Partners or Brothers
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Dean turned just in time to glimpse his brother's broad back as Sam disappeared out the door and round the corner
He felt like crying.
x
Why the hell was this happening?
Why did it seem that as soon as they got to a good place, they found themselves thrown back into a pit of misunderstanding and hostility.
Back in the church, Sam had listened to him, chosen him over closing the Gates of Hell, chosen Dean over death, yet here they were, worse than ever!
It's not that Dean didn't get it, he did.
Sam was pissed at him for allowing an angel to possess his body, and Dean couldn't blame his brother for being righteously angry, but the part of Dean that had loved and protected his little brother from the night of their mother's death just couldn't stop; couldn't let Sam die; couldn't imagine life without him!
But this friction, this retiring to their bedrooms like two prissy teens. Was this living or was it merely existing?
x
Dean knew how stubborn Sam was, how he always needed time to put his thoughts and feelings in order, but Dean was so tired; so freaking tired of never seeing Sammy's sun-filled smile, his bitch-faces, of listening to his boring geeky lectures on the weirdest of subjects
Okay he maybe he was just a selfish prick, but having Sam's body around and yet being cut off from his affection, was driving him into a blue funk.
He had to try to fix this.
All or nothing! Either Sam turned his back on him for good and went off on his own, or they would work something out, but Dean could take no more of living in limbo, with Sam cut out from his soul.
x
x
He took a deep breath, made his way to Sam's room and knocked on the closed door.
Once he would just have barged in, but he held back. No need to piss Sam off more than necessary.
"Sam. Sammy!"
He heard a rustling of paper before Sam's voice answered."Yeah, what Dean?"
"Listen, I gotta talk to you, man," Dean replied, keeping the tone of his voice as neutral as possible..
x
The scraping of a chair signalled Sam's approach to the door, which he opened cautiously, as if expecting to see a Wendigo standing there instead of Dean.
Dean was familiar with the shuttered look on his brother's face. It was Sam's "I don't want to talk about it" expression; the pursed lips emphasising it to the nth degree!
"Dean, I .. this isn't the best time. I've got stuff to do..." Sam grunted.
x
Dean held out his hands in a non-threatening way.
"You got it wrong Sam. I don't want to talk about our shit. You told me if we wanted to keep on hunting together, I had to think of us as business partners and not brothers, so I'm gonna try it your way."
He cocked his head. "So let's be partners then. Start out anew. Strictly business."
It was blatantly obvious, going by Sam's bemused expression, that he'd been expecting to hear different words coming from his big brother's mouth, when he'd opened the door.
"What?...Partners?"
"Yeah, Sam," Dean confirmed. "Simple partners, just like you asked; working together without any of the brother crap we've been dragging behind us for years; crap which has gotten us into more trouble than it's worth."
Sam shifted his shoulders uneasily. "Dean, I can't believe you're saying this. .."
But Dean cut him off.
"Oh, I mean it, dude. We hunt together, share a house, share expenses, that's it! No more of the brother stuff.
And... now that we've got this straightened out, I think we should take a trip to the nearest bar for a celebratory drink; a toast to our new, strictly business relationship. You up for it?"
x
"Uh.. Dean. I..um... don't know what to say, " Sam stuttered, glancing at him speculatively, but seeing no dissimulation in his older sibling's clear green eyes.
Dean was serious.
"Good, right, man. This definitely deserves a drink," Sam nodded in agreement
"I'll wait for you in the car, then, " Dean said turning away without another word, back down the corridor into the library.
Unseen to Sam though, Dean was smiling. Maybe he could outfox his big-brained little brother after all!
X
x
Half and hour later the Winchesters were seated at a table in a noisy bar, Dean wolfing down nuts interspersed with gulps of beer, while Sam sat slumped down in his chair, his hand curled around his untouched bottle.
"Wow, Sam," Dean smirked, his roaming eyes assessing the women in the room, apparently the happiest guy in the bar. "Being partners is awesome. I feel as if a burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I gotta give it to you dude, you always know what's right!
We should have done this years ago; lightened up, and put the past behind us.
No more going to extremes to save each other. When the bad one comes along we grieve, burn the body and go on with life.
Find another partner and keep hunting, well in my case anyway.
If something happens to me, Sammy you can choose your own path, keep hunting or finally find yourself that slice of normal that you've always yearned for."
"You're an adult Sam," Dean added, pointing his beer bottle at his brother. "And I've been an ass not realizing it, always trying to treat you like a kid. Just look at you, Sasquatch, you could hammer my ass into next week if you wanted to; not to speak of your big brain. You're a research guru Sam.
I've been deluding myself all these years thinking that you needed me to watch your back. You're perfectly capable of looking out for yourself, man."
x
Sam threw his brother a glance.
Dean seemed perfectly honest in what he was saying and Sam should have felt happy and relieved at his words; so why didn't he?
" You're really serious Dean? No more going to extremes to keep each other alive?"
"You got it, bro, Oops little slip up there Sammy, I meant partner!" he corrected apologetically.
"They were right you know, all of them from Tessa to Death to Bobby. What's dead's gotta stay dead, and the next time it happens that's how it's gonna be," Dean confirmed.
"Now excuse me while I go attend to the needs of that cute little blonde over there at the bar."
x
Sam watched as Dean swaggered over into the personal space of the girl seated at the bar. She turned around annoyed until she saw the attractive man sitting at her side, and any annoyance promptly disappeared.
Sam finally put the neglected bottle of beer to his lips and thought back on all that Dean had said.
The younger Winchester had struggled all his life with his destiny.
He had hated hunting intensely when he was young, but the 'normal' he had always sought had been denied him, and he'd known for years now that neither he nor Dean would ever have that.
They were Winchesters, and any luck they might have would always be bad!
x
When Dean had sworn to him in the Church that there was nothing he would put before him, Sam had felt his soul soar towards the sun.
There was one person in this crappy world who loved him above all else.
Sam had been prepared to die then, at least he would have gone out closing the Gates of Hell, giving up his life in exchange for something useful, but in the end, for him too, nothing came before his brother, before Dean.
He had felt so good then, embraced by Dean, his back against the Impala, their one true home, while all around them angels fell and the heavens were emptied, but none of that had counted because he had Dean by his side hanging on to him for all he was worth and telling him he would look after him.
A perfect moment soon to be pushed aside when he found out just what Dean had done to keep Death from taking him.
x
In all honesty, Sam took part of the blame on himself; he could have gone with Death, but once again he had chosen Dean, though unaware that the price of his continued existence was the possession of his body by an angel.
When he had found out, he'd been so angry with his big brother, but looking over at Dean as he enticed the blonde like a cobra hypnotizes its prey, he thought back on everything he had been prepared to do to save Dean from hell; even going to the lengths of turning both of them into beings like Doc Benton.
Was what Dean had done to keep him alive more wrong than what he had been ready to do for his big brother?
He swiped a hand over his eyes.
He just didn't know any more. The lines between right and wrong were blurred when it came to him and Dean.
x
He had told Dean that they should be partners, no longer work together as brothers because of the dangerous emotional baggage it brought, but Dean was his brother, always had been, always would be.
And how could he ever have forgotten.
x
He whispered his brother's name; no-one should have heard, but he saw Dean's head turn towards him as if he had shouted instead of whispered.
Dean gave the pouty blonde a smile, turned and came towards Sam's table.
x
"You called, partner," Dean asked, falling heavily onto his chair.
"Yeah, I suppose I did," Sam answered. "Didn't know if you'd heard me though."
Dean caught his eyes. "I always hear you Sam, even when you're silent," he stated enigmatically.
"Yeah, I suppose you would," Sam agreed. "That's what brothers do."
Dean quirked an eyebrow. "Brothers, Sam?"
"Yeah, Dean, brothers; we always have been and we always will be, even if sometimes we say and do the crappiest things," Sam admitted, and Dean's heart filled with joy as Sam unleashed one of those smiles Dean hadn't basked in for such a long while.
A true Sammy smile, the smile belonging only to his little brother.
X
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