Candle flame flickered in Sam’s peripheral vision, blurring the edges a warm shade of gold. One minute he was looking at his brother, felt his solid touch. Then everything shifted out of focus, stretched and elongated, like a fun house mirror. Vertigo took hold, mixing oddly with the sensations from his injuries, the hangover from the drugs still lingering in his system. An odd humming filled his ears, drowning out the sound of his name. Then Dean’s voice faded all together, along with the hospital room. They were replaced by the chapel and another’s presence. The touch was cold this time…the hand now gripping his arm like ice.

Gone were the sterile surroundings and the harsh fluorescent glare. Lost were his father and brother, replaced by the ghost of a friend who had long since left him. An empty ache took up residence in his heart with the realization that his dad and Dean had never actually been with him. At least not in this present time. It left him longing to see them both.

“Sam?” Jake’s voice seemed to echo in the lonely little chapel, resigning his fate to the present state of things. “You back among the living?” The teen snorted at his poor choice of words. “I mean…are you all right?”

Winchester blinked, took a deep breath to settle his stomach that was still flip-flopping from the magic carpet ride. “What happened?” He rubbed his eyes, bringing everything into sharper focus. A disoriented feeling similar to that of stepping from a darkened movie theater into the brightness of midday had him shaking his head slightly to clear the fog. “Jake…what did you do to me?”

The red head grinned. “Wicked, huh?”

Sam glared. “How did you do that? Why did you do that?”

“Sometimes taking a stroll down memory lane can help lead one in the correct path in the present.”

The hunter frowned. “Did you read that from some sort of handbook for spirits?”

Jake rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Ghost Speak for Dummies. How’d you know?”

“Seriously, man.”

The spirit continued to smile. “You’re the one who brought me here, Sam. Consciously or not, whatever is going on now somehow triggered a moment from that time in your life. I just gave you a little push, so to speak.”

Winchester raked his fingers through his hair, feeling a deep sense of weariness take hold. He tried to compare the time in Morgana with what he and his brother were facing now. “The hospital thing, maybe?”

“Doubt it.” Jake leaned back in the pew. “You’ve spent more than your fair share of time in the hospital, Kansas.”

“Then the wreck?” Sam looked up, trying to tie the loose ends together. “You dying?”

The ghost shook his head. “Wrong. We might have been buds, Dude, but I seriously doubt if my death would be anywhere close to what losing your brother would bring up.” Jake’s face softened some. “I guess you’d be talking to your Mom or Jessica if that were the case.”

Sam swallowed thickly. The idea of seeing his dead mother and girlfriend was both frightening and oh so tempting. “Damn it.” He hissed, pressing the heel of his hand into his forehead. “I don’t know…I don’t know anything. Not what to do or how to fix this.”

“Exactly.”

Winchester glanced up at the spirit. “What?”

“I’m guessing you hit the proverbial nail on the head there, Kansas.” Jake leaned forward. “Let’s face it. You’re a bright kid, but most of your life, you’ve had other people to handle the tough stuff. They’ve protected you, and sheltered you, and pretty much buffered you from all the shit you’ve had flung at you.”

“You’re joking right?” Sam asked in exasperation. “You must have missed a few chapters in the story of my life. My mom burned to death over my crib. Jess died the same way over our bed.”

“You’re missing the point.” Jake shook his head. “Both times, your brother was there to pull your fat out of the fire. Literally and figuratively, Sam.”

“I went to college. On my own,” Winchester defended. “I did that all by myself.”

The ghost laughed. “You’re brilliant, I said that. You went to classes, you wowed your teachers, you got a great girl and friends that accepted you. Man…that was taxing.”

Sam growled. “It wasn’t as easy as you make it sound.”

Jake sighed. “I know you worked hard and you feel you had that jerked out from beneath you, too. But I’m talking about the tough stuff, Sam. The times when there’s more at risk than just a bunch of grades or your career. I’m talking about the times when your heart has been in jeopardy, your soul in danger. You telling me that Dean and your Dad haven’t always been there? And Pastor Jim and Caleb? Your friend Mac?”

When Sam’s eyebrow shot up, Jake grinned. “Ghost handbook, remember? I’ve seen it all, Kansas, and I got to tell you, you’ve had it made in spades in a whole hell of a lot of ways. There’s only been a few times, maybe only two counting this very moment, that you have been alone. And I’m not talking ‘physically’ alone, Sam.”

The hunter chewed his bottom lip, looked down at his hands. He knew Jake was right. Hell, maybe subconsciously he figured it out the moment he had woken up back in the past alone and hurt in that crushed car with Jake.

He’d felt helpless. Unsure. Useless. Truth be told, Sam was scared shitless of messing up-terrified of failing the people he loved.

So much for years of training. Dean and his father, Caleb and Jim, they’d all fought to protect him, to make him a strong, capable hunter. But in the end, they’d merely handicapped him. When left on his own, Sam still felt like a five year-old. A protected prisoner in a castle full of dragons. Only now the dragons were gone, the castle, cold and dark, and Sam was all alone.

“You’re more capable than you think.” Jake said as if he were reading his morose thoughts. “You made it back then-held it together. You even helped me.”

The hunter laughed mirthlessly. “You died, Jake.”

“Yeah, but you were with me. You didn’t leave.”

“I was crushed in the floorboard. Not much choice in the matter.”

“You wouldn’t have left me, Kansas. Even if you could have.”

“Are you saying that I’m going to have to watch my brother die? Sit helplessly by as Death comes for him.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you getting at, man?”

The spirit frowned. “I’m just trying to help you make sense of the past…to figure out why it’s important now. To help you find what you’re looking for.”

“I’m not looking for anything, but a way to help Dean.”

“So, why did you come in here?” Jake gestured to the chapel. “You go to church a lot when you were a kid? Looking for a miracle cure?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “Not really.” He thought of the times when he had gone to church, what he’d been taught about it’s sanctity. “Jim made sure we knew where to find God if we needed him.”

“Then you did come in here looking for the Big Guy?“

Sam raked his fingers through his dark, tousled hair. “I don’t know what I was looking for.” Faith. Peace. Shelter. Sam really wasn’t sure. He merely felt lost. “ I just want to save my brother.”

“And you think finding God will do that?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll share a little secret with you, Kansas. Places like this are empty until people come in them. There was nobody here before you showed up.”

The dark-haired hunter frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you ain’t going to find God hanging out in a church, or a temple, or any other hallowed place.”

The furrows in Sam’s brow deepened. “Hallowed ground has power.”

“Your belief it in it has power.”

“Are you telling me that God doesn’t exist?”

“No.” Jake shook his head, leaned forward. “I’m telling you that God doesn’t exist in a structure, or in a book, or any certain place or country. That’s not his style. Your friend Jim knew that-told you as much.”

“Then where is He?”

The red head shrugged. “In the moments that mean the most, the seconds we'd like to freeze time, and just hold on to. He’s in what we feel the strongest about…our passion, our hopes and dreams. Mostly though, you can find him in the people we love the deepest, the very bonds that hold us the tightest.”

“Like my bond with Dean?”

“Yeah, Kansas. I’d say God’s all over that.” When Sam continued to look at him, Jake sighed. “Look, I’m not sure, because I’m still new to all this, but I think He just didn’t create people in his image, man. People are a part of him. All living things are a part of him.” The teen shrugged. “The most sacred part. This life, being alive, it just blurs that sometimes, makes it hard to recognize Him, through all the superficial crap.” He gestured to their surroundings. “People have always tried to put things in a box to understand them better-to make them more tangible. But pinning God down, boiling that kind of power to something simple, is like trying to rope the wind. He’s everywhere.”

“Kind of like the Force?” Sam couldn’t help but to smile at all the times his brother and Caleb used Star Wars references to things like God and other unexplainable phenomena that made them nervous-threatened their tough guy images. After all, Dean was the most ‘tangible’ person that he knew.

“You got it, Skywalker.”

“It still doesn’t help me know what to do.”

“Well, you kind of have to be dead to get the whole picture.” Jake grinned again. “And I don’t think you brother would take too kindly to me remedying that one.”

Sam snorted, wiped a hand over his face. “No, I guess not.”

The young ghost hunter rested his elbows against his knees. He let his head drop to his hands. He felt an aching in his legs from sitting so long in the hard wooden pew. “Thanks for bringing back such pleasant memories by the way.”

The dead teen chuckled, “wasn’t a picnic for me either, Corn Fed. I’m dead, remember.”

“I know.” Sam replied, lifting his head again. “It’s just . .I’m not ready to lose him.”

“Yeah, like I said, I wish I had a brother like that.”

“Umm, look, I know it looks bad. Anyway you can have the big guy ignore him, give me some time?”

“It doesn’t work that way, but I’ll try.” Jake looked to the door. “I think it’s time you go check on Dean. I think you might find what you‘re looking for.”

Sam stood up, taking his dead friend’s suggestion. “Thanks, and I’m really sorry. I wish you were still around. . .”

Jake shrugged his shoulders. “You know think of me every once in awhile, and have a shot of tequila for me.” He turned and started to move away, but stopped suddenly, swinging his gaze back to Winchester. “And Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember to have faith. That’s real important. Faith can do amazing things. It has power just like hallowed ground, and holy water. It’s healed people since the beginning of time.”

Sam nodded, thoughtfully. Then in a moment Jake was gone, as if he was never there.

For a moment, the hunter wondered if he had dreamed the ghostly appearance, but had seen too much in his short life to discount something even as unbelievable as what had happened. Thinking of the moments he had relived, he raced to his brother’s room, slowing down only when he came up to the door. Even in his urgency, he didn't want to alarm his brother.

He controlled his breathing, pushed the door and entered to find Dean awake. He lay pale, buried down in the mattress. His eyes flicked up to his younger brother.

“Hey,” Dean said softly.

Sam sank down into the chair that had been his perch. “You should be resting.”

“I should be doing a lot of things. . .”

"The doctor said you needed to get some sleep."

"I was waiting on you."

"I just stepped out for some air."

A hint of a lop-sided grin played at Dean's mouth. "Thought you saw your chance to finally get your hands on the Imapala." He swallowed hard, trying to pull in more air. "I wasn't sure you were coming back."

Sam leaned forward, closer to his brother. He remembered his own similar words in a hospital years ago. "I'll always come back, bro."

The other hunter frowned at his little brother's solemn tone. "You okay?" The faint light made the dark bruising under Dean's eyes look even worse, and the frown lines didn't help. "I mean...I know this is hard..."

"I'm going to fix it."

"Sammy..." The blond started, but Sam shook his head. "I mean it. It may take me a while, but in the end, I'll make it right." The younger brother reached out, let his fingers bravely encircle his brother's wrist. "I'll be here, big brother. Always."

Dean licked his lips, unsure if he should say something typical or let the humongous chick-flick moment slide, considering it could be their last. In the end he found the middle ground by playing the role he was born for. "You sure you're okay? Didn't jog anything lose when you did the slinky imitation down the stairs?"

Sam snorted, let him go to slide his hand through his hair. "I'm good."

"Then...thanks.”

The younger Winchester tilted his head in slight confusion. "For what, man?"

"For taking care of this," Dean nodded to the darkened room around them. "You did good, Sammy."

"I should have been there." Sam said suddenly, his eyes brightening as an unexpected surge of emotion came out of nowhere. "I was just a few fucking yards away...and I couldn't even protect you-didn't have your back."

“Whoa,” The other man slowly pushed himself up on the bed. He winced as his abused body protested the slightest of movement. "You were getting the kids out of there, Sam. There was nothing you could have done. This isn't your fault. Do you understand me?"

It was all clear to Sam now. The reason why he'd recalled the time in Morgana. "But I should have been there. I shouldn't have left you alone. There wasn't even anyone for me to beat the crap out of for hurting you." It wasn't just about him being alone...it was about him failing his brother, just like he had accused his brother of failing him.

"Okay," Dean sighed. "I'm buzzing the nurse."

Sam reached out and covered his brother's hand with his own. "No. You don't understand." He sighed. "That time in Morgana, when I was in the car wreck...I blamed you for not being there. I was so angry...and you were hundreds of miles away. But you still fixed it. You fixed everything. And I didn't do anything but call a damn ambulance."

"That's not true." Dean snapped. "You got me out of there. You kept me alive. Two things I had nothing to do with when it was you hurt in Morgana." His brother looked at him. "What the hell brought that up, anyway?"

The younger man threw his hands in the air. "I don't know." He said, miserably. "Losing you, I guess." Sam lifted his dark eyes to his brother. The fact that you looked dead, and felt dead lying there in my arms. "Being alone..." He shook his head, looked away. "It's stupid."

"Dude..." Dean waited for him to meet his gaze again. "I don't actually get the whole car wreck connection...but I didn't want to leave you by yourself back then-don't want to leave you alone now." Damn it. That was the last thing he wanted, especially when their father was missing. The whole dying thing sucked. "I'd fix it for you if I could, kiddo."

Something in the tone, in the intense yearning reflected from the moss green depths had Sam's heart clenching. It was the simple truth of the words. The sincerity of the emotion behind them. Even in the darkest moments, Dean's thoughts weren't for himself, but for Sam.

And wasn't that just God-like of him.

Maybe Jake was right. God was in those moments-the ones in which you saw and felt completely sheltered and safe and whole. The times when you knew you were not alone-could never be alone-as long as someone loved you that much. As long as you loved them that much right back.

A hint of a dimple winked on Sam's cheek. His mouth twitched. "So...you'll stay with me?"

Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling, some how seeming to recall the familiar words, and miraculously answering in kind. "Let's see someone try and stop me."

"Thanks, Dean."

“You're welcome, little brother.” Dean licked his lips. “Now go to sleep, because you look like shit, Francis.”

Sam laughed, shook his head. "That wasn't very God-like."

"Excuse me?" Dean raised a brow.

Sam stood, pulled the covers up over his brother, despite the disgusted snort of protest. He even went so far as to ghost his hand over Dean's hair. "Nothing. Get some rest."

"Where are you going?"

The younger Winchester shrugged into his jacket. "An old friend gave me an idea about how to help you." Jake had told Sam to have faith. It held the power to heal. Maybe Sam would do just that. After all, if he could find God in his dying brother's hospital room, maybe another miracle was just around the corner.

"You'll be back?" Dean asked sleepily, his eyes blinking a few times, as if they were becoming impossible to hold open.

Sam rested his hand on the other man's chest, feeling the uneven beat of the heart beneath his fingers. "You know it. And I’ll bring you a kick-ass expensive get well present, too.”

“No balloons,” Dean said, seriously. “I will never forgive you if I see one bobbing, helium-filled piece of Mylar anywhere near me.”

So his brother didn’t remember everything from that time in Morgana. He squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll be back.” Sam remembered the most important part. The part where Dean had saved him.

Sam was going to return the favor.

THE END
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