AN: Oooh,my first Supernatural fic - I'm nervous!
This is set after 'Hunted' but before 'Playthings' and there are minor spoilers for 'Faith' in this chapter.
Erm, what else is worth mentioning? NOT Wincest. Rating may go up later.
Warnings: Minor Dean-whumping
"Not so special now eh, Sammy-boy?"
Sam Winchester rolled his eyes as his older brother clapped him on the shoulder. Dean had been repeating the same sentiment over and over for the past half an hour or so now and Sam was getting, to put it bluntly, pissed.
"Okay, Dean." He snapped, shrugging off the older Winchester's hand. "I get it, ok? But this isn't something to be gloating about." Sam trailed off as his burst of anger dissipated. "You shouldn't be a psychic." He continued thoughtfully. "It doesn't fit the pattern…"
"Screw the pattern!" Was Dean's automatic defensive response and Sam sighed, trying to keep his anger in check. He knew Dean had to be feeling pretty confused right now and it was only just under an hour ago since they'd defeated that Wendigo meaning that they were both still high off the trail end of an adrenaline rush. But still, Dean's immature attitude wasn't helping Sam figure this out one bit.
"Dammit, Dean, this isn't a game!" So much for keeping his anger in check, Sam thought as he yelled at his brother. "As usual, you're missing the bigger picture, this-"
"Oh no, I can see the bigger picture, Sam." Dean's cold, emotionless tone was a sharp contrast to Sam's frustrated shouting. "You're jealous."
The words were barely even out of Dean's mouth before Sam was yelling "What?!"
"Yeah…" Dean replied, still calm but this time with a hint of confidence (or was it arrogance?) too, "You ain't 'Special Sammy' any more, are you?" He mocked, adding air quotes as he spoke his recently created moniker. Sam wanted to protest that he'd never been called that but he held his tongue, curious to see where his brother had got this screwed up notion that he was jealous from.
"Not to mention…death visions?" Dean sneered in contempt and Sam scowled angrily before gasping as the hotel ash tray levitated off the table and floated towards him, eventually hovering in front of his face before plummeting to the ground and smashing loudly getting Sam's adrenaline flowing all over again.
"This is telekinesis, dude!" Dean exclaimed, viewing his handiwork with a look of pride even as Sam yelled over the top of his boasting.
"Dammit, Dean, cut it out!"
The younger Winchester closed his eyes trying to will his heart to stop hammering and to get his breathing under control. When he re-opened them he was shocked, not to mention relieved, to see, not a look of scorn on his older brother's face, but one of worry instead.
"Are you ok?" Dean swallowed past a lump in his throat before he spoke. His voice was tentative and a little shaky; the look in his little brother's eyes scared him. It wasn't a look of anger or rage like you might expect but something that Dean found so much worse – fear. His baby brother was scared of him.
"What the Hell am I doing?" The older Winchester thought to himself. The look in Sam's eyes was one Dean himself had shown many times during his childhood and it was a look he'd always tried to make sure Sam never had to experience. Now he himself was causing it and that realisation made him feel sick.
"I-I'm sorry, man…" He mumbled, bending down to sweep the shards of glass from the carpet, worried by Sam's lack of reply. "I didn't mean to-"
"Hey…" Dean jumped at the feel of a hand on his own, looking up from the floor to see Sam crouched beside him. "It's alright." The younger man said gently, placing his hands over Dean's in an unspoken acceptation of his apology. "I wasn't exactly calm when I found out about my ability either." He laughed before smirking and cuffing Dean playfully on the back of the head,
"...Jerk."
Dean didn't think he'd ever been more relieved to hear the childish insult in his life and he grinned happily as he shot back, in true Winchester tradition;
"Bitch."
And, as far as Dean Winchester was concerned, that meant everything was well between him and his brother. He was therefore surprised, when he stood up, to see Sam looking at him with a shocked, panicked expression.
"Wh-what?" He asked confusedly, laughing somewhat nervously at his brother's horrified expression, "What were you expecting me to say?"
"Dean…you-you're bleeding…" Sam finally stammered out and Dean frowned, checking himself for injuries, he was pretty sure that Wendigo hadn't managed to scratch him anywhere and, even if it had, he was sure he would have noticed by that time.
It was only when a splash of crimson landed on his shirt he realised what Sam was talking about and he was surprised and worried to find his nose trickling blood. He choked a little as he tipped his head back and copper tasting blood ran down his throat but what really concerned him was that his brother was leaving him. Sam wasn't just walking away he was jogging, Dean was sure he would have been sprinting if there had been space in the cramped room, and that worried Dean more than any nosebleed ever could.
When Sam returned from the motel bathroom he had rushed to, he found Dean stood with his head tipped back, pinching his nose. Sam knew from experience that Dean had had nosebleeds more than a few times in his life, though they were usually caused by said nose being broken, and the older Winchester was more than familiar with the routine to treat them.
"Here." He said, handing Dean the damp washcloth that he had retrieved from the bathroom. He was alarmed, as Dean took the washcloth from him, too see the amount of blood on his brother's hands and he felt helpless as Dean replied, still squeezing his nose;
"'Danks'"
Realistically, Sam knew Dean's nosebleed couldn't have lasted more than five minutes or so but it had felt an awfully long time as he had stood watching the blood trickled from between Dean's fingers and the motel washcloth had turned from off-white to pink as it absorbed the flow of blood. He'd been with Dean through far more serious injuries of course - those minutes spent holding Dean's unconscious body in that damp, dark cellar, listening to Dean's thready, erratic pulse whilst waiting for the ambulance had been far, far worse. Still, he hated to see his brother suffering and he was relieved when the bleeding finally slowed, then stopped and Dean sat down on the edge of the bed looking pale, but otherwise well.
"What's up, Sammy? You look like I just lost a limb or something." Dean joked as Sam sat down beside him.
"You aren't worried?" Sam asked, sounding both worried and confused and Dean frowned.
"Worried? Sam, it's just a nosebleed." He tried to soothe his younger brother. "People get them all the time, don't be paranoid."
"But…it arrived straight after you used your abilities; don't you think that's a little bit strange?" Sam questioned, "What if…what if this power is too much for you?"
"Dammit Sam, I'm fine." Dean replied and Sam was worried he was going to start with his 'Jealous Sammy' theory again. "You don't see me pitching a fit every time you get a-a…vision-migraine do you?"
"Yea, right…I'm sorry." Sam replied flatly, inwardly laughing at Dean's makeshift terminology, and he saw Dean staring at him suspiciously.
"What are you planning?" The elder Winchester asked cautiously and Sam tried to shrug the comment off,
"Now who's being paranoid?"
"You never just back down in an argument." Dean observed, "You're plotting something."
"Plotting?" Sam shook his head wearily, "You sound like you're in a cheesy movie."
"You're too baby-faced to be a movie villain, Sammy." Dean smirked as he lay down on the bed. Sam noted he still looked pale and he was both worried and relieved that Dean seemed to have forgotten his train of thought.
"What's that supposed to mean?" The younger Winchester asked with mock-annoyance and Dean shrugged as he drew the covers over himself.
"You can't be a cheesy baddy, you don't have a beard."
"What?!" Sam laughed out loud at Dean's sleepy reply as he himself moved to his own bed.
"All the best villains have a beard, or a moustache at least." Dean 'explained' and Sam closed his eyes briefly as an unpleasant thought flashed through his mind,
"Or yellow eyes."
And, as he turned to look at his half-asleep brother, he wondered if perhaps he wasn't the only Winchester the yellow eyed Demon had 'big plans' for.
AN: So I hope that wasn't too bad, I'm new to writing Supernatural and I haven't watched the eps in a while (roll on season 3!) but I hope Sam and Dean weren't too OOC. The Wendigo has nothing to do with the episode 'Wendigo' I just couldn't think of another monster (sorry :( ).
Erm, if anyone is actually bothered about reading more I apologise if updates are slow but I'm working two jobs and preparing for university so time is scarce. Thanks for reading!