Graveyard Digger, Coffin Case Sinner

The Pull of Another

Sam paced the bedroom restlessly, waiting. The thirteen-year-old's eyes shifted from the clock, to the door, to the window, and back to the clock, as he paced the room. His heart slammed against his chest as he heard the old house's front door open and close. He froze, listening as footsteps moved in other parts of the house. Not quite heavy enough for John Winchester's, so that meant..

His heart lurched with hope as the footsteps moved down the narrow hallway, halted outside the bedroom door. It seemed like an eternity to Sam when the door knob turned and the door slowly creaked open. He exhaled, almost a sob, as his brother stepped into the small room.

"Sammy?"

The concern on Dean's face would have done him in if his hours of worry and restlessness hadn't already. He launched himself at the older teen – Dean caught him in his arms – and buried his face against his brother's neck.

"Dean. Dean Dean Dean."

"Sammy? What's wrong? What happened? Did John hurt you?"

Sam raised his eyes, met the concern in Dean's green gaze. He shook his head no, afraid to speak, afraid his heart would come tumbling out of his mouth if he spoke.

"Sam," Dean's voice was a whisper, his hands tightening on Sam's biceps, "Sammy, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Thought you weren't coming back," he blurted finally, the tears he had battled down for hours pooling in his eyes, "Thought he – You left, you said you weren't –" He bit his lip, shaking all over as the adrenaline flowed through him, his heart pounding a mad rhythm, "I thought you left. For – for good."

"Sammy," his brother breathed, pulling him against his chest, "Without you? No. Never. Never without you. John can fuck himself and die, but I would never leave without you. I would end him before I would let him keep us apart. You hear me?"

He nodded against his brother's chest, and Dean pulled back slightly to look down at his face.

"I would never leave you behind," the older teen vowed solemnly, "I would burn this fucking world before I left you, Sam." The man pulled him back into his arms, hands rubbing his back and face buried against his hair, "Couldn't leave you, Sammy. You're the heart of me."

"I know. 'm sorry, I do know, Dean," he inhaled Dean's scent – woodsy and metal and calming to his frayed nerves – "Just got – He said he wasn't gonna let you come back here, and –"

"That fucker couldn't keep me from you," the words were a growl, a promise etched with anger and assurance, "There isn't anything that will ever keep me from you. Fucking dare anyone to try. You're mine."

For the first time in what seemed an eternity, Sam breathed easy, smile touching his mouth. He tightened his arms around his brother's waist and whispered, "And you're mine."

"All yours, little brother," Dean vowed as he brushed his lips against Sam's forehead, "Every piece of me."