Summary: Written in honour of the season five finale. I need to mull over it to decide whether or not I liked it. But I will truly miss watching Supernatural on Thursdays, and then talking about it on Fridays.
Title: You Can Still Call Me Sammy
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
"Dean?"
"Mmmm?" Dean said around the pen in his mouth as he flipped through the newspaper.
"I- You can call still me Sammy." Sam blurted out before he lost his nerve.
"What?" Dean looked up, eyes narrowing in confusion.
"I mean- I know I told you Sammy's a chubby twelve year old but I-"
"What? Changed your mind? You miss being called Sammy?" Dean asked incredulously.
"Well. Maybe." Sam looked down at his lap. "I know I haven't been Sammy for a long time, before the demon blood and Ruby, but-" Sam trailed off and hesitantly met his brother's eyes, hope shining in their depths.
"Yeah, turn off the light, would ya, Sasquatch?" Dean said, turning over onto his side.
Sam's face fell and he desolately got up and flipped the light switch, throwing the room into darkness. He got beneath the covers, lying on his back and looking up at the ceiling.
"Don't pout, princess." Dean said with a sigh.
Sam frowned, "jerk." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He didn't expect things to be different. Didn't expect his brother to forgive him for setting Lucifer free. For choosing Ruby, for breaking the last seal. Even for leaving for Stanford.
"Night, Sammy." Dean called out, lightly and Sam smiled.