Wesson, everything will be fine, we're here. Your shaking, Mr. Wesson, are you alright?"

Sam couldn't remember how he got back to the hotel, how he told Amelia he was going out for a while, how he finally managed to disengage himself from the grip of friends and jumped into the Impala like a madman. It was instinct that supported him to pull through all these, while his brain and his whole heart was struck by that face in the photograph. He drove towards the police station and the whole world became incredibly clear, he was able to judge the roads conditions swiftly and drive fast and steady like a calm empty shell, while another part of him was torn apart and put back together again. His soul was crushed by the Impala over and over again, the Impala that Dean drove, it went from his toes to the top of his head, grinding over and over again, never tired, shattering every last piece of his bone, causing him to die a thousand times on this not-so-long journey.

He got out of the car, his hands and feet were ice-cold. He was linked in every way to this case setting aside the fact that he was the one the police was protecting this morning. The brave hero got his round of applause from police officers and it was all to easy for him to get the files on Dean. Dean Smith, as was written under the name section.

Henriksen was quite down: "He was very uncooperative."

Sam's brows were knitted as he looked at him through the one-way glass and everyone could sense that a storm was building up inside this elite lawyer, someone had pissed him off and now he's standing there almost overwhelmed by rage, or at least that was what it looked like. Henriksen could relate to that, he tapped the reflection of Dean's face on the glass with his fingers: "He's a real jerk."

Sam said: "Mind if I stay here and look at ...look at the files?"

"No problem."

Finally Sam got some peace. He looked at Dean on the other side of the glass. It really is Dean. He tried to draw in a breath and let it out again, good, he can breathe, now he needed to remind himself in order to remember breathing. He raised his hand, his fingertip touched the glass with great care as he gently traced that small patch of Dean's face. Five years, it's been five years, without Dean, what kind life has he lived for five years. But he also felt that five years was not that long, he pulled through didn't he, it didn't kill him, he thought he'd have to endure longer years before he was allowed to see Dean again, Heaven or Hell, no matter which one it would be, he was going to meet his brother.

Sam gathered his courage and followed Henriksen into the room where Dean was.

Dean still got that casual smile on his face.

Sam greeted him and closed the door behind him. Naturally Dean looked to him, and in an instant Dean's pupils was visibly seen to shrink, like he had seen some extraordinary light.

Sam could do nothing but to stay right where he was. That moment it felt like thousands of oncoming arrows had pierced through his body, or a gust of icy wind with tiny grains of ice hand blown into and filled his coat and nailed him to the ground just like that. When he prayed day and night he never thought all these would come true, he never even imagined meeting Dean again. His greatest wish was simply for Dean to rest in peace.

He thought he believed in a god who had perished, but now his god had come before him.

Sam widened his eyes, his brows raised, he tilted his head, his hands kept loosening and then clenching tight again.

He seemed marveled by some grand spectacle, his nostrils flaring almost invisibly as if he would fell apart at a slight blow of breath. He stared at him without a blink and gave such a piteous, timid, messy, blessed smile. His upper eyelids turned slightly pink, which made Dean want to hold him tightly in his arms.

Dean smiled for real, he smiled so sincerely and with all his heart, he didn't mean to smile a smile so airily. There were five years between them plus a fiancee and hell-of-a purgatory, he should have put on a grave face and get ready for the second departure staring at them in the face. But screw them, Dean smiled, his ears lifted with joy, he said: "Hiya, Sammy."

Sam saw the tears rapidly accumulating in Dean's eyes, he couldn't help but come closer to his brother.

And that's the end of chapter 2 in the original work.

Also guys, I'm sorry this section is posted a bit late today, but when I'm translating I just couldn't seem to satisfy myself and present to you the poetic beauty of the original work as much as I want to, but believe me I've tried my best... Especially in the scenes where the brothers finally reunited, I've been working on that even when I was translating the previous chapters but I dunno, I just can't seem to get that exact "vibe" if you know what I mean [cry] sorry...