Sam starred at himself in the mirror, razor poised at his chin, his eyes focused on his reflected eyes. They were the same eyes that he had stared back into for the last 30 years, they were the same eyes that cried when he held his brother's lifeless hell hound shredded body in his hands, they were the same eyes that had to watch as he buried his brother, they were the same eyes that weren't allowed to look behind him when he went off to Stanford, because those eyes, if they had connected with his brother's wouldn't have allowed him to keep moving forward, wouldn't have allowed him the opportunity to try something that wasn't hunting, that wasn't killing things, that wasn't dangerous, that wasn't ultimately fatal. The eyes that reflected back at him, were the same eyes that were always there, they weren't different, and they still held a piece of that sorrow he had felt for the last year, mourning the loss of a big brother, of a teacher, of a mentor, of a lifelong friend, of a protector.
And, today, after Cass' return, and his help with the latest battle between the forces of good and evil, after Dean had a private word with Cass outside of his ear shot, because apparently he wasn't big boy enough to hear everything, he wondered if all of Dean's words had been true when he was under the influence of the specter. He knew that Dean meant most of them, he'd said so himself when they had been in the car after Sam's bold statement that he didn't want to be kicked anymore about Amelia. But he hadn't thought that Dean had meant that Sam hadn't been a good brother. But after watching him with Cass, and seeing Dean's obvious affection and camaraderie with the man, angel, whatever, he was starting to wonder. Even the way Dean treated Benny was different than how he treated Sam. Dean treated them like Sam had always wanted Dean to treat him, with affection, trust, and equality.
"You fall in?" Dean's voice made Sam jerk, causing the razor which was right at his jaw line to cut him, and blood to start to seep from the wound.
"No."
"I know you have all of that goldilocks hair and all and it takes a while to primp and preen but come on dude, we've got places to go, things to kill."
Sam quickly reached for toilet paper and tried to stop the bleeding, and finish shaving. He came out of the bathroom kit in hand and Dean's eyes went to the cut on his chin, and then to his brother's eyes. A small line on Dean's forehead appeared and his eyes tightened.
"You okay?"
"You startled me." Sam responded.
"That's why you should use an electric."
"And risk getting electrocuted like you did?"
"Hey that was a trickster inspired groundhog day, that wasn't normal."
"Not normal is our normal Dean." He said as he put his kit into his duffel and threw it over his shoulder.
"Eh." Dean said as he picked up his bag. "Touché." The men did their final sweep of the room and bathroom and headed out of this week's seedy motel room.
The trunk squeaked as they slammed it shut, the car doors squeaked as they opened and closed the doors and the car sighed with their combined weight as they sat down. However, despite the car's age induced protests her engine purred to life when Dean started her. He took off in the direction of a state highway, rock whispering from the speakers, Dean's fingers drumming in tune with the beat, and Sam's eyes watching as the landscape whizzed past his window.
"So, what you said about me not being a good brother was true wasn't it?" Sam asked suddenly.
"What?" Dean asked confused.
"You said it when you were under the influence of the specter."
"Are we really going to talk about this again?"
"Yes damnit!" Sam exploded. "You said a lot of things."
"I did say a lot of things. And I already told you that I meant most of them."
"Yeah, but you never told me what you didn't mean."
"Oh good God Sam, when did this car become chick flick central?"
"Oh come on Dean! Get over yourself."
"Sam, I'm not in the mood for this."
"No, you aren't ever in the mood for it when you don't initiate it. Dean not everything can happen on your time." Dean sighed sensing there was no way out of this conversation. "Now, what didn't you mean back there?"
Dean licked his lips and tried to repress a sigh. "I didn't mean it." Dean said.
"I don't believe you."
"Then why in the hell do you ask me if you aren't going to believe my answer?"
"Your actions contradict your words."
"What?" Dean asked incredulously. "During the last year did you forget how to speak English?"
Sam glared at his brother. "Oh don't pretend to be stupid Dean! That act gets old."
Dean sighed. "How do my actions contradict my words Sam?" Dean said with aggravation.
"You say that you didn't mean what you said about me not being a good brother or being able to count on me when it counts, but yet, you step out of the car to talk to Cass like he is your equal, and you shut me out."
"We were talking about purgatory…"
"And I don't get to hear about purgatory?"
"I don't really like to rehash it."
"But you'll talk about it with Cass."
"He was there Sam."
"But.."
"Look Sam. I don't understand what you are getting at. Just freaking tell me what I'm doing wrong, and I'll fix it. I don't want to talk about this."
"I want to know what I've done to make you not be able to count on me."
Dean opened his mouth and had every intention to answer his brother when a realization struck him square in the forehead. "You're jealous."
"I am not Dean!"
"You are too! That's the reason we are talking about Cass, and why you hate Benny so much. You are jealous of them."
"That is complete bull shit Dean and you know that."
"Do I? I seem to recall this whole nightmare getting worse when Cass came into the picture."
"That was because you had been dead for over a year Dean. I was a mess."
"So you keep saying. But, I know when I got back you were functional, and you were you and the demon blood addiction wasn't so bad that you were taking shots from a flask in your pocket. That was only after Cass and I started talking more, being friends…that's when the shit hit the fan little brother."
Sam made his patented lying sound and shook his head. "That's not true Dean."
"One of your tells is when you say my name an inordinate number of times. I remember when I questioned you one night about Ruby and you kept assuring me that you weren't drinking demon blood and you kept denying that you were doing anything wrong, you said my name thirty-eight times during that conversation."
"You counted?"
"Yup. That's how I know you are lying. And you have said my name every time you have responded to me since we've been having this conversation."
Sam sputtered, and Dean continued. "So, yes, you were trying to impress me. God it makes so much sense now. Why didn't I see it then? Oh yeah," He snapped his fingers. "I was recovering from Hell and I didn't know if I was pitching or catching or if I was just in one more of Alistair's crewel jokes. That's why I didn't see it."
"Dean…" Dean put a hand up stopping his brother's comments.
"You started this." Dean took a deep breath. "I guess I should be flattered that you are so jealous. But I'm not. I'm damn mad at you."
Sam's eyes narrowed. "I'm so mad that you felt that you had to prove that you were the most important person in my life. God Sam, I raised you. I've loved you since the second I understood that I was going to be your big brother. I fought battles for you at school, when kids were being mean, I fought Bobby once about you." Sam turned sharply to his brother.
"What?"
"Bobby and I got into it when you were young, you were maybe 2. He wanted to make you eat something, I don't' remember very well, I was 6. I stood up to him and said that you didn't have to eat anything you didn't like. I was ready to take you and run away from him, anything to keep you happy and safe. You tore me to shreds when you went to Stanford, but I knew that you needed to go, I defended you to Dad.."
"But you always give ME hell about going to Stanford."
"I know. I said I knew that you needed it, it didn't mean that it didn't make me mad as hell and make me want to slam you against a wall and give you what for. I just said I knew that you had to." Sam turned to look out of the window again. "My entire life has been about you. You keep yelling about having a normal life, about wanting friends and relationships. Well Sam, that's what Cass and Benny are. They are friends, my friends. They've helped me out of scrapes; they've been there through things that I NEVER want you to even contemplate experiencing." Sam stayed silent on the other side of the car.
"Now, Sam, I'm going to say this once, and only once. So listen up. You are my brother. My blood. I love you. I've been to hell for you, and I'd do it again. No one will ever be able to replace you not Benny and not Cass. You are the only brother that I have and will ever have." He paused and let the words sink in. "Now, is this settled? Can we stop talking about this now?"
Sam nodded and looked back out of his window. The big black beast that had helped Sam stop Lucifer cold, the car that housed him his entire childhood, the car that he had taken impeccable care of when his brother had gone to Purgatory and to Hell, the car that his brother prized above all other possessions, ate up the asphalt and seemed to whisper to Sam that Dean was telling the truth, that Dean prized Sam above all things, including the car. And the car seemed to whisper it to him with every mile under her tires.
"Thank you Dean." Sam said quietly. Dean didn't acknowledge the sentiment but he heard it loud and clear.
The Impala, which had comforted Dean in the years he had been alone on the road, comforted him when it was taking his brother's dead body to someplace where he could think and figure out what to do, that had been there, held him up when his brother had taken the big plunge into the pit, which had been a playground for he and Sam when they had nowhere else to play, she seemed to be whispering to him, telling him to comfort his little brother.
"I'm sorry I allowed you to think that." Dean said quietly. Sam didn't acknowledge the sentiment but he heard it loud and clear.
The car squeaked and hummed along the road, at ease because the two she cared most about were at ease. That's why things got resolved in the Impala, because she banished the green eyed monster, eased the anger, provided the isolation to have these conversations, provided a home for the two homeless boys who had so many emotions and had no idea how to express them, nor how to handle them. She took comfort that at least for the moment, tensions were eased and the green eyed monster had been vanquished.