Note: Tag to 12.09 First Blood. I just watched the episode and finally caught up on spn! So I am finally back on tumblr as well, for those of you who wanted to know!
Billy was history.
Midnight had come and gone.
And the survivors of the night were making their journey home.
Dean sat in the back of the car, having willfully forfeited the front seat to Sam, because as much as the younger man refused to admit it, his back had to be killing him. Dean knew that the sad excuse for a bed in the cell, hadn't been a sufficient size for his abnormally large little brother, and the kid's back always got fucked up when he was forced to spend too many nights sleeping on something too small. It was the reason Dean made sure that they didn't spend too many nights in the Impala, because as amazing as it was, it did not provide sufficient sleeping space for sasquatches who needed to stretch out, to prevent their spines from locking up.
After the showdown on the bridge, and Cas' heartfelt speech, they had all climbed back into the car, and it was then that the adrenal crash had hit. Dean knew as he slouched back in his seat, that it wouldn't be long until he was asleep, and that he would likely stay asleep until they arrived back at the bunker. However, it wasn't long after he had closed his eyes, that Dean was roused from his restful state.
It was the sound of his little brother's name, that tugged Dean into consciousness.
"Sam? Sam, hunny, what's wrong?"
Whether it was the words or his mother's worried tone that attracted Dean's attention, he wasn't sure, but either way he was immediately coherent.
"What's going on?" He questioned, his voice gruff from disuse, something he and Sam both had going on.
"Something seems to be wrong with Sam." Cas observed, as he squinted up at the passenger's seat.
Dean shook his head, ridding it of the remaining lethargic cobwebs, and concentrated all his focus on the younger man seated in front of him.
"Sam?" He questioned.
Dean could hear his little brother's stuttered breathing, and could see his tense posture.
"He won't tell me what's wrong. He just started shaking and panting like that." Mary explained, her concerned gaze glancing between her youngest son and the road ahead.
"Did he have a nightmare? Sam, was it a nightmare?" Dean questioned, because that were usually the reason for distressed respirations.
"He hasn't fallen asleep yet. I tried to tell him to, but he just kept staring out the window."
Dean nodded at the information, but didn't remove his gaze form the tall figure in the passenger's seat.
"Sam. Look at me. Come on, buddy." He called. There was no response, and the kid's long hair kept Dean from being able to read his expression.
"Sammy." Dean pleaded.
That worked, he had known it would, it always had; even back when the little brat used to complain about the childish nickname.
The hazel eyes that met Dean's, were wide with panic. Sam seemed unable to train his gaze on his big brother, his stare wandering, but returning to Dean each time.
"What's going on, dude?" Dean questioned, moving as close as he could without physically climbing up into the front of the car.
"I- I need out. I need out now, Dean. Now." Sam stammered, his frame shaking and breath coming in gasps as he proceeded to glance wildly around the vehicle.
"Okay." Dean assured with a nod, because he could tell when Sam was overreacting, and when he was being dead-ass serious.
"Now." Sam begged, his fingers reaching for the door handle.
"Okay, Sam. In a second." Dean declared.
Sam responded with a shaky nod, as he bit down hard on his bottom lip. The older man knew that his little brother was fighting to hold back the panic, which Dean could spot clear as day in the expressive pair of hazel eyes.
"Mom, pullover." He instructed without removing his focus from Sam, whose hand was white-knuckling the door handle.
"We are in the middle of nowhere, it might not be safe—
"Mom, now." Dean demanded urgently, as Sam suddenly opened the door.
Mary swerved the car over to the right side of the road.
"Wait, Sam. Just wait. Just one second." Dean petitioned, his firm hold of his brother's shoulders being the only thing keeping the taller man inside of the vehicle.
The car had barely come to a stop, when Sam lunged from Dean's grip, staggering a couple short feet before collapsing onto the side of the road.
"Sammy." Dean called out, scrambling out of the car and making his way over to his brother.
"Sam." Mary called. Dean looked over his shoulder, holding his palm out to halt his mother's approach, and keep Cas where he was, standing beside the vehicle.
He didn't know exactly what was up with Sam, but he had a pretty good guess, and he knew that an audience wouldn't be of any benefit.
Mary didn't look happy about being instructed to keep her distance, but she respected Dean's wishes, though her reluctance to do so was apparent. However, Dean didn't much care about that, not now, not when his little brother needed him.
The older hunter turned back to Sam, his heart wrenching at the sight of the young man seated in the dirt, his legs bent in front of him as he raked his hands through his hair.
Dean approached his brother slowly, making an extra effort not to spook him as he moved to squat in front of the trembling form.
"Hi-ya Sammy." He greeted softly, placing a tentative hand on one of the knobby knees.
Dean was granted with a glance, Sam's eyes were still shining with emotion, but were no longer wide in panic.
"What's going on, buddy?" Dean asked, taking advantage of his little brother's attention.
Sam's long fingers trembled while he slid them through his hair again, gripping the strands as he hung his head.
Dean ducked further down, hoping to find Sam's gaze again. Not liking how erratic the younger man's breathing still was. He was moments away from hyperventilating.
"Talk to me, Sammy." Dean pleaded, reaching forward and sweeping the hair of Sam's forehead, finding the hazel eyes hiding underneath.
"Car- the car was too small. Too small. I tri-tried. I couldn't." Sam stuttered out, sounding equal parts terrified and apologetic.
"Hey, man, that's alright. That's fine, Sam. Just take it easy, try to relax." Dean soothed.
"Can't. Tried-tried in the car. Can't. Sorry."
"Don't be sorry. It's okay. How about we just deal with your breathing? And we'll worry about the rest later. Alright?"
It took a moment, but eventually Sam replied with a shaky nod.
"Good. Just focus on me, and try to take some deep breaths."
Dean knew that his little brother had heard the words, but the younger man's gaze didn't deviate from their focus on the shaking fingers he had clasped in front of him.
"Sam, eyes on me." Dean ordered softly.
The older brother waited patiently for Sam's eyes to meet his, before continuing.
"That's it. Now breathe in and then out, as deep as you can." The hunter instructed calmly, splaying his palm across Sam's chest, measuring the depth of each breath.
"C'mon, dude. We've done this before." Dean encouraged.
Sam's only response was a noisy inhale, which was thankfully deeper than any of the previous ones, as was his exhale. The young man repeated the seemingly menial process over and over, until his breathing began to even out.
"That's my boy." Dean praised, a proud smile pulling at his lips.
Sam huffed something that could have been a laugh, if it hadn't sounded so damn miserable.
"Sorry for freaking out." The youngest Winchester sighed, after his body began to relax a fraction.
Dean frowned, hating the shame he could sense radiating off his little brother.
"You don't have to be."
The taller man rolled his eyes.
"I'm serious, Sam. You held it together long enough. Longer than anyone else could." Dean stated, with all the conviction in the world.
His kid was the bravest fucking man on the earth.
Nothing would ever make Dean question that, especially not some tiny panic attack after weeks spent in a damn box.
"Not you." Sam whispered, his puppy-dog-eyes looking up at his big brother.
"I don't have the same history with small spaces that you do. If I had spent over a century in a fucking cage, I would have lost it the second I got put in that bloody cell." Dean explained, it wasn't like he hadn't already lost it while he had been trapped in solitary confinement, and he didn't have the same traumatic past with enclosed spaces that his little brother did.
Sam was looking at his fingers again, gnawing on his bottom lip, a clear sign of his disagreement.
"Seriously, Sam. If you need to lose it. Then lose it. You have every godamn right to—
"Lose it?" Sam finished, a smirk tugging at his lips, and putting one of his dimples on display.
Dean smiled at his little brother, beyond relieved that he was still okay, and put together enough to joke around.
"Yes, lose it. Whatever you need to do. Just do it. I'm right here, I'll help you with whatever you need."
"I'm pretty sure I already lost it. So how about you just help me get it together again?" Sam requested quietly.
Dean nodded.
God, he was so fucking proud of his brave little brother.
"Well, we successfully avoided hyperventilating. So how's about we work on getting back in the car?"
Sam immediately stiffened at the suggestion.
"I don't know if I can." He confessed in a whisper.
"Well, I know that you can. You're the strongest person I know, Sam."
The younger boy ducked his head at the comment, Sam never could take a compliment.
"It's not too much further to the bunker. You just sit in the back with me and close your eyes, we will be home by the time you open them again."
"Not sure if I can sleep."
"Well, I don't see how that is possible. I barely got any sleep in that cell, and if I know you at all, which I freakin do, I'm sure that you got even less shuteye than I did."
Sam didn't contradict any of his brother's statements, but he had yet to stop trembling.
"Sammy, if you need to stop again, we will. You just say the word and we'll make another pit stop. We can pull over every five minutes, if that's what you need. Deal?"
Again, it took a moment, but eventually Sam replied, nodding his consent.
"Kay, Dean." Sam agreed softly.
Dean felt warmth spread through his. He loved his brother so much, and he knew that Sam was only agreeing because Dean had asked him to, and because he trusted his big brother. That meant the world to Dean. It meant everything, to still be granted Sam's trust, even after all the shit the kid had been through.
"Alright, buddy, let's get moving, my legs are killing me." Dean complained, standing from his squatted positon, and helping the taller man to his feet.
Dean maintained a hold of his little brother, until they were both seated in the back of the car. He kept Mary and Cas at bay, nodding to them that everything was alright, and gesturing for them to get into the front of the vehicle. The only words that were spoken, were Dean's quiet whispers of encouragement, as he ushered Sam back into the car.
Sam sat behind the passenger seat, closing his eyes as soon as the doors were all closed and the vehicle pulled back out onto the road. Dean hoped it was because the kid was trying to sleep, but he knew Sam was just trying to keep his fears from overcoming him. Dean kept his hand around his little brother's arm, gripping just above his elbow, as to constantly remind Sam that he wasn't alone. Not anymore.
Eventually, the younger man began to try and get comfortable, but it seemed to be a struggle. He would lean against the window, but only for a moment, before twitching in discomfort and switching positions.
"C'mere." Dean mumbled, tugging on his little brother's arm.
Sam opened his eyes long enough to glance curiously in Dean's direction.
"Lie down." Dean suggested, as he continued to tug.
"It's okay—
"It's not. You're in pain. Your spine is all fucked up. Lying on your side will be better than trying to slouch right now. Put yourself out of your misery."
"Dean, I'm fi—
"Fine, then put me out of my misery. Come on." Dean coaxed.
Sam twitched a smile and relented, allowing his big brother to pull him down onto his side. The older hunter positioned Sam's head on his lap, the situation reminding him of a million times throughout their childhood when they had assumed the same positions.
"Get some rest, Sammy." Dean instructed softly, instinctively combing his fingers through the long hair fanned out across his jean-clad thigh.
The soft sigh that the younger man released, and the tension that drained from his lanky form, was everything Dean had wanted. His little brother safe and at peace.
Thankfully, Sam slept the rest of the journey. Dean stayed up to keep watch, sliding his fingers rhythmically through the long brown hair as he kept an ear out for his little brother's breathing pattern. He knew that nightmares would come, it was bound to happen. He was pretty sure they had occurred while the two of them had been locked-up. And it killed him to know that Sam had suffered alone all that time. Dean refused to allow that to happen again.
"We're here." Mary announced unnecessarily, as they arrived at the bunker.
Their mother turned around in her seat, her sympathetic eyes landing on her boys.
"Do you need any assistance, with Sam?" Cas inquired.
Dean kept himself from scoffing at the suggestion, because how many times in his life had he had to transport his little brother from a vehicle to a bed?
"Nah, it's alright, I got him."
Cas nodded at the information, exiting the car and disappearing inside. Mary stayed where she was, her gaze focussed on the backseat.
"Sammy, up and at'em, kiddo." Dean recited the familiar phrase from childhood, gently nudging the younger man into consciousness.
Sam came to slowly, scrunching his face up before opening his eyes, like he always did upon waking, ever since he was an infant. Dean couldn't help but smile fondly at his little brother.
"Dean?"
That was another thing the kid had always done when returning to consciousness, he called out for his big brother. Dean felt a pang in his chest, as he wondered if Sam had done the same thing whenever he woke up in that damn cell, and if every time his call was met with silence.
"Right, here, Sammy. Let's get you inside and into bed, okay?"
Sam's slow response spoke volumes as to his level of exhaustion, and his rigid movements made his back pain blindingly apparent.
Dean kept a firm grasp of Sam's arm as they made their way slowly inside. He didn't know if their mother would follow, or if she was planning to take off right away, but that was something Dean didn't have the time to worry about, not now, not while Sam needed him.
Dean's grip grew stronger as Sam wobbled his way down the stairs. He didn't release his little brother until they were standing at the threshold of Sam's bedroom.
"Going to grab a shower." Sam mumbled, gazing around his room as though he hadn't seen it in years. Admittingly, it did feel like they had been locked up for years.
"Go for it."
Dean did the same, washing the stench of that cell and the dirt of the forest, off his skin. He stood under the spray for far longer than he normally would, soaking in the feel of warmth and cleanliness. The older hunter would have been happy to remain in the shower until he turned into a prune, but the reminder of his hurting little brother, had him abandoning the luxury of a private bathroom. Dean towelled off and slipped into warm clothing, relishing the feel of the soft fabric. It was amazing how much the little things mattered when you didn't have them.
The older hunter sauntered barefoot down the hallway, arriving at Sam's room in time to see the younger man towel drying his long hair, standing in his sweatpants. Sam hadn't put a shirt on yet, which allowed Dean to see just how thin his kid brother had become.
"You didn't eat any of that fucking food, did you?" Dean growled, his eyes raking over the pale skin that was pulled tight across the bones beneath it. Sam's hips stuck out, his ribs and collarbone were shockingly prominent, and Dean could even count the knobs of his kid's spine.
"I ate some, but it was nasty. Not all of us have a stomach made of steel." Sam defended, reaching for his sweatshirt and promptly slipping into it.
Dean shook his head. This was why Sam couldn't ever be left to care for himself, he sucked-ass at it.
"Fine, but I'll be picking out your meals until you gain all your weight back, and you're not allowed to bitch about it."
Sam rolled his eyes, but he made no argument. The younger brother knew better than to argue with Dean about certain things, especially his health.
"Get that scrawny ass of yours into bed."
"Dean—
"Don't 'Dean' me. I know you're exhausted."
"So are you."
"I am, and the faster you get settled, the sooner I can get some shuteye."
Dean was aware how blatantly protective he was being, but he didn't give a shit. He hadn't been able to protect his little brother from anything for weeks, and it hadn't done him or Sam any good. Not being able to see Sammy, not knowing how he was coping, not being aware that – apparently - the moron wasn't eating, not being able to protect him, that had torn Dean apart. The most difficult aspect of being locked up, was not being able to be there for his little brother.
"You're bossy." Sam sulked, as he dropped down onto his mattress.
"Bite me." Dean quipped, gripping Sam's shoulders and pushing them back until his long body was horizontal on the bed. He waited for the younger hunter to pull his legs up onto the mattress, staring down at the long limbs expectantly. Sam didn't seem to grasp what he was supposed to do next, he just looked up at his big brother from where he was lying on his side.
"Gawd, you are hopeless." Dean sighed in exasperation, stooping down and lifting the pair of thin legs up onto the bed.
Sam smirked, his dimples appearing for a moment, as he straightened his knees with a hum of satisfaction.
"See? Lying down in a comfy bed isn't so terrible, now, is it?" Dean remarked with a knowing look, as he tugged the blanket up over his brother's too-thin frame.
"It was going to be me. I made Billy promise."
Dean stiffened at the raspy confession, dropping down onto the mattress next to his little brother, angled so he could see Sam's serious expression.
"You don't think I did the same thing? You think for one fucking second that I would've let her take you?"
The hazel eyes staring up at Dean, grew. They were so filled with fear, pain, desperation, and love, that Dean found them difficult to stare into, but he refused to look away. He had been deprived of his little brother for too long, he wouldn't be taking his eyes off the kid anytime soon.
"I've tried living on this planet without you, Sam. It doesn't work for me." Dean confessed, his tone certain.
"But it's different now."
The hushed comment had the older brother's eyebrows rising.
"You have Mom, now." Sam pointed out, softly.
"And what? You think she's some sort of replacement for you?"
The question clearly threw Sam, who frowned in confusion.
"No, but you two would be together."
"Yeah, if she stuck around." Dean snorted bitterly.
"Dean." Sam chastised.
The older hunter gave a dismissive shake of his head.
"It doesn't matter. Because either way, I couldn't do it without you." Dean admitted.
Sam's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, as they stared up at the man seated next to him.
"That goes both ways." He whispered.
Dean nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he reached forward and slid the damp hair off his little brother's face.
"Get some rest, Sammy."
Sam nodded, obediently closing his eyes, and –within moments – his breathing evened out and he dropped off to sleep.
Dean sat by his little brother's side for most of the night, and when Sam's mind terrorized him with cruel memories and caused him to bolt awake with a cry, Dean was right there to soothe him. He promised his little brother that he was out, and he was safe, and he was never going back, not to prison, and not to that fucking cage. He promised the younger man that they were both alright, and reminded him that he wasn't alone, because it was a reminder that Dean needed to hear for himself.
The worst thing about being in that damn cell, was that he had been completely alone.
It was a feeling he could not bear, and one he knew he would have felt if Billy had taken his little brother.
Because Sam was everything to Dean, and without him, the hunter was alone.
It didn't matter that there were others he cared for, or even that he had family beyond his little brother.
He would still be alone without his kid.
Because if the most important thing in your life was gone, there was nothing that could take its place.
If Sam was gone, Dean would be irreparably broken.
There was no one that would be able to fill the hole Sam's absence would leave in Dean's life.
There was nothing that would be able to repair the ruined state his soul would be left in.
There would be no reason for him to ever be so full of love, that he could hardly breathe.
There would be no cause for him to overflow with pride or joy.
There would be no cure for his loneliness.
There would be no remedy for his pain.
There would be no life without Sam.
Of that, Dean was painfully aware.
Note: I probably shouldn't have stayed up until 7am writing this, work is going to suck worse than usual in a couple hours, but I couldn't resist! I would love to hear your thoughts! I hope some of you enjoyed it, so that I can justify staying up all night writing. ;) Thanks for reading! - Sam