Sam was in the junk food aisle, trying to fend off the mental, physical, and emotional exhaustion that threatened to overwhelm him, at least long enough to get the right stuff.

"Sam?"

He knew that voice. He turned, blinking, to find Jody Mills and Alex watching him with concerned consternation.

"Hey, Jody," he said, mustering a tired smile. "I didn't know you were in town."

"Yeah, we decided to come check on you two. Thought I'd bring you some groceries, since I know you don't stock up on the fresh stuff as often as you'd like. Dean here, or are you doing the food run solitary?"

"Just me. Dean's . . . back at the bunker. Cas too. You haven't met Cas yet, have you?"

"Nope. My first angel," Jody said, smiling. But Sam could see that the longer they talked, the more worried she got. It had always been easier to let his guard down around Jody, and he'd been barely holding it together as it was. Still, if he was going to have a break-down, he really didn't want it to be in the middle of the grocery store.

"So, Alex, how's things?" he asked the teenager, trying to get the focus away from himself.

"OK. You look like shit," she said bluntly. His answering smile at her unabashed honesty might've been the most genuine one in weeks.

"Yeah, it's, uh, it's been a rough few weeks. But we're coming out of the woods now."

"So this is like the rock bottom before you start climbing out, then? Shopping for food you don't even like with no help and a bad shoulder?"

"Pretty much."

"Your brother doesn't deserve you."

Sam was taken aback by the direction the conversation had taken. "Alex, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not blind, Sam. Between what happened when you all saved me, talking to you, and what Jody's told me, I've put a lot of pieces together. And one of the basics I know is that you're not big on junk food, but that's what you're here to buy. You look like shit, but you're here alone. So something big went down, and now it's over, and you're taking care of Dean, making sure he has his comforts. But who's taking care of you?"

Without waiting for an answer, Alex started walking down the aisle, pulling things off the shelf and tossing them into Sam's basket.

"Kid's got a point," Jody said softly.

"Jody—"

"Look, I know better than to stick my nose in with you and Dean. But we're coming over, you're going to sit down someplace comfy, and I'm gonna make you some food. Anything you wanna tell me, I'll listen, anything you don't, I won't pry. Fair enough?"

Sam knew better than to argue. "Fair enough."

"OK, that should be enough, right?" Alex asked, joining them.

"I was gonna get some stuff from the deli. Fried chicken or something," he told her.

Alex rolled her eyes spectacularly, and Sam was forcefully reminded of himself at her age.

Jody and Alex insisted on giving Sam a ride back to the bunker, pointing out his shoulder and his exhaustion as more than enough reason for him to avoid driving. When they passed Cas' ridiculous pimp car parked by the side of the road near the bunker, Sam saw that it was empty and hoped that meant Hannah had taken him up on his offer to go inside. Cas was his friend, and he was grateful he'd arrived when he did, but the guy's empathy skills could use some serious work.

Cas and Hannah met them in the garage and helped carry the groceries in. Sam took Dean the food he'd bought for him. Dean thanked him gruffly, but seemed eager to be left alone. Sam understood that: Dean had never had to come back from something like this before. He was still processing, and Sam was too tired to make the effort to help.

Alex accosted him as soon as he left Dean's room. "Alex, what—?" was all he managed as she dragged him to his own room and shoved him onto the couch he had set up for movie nights.

"Do you have a preference, or are you too exhausted and I should just pick for you?" she asked, pointing to his small collection of DVDs.

"Alex, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I—"

"Was planning on getting drunk by yourself, yeah, the angel told us. You probably earned the drink, though you'll have to get past Jody on that one, but we're not leaving you alone. C'mon, when was the last time you had completely free reign to pick the movie? On second thought, given how much your brother reminds me of my brothers, maybe don't answer that."

"Jody's rubbing off on you," Sam told her wearily.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It is for my plans of lonely drunkenness."

"Movie. Pick."

"Return of the King."

"Nice. Knew you had good taste." She put in the disc and flopped onto the couch next to him.

They were joined by Jody, Cas, Hannah, and an impressive spread of mostly vegetables about forty-five minutes into the movie. Sam didn't think he was hungry until he actually started eating, but then he found that he was ravenous. He remembered vaguely that regular meals had been pretty low on his list of priorities ever since the night Metatron killed Dean, and realized that that was probably contributing to just how wrecked he was feeling now that it was over and he had Dean back.

Jody had brought beer for herself and him, but he found he was content with just the one, and was much more appreciative of the tea she made after they were all done with the food.

He found himself drifting in and out of sleep as Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli traversed the Paths of the Dead, and decided not to fight it. He was surrounded by pretty much all the friends he had in the world, and Dean was home safe. Dean was home safe. Dean was . . . home . . . safe . . .

When she saw that Sam had fallen asleep, Jody grabbed the blanket from his bed and tucked it carefully around him where he half-lay curled on the couch, and Alex turned down the movie's volume. None of the four of them suggested leaving the room: even Hannah seemed to understand that Sam Winchester had been alone long enough.