Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a working vehicle. He was in the far back corner, the fourth bench seat of a family-style van crammed with newly freed and shell-shocked survivors of the Cheyenne Club. It was quiet with trauma, men and women whispering and crying quietly as they softly moved around to get comfortable. Sam had his arm around Jack who'd fallen aphonic and clammy against him. Everything was damp: around four in the morning it had begun to shower and it still drizzled. Sam just gazed at the seat back in front of him. It was worn and stretched out leather the color of granite with a faint odor of mildew.

Sam shifted in his seat, pulled and tugged on the light blue scrubs he'd been given, pushed his hair over his face as much as he could to hide it. He closed his eyes to lose himself in the light rain splashing over the roof and windows, the heat rushing in through the van's vents, the rhythmic windshield wipers flipping back and forth. The wipers in particular were like a pendulum in a clock counting down to when someone would get behind the wheel of their van and deliver them to a human camp. From there Sam and Jack would make their escape. They would go back to scavenging the husks of empty and destroyed towns and cities.

Sam swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded to himself with resolve.

At least he'd have Jack.

"Sam, I touched Castiel. I saw his intentions. He wants to take me away."

"What? Where?"

"Separate, different from where everybody else is going. Sam, please. I wanna stay with you," Jack beseeched, tugging Sam's arm.

"Okay, okay Jack. We'll figure it out. Give me a second." Sam twisted, looking for Dean. The werewolf was talking to the angel, standing at ease, a smile playing on his face. Sam felt the most shallow pangs of jealousy. It was a useless sentiment now. He'd never get more time with Dean again because as far as he could see his only two options were to escape with Jack or risk losing him to wherever Castiel wanted to take him. Since Dean and Castiel were such allies - even good friends, it seemed - Sam could hardly believe Dean would turn on the angel just so Sam could keep Jack.

There was no competition. Jack came first. Sam blinked through the tears that threatened to spill. He couldn't spare them when he had to think fast and figure out how to get them away.

"Okay. We have to split up," Sam concluded.

Sam and Jack were passing well as humans so far, all the real humans who knew them were nodding along and willing to keep their secret. It was the first time Sam and Jack had realized how much they'd been respected and appreciated by the other innocents imprisoned and enslaved.

Sam pulled a dry protein bar out of a plastic bag of snacks that was getting passed around. He wiped his eyes with his palm and started unwrapping it. He tugged on Jack's raggedy hood as the kid shivered and snugged in closer. Sam squeezed him tight and let his gaze drift down to the van's floor, wet with mud and pebbles, ineffective foot mats strewn all around more likely to trip people than anything. He took a bite of the protein bar and it was the most delicious thing he'd had in three years.

"What?" Jack croaked. "No, we're not splitting up! I just got you-"

"Jack, listen to me. Get down to the north wing with the humans and stay there. When they come to free you, I'll find you."

Jack shook his head frantically, his eyes tearing up. "Sam, just come with me. Please."

"I can't. I won't," Sam swallowed. He opened his mouth to explain why but stopped, locking up over what to say. Sam wanted this battle. Deep inside him surfacing along with his freedom Sam was craving to annihilate these wicked, perverse bastards that had enslaved them for years. He yearned to raze this complex down until it was nothing but a hopeless blackened smoking crater as deep as the bunker could go.

But he couldn't tell Jack. Jack was too brave and eager; he'd be too fast to agree, too fast to claim that was what he wanted too. Sam knew he didn't though. Jack held a curiously small capacity for vengeance and anyway Sam wanted Jack safe.

"I… I need to find Ruby," Sam lied. It was plausible though. Ruby was a slave and the two of them had been easy on each other. Then she'd betrayed him to a client named Lucifer. Sam suppressed a shiver at the memory. Luckily the client had never returned. Sam and Ruby had never spoken again.

Jack had no idea about any of that though. Sam never told him what happened.

"I… still care about her. I'll make sure she's okay and then I'll come to you wherever you are. I promise, Jack."

Jack clenched his jaw, eyes watery but determined.

"Okay," Jack gritted out.

"Okay," Sam replied. He cupped the side of Jack's face reassuringly. "Good."

It still struck Sam how Jack was still more a child than anything. How he'd managed to keep that innocence in this environment was a miracle. Maybe that was the nephilim in him.

When Jack left, Sam knew he'd be safe and that was the only thing giving him solace now because he could barely look at Castiel or Dean knowing he and Jack would be taking off to live as they had before. Living off the scraps and debris of a near-decimated species' haunted dwellings. Living like Dean had never happened to Sam, like Dean hadn't so strongly reminded him of his kin and home for the first time in seventeen years. Sam hadn't known how much hope Dean had been building in him since they met. Now that it was taken from him, he knew.

Sam's eyes brimmed with tears. He quickly shifted into his feline form.

They still had a job to do.

Once the fighting was essentially over in the club, Sam had slinked away outside to prowl the periphery of the parking lot along the edge of the woods that surrounded the compound. He patiently waited for the survivors to file out so he could find Jack and reunite. He found himself bearing witness to a totally unexpected scene as a result.

His night vision helped him watch in awe as the parking lot filled with emergency and transport vehicles overflowing with people - mostly weres, Sam surmised with his snout - wearing reflective orange and yellow vests. They hastily raised giant canopies in the rain. The finished ones had workers setting up collapsible hard plastic tables underneath the tarps, other workers carried boxes upon boxes of relief items to throw on them. A few workers were going from box to box ripping them open and tipping them over to spill their contents onto the tables so people could quickly identify and grab whatever they needed. The strong scent of wet canine musk wafted out leaving Sam both amused and aching to be reminded of Dean in such a tangible way.

Mud was already getting everywhere and by the time survivors began streaming out of the club's main entrance, all the workers had been drenched by moon-kissed rain.

The first twenty or so survivors came out squinting and stumbling over the muddy gravel on bare feet, holding their hands up against all the flashing lights not knowing what to do or what was expected of them. None of them spoke or fussed. They just stopped short of the help before them, all standing shaking in the predawn rain. They were a medley of scents, the most prominent one a sour tang of fear and despair lifting off with the wind. Sam shuddered as he remembered having that smell on him too.

Tears fell unbidden as Sam watched the medics and aids descend upon them with such delicate care, approaching them with open arms and soft words of reassurance, promises of safety as they placed blankets around their shoulders and guided them to an ambulance or a tent to get food, clean water, shoes, and whatever else. Sam was overwhelmed to witness it, to see the kindness he'd seen in Dean only on a scale like this. He'd never thought he was much of a cynic but he never would've believed this if anyone had told him it existed. He caught sight of Jack coming out and searching the darkness of the woods, trying to see past the heavy fog.

Sam shifted and stumbled towards the camp, intent to get to Jack.

"Hey kiddo, easy now," an older man's voice rumbled and Sam looked up, startled. They were on the edge of the camp. The man was slightly out of breath and Sam figured the man had spotted him and run over to help. He was wearing a heavy knit sweater, jeans and a ball cap, all of which smelled like a sanctuary of whiskey, books, and automotive steel. "My name's Bobby, can you come with me? We'll get some clothes on ya, son," he reached his hand out. Sam's faced screwed up and nodded, limply taking Bobby's hand. He wept quietly as he let Bobby lead him to a tent, let himself be the traumatized victim for just a few minutes as they clothed him and wrapped him in a thick wool blanket that he gripped against his chest with white knuckles.

He couldn't believe it was all over. And he couldn't believe after seeing all this - all the resources Dean and his pack had, all the generosity and compassion - Sam was just going to abandon it.

But Jack was more important.

Sam sniffed and regained composure as much as he could. He was like a ghost rising up from where he'd been seated. It was so chaotic nobody stopped him from leaving the tent and he barely registered Amethyst entering, her red eyes bright with devastated tears too.

Sam found Jack and the kid had latched on to him like a magnet, refusing to pull away, and Sam didn't mind in the least. Jack was warm and stabilizing and as long as Sam could focus on his protective instincts for Jack he wouldn't have to break down any further than he already had.

Everyone was so dazed and susceptible that nobody objected to the glaring red flag of getting shuffled into groups by species. Luckily the pack was transparent and honest, reassuring everyone it was so they could go to the right species camps that'd take care of them properly. Sam and Jack got confirmed as humans with the human survivors' help and they'd ended up herded into this minivan. Twenty minutes later more members of the Marrow Pack visited the van to pass out additional relief items. Bags of bottled water and nutrient bars, more shock blankets and clothing.

Jack had to lean away from Sam for a second while Sam threw on another shirt. He was still chilly despite the heat from the vents. He resumed eating the protein bar, its taste still incredible.

Just then two heavy knocks on the van's door startled those near it before it clicked and slid open.

"Sorry, sorry," the good-natured voice called. Sam looked up and realized it was Bobby. The man was scanning everyone starting at the front. "Okay uh, you," he pointed at a guy in the second bench seat, "you, you," he picked two on the third seat, "and," Bobby dragged out until he spotted Sam in the far corner, "you. Could y'all come out of the van for a second?"

"Why?" a guy up front asked and Sam was relieved he didn't have to bring attention to himself to ask the same thing.

"We've got some records mixed up with your profiles," Bobby replied easily and held up a clipboard with papers on it, damp with morning dew and spilled coffee. "It'll only take a minute. I'm sorry, but please." Bobby gestured to the space outside.

Sam obeyed with the rest of them. As he struggled to lift from his seat while still crouched low as tall as he was, Jack clutched his arm.

"Okay, it'll be okay," Sam whispered and Jack nodded, letting go. Last minute Sam felt the wool blanket drape over his head and back.

"Thanks Jack," Sam whispered, grabbing the ends and wrapping them around him as he picked his way past legs, newly emptied water bottles and snack wrappers scattering the vehicle's muddy floor.

Bobby offered his hand and Sam took it for balance, trusting the guy who'd been there at his weakest so far.

Or really, he'd been the second man, Sam reminded himself with a pang. He hadn't seen Dean once since the dance floor and he had no idea whether that was good or bad. Maybe Dean had second thoughts; wouldn't even want to see him now he'd seen how savage Sam could be.

Sam jumped down onto the gravel of the club's parking lot and looked around. The sun had technically risen but it remained a dark gray chilly morning, now so thick with fog that Sam couldn't even make out nearby vehicles or tents. He wasn't the only one having trouble with the low visibility. Flashlight beams were everywhere, people still needing and using them to get around in the dense mist.

"Hm," Bobby grunted, looking down at Sam's feet, "you need shoes."

Sam looked at the others and realized they all had some kind of protection on their feet. He shrugged. Bobby's eyes narrowed and Sam realized his mistake: humans were a lot more sensitive. Sam's anxiety ratcheted up but he just kept his eye contact still and steady on Bobby's. He couldn't betray a thing or everything was blown. He'd lose Jack.

Bobby pressed his lips together then turned to the other guys. He went through to confirm their names and they got back into the van until he reached Sam again. Sam held his breath, somehow just knowing Bobby was going to address him differently.

"Didn't get your name - you left the tent before I could."

Sam nodded. "I-I'm sorry."

"It's okay, son," he assured and then left it there.

"It's uh, it's Dante, William Dante," Sam coughed. Bobby frowned with approval, jotted something down on his clipboard. "Got it," he replied lightly, setting it on top of the van. "I'm gonna go get you some shoes.

"Oh no, you don't have-"

"Stop, please," the man interrupted, his voice authoritative but measured. "You want anything else? Food, water, blankets? Coffee, maybe?"

Sam shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine," he gulped. "Thank… thank you." Sam looked him in the eyes now, sincere gratitude coloring them. Bobby gave a sympathetic half-smile in return.

"Okay," Bobby shrugged. "I'll be just a minute. Take it easy," he soothed before turning on his heel. The guy had a heavy gait but left at a quick clip, his bouncing flashlight the last thing to get swallowed up by the fog.

"Okay," Sam murmured, fragile but stable enough. Sam gripped the edges of his blanket tight against his chest. He watched his breath go white as he exhaled into the cool air. He was considering getting back in the van again when he heard the sound of his name, this time by a voice he recognized.

"Sam? Sammy?!"

Sam gasped and stepped backwards against the van. Conflicted, Sam just froze and watched with mounting apprehension. A flashlight beam waved wildly through the fog, its owner obviously running and then Dean emerged, Bobby trailing behind him.

"Dean?" Sam whispered, his eyes watering, the color leeching from his face.

"Sam!" Dean breathed, racing up to him but Sam shied away, clutching his blanket and leaning up closer against the van. Dean had changed clothes to jeans and a Zeppelin band t-shirt, feet bare like Sam's though.

"No, don't…" Sam begged, looking at Dean's outstretched hands welcoming the hug that Sam wished he could accept.

Dean stilled then pulled back graciously.

"Sammy, why'd you leave? Why're you here with the humans?" Dean asked, raising his arm to the van. His voice was pitched like he was pleading, vulnerable, and it brought tears to Sam's eyes. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. Dean stepped forward and gripped Sam's elbows. "Sammy."

Sam took a deep breath and looked into Dean's eyes. "I can't let the angel take Jack away from me."

Dean's imploring expression didn't change from what it'd been. He just stared at Sam dumbly as Sam could practically see the wheels turning in his head before his beautiful features scrunched into pure confusion.

"Sam," Dean winced, "what?" He flicked his head in bafflement.

Sam's eyes glowed with irritation at that. He latched on to the emotion to anchor him. Annoyance served him better than incoherent tears.

"Jack touched Castiel to read his intentions."

"Yeah," Dean dragged out, "I follow."

"Castiel's intentions were good but after this, Jack could tell Castiel wanted to take Jack away."

Dean shook his head, bewildered. "Away where?"

"I don't know!" Sam shouted, shoving Dean back. "Away from me!"

"Sam," Dean pressed, "no. We'd never…" Dean trailed off. "Hold on." Dean closed his eyes.

A light sound of flapping wings and suddenly, "Yes, I believe I could be of some assistance here too," Castiel announced as he walked towards Dean. Just then the van's sliding door opened and Jack jumped out.

"I just saw," he said grimly, pointing at the tinted window from the van. He stepped forward past Sam and faced Cas, strong and unshakable. "I'm not going with you, Castiel."

Sam covered his face with his hands and shook his head, trying to wrap his head around this stand-off. Could they run now? They'd be tracked by well over fifty werewolf aid workers. Could they surrender, get carted away separately and escape later to rendezvous at an agreed upon location? If that were the case Sam should hint the location to Jack right now before they're separat-

"Dean and I live together in a house on the Marrow Packlands. We want both of you to stay with us. For however long you would like to stay with us. We don't want to separate the two of you. Ever."

Sam's hands fell away and he stood there, mouth agape. Jack shuffled his feet uncertainly, looked back to Sam and when Sam had nothing but surprise written on his face, back to the angel.

"Touch me again. You can tell if these intentions are genuine that way." Castiel extended his arm, still dressed in his white silk suit now spattered everywhere with mud. It felt like a sign to Sam, that Castiel so readily destroyed his immaculate, expensive suit - the kind of suits Sam's captors and clients valued so highly - just to help in the mud with the rest of the aid workers.

Sam watched Jack cautiously wrap his hand around the angel's and started praying to Luna Castiel was telling the truth. Cas's eyes darted up to Sam's.

"He's praying," Castiel whispered sideways to Dean and Sam startled, not knowing Cas could hear prayers much less his own as a were. Dean went rigid and Sam could practically taste the urgency to reach for him, to hold him. Sam pressed his lips together, trying hard to keep it together because he wanted that too.

"Yeah, you… you really do want that," Jack pronounced, disbelief evident in his tone.

"I didn't know about Sam, either that he was a werecat whom Dean was planning to bring back to the Marrow Pack or that he was so close to you that you'd want him to accompany you wherever you went after this. I'm sure this is why you were under the impression I would take you and only you away from the other survivors."

Sam let out a repressed sob just as Dean stepped forward and pulled Sam into his arms, wrapping the werecat in the tightest, safest hug, whispering a litany of so many promises of shelter and care that Sam's throat closed up and he finally let go.

He didn't even realize he was half-shifting claws out of the tips of his fingers to clutch Dean tighter. He nuzzled into Dean's neck for his scent. Dean was getting emotional too but he never stopped talking, never stopped holding him. "I've got you. You're okay, Sammy. Everything's gonna be all right, sweetie."

Sam gave a wet laugh and leaned back to look at the werewolf. Their eyes searched each other before Sam closed his and leaned in, pressing his lips to Dean's. He tasted like he smelled. Mountain air and petrichor… with amusing hints of beer, dark chocolate and sweet cherries. It made Sam want for the first time in far more than just three years.

Dean tensed at first but loosened and returned the chaste kiss. Without a doubt things were going to get complicated again but not in this moment. In this moment everything was easy, effortless.

They parted with brilliant smiles, their eyes radiant.

Fin

A/N: So I would be lying if I said I didn't have some half-formed time-stamp scenes off in the wings. Let me know if you guys would be into that and I might complete+publish some of them while I'm renovating my old fic Trialculosis Sam and writing the end of it by July 31, 2019 (fingers crossed!).

I want you guys to be aware that my artist's pseud, Midnight Silver (whose brilliant art for this fic is at archiveofourown dot org slash works slash 19068466 if you didn't catch it from all my other author's notes), is featured in the alpha (first) chapter title and mine is in the omega (last) chapter title here and then my sister was my beta soooo there is the a/b/o missing in this fic! lol. For the record I am totally cool with a/b/o dynamics. It's just not where I personally wanted to go with this fic. Maybe later down the road, who knows ;)

Thank you again to my brilliant crazy talented artist, my voracious reader of a sister, and the most chill and generous mods ever. And thank you to YOU, readers! Your kudos and comments give me LIFE!

SPN Dystopia Bang RULES!