A/N: Just a short one shot. I've been spending a lot of time writing from Sam's POV (See Letters to Hell) and wanted to touch base with Dean so here you go. I'd tell you to enjoy but that seems somehow wrong given the content. If you like the story please take a moment to review, I live for feedback! :P
Disclaimer: I got an envelope in the mail today from the CW. I was thrilled! I thought the transfer of ownership I'd requested from Kripke had finally come through… turns out it was a restraining order. Ah well…
Warnings: None. No pairings. No Slash. No Wincest (although I suppose you could read some in if you squint hard enough).
He woke with a start. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He tried very hard not to sleep…at least not around his brother. His hands were gripping the sheets and he could feel a scream threatening to tear from his throat. He could only hope that he had woken up before any others had escaped. He closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate on his breathing but quickly realized what a mistake that was. He didn't need to close his eyes and see the images that were hiding there.
He consciously forced his hands to relax their grip on the sheets. Trying hard to block out the memory of the nightmare, he focused on taking one deep breath at a time. He desperately worked to hold back the panic. Everything was fine. He was not back there; there was no one here who would hurt him… no one for him to hurt. It was just him and Sam. He was home… to him home had always been wherever his brother was so, yeah… he was home… even if home tonight was some ridiculously decorated motel in Nowheresville, North Dakota.
He remembered the relaxation exercises Sam had tried to teach him years ago. At the time he thought they were useless, after all, if he wanted to relax that's what God made Jack Daniels for. But tonight, tonight he was willing to try anything to curb the panic. He started the process of tensing and relaxing each muscle in his body. From his toes to the balls of his feet… next up the muscles of his legs…first tighten then relax. The process occupied his thoughts for the time being but didn't stop the uncontrollable shaking that wracked his body.
He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard his brother roll over on the bed next to his.
"Dean...you alright?" His voice was muffled from sleep but the worry he felt still came through loud and clear.
It took him a moment to be sure he had enough control over his own voice to answer.
"Yeah Sam. I'm fine. Go back to sleep. Just had a cramp in my leg, sorry. Didn't mean to wake you."
"Dean, at what point did you think it was ok to start lying to me?" He could hear his brother sit up, the movement causing the cheap bedsprings to emit a sound that was eerily like that of a knife being drawn across a sharpening stone. He felt a chill race down his back at the memory that the noise elicited.
"Really. I'm good. Please. Just go back to sleep." He suddenly wanted nothing more than to pull the blankets over his head and hide. Hide from the bad things that had hurt him… hide from the bad things he had done… most of all hide from his brother's eyes. He couldn't stand the thought of Sam seeing the shame and self-loathing that he was feeling. If Sam turned on the light now he was afraid he would completely break down.
He'd been back for a little over a week now. Each day he questioned the decision. Each time he saw that look on Sam's face… the one that said how relieved he was to have his big brother back to protect him and guide him… he fought the urge to run. Sam had no idea who he was now. What he had become. Who he had welcomed back into his life.
He knew he couldn't hide it forever. In fact, he was sure Sam was picking up on the little things already. Like how he couldn't stand to be touched… He went out of his way to make sure that didn't happen. He knew after that first welcoming embrace that he didn't deserve to be touched, was terrified that the filth that covered his soul would somehow be transferred to his little brother through that innocent contact.
He cringed when he heard Sam get up. He knew what was coming next. Sam wanted to talk. He always wanted to talk. He wanted to know what had happened, wouldn't believe that Dean didn't remember. Guess he wasn't as great of a liar as everyone always thought. At least, not when it came to his brother.
He understood the need to know. It didn't matter that Dean had made the choice of his own free will, Sam still felt guilty about his time in Hell. He still felt as if it was his fault, and Sam, being who he was, needed to hear every damn detail so he could torture himself as much as his brother had been tortured. Well, he wasn't going to get that information. There was no way he was going to contribute to his brother's masochistic need to suffer for him.
He was brought out of these thoughts by the feeling of his brother sitting down on the edge of his bed. Ok… this wasn't what he had been expecting. No lights… no chatter… no insistent questions about where and what and why… Just his brother shoving him gently over to make room on the bed for his lanky frame.
"Sam…I don't know what you think you're doing but these beds are small enough already. Seriously, dude… go back to bed. It's all good." Please, he thought… please, please, please… go back to bed… He didn't think he could stand it if Sam touched him right now, he might just break into a million pieces.
There were no words from his brother to acknowledge that he had even heard him. Sam just kept nudging him slowly over until he had room to lie on the bed beside him. He was suddenly flooded with memories of all the times he had crawled into his little brother's bed to comfort him… when he was afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone, afraid of the bad things in his dreams. He fought to keep back the sob that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at those memories.
He could feel his brother's shoulder pressed against his back. He knew that he was still shaking. There was no way to hide it now. He tried to move further away from Sam, break the physical contact, put some space between them… protect Sam the only way he could. But his brother was having none of it.
He felt the hand on his shoulder. Felt the gentle touch urging him to roll over, to face his brother in the darkness. Damn it… he could never deny Sam anything. Reluctantly he shifted on the bed. He felt Sam draw him closer, felt his head being guided to lie on his brother's chest. Felt the strong arms that encircled him, protecting him, reassuring him. Heard the strong heartbeat that was the only lifeline he had left.
It was too much. He tried desperately to push away from Sam but his brother was too strong. When had he gotten so damn strong? Sam just pulled him closer. His brother's hands moved over his skin slowly, tenderly, attempting to soothe away the tension and fear. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to crawl inside of his brother's chest and stay there forever, safe and warm. He could hear the sounds, if not the words, that his brother kept whispering to him… sounds of comfort and love.
No, he couldn't do this. He didn't deserve to be loved like this. Sam didn't know the whole story; he would be devastated to know the things his brother had done. Again he fought against the immovable strength in those arms. Again he met with a resistance that he couldn't overcome… that somewhere, deep inside, he didn't want to overcome.
He couldn't fight it any longer. All of his fear, pain, and doubt were in that one word as he gave in to the sob that finally broke free… "Sammy…"
"It's ok Dean. I'm here. I'll always be here. I promise…it will be ok…" His brother's strong hands continued to caress his arms… back… This touch was everything he had longed for while he was there… all he had to keep himself from going completely insane during the worst of it. This touch was his only grip on reality. This wasn't about sex or love or even family… this… this was about acceptance. Acceptance of anything and everything that made him who he was.
He could feel the walls that he had so carefully built up slowly crumbling down. Each caress, each murmured word of understanding punching a new hole in those walls.
"Dean…you don't have to tell me. You never have to tell me but…if you want to…when you need to… I'll be here. It doesn't matter what happened. There is nothing, nothing that you could ever tell me that would make me feel any differently about you. I will never leave you all alone. You are all I have…I love you big brother, always have and always will. No strings… unconditionally. Now sleep. I promise I'll be here to keep the darkness away."
Dean could feel the tears that had finally escaped trailing down his face…landing on his brother's chest. Something in the tone of his brother's voice… something in the words… maybe he could believe it. As he drifted off to the first peaceful night's sleep he had experienced since returning, held in the safety of his brother's arms, he knew… he would tell Sam everything, could tell Sam everything and maybe… just maybe, it would be ok.