Alex is sitting in the alcove that he and Josh used to hide in when they were younger. He didn't consciously choose to go there, just ended up there by habit and felt more comfortable in the shadows. His legs are tugged tight to his chest and he stares over them, straight ahead, not really seeing anything. He's been there all day, sitting like that. But time lost meaning at some point. The last conscious movement he made was to cast a silencing charm around the alcove, and then nothing. Just staring into the shadow.

Dean walks down the corridor for the fifth time, finally beyond panic. His eyes are red and weary as he leans against the wall. He's been searching fruitlessly all day, and to no avail. He sighs softly and trudges down the corridor slowly again, his eyes glancing down the wall and spotting the small alcove that he didn't see before. Carefully, he peers around, his breath catching as he spies you sitting inside. "Love?" he whispers, scooting in next to you.

And it's as if Alex doesn't even hear him. You notice though, now that you're closer, that he's shivering, and his wrist, where his other hand is holding it around his knees, is bruised from the grip. Every muscle is tensed and his eyes are vacant, fixed on the shadows.

Dean reaches out tentatively, placing one hand lightly over your own. "Alex...love?" he whispers again, just as gently. His fingers wrap around yours very carefully, easing the grip around your wrist.

His grip is like iron, and your gentle, careful movements can't loosen his fingers. In fact, as you touch him he shudders almost violently and tenses more, gripping even harder and hugging his legs tighter into his chest. He exhales once, hard thru his nose, and shudders again, but his eyes never move.

Dean winces as you shudder at his touch, and he retreats for a moment, unsure what to do. "Baby...please, look at me." he continues to whisper. He sighs and just lets instinct take over, touching your arms very gently in a consoling manner.

It's the 'baby' that finally gets to him, but he still doesn't turn to look at you. He does, however, realize that someone is there with him, and he closes his eyes and drops his head to his knees. Still just as tense and shivering.

Dean feels the tears well up in his own eyes, and he wraps his arms around you without another thought. "I'm here, baby." he coos softly against your ear. He wraps his cloak further around until you're bundled against him, hoping his warmth will at least soothe you somewhat.

And he feels like iron too. Just completely unmoving and all tense muscles. He shudders again when you wrap around him, but makes no move aside from that to even acknowledge it. Just hugs his legs tightly and rests his head on his knees. He's not crying though, just shaking, and if you noticed as you came in his eyes were not red at all. He hasn't cried, he's just gone cold.

Dean just sighs and rocks you slowly, mumbling soft words of comfort as he rubs your back gently. He pulls you closer, not trying to get you to talk...just wanting to be there and make sure you're safe.

He doesn't let himself be cuddled, and pulls away from any attempts to pull him into you. Each touch causes him to curl into himself more. His arms practically shaking from the exertion.

Dean lets go of you quickly, the tears welling back up in his eyes again. He scoots away slowly until he's sitting directly across from you, still determined to keep a careful watch, refusing to leave your side. With a soft sigh, he makes himself as comfortable as he can, wanting nothing more than to take all the pain away.

Alex lifts his head again, looking straight ahead unblinking, but it's as if he's not really looking at you, more through you. His pupils not fixed on anything. Not really seeing. The same posture he was in when you found him.

Dean reaches out slowly again, letting his fingers brush lightly over your cheek. "Baby...look at me, please." he whispers sadly.

It's the touch that does it, though he shudders like before and jerks back, his head bumping the wall behind him and the contact causing his pupils to narrow and focus on you. He blinks. His are empty, none of the spark that they normally have.

Dean gasps, and immediately scrambles over to make sure you didn't hurt your head badly. "Be careful, love." he murmurs softly, stroking your hair carefully.

"Dean" And it is probably a good sign that he recognizes you, but his voice won't give you any hope. It is just as empty, just as dead as his eyes. The touch to his hair causes him to shiver, but he doesn't move away.

"Yes, baby. It's me." he chokes out, pleased that you at least spoke. His fingers continue to stroke your hair as he kneels in front of you, determined to wait as long as it takes.

Alex shivers again and pulls away from your hand slightly. He looks down at his knees, he's brought back to reality but has nothing to say. No motivation to do anything other than sit here forever.

Dean looks at you with sorrow and compassion shining in his eyes. "Angel, I want to take you somewhere warmer." he whispers, laying one hand over yours gently in hopes it will get your attention.

Alex stares at your hand, and doesn't move away, but makes no move to move toward you or to stand either. Your words register, as something he hears, but they seem distant... not anything that really sinks in for him.

Dean sighs and grasps your hand in his, no longer caring is you shiver at his touch. He uses as much force as he can muster without squeezing your hand too hard, and tries to pull you up. "Come on, love. You have to get off this cold floor. I'll take us somewhere else quiet, I promise." he whispers. "Let's go up to the art room...please, baby."

Alex moves when you tug at him, following you up, allowing you to guide him. He's recognized you now, and knows that he should trust you, but it's not a conscious thing at all and he still isn't really acknowledging anything. His eyes still blank. But he stands.

Dean takes your arm and guides you slowly up the flights of stairs to their secret room. He opens the door and walks you inside, closing and locking the door behind him. "You'll be much warmer in here, baby." he guides you to the sofa, urging you to sit as he pulls out the soft blanket.

Alex walked stiffly the entire way, partly because his muscles were so sore from being immobile that long, and partly because he still hasn't relaxed at all. He lets you guide him to the art room, and sits down on the couch when you urge him too, but his eyes are unfocused again, and he makes no move to get more comfortable.

Carefully, Dean sits down next to you, covering you with the blanket. His arm wraps around your shoulder, just as gently as all his other touches have been. "I'm here, love. You'll be safe in here with me tonight."

"Not ever safe." He blinks, then curls his legs up to his chest again, shoes on the sofa, and drops his head against his knees. He's still shivering, so it couldn't have been from the cold, and his voice was dull; no hope, no emphasis.

"I won't let anything happen to you, baby. I swear it." he whispers out tearfully, his hand rubbing gentle circles on your back.

Alex doesn't react to the touch, which at least means it isn't making him shudder, but he doesn't say anything else and still isn't relaxing.

Dean doesn't give in for a moment; he pulls you against him, not caring if you shudder or flinch. He's convinced that human touch is what you need. "I'll take care of you, angel. I love you."

"Love you too." But there's still no emphasis in the words. He's just repeating them, on instinct, out of habit, because it's natural to say them after you've said 'I love you.' And in all truth he probably doesn't even know he's said them, as he's still curled into his knees. He doesn't lean into you, but doesn't pull away.

Dean merely wraps his arms around you a little tighter, still rocking you gently as he murmurs comforting words. He reaches under the blanket and carefully removes your shoes, trying to make things more comfortable for you, even if you don't notice.

And Alex doesn't notice. He just sits, seemingly unaware of being held, of you removing his shoes, and of anything else. Unresponsive.

Dean grabs his wand and mutters a quick spell, extinguishing the lights. He pulls you further against him and leans back against the arm of the sofa, hoping that you might sleep...even for just a few minutes.

Alex lies where you pull him eyes unmoving but he does stretch his legs out and drop his arms uselessly to his sides. He won't sleep, won't move, will just stare until moved again.

[fin.]