Written for comment_fic on livejournal
"You seem to be coping a lot better than I am, Sammy." The words were an accusation, and Sam knew it."Pick a fight with someone else, Dean, I'm not up for it."
"You seemed to be up for a fight whenever Dad was around."
"Yeah. So we fought! What are you trying to say Dean?"
"Nothing at all, Sammy. I'm just glad you're dealing with your feelings in a healthy way."
"I'm sorry if you'd feel better if flew off the handle, Dean! I'm sure you'd love the company!"
"Don't act like you understand! If you understood you wouldn't -"
"What, Dean? I wouldn't be able to move on? I would be acting like you? Go ahead, tell me. What you and Dad had, I didn't have! Say it."
"That is bullshit. Dad loved you. He would have done anything for you."
"I loved him too."
"Well, you didn't act like it."
Sam's face went cold and expressionless, but his voice was thick with emotion. "Go to hell, Dean."
Sam turned around abruptly so Dean wouldn't see his tears or his rage or whatever other crap feelings might hit him, but soon he felt Dean's hand on his shoulder spinning him back around. Sam braced himself, unsure if Dean was about to throw a punch.
But all Dean said was, "I'm sorry, Sammy."
And Sam hated himself for it, wanted to kick himself for it, but the first thing he thought was 'That's why you're better than Dad, Dean. Because Dad would never say that.'
But Sam just said, "No problem. Don't worry about it."
Dean sighed. "Look Sam, if you felt bossed around because you're the youngest, fine. But Dad thought of you as the most precious thing in the world. So don't like he didn't."
"Fine," said Sam, refraining from mentioning that being precious is not the same as being included.
"Each other, Sam. That's what we have left. We gotta hold on to each other."
"I know."
"So you might have to stop being such a little bitch."
"And you might have to stop being such a jerk."
"Yeah, we might need to come up with a different plan."
Sam laughed, for the first time in days. Dean gestured to the car, and they both headed toward it, wanting to focus on doing good rather than remembering the bad. While walking, and not looking at Sam, Dean added, "Sorry if I accused you of not, you know, feeling what I feel."
Sam sighed, unsure if it was brave or stupid to be honest. But he decided to say what was on his mind, just this once. "Dean, you were right. I'm not feeling what you feel. I loved Dad. I really did. And I know he loved me. And don't hate me for saying this. But he's not the one who raised me. He's not the one who took care of me, and he's not the one who taught me to be a man. So what you're feeling now for Dad? That's what it would be like if I lost you."
Dean stared at him, moved and angered and even a little bit scared at what Sam had said. But he knew that Sam was telling the truth. So he smiled, and he knew that it must have looked like the saddest damn smile Sam had ever seen, but he smiled. And he gently wiped the tears from Sam's face. And he said, "You know the rule, Sammy. No chick flick moments."
