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After our conversation with Nicole's roommate, we left the building and stepped out onto the street. There, I noticed the Impala parked neatly against the curb. It was evident that something was weighing on Dean's mind, his posture and expression revealing his concern.
"You're worried," I stated, letting my words hang in the air. Dean came to a slow halt just inches away from the Impala. He turned to me, wearing an expression that hinted at his reluctance to discuss his worries. "You think if he keeps going down this path, he'll hit that wall so hard it'll come crashing down," I vocalized what we both had on our minds.
"What can I do? He's Sam, and he won't leave," Dean replied in a husky tone, a testament to how well he understood his brother.
"Stubbornness must run in the family," I teased with a soft smile, well aware that Dean could be just as resolute when it came to certain matters. "Look, you know I don't want to see that happen," I said in a serious tone, closing the distance between Dean and myself.
"I know. It's just..." Dean sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly as he glanced at me. "I can't lose him, you know? We've been through so much, and I've already lost too many people I care about," I reached out and placed a comforting hand on Dean's arm.
"We're not going to lose him, not if I can help it," I said, a determined smile playing on my lips as I gave Dean's arm a reassuring squeeze, offering him comfort and support. With a small, grateful smile from Dean, I lifted my hand from his arm. He turned back around, walked around the Impala's, and got in, and I followed suit. As we drove away from the building, I couldn't help but think about what they both had been through over the years, even before I came into the picture...
........................
We drove back to the rundown house we were staying in, fully aware that Sam had been arrested due to his actions over a year ago when he was here with Samuel. While neither Dean nor I were particularly surprised. Sam was the one who phoned us and told us about what happened, and how he had escaped.
Dean parked the car and switched off the engine. We both exited the Impala and made our way to the front door of the house. I turned the doorknob and pushed it open in one fluid motion, allowing us to enter. However, as we stepped inside, we both spun around in an instant when we heard a gun cock behind us. Both of us raised our hands in surrender, only to see Sam quickly lowering his gun.
"Hey, Sam," Dean remarked, causing both of us to lower our hands. "So, how does it feel to be a fugitive again?" Dean quipped, a smirk briefly tugging at his lips while Sam holstered his gun back into the waistline of his jeans. "Hate to say 'I told you so,'" Dean added before walking further into the house.
"You love to say 'I told you so,'" Sam retorted with a scoff.
"Actually, you're right – I do love to say 'I told you so,'" Dean replied before reaching into his jacket pocket. He had changed from his suit to his everyday clothes. "So, we found something on uh, 'crazy eyes McGee'," he continued, stopping in the other room as he turned a photo of Nichole around for Sam to see. "Turns out you two knew each other," Dean informed, and Sam grabbed the photo from him.
