When Sam was two weeks old, he fell asleep in Dean's arms for the first time.

Mary placed him gently in the four-year-old's arms, handed him the bottle, and softly, patiently, guided the eldest brother. Dean could barely contain his excitement when Sam settled and began drinking. He begged his already-attentive mother to 'look it' over and over again and as soon as she assured him several times that she was well aware, he fell silent, grinning as he watched Sammy stare up at him with wide open dark blue eyes with the tiniest specks of gold and hazel.

The bottle was empty and Dean was still riveted as the baby drifted to sleep, eyes closing slowly. Dean pulled the bottle away, his mother whispered for him to be still and quiet. Sam turned his head in closer against his brother.

When Sam was about five months old, Mary would nap and Dean would sneak into Sam's crib. Sam would wake for a moment but then Dean would read stories to Sam that he'd memorized, putting Sam back to sleep. Dean would fall asleep next to Sam too. Mary would wake up to her angels both dreaming next to each other and go do the laundry, her trusty baby monitor in her apron pocket all the while.

In the last couple weeks before Sam was six months, Dean started slipping Sam soft foods. A spaghetti noodle hanging out of Sammy's mouth here, some scrambled eggs smeared on his cheek there, and soon the baby was bouncing on his high-chair eyeing Dean's food instead of his own. Mary relented and started switching Sam from formula to juice and soft baby foods. For barely a week, Dean got to change up the routine by crawling into Sam's crib and finishing off whatever juice Sam had left over in his bottle as he read to his little brother.

At six months, Mary was gone. John handled arrangements, accepted condolences, and investigated the fire. Family friends and neighbors took care of them, supplied them with brand new pajamas and toys. Dean was quiet and refused to speak. He stayed by Sam's side through all of it, diligently watching to make sure his brother wouldn't disappear too.

At seven months old, Sam was big enough and Dean was careful enough for John to allow them to sleep in the same bed. Now that he could ditch the portable crib, John's vague intentions to travel solidified into something real and dark.

As they traveled around the continental U.S., Sam and Dean sharing a bed went without saying for years. They easily developed preferred sides and positions. Most of the time they simply slept side-by-side, Dean on his stomach and Sam on his back.

Nightmares and Sam would typically squeeze himself in between Dean's shoulder and the mattress until he'd wake Dean at the lowest level of consciousness. Dean would turn on his side and let Sam move in as the little spoon.

Dean preferred that position sometimes, covering Sam like that. He used to fear the shoddy motel ceilings caving in on their bed and comforted himself knowing he was the hero holding Sammy safe and protected under him.

There was one position that annoyed Dean more than any other though and that was when he'd wake up to find his little brother practically on top of him, skinny long legs like a stork's, arms sprawled across his waist and shoulders like an octopus. Dean would wake up overheated and sweaty and grumble for Sam to get off. Sam would unashamedly grunt back and roll off him. He never apologized though, he never explained why he did it, and he never made a big deal out of it. At some point Dean realized Sam only did it if Dean was having nightmares. Dean stopped hating it so much after that.

After so long living and sleeping together in the same way, both of them were somewhat jarred when Dean started taking John's bed when he was gone. It was the same time John told Dean he was old enough to ride shotgun in the Impala too. At nine years of age, Sam didn't like either development so it was a slow transition. Dean still slept with Sam when their dad had his bed and every once in awhile Dean could be flattered and begged to sit in the backseat with his little brother. Sam was shameless about letting Dean know how much he was wanted, how much his company sitting right beside him mattered.

While Sam vaguely understood why Dean had put space between them, full comprehension dawned three years later. Sam took it to the next level, creating far more distance between them than Dean had ever established because it wasn't just the comical matter of avoiding noticeable morning wood like it'd been with Dean. Sam was striving for additional space for more deeper reasons like autonomy, agency, getting out from under his brother's shadow, and questioning their father's edicts. Sometimes Sam thought about Sully's encouragement to break out on his own and how he'd so vehemently backed out the minute his family wanted him. Things were changing now but it had always been difficult managing his hate of loneliness with his growing desire for independence.

Dean was fine with the increased distance as Sam hit his teens, oblivious even. Dean was growing into a reliable friend and apprentice to their father, a content hunter, a charming and experienced lover. Sam tried to hide his jealousy. He tried to hide a certain sense of betrayal too that Dean wasn't like Sully. Dean defended their father and lifestyle every time Sam floated subversive thoughts with him. Thoughts like college or how John should never have raised them so transient and poor or asking his brother to imagine building a career instead of hustling or taking strings of low-paying jobs. Dean treated the ideas like treason. He made Sam feel disloyal.

Sam matured further and realized it wasn't traitorous or disloyal. It was normal.

That was when Sam started to dream of normal, when he began to fight for normal.

His late adolescence was explosive, the bursts of pain and anger just never stopped coming. It hurt they expected Sam to stay in the family business and do a job he hated that would kill him by the age of thirty. How could they condemn him to that? How could John condemn Dean to that? How did Dean condemn himself to that?

Sam wanted real safety, not the kind John claimed they had by knowing how to survive life-threatening circumstances he pushed them into on every hunt. Nearly every case, at least one of them almost died. John had been making them live on a tightrope with no net for nearly two decades and Sam couldn't understand how they didn't see it, how they also didn't want to step off it. It was infuriating.

There were still soft moments throughout Sam's teens though, moments where everything fell away and went back to what it was between Sam and Dean. Sometimes they'd be in motel rooms but it always happened when a close call landed them in the hospital. John was a good man and father but after nearly losing a son it was always a question of 'when' and not 'if' his guilt would lead him to a bar. The brothers would volunteer to take point for each other in the aftermath, John would allow it, disappear into an alcohol-infused cloud of contrition, and his sons would slip back into what they once were to each other. The familiarity of being close and safe and taken care of was so much stronger with each other than their father anyway.

By the time Sam was eighteen, those moments had become so rare and angry dogs couldn't have dragged Sam back to that motel room when he left for Stanford. Later he realized how much he missed Dean in his more vulnerable moments freshman year but eventually Jessica arrived. Jessica pulled everything in his life together and gave it a meaning, a future. He had clutched her tight for weeks every night after every prophetic nightmare, desperately hoping she would never realize how fucked up he was and how much he didn't deserve her because of it.

She didn't mind. She just let him cling to her in bed, sometimes turning to spoon him, sometimes waking up enough to kiss and fool around.

In very different ways, the two people in his life that'd ever really shared a bed with him were deeply trusted by Sam, always instilling a sense of calm safety and love in him.

So maybe it made sense that something registered profoundly wrong in the recessed edge of his consciousness as Sam reached out in sleep and felt an unfamiliar presence. Narrow shoulders, long thin hair that couldn't possibly be Dean's...

Maybe it made sense that he'd gasp and jerk awake on a mental flip switch, falling off the bed but landing so quietly still and backing away.

Made sense he'd pass the duffel of weapons and deftly pull out a single throwing knife before backing into a corner of the room.

It'd make sense that no one knew any of this had happened until Kevin woke up to go to the bathroom two hours later.

The dream was a good one. A little bizarre as all dreams are. He was in a bar but then he realized it had been a coffeehouse all along. He was scanning the place for the best-looking company he could find. An Asian brunette sat at a table looking at her phone.

"This table for two?" Dean asked charmingly, slowly pulling the chair opposite her out. She smirked and nodded. She had beautiful almond eyes... in a suddenly concerned expression.

"Dean. Dean!"

"What?!"

"Dean! It's Sam!" Her voice was now distinctly Kevin's. Dean jerked away from her and landed on his side in his bed in his dark motel room, Kevin hovering over him. A hand on his shoulder and Dean immediately went for his knife under the pillow.

"Dean, something's wrong with Sam!" Kevin's hushed whisper did nothing to mitigate the fear in the kid's voice. Dean let go of the knife quickly and rolled away from Kevin to turn the bedside lamp on. He slipped out from under the covers, stood and blinked at the bed Sam was supposed to be in, ready to assess the situation. He faltered when he found it empty.

"Where's he?" Dean slurred, rubbing his eyes. "Sam?" He rasped, glancing around the room.

Kevin came around to Dean's side just as he was making a beeline to the bathroom since it was the only other place Sam could be. Kevin grabbed his wrist, startling the eldest into looking at him, and pointed.

"He's there, Dean."

"What the hell-?" Dean murmured, starting towards the far corner of the room where Sam was huddled on the floor. He moved in and sat down on the dirty carpet.

"I... I woke up to go to the bathroom and Sam was just sitting here. I don't know when he got up or anything. He won't answer me. He's not responding to anything when I asked him to go back to bed..." Kevin explained as he sat down at the foot of the bed behind Dean.

"Okay, okay, Kevin. I got it," Dean replied quietly as he leaned in, trying to get a good look at his brother. "Sammy?"

Sam didn't respond. He had his knees pulled up to his chest, head bowed down, vaguely rocking back and forth. No apparent injuries but Dean couldn't be sure.

"Hit the lights, will you?" Dean asked, his voice still scratchy as he nudged up closer to Sam. He heard Kevin get up behind him to do as he asked. Dean placed his palm lightly against the back of Sam's head then lower to wrap around the back of Sam's neck.

"Sammy? You hurt?" He whispered, starting to pat Sam's unkempt sleep-head hair down a little. Sam trembled at his brother's touches so Dean stopped and lightly gripped Sam's shoulder instead with what he hoped was a steady, stabilizing pressure.

"Hey Sammy it's just me," he murmured, "just relax."

Kevin found the light switch by the motel room door then. Sickly yellow lighting flooded the room. Dean could see now though. Sam looked pale and drawn, his eyes glazed and distant. Dean pressed his lips together.

"Okay Sammy, just gotta make sure you're not hurt, okay? Everything's cool, man." He moved his hands around Sam's body, pressing and releasing his touch, applying the sleep-warm pressure of his hands around the kid's frame, his shoulders, arms, waist, legs. Sam didn't respond but he stopped rocking. Dean hoped that meant Sam knew he was there and it was making him feel a little safer.

"Is he gonna be okay? Have you seen this before?" Kevin asked from behind and Dean shushed him lightly.

"Just be quiet, Kevin. We all just gotta be cool and relaxed, just breathe..." Dean trailed off as he gingerly placed his hands in strategic locations so he could, with painstaking slowness, unfold his brother from his curled-up position.

When Sam realized what Dean was doing, he jerked and whimpered, tried to pull himself in but Dean quickly interfered, coming up and hugging Sam's chest against his.

An animalistic whine released out of Sam as he writhed in his brother's arms.

"Hey no, it's okay Sammy, it's all right. It's gonna be okay. You're safe. I got you. I'm just checking to make sure you're not hurt, Sam, okay? Little brother? Hold on to me, it's all right," he kept repeating over and over. He moved Sam around, feeling for any blood or sensitivity along Sam's stomach, abdomen, shoulders, spine, back.

Sam eventually settled down in Dean's arms, the weight of his head getting heavier against Dean's shoulder. Kevin watched solicitously from the foot of the bed.

When he was done, Dean let out a sigh of relief. "He's not hurt," Dean ruled evenly.

"What's wrong then?" Kevin asked quietly.

Dean stiffened when he felt something hard against his back, something Sam was holding in his hand.

"Hm," Dean hummed, rubbing Sam's back even as his brows furrowed in concentration over how to solve this problem.

"What is it?"

"Don't talk for a sec, Kev," Dean ordered, his tone now more wary than it had been before. "Sammy, it's okay - it's just me, s'just me," he whispered into Sam's ear, slowly behind him to get Sam's hand and whatever was in it. He felt the knife in Sam's hand and he hugged Sam tighter, pressed his hand over Sam's, and kept whispering into his little brother's ear. "It's okay, let it go. Let go, Sammy," Dean coaxed.

Sam's grip loosened. Several moments of hushed silence passed. Dean finally got a good hold on the knife and didn't hesitate. He ripped it from Sam's grip and threw it to the floor, out of reach without even looking. Sam let out a discordant hum of distress and made to get out of Dean's hug. Dean held him back, wrapping his little brother back up in a fierce hold.

"Sam! Sam it's okay!" Dean said forcefully, drowning out Sam's garbled wheezes and whimpers. "C'mon Sammy, c'mon, relax, it's okay."

Sam shook against his brother and made small spastic attempts to get free. He didn't lash out though. Dean held onto him.

"Sam, it's okay, you're okay, you're safe," Dean promised, gripping Sam tighter after a stronger bid to jerk free of their embrace. "Shhh, Sammy stop fighting me. Come on. You're safe with me now. Stop, Sammy." He pushed Sam's head down against his shoulder and took his pulse. It was strong but too fast.

"Dean?" Kevin whispered from behind them. He was holding the knife, having picked it up while Dean was tending to Sam, confused and worried. "Dean what's going on?"

"His pulse is too fast. He's gotta relax or something-" Dean said, interrupting himself with a grunt as he twisted them around without loosening his grip on Sam. Sam whined softly in his brother's arms and Dean resumed his reassurances as he leaned against the wall, rubbing Sam's hair and back soothingly.

"You're safe. You're safe, Sammy, c'mon... Snap out of it." Dean cocked his head to the side to look at his brother. "Look at me, Sam. C'mon look at me, kiddo." He stared into Sam's bright eyes. The specks of hazel from when Sam had been a baby colored his irises more around the pupil as he'd grown up, creating a fascinating palette of colors from the edge of the iris inward: blue, gray, gold, brown in a spectrum... and nowhere in them could Dean see his brother waking up and coming back to him.

Dean sighed and shook his head before pulling Sam's chest against his own again. Over Sam's shoulder he looked to Kevin.

"I don't know," he said, wincing as he rubbed Sam's back as calmly as he could. " He's in a trance or something..." Dean trailed off, looking back down at his rag doll of a brother. "Put the knife in the weapons duffel, will you?" Dean murmured. Kevin bit his lip watching them but did as he was told.

"Is there anything I can do?" Kevin asked, moving softly back to the brothers. Dean shrugged and shook his head. Kevin nodded sadly. He sat down at the foot of the bed again. He wasn't going to leave them when they were still on the floor like this, with Sam like he was.

Dean fell silent after a long sigh, going peaceful now and swaying them back and forth, asking nothing of his little brother but to stay and rest in his arms. Even Kevin was lulled into a sitting drowse eventually. He was brought out of it by Dean's whispered request to turn the lights off.

"What?" Kevin desperately hoped Dean wasn't planning to just sleep on the floor with Sam tonight.

"Turn the lights off, Kev," Dean repeated.

"What're you-"

"He's breathing better," he murmured, shifting around on the floor, manhandling Sam around to sit him up straighter. "I'm gonna try to get him back to bed," he added as Kevin got up and turned the lights off. The nightstand lamp was still on so they could all still see.

"I'm gonna... I'll go back to my room," Kevin offered uncertainly, watching as Dean got up into a crouch, holding Sam's limp form up under the arms.

"Don't yet. I might need your help," Dean warned quietly. Kevin swallowed and nodded his assent but stayed by the door so he wouldn't be in the way. Dean tilted his head to get into Sam's line of sight. "Okay Sammy, we're gonna get up. Can you get up for me? I'm gonna pull you up and you're gonna have to carry your own weight for two seconds, you got that?"

Sam didn't respond, just wavered under his brother's hold until Dean felt some tension in Sam's muscles.

"Good job! Good job, Sammy," Dean whispered, heartened. Dean started lifting Sam up carefully, watching as his brother's body just went with him, seemingly of its own accord. Kevin wrung his hands but as Sam finally stood, hunched over and against Dean, the eldest smiled.

"'Atta boy. Good Sam, you're doing so good..." Dean murmured as he started shuffling Sam towards his bed.

"Is he... sleep walking?" Kevin whispered to Dean.

"I don't even know," Dean breathed, just the smallest hint of exasperation in it as he walked Sam with the slow step rhythm they'd fallen into.

"What bed-?" Kevin started asking as Dean bypassed the bed Kevin and Sam had been sleeping in.

"You should stay here Kev," Dean said, ignoring Kevin's question, "if it wasn't for you tonight..." Dean trailed off, angling Sam into the aisle between both queens. Kevin hung back though. He knew what Dean was saying. If he hadn't gotten up in the middle of the night to find Sam, Sam very well may have stayed there in the corner until dawn.
"Anyway," Dean coughed, getting an arm free to pull the covers back on his own bed, "And there's a whole empty bed here because Sam's gonna come back to sleep with me, right Sammy?" He joked, his tone too upbeat to be sincere.

Dean patted Sam's cheek and trailed his hand down to his shoulder and pushed. "Down, Sam, sit down, c'mon," he coaxed and Sam sat, eyes still dull and unseeing. Dean sighed and washed a hand down his face before pushing Sam down onto his pillow. He lifted his legs up and covered him with blankets.

Kevin bit his lip but accepted Dean's invitation to stay. He walked back to the now empty bed, the one farthest from the motel room door.

"D'you want, um..." Kevin pulled the patchwork blanket together. He held it out to Dean. Dean smiled weakly and Kevin couldn't believe his eyes. It seemed like Dean Winchester was suddenly on the verge of tears as he took it but it was gone so quickly he couldn't be sure. He turned and spread it over his brother. Sam remained still and quiet as the blanket fell over him.

"Thanks," the eldest whispered, still turned away from Kevin. "Now go to sleep, Kev, and thank you," Dean said, voice rough with emotion. The nightstand lamp went off. The sheets rustled with Kevin getting under the covers, then again with Dean getting into his side of the bed, the one closest to the door.

Dean sighed loudly. Sam was still as a statue next to him. Dean reached out and took Sam's hand to hold. He wasn't letting something like this happen again. If Sam moved again in the night, Dean would know.

"Dean?" Kevin whispered in the dark.

"Yeah?"

"D'you know what's going on? With Sam, I mean?"

Dean unconsciously grasped Sam's hand tighter.

"No," he admitted. "I'm hoping a good night's sleep and it'll blow over," Dean added tonelessly.

"But-"

"Don't."

Kevin fell silent.

Dean pulled Sam's hand to his chest and couldn't go to sleep.

Sam woke up the next morning, dawn light streaming in through those ugly brown and maroon chevron curtains, birds chirping outside, the sound of cars and trucks rushing past the motel from having just gotten on or off the highway. He was comfortable. He was warm, he felt safe, devoid of pain. Nothing hurt, Sam realized with a jolt. He would be ready to travel this morning. He was even craving coffee.

Already smiling, Sam blinked his eyes open and found himself staring at Kevin sprawled in the bed opposite him, the bed he was certain he'd fallen asleep in last night. He glanced down and noticed he was clutching the Universe blanket, the one he knew he'd spread on the other bed. He swiveled and discovered he was warm because Dean was asleep next to him a little farther up, the side of his body lined up with Sam's back.

Dean's hand fell against his hair.

"Dean?" he rasped, ducking out of Dean's touch and sitting up, "what the hell-?"

"What?" Dean winced, sleepy.

"Dean what... what happened?" Sam asked, his voice scratchy but urgent.

Dean sighed and blinked his eyes open to find his little brother staring down at him, his eyes wide and alert and worried.

Dean grinned, closed his eyes and folded his arms. "Y'don' 'member?" he garbled.

"No," Sam replied emphatically.

"Then don't worry about it," Dean said, smirking.

"Dean," Sam prompted, irked. Dean chuckled and Sam's eyes lit brighter with frustration.

"You just sleep-walked, Sammy. Relax."

Sam made a face and looked at the bed Kevin was in then down at the Universe blanket, embarrassment starting to seep in.

"I... sleep-walked to your bed with the blanket?" Sam whispered, slightly horrified at how juvenile it was. Dean snorted with laughter.

"Dean!"

"Not exactly." Dean replied seriously. Dean opened his eyes and cocked his head on the pillow, looking up at his brother who, as predicted, was looking down at nothing, trying to figure out the grim repercussions of this new symptom and his memory loss of the night before. "Sammy, it's all right. You didn't freak me out."

Sam looked back at his brother with a heavy expression, his jaw clenched, his brow furrowed in thought and anxiety.

"Seriously, Sam. Don't worry about it," Dean repeated, keeping eye contact with Sam for longer to drive his point home.

Sam stared at him then blew out a breath, shaking his head. Dean turned to check the clock. "Five-thirty in the morning?" He looked back at Sam. "Really?"

Sam shrugged. Dean rolled his eyes before closing them and turned on his side.

"C'mon, lie down for another hour," he grumbled. Sam twitched a smile and looked down.

"No, you sleep. I feel okay," Sam said. After a beat of silence he ventured on, "I... I want to take a shower and get coffee going," Sam said, quieter this time, self-conscious, hoping Dean would just say 'cool' and leave him to it. Unlikely, considering Dean didn't even let him bathe alone.

As predicted, Dean half-rolled back to look up at him.

"Really?" He was looking at Sam cautiously, assessing. Sam smiled and prayed. Please trust I can do this when I say I can, Sam thought.

Dean looked his brother up and down, considering. Sam did actually seem fine. Refreshed, even. "Okay," Dean said simply, and Sam beamed. "Just, y'know, be careful," Dean added and Sam nodded openly.

"'Course."

"And call if you need anything."

"Okay."

Dean licked his lips and smiled. "Okay Sammy."

Sam practically bounced up to get to it. Dean smirked and rolled back over to face the door of the motel.

"Make the coffee strong, Sammy," Dean mumbled, just as always, and just as always, Sam poured extra water into the coffee mug he handed to Dean when he woke up two hours later.

A/N: This chapter was originally published 1/29/2015, and WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOO! Revisions are COMPLETE as of 8/20/2019! 🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊

Time to start writing new chapters again! SO EXCITING!

Thank you so much for reading! Please comment/review if you can spare the time!