A CERTAIN KIND OF SADNESS
Sam is shocked and not to say the least relieved when they drive up and there is Cas. Beside him Dean is vibrating with excitement and doubt...god Sam hates the fact he's so jaded. No good thing goes unpaid for. But is he thankful...Sam had never been at such a loss as how to help his older brother. And he doubts Dean had ever been in such a conundrum as well.
His brother had been losing grip of their life purpose, of the meaning of their cause. He had been so tired, so stretched thin between all their problems and then Cas...Sam knows everything will be alright when Dean had addressed them as Team Free Will once again. He talks and smiles the whole way to Dodge filling Sam up with a sense of peace he hasn't had in a long time.
That night as he lays down in the bed beside Dean's and his brother's snores saw through the silence he is content, quieted and stilled. The both of them sleep the best they have since it all went down. Of course it doesn't last but you know, the little stuff counts.
Of course none of the goodness lasts but still it had been amazing while it did. Of course even Dean had known it wouldn't last. It was terrible to know this, but the knowledge that eventually good things came to an end only made Dean and Sam enjoy it more while they had it. It mixes a certain kind of sadness into their joy, a sort of melancholy, a bittersweetness.
A solemn seriousness to their happiness and contentedness; it taught them to give thanks for every single little thing.
When Dean suggests that all three of them head back to bunker while he, himself finishes up the hunt Sam knows exactly what it is. The happy state of their 'family' was already crumbling around them. Not even one day all together and it's all falling apart. Dean sends them home in hopes to control the crack, to stop the momentary happiness from crumbling out from underneath them.
Jack sits silent and shutting in on himself. Sam knows it's over. Dean's words to Jack warm him inside, finishes healing any damage to their relationship that and been done over the last few weeks. Sam can see that they hit Jack right to the core too, but they just serve to convince him more to leave. He will not hurt them; not the only three people he has.
Sam can understand that, but he knows from experience walking away never solves anything. Dean groans and rises, helps Cas up, asks Sam, 'you good?' with a look, a single connecting of their gazes.
"I'm going to go look for him." Cas says at once, Sam can feel Dean roll his eyes.
"Cas he could literally be anywhere, we'll get Jody to put him on the wire and we'll watch for him here..."
"Dean." Cas says, face set, voice saying he's decided already, "I promised I would protect him, I gave my word...I'm going."
Dean sighs and reaches for his jacket, "Fine, I'll come with then."
Cas waylays him with hand on his arm, "Frankly Dean, you need a shower."
Dean makes a face like he's ready to kill something, "He's right Dean," Sam adds, and Dean sighs at that tone, both Sam and Cas had made up their minds. "When was the last time you ate something? You need to recuperate, I'll call Jody and watch the security cameras in town and back where," he pauses and can't decide the best way to word this, "Back where he was born."
"It's alright sam," Cas says already heading to the stairs up to the door, "I've died many times, true it never gets easy but I'm used to it."
"Don't get too used to it." Dean grumbles, and Cas sends him an understanding smile. "I'll call if I find something."
"Sounds good buddy," Dean says, "Be careful."
Sam waves and Cas disappears with a slam of the door. The younger Winchester pulls out his phone and dials Jody, Dean grabs his laptop and sets it up in the table. He looks up when Sam's hand lands on his arm.
"Shower, I'm not kidding." He says, with an arched brow and wrinkled nose.
Dean gives him a sour look and stalks off.
His brother appears again about thirty minutes later, barefoot in worn jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt, a towel around his neck, wet hair spiky and sticking everywhere. He's yawning as he comes, setting a cup of coffee in front of Sam, another one in hand for himself. He plops down in a chair with a sigh, props his feet up in another and pulls his computer onto his lap. Quick typing and then a vacant stare fixed on the screen while slurping coffee lets Sam know he's watching live feed from security cameras.
Dean shifts in his chair, and hisses a breath in through his teeth, holding his arm so as to protect his side from more jostling.
"You good?" Sam asks, blowing on his own cup, enjoying the warmth filling his nostrils and hitting his tired face.
"Yeah, I'm alright, just crawling through ghoul tunnels is hella harder then it was at twenty."
Sam chuckles, "Yeah I hear ya. So I guess we won't be heading back to Dodge anytime soon."
Dean sends him a glare, "You're such a nerd I don't know why cowboys and Indians doesn't appeal to you; it's history."
Sam snorts, "Not the way you enjoy it."
Dean rolls his eyes and sighs, cutting the playful argument off there, he's too tired and bit too on the uncomfortable side of sore to get into it deep with Sam who would win, of course, but only because it was about history.
"You think he'll come back?" Sam asks, looking into the blackness of his coffee cup.
"Hmm." Is all the elder Winchester grunts. Dean doesn't know if Sam's talking about Jack or Cas but either way he doesn't know, god he wishes he did. He hates having his family chopped up and out of his control. And whether Dean wanted to admit it or not he and Sam had taken Jack under their wing and he had become a part of their strange, dysfunctional family.
Dean sighs heavily looking around, before sending Sam a tired smile, "It was nice while it lasted though wasn't it?"
Sam laughs softly, sighing himself and rubs at his eyebrows like he's wont to do if a headache is coming on. "Yes it was, time to get back to the real world, I guess."
Dean snorts, "One day, guess that was the all the universe could spare."
"Needs us to get back to making chaos..." Sam agrees.
Dean laughs and nods and they share a happy smile over the steaming cups of their coffee before both turning back to their laptops and work. They've laughed it off and are content with the little taste of happiness they'd been given. No where near to normal but for them still; it had been happiness.
So there's a certain kind of sadness that laces the silence that sits comfortably between them as they work. Bittersweet, melancholy...but for them even though they're alone, they're here alone together; the sweetness far outweighs the bitterness.
...the end
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