Disclaimer: Nothing related to Supernatural belongs to me. I'm just having a little fun.


MEDITATIO

By: Vanessa Sgroi

Dean rolled over, sought to get comfortable again on the memory foam mattress then sighed regretfully. He had to pee. Grumbling, he got out of bed and padded sleepily down the hall to the bunker's bathroom. After quickly finishing his business, the hunter washed his hands then scrubbed a hand over his face before running it through the messy spikes of his rampant bed-head. Grunting, Dean headed back down the hall intent on getting back to sleep as quickly as possible.

Passing by his brother's room, Dean heard low music and a soft murmuring coming from behind the door. Curious, he reached for the knob and turned it, surprised when it gave under his fingers. Pushing the door open, Dean leaned into the opening and glanced around the softly lit room. He spied Sam sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor with his eyes closed.

Frowning, he muttered into the gloom, "Sam, what're you doing?"

"I'm meditating," returned Sam in a low, even voice.

"Meditating? I always knew you had hippy tendencies but… What's that noise you're playing?"

Even with Sam's eyes closed, Dean knew there was an eye roll in there somewhere. "It's Gregorian chanting, Dean. Don't you recognize it?"

Dean snorted softly. "Why would I know Gregorian chants? So why are you meditating?"

"Because it's good for you."

"Uh huh."

"It is. Besides it is helping me…cope." A wrinkle snaked across Sam's forehead before quickly smoothing out. "You know? I mean—with everything that's going on…" Sam let his voice trail off.

"Ahh. Yeah. That's what beer and whiskey are for, Sammy."

"Yeah, 'cause that works so well. You should give this a try, Dean."

"Nah."

Sam's eyes popped open, and there was an oddly pleading look in their depths. "C'mon. Sit down across from me."

Dean groaned. "Seriously?"

"Ten minutes."

Dean caved and folded himself into a position mirroring Sam's on the floor. "Now what?"

"Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and let it out."

The older hunter did as he was told. "And?"

"Now even out your breathing. And…uhhh…fall into yourself."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Blank out everything and let your mind drift."

Dean tried. He did. But the more he let his mind drift, the more images from Purgatory and Hell intruded. He began to fidget.

Sam could see the tension flow through his brother. "Dean, you're supposed to relax."

Dean's eyes opened and he sighed, staring at his brother with a somber expression. "How do you do it, Sam?"

"Do what?"

"This. Meditate and relax? Don't you see…things…images…Hell?"

"I…I do. But since Cas did his thing…took the burden away…it's muted. Kinda washed out and vague. It's there but easy to bury."

"Oh." Dean cast his gaze down to the floor, ashamed to feel a twinge of jealousy. "That's good then." He looked up when Sam stood. Dean frowned when Sam headed for the door. "Where're you going?"

The corner of Sam's mouth tipped upward. "To get us a couple of beers. When I get back, I'm going to restart the chants from the beginning." He ducked out the door.

"Bring me some chips!" Dean called after him.

"No eating chips while meditating, Dean!"

"Pie?"

"No!"

"Spoilsport," Dean grumbled under his breath as he closed his eyes.

FIN