Title: After Lucifer
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: Season 11. After the events of "The Devil in the Details", Sam suffers nightmares.
"Sammy, wake up."
Nothing.
"Sam. Wake up."
Still nothing as he was lost in the throes of a Lucifer-induced nightmare. Another one. Dean had worked him out of three others. This one was a challenge.
It was 2AM. One day removed from the cage. And now an unending stream of terrorizing dreams. Despite being safe at home in the bunker, Dean wasn't surprised. Hell, he'd been dealing with his own haunting images every time he closed his eyes. The thought of losing Sam again at the hands of the devil. He could handle his own issues this time around though; he hadn't been the one locked in another cage, face to face with Lucifer.
Face to face with one of the few things that could break his little brother.
There would be no breaking. Not this time. Not again. No, Dean wasn't about to let that happen and stayed steady until Sam snapped from the dream.
The younger Winchester startled awake and immediately his hands pulled at his face, rubbing hard at his eyes, trying to take in his surroundings and remember where he was.
"Here, Sammy." Dean said, sitting on the edge of the bed; easing in with a careful touch to his brother's ,,,arm so that Sam could see it was him. "You're home. Safe."
"Bunker?" Sam slurred out.
"Safe and sound, little brother."
Sam met Dean's eyes and Dean touched his shoulder to cement the feeling of home, watching his brother roll onto his right side, half burying his head in the pillow as he said. "He's…he's in my head…"
"I know."
"Can't make it stop…Dean…"
His head buried deeper into the pillow and Dean saw Sam's breathing change; going from restless to the verge of panic. Dean squeezed a hand to Sam's shoulder; knowing what his brother needed – emotionally – to begin to put Lucifer and the cage behind him.
The boys didn't often give in completely to emotions that would plunge the average person into the pit of insanity; but every so often, the weight they carried was too much. Too much, even for them…even for a Winchester. And with all the hell they'd been through in the last few years, with one world-ending crisis after another…sometimes, during the smallest of moments…even Winchester's could break.
"Sammy. It's okay."
"Dean…"
"No…it's okay."
His little brother didn't cry for long, a few minutes into the pillow, sucking in deep shuddering breaths between sobs, but it was enough to force Dean to take a few deep breaths of his own, looking up, blinking rapidly; his hand never moving from Sam's shoulder.
Once the emotion had lessened, Dean stood. "I'll be back in a sec."
When he returned, bleary eyes followed him across the room to the DVD player, watching as a disc was tossed into the machine and then as Dean settled on the right side of the bed; legs extended out and crossed. A pillow behind his back and the remote in hand. The dim lighting in the room brightened some once the TV flashed on; Sam squinted from his side-lying position on the bed.
"What the hell are you doing?" Sam finally asked, wiping at his cloudy eyes.
Dean looked at the DVD cover box. "Game of Thrones, Season 3, episode 5. That's where we left off, right?"
"Dean…"
"I know, you're not up for it right now, but I need something to do while I'm here. And I'm not leaving, so shut up."
"Don't need a babysitter."
"Yeah well, I'm here and…I'm here."
"Just wanna sleep."
"You sleep, I'll watch."
Watch over Sam. It's what he knew best. It's what he did best. The DVD just gave him an excuse to stay close without wandering into that dreaded mothering territory that neither would ever admit to doing or needing.
"No more bad dreams, 'k Sammy?"
That was Dean, using the same line he'd used on his little brother time and time again when they were kids and nights were haunted. Sam would remember.
"'k, Dean." A simple response, but one Sam had always clung to when his big brother had comforted him those years ago.
As it had in the past, it worked this time as well. Eventually closing his eyes, Sam drifted into sleep. A few silent tears escaped before he rested lightly, but Dean was there. Lucifer had been right, Sam thought. He couldn't ever lose his brother. Not again. As unhealthy at it was; whatever wrath it might unleash on the world…without his brother…no. Just…no.
He felt pressure against his arm at several points during the night. Dean was there
with a slight touch that would keep the Hell-ridden nightmares of Lucifer from descending below the surface. And when Sam woke the next morning and staggered into the kitchen, he found a bowl of dry cereal, milk, and a homemade smoothie – Sam's favorite, the one that Dean like to refer to as the 'Puke Green Cup of Nasty' - waiting for him.
Not a word was said about the previous night. It was done. In the past. They could move on. Sam was confident the dreams would lessen in the next days. Both brothers had learned coping mechanisms to deal with the constant flow of impossible that was always at their doorstep. Much of that coping consisted of shoving things down deep inside and hoping that when the worst surfaced that the situation was as it had been last night; at home and safe…when it was just the two of them to understand without explanation.
Dean let Sam eat before turning his laptop around. "Here. Burlington, Iowa. A case."
"Burlington? That's the middle of nowhere."
"True, but where there are people, there are monsters. Sounds like a Rougarou. You good?"
Sam downed the last of his green smoothie as Dean cringed in disgust. "M'good. Half hour?"
"Meet you in the car." Dean smacked the laptop shut and swallowed another mug of coffee watching Sam leave the kitchen for a shower, noting that his brother seemed no worse for the wear after his night from nightmare hell. A little more tired than normal, but good. In reality, the small breakdown had probably been a positive for them both. Sam was one tough son of a bitch, but he was still vulnerable to the realities of being human. And he was still Dean's little brother. And he'd be okay. Dean would make sure of it.
The End