Author's Notes: So the wall in Sam's head is weakening and the boys both know it. He wanders off sometimes, away from Dean, and never remembers any of the lost time. How would Dean handle some of the repercussions of that and how will Sam take the measures he puts in place to keep Sam safe?

Summary: Dean gets Sam a present, which is weird enough already. When Sam sees what the present is, the initial amusement wears off quickly. Season 6.

Weighed Down

Sam eyed the bag on the bed suspiciously.

"Just open it, idiot."

His brother's impatience rolled off Sam's back and he reached out slowly.

"Is it going to explode?"

"No."

"Implode?"

"No."

"Is something gonna bite me or make me itchy or-"

"Just open it, dammit!"

Reaching into the bottom of the bag, Sam pulled out a small box.

"Aw, Dean, you shouldn't have."

"Sammy, I swear to god-"

"Fine, fine."

Taking the top off the box caused two things to happen. Dean began fidgeting nervously and Sam's eyebrows tried to meet his hairline. Sam held the offending article up in front of his face like he was evaluating an alien life form.

"…You got me a bracelet?"

Sam subtly began glancing around the room for the salt or the silver knife or something cause he was pretty sure he was gonna have to kill whatever the hell this thing posing as his brother was.

"It's not-" Dean huffs and looks anywhere but Sam- "It's not jewelry, okay? It's more like…a Sammy LoJack."

And he's squirming so much that Sam stops thinking of how a shifter could have gotten to his brother and starts smiling at his clearly uncomfortable, clearly very real sibling. Sam starts laughing as pink dusts Dean's cheeks. He shakes his head amusedly as he examines the gift.

"What- Dean, what is this?" Sam turns the chain of metal links over in his hands and notices that the plate on the front can be slid over, which he does. The smile drops quickly off his face. This is…

"Dean, why's my name on this? And yours and Bobby's contact information?" Sam's not amused anymore and he notes that Dean's not squirming anymore either, just looking at him with his brow pinched in worry. Sam spots the tiny battery that he bets connects to a GPS locator and now Sam's somewhere between anger andhurt. He looks up at Dean, shaking the bracelet in his clenched fist.

"Dean, what is this?" Dean takes a breath and prepares for a fight.

"It's just ID. I'm the only one that can activate the GPS-"

"It's a tracker!" Sam's on his feet. "Mothers give these to their four-year-olds when they go to the playground! Or-or older people that just wander off!"

Sam's not entirely sure why his eyes are stinging.

"What the hell are you thinking, Dean?"

In a move that's so not his brother that it throws him for a moment, Dean just waits for Sam to finish saying his piece before meeting his eyes again.

"It's not just for that." Dean's voice is calculated and Sam immediately knows that this is something he's practiced saying a few times before getting back to the motel room. "It's just in case we get separated or I lose track of you-"

"I'm not a child!"

"-or someone finds you-"

"How could you even-"

"-or you get lost."

And Sam shuts up when Dean's voice breaks on the last word. That's what this is about.

He'd only had one more seizure since that first time in Bristol, but the spaces of missing time and confusion were getting longer and more frequent. Neither of them knew what set off an episode, but Dean had woken up or come back to the car more than once to find Sam just gone.

He could usually track him down pretty fast, but he couldn't snap Sam out of it. It was like his brother couldn't hear him. He'd follow where Dean led, calm when Dean spoke to him, but he'd never remember anything when he reconnected with reality.

All Sam could say when Dean asked him what he remembered was that he 'got lost', and couldn't find which direction to go.

They'd both tried valiantly to gloss over the incidents; denial, the Winchester family way, but Sam knew how it affected his brother. Knew it shook him up, maybe even more so than Sam himself.

Looking at Dean right now, head bowed a bit, clenching and unclenching his teeth, trying not to let the tears leave his eyes, Sam knew that this was as much for Dean as it was him.

And Sam would never deny his brother anything he could give, beg, or steal.

Taking a deep breath, Sam sat back down on the bed and unclenched his fist.

"You couldn't have gotten a cool color? Like blue or black or something?"

Dean's head snapped up and Sam saw the raw gratitude and relief all across his face for a moment before it was back to business as usual. Dean threw Sam a teasing smile and shrugged.

"I could see if they have hot pink."

They had to mock it, the situation was too dire for anything less because anything less meant acknowledging the problem existed, making it seem like an inevitability. Like it was only going to get worse and they were accepting that.

No, neither of them could handle that right now. Maybe not ever.

Glad of the tension clearing the room, Sam opened the clasp and tried to hook it around his wrist. Of course he couldn't get it, but Dean let him flounder for a bit before swooping in with a sly smirk and taking the link and clasp in his own hands.

"Great dexterity, Sam."

"Shut up."

Dean fixed the bracelet around Sam's wrist securely.

"You're welcome."

"I didn't say thank you."

"I said it for you in my head because I know how awesome you think I am."

Sam threw Dean a look and heaved a long-suffering sigh. A moment later Sam was throwing the wrappings away and Dean was bugging him about what he wanted from that little Chinese place down the street.

Sam thought the new weight on his arm should feel awful, should feel like the chain that it was, dragging him down into the cold and unknown.

But to Sam, looking at Dean, finally standing back with him side by side for as long as the both of them were breathing, it felt like his brother's love and concern personified.

It felt like a tether, leading him home.