BE SAFE WITH ME BROTHER

Door slams, all the goodness...the hope from their lives closed out with it. Door slams, Sam jumps, eyes squeeze shut as if he can block out the pain of what is happening to them. The disappointment, the crushing weight of some sort of failure on their part, the agony that they're not enough.

How does losing someone you barely even know feel like it's tearing everything from you? Sam feels as though someone has reached down his throat and is scooping his insides hollow. He can feel the panic and the coldness of being rejected surrounding him. It's a paralysis wrapping around his mind and heart, it's Dean's face...the utterly shattered look there.

No! He finds himself crying out inwardly. This isn't how it's supposed to go, Dean had earned this, he deserved this. He can see the one panicked thought stuck in Dean's mind, heart...stuck on his face. The gut-punched expression on his face screaming...

...I lost her again.

His brother takes another staggering step back. Away from the spot she had just stood in, away from the hurt, away from the enemy. Away from Sam. He watches breaths rise and fall so rapidly in his brother's chest. His eyes are still down cast, he hasn't met anyone's eyes since she unveiled her intention of leaving.

And Sam thinks he should be ready for this, be ready for Mary. Should be angry at her or be ready to defend her, but there's only a numbness there in his chest where his heart should be. A numbness that eases and warms and disappears when he looks at his devastated brother.

Dean folds in on himself. Arms crossed over his chest but it's more like a protective hug. Mouth drawn in a thin line, eyes sparkling and red. Haunted, but absolutely dry. The wrinkles and age stand out with the whiteness of his skin, and Sam can't help but wonder when did this little lost boy begin to look so old?

Sam can't imagine what his brother feels now. Can't imagine the confusion, the hurt, the disappointment. Sam knows he has to reach out to him now, or they'll never talk about it. Dean will lock up if they don't, he will anyways. You don't get this hurt and do nothing about your self-defenses. He's watching Dean's walls double, triple right in front of his eyes.

But tears are there in Sam's eyes as Dean's shattered expression doesn't fade, as he just stands there looking at the floor.

Sometimes there's no help for the hurt. Sometimes there's no healing, sometimes...it's there forever. And Sam finds fear, cold and strong and rational grab hold of his heart. His brother isn't ready for this, would have never been. No one is meant to lose the same parent twice.

Sam never knew her, associates these few days with the one time he met her, with that one time he saw her so many years ago back home in Lawrence. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him, but they were just little gifts...more than he ever expect to have.

But Dean, Dean's soul had recognized her immediately. Things he had forgotten about those four happy, golden years had flooded back to him. Smiles, touches, conversations...they came back to him and he smiled looking into the future knowing she was there, knowing they would be remaking those memories.

Now they mock him and his breaking heart, the crushing weight of hopes and expectations dashed to pieces. That part of him so long quiet and dormant had woken and given Mary the throne over him. Because it was mom. And she had been taken from them, but she was back. Dean would never let that happen again...and she would never chose to leave them.

Sam takes a step towards him, hands slightly raised like somehow he can help, like somehow he can lift the weight. Like somehow he can hold his bigger brother together, put the pieces back in place, keep the avalanche of Dean's life from tumbling down around his ears. Before Sam's very eyes.

Air is sitting stale and useless in his lungs as he watches Dean take another retreating step back. No, no, no. Sam thinks dimly, 'don't turn away, let me help you!' And at the same time, 'don't turn away from me! Don't leave me alone, please help me through this Dean!'

And it's the same agonizing feeling Sam feels every time Dean is hurt. His brother pulls away, in hurt panic, he can't even recognize friend from foe, brother from enemy. Sam has to show him, has to force his loving care on Dean. Make him see, 'you're not alone, someone still cares, your safe with me.'

Be safe with me brother, cries out his plea.

"Dean..." he barely whispers out. Hand reaching closer than ever.

It's the last straw. Dean bolts, leaving Sam standing in the rush of air that hints at his swift departure. Smells like him, leather, fine whiskey...his aftershave. Sam thinks he can smell the saltiness of hurt and the sharpness of bitterness in the air, or maybe he can feel it.

Hand clenches in empty, cold, cold air. His ears echo the sound of Dean's boots making a hurried getaway, searching for a safe place, somewhere safe from Mary, somewhere safe from him. How does it still hurt so much?

He leans back against the cased opening and closes his eyes against the dim lighting of the library and the cold, brash reality of their lives closing in on him. Head falls back against the wood with a hollow thunk. Body slides down the smooth, finished material easily enough. He ends at the bottom hitting the floor with a muffled thump. Long legs bend at the knees, just-as-long arms wrap around them.

He wants to be okay. He wants to be bigger and stronger than this. But he's not. His soul is aching for Dean, for the big brother reassurance, the strong presence of the man he respects and loves so much.

While Sam aches for Dean to let himself be safe with him, he's also longing,

Come make me safe brother.

...

Icy tendrils wrap around him. He's not sure if it's because he's losing her again or if it's because of Moriarty's freezing grip he'd had on his heart. A terrifying mix of sadness and a struggling, weak anger make his eyes burn and stay turned to the floor. Sam shudders and jumps at the door slamming shut. Dean's very being repeats the reaction.

How does one cope with this? How does he deal with losing her again? How does he deal with her leaving him, turning her back on him by choice? How can he let her go? How does he not lock her up safe and sound? How does he let her leave him behind again?

By eyes locked on the floor, by fisting hands and taking a step back from her as she reaches to surround him in that familiar yet still blissfully mysterious embrace and loving warmth. How does she do it? How does she leave them, how does she abandon her only family left?

She can do it, he realizes. Had done it before. She wasn't John, she didn't raise them to stick together no matter what. She died; and taught them to survive no matter what. She was born and bred hunter, she was the cunning, cold wolf. She was the strong independent person who knew what she needed. Who knew she needed time.

Not Dean. Not Sam. Definitely not the two codependent, barely operable hunters who called themselves her sons. And suddenly in the ache, the war of the mess of his heart he's proud of her, is amazed by the strength. Strength he'd never had, would never have.

He needs his family, he needs to be needed, he needs to be loved. He needs Sam like the air he breathes, and as much as he thought he would feel the same about his mom. It wasn't.

Unlike Sam, he could let her go. He could bear the hurt and the anger and the confusion if she was good, if she did what was best for her. It quakes his foundations, it shakes his soul...it makes him question himself, Sam, his life...but nevertheless he stands cold and shocked in the library and lets her go.

He let her go.

Arms lift unconsciously to hide his shivering chest, he tries to count his breaths and pulse to calm himself. Sam reaches for him and he wants to help Sam. God, what is this like for the kid? Hasn't he been through enough? He wants to shout angrily.

Eyes are still on the floor. It's a security, he's in control there. He's not breaking things with rage, he's not sobbing with heartache. But he's closing Sam out like this. And right now their bond is a curse. He's feeling waves of the same emotions he's suffering from coming off his little brother. Sam is feeling everything Dean had tried to protect him from.

Yes, Sam hadn't known their mom, but at least he didn't know the pain and regret Dean did, at least that one trial was spared him. He wants so badly to reach out to his brother now. Wants to help him, wants to wrap him up and keep him safe and sound somewhere.

But he knows deep down, and it stings him so badly, that he's no where near being stable enough to help anybody. Sam's face is so lost, is so open, unprotected. Dean would kill himself if he hurt Sam right now. He needs to screw his head on straight, he needs some space, some air...needs to stop this freezing, constricting, terrifying feeling in his chest.

His brother reaches for him, barely chokes out his name and that's Dean's breaking point. Little brother is so vulnerable right now. It would be so easy to break him. God, Dean probably wouldn't even have to try. Knowing himself he would hurt Sam all to easily, would break him without even knowing, without even speaking or moving.

So he runs.

He leaves the room, hand over the place where Moriarty had left his icy marks. He thinks he's only imagining the icy streaks that's shooting from his chest. Thinks it's only the torture from this day, from himself for turning his back on his brother. For running scared because he believes he can't control himself when he's this vulnerable.

So he turns away to hurt on his own, thinking,

Be safe from me brother.

...tbc

REVIEW FOR MORE!

(Some hurt!dean and so much more feels and fluff on its way.)

Guys, the ending of the episode totally caught me off guard! Like literally my heart was broken into shatters. :(((((