Dean gasped his relief, feeling the small puff of air with his palm hovering over Sam's mouth. He gripped the side of Sam's face, his fingers threading through his brother's damp hair.

"Good, good Sammy, now you gotta wake up for me," Dean's voice cracked as he pulled his brother up higher against him. Sam's neck was limp as Dean angled him in the crook of his elbow and leaned forward.

"C'mon Sam, wake up for me now, gotta wake up," he whispered, his face barely an inch from Sam's. A small shiver and jolt ran through Sam's body. Dean responded with his free arm wrapping more tightly around Sam's waist.

"Sam-?"

Sam's body gave another jerk and Dean held him.

"Sam wake up!" Dean ordered harshly.

Sam's eyes moved beneath their lids.

"Good, Sammy, c'mon," Dean coaxed as Sam's lids briefly lifted, then shut, then tried again.

"You can do it. Wake up, wake up," Dean whispered desperately, pulling him in closer. Sam's shoulders curved in and angled towards his brother.

"De-" Sam rasped and Dean exhaled.

"Yeah I'm right here, right here, little brother," he whispered, starting to rock him in his arms.

"Dean," Sam finally got out, opening his eyes to slits. He stared up at Dean, his eyes wet, his pale, gaunt face covered in sweat. Dean nodded and brushed Sam's hair off his face.

"You're done. It's finished. You're all done, Sammy," he said softly, leaning down and touching his forehead against Sam's as he tucked his brother against him. Sam reached up weakly and Dean felt the slow grasp tightening on the fabric of his shirt.

"It's over... It's over," Dean repeated, still swaying them. He blinked when he felt Sam shift minutely and lifted up to look at him. Sam stared up at him dully but his eyes remained fixed on his brother as Dean held him. Dean pushed his hand against Sam's neck and cheek, the side of his head.

"You did so good, Sammy," Dean whispered, using his thumbs to brush more dirt off Sam's face. At the touch Sam cringed and tilted his head down against Dean's chest to choke a quiet sob. The trials had taken their toll, marking Sam with symptoms that were best likened to terminal illness and the torture he'd just endured... Sam was certain he was broken until Dean's words had started to sink in. It's over. You're done. It's finished. Dean's reassurances were ripping him apart so he could be put back together and everything felt overwhelming; everything hurt.

Dean curved over Sam and placed his hand on the back of Sam's head, anticipating the meltdown.

"I know... I know, it's okay. You get a pass on this one, man, c'mon," Dean said roughly, hefting his little brother up. Sam gasped and began to shake against Dean's chest. His feet weakly scuffed the floor as he bent them in towards his brother and Dean let him curl in.

"You're done... It's done. You're okay," Dean whispered as he wrapped his arms around him and hunched over. He moved his hand to brace Sam's back, effectively covering his trembling little brother from outside eyes. Sam's hands pressed and weakly gripped Dean's shirt as he tried to keep his cries quiet. Dean leaned down, almost pressing his lips against Sam's ear.

"I gotchya. It's over, Sammy," he said over his brother's labored breathing and gave him a simple kiss against the temple. Sam let out a small whimper and gave a feeble nod against Dean's chest. Dean rocked them back and forth, feeling his Sam's tears and sweat dampening his shirt. Dean just held his shivering little brother tighter and bent his head low against Sam's, a silent gesture of solidarity and affection as Sam struggled with the overflow. He started rubbing Sam's back lightly.

"Are you hurt?" he whispered.

"N-no," Sam's voice cracked, breathing heavily. His grip around Dean tightened and Dean kept moving his hand against Sam's back soothingly.

"Good. That's good, Sammy," he replied calmly. "Can I take you out of here?"

Dean felt Sam start to take deeper breaths against him. His whole body still quivering from the final trial's effects, he still tried to get himself under control for Dean.

"Y-yeah," he quavered.

At that, Sam felt Dean move his arms around his upper back and knew his brother didn't want to waste time getting them out of there. Before he could bring his feet out from under him he felt his big brother pull him up.

Sam knew he'd lost weight but it hadn't occurred to him that he'd become so thin that Dean could hold him this easily. He keened at the move in surprise and grew dizzy as he reached full height.

"Easy, Sammy, easy. I gotchya," Dean murmured, enveloping Sam in another embrace, only this time it was for stability. "I gotchya, just hold on to me," he continued, and Sam leaned in closer, still trembling. He fought for steady breath over Dean's shoulder, blinking out at their surroundings with red, blood-shot eyes.

The angels stood apart from one another and watched, silently reverent and now honored to have borne witness. Kevin still stood in the back, stunned and worried for Sam.

Sam was too fragile and much too tired to be embarrassed. He'd endured all three trials and been tortured by speared shafts of light that'd felt like steel as they'd pierced in and through his body.

As if reading his mind, Dean started rubbing the spot in his back exactly where the spear's wound would've been. Sam's breath hitched and released slowly, lowering his gaze to the floor to focus on Dean's comforting presence; letting his big brother overwrite the sense-memory of the spear with a gesture that harkened back to his childhood.

The angels couldn't do anything: the final trial had required their combined grace, which they'd willingly given. The angels couldn't cure him of this. They were mortal now. Sam had reached every limit and there was no going back. There was nothing any of them knew that could heal this. They could only hope it would solve itself.

But as Sam realized he could barely stand without Dean's arms around him, it helped. Dean was going to take the reins now. Dean had him; Dean made things okay. He always did, so why not believe in that now?

Sam closed his eyes and felt tears roll down his face. He sniffed and wrapped his arms tighter around his big brother.

"C'mon, Sammy," Dean whispered, eventually turning to get on Sam's side. He grabbed Sam's arm as he wrapped the other around his waist and started small, slow steps towards the doors. Sam's head hung against his chest limply, his steps dragged, his knees almost buckled, but Dean held onto him. Dean wouldn't let go.

A fraction of a second later Sam felt a gentle presence on his other side. Before he could look he felt his other arm getting lifted and wrapped around shoulders for further support. He squinted over and dropped his head back down, his body still shaking with the aftershock.

"Th-thanks C-Cas," Sam rasped at the floor. He made an effort when they stepped outside the church.

"Sam, you're going to be okay. God wouldn't have created these trials if..." Cas trailed off. "You will heal," he finished. Sam tried to nod in response but gave a sharp inhale instead as they got to the first step down to the ground.

"Cas let's just get him to the car, okay?" Dean ordered. Castiel acquiesced and remained silent, carrying the man that had just rendered his grace a pale comparison.

They made it to the Impala. Dean opened the passenger seat and turned back to Sam.

"Okay c'mere," Dean whispered, reaching his arms out and letting Sam take them and stumble forward into him a little bit. "C'mon bend your knees," Dean muttered, pulling Sam down so he'd take the hint to turn and sit. Just as Sam was going down, he felt Dean's gentle hand on his head protecting him from the roof's lip. Sam sat down and leaned his face against the worn leather interior. He closed his eyes, feeling better now that he was in the Impala. Dean grabbed his legs and deftly set them into the seat well before shutting the door closed and walking to the other side.

Halfway there, he stopped and looked up, realizing Metatron, Kevin and Castiel were all outside watching anxiously.

"Dean... is he going to be okay?" Kevin asked solicitously. Dean furrowed his brows and pursed his lips.

"Yes."

Metatron gave a tiny satisfied smile and nodded, folding his arms over his chest.

Dean winced, considering the now-mortal angels and their paranoid prophet, then rolled his eyes at the roster. He glanced at Cas, who looked carefree yet expectant, willing to receive Dean's next words with a faith he'd earned.

"Get in the car," Dean ordered, waving at all of them without a backwards glance and getting into the driver's seat. He slammed the door and waited half a second before Kevin opened the door behind Sam and clambered in.

"Kevin grab the blanket from the back," Dean asked, starting the engine just as Castiel got into the middle of the bench seat, followed closely by Metatron. Kevin reached the blanket forward. Dean took it and flipped it out over Sam.

Sam jerked, surprised, but settled when he realized what it was. Dean patted the blanket around his pale brother but Sam raised an arm over to vaguely reach for Dean.

Dean took it without hesitation, squeezed, and let go to brush the wet hair out of Sam's eyes before shifting the car and speeding the hell out of there.

The trials were done.

Dean was taking Sam home.

Writer's Note: Aww and so here was the blubbery schmoop h/c fall out, lol. Thank you so much for reading - please comment/review if you can spare a second. Thank you again! ~ Alex