Heartbeat [spn]

Part 14

Defeated and tired Sam and Dean made their way back to the hotel room. Sam kicking the door open with the toe of his foot gently and hearing it slam against the wall. Both brothers made their way in, threw themselves face first onto their beds and sighed. Muscles sore from fighting, tired from lack of sleep the past few days.

Dean grunted, rolling to his back and looking up at the ceiling. Sam hugged a pillow to his chest and stretched. Finally relaxing, finally at ease because nothing and no one was after them. Dean felt his eye lids growing heavy, his breathing becoming shallow, and his mind sleeping into utter nothingness.

The silence in the room was deafening, Sam could hear the steady drum of his heart in his head. Could see his vision starting to slow and blur. He watched Dean's chest slowly rise and fall, the sounds of the TV in the other room the only thing filling the void. Some commercial for some local restaurant echoed off the walls in the room next door.

Both brother's jumped up, looking at one another before they looked at the ajar door to your room. They didn't waste too much time like this, Dean and Sam jumping to their feet and quickly making their way into your room without saying anything. "Y/N?" They asked. Looking around the room.

Dean entered the bathroom with shakey hands, covering his eyes for a moment until he realized just how empty it was. He kicked at the curtain, ripping it out of a few rings from above. He cursed, his voice low and deep, before he joined Sam in the other room.

"She wouldn't have left again would she?" Sam asked, Dean shrugged. He had no idea. For all they knew you were out getting ice. Your TV was on, your bag still over in the corner of the room open with garments spilling out the sides.

Sam bent over near your bed, searching for the backpack he knew you kept under there. Dean opened your containers of food and picked at your uneaten dinner. Sam stood, a single shoe of yours in his hand. "Dude," He started and Dean sighed.

"Who now?! Didn't we kill them all?" Dean said angrily. This time it was Sam who shrugged. "Son of a bitch." He pounded his fist against the table, the food containers bouncing in the air for a moment before settling back down.

Sam sat on your bed, shoe still in his hand. "How do we find her?" He sighed, looking up at his older brother. He was defeated, tired to the core and just wanted you to be safe once and for all.

"I don't know. We took out that whole house. We left no one." Dean paced, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"What if there were others?" The words felt thick when they left Sam's mouth, but he had to ask, had to state his thoughts right now. Because that was how they were going to find you. And they had to find you.

"So we go back to that house? Search and see if we can't find another fucking hide out?" Dean asked, but he was saying it aloud more than asking. He was creating a plan, figuring out what to do, what was needed. Taking control of the situation completely.

Sam was too spent, Dean could see it in the poor boys face. He'd beaten himself up too much over Y/N getting hurt that he had nothing left. He was on empty. A good few days of sleep, food and drinks, and Sam would be back to pretend normal. Dean knew that. But Dean needed to take control of this situation now. Step up like the good little soldier he was.

"Guess so." Sam breathed. He was defeated, and he didn't care who saw. He was worried, he'd never been more worried in his life.

"Just once I'd like a clean cut case. None of," Dean gestured to the air around him, "this shit." Sam nodded, if only the world were slightly more perfect. If only it was find, kill, be done.

You watched Peter light a row of candles, one after another. The table was huge, one that you could easily have lain on and still had room around you. Which was what it was for. Peter blew the match in his fingers out, the smoke rising into the air and disappearing into nothing.