Sam watched Dean standing by the window looking out to the dimness that was the motel's parking lot. The sleek Impala waited there, patiently as she always did.
Sam couldn't tell what was running in Dean's mind, what was behind the silence. Grief still shaded his bearing, tears still clouding his eyes, wetting his lashes. Times like this made Sam miss Dean's cocky grin and attitude, but they sent Sam to thinking it would have been better if Dean would open up more and accept Sam's consoling feat. A hug wouldn't hurt, would it? A shoulder to cry on might prove to help.
Sam cleared his throat.
"You'd better have some rest, Dean," he said softly.
"Huh?" Dean seemed to struggle to climb up from the abyss.
"You've been through a lot. Let your body heal."
The older Winchester grunted a little.
"Erm, yeah."
Sam waited if he would say something else but Dean only dragged himself to bed, pulled off his shirt, and placed it on the foot of the bed. Not once did he glance in Sam's direction. He just laid himself down and brought the coverlet up to his chin, turning his back to Sam.
The younger brother drew a deep breath, and rose slowly. He needed to brush his teeth before he himself went to bed.
The tap was turned on; the water was slowly pouring out. Sam saw all of that, but only a while that he realized one thing—his trembling hand.
Only now did understanding dawn in him. He had just almost lost his brother. It was so close. He still remembered a second when suddenly he could no longer feel the body hanging tied up from the ceiling stir – no matter how faint the movement had been before, when no warm breath coming out of Dean's nose or half-opened mouth.
I thought I lost you…Sam gripped the rim of the washbasin tightly as he strove to contain himself, eyes vacantly wandering to his own reflection in the mirror, lips tightened.
He can't lose Dean. He just can't…Straightening up, Sam knew he had just to do it. No matter what Dean would say. They had been through a lot of hell lately. No one knew when their luck ran out.
Sam stepped out of the bathroom and went straight to Dean's bed. For a moment he stopped there, looking down to his already dozing brother. Dean looked quite peaceful in his sleep. Sam thanked heaven for that.
Then he shifted slowly, perching himself on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle it and disturb the slumber. Sam remembered he used to hug his brother from behind when he got afraid of something. Not that Dean didn't want to hold him. Dean did move a lot when he slept.
Reaching out an arm, Sam circled it around Dean's shoulder and sneaked a hand under another. He hid his face into his brother's neck and deeply breathed in Dean's sleeping scent. Sam closed his eyes and blocked everything else from his mind. Time was precious. He was awfully lucky to have one big brother, someone like Dean, and no less. Sam was grateful for that and he wanted to show it as long as he could.
He hoped it would be forever.
"Dude?"
Sam's eyes flew open.
"I love you and I'd die for you. But you have no boobs, so stay away from my skin, will ya?"
Sam snorted, caring not to what his brother said, and only snuggled closer.