Dean slammed his fist into the wall of his cheap motel room.
How could Sam do this to him!?
Sam was his brother, his best friend, his….his EVERYTHING.
What right did he have to mess with his head?
Sam had told him it was his fault.
Sam had told him that he didn't know how else to show Dean he was strong. To show him that he was just as much of a hunter and that he didn't need to be babied. To be protected from the big bad world.
He picked up a glass that had been left on the table throwing it with all the strength he could muster.
He knew he would forgive Sam.
He knew that he wouldn't cut him out.
He knew that he would care too much about the taller man with the floppy hair and huge sparkling eyes.
Dean wanted nothing more to hate Sam right now.
He wanted nothing more than to just stop caring, but he couldn't.
Suddenly throwing the glass just didn't seem enough.
He flipped the table over the an animalist growl.
Deep down he knew that Sam was right.
He knew that this was his fault.
The bitchy comments, the verbal beat downs, the doubts in his ability.
He should have had so much more faith in his little brother.
He should have talked to him rather than letting things build.
Maybe then Sam would have believe in himself and not found a way to make himself feel strong when in reality he already was strong.
Dean should have just been honest.
He should have told Sam that the only reason he acted like he did was because he feared Sam didn't need him.
He feared Sam had out grown him and that he was holding his young brother back from being the greatest hunter of all time.
No.
Dean could never be honest with Sam.
Never.
It would leave him too vulnerable and Dean Winchester did NOT do vulnerable.
Dean needed more things to smash.
He couldn't let go of the rage, the fire, in the pit of his stomach.
He grabbed the radio alarm clock and threw it.
He didn't hear the door open.
He strode over to the small telly and shoved it off it's stand.
He didn't see Sam walk into the room
He booted the telly angry that it hadn't smashed.
He didn't realize Sam was walking over to him shaking his head.
If Sam had been one the creatures they hunted, Dean would be dead now.
Dean booted the telly over and over as Sam reached out to him.
As the fingers of the younger brother grabbed the arm of the elder, time froze for a second.
Dean Whirled around fist drawn back ready to beat his 'attacker' into a bloody pulp.
Sam was ready and ducked, not letting go of his brothers arm.
Dean snarled angry he had missed despite knowing who it was and went to lash out again.
Sam shoved him around against the motel wall.
"Calm the fuck down Dean it's me! It's Sam, your brother!"
"MY BROTHER WOULD NEVER DRINK FUCKING DEMON BLOOD!"
Both brothers stood silently, looking to each others eyes.
Both angry, both hurt, both scared and confused.
It was like they were little boys again.
Sam growled at Dean then mashed his lips against his brothers.
He pulled back,
"Shut up!" He hissed angrily, "Just shut the fuck up!"
Dean pulled Sam back so their lips were together again, then pushed him away roughly.
"It's me or the fucking blood."
Sam glared at Dean.
"It's always been you!" He screamed at him, "It always will be, but I don't know how to fucking get through to you! I am not weak! I do not need protecting! How else can I show you!?"
Dean stomped over to Sam grabbing him roughly by his t-shirt, their noses touching.
"I KNOW SAM! I fucking know…I just…" Dean shoved Sam away again trying to regain some composure. "I need to protect you Sammy..I just…I need to."
Sam sighed and stepped forward wrapping his arms around his brother.
"No more blood."
Dean closed his eyes sighing in relief.
"No more underestimating you."
Dean knew he didn't really underestimate Sam, that secretly he admired him, but Sam did not and would never know this.
Sam put a finger under Deans chin and forced his head up so that he could look into his eyes.
"I love you Dean."
"I love you too Sammy."