likethegun | A motel room in Denver, late Wednesday afternoon

The past day and a half had been very good, and while Sam wasn't particularly impressed with the motel he'd found to crash in the night before, it was good enough for a place to relax while he had the chance. At the moment, he was sprawled out on the bed, checking to see if there was anything even remotely entertaining on the television.

	Peter had a number of powers that helped to track Sam down. As they got closer it was one of his drawings that helped narrow things down. "This is it," Peter said when he spotted the motel. He compared the picture to the sign. It was framed perfectly, as though Peter had been sitting there when he'd drawn it. "I can't believe I finally drew something useful."
	"As long as Sammy is actually here," Dean said, still tight lipped with worry.
	"He's here," Peter said. He folded the picture up and put it into his coat pocket. He wasn't going to accept Sam not being there as a possibility.
	"One way to find out," Dean said, checking his gun before climbing out of the car.
	Peter followed, keeping an eye open in case he needed to bring up one of his powers and quick.
	Dean went up to the room Peter's drawing had singled out and knocked on the door.
	Sam straightened up a little at the sound of the knock on the door. He quickly turned the TV off, but didn't get up off of the bed.
	"Sammy?" Dean called out. "Open the freaking door or I'll kick it in."
	The smirk that came across Sam's face disappeared just as quickly, and by the time he got to the door, he was looking more surprised than anything else. "Dean? Is that you?" he called. He opened the door just a crack to peer outside, and let out a relieved sigh before opening the door all the way.
	Dean barreled his way in and grabbed onto Sam first in a tight hug and then pushing him back to arm's length to get a look at him.
	Peter followed behind Dean. In any other situation he might've wanted to grab Sam first, but god knew Peter appreciated the needs of brothers. So he hung back, looking Sam over to make sure he was okay.
	Sam put his hand on Dean's arm as well, and looked back and forth between the two of them. "I can't believe you're really here," he said. "How did you find me?"
	"Please," Dean said. "Like I'd never not be able to find you. Toss in your boyfriend's psychic art mojo and the question should be how come it took us so long?"
	"Not that I won't be trying to be faster next time," Peter said. "Not that I want a next time."
	"So long?" Sam repeated, looking more confused. "How long have I been gone?"
	"About a day and a half," Peter said. "We've been worried."
	"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you," Sam said quietly.
	"Are you okay?" Peter asked. "Are you hurt?"
	"My head hurts a little," Sam said, rubbing the back of his head to show them where. "But I'm okay, really."
	Dean went into first aid mode and started checking out Sammy's head. "What happened?" he asked. "How'd you end up here?"
	"I...I don't know," Sam admitted. "I was out walking Scout after we finished up at the radio station, and we were in the woods. I thought I saw something shining by one of the trees, and..." He trailed off, sighing. "I knew I shouldn't have touched it, but I did anyway."
	"You're okay now," Peter said. "That's what matters."
	"I feel a lot better now that I'm not alone," Sam admitted. "I think I'm ready to get home."
	"Good, because that's where we're going," Dean said. "And then you're getting checked out at the clinic."
	Sam made a face at Dean. "I told you, I feel okay."
	"No arguments," Dean said. "Dude, you were gone. And you didn't do anything sane like call. So you're getting checked out head to toe if I have to hold you down."
	Sam gave Dean a guilty look, but didn't argue more. "Fine. I'll go to the clinic, I promise."
	"Look on the bright side," Peter said. "I'll take care of you after."
	As Sam let himself get led out of the room, he was grateful for Peter's comment. Besides the interesting ideas it provided, it meant he could smile without either of them wondering what he was really thinking.