"Adam?"

Adam glanced up, delirious, gaze landing on a familiar face. One he never thought he'd see again.

His mother, beautiful and glowing. Her mouth spread into a wide smile as soon as their eyes met. Her hair, glimmering in the lighting, which appeared to be shown down by God. A bright blonde, one that matched Adam's perfectly.

"Mom?" He questioned in a hushed sort of voice. Then, again, slightly louder, "Mom..."

Kate Milligan opened her arms, radiating warmth. She didn't have to say anything more. The implication was clear, but even if it hadn't been, Adam couldn't contain himself any longer. Rushing forward, he wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes tightly. Comfort. Pure comfort.

Angels sang as she spoke near his ear, "I've missed you. So much." Holding him nearer, stroking his back in a motion that brought him to memories of his younger self falling asleep across his mother's lap on their Friday movie nights.

Adam had no words. Eyes still shut tightly as his heart made a rhythmic beat, he felt the room swirl. The warmth strengthen. The good memories come back. He felt his fingers loosen their previous tightly gripped fists, as if melting into his mother's arms more. His mind and body falling into sinc as the words to a lullaby he hadn't heard since he was five rang. He felt okay.

Then it was all gone.

Like she'd never been there, the room was cold. Freezing, in fact. And now, with nothing to catch him, Adam stumbled forward. He was simply grasping at air.

The room was black. Adam felt groggy. Anything good that used to surround him had been stripped away in one swift motion. He didn't know where he was. He didn't remember why he was there.

Just when he thought he was all alone something began to form in front of him.

Once again his mother, but different than what he'd seen before. There was no bright light. No warmth. No loving connection.

Her face, nearly unrecognizable, hung slightly loose in a gory shadow. Bloody and pale. Eyes dead and glazed over. Her clothing was ripped to shreds, body horribly thin, arms and legs bruised with chunks of uneven flesh missing. Looking as if she was about to faint, she somehow remained standing. And in the unflattering shadow stared hard at Adam.

He tried to move, but he couldn't. Like millions of boney hands were pulling his feet right onto the ground, he didn't budge. Legs unbendable, chest pounding.

He tried to scream, but he couldn't. Like his mouth was sewn shut, vocal cords locked away somewhere far, nothing came out but a strained gasp.

As he closed his eyes tighter and tighter, shaking his head, trying to get away from the putrid image, it became clearer. Like the more the darkness filled the room the more this thing thrived. Unable to get out of his mind. His arms locked. His chest hurt. His head pounded. The back of his neck creased.

And Adam's eyes shot open.

Jolting straight up on the motel bed, chest heaving, Adam was now aware that he'd just experienced a dream. But that didn't stop the frantic look that passed his face, maybe just for a moment, as he slowly reminded himself where he actually was.

Grip tightening on the sheets, he glanced across the room that he'd fallen asleep in. It was brighter than last night, due to the open window which allowed the morning rays to flood in. The bathroom door was left unhinged, a towel scattered across the ground; and the bed next to Adam's was empty, leaving Sam to be found sitting at the kitchen table, using his laptop intently.

Though as soon as Adam had shot upwards, Sam's eyes fell to him. His face dawned on sudden worry, or something close enough to it. "You okay?"

Ignoring Sam, Adam focused on getting his uneven breaths under control. Adam himself still hadn't fully processed the word brother, especially when looking at two guys who he'd never seen before yesterday. Sure, he'd wanted a sibling somtimes back when his mom was alive. Being an only child, especially with his mother working such long hours, he spent a lot of time alone. But this was different. It wasn't like how Adam expected it to feel.

Back then, when he'd think about having a younger brother, it was always fun stuff. They'd join the same baseball team, and Adam would take him under his wing. They'd share the same room and stay up late playing video games. Eat junk food when mom wasn't home, wrestle on the front lawn, ride their bikes to school. He wouldn't be alone anymore on the long night shifts.

He always thought if he ever got a brother, like he'd so despretly wanted, he'd be estatic.

But Adam wasn't.

The initial shock was there. In learning about their existence, he couldn't help but admit he'd felt a ray of hope. Small, but present. Standing in the cold CPS building, clutching his backpack, it'd passed his mind. His mother was gone. His father was off the radar. But he had brothers.

It'd only lasted a second. After that the gut wrenching feeling had twisted its way back into his stomach. All he wanted was his mom back. He knew that now more than ever. These aren't his brothers. Adam doesn't even know these people; and he'd trade anyone to see his mom again.

Carefully, Adam opened and closed his right fist. Then in a controlled, but shaky, sort of motion ran his fingers through the sweaty strands of his hair. that stuck up from the contact With that he kept his gaze steady, eyes trained on the small framed photo of a little cottage house sitting on a hill. It looked sentimental, like something you'd see on your Grandma's wall. Making Adam squint to catch the small details that aligned the house's vast garden.

"Adam?" Sam asked again slowly, having not received an anwser to his first question.

Adam's eyes moved to face Sam, noting his close examination of Adam's face. Taking a second to swallow, Adam responded in an attempt to change the subject, "Where's Dean?" Trying as hard as he could to sound non-chalanent, even bored. It came off too scratchy for either.

Sam looked skeptical, raising an eyebrow only an inch. He seeemd at inner-conflict, debating on whether he should pressure the response he wanted to get, or play along with Adam's avoidance. To Adam's relief, he went with the latter. "Went out to grab some breakfest. He'll be back soon."

There was still a hint of hidden concern. Even Adam caught it, though it went ignored. Sam having responded to a question Adam really didn't care about, Adam felt his eyes purposefully shift torwards the window, avoiding eye contact once again. They sat in silence longer than they should have.

"Look—" Sam began, setting the phone that he'd previously held in his hand next to the open laptop. Adam could feel his doey eyes piercing into the side of his head. He wished they'd stop. But even though it seemed like Sam was preparing a long speech in his head, he couldn't exactly form the words together coherently. So instead, he said, "Sorry."

His gaze travled back to Sam in slight confusion. "Why?"

Sam looked back down at his laptop, then the cellphone, and frowned. "I don't know." He had more to say, but that's where they stopped.

Or at least Adam thought he'd stop. A minute after he assumed the conversation was over, he'd swung his cold feet over the side of the bed. Only for Sam to start up again, Adam quickly realizing he wasn't one to let things go. "For this crappy motel." Sam elaborated whole heartedly, forcing Adam to look up. "And the car ride. And the diner." Adam shifted a bit, as Sam cleared his throat. "I'm sorry for who your Dad is. I wouldn't...want it for anyone else. And what happened to your..." Mom.

He didn't have to finish the sentence for Adam to quickly fill in the blank, head hanging low. But it didn't last long. Because as the obvious pity he could feel radiating off of Sam got to him, he felt his stomach bubble a little. "Yeah, well, I'm over it." He muttered with contained heat, glancing to the side.

Sam gave him a soft stare. He tempted, "You don't have to be."

"Well I am!" Adam shouted, feeling the heat rush forth from a pain inducing nightmare to rage as he shoved himself off the bed. "So lay off, will you?!" He wasn't mad at Sam. Not really. But the unwavering fact was that Adam had nothing but anger to defend himself with. His acclaimed brother attempting to prod into his mind was worse than the thought of him actually knowing how fucked up Adam was over all of this. Or maybe he just hated the thought of people trying to play therapist.

Sam didn't flinch, but his eyes shifted a bit. Adam couldn't make out his thoughts. He didn't have a chance to, either.

In that second Dean pushed open the motel room door, two brown bags of deep fried "breakfest" in his hand. "S—" Dean stopped himself quickly, eyes catching the tone of the scene he'd walked in on. He couldn't have known what was said, but he did see Adam standing in anger, directed torwards Sam, with his fists tightened.

"I miss something?" Dean questioned slowly, words seemingly trying to stay as light as possible. It wasn't a joke, but somehow he made it seem like it'd attempted to be one.

Adam barred his jaw, pushing torwards the bathroom and slamming it shut. The only privacy he'd get in awhile. It made a much louder sound then he'd expected. He tried not to care.


"The hell was that?" Dean questioned, dropping the food onto the kitchen table in front of Sam's open laptop.

Sam gave Dean a long look at his half-baked tone, which expressed his emotions almost instantly. It was the type of look that said, not the time for your shit.

Not many people could read this look well. Jess could, but he never used it on her. It was more of a hidden emotion he expressed when annoyed at others, which she always said she could see every time his eyebrows would crease in a certain way. What that meant to her was, it's time for them to leave.

Dean could unsurprisingly read it too, though unlike Jess, he wasn't the best at helpfully ridding Sam of the look. Shown by his frowned reply, "Jesus, alright. Just thought the cat fight you guys were breaking out was important." In saying this he'd dug out his meal from the bag, and plopped down onto the chair across from Sam.

Sam sighed in frustration, eyes unable to stop themselves from grazing past the closed bathroom door. He knew Adam was in pain. He didn't need much evidence to prove it. The kid's mother had just died, and John isn't even here. How could he not be? But the thought of connecting with him at all seemed like a task too far to grasp.

He wasn't sure if Dean felt this way. As long as Sam could remember they'd been close. Dean can be overbearing at times, but Sam has known for years that's just simply his nature. If not his nature than the screwed up situation John Winchester threw them both into. And he accepted it for what it was.

Still, he tried to understand that, and continuously failed. The pure dedication Dean had to one thing in his life. His car, for one. More importantly, family. No one was really asking him for that anymore. John was definitely capable of handling himself, Dean looked up to him like a God. And even John knew Sam was capable of handling himself as well, but Dean just couldn't push himself out of that role. Not that he'd admit that to Sam...or anyone, for the matter.

Sam was that what he was feeling, the urge that it was his place to knock on the bathroom door and make sure Adam was alright, was something that Dean'd dealt with his whole life. It wasn't synced yet, but Sam could feel it getting deeper. Especially as the kid had shot awake from a nightmare, breathing heavily with a desperate fear in his eyes.

And Dean probably felt it too. Or would. It'd most likely take him a moment. He was too caught up in their father's participation in all this. Which was funny, as Sam began to pick up how 'like Dean' Adam was.

"His mom just died, and we have no idea where Dad is." Sam spoke after a second, breaking his long look at the bathroom door. "He says he's fine."

Without Sam noticing, Dean'd already began to eat. Sam couldn't help but wonder what his motivation was for grabbing 'breakfast burgers'. He was more inclined to have a coffee anyways.

As Dean took a bite and listened to Sam's comment, he snorted slightly. "That's what this fight was about?" He questioned, swallowing. "Look Sam, he's a teenage kid. Of course he's gonna say that. Not everyone was a girl like you growing up."

Sam glared his way, opening his mouth to respond before he found himself being cut off by Dean. Though his words were now dry of humor, as the vigor turned serious. "Leave it, alright?" The words died in Sam's throat.

Silence fell upon them as Dean's eyes grazed across another newspaper. He was desperate for a hunt. Sam could tell solely by his eyes, even his somewhat tense shoulders. But he played it off as relaxed as possible.

It was a moment later when Sam decided to break the quiet, "So I was thinking-"

"Never a good thing." Dean mumbled, half-heartedly.

Sam ignored it, continuing, "We're not going to Bobby's."

Dean looked up, slightly surprised. "We're not?"

"No." Sam began, knowing the reaction he'd get once he began, but only caring to get his point across to Dean. He continued slowly, "We're going to California." Dean's face didn't waver. "Dad called from a pay phone. Sacramento area code." In saying this he pulled out the cell phone in which John had contacted them, sliding it across the table.

"Sam—" Dean began, voice echoing his thoughts about Sam tracing their Dad's call. But Sam didn't let him finish.

"Dean, Dad's closing in on this demon. I mean it killed Mom and Jess. We've got to be there." Dean seemed almost exasperated, as Sam quickly continued, "And maybe it might get Adam some closure, right? Seeing Dad? Getting him some actual answers!"

Dean scoffed, "This isn't Oprah Sammy, we're not here to patch up our family." It was Sam's turn to scoff. "Dad said keep Adam safe, so that's what I'm gonna do. We're not running off to find him just because you directly ignored his orders and traced the call."

"We have a right to be there Dean." Sam said, finding himself standing now as he pointed at his chest. "You do, I do, and so does Adam. No matter what."

"He doesn't even know what's going on." Dean replied, talking on terms of Adam. "Matter of fact, neither do we. We don't know what Dad's getting into. He's been tracking his thing for years. Showing up now could get us, him, Adam killed. It could blow the whole case."

Sam barred his jaw. His breathing was heavy, face raw. He didn't have anything else to say. He just started to move. Breaking eye contact with Dean, Sam grabbed his laptop and began making his way over to the motel bed where he'd slept. From there he shoved it into his duffle bag, followed by the few clothes he had.

Dean started to stop him, attempting to take the duffle bag from Sam, but it was no use. Sam yanked it out of his hands, shoving it over his shoulder.

"Seriously?" Dean questioned, unsure of what to do. His voice still tinged on anger, but there was an undertone as well. A slight fear of Sam walking out on him again.

Sam glanced back at Dean, but didn't say anything. Adam was standing near the bathroom doorway. He'd probably exited once the argument had excolated to a level of concern. His face filled with slight confusion, he glanced back and forth from Sam to Dean. Then, he was starring at the duffle bag, which Sam weilded. For a second Sam wondered how much he had heard.

Taking a step forward, Sam placed a hand on Adam's shoulder. A hand which wasn't shoved off, to his surprise. "I'm not ditching you, alright?"

With that he turned on his heel and headed for the motel door.

"Where are you going?" Dean questioned at his back, out of alternative options.

"To get some answers." He responded, and the door slammed shut behind him.


A/N: First off all, response to this story has been phenomenal. You don't know how much the comments mean to me, I love to read them. Thanks for all the follows and favorites, motivates me to continue when I know people are reading. (And I will definitely try and get chapter 5 out sooner rather than later.)

In terms of this chapter, I am still...iffy about it. I've editted it over and over, and I don't know what it is. I hope it doesn't feel too rushed (or prehaps like Sam is leaving too soon.) Right now we'd be on the episode "Scarecrow", so (if you recall) Sam tracks the phone call from John and leaves Dean to go to California. That's where he meets Meg. To explain myself, I do think Sam feels a dedication to Adam (even so soon), but I also feel like he'd be more motivated to find Dad in the moment and avenge Jess. (Also Sammy will be back soon, so don't worry.)

I may tweek this particular chapter in the future, maybe once I get to a certain amount of chapters (or hopefully finish the book) I'll do a mega edit; but I think I'm mildly alright with what I ended up with.

Seeya.