This is a quick one-shot. It was just sitting on my phone from forever ago. And hey, when do we all not want some brotherly fluff, though you can tell I'm a Sam hurt and Dean comfort kinda gal. Set a little after 10x03 'Soul Survivor'.

Sam was always guilty, that and in pain. Sometimes it was phantom pain, a lingering feel of the cage that never left. The other pains were much more literal. The small wounds healed fine but the wounds like what Cole had left behind made each day hard. With no angel healing powers from Castiel Sam found himself struggling with not only the immense weight of responsibility on his shoulder but also the literal pains of wounds. All the suffering seemed moot though. Dean wasn't a demon anymore instead there was a mark of evil on his arm. Sam had once again failed in the task of saving his brother.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Today was one of the harder days. His entire shoulder ached from the over usage of it and his leg had been acting up. It wasn't that difficult to hide his limp from his brother though as the man had remained holed up in his room all day refusing to address Sam.

Ah, guilt, that was the other thing that never abandoned Sam. The recent guilt was over his brother's condition. He'd managed to screw up fixing and saving Dean. There was of course other guilt mixed in there. Guilt from Ruby, guilt from Lucifer, guilt from purgatory, guilt from every little thing he'd ever messed up on. The guilt reached back into ridiculous things like his mother's death and his father's death. Guilt corroded away at him until it had properly become a part of him.

He knew Dean had his fair share of guilt and phantom and psychological pain. No pain physically thank goodness as he'd not been hurt during his time as a demon. Life at this point was a tiresome game of survival and attempted fixing of personal relationships, specifically Sam and Dean's because no one else survived long enough to have to fix their relationship with the two. The lack of lasting friends due to unexpected deaths also was Sam's fault. Kevin the most recent one; someone who had died to save Sam.

At some point the end was going to come and Sam waited patiently for that to happen. He needed out. If only there was some existence where everything goes away and you get to feel nothing. As if. Sam scoffs at the thought and moves the ice pack he has from his shoulder to his leg.

"Sam?" Sam looks up at the sound of his brother's voice. He looks groggy and disoriented as if he's been sleeping. Taking in the pajamas Dean's wearing, Sam comes to the conclusion that that is exactly what Dean had been doing. His brother looks at him more with curiosity than concern.

"You go on a hunt?"

Sam hesitates, considering lying. But haven't they had enough of that?

"No."

His brother doesn't respond verbally instead his brows dip in confusion and he pulls a chair up to the table. Sam understands the question and non verbal prompting for Sam to explain.

Sam waits a moment as he tries to formulate a response.

"I hurt my shoulder and leg."

Dean's eyebrows lift into what Sam knows to be Dean's No-shit-Sherlock face. When Sam wasn't forthcoming Dean spoke.

"How?"

Sam shifts the ice pack again as his knee gave a painful twinge.

"A while back, it's more umm.. Permanent damage?"

Sam phrases it as a question not sure if those were the right words. Dean just nods without answering. He sat for a moment and then got up. Sam watchs him walk back to his room and feels a small roll of hurt go through his gut. He'd hoped, at least a small part of him had, that Dean would care just a little bit. Sighing he buries his head in his hands. He really wanted to give up sometimes. His head came up though when he saw Dean come back into the room a bottle of pills in his hand and a cup of what Sam thought was juice.

Sam wipes at his face quickly as tears he hadn't realized had come out slide down his face. Dean doesn't say anything, just sits down again after sliding his chair closer to Sam. He opens up the bottle and holds out two pills. Sam gratefully takes them and pops them into his mouth.

Dean doesn't speak but Sam could tell his brother wanted to know the story. Sam doesn't talk just drinks the juice and tries not to cry. Dean seems to understand and goes off into the kitchen where he begins making breakfast. Sam seems to pull himself together and hobbles back to his room where, ironically, he changes into his pajamas. Something told him that today was a lazy day, the premonition was strengthened by the smell wafting from the kitchen. Dean was cooking what smelled like an edible heaven.

Stomach growling Sam went into the kitchen. For the first time he let the hurt he'd been feeling show, so Sam wasn't surprised when he feels Dean's eyes on him as he limps without constraint around the kitchen, pulling out milk from the fridge. Scooching closer to Dean, Sam peers over Dean's shoulder to take in the sight of bacon, eggs, sausage and hash browns.

Sam frowns. Delicious but something was missing. Sam goes back to the fridge and pulls out their surprisingly large store of fresh fruit. He pulls out oranges, strawberries, blue berries, blackberries, and raspberries.

He steps past Dean and begins rinsing them off and cutting them up to place in a bowl. Dean just glances over at him from the corner of his eye. Sam can tell Dean is worried about him. Dean also knows that patience is the only way Sam is going to say anything.

Dean continues pittering away until two plates are piled high with everything, including some muffins Sam hadn't realized were in the oven. Sam pours the glasses of milk and follows Dean who is just as stacked with food. They by pass the dining room and go into where the couch is and the tv. Dean slips the two plates onto the coffee table and grins at Sam in a way that makes Sam grin back.

It has been way too long since they've kicked back. Both pajama clad the two set in for movie marathons and eating the plates of Dean's deliciousness. They nap and they watch tv. Mostly they don't say anything at all. Around one, Dean finds himself turning to Sam.

"Sam, what happened?"

Sam stiffens at this and continues staring straightforward at the episode of Firefly that is currently playing. They'd promised Charlie to watch it.

"I-um-it was when you were-"

He falls short and Dean hears the unspoken words of dead and demon and just straight up gone. Dean feels his well worn guilt stir inside his stomach.

"Cole was trying to get you. He tortured me."

Dean then feels anger bristle in him. But it stops when he sees tears leaking out of Sam's eyes.

"I thought you were gone Dean. I didn't think I was going to get you back."

Sam's voice is tight and barely above a whisper.

"You were a demon and then I found everything broken about me was on the outside. I just keep failing you, no matter what I do or how much I wish I didn't"

Sam lets out a painful sob and folds in on himself. Dean gently rubs Sam's back, slow gentle circles of comfort.

"I still wonder if we can fix you."

Dean can barely discern what Sam said through the tear congested voice. Dean pulls Sam to him and Sam wraps his arms around his brother. They sit that way, leaned back into the couch, each folded into the other, until Sam's breathing becomes normal.

"When the mark is gone Sam, we're going to stop. Just everything. Then it'll just be you and me Sammy. No more hunting, no more saving and breaking the world. I promise."

Sam hnn's in agreement and they both fall asleep. Because in the end, no matter how it all ended up hashing out, they were all they ever needed, and that seemed to be just enough.

See, all gooey and girly. But I needed it when I wrote it and hey, I figured you guys would like it too.