The drive back to the bunker was uneventful, quiet. Tiredness and things not said hung heavy in the Impala.
Sam felt this constant dull,deep ache all over his body. But, he definitely felt like his body was now back in control and slowly beginning to heal itself. On the other hand though,there was Dean. Who seemed to be doing the opposite of mending up.
It wasn't the concussion or the broken ribs; they both had those more than a few times. Sam had glanced over a few times as they crept closer to home base, seeing Dean teeth chatter as if he were freezing.
As the days wore on and Sam continued to get better, Dean just...didn't. At first Sam was too tired to chalk it up to anything but how exhaustive the last hunt was. Emotionally and physically. But now, with his head clearer, he began to wonder if it was something else. Dean rarely got sick. Which is weird, considering how many cold nights,cuts, sickness and infections they were exposed to.
During a Amara/Casifer grind and his third cup of coffee Sam had it. "Dude, what's going on?" he said with a little more irritation than intended.
Dean slowly raised his glassy eyes from his lap top, brow raising slightly. "Uh...research? End of the world kinda stuff..again. "
Closing his own lap top, Sam sighed, resting his elbows on the table and pursed his lips, causing Dean to roll his eyes and murmur "Oh here we go."
"I mean, what's up with you,man? You got the chills, you barely eat anything. Are you sick or what?" Sam gave his brother an out. It was unintentional. Dean wasn't telling him something and he just gave him an excuse not to.
Sam watched as Dean's gears turned, as default excuses began compiling. The longer Dean stalled the more irritated Sam got. Whatever his older brother was not saying was big. Big enough for Dean to stall for nearly two minutes.
Sighing, Dean leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "It's just. Everything feels like.. too much." his vague-ish admission caught Sam off guard.
"Too much of what?" and even as he spoke those dumbass words Sam saw his brother shut up again, walls back up. Dean waved his hand and moves to stand, "Forget it. I need to get out a bit. Need anything?"
Sam felt overwhelmed so he just shook his head and watched Dean head up the stairs and out of the bunker.
Sitting back in his chair, Sam went back and fourth about whether or not to go into Dean's room and see if there were any clues to his odd behavior.
Getting up gingerly,Sam moved toward Dean's room as quickly as he could not knowing when Dean would be back.
Nothing seemed weird. Not more than the usual anyway. Bed was made, a few empty beer bottles littered the floor. Pictures all in the same places. Laptop near the bed.
Shaking his head, Sam backed out of his brothers room and headed back to the main livingroom/library and made it there in time to hear the bunker door shut and footsteps on the stairs.
"Hey. That was quick."
"Yeah.." Dean's voice was quiet, tired. On edge. Enough to make Sam wander closer toward him inspite of tiredness and pain in his side.
He barely made it to the steps as Dean seemed to have missed the last 4, and they both painfully thumped against the wall. Hissing in pain, Sam tried to move up and away as best of possible.
"You good S'm?" Dean managed out as he leaned awkwardly against the steps. Nodding, Sam looked at him. Whatever pain Sam was in was not non-existant. "Dean? Hey hey..hey, what's going on?"
Dean's eyes were half lidded, face pale ,skin cool and clammy. "M'not doin' so good S'mmy."
Sam resisted a sarcastic reply and said nothing, but decide to haul his heavy brother to the nearest chair. Admitting something was wrong, twice in one day? What the hell was going on.
Immediately looking for any wounds and coming up empty, Sam looked at his brother,bilwildered.
"I wanted to make a deal with Billie." Dean croaked out,licking his lips. Sam's brows cinched together in question. Dean followed up, "The reaper."
Swallowing, Sam grabbed a chair and pulled it beside his brother, a cold dread spreading over his body. "Why did you want to do that Dean?" careful to keep anger out of his tone.
Dean didn't make eye contact, he was embarassed. "You were dead. Or thought you were. "
Sam felt like throwing up," Dean..did you...?" Bile and anger was rising real quickly. Dean looked up at him, eyes glassy and blood shot. But what threw Sam over the edge was the desperation for understanding.
"Did I swallow a bottle of who knows what and chase it with some codeine? " Dean smiled weakly, "she let slip that you were still good, I didn't go with her though."
Sam stared at Dean a minute, taking a few calming breaths before speaking. "So,this is just left over crap from that..?"
They were doing better than they have in years at being brothers again and Sam was not going to shove Dean away.
Dean shrugged,still looking pale and green. Uncomfortable. After several minutes of silence, Sam digested what Dean said and made up his mind. "I've got you,Dean. We're gonna get through this."
Sam knew he caught on his meaning. They were going to figure out how to get Cas back, they were going to figure out how to defeat the Darkness. They were going to do what they did best.
Dean looked like he wanted to give one of those default remarks about how big of a softy Sam is but, "Thank you." came out instead.
Shaken, but certain. Certain that they would be prepared for whatever came next. They would be ready.