Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses
And all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again

*

Dean's cell phone rings and he snatches it up, "Yeah?"

His eyes close in frustration, "Damn it, Bobby. It's been three fucking days! He can't have disappeared off the face of the earth!"

The voice on the other end murmurs and Dean growls back in reply, "Don't you think I know how good a hunter he is? He's my brother! I know if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be!"

Dean listens and nods, pinching the bridge of his nose against the headache that's been his constant companion since Sam vanished, "I'm sorry, Bobby, I know it's not your fault. I'm just worried, is all. Sam didn't just go off alone, I'm sure of it. He'da told me where he was going and what he was doing."

He falls silent as the voice on the other end mutters in his ear and then he shrugs, "Yeah, you're probably right. He's most likely trying to find a way to kill Lillith, which makes me even more worried. Just, yeah, let me know if you hear anything, ok? I will. Thanks, Bobby."

Dean hangs up the phone, pacing the room frantically. He hasn't told Bobby anything other than Sam was gone and left his cell phone, his duffle and all his belongings behind. Dean found the keys to Ruby's car in Sam's jacket pocket and sees the car still parked outside where Sam left it.

Seems like a lifetime ago.

Where the hell are you, Sammy? The pit of foreboding chewing away at his gut makes him nauseous and dizzy, and he tries to push the fear away so he can focus on the problem, finding his brother.

The sound of his cell phone reaches his ears and he grabs it on the first ring, "Bobby?"

"Dean."

Dean frowns at the sound of a woman's voice, soft and sensual, "Yeah? Who's this?"

"Aw, you don't remember me? After we spent so much time together and I had such fun playing with you…" the voice says petulantly.

And Dean closes his eyes against the memory, "Lillith…"

"You do remember! Oh, goody! And Dean, you'll be happy to know that I'm not even going to hold it against you that you stabbed me the last time we saw each other."

"You threw me into a wall and broke my fucking nose, bitch!"

"Hey, I won't hold a grudge if you won't. Now, I really didn't call just to rehash old times. I need to talk to you."

"Yeah, what about?"

"I've got Sam."

His heart stops and he feels all the blood rush out of his head, leaving him dizzy and breathless. The room is cold, dead silent, all the air sucked out in the vacuum of Lillith's words and he can't speak with the rage that washes over him and fills his soul.

Breathe, breathe

He closes his eyes for a moment, feeling like he's running at a thousand miles an hour, willing himself to find the reins and pull himself back, to get control so he can find Sam, save Sam. Finally, Dean hears a voice, low and hate-filled, work its way out of his throat, "If you hurt him, you bitch, I'll kill you. Do you understand me? You'll be dead."

"Now Dean, that's not very nice. Whether he gets hurt any more is up to you."

"What do you mean 'hurt any more'?"

"Well, he's still alive, Dean. That's about all I can tell you right now. I really have lost control over my silly employees, they just won't stop slicing and stabbing into poor Sam no matter what I say."

Dean grips the phone so hard, he's sure it'll break in two as he spits out the words, "You listen to me. If you hurt him, there's nowhere you'll be able to hide on earth or in hell that I won't find you, that I won't hunt you down and make you wish you'd never laid eyes on me or my brother, you hear me, you skank?"

"Oh, Dean, don't get your panties in a twist! Your main squeeze is still alive…"

Dean goes silent, heart leaping in his chest at her words, "What are you-?"

Lillith continues, "What, do you think I'm stupid, Dean? That I don't know what you two do in the dark all alone? Sam didn't get those love nips all over his neck from his pillow, now did he?"

She knows. Dean can barely speak, his heart trip-hammering in his chest, "What do you want from us?"

"I want that knife you stuck in my back, you want Sam. Even trade – the demon blade for your bitch."

"Why don't I trust you to keep your part of the deal?"

"You have no choice if you want Sam back. That knife is your only weapon against me and I want it. Now."

"How do I know you really have him? I need some proof before I walk into a demon playground."

"Dean, always so trusting…" and her voice sounds muffled as she talks to someone on her end, "Bring him."

"Dean!" Sam's voice is weak, gasping his name, "It's a trap! Don't listen! Don't come he-" his words are abruptly cut off and he hears Sam scream in pain.

"Sammy!" Dean hits his fist against the table, once and then again, at his own helplessness, "Shit!"

Lillith's voice comes back on the phone, "Bring the knife to the corner of Fifth and Elm in twenty minutes. Come alone or your bitch dies."

"You fucking-" Dean is left talking to a dial tone. He hangs up and immediately calls Bobby.

*

Drip drip.

Sam opens his eyes, groaning against the ache in his head, his body throbbing with sharp burning pain, hurting everywhere. He lifts his head to look around, his brain feeling slow and rusty, shadows in the room making it hard to see.

He's naked, tied to a table but sees with relief that he's still got all his parts, even though much of his flesh is either scabbed or crusted with dried blood. Salt covers most of the wounds, the pain of it searing through him even now and his muscles clench against the agony that's humming through his body. His chest and stomach are the worst, thick slices of flesh taken out by the demons that have been torturing him for days now, laughing as they cut away at him, as he screams in anguish.

He's going to kill each and every one of them.

Drip drip

Sam was tied upright before, he remembers, right before he lost consciousness. His last thought had been of fear and Dean and fear for Dean. He thought he remembered hearing Dean's voice but can't be sure. His mind is foggy, sluggish, his dreams and awakes meshing together into a jumble of incoherent thoughts. Sam's not sure but he thinks they're drugging him, a cobweb of a memory jutting forward, a hypodermic jabbing into his skin but the flash in his mind is gone quickly and his thoughts are slow, too slow.

Drip

What the fuck is that noise? He tilts his head back, trying to pinpoint the wet sound and sees it, pinned up on the wall behind him, the gore of it making him close his eyes so he doesn't have to see it anymore.

One of the demons had taken a liking to him, refusing to cut into him like the others but instead had watched the torture, coming to him later to sew up his cuts so the others could slice him open again and again. She hadn't been a demon long, Sam could tell, because she showed mercy, even kindness when she carefully stitched and dressed his wounds.

Now, she was splayed on the wall behind him, arms and legs bent and broken, sliced and gutted, her insides hanging out and dripping onto the floor, the puddle of blood beneath her pooling out in a wide circle.

A voice reaches his ears, "She was an example, Sam. Show a Winchester mercy and you die. Had to be done."

Lillith.

She's riding a teenage girl now, with pimples and braces and she gives him a sweet smile as she walks over to him and stares down at his body, running a fingernail up along his leg and over his hip bone to circle around his belly button. His tormented skin twitches against her touch and she slices open some of the cuts that have clotted, bringing fresh blood to the surface. Grinning at him, she picks up a salt shaker and slowly taps some of it into the open wounds, watching his face with eager anticipation.

His back arches up in pain, straining against the ropes that bind him to the table, and a deep groan wrenches out of him but he grits his teeth against it, stubbornly refusing to cry out. He won't give her the fucking satisfaction, he decides, as his body trembles in reaction to the salt burning a trail of fire inside him. He's rewarded with a disappointed sigh from Lillith.

Sam stares up at her with hate-filled eyes, his voice a hiss in the air, "You bitch! When I get free…"

"You'll do what? You're so high right now, you couldn't kill a fly. So when Dean comes to save you, the only thing you're going to be able to do is watch him scream when I kill him nice and slow." She strokes the bruises on his jaw, "I hope you enjoyed getting these love marks, Sam, because your boyfriend won't be alive to do this to you anymore."

Her head tilts suddenly to one side and she listens intently. Then she claps her hands together, bends down to Sam's ear, and whispers with glee, "He's here! Oh, this is going to be so much fun!"

Sam begins to holler in a desperate attempt to save his brother, "Dean! Get out of here! Run!"

*

Dean eases around the corner of the building, peeking in the grime-covered window at the deserted warehouse within. He looks around for a second, sees no one within earshot and jabs an elbow through the window, crashing the glass. He sweeps his arm around it, clearing the shards away, leather jacket thick enough so he doesn't get cut, and grabs the upper edge of the window, scooting his body up and in, lowering himself onto the dusty floor, the glass crunching underfoot.

He crouches low, listening to the silence and hears a dripping noise from somewhere to the left. He scans the room, sees the edge of a door through the dim light, and slides over to it, panther-like, quiet and sure in the dark. Easing it open, he peers inside and sees Sam, gagged, naked and sprawled out on a table, his body covered with still-bleeding slashes, struggling against the ropes that hold him down.

His eyes scan the room, taking in the corpse pinned to the wall over his brother's head with no reaction, checking each dark corner, each crevice for a crouching enemy. Nothing.

Dean slides into the room on quiet feet, close to the wall, on the alert as he inches closer to Sam. He drops down low and makes his move, going quickly to Sam's side, yanking off the gag and untying the ropes around his wrists, his fingers working fast, whispering, "Sam?"

Sam's eyes look unfocused, panicked as he trips over the words he's trying to get out of his numb lips, "Dean? Dean! Trap! Go, go now!"

And Dean is ripped away from him, thrown against the wall with a bone-jarring thud and pinned there, groaning in pain.

A disjointed giggle reaches his ears and he's pulled away from the wall and thrown back into it again, agony shooting up through his spine as he hits hard.

A shadow detaches itself from the wall and comes towards him, "Where's my knife?"

Dean grunts out, "Somewhere safe."

"Tsk, tsk…Dean…you don't seem to understand. There is nowhere safe."

Against his will, Dean's arm raises up, moving away from the wall, palm out, straight out in front of him. His fingers spread on their own accord and, as Sam and Dean watch, his pinky finger twists and snaps, breaking in half.

Dimly, he hears Sam's voice, "Dean!" and a white-hot streak shoots through his hand and arm and he's yelling something but he doesn't know what, can barely think through the smeared pain in his head and he's breathing through it, huffing in and out, chest heaving and the pain calms down to a nauseating throb.

Dean's head falls back against the wall, his lip bloodied from him biting it and his hand drops down without his consent, hitting against the plaster with a bang, yanking a moan out of him at the bright agony that flares in him again.

Lillith smiles at him, "Now, let me ask again. Where's my knife?"

Dean takes in a deep gasp of air, pulling strength from deep within him and he spits out the words at her, through his shaking muscles, "Fuck you!"

Lillith flicks a glance at Sam and shrugs, "I see you got the brains in the family."

She turns back to Dean, crooking a finger at him and his arm twitches and moves, the pinky swelling fast, hand rising up again but stopping in mid-air in front of Dean's face. He slants his eyes at Lillith and sees her struggling against something, her body trembling with strain as she tries to keep control and then Dean hears the low voice, chanting out the exorcism ritual, the calm monotone never wavering.

Bobby walks into the room, holy water splashing in a wide arc around him, giving himself a safe circle of light, punctuating the Latin words falling from his lips, backing Lillith up against the wall and holding her there.

Dean falls to the ground, free from the demon's grip, and jumps up, snatching the knife out of the back of Bobby's pants, slashing through Sam's ropes while Bobby works the spell, pinning Lillith to the wall, giving Dean precious minutes to save Sam. He grabs Sam's clothes and pulls his brother up, draping his arm over Dean's shoulders as he half-carries, half-drags the lanky form to the door.

Bobby meets Dean there, trying to pry open the heavy door when the voices murmur around them and Dean turns, seeing demons, counting at least ten of the evil bastards surrounding them, eyes black and shining, advancing on them slowly.

Dean shoves Sam behind him to the floor, protecting him, brandishing the knife, swinging it from side to side while Bobby splashes holy water in a constant arc, using it as a shield. The demons rush them and Bobby and Dean know they won't survive this fight because it's too many against too few and they barely have weapons, so it's just a matter of time before they're captured and killed but they gear up to take as many evil sons of bitches out as possible before they bite it…

Suddenly, the evil figures stop dead, mid-flight, and Bobby and Dean exchange confused looks, not sure what just happened but grateful for the extra minute of life.

Behind Dean, Sam straightens up to his full height, beautiful and torn in his nakedness, his eyes glittering with a rush of power that comes from his gut, turns around and stands, arms outstretched and before Dean or Bobby can do more then blink, the black smoke is pumping out of the demons, all at once, being ripped out of their bodies by the smoldering strength in Sam.

Dean can feel it in the air, pulsing from Sam's body, the electricity shimmering, surrounding his brother and he falls back with a cry, away from Sam, the hair on Dean's arms standing upright and feeling like he was just hit by the edge of a bolt of lightening.

Dean sees Bobby, the same shell-shocked expression on his face, staring at Sam like he's looking at the devil himself. The demon smoke is still swirling around them and Sam reaches out a fist, clenching tight, and the plumes of smoke join together into one funnel cloud, spiraling into the center with a burst of flame, a ring of fire burning and then quietly expiring, leaving sparks winking harmlessly back at them.

The bodies fall to the ground and when Dean shoots a look back at Lillith, her meat suit is also laying empty and useless on the floor.

Dean backs up away from Sam, eyes huge and conflicted, love and fear warring for first place in his gaze, in his mind, and he whispers, "Lillith?"

Sam is breathing harshly, body racked with spasms as he unconsciously fights against the huge power that's within him. He hears Dean's whisper through the red cloak that's covering his brain and he pulls in huge whoops of air, shaking his head to clear it and finally, he's back and Sam again, looking over at Lillith's body and giving Dean a fearful look, "I don't know."

"What the hell was that, Sam?" Bobby grabs his shoulder.

Sam rubs his face, shaking off the dregs, "Bobby, I wish to Christ I knew." He stares at Dean for a moment, seeing the fear in his eyes and Sam's face crumples, "Dean, don't look at me like that! I don't know how to stop it!" and he slumps down to his knees on the floor, the tears coming fast as he covers his face in shame.

*

Dean watches Sam sleep, his dreams chasing expressions around on his face, his broken body twitching with leftover jabs of pain. He'd gotten Sam up off the floor and dressed, struggling with his still crying brother who was begging him to please try to understand.

While helping Sam get his shirt on, Bobby had remarked on how Sam's neck and jaw were so bruised up it looked like Lillith or someone had given him a bunch of hickeys to remember them by.

Then, Bobby'd gone real quiet when he'd studied Dean's jaw, his eyes moving back and forth between the brothers. Dean had met his gaze with a steady look, willing Bobby to ask the question, ready to admit his love for Sam but Bobby had withdrawn, hadn't wanted to know even though he did know, and simply helped Dean get Sam to the car, watching them drive away with a sad look.

Dean had helped Sam shower, washing off the cuts carefully and sewing up the ones that needed it, disinfecting him with Scotch as best he could, toweling Sam off and rolling him into bed naked where he fell asleep instantly.

Now, Sam is moaning, the dreams turning cold and he's rolling around, working himself up to a good thrashing just before Dean grabs him up and hugs him close, murmuring soothingly into Sam's ear, "Shhh, it's okay, Sammy, it's alright, you're safe now…"

"Dean!" Sam is wild-eyed, still in the throes of the nightmare, gasping against him, arms going around his chest, squeezing him so tight, Dean can barely breathe, "You're here! Thank Christ! I thought you left…thought you hated me and left…can't handle that…need you, need you so freaking bad…" and Sam's nuzzling into Dean's neck, inhaling his smell, lips hot and needy.

The feel of Sam against his neck is doing strange things to Dean's skin, making it come alive, tingle with goose bumps and he feels his dick start to wake up and stand at attention.

Sam pulls back, hands sliding up to Dean's face, urging him forward, wanting him close, "Please don't leave me…don't ever leave me, Dean, I can't take it if you leave…"

"Shh, Sam…"

Sam is agitated and Dean moves his hands gently over Sam's back, trying to bring him fully awake but Sam's still frantic, panicking, acting like Dean said something else, "No! I know that's what you're going to do! You're planning it! I – I didn't mean to use my powers! It just happened…"

"Sammy…let's talk about it later, ok?"

Sam shoves back against Dean's chest, suddenly angry, freaking out, staring at Dean with fiercely intense eyes, "No! Now! Want to talk about it now!"

"Sam-"

Dean is pushed back onto the bed and Sam is leaning over him, eyes glittering down and Dean feels electricity crackling in the air around them and Sam's face is close, his mouth almost touching Dean's, his breath fluttering on Dean's face.

Sam lets his eyes roam down Dean's body and then back up to his face, smiling down at him. Dean feels his arms get tugged up above his head, held firmly against the mattress and his shirt is pulled upward slowly, sensuously. One of his nipples is lovingly rubbed and Dean moans a little, dimly realizing that Sam's hands are on his waist-

Sam's hands are on his waist. So what's holding-?

Dean's eyes flick up to his wrists, nothing holding him but still he can't move and that's when he knows-

Sam's holding him there with his mind, touching him with his mind.

A flicker of fear in his belly is followed quickly by a burst of anger and he's growling at his brother, "You're using your psychic shit on me now, Sam? Let me the fuck up!"

*

Sam rocks back like Dean just slapped him, as he finally comes fully awake and understands what he just did. He gives Dean a horrified look, a tumble of words spilling out of his mouth, "Jesus Christ, Dean, I'm so sorry…I didn't know what I was doing…"

Dean is released as soon as Sam starts babbling and he moves his hands to Sam's chest, pushing against him with all his strength, shoving Sam aside. Dean's off the bed before Sam figures out what he's doing, shrugging into his jacket, staring at Sam like he has three heads.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks, terrified of the answer. His brain is still full of the drugs Lillith pumped into him and he's two steps behind, a minute too slow, freaked out about his powers and now what he just did to Dean.

He's morphed into a monster in the span of a few days and he doesn't know what the fuck to do about it but the one thing he does know, the only thing he knows is that he needs to hang onto Dean. Dean will keep him sane and stop the monster inside of him from consuming him, from taking him over.

Dean is the only thing he needs.

"Away from you." His brother snarls at him and Sam jerks away from the words, each one slicing through his gut like a dull blade as he cringes against the look on Dean's face. Repulsion and disgust take turns in Dean's eyes and Sam feels that way, too, about himself, like he's balanced on the edge of nothing and he's tipping, listing and no one's there to stop the fall.

The dull roar in his head causes a cold sweat to break out on Sam's forehead and he knows what he should do, he should let Dean go so that Dean will be safe, away from him, away from the evil he's becoming and so he's going to sit here and watch Dean open the door and walk away.

Yes, that's what he's going to do, sit here and watch Dean go. His insides fight and roil, punching at his ribs and belly, making him gasp with the ripping of his heart as it peels wide open and lays there, pulsing, trembling, life leaking out of it…

Dean will be safer without him. He'll be better off.

Sam bites at his lip, tears rolling unawares, unchecked down his face as Dean opens the door and gives one look back.

no...No...NO!

A lion roars mighty and loud somewhere nearby, making Sam jump before he realizes it's him making that God-awful racket and he doesn't know how or when but he's got Dean by the jacket, yanking him back inside, the soft leather bunched in his tight fists and the door is slammed shut, Dean's startled face looking up into his and Sam snaps-

Just snaps-

He's got Dean shoved up against the wall, the smell of leather and Dean filling his nose and he's grabbing the back of Dean's head, wanting those fucking delicious lips, that beautiful, luscious mouth so full of promises and sweetness and he takes it because he can, because he wants to and he grabs Dean's wrists, pushing his arms above his head, grinding his hips into Dean's cock and sucking down on Dean's mouth, his tongue, the swirl and flavor of those lips-

Dean is making small noises under him, opening his mouth, letting Sam in and Sam ravages, bites, and plunders, wanting the life, the essence of Dean, hungry for every bit, every drop of Dean that's alive and throbbing in that deep cavern. Sam can't get enough, a starving man eating his first meal and Dean doesn't fight, can't fight against the onslaught Sam is delivering to his mouth.

Dean tries to break away, to breathe maybe or to speak, Sam doesn't know which, doesn't care, truth be told and he pulls back to allow one breath before he swoops in again, dropping Dean's wrists to let his hands roam roughly over Dean, his fingers ripping at the leather jacket, tearing it off his brother's back and arms and throwing it away. Sam's hands wrench off Dean's shirt next, yanking it over his head, tossing it to one side, needing to lick the salty fear away from his brother and he releases Dean's lips to move down, tongue sliding down over the stubble on Dean's chin and lower, over his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as Sam sucks and bites the tender skin.

Sam's hands flick over Dean's nipples, tickling along his rib cage and Sam's tongue slithers across the heated flesh, Dean shivering with the cool wet path left in the wake of Sam's hot mouth. Sam captures one nipple in his mouth, thumbing the other one and Dean's body is jerking under his tongue, under his fingers, gasping as Sam's hands go to the jeans on his brother's hips, unbuttoning, unzipping and shoving them down, shorts following-

And then he's got Dean, hot and pulsing, Sam's tight fist grabbing the base of Dean's dick and Dean's head hits the wall behind him as Sam jerks the stiff cock, wrist flicking quickly and Sam's mouth is back on Dean's, sucking the rest of the life out of him while he makes Dean's hips buck and roll without conscious thought-

And Sam thinks incoherently, that's an involuntary reaction is what that is, like that even matters but he's trying not to eat his brother alive, trying not to throw Dean down and fuck him on the floor like a dog, like there's no tomorrow but that's about right because there really is no tomorrow-

He breathes into Dean's mouth, a promise, a threat, "I want you-"

And Dean whimpers back at him, a mumbled "Yes" reaching his ears-

As Sam continues, "And I'm going to take you-"

And he's pulling Dean to the bed, holding his brother up so Dean doesn't trip on the pants around his ankles, pushing him onto the bed and yanking off the remnants of clothes, shucking off his own as fast as possible and he's back on Dean in a heartbeat, still hungry. Sam grabs the lube and smears it fast, pushing fingers inside Dean even as he bites at Dean's mouth, making Dean moan with pain, with pleasure as his fingers finds the sweet spot inside of Dean's ass and Dean jumps, rocking his hips down, grinding onto Sam's hand with abandon.

Sam pushes Dean's legs up onto his chest, so that his ass is wide open and helpless and Sam's dick is swollen and painful with desire, and he shoves into Dean as far, as fast as he can, before Dean's muscles clamp down on him and he has to wait, impatiently chafing, needing to own this ass, own this man and he pulls back before giving another quick hip snap, thrusting his cock deeper, Dean grunting, gasping as he's shoved into the headboard and pulled away again.

Sam's teeth bite down on Dean's flesh, where neck and shoulder meet and Dean cries out with pain, with heat and Sam rasps into his ear, "You're mine, Dean! Say it!"

And Dean's head thrashes on the pillow, Sam's dick burning through him, parry and thrust, going as deep as Dean's ass can allow and Sam's chewing on Dean's nipples, pulling and pinching and then his hands are on Dean's bucking hips, Dean's legs spread wide apart as Sam drives into him, into the tight, sweet ass that clings, tugging him in and holding him there in the heat, in the fire.

"Yours, all yours, Sammy…" Dean pants out.

Sam tongues and nips at Dean's chest, working back up to bite an earlobe sharply before grinding out, "Touch yourself, Dean. Pull on that sweet dick for me and let me watch you come…"

Dean groans, reaching down to fondle and caress, stroke changing to a grip-pull in a few seconds as he moves close to climax, teetering on the edge of the precipice, and Sam knows Dean's close and he increases the rhythm, pulling back and crashing on through, a low whine coming from Dean's chest as Sam pounds into him–

"Jesus, Sam, I'm gonna-" and Dean's body stiffens, his muscles twitch and his dick spasms, and he's coming, bursting at the seams, like he's never come before and it's pumping out, all over his hand, his belly, Sam's belly, hot and thick but Sam doesn't stop, keeps pushing and pulling, hips bucking into Dean's sweet hole-

And Sam's lost control, that hot tunnel and the crescendo building in his dick are the only things in his mind as he jerks forward and releases, jerks and releases and it blows wide open as, with a gasp and a shudder, he empties himself deep into Dean's ass, pumping until there's no more, a soft moan the only sound easing out of his chest now.

The sounds of their rasping, heaving breath fills the room as they rest together, huffing into each other, trembling, coming down now and Sam releases Dean's legs, pulling himself slowly out and lovingly bending down to plant a small, chaste kiss on the corner of Dean's bruised and swollen mouth. Dean moans at the loss of Sam's dick inside him and rolls over when Sam crawls up next to him and collapses, curling up around Sam like a satisfied cat, almost purring.

"Holy shit, Sam…I always knew you were holding back on me but man! When you break, you don't fool around!" he manages when he can, and Sam puts an arm around Dean's shoulders, feeling almost shy now, scared of how much he feels, pulling Dean close and kissing his forehead.

"I lost control. I'm sor-."

"Don't you dare say you're sorry! I always wanted that from you – to make you as crazy as you make me! It was awesome!"

"Did I hurt you?"

"Hell, yeah! My ass is sore as hell!" Dean looks at Sam with twinkling eyes, "Wouldn't have it any other way…"

Dean reaches down to pull up a blanket, covering them, still breathing hard. Sam is already half-asleep and Dean's going down, too but remembers and mutters, "We need to talk later…about your powers."

Sam breathes out a sad sigh, still awake enough to understand, "I know we do."

*

-The end-

*