A/N: Just a reminder of the Fanfic authors convention in July. I hope you all can make it! (If not, I hope you'll mention it to other SPN (and NCIS) fans.) All the info can be found at www(dot)xenascully(dot)com.

Thanks!

"Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to." John Ed Pearce

SPN*SPN*SPN

Cas had Sam's soul, all ready to pop back in, nice and neat and tortured for two hundred years down in the Cage. I took us to Bobby's house for Cas to do the honors, because Sammy getting his soul back could twist him up so many ways and I didn't want to have to cobble together any help he needed in some no-tell motel dive.

So we were at Bobby's, in the library. Sam was in the desk chair in front of the cold fireplace, looking calm, cool, and 'let's just get this the hell over with before I change my mind.' Cas was in front of him, Bobby was next to Cas, and I was next to Sam.

I really thought Sam would scream. Not from the sensation of being 're-souled', but from the tidal wave of emotions I expected it to bring with. The torture down under, sure, but also all the things he'd seen and done and not felt since he came back. I thought it would be overwhelming. I expected it to be overwhelming, crushing, devastating. Some part of me I think wanted it to be, so that I'd know that I had Sammy back.

But he didn't scream.

Cas put his hands on Sam's chest and a less-glowy-than-angels-glow poured out of Sam's eyes and mouth and pores, and he stiffened in the chair and his head pulled back. But that was it. When the glowy stopped glowing and Cas stepped back, Sam slumped and shuddered and went pale. After a really deep breath, he lifted his head and looked around, stopping when he found me.

"Can we go now?" He asked, as though we'd been interrupted in the middle of a conversation that he was picking up again.

"Go where?" I asked and crouched down next to the chair. Unless he was talking about going upstairs for a nice, long nap, we weren't going anywhere.

He looked around again, noticeably avoiding looking at Cas or Bobby. He stopped looking around when he got to me again.

"Can we go now? Please?" He added that last like he was trying out verbal strategies.

"Go where, Sam?" Maybe he just didn't want to be around Bobby or Cas. Maybe the house had bad memories for him. Maybe he was scared something was coming after him here.

He looked around again, and there was some desperation building up in the movement. I wondered what he was looking for.

"Home? I'd like to go home. Now. Please?" His words were coming out stiff, like he was getting used to talking again, or – or like things were piled up too high in his head to get everything out smoothly.

"Home? Where's home?"

In front of us, Bobby was getting a little restless and Cas was – well, Cas. He stood there, staring at Sam like he was watching for him to hatch or something. Sam kept looking around and then looking at me.

"Home, Dean. Home. It's – it's – ." He shrugged vaguely toward the front door, and I tried to figure out what he might mean. The motel we left behind in Buffalo Gap? The motel before that? Some crazy place stuck in his head that he thought was home?

Just as I was going to ask him to clarify me a little more clearly, he pressed his hands on the top of his head and squeezed his eyes shut and got a look on his face like he had the Mother of All Headaches.

"I can't think. Dean – can you - ? You need to -. Think. Dean. Please."

And then he folded himself in half and my panic went off the charts. I grabbed his shoulders and tried to turn him so I could see his face, but he wouldn't look at me. He only kept holding onto his head.

"Sam? Cas - what's wrong with him? Sammy? C'mon. Look at me, what is it?"

Cas took a step or two towards Sam and leaned down like he was trying to get a better look at him.

"It's overwhelming him."

Gee, y'think? Okay, I took back wanting outward proof that Sammy was Sammy. Let him be okay. Just let him be okay.

"Sam? C'mon. Look at me. Talk to me. What? Where do you need to go, Sam? Where's home? Sammy – I'll take you anywhere you want, I just need to know where."

Everything got real quiet. Too quiet, even Sam. Even his rough breathing was quiet, like he was trying to keep himself not-noticeable.

"I can't think, Dean. My head's going to crack open and I can't think. Can you? Dean? Please?"

Can I what? Think for him? Okay. Sure, I'd give it a shot. I put my hands over his hands on his head.

"Okay, Sam. I'll think for you. C'mon. Your head's okay. I've got it, it won't bust open. You can let go."

He pulled his hands off but kept his head down and his eyes shut. I moved my hands to his shoulders.

"Okay. So – home?"

Sam nodded.

"First step is to go outside?"

He nodded again.

"Can you stand up ?"

"I think so. Yeah. Yeah, I can."

So, he stood. And sat. And stood again. I gave a glance to Bobby & Cas that they should give us some room. Bobby stepped back. Cas kept looking at Sam like he was afraid Sam was about to collapse - which maybe he was - and like Cas wanted to be there to do something about it. Which wasn't going to happen as long as I was anywhere near Sam.

Like on the same planet.

"It's okay, we've got it." I said to Cas.

It took a long moment until he finally stepped back, and he still looked ready to move in if he had to.

"All right, Sammy. This is all yours; just let me know what you need me to do."

He still had that pinched, in-pain look on his face, but he was staying upright, if a little hunched.

"Out - out -"

"Outside?" I supplied for him.

"Yeah. Outside. I want to go home." He gave me that searching, trusting look that could make me feel totally awesome or totally helpless, depending on the circumstances. "You'll take me home, right?"

"Hey, if we can drive there, we can get there. Right?"

I thought that would be a safe answer, but Sam looked at me like I might be going crazy.

"Okay." He said, but he said it like he wasn't sure what I was talking about.

"Okay." I echoed him. I put my arm across his back and waited for him to start walking, wondering if he'd be able to GPS us wherever it was he thought he wanted to go. It took another minute for Sam to find his feet and get them moving.

While we were moving, slowly, I did a quick mental review. Everything was still in the car because I'd been so anxious to get Sammy re-souled, I didn't stop to do anything but get him in the house in the chair in front of Cas. So, wherever we were headed, we were packed and ready with everything we needed.

We cleared the library door and turned in the hallway to the front door. The farther we walked, or maybe the closer we got to the door, the stronger Sam seemed to get. He walked a little quicker, he stood a little straighter. He even reached for the knob first and opened the door for us to get outside.

Behind us, I could hear Bobby and Cas keeping pace, watching us. Sam only seemed concentrated on getting where he wanted us to be going, 'home', wherever and whatever that was. It would be interesting to find out what he had in mind.

As soon as we made it to the porch, Sam took a deep, deep breath of air, and letting it out again seemed to loosen a lot of the tension I'd been feeling across his back as we walked out there. There in front of us, right where I'd left her not twenty minutes before, was the Impala.

"Thanks. Thanks for doing this for me." Sam said to me then.

"Just don't ask me to listen to your IPod music on the way there." I told him. But, hey, we both knew I'd listen to anything he wanted. But he gave me that look again like I was confusing him. A lot.

Okay, whatever. Just back from hell, things were bound to be a little confusing. We'd deal.

We got down the steps and Sam opened the passenger door and got in. He didn't shut the door though; he only sank into the seat with a really deep sigh and closed his eyes. Confused and exhausted. We could still deal. I shut his door and got in behind the wheel. Sam didn't open his eyes or tell me what direction to head.

"Okay, Sammy. Where do you want to go? Where's home?"

He opened his eyes and gave me another 'what are you talking about?' look, but it didn't last long before it morphed into an amused, knowing grin, and I wondered what was up.

"Right here." he said. "Home's right here."

Then he closed his eyes again, and sank into the seat a little more.

And all of a sudden had a hard time breathing and swallowing.

Bobby and Cas were on the porch watching us. I waved them off. Bobby smiled, he got it right off, but Cas looked perplexed. I think Bobby might've been explaining it to him as he tugged Cas back inside.

When they were gone, I turned the key so I could turn on the radio, and found the local rock station. Then I put my head back and closed my eyes and rested there next to my little brother for the first time in too long.

Yep, Sammy was right. We were home.

The end.