A/N: Winchester communication is fun to me. It's like another language. Emotions don't come easy except in life-threatening situations (luckily, there are lots of those), but it's there and deep and real. It just presents itself in ways most people can't usually understand. Just a snippet.

Summary: Dean cares about his brother and Sam knows it. If no one else could tell from their conversations, well who the hell cared what they thought? Powers!Visions!Sam.

Not Worth It

Dean sighed and rubbed his forehead, closing the book in front of him. Three deaths in the area so far. Sam hadn't found anything with his own research the day before and now Dean was turning up nothing too. Whatever this thing was, it was good at covering it's tracks.

The oldest Winchester looked over at the bed Sam was sitting on, head in a book not involving the case. Dean would never understand how reading another freakin' book could be considered a break.

"You got anything Sammy?" He wasn't talking about the research and they both knew it, but he still had a hard time putting it into words.

The mop of hair he called his brother shook his head and looked up almost apologetically. Before he could say anything, Dean cut him off.

"Good."

"Good? This is what we do, Dean. If this helps us save people-"

"I don't like what it does to you." Dean didn't like being even this close to the issue, but he couldn't let Sam dwell and end up thinking it was his fault if they didn't catch this thing before it got to anyone else, because that was just what his little brother was starting to do. Dean could tell from the lines around his eyes. "I don't like seeing you hurt. It's not worth it."

Dean refused to look at Sam and his brother was quiet, surprised at Dean telling him he cared in such a straightforward way. His brother showed it all the time in actions and roundabout words, but he was never open with it.

"It's not that bad. It always goes away." Sam tried to assuage his brother's fears, even if Dean wouldn't admit that that was what it was. Dean scoffed and pretended to go back to the book.

"Yeah, and leaves you with the mother of all bloody noses and a killer headache for days." Dean was still going for nonchalant, but edging closer to that bristly, protective older brother mode where he wanted to lash out at the thing causing Sam pain. The fact that there was nothing for him to lash out at probably only agitated him more. "Not to mention the screaming nightmares."

Sam thought it might be strange to someone to see that he was smiling, really smiling as Dean recounted the horror and pain Sam went through with the visions; that it would only bring fear and a cold chill to his mind. But Sam felt warm in a way that he only ever did around his big brother. Dean might not say that he loved him, they might act like asses to each other at times, but they loved each other more than anything.

Dean would do anything for Sam and even if Sam wouldn't say it, same as Dean not saying how much he cared, Sam knew that and appreciated it and loved his brother for it.

He must have been smiling at Dean for awhile because green eyes finally looked up at him and raised an eyebrow in question.

"What?"

Sam shook his head and shrugged, but kept smiling. He turned back to his own book.

"Thanks, Dean."

Sam saw his brother shift a bit and he muttered something under his breath like, 'Dunno what you're talking about, weirdo'.

Sam didn't say anything else, but he snickered as he caught the upturn of Dean's mouth out of the corner of his eye a moment later.

His mirth was interrupted with a pillow in the face and an embarrassed, cursing Dean, but that warm feeling that made everything worth it remained.