Aftermath

Summary: Spoilers for 6.01: Exile on Main St. He did what Sam wanted, but nothing felt like it was making sense.

Note: Right, yes...I still don't own Supernatural. I've been working on it for the last five years in case you haven't noticed, and apparently I've failed miserably. Song lyrics belong to Jared Leto and 30STM and I'm not trying to take credit for those either. They're pretty, and sparkly and I love them, but I don't own them.

And I fell apart

But got back up again

-Alibi; 30 Seconds To Mars

"Dean?" Lisa ran her fingers across his chest, no longer shocked at this point in their relationship when she found scars on his body that she didn't remember. "Dean, are you okay?"

Dean almost laughed; he'd been hearing that a lot lately. Ever since Sam came back, since he found out that his brother had been alive all year; that all the time he'd spent praying, screaming, researching and exhausting his liver…Sam had been walking the same ground as him. For a whole year, Sam had been alive and he was the only one who didn't know.

He'd never been okay. No, he wasn't okay.

"Yeah," Dean nodded his head, burying his face in the comfort between her shoulder and neck. "I'm fine."

Just peachy.

Lisa sat up, looking down at him. He was gorgeous, and good to her, and he treated her son like he was his-Dean Winchester was all she'd ever wanted, and for every single flaw he might have, it didn't change anything. The same things that Dean thought were flaws, were what made her feel safe. She knew these strange, terrible things existed in the world, and she also knew that Dean would always protect them from all of them.

"You don't need to pretend with me, Dean. You never need to pretend with me."

Dean laid back, turning and resting his head on the pillow. All those years of motels; he'd forgotten how good a real bed felt. Crisp sheets, clean pillows, thick walls, lush carpets and an alarm clock that woke him up playing exactly the song that it was programmed to play. No more crap coming across the radio. That was different too. Thursdays were always Metallica. He still hated Thursdays.

"I'm not pretending." Dean said, defending himself. It killed him sometimes the way she seemed to see right through him. He wondered sometimes how she could know him so well and still want anything to do with him. "I'm great."

He was damn lucky that she would even accept a pathetic mess like him. He was hardly able to keep himself together some days.

"The nightmares are back." Lisa said, "You know that, right? I tried to wake you up yesterday, when you were taking a nap on the couch."

"Sorry." Dean said. He thought they didn't happen as often anymore. In a way, just knowing that Sam was alive was a burden that was lifted off of his chest.

He was living the life that Sam had spent twenty-two years wanting, and his brother was living the life that their dad wanted. None of it made any sense to him at all. Knowing that Sam was alive though and hunting-hunting without him-sometimes that scared him to death.

"You were yelling for Sam-Sammy." Lisa corrected herself, her eyes softening as she looked down at him. "You're worried about him, aren't you?"

"Sam's-" Dean's voice caught in his throat. "Sam can take care of himself."

He remembered the dream she was talking about. God, did he ever. He remembered clawing at the ground, trying to dig his brother out…

Dean bit his lip, the image causing the rift in his chest to implode on him. How? How could Sam dig himself out and never let him know? In so may ways, this had been one of the worst years of his life.

"Dean…" Lisa sighed, "I'm sorry. I promised myself, I wouldn't ever press you, I'm just worried."

"You can ask me anything, Lisa. Anything." I just don't know if I'll tell you the truth. It wasn't because he didn't trust her, he would put his life in her hands-there was only so much that she should have to be burdened with.

"You told me you've always hunted with him, Dean. God knows, I'm glad you're here with us…" Lisa rested a hand on Dean's face. "You don't need to close yourself off from all of that. It just feels like you're not comfortable sometimes. Like you feel like you need to keep yourself-that part of yourself separate. There's no part of you that I don't love. There's nothing about you that Ben doesn't not love. You're a hero."

God, he didn't deserve her. He didn't deserve either one of them.

"I heard you on the phone with Sam last week." Lisa said. "You miss him, don't you?"

"He's my brother." Dean said simply, "No matter how much, or how often he pisses me off…I'm always going to love him. No matter how much changes…"

"You don't have to keep him secret." Lisa didn't know any better way to say it than to just come out and say it. "Your brother is welcome here any time-any time you want him here."

"Don't you think it would be potentially a little confusing for Ben to see my dead brother in his house?"

He wondered sometimes, how many times could they keep coming back from the dead and still be themselves. How human were they?

"Our house." Lisa corrected. "And Ben understands, Dean. You know, maybe if Sam gets away from it a little bit…it would be good for him. Maybe Sam would stop hunting too."

Was it so wrong that the thought of that made him happy? Was it so wrong that he considered how good it would be to wake up every day and not wonder if his brother was alive?

Hadn't they done enough? They'd lost everything they'd have cared about a few times over. Wasn't it their turn to get something?

Was it wrong that for once, that they deserved to really live?

As much as he loved Lisa, there were things about himself that he couldn't ever tell her.

There were things about himself that he didn't even want to face for himself.

I can't keep letting him down; I can't keep watching Sam die. He'd sworn to always protect his little brother, but he didn't know how to do it anymore. It was so big, everything had gotten so big, and he didn't know how to do it. I can't keep failing him.

No matter what happened, they were still brothers; and he would lay down his life for Sam. He spent the entire year trying to do anything he could to dig his brother out of the cage and yeah, he was pissed, he was pissed to hell that Sam had been up here for a whole damn year hunting with their so-called 'family' and he didn't know a damn thing about it.

Some days he had missed his brother so bad, he felt so guilty for not protecting him, that he wished to God the earth would swallow him up and he'd die too. Every time he'd tried to save Sam, he'd failed.

He couldn't fail again. He couldn't live with himself letting his brother's life slip through his fingers again.

I was supposed to always protect you, but I haven't been able to, not once. Not once when it really counted.

"Sam?" Lisa wiped her hands on the dishtowel, almost feeling guilty when she answered Dean's cell. "No, no this is Dean's cell."

When she saw the caller ID though, and Dean wasn't around, she couldn't help herself. He wouldn't want to miss a call from his brother. She could see in Dean's eyes, every day, he was worried about Sam.

"He's out back." Lisa told him, "How are you, Sam?"

She moved around the kitchen slowly, killing time and waiting for a response. Sam seemed like a really nice guy. She knew that she didn't know him, really the things she knew about Dean's brother she could count on one hand.

"Good," Sam told her, "Busy. I've been busy."

One. She knew that Sam had gone to Stanford.

"The world's in good hands then." Lisa told him. "You're looking out for yourself, right?"

"Everyday." Sam said, "Dean taught me well-you can tell him that."

Two. Dean basically raised him.

"You bet I will." Lisa bit her lip, and decided to stop procrastinating. "Okay, I'm heading out to the yard to look for him now. I think he's playing some soccer with Ben."

"You know, this really isn't important." Sam told her. "If he's busy-"

Three. He was as gorgeous as his brother.

"No," Lisa said quickly, looking in the yard for Dean and Ben. "He's…Dean!"

Lisa waved him over from the back of the porch, seeing him catch the ball that Ben kicked in his direction.

In essence, nothing. She knew nothing about Sam Winchester-oh, wait, and that he came back from the dead. That was about it.

"Your phone!" She held it away from her ear and pointed.

"It was nice talking to you, Sam." Lisa said, as Dean jogged over. "I hope you don't make yourself a stranger. You're welcome here anytime."

Dean was standing in front of her now as she listened to Sam talk about how nice her that was to say.

"I mean it." Lisa handed the phone over to Dean. "It's your brother."

"Sam?"

Lisa listened to the beginning strains of the conversation as she walked over to where Ben was.

"Really? You okay?"

"So," She asked her son, watching him catch the soccer ball in his hands and throw it into the air. "Do you still play with your mom, or have I been totally replaced?"

Ben dropped the ball on the ground and grinned, kicking it toward her.

"Not totally."

Sorry if this was a little disjointed...I haven't had as much time to edit as I'd like, and I've got an ornery paper calling my name, and its 2:20 am.