A week later they found themselves a case. A salt-and-burn and god how he's missed them. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun on the job. Having his little brother with him, and not the broody, hurt and silent version, but his normal sassy and fond one, and none of the shit that caused problems between them, none of the resentment and anger, and Dean's life was practically perfect.

Well, not quite, because they still the problem of Kevin and occasionally Sam would regress and worry himself into nightmares, but mostly it was really great. They both made an effort and the results were amazing. Take that one time when Sam's sleep was disturbed by a Cage memory. He'd been so distraught and, god, pale and shaking in his bed, gasping for breath, Dean's heart broke. They ended up sleeping together that night, in one too small bed, back to back and so close. Sam, who'd been freezing when he climbed next to Dean, warmed quickly and slept like a baby for the rest of the night. Dean watched over him for a while before he surrendered to sleep as well.

They didn't talk about it, because awkward, but it was a testament to how far they came and despite Sam's returning propensity for "chick flicks" Dean was just content with his life.

Up until the ghost they were hunting broke Sam's ribs, throwing him into a pile of ruble - down two flights of stairs in the abandoned ruins of a mansion.

Sam tried to be brave but Dean called bullshit and took him to the hospital to have his chest x-rayed just in case. Sam insisted he was fine and they could take care of it themselves but he was wheezing pathetically and painfully and Dean just didn't want to take any chances.

So they were forced to take a break again. Sam was fine with it, spending days sleeping, reading books and working on his computer, as well as eating whatever Dean gave him (and protesting the amount). Dean was surprisingly okay with it too as he cared for Sammy (as much as Sammy let him) and relaxed, pushing his restlessness to the back of his mind but nonetheless wishing something would happen.

Be careful what you wish for flitted through his shocked mind as he and Sam took in the blazing fire consuming their motel. They had went for a library-grocery-laundry run because they both needed a break from the monotony of their surroundings.

A second later Sam was out of the car and racing - racing! With his injuries! - into their room. Dean was two seconds of complete shock behind him, hissing as he felt the scorching hot flames entirely too close for comfort. Pushing awful memories away to focus on here and now, he located Sam, who appeared to only now comprehend his situation, with his duffel bag securely in his grip and eyes wide open in horror and rapidly loosing focus, and hauled him out, tearing him from the flames for the third and hopefully last time in his life.

They left the Impala running sufficiently far from the fire and smoke, and Dean dragged Sam right up to it, pushing him into her shining black side. "What the fuck was that, Sam?!" he roared into his brother's pale face. "What were you thinking!? No, you weren't thinking! Running into a burning fucking building for your bag?! There's nothing there that can't be replaced and you risked your life to get it! While injured!" he ranted furiously checking Sam over.

The kid was once again having problems with breathing, panting and gasping for breath, wheezing, his face twisted in pain; his ribs must have been vocally thanking him for the treatment. He was heavily leaning on the car and trembling but the when Dean went to take the stupid duffel from him he wouldn't let it go, clutching it in a death grip.

"Sam!" Dean's anger was pushed to the side lines as his concern grew. "Sam, come on, I gotta take you back to the hospital." he said urgently but Sam shook his head in denial. "Don't be stupid, Sam, you can't breathe!"

" 'S okay, jus' gimme a sec," he panted. "Gotta catch m'breath. Don' need a hosp'tal tho'." he insisted.

Dean pursed his lips but relented. Sam's breathing did seem to get easier though he was still pale and visibly in pain. "Wanna sit?" he asked.

Sam nodded his shaggy head so Dean opened the passenger door and helped Sam fold himself to fit inside. Sam fell on the seat, bringing his duffel up to lay it on his knees, relaxing a little.

Dean's brow furrowed. "What the hell's so important in that duffel that you couldn't leave it there?" he asked curiously.

Sam's lips twisted in a grimace. "I- it's-… I guess I can as well do it now." he said enigmatically, starting to rummage through the bag's contents until he found a small box. He held it in his hands, staring at it for a while and then he took a deep breath and held the box out to Dean, who took it carefully and lifted the lid. Inside was a little pouch nestled in a sea of cotton for protection.

Dean lifted one eyebrow at the amount of wrappings and took the pouch out, laying the box on Sam's duffel and carefully undid the knot holding the pouch closed, upending it on his hand, hearing Sam's breath catch in his throat.

His own breath stopped as a familiar weight fell on his palm, the amulet's polished edges gleaming in the sun and flickering flames behind his back. He looked to Sam, whose gaze was focused solely on the pendant. "How?" he asked, surprised at how raspy his voice sounded.

"I took it out of the trash. Kept it. Hoped." Sam said lowly. "You don't have to take it-" he started assuring Dean but the older hunter only snorted, putting the necklace back on quickly, instantly feeling better, more complete as it settled on his chest.

Sam swallowed noisily, but a brilliant smile bloomed on his face before his eyes widened and he started talking so fast Dean barely understood. "Dean, that wasn't my Heaven, what you saw; that wasn't our real Heaven. Back then you wouldn't talk to me but I spoke with Cas and he agreed that Zachariah must have manipulated it 'cause those were nice memories but they weren't the best, an' it was like they were specifically chosen - yours to hurt me and mine to hurt you an'-" he sucked in a deep breath, flinching, and went to explain more but Dean put a hand on his shoulder, silencing him, blinking tears back from his eyes.

"I get it Sammy, it's okay now, it's all good. Take it easy." he said through clenched throat as Sam panted with a hopeful look in his eyes. "And I'm sorry for doing that to you, for getting rid of the amulet like that. Not a day went by that I didn't regret it." Dean admitted and Sammy lit up like a Christmas tree. "Thanks for keeping it for me, little brother."

/txtbreak/

Okay so the idea of a burning motel was shamelessly borrowed from ratherastory on AO3. I hope you don't mind 'cause it was a great story and a great inspiration and you should read it since it's awesome amulet!fix as well.

So, that's it! Thanks for reading and reviewing :)