Ten Times I Said I Love You. One Time I Didn't.

The Run and Go...and Stop.

Dean Winchester:

My heart starts to pound and my chest tightens. Oddly enough, Castiel gets out of the car and starts walking towards the house first. Me and Gabriel get out after him. I want to tell him to stop, I'm fine, I'll handle it on my own. But I can't find the words. He walks towards the dark figure quickly and I didn't notice he was holding a gun until it glinted from the moonlight. Gabriel and me follow fast behind him, stopping only a few feet from the porch. The figure turns around just in time for Castiel to grab him by the front of his shirt and lift him off his feet.

"D-Dean! Get your hands the fuck off of me you stupid fucking-"

"Wait. Sammy?"

"Dean? What the hell- who are you?"

Sam? Sam is here. Why is Sam here. Sam can't be here. He's not allowed to be here. Shit. What is he doing here? It's not safe. He's not safe. Castiel hesitates for a second before he drops Sam back down to his feet. Sam steps back and I can see his face now. He's distraught and he has bags under his eyes.

"Dean who are these people and where the hell have you been?"

"Sam, I was just out for dinner. This is Castiel- the guy renting me the house, remember? And this is Gabriel, Castiels brother. What on gods green earth are you doing here?"

"They found me and you weren't answering the phone so I got on the first plane to New York and went to every strip club I walked by trying to find out where you worked. I couldn't find you so I thought maybe you'd be at home. I've been here for over an hour Dean."

Dean stares at Sam in a fit of spontaneous shock and disbelief. He's panicked and shaky, unable to make eye contact with the two men staring at him looking for answers. He pulls at his sleeves and pushes Sam towards the front door, handing him a ring of keys and telling him to go inside. He turned and looked at Castiel and Gabriel, pale-faced and quiet as he spoke.

"Thank you for dinner again. I'll see you guys later. I got to deal with my brother, otherwise I'd invite you in. Seriously, thank you. It was great. Nice meeting you Gabe-"

Castiel was now putting a silver pistol away in his back pocket, looking tense. Dean closed the front door behind himself and locked it, leaving two confused men on his porch for a few minutes. They eventually wandered back to the car and Dean sighed out a heave of tension. He turned to Sam and glared. They found Sam. They found him. Fuck. This wasn't good. What if someone followed him here? This wasn't safe. Dean cursed under his breath and pointed to the stairs.

"Go shower and change into some clean clothes, Sam. You look terrible. Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

"But Dea-"

"No buts. Go upstairs. Now. I don't want to see your face until morning. You get the spare room."

Sam glares at Dean and he wants to argue but he can't seem to find the words he wants to shout at him. He backs away and stumbles up the stairs grumbling under his breath as Dean grabs the front of his shirt and grips it tight. He holds the fabric over his chest as he sinks down the front door and to the ground. His face was white as ever and his stomach was spinning like he'd just gotten off a roller coaster. It was hard to breath. His mind went foggy. Man, he really hated these anxiety attacks. He hated them so much he would do almost anything to make them stop. And he did. He pulled his weight and dragged himself to the kitchen, searching under the sink until he found a half empty bottle of bourbon. He had found it a few days ago while cleaning and didn't bother to throw it out. Well now it was coming in handy. He opened the bottle and tossed the cap across the kitchen as he sat on the floor. Dean brought the bottle to his lips and chugged back as many swigs as he could before the burn got too intense. One chug. Two chugs. Three. Four. Five- and a half. The bottle was almost empty now, and he could feel his head go light.

I just chugged a bottle of liquor from a kitchen cabinet without any chaser and it burns so bad that I almost think I'll puke. I grab the edge of the counter and I pull with all of my strength to get up on my feet. Once I'm standing, everything starts to spin. I stumble across the kitchen, to the stairs. One at a time I crawl my ass up those bastard stairs and to the upper floor. The shower is on so I know Sam is doing as I told him to do. Good. I find myself crawling down my hallway and to my bedroom. It takes all the god damn strength I can muster up to get into bed. This is all too much on me. All too much. I don't know how long it is before I hear the water stop running and footsteps enter the room. Sam is glaring at me, rummaging through my clothes. I don't have a lot for him to choose from. I just watch, knowing he can probably smell the booze off of me.

"Dean, we need to talk. This is serious. I was at work and two of them came in. Raphael and Michael were there. They asked for me and I barely made it out the back door in time to get away."

"Sammy, I do not want to talk about it. Not right now. I just wanna relax."

"Relax? Dean- they could come knocking any minute. Hell, they could be downstairs in the driveway as we speak. We- we should leave. We should pack your things and just go. Go and never look back."

Leave. Run away. I've been doing that my entire life. I have been living in fear and shame and I don't want it to continue. My heart stopped pounding long ago when I chugged that whiskey. Now I don't care. I just don't. I can't. Let em' come if they have the parts. I'd like to see them try. This place... I may not know how long I'll be here, but for now it is home. And I'm done running.

"No Sam. Not this time. I'm staying here. You do as you please, but I'll be here. I ain't leaving. And I hope you stay."

"But De-"

"No, Sammy. Goodnight."

"Dean."

"I said goodnight."

Sam turns on his heels with a loud huff as he exits the room and slams the door shut on his way out, leaving Dean to his peace. The room is only dimly lit by the lamp in the corner by the window so it's no surprise how quickly he nodded off. Sam on the other hand wasn't happy and he decided to scower the house. He had to make sure they were safe. He had to check every door and window to make sure that no one was getting in. And he did. He double checked. Even when he was done, he still walked around the house and looked out all of the windows to make sure no one was anywhere near the property. Of course, no one was. The only sound to be heard was Dean's drunken snoring from upstairs and the sound of Sam's heavy breathing. He was stressed out, given the circumstances and all. It took him hours to fall asleep that night. By morning, Sam had gotten a ripe 3 hours of shut-eye. 8 AM and the sound of a loud knock was coming from the front door. By the time Sam peaked out the guest room door, Dean was already heading down the stairs in his big grey housecoat. He couldn't believe who it was when he opened the front door.

They're back...

"Hello Dean."