Disclaimer: I do not own or make any profit from Supernatural or any other mentioning in this fictional story.
A/N: Random one-shot. Just some good 'ol fashioned brotherly love and bickering 'cause I've missed it...
Timeline: Takes place during later seasons.
Summary: No matter the distance or differences between brothers, Superman will always be needed to save the day...
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Superman
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The mid-day Texas heat beat down on the sleek, black 1967 Chevy Impala as it pulled into the mostly empty parking lot of a dingy, one-story 2 star motel off of Route 66. The exterior of the place looked like it had seen better days, the once vibrant yellow paint long faded and peeling off the exterior wall. It looked like something out of "Psycho", Alfred Hitchcock's classic horror film. Dean shut off the engine and sighed as he dragged himself tiredly out of the vehicle and made his way towards the main lobby entrance. The single glass door was being propped open by what seemed to be a fake potted plant. The only thing that seemed to be cooling down the ill decorated lobby was a small and dusty electric fan by the check in desk. Sam waited in the car, the suns rays beating down on his legs and arm. Its days like this that Sam really wished Dean had air conditioning in the Impala.
*But noooo* Sam thought bitterly *Dean had to "maintain the "integrity" of the cars original features and honor those who strove for perfection when they put his "Baby" on the road"*
Sam snorted. Dean was so full of crap.
Now here he was suffering in the dry Texas heat, excessive sweat causing his clothes to stick uncomfortably to his body. Even with the windows rolled down, Sam felt nothing but the heated wind hitting him tauntingly in his face. Well, he couldn't complain too much. He felt more sorry for Dean 'cause, while he could get a nice tan from this, Dean tends to turn beet red with a really bad sunburn. Dean, so tough and badass; yet, so sensitive and delicate at the same time. He had to chuckle at this. Sam finally saw Dean making his way out of the lobby, a set of keys in his hand. Dean opened the door, hissing and throwing his hand back as soon as skin met smoldering hot metal.
"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelped as he shook his hand back and forth.
Sam tried to suppress a laugh when Dean threw him a warning glare.
"Sorry." Sam mumbled, a smirk still threatening to escape.
"Its so damn hot out here!" Dean complained as he tried sliding into the drivers seat, but the vinyl seemed to protest to Dean's every move as it battled with Dean's denim covered bottom until he was able to be seated comfortably.
"I said to install A/C." Sam grumbled in a "I told you so" tone .
"Well good for you." Dean responded back sarcastically with a wave of his hands.
Sam just rolled his eyes, "Let's just get to our room already and get some rest. Its been a long day."
Dean silently agreed and started the Impala, hissing again as his hands meet the hot steering wheel. He maneuvered the car towards the very end of the motel a few dozen doors down from the main lobby. Dean parked the Impala and both men climbed tiredly out of the car. Dean popped the truck and they grabbed all their necessary belongings and headed towards the very last grungy white door with room number 317, the 7 hanging slightly off its hinges. Ah, home sweet home. Sam sighed in relief as he and Dean entered their motel room, the A/C hitting his face, and he dropped his bag by the furthest bed on the shabby green carpet.
He jumped face first on the bed, groaning in pain when all he met was a very thin mattress and hard, metal springs, "Ow," he mumbled into the equally thin pillow.
Okay, they've stayed in crappie digs, but this just takes the cake.
He heard Dean chuckling behind him, "Awww, whittle Sammy got a boo boo? Does he need big brother Dean to kiss it all better again?"
Sam turned his head to glare at his brother, "Okay, for one, that was just one time and I was drunk. Besides, you were the one who just threw me on the bed and caused me to bang my head on the headboard."
Dean shrugged at this, "Well, in case you haven't noticed, Sasquatch, you were way too heavy for me to drag your ass in from the car to your bed. So it was either that or the floor."
Sam threw Dean one last glare before turning his head away from him and drifting to sleep. Dean had to smile at this and at the memory of that night a few weeks ago...
(Flashback)
Dean sat next to Sam on the bed, one hand firmly holding the side of Sam's face, keeping him still, while the other gently cleaned up the small cut above Sam's forehead with an alcohol pad. It had been a while since he last took care of his baby brother this way. A hint of guilt knotted Dean's stomach as Sam winced and groaned at the slight burn the pad made when it made contact with the tiny gash. Of course, Dean didn't let that show.
"Oh, suck it up you big baby." Dean said with fane annoyance.
Sam pouted, but things didn't become any easier for Dean. The alcohol in Sam's system caused him to sway to-and-fro and to act fidgety under Dean's hands, "Come on, Sammy. Try to stay still, okay?" Dean asked as he grabbed Sam by the shoulders to keep him steady.
Sam looked at him through half-lidded eyes, a snort escaping his lips, "You have big ears."
Dean glared at him, but decided to let that comment slide...for now. He reached into his bag and pulled out a tube of anti-bacterial cream. He dabbed a small amount on his finger and gently applied it to the cut. Sam winced again, then started to giggle when Dean pulled out a Scooby-Doo band aid, the only one he could find, and placed it over the cut. Dean smiled, satisfied with his work, then stood up to dispose of the trash.
"Dean..." Sam called from behind him "...can you kiss it better like when we were kids?"
Dean's head snapped up at this, his green eyes wide with surprise as he turned to face Sam. He was suddenly met with the saddest hazel puppy-dog eyes, "What?!"
"You know, like when we were little. Every time I got a boo boo, you would kiss it better when you were done taking care of me. I would always feel better right after. It was like you had some kind of super powers that made the hurt go away...like Superman. You're Superman." Sam finished with an overly goofy smile.
Dean's heart clenched at this. He hadn't kissed Sam's boo boos away since Sam was 5 years old. Though it was going to be awkward as hell, Dean couldn't deny those damn puppy eyes, "Yeah, ummm...okay."
Dean hesitantly approached Sam, who had his head down and eyes closed expectantly; peeking occasionally while trying hard to suppress his giggles. Dean finally stood in front of Sam and patted Sam's shoulder, trying to feel as manly as possible, before leaning down towards Sam's head. He hovered above Sam's crown for a moment before he placed a chaste kiss to where the cut was on his forehead above his left eyebrow.
"Thank you!" Sam happily slurred as he pulled Dean into a big 'ol bear hug, then passed out promptly on Dean's shoulder moments later.
Dean chuckled as he gently laid Sam back on the bed and tucked him in for the night. He was sooo going to use this against him later.
*"Big ears" my ass* Dean thought as he placed himself into his own bed and shut off the lamp light.
The next morning, Sam did wake feeling better and a lot more rested than he had in days...and oddly, with no hangover.
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The End