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Because Sam Knows What's Out There in the Dark

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Dean isn't back yet. He said he was just going out to get food, but he should have been back by now. The sun is setting now, and Sam knows exactly how long it should have taken Dean to walk to the store, get stuff for dinner, and walk back to the motel. It's several hours past the time Dean should have returned. The thing is, Sam knows Dean can take care of himself, but Sam also knows what's really out there in the dark.

Sam is supposed to stay in the motel room, safe behind the wards and salt lines, but Dean could be in trouble. A monster could have taken him, or heck, some moron could have hit him with a car on his way to or from the store. Either was, Sam knows Dean needs him. So he carefully opens the door and steps over the salt line, determined to save Dean. Just like Dean always looks out for him.


Sam sat sullenly on the couch in the living room of the house on some guy's farm. He'd gotten picked up by the cops last night when he was out searching for Dean. None of them had really been interested in listening when he tried telling them Dean was missing—not that he'd gotten very far in his explanation. They just kept trying to ask stupid questions, and they really hadn't liked it when he'd resisted their attempt to bring him into the station, or when they found his butterfly knife. When they actually got to the station, everyone kept asking stupid questions and kept telling him to worry about the trouble he might be in now, not anyone else. By this time, Sam had simply shut down and remained quiet in the face of their questions. Eventually, someone had said, Aw, just stick 'im in holding, and take him up to Sonny's in the morning. So here Sam was, handcuffed, huddled into the couch cushions, and still no closer to finding Dean.

Really ain't your week, is it, Officer? the man who'd just walked into the room stated. Sam guessed he was referring to the scratches Sam'd put on his face when he had tried to bring Sam in last night. The officer already had a relatively fresh shiner, which Sam hadn't given him, but he must have gotten it in the past couple of days as it hadn't begun changing color yet. Sam smirked at the thought he'd made this jerk's week even slightly worse. The officer rounded on Sam.

You think that's funny, you little punk? he spat. Sam just put on an innocent look, widening his eyes.

Alright, enough, the man Sam didn't know rumbled. This is the second kid in as many days. So what'd this one do? Besides try and rearrange your face?

The cop straightened and replied, Caught this one out late last night. Brat wouldn't answer questions, fought arrest, and was in possession of this. The cop held up Sam's knife. Evie figured you could get him to talk, Sonny. Maybe keep him until the judge is back at least, if necessary.

Sonny sighed. Alright, I suppose we can find him a bed. Got a name, kid?

This last question was directed at Sam.

Don't bother, he won't answer. Got no manners, no respect, this one, the cop grumbled. Sam rolled his eyes.

Just 'cause you're dumb and won't listen, wastin' my time with your stupid questions, he muttered. My name's Sam, sir. This, he said at full volume, directing it towards Sonny. The cop growled and stalked out of the farm house.

Shouldn't antagonize him, Sonny observed mildly. Sam raised an eyebrow and pulled what Dean affectionately referred to as a bitch-face. Because then he leaves with the keys, Sonny continued. Sam just shrugged and unclasped his hands in his lap, revealing the shiny handcuff keys laying in his palms. Sonny chuckled as Sam let himself out of the handcuffs.

You can leave those on the table there, kid. Sam laid the handcuffs down, then pocketed the keys. Sonny raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment.

The rest of the boys are out doing their chores, so why don't we find you a bed, and then you can get the grand tour. Sound alright, Sam?

S'pose, Sam mumbled. Just then, the front door swung open, a group of boys slouching in. And there in the back was—

Dean! Sam cried. His brother whirled around as Sam launched himself forward. Dean caught him in a tight hug.

Sammy, he breathed, what are you doing here?

Sam was so glad to see Dean, he didn't even protest at being called Sammy.

It was dark, and you weren't back, and I was worried, and I thought something happened! I thought something got you or you were hit by a car, and then there were the cops, and they took my knife! he babbled.

Hey, hey, Sammy. I'm okay. Nothing got me. Just picked up by Officer Sunshine, is all. It's all fine. Everything's fine, Dean soothed.

Sam buried his face in Dean's chest, too overwhelmed to care about someone seeing this chick flick moment.

Wasn't you who was hungry, huh?

Sam jumped. He'd forgotten Sonny was there. The other boys had gone though.

Well, Dean, we were just headed up to find Sam a bed, Sonny clapped Dean on the shoulder. You tagging along?

Dean scoffed and hooked his arm around Sam's neck. Oh, yeah, I'm gonna pick hanging out with all those yahoos over settling in my brother.

Sam grinned up at him as Sonny led the way to the dormitory. It was pretty much just a room stuffed full of beds.

This is where the older boys stay, Sonny informed Sam. You'll be down the hall with the younger boys, Sam.

Sam tensed. Not be in the same room as Dean?

Uh, Sonny? Could... Could Sammy maybe bunk with me? Or maybe, I could move into the other room with him? Dean asked, fidgeting just enough for Sam to feel. Sonny gave Dean a long look. It's just... Sam and I, you know, we've moved around a lot, and I'm supposed to look out for him, you know?

Guess we might be able to swing that, Sonny mused, rubbing his jaw. Alright, let's get this settled so Sam can get the tour in before lunch.

it was that moment Sam's stomach decided to announce its displeasure with its empty state. Sam ducked his head in embarrassment. Dean was looking at him with a guilty expression. Sonny's brow furrowed.

Didn't they feed you at the station, kid? he asked, a little incredulous. When Sam shrugged, Dean tightened his hold on him. When was the last time you ate, Sam?

Sam glanced at Dean, who nodded. Um, he said. Day before last? Dean made spaghettios.

Sonny looked like he wanted to ask more, but he only said, Well then, let's get you a bed set up, then grab you something to tide you over until lunch time from the kitchen.