AN: So, I really liked the new ep, I think it's setting up for a lot (the Campbell's were about the only thing I got slant eyed about) but I know a lot of people are having a hard time with Sam's change in personality.I don't really; I just think he deserves a good punch in the face lol. I guess this is a catharsis for that. So I hope you like. It's short, kind of. And there are SOME SLIGHT SPOILERS for the next few eps. Just to warn you. I wrote this kind of fast, within an hour, so if it's not great, sorry. I just...I felt like they deserve something like this *shrug*
Disclaimer: not mine.
The first time Sam calls Dean after the whole Djinn thing, it's for a job. It's not to talk about his day, or shoot the shit, and Dean closes his eyes and sighs as he rubs his brow. He gives in after Sam gets particularly obnoxious about his current dilemma.
He returns home after everything is over and Lisa is waiting for him, arms crossed over her chest and there's something about the look on her face that makes his stomach twist.
"This is never gonna stop, is it?"
He tells her no, that it won't, cause as much as he wants to continue the domestication he's settled into here, Sam is back and he's never been able to tell the kid no. He says that Sam won't call as much, that Sam understands and wants him to be here (even if, after the Djinn incident, he doesn't quite believe that) but Lisa shakes her head.
"I can't be the woman wondering if you're going to come home." She whispers, staring out the kitchen window into the dark. She fiddles with a necklace on her collarbone, a gold chain with a simple charm that Dean had given her for her birthday. "I won't, Dean." She looks down. "Maybe...maybe it would be best if you went with him for awhile."
He's quiet, and he looks down at his hands as he rubs them together, and chooses his next words carefully. "You kicking me out?" He asks softly.
She turns to him and there are tears in her eyes. "I'm letting you go. You're staying here out of an obligation you feel to keep us safe. You stay with us because you've been here a year and you feel like you can't leave."
"I love you. Both of you." He insists emphatically, and he means it. She nods as she swallows hard.
"I know." She walks up to him and grabs his hands with her own. "I know you do. But you love Sam more. And you need this more than we need you."
He stares at her as if she's struck him, because this hurts deep inside, even though he knows later that it's the right thing to do. He stayed with them when Sam first asked him to join him because he did love them, but he also wonders if the denial had been childish. He had offered the Sam the Impala as a gesture of good faith, his most prized possession and a part of him and Sam had said no, and it had hurt to. So he stuck to his guns, told Sam no, because a part of him had wanted to hurt his brother like he hurt him. Because, seriously, a year? The first thing Dean had thought of when he popped up in Illinois was finding his brother-Bobby had just been the easiest path to do that. And Sam can't even give him a heads up? He was enraged. Who was Sam to decide what was best for him? He was the older brother here. Did Sam really not get him at all?
After he leaves Cicero, he tracks Sam to a hotel outside of Toledo and knocks on the door of his room with his duffel thrown over his shoulder. Sam raises his eyebrows, but says nothing and steps aside, letting his brother come inside and throw the bag on a bed before sitting on an armchair, only to realize there is only one King sized bed in the middle of the room. Dean swears.
"It's fine," Sam says. "I'll take the floor. You look like you need a good nights rest."
They don't talk about why he's here or what happened with Lisa, just like they don't talk about Lucifer and his cage. They end up hearing from Cas (finally; it's been over a year, and apparently, things have been busy upstairs) and meet up with him, and Sam's Charger is soon...indisposed, forcing him to once more to sit in the Impala with his brother as they continue on the road. The first time Sam slides awkwardly into the passenger side once more, shifting every five minutes as if he's getting re-used to the feel of it, Dean realizes the reason Sam didn't take the car back in Cicero isn't because he didn't want it, but because it was just as hard for him as it was for Dean. The realization kills a bit of the anger still simmering within.
Hunting with Sam is different now. Sam is harder than before, and more blunt with victims. He is no longer the puppy dog eyed, sympathetic person he once was and Dean finds himself slipping into the conciliatory role than he ever has before. He doesn't say anything about though, just continues to act like nothing has changed although Sam is very aware of the confused and almost disgusted glances his brother throws at him from time to time.
Their grandfather and the rest of the Campbell's don't help the situation either. Samuel is very much all about the job, and there is something sinister in the way he operates, at least from Dean's point of view. He pushes back against what the man wants time and time again, because when he thinks about it, he knows while his mother loved her father, that she certainly didn't agree with the way he approached the hunting lifestyle and Dean doesn't want to do anything else that he thinks she wouldn't want for them.
He gets in between the brothers, the bond Samuel and his namesake have formed in the past year causing conflict between the two that escalates until one night, in some crappy motel in the middle of nowhere, tensions reach an all time high and Dean just slugs him, square in the jaw and he doesn't stop. Sam fights back and they end up making a mess of the room, broken chairs and lamps everywhere until its just the two of them breathing heavily and bleeding, holding their nearly broken hands and ribs.
"You feel better?" Sam asks softly. Dean snorts at him.
"A little." He replies, shifting with a wince. "Certainly ain't as young as I once was."
Sam scoffs and rises with a wince, grabbing the ice bin before he exits the room without a word. Dean just stares off in silence and moves to the bed. When Sam comes back, he fashions two ice packs out of old Wal-Mart plastic sacks and towels and hands one to Dean who nods in approval. They sit in silence before Dean finally decides to speak.
"What happened to you?" He whispers, shifting the ice bag over his eye. "I mean, I get it. Like, Hell; I do. And I get that you were Lucifer's designated driver and that was probably worse than wherever I was, but dammit man. I used to have to drag you out of burning buildings. You could seem to care less about anything but getting the job done."
Sam clears his throat. "Things change. People change." He moves the ice pack to his swelling lip with a wince, and Dean shuffles through his shaving bag for some pretty heavy painkillers, taking two before tossing the bottle to his brother. "Look at what I caused doing what I thought was right."
"Doesn't mean you stop giving a shit."
"The definition of insanity, Dean, is doing the same thing but expecting different results." He gave his older brother a withering glance. "Hunting's a messy business. You know that."
"But it involves people, Sam. If we learned anything from last year...isn't that it? It's the people we save that matter."
"It is, it is! But sometimes...we can't save everyone." He shrugged. "I'm sorry if you're...disappointed with me, Dean." And he sounds truly wounded, won't look at his brother.
"Never Sammy." He pats his brother on the shoulder as he rises, walking towards the sink to throw the bag of ice away before laying down. He takes Sam's as well, motions toward the pillows. "Mad as hell, irritated and ready to beat the crap out of you. Never disappointed kid."
And then he thinks it's a miracle, but Sam-Sammy, his Sammy, his kid brother-smiles up at him with big hazel, puppy dog eyes and for a second, its the kid who always was such a pain in the ass, the kid that followed him around his entire life, the kid he helped fucking raise. He kind of wants to cry.
He flicks the light off and watches his brother settle in and hopes he can sleep soundly because he's definitely been aware of Sam's soft moans and cries from nightmares in the middle of his slumber. Sam is turned toward the bathroom, away from Dean, and his eyes are shut tightly. Dean wonders if he's already asleep; the pain killers he gave him are pretty powerful, and its part of the reason he's done it. After everything, he wants to give some semblance peace to the guy.
"You're still a bitch." He mutters, laying down now, his body curled away from Sam. It feels like it's been forever since they've done this, had a simple brotherly fight that didn't involve something like the end of the world, and talked-but not really talked-about what was bothering them. It feels so long since they've been just brothers with brother issues and even though they have their problems, it's so refreshing to not have the literal world on their shoulders.
He thinks Sam is asleep and he closes his eyes and evens his breath and he's at that point right before sleep where your body feels kind of floaty and you're just about to succumb when he hears it. He knows he hears it, that its not just his imagination or a dream.
"Yeah, well you're still a jerk. Guess some things never change."
Dean falls asleep almost immediately, and there's a smile on his face that doesn't fade all night. Sam is different; he can be cold, and hard, and seemingly undisturbed by collateral damage. But, when it comes down to it, he's still his kid brother. And for now, after everything they've been through, that's just enough for him.