When they were young, Sam had been chubby. Not super chubby, but cute little kid chubby. Always hungry, always clamoring for sweets, or whatever he could get inside of his mouth. From the age of 10 until he left for college, Sam was always hungry, always wanting something to eat. Sometimes Dean looked at Sam now and realized that the reason he had been so hungry was because his body was busy making him get the size of a small redwood tree.
Sometimes, when Dean looked at Sam, he thought that perhaps he shouldn't have indulged him when he was young, maybe if Sam hadn't had two helpings of every meal they ever had, he would be a little shorter than he was. It was sort of strange having your baby brother be so much taller than you. Hell, it really sort of sucked that at 6'1 he was the shortest man in the family. Sometimes, for Dean, it solidified that he was the most insignificant of the bunch, sometimes it just reminded him of why they never heard him or saw what they did to him when they fought.
Now, though, Sam was back with him. It felt good to have his brother back at his side, even if it was at the price of losing their father. The only part about the whole thing was that he still felt semi responsible for Jessica's death, if he hadn't been selfish for just that one single moment, then Jessica would have been protected by Sam, and she would still be alive and Sam would still be happy. Dean's happiness didn't matter nearly as much as his brother's or his father's for that matter. He didn't know who had explained that little fact of his life to him or when he had realized it, it just seemed to be common knowledge.
"Dean. You eat much more of that crap and you are gonna weigh a ton." Sam said as he exited the bathroom.
"You used to like these kinds of sandwiches."
"That was before I knew what they did to your insides. You need to eat something healthier. And you shouldn't eat so much. It's kinda disgusting."
Dean crinkled his eyebrows and looked down at his sandwich. All of his life he had given Sam his food, given him as much as he wanted so he would never have to go without. There had been days, weeks, where he would only eat an apple a day, tell himself that the saying went "an apple a day keeps the doctor away" and ignoring the grumbling of his stomach. But he made sure Sam got the two hamburgers and two French fries and the pop, and the dessert if he wanted. Made sure that Sam never went without anything. He did his best.
Dean shrugged. "I'm hungry."
Sam huffed a laugh. Sat down in front of his brother and opened his salad. "You have tape worm or something?"
"What? No I don't have worms." Dean said disgustedly.
"You eat like a horse."
"I'm a growing boy Sammy."
"No you aren't. You are just gonna get fat. You never used to eat like this."
"I've always eaten like this college boy. I guess you just forgot all of the important stuff so your brain could have room to put all of that lawyer stuff inside."
"No. You didn't. The most common phrase growing up was "I ate" or "I'm not hungry". Now all you do is eat. It's a little embarrassing." Sam said as he stuffed salad in his mouth."
Dean licked his lips and put the burger down on the table. "Yeah. You're right. Sorry." He said and got up. "I'm gonna go run."
"Dean. Come on. I didn't mean…"
"No. It's fine. I'm gonna go clear my head. You can have my burger if you want it. I know you haven't been eating a lot lately. You need to eat." Dean took off his over shirt, threw it on the bed, took the motel key, and shut the door behind him.
Sam sat back in his chair confused. That last comment rang in his head, it felt familiar, worn, like a page in a book that he had read a thousand times. Why? When had Dean said something like that before?
Realization hit him like a truck. He remembered.
"Dean, I'm hungry."
"Sammy, you had a burger, fries, and a milkshake. How can you possibly be hungry?"
"I don't know I just am."
Dean looked at him and then down at his own plate for a second and then wiped his mouth. "Eat mine Sammy." Dean pushed the plate in front of him.
"But this is yours."
"I'm not hungry. I ate a big lunch."
"You sure?"
"Of course Sammy. Eat it. I need to go to the bathroom." And Dean left, allowed Sam to eat his burger, and his fries, and finish off his milkshake without a care in the world.
Sam thought back to that time, thought about how frequently his brother ate, how little he actually did, and he though back to how skinny Dean had been. He wore layers upon layers when they were young, pretty much how he did now, but then, then he had done it so he wouldn't look so thin, now he did it for warmth.
"He starved so I could be full." He said and looked at his brother's half eaten sandwich and felt sick. Dean was finally old enough to be able to get his own means to support himself, to be able to feed himself, he was finally eating all of those meals he had missed growing up, missed because Sam had been hungry. Sam closed his eyes and sighed. "If he's hungry, he should be able to eat." Sam said and stood, grabbed the keys to the car and left.
Dean returned later, and found Sam gone, salad still there, and his food was left exactly where he left it. He looked around like a child who would be caught, and started eating his burger, eating it as fast as he could, so he wouldn't be caught, or taken away from him. Finished, he hurried into the bathroom to take a shower.
When Sam came back he set the sack on the table, noticed Dean had finished his supper, and he heard the water running. He sat back down and began to pick at his wilted soggy salad until Dean came out, clean and in a tee shirt and sweat pants.
"What's this?" he asked when he sat down.
"It's some snacks for you to eat while you are watching tv."
Dean looked into the bag and found all of his favorite candies, and jerky, and his favorite kind of beer. "But…"
Sam cut him off. "Never again tell me you aren't hungry." And that was all he said.