Apparently the writers have said that Dean is Dean for now which is complete bullshit. I can't believe they would have Michael go on about a trap he'd laid and then have him just leave, but whatever. Hope you enjoy the fic!
The Bunker door clangs shut behind them, and they barely make in down the steps before every hunter in the room pulls their guns out the second they set eyes on Dean.
"Hey, hey stop!" Sam shouts, holding his hands up placatingly. "This isn't- It's not what it looks like."
"Well, not for nothing, chief," Carl says, "but it looks like you've brought back the archangel who's been trying to kill us for fifteen years."
Sam grimaces, feeling Dean shift uncomfortably behind him. Carl's a good guy, a great hunter, and, like all the other hunters from the other world, incredibly suspicious of anything angel related. Sam knows how this must seem to them. He motions for Dean to stay put with Mom and Bobby as he walks up to Carl. He's lowered his gun, but still holds it ready by his side.
"Look, this isn't Michael. This is my brother, I swear," he starts, voice loud enough so that the other hunters in the room hear him.
Carl raises an eyebrow, challenging. "Yeah? Then where's Michael?"
"I don't- I don't know," Sam says helplessly. "He's just gone, I don't know where, but we will find him. We'll find him, before anything else happens. This world isn't going to end up like yours."
"It's all well and good you saying that, but we don't know your brother. But we do know Michael, and this is exactly the kind of stunt he'd love to pull on us. Make us think he's gone, have us looking for him everywhere he's not, let us trust him, and then he destroys us all." Carl laughs harshly. "It's smart, I'll give him that. Gets rid of the only opposition left so he's free to rule."
Sam winces; he can see the others nodding along to Carl. Sam doesn't blame them for having their doubts - he's not exactly on board with the whole 'Michael just left' thing, but god he wants to believe it so badly. He has to believe it; he thinks he might break if he doesn't. Besides, Carl's right. They don't know Dean. But Sam does. Sam knows how his brother acts, and Dean hadn't done anything yet to suggest he's anything but Dean. Of course, he also knows that Michael could probably put on a good show, but he likes to think he's a good enough judge of Dean's character to know if something was wrong.
"You're right," he says, rubbing at his temple. "You don't know Dean, and you're right not to trust him. But you do know me. Trust me. Please. I'm asking for time here, just a little, to make sure everything's as he says it is."
"And how will you know that Michael isn't still in there?" Carl asks.
"Same as with Nick," Sam responds, allowing a little authority into his tone. "We'll keep an eye on him, get Cas to check him out. Nobody does anything until we're sure, alright?"
There's a silence, and Sam's certain he's pushed it too far. These guys might trust him to lead them in hunting, but he knows that as far as their faith in him goes. So he's surprised when Carl nods.
"Yes sir," he says, but there's still more than a little doubt in his tone. Sam gets it. He'd doubt him too.
"Thank you," Sam says, sighing a little in relief. "Hey, how's that vamp thing on I-90?"
Carl smiles crookedly. "We took care of it," he answers, a little too nonchalantly.
Sam nods. "Good. Thanks." He sighs again, then turns back to Dean and heads out of the war room. Dean follows him as he goes, although Mom and Bobby stay. Sam's glad for that - Bobby might be able to ease a little more of the tension between the other hunters.
"Sir?" Dean asks incredulously once they're out of earshot. "What, are you their leader now or something?"
"Look, man, I didn't ask them to call me that, alright," Sam defends. He didn't really, it just sort of happened. And, if he's telling the truth, he kind of likes it.
"No, I get that, I'm not judging, or whatever. It's- It's good," Dean replies, giving Sam an appraising look. "Though, I gotta say, Sam - you look like crap."
Sam laughs harshly, turning and raising his eyebrows at his brother. "Yeah, not too bad yourself," he jokes. In truth, Dean looks okay. Or, at least, better than he had when they'd found him. Still.
"Shut up," Dean says, no heat behind the words. "But seriously. I mean, you've got bags the size of Texas. And what's with the beard?"
Sam shrugs. "Guess I didn't really have time for shaving," he admits casually.
"Or sleeping," Dean accuses, stopping and fixing Sam with a challenging stare.
Sam doesn't answer. There's nothing to say, really.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dean mutters, and Sam tries hard not to wince at his tone. He thinks he just about manages it.
"Anyway," Sam interrupts. "It's been a long few weeks." Dean scoffs at that, and Sam winces in sympathy. "You should get some rest."
"Whatever you say, Mom," Dean grumbles, but he goes readily enough, which indicates that he's about as tired as he looks.
Sam's about to head back to the war room, then thinks better of it and turns back round. "Hey, Dean," he calls. Dean stops, his hand on the doorknob, looking at Sam questioningly. "Just... I know that you might not feel up to it right now, but, um, if you ever need to talk about what happened... I'm here. I just- I know what possession is like." He doesn't miss Dean's grimace at that. "So, um, yeah."
He expects Dean to make a flippant comment, to tell him to stop being such a girl even if he does have the hair for it. Instead, Dean just gives a half smile which doesn't reach his eyes. "Yeah Sammy," he says, then heads into his room, leaving Sam alone in the corridor.
Sam sighs and runs a hand over his face, feeling the prickling of his beard. Maybe he'll shave it off, now that Dean's back. Or maybe not. Michael is still out there and he needs to be stopped, that much hasn't changed. He's got work to do.
For the record, I hope Sam's beard stays forever because it is beautiful and I love it. I doubt it will though. Anyway. Thanks so much for reading and please leave a review if you have a moment!