Prompt from the comment meme for Sam's birthday on ohsam's LiveJournal: Lucifer brings Sam back to life in 13x21, but the journey from the caves to the camp on foot must have been a long one. And being alone with the creature that tormented and tortured him for years must be almost unbearable.

Title from Brother by Needtobreathe

Not five minutes after he walks into camp, Sam goes down. Hard. And fast; so fast that he's sprawled on the dirt, legs bent beneath him, before Dean even registers what's happening. He drops down next to his brother, quickly scanning him for any signs of injury (aside from the blood still coating his neck, but Dean's trying to ignore that).

It's only then that he notices just how fucking pale Sam is, and how pronounced the shadows under his eyes are. He looks a world away from the guy who had walked through that portal not too long ago, but Dean supposes that's what dying and being resurrected by your worst enemy will do to you.

Speaking of, Lucifer's watching them, smirking from the treeline. Dean flips him off, which makes him laugh, then turns his attention back to Sam, cursing himself for not noticing anything sooner.

"You okay?" he asks brusquely, taking Sam's face in his hand and turning it up towards him. Sam's aware enough to slap him away, which is a good sign at least.

"I'm fine," Sam says, not at all convincingly. "Just tired; I've been walking for hours."

That, Dean can believe. Sam looks exhausted, right down to his very soul, although Dean also knows that it's not just the walking that's done it. But. He'll play along for now.

"Yeah? Well, hate to tell you but you ain't gonna get much rest here. Come on, move your ass."

Sam glares at him, which Dean takes as another good sign, then starts struggling to his feet. As he does so, Dean sees him catch sight of Lucifer, and suddenly Sam's back on the ground again, face even paler than before if that's possible. Dean watches him quietly, then carefully puts a hand on his shoulder. It's a testament to how shitty Sam's feeling that he doesn't immediately try to push him off.

"You ready to talk now?" Dean asks.

"There's nothing to say; I'm fine," Sam says stubbornly, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the dirt in front of him.

Dean barks a harsh laugh. "Yeah, and I'm Madonna."

Sam scowls again, but something in his eyes gives, and he sighs heavily. "It wasn't... Waking up and seeing him... Then the walk... I couldn't -"

"He hurt you?" Dean interrupts, sensing how difficult it is for Sam to speak. He's surprised when Sam lets out a laugh.

"He didn't hurt me, Dean," he says, and there's something like steel in his tone. "He saved me."

Dean grimaces, almost tasting the bitterness with which Sam speaks. He can't imagine how it must have been for him, to wake up from the dead, confused and disoriented, with only Lucifer for company.

"He didn't stop talking," Sam continues quietly, and Dean snaps back to attention. "The whole way here, he just kept talking about Jack and Mom and - other stuff."

"The Cage," Dean supplies, then immediately regrets it when Sam's whole body flinches and curls in on itself. "Right. Sorry. Wanna talk about it?"

As expected, Sam presses his lips together tightly and shakes his head. He's never wanted to talk about what happened down there and Dean doesn't blame him for it. Hell, he didn't want to talk about his own trip below, and he's pretty sure that was a beach vacation compared to what Sam had to endure.

Dean nods, then pushes himself to his feet, offering a hand to help Sam up. Sam takes it and gets to his feet, still somehow managing to look small despite the way he towers over Dean. Lucifer waves from the trees, so Dean glares and flips him off again for good measure, then guides Sam away towards a group of huts, keeping a careful eye out in case his brother decides the ground is comfy enough to take a nap on after all.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up. I don't know if you've noticed - everyone else has - but you stink, dude."

Sam's lips quirk up into a brief smile, and it looks like he's regained some of his old humour. "Yeah, not too bad yourself," he jokes.

Dean holds up his hands and puts on his best innocent face. "I'm serious! I mean, why else do you think we're alone right now?"

"You're a jerk," Sam says, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Bitch." Dean grins, and Sam grins back, and, for a brief moment, it feels like everything will be okay.