More than just brotherly concern

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me, see CW and Mr Kripke for real talent and ownership.

Summary: Sam tries to pick up the pieces after he has retrieved Dean from the djinn's lair. This is a Wincest story set after What is and What Should Never Be.

Spoilers: Follows events in 'What is and What should never be'.

Sam watched his brother sleeping restlessly again, wondering what was going through his mind as he slept. He hadn't been the same since the djinn had caught him. He was quiet and withdrawn like he'd been in the weeks after Dad died and he didn't seem to want the closeness, the relationship that they had grown accustomed to over the last almost year and a half. Dean was distant, closed off; it was all Sam could do to convince Dean to let him dress his injuries, and sharing a bed was becoming a joke. Once Sam climbed in, Dean would move so close to the opposite edge that he was barely able to stay balanced and if Sam so much as touched him, he would get up and go to the bathroom or sit in the chair flicking aimlessly through web pages on the laptop pretending to research.

The blood loss accounted, in Sam's mind anyway, for some of what he could see. Dean was pale, tired and listless. Sam resented the fact that they could not afford a trip to the hospital in so many ways and that he was left hoping Dean's body could recover from the maltreatment alone. Sam hated that his brother was a wanted man and that it was that which kept him from seeking proper treatment and so Sam was left to pray that Dean's willpower supported by his own first aid skills would be enough. In the meantime, Dean lacked energy and seemed inclined to just sit or sleep in their motel room, not wanting to go out, not wanting to face the world. Gone was his usual vitality and bounce, but his sleep was disturbed, his dreams clearly tormenting him still, but as ever Dean was reluctant to talk about his thoughts.

He had admitted the djinn had given him a world in which Mom had lived, Sam had kept Jess and although Dad had been dead, it was from natural causes and he'd never needed to hunt… and Dean had been a disappointment to his family. Sam knew that that was too significant to Dean's withdrawal now, even more than the fact that he had dreamt Jess was still alive. Sam also knew that in the life, the actual real life they'd truly had, he had one thing to be grateful for above all others – Dean. Dean had been his blessing in disguise, his guardian angel, brother, parent, protector, advisor, shoulder to cry on and motivator when times were bad. He'd been more than that too, something only the two of them would ever understand. Sam had acknowledged a long time ago now that he had loved Jess, but that he loved Dean more, he'd wanted her and normal, but that what he had now with Dean somehow was more important and more real. At some point his relationship with Jess would have run its course, ended, probably badly and bitterly, but that if he had his way that wouldn't happen with Dean. Right now though, Dean wasn't going to let him have his way. Sam had given it some thought and figured it made sense for Dean to have resurrected Jess in his dream and given himself a girlfriend as well, because with Mom alive what the two of them had now would never have been a possibility. He wondered whether Dean had got lost somewhere between the two worlds, unable to make sense of it, unable to go back or forward, or whether it was seeing Mom that had reminded him that in the eyes of the world this was wrong. Well as far as Sam was concerned the world didn't count and rightly or wrongly Mom hadn't been there for them and so what they had was each other and he didn't want to lose that and he was pretty certain that Dean didn't really, at least not in his heart. In fact, Sam knew him well enough to know that screwed up somewhere inside Dean's mind, right now he probably thought he was doing the right thing for Sam.

Dean had confessed that everyone kept assuming he had been drinking; trying to make out it was a joke that he found funny, but it was clearly something that had upset him. Sam knew Dean liked a drink to relax, he was sociable, but he rarely drank to the point of being drunk, they rarely had the money for him to do that and Sam couldn't say that even when they did have the money it was something that Dean seemed to want to do more often. Why he wondered had Dean made himself into someone people would think was a drunk.

Dean had described how Sam in the dream world had said they weren't close and that Sam didn't want to be, how he hadn't been surprised to find Dean stealing from their Mom and how he'd described when Dean had stolen his ATM card and prom date. Sam still found it difficult to imagine a world in which they weren't close. They'd been close right up until he left for Stanford and again since he'd rejoined his brother, he had always relied on Dean in so many ways, and he couldn't imagine that being taken away from him. What hurt Sam most when he listened to Dean describe it was not just that he himself had been so hard on Dean, but that Dean seemed to believe that he would have been that type of person and that he would have deserved that treatment. Sam had always been perfectly well aware that Dean had defrauded any number of credit card companies but much as he hated the need for it, he never saw it in the same way as if Dean had been stealing from real people. He'd also always assumed that Dean's brash swagger and blasé attitude to the scams meant Dean didn't have a problem conscience about it, but Sam was now beginning to wonder if Dean actually did see it as stealing, assumed that it meant he was the thief he'd dreamt himself to be. This wasn't the first time that Sam had worried about Dean's self-image, his sense of self-worth, but this time he wasn't sure that he could get through the damage done to convince Dean of anything. Why was it that Dean had always believed so little in himself? No matter how much Sam tried to tell him otherwise, Dean still reverted back to this state when things went wrong, when Sam wasn't there at his side to tell him otherwise so he would crumble and trying to get it through to him afterwards just got harder and harder as he seemed to withdraw further and further away.

Dean was mumbling in his sleep again as Sam stepped closer. He knelt beside the bed to listen, see if he could make out the actual words. "Mom…" the rest of the words were lost in the pillow as Dean shifted again and seemed to shiver. Sam lifted his hand to run his fingers through Dean's hair to soothe him. His fingers coasted gently down Dean's arm and felt the chill on his skin. Sam carefully eased the blanket up to cover Dean, watched as he settled again as the blanket seemed to reassure him in his sleep, as the mumbling ceased and Dean's breathing evened out again. Sam wants nothing more than to lie alongside his brother, draw him into his arms and keep out the dreams that torment his brother's sleep.

He had wondered what Dean's girlfriend had been like, wondered whether she'd been some trashy bimbo with huge breasts, not really deserving of his brother. Dean had said very little on the subject, merely saying she was something special and he wasn't sure why she'd stuck with him. Sam could see a hundred reasons why someone would stick with his brother, and the fact that he knew most women and a hell of a lot of men (himself included) found him physically attractive was the least of them. Sam knew what was in Dean's heart and that was more beautiful than his face or body.

Knowing Dean had settled again, he stood up and moved over to the chair, wondering how long before Dean would wake again. He hated seeing Dean so pale, reminding him of the time when Dean barely clung to life in hospital after the crash with the semi. It made him think of how his father had carried fake insurance, it was something he could do. Stirring himself to action, he retrieved the laptop and began a hunt for insurance deals, because it might be too late for now but he sure as hell wasn't going to sit and watch Dean go through something like this again, when a trip to the hospital would put him out of danger quicker, even if there was still a recovery time. Right now, Sam had no way of knowing how much blood Dean had actually lost to know how much danger he was in, let alone what horrendous disease he might have contracted in the filth and squalor of the abandoned warehouse or from the djinn's disgusting equipment. He sent up a silent prayer as his brain was flooded with images of Dean sick and getting sicker rather than recovering in the coming days and weeks. He slammed the laptop lid closed and pushed back from the table to pace the room, hands to his face.

He was distracted from his pacing by a noise from Dean. He headed back to his brother's side to see tears glistening on Dean's eyelashes, distress on his features. "They're dying, Dad, all of them… Why us? Why me?" Sam had heard these words from Dean before, he couldn't fathom why Dean thought he was talking to Dad, was he dreaming about something from even earlier, from before the djinn. He couldn't sit back and watch Dean's distress any longer so he lay down alongside his brother, gently drawing him in closer to him, then began to say his name softly, stroking his hair to wake him. As he woke, Dean's face scrunched uncomfortably before focusing on Sam. "Wha's up?"

"You were having a nightmare."

"Sorry." By that time, Dean had woken enough to take in his position in Sam's arms and he turned to make an attempt to get up.

Sam drew him in closer. "Ssh just relax, I'm just going to hold you, nothing else," he soothed, still running fingers through Dean's gel-free hair, so much softer than usual. "You don't need to be sorry. You thought you were with Dad, you were talking to him." Sam positioned himself so he could watch Dean's expression. "It sounded… difficult…" Sam figured that was better than pointing out it had actually sounded like Dean was crying. "Can you tell me about it? It might make it easier for you to rest properly. I thought you said Dad had died so maybe it goes back further…"

Dean brought his hand up to rub across his face, felt the damp tear streaks and realised he must have cried in his sleep. He made another attempt to pull away as he said "Shit!" quietly, but Sam remained firm instead moving one hand to gently wipe away the remains of the tears, as if to signal that he'd known they were there and that it made no difference to how much he cared.

"Hey," Sam's voice soothed, but couldn't take away the embarrassment. "Dean, talk to me, let me listen, it might make it easier. Where were you and Dad?"

"It wasn't…" Dean stopped, seemed to take stock of what he was saying. Sam could see the exhaustion and defeat in Dean's eyes and face and knew that it was time. His brother's eyes settled on Sam and he tried again, "Dad was dead. I went to his grave… there was no one who would understand… no one understands…"

As he shrugged and made to turn away, Sam had noticed the change from past to present in Dean's words. "I can try…" He wanted to kiss away Dean's fears, show him how much he meant, how much Sam wanted to understand his pain, ease his pain, share his pain.

"Sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Dean, tell me." Sam was calm and quiet, as he attempted to coax his brother to talk.

"You weren't you, there was no fire, no one else knew… only me… only I knew that there were… things… evil things… people were dead, people we saved, Dad saved… the plane, it crashed, all those people were dead… God I hated that job… but when we didn't do it, they all died…do you know how many people that meant… just on that one job, because we didn't… and there were others…"

Sam stilled the movement of his hands, one in Dean's hair, the other on Dean's back, grounding him, reassuring him. He wanted to prove to Dean that he was there with him the whole way. "It wasn't real, Dean. You saved them, we've saved them."

"But I wanted it to be real, I wanted to stay. Even though I knew, I wanted to stay."

"But you didn't. You came back; you fought your way back. You told me…"

"I wanted her alive; I wanted you to be happy… I got that… I had everything I wanted Sam, can you imagine…?"

Sam wondered how many people's desires would be so unselfish. From what he could see Dean's life there, while better than what they'd got now, still wasn't easy, still wasn't what a person with such a good heart deserved – he'd dreamt of other people getting what they'd want, what they'd deserve. Sam needed Dean to know that maybe happy wasn't the right word, but he wouldn't trade their relationship for anything or anyone. Dean was everything.

Sam was embarrassed to think how much of a prick he'd been in Dean's imagined life, how he'd looked down on Dean, wondered how close they'd been to that even in this life when Dean came to Stanford, how it was only a sudden glimpse of how much it had taken for Dean to ask for help that had had him agreeing to help for a weekend and how that weekend had been enough for him to know that he wasn't going to risk losing touch with his brother again, even though at that time he'd had no intention of staying with Dean. It had always been a fine line they walked… until they crossed it and now, Sam isn't about to let Dean try and cross back. "I know it's hard, Dean, but I'm glad you came back."

"I knew it wasn't real. I knew you were on your own here, that you didn't have Jess or Mom or Dad."

"You came back for me?" Dean's hands shifted in the space between their chests, wrapping round each other, fidgeting anxiously. "Dean, is that why you came back?"

"It wasn't real, I knew that… I wanted it to be real. I wanted you to have that, Sam."

"I'm sorry Dean."

"I'm tired." He shifted himself back down and rolled to face away from Sam. Sam covered him over again, but waited behind him without saying anything. Dean spoke quietly, "I'm okay, Sam."

"No, you're not, but you will be. I need you to know that I'm glad you came back, but also that if we could have had that life you'd deserve more than you dreamt for you and I'm sorry you don't get to have it." Sam sat up and removed his jeans, shoes and sweater before drawing the covers over himself and drawing Dean back into his arms and curling round him.

He could feel the tension radiating from Dean's body, muscles and bones, almost vibrating with distress, yet Dean's voice was quiet and calm as he said, "Mom would have loved Jess."

"Yeah, I know she would and so would you. You know something else though, Mom would be so proud of you. Now get some sleep, then hopefully when you wake, you'll feel better. I'm just going to stay here until you're asleep." Dean's eyes closed and Sam listened to his breathing deepen and even out without moving, relieved to have got passed at least one of his own barriers. He waited until finally the even breathing was not just Dean trying to pretend to be asleep, felt as his brother relaxed before allowing himself to get truly comfortable and relax his grip on his brother enough to keep him safe and protected but not pressurised.

He lay for awhile, watching his brother sleep and thinking. In the coming days, he was going to have to make sure that he could anticipate not only Dean's physical needs for recovery but his emotional ones as well. Dean needed to understand that he deserved more than he currently believed.

Reviews gratefully received (I haven't pinched this, I also wrote the other one which is non-Wincest)