Disclaimer: Though I have grown deeply attached to these characters, they do not belong to me.
Sam is watching Dean, and Dean is watching himself in the bathroom mirror.
Dean runs a calloused hand over his face and sighs. He hasn't shaven in days - has no time to shave in between ganking monsters and following his father's trail - and the dark circles underneath his eyes are even more prominent in this light. He wonders when he got to be so...old.
He almost doesn't see it, but then he turns his head slightly to the left and there it is - the hollow, sunken face of John Winchester staring back at him. He doesn't whether to laugh or cry.
It took him twenty six years, but Dean has finally become his father.
"You look so much more like Dad than I do," Sam says from his spot in the doorway, and Dean silently thanks God that Sammy sees it too and that he's not losing his mind.
God, who is hiding in the somewhere in the creases of reality, takes note of Dean's gratitude. After all, He is always watching.
Dean tears his gaze away from his reflection to face his brother. Their eyes meet, and Dean's frown deepens. Sam smiles, sad and knowing.
Sam is conscious of the figurative barrier between them, and he appreciates its service. Over the years, he and his brother have developed a systematic means building it up and breaking it down again. It keeps them from losing their minds, and so it keeps them together. And that's really what matters, right?
For a moment, the bonds of their brotherhood flare so intensely that God senses it pulsing deep in his core.
And He too smiles, sad and knowing.