Title: More than a sprain
Summary: "...and you sprain your freakin' elbow? Please," Dean scoffed, putting on a front because that's what big brothers do. But, really, as he turned away, his face fell. Sorry I wasn't there, Sammy, he apologised silently. He should have been there for Sam. Because that's what big brothers do.
Note: Watched last night's episode this morning and wow it just left me in a puddle of brother feels. I'm so glad they are actually talking about stuff they need to talk about! Albeit while hunting, but maybe that's the best time to talk. It was a good episode, and it needed a coda... so here ya go. Please review :)
They had decided to take Cas up on his advice of a bit of R & R for a couple of weeks. And, to be honest, that was the only explanation Dean could really give for why they were sitting on freakin' fold-away chairs in front of the Impala, looking out over a river.
But it did feel good. Surprisingly, Cas had hit the right nerve on his suggestion, which was why neither Sam nor Dean were particularly bothered about not doing anything right now.
Well, almost not bothered.
As Dean looked at his brother through the dark sunglasses, he had to smile. Because Sammy was so fucking strong, and he looked so... well, just sitting there.
Considering that only a year or so ago, the kid had taken on those goddamn Trials that were designed to kill him, and Dean had suffered months of agonising and increasingly desperate thoughts on ways to save Sam as he had, slowly but surely, got terrifyingly sick...
Well, considering that, they were doing alright right now.
Sure, the guy had his fair share of sicknesses – not even counting the Trials – and injuries and general hospital visits – and Dean was not thinking of those hours waiting for a dying brother in hospital, with a demon in his car trunk and an AWOL not-angel...
No, he wasn't going to think about that.
Because, well, Sam was okay. Sure, a little beat up, but at least not smashed on the end of a hammer.
Yeah, Dean had that angel again to thank for that one. And again, he had to thank Cas for this point too. Taking some time off to 'become brothers', as it could be put, again, was a great idea.
But, on the subject of Sam's health (because when wasn't he on that subject? – well, apart from the whole demon thing...), the kid did have that sling.
Sure, Sam had honestly told him what happened after Dean had asked, when they had tentively had breakfast together a couple of days after the whole demon fiasco.
Cas had winged off already, and it was just the two Winchesters sitting at opposite ends of the breakfast table, slowly eating their cereal, and not-so-subtly eying each other, tension filling the room.
Well, until Dean had broken the silence with a typical wise-ass remark; "Dude, have you really just been eating cornflakes?"
And Sam had broken out in the biggest puppy-eyed smile, and started laughing, for god knows what reason, while Dean had blinked at him as he began to smile too.
Because, well, why the hell shouldn't they just smile and laugh for a bit?
Once Sam had recovered himself, Dean had raised an eyebrow and asked, "so, you gonna let me in on the joke?"
Sam had sighed, but it was a happy and relieved sigh, and he had just shook his head and replied, "I'm so glad you're back, Dean."
And Dean had nodded, throat too tight for words for a minute. The real message behind the statement was, I really missed you, Dean and I wished you were here every single hour.
Or something sappy like that, Dean had been sure.
So, after that ice breaker, they had conversed normally, like brothers, and Sam had told Dean about his arm and Dean had made suitable wise-ass remarks. Because that was what big brothers did.
And that escalated nicely, and resulted in their activities now, a couple of weeks after that first conversation. Sitting outside the car, staring out peacefully over a lake, the sun shining down, and sunglasses on.
But that first talk was still bothering Dean. One main thing was bothering him, in all. He turned to Sam.
"Hey, something I need to ask you."
Sam glanced briefly at him, maybe slightly surprised (it was hard to tell with the sunglasses covering his eyes), and then returned his gaze to the lake. "Shoot."
Dean shook his head slightly and began, "you've been kicked, bit, scratched, stabbed, possessed, killed..." Sam made as if to wince a little at that reminder and Dean chided himself on choosing his words better. "And you sprain your freaking elbow?"
Sam looked at him, all bitchface and half offended, and sighed exasperatedly. "Dude, it was more than a sprain, alright? And it was a freaking demon, but-"
But, Dean just sniggered and replied with a smirk, "What? That sling come with a slice of crybaby pie on the side?
"Please," he scoffed, putting on a front because that's what big brothers do. But, really, as he turned away, his face fell. Sorry I wasn't there, Sammy, he apologised silently. He should have been there for Sam. Because that's what big brothers do.
Sam smiled and shook his head at his brother's usual sassy talk, all over again happy and relieved over getting Dean back.
But Dean, turned away from Sam for a moment, pretending to admire the trees or whatever, just couldn't help thinking.
Apparently, Cas had been with Sam on whatever their most excellent attempted adventure was, but that hadn't stopped his little brother getting the worse end of the hunt. And Sam must have been all alone, at least for a minute, hurting, and Dean wasn't there.
He should have been there.
Sam shouldn't have got hurt in the first place.
The kid wouldn't have even had to be there and get hurt if it wasn't for Dean.
And that was just really eating at him. Because, well, yes, he was a demon, and that wasn't technically his fault (Crowley was taking that blame, dammit), but the actions before he died were his fault. Well, mostly.
Of course, he hadn't told Sam this because the kid would just tell him it wasn't and blame Cain, and Crowley, and a whole host of other dicks of demons.
But really, Dean hated the idea of Sam being hurt without him. He couldn't help thinking about what had happened. He couldn't help thinking of Sam being at a hospital without him, no one to make his smile and hold his hand while the doctors poked and prodded.
What if he had had to call an ambulance because he couldn't drive one handed and in so much pain? He had to call for help because Dean wasn't there to help him and reassure him and drive him to hospital while cracking lame jokes to cover up the fear.
Because that's what big brothers are meant to do.
Dean sighed and looked back around, at his little brother. The little brother who didn't hold anything against him (not often; again, ignoring the whole angel possessing thing...). And, seeing Sam so content, just staring out over the water into the horizon, just relaxing...
Well, that was like a balm to Dean's battered soul and aching mind. That image of a healthy, happy, chilled, brother was something that Dean was going to keep with him, and think of whenever needed.
Sam was alive. Dean was alive, and no longer a demon. They were relaxing – not hunting, not trying to figure out the world – just relaxing. Dean nodded and smiled to himself. This was healing.
And Dean wished he had been there for Sam, but he hadn't been, and he was going to have to accept that. But he was here right now, and he wasn't going to leave. Never again.
Dean took a sip of his beer and looked out over the lake through his sunglasses. It was calm. It felt like peace. He smiled again to himself. Too quiet. Time for some hunting.