Flood Me Tender

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Dean Winchester was one fearless son of a bitch.

That's how he saw himself and that was the image he projected to all those who crossed paths with him, from the anonymous pedestrian in the street to the most dangerous of monsters, but at this moment he looked like nothing more than a drowned rat as he crouched miserably in the underbrush, the torrential rain beating down mercilessly, turning everything around him into a muddy wet swamp..

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He stole a glance at his brother who looked even worse than him, Sam's long chestnut hair was plastered darkly to his head and face, causing him to eerily resemble the Sasquatch that Dean often compared him to. The kid was gonna have to start wearing it in a freakin' pony-tail if it got any longer but he knew better than to comment on that, he'd only earn himself a bitch-face and Sam would just keep on growing his hair anyway.

God, little brothers!

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When they had left the car to stake-out the were-wolf in the woods, there hadn't been a cloud in the sky, the lily-white full moon lighting their path as they made their way forward, but as soon as they had found a good place to wait it out among the trees, the damn clouds had scudded spitefully across the sky and the rain had started to fall as if God had suddenly decreed that another Flood was in order!

He was sorely tempted to call it a night and head back to the warm motel room, but that part of him that had always put perfect strangers before his own well-being, poked annoyingly at him, reminding him that a by killing the wolf now, he would be saving a life that would otherwise have been snuffed out this very night.

He sighed and tried to find a more comfortable position on the wet ground. He hoped the 'were-mutt' turned up soon for he was just in the mood to take out the fugly; it was gonna pay dearly for making him crouch in this muck he swore, comforting himself with visions of how to kill it in the most painful way possible!

He consoled himself with the fact that nothing worse could happen.

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"Dean, you okay? You've been pretty quiet since we knuckled down here."

"Yeah, well, Sam we're not exactly drinking cocktails by a heated swimming pool, getting a massage from a hot chick, " Dean replied rolling his eyes at his brother.

He caught a look at his sibling's face and let out a snort of laughter, despite the miserable way he was feeling.

That Sam had soulful puppy eyes was undeniable, but now he really did look like one of those shaggy long-haired dogs who frolicked around on the TV ads.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked miffed."I don't see anything entertaining about being knee-high in freezing mud waiting for a were-wolf to jump out of the trees and try for a bite of our asses!"

"You are, dude!" Dean smirked as a spasm of hilarity overcame him. "If you could only see yourself, you'd be laughing too."

A corner of Sam's mouth started to twitch as Dean's good humour began to infect him, and mirroring his brother's smile, his lips formed an answering one of their own, his wide grin causing them both to feel warmer and more optimistic despite their wretched situation.

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Dean hoped that the were-wolf wasn't near-by for the laughing spate had left him weak as a jelly but it had felt real good, dissipating the tension that had been building up inside him.

He marveled at how such a little exchange with his brother could make him feel quickly better but it was nothing new.

Sam had the power to make his mood swing high or low, like some unique drug that existed only for him. He had long ago given up trying to analyze their relationship. It was what it was, whatever that meant, he mused, shaking his head in exasperation.

Sam however, didn't always accept things as lightly, and tended to drag up chick-flick moments at the most inappropriate times; like right now!

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"Dean!"

He sighed; that was Sam's broody opener and after the feel good moment with the laugh he did not want to be cast back down to a new low; but there was nowhere to run, he'd just have to ride it out. Maybe the were-wolf would finally show its hairy face before Sam got into a roll.

"Yeah. What?"

"Are you happy?"

Trust the little bitch to come up with a profound philosophical question in three words!

"Um, Sam, do you think that this is the right moment for this stuff. You know, 'were-wolf' and all that!"

"It's no big deal, you only have to answer yes or no," Sam replied making it sound easy.

"Yes or no! Okaay! There is no way yes or no is going to do it. If I say yes, you'll come up with a host of reasons why I should be unhappy and if I say no, you'll decide that it's all your fault if I'm not. Sam, I know you better than you know yourself, so let's chick-flick later when I don't feel that every one of my cells is gonna burst with the amount of water that's leaking into me!"

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He caught Sam's downcast gaze as he stared back at him.

"Oh, man, for heaven's sake don't give me the hang-dog look!

Listen you big girl. I am happy, okay! I've had plenty of chances at other ways of life; I had the fantasy life in the Djinn's world, I've been with more hot chicks than I can remember; I lived the apple pie life with Lisa and Ben; we were even in that weird alternate universe where we weren't even brothers and where you had a mansion, a wife and tons of money and we could even have stayed; I've been to heaven, hell; I've been to the past and the future, but the only place I'm happy in is when I've got a broody, emo, long-haired Sasquatch of a brother at my side, even when we're crouching up to our ears in freezing mud.

So I'm begging you here; let it drop! Okay."

"Dean...I .."

If Dean had been wet before, he was now drenched as his ginormous little brother pulled him into the most water-logged hug on record but somehow his brother's warmth filtered right through it all causing him to lose himself in the moment.

The comfort that even the lightest of contact between them brought was a constant in their lives.; it was up there with their crazy tangled up relationship; undefinable but real nevertheless.

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The rustle of leaves and the breaking of twigs averted them to the arrival of the werewolf and they broke their embrace just in time to thrust their blades simultaneously into the animal's belly as it leaped towards them; in tandem as it had always been and always would be.

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