A/N. This is a songfic based on the song 'The Cowboy in Me' by Tim McGraw. It's basically an exploration of Dean's attitude, especially after coming back from hell. I haven't used all the song. It's not a Wincest fic, unless you really, really, really want to see it that way.

I don't know why I act the way I do,
Like I aint got a single thing to lose.

"Stop it." Sam glared at Dean, his despair was getting harder to hide by the minute. "I don't care what you say, we're talking about this."

"There's nothing to talk about, Sam. I shot, I missed, end of story."

"You shouldn't have been there in the first place. I told you to wait for me. You could've been killed."

"Been there. Done that." Sam looked at Dean sternly.
"Don't start that," Dean said, exasperated. "I'm fine. I didn't die. Everything's fine."

"Everything's not fine, Dean. You know that." Dean looked at Sam until he couldn't stand the hurt look anymore, then turned and left the motel room, slamming the door behind him.

Sometimes I'm my own worst enemy,
I guess that's just the cowboy in me.

"I'm sorry," Dean whispered, sitting on the end of Sam's bed. He didn't know if his brother was awake, and he didn't really want to find out. Slowly, he reached out to smooth down Sam's hair before pulling away and standing up.
"I'm so sorry, Sammy." As Dean turned and walked towards the bathroom, Sam took in a shallow shuddering breath and let the tears fall.

The urge to run, the restlessness,
The heart of stone I sometimes get.

"You are not walking away from me again, Dean," Sam shouted in desperation. "How do you expect me to help you if you won't talk to me?"

"I never asked you to help me."

"You didn't have to." Dean looked into Sam's eyes. They were glazed over with unshed tears, but still his little brother wore a tired, understanding smile. Dean sighed softly before nodding.

"I don't… feel right, Sammy," He whispered, dropping his head. "Sometimes I wake up, and I just feel like I'm not really here."

"But you are," Sam argued, stepping closer to Dean. "And you need to stay with me. I can't do this without you."

"That's a lie. You managed without me before."

"Dean, I was barely getting by. You can train me all you like, and I can remember everything dad ever taught us, but I'll never be as good as I am with you." Dean smiled softly.

"Let's get some breakfast."

The face that's in the mirror when I don't like what I see.

Dean stared at his reflection. It wasn't right. Ever since he'd come back, nothing about it was right. He didn't know why, but he looked at himself and saw a complete stranger. Taking in a ragged breath, Dean drew back his fist and shattered the mirror before him. He looked down at his hand, running his thumb over the damaged skin. When he looked back into the broken remains of the mirror, his reflection wasn't alone. Beside him stood his brother, and Dean couldn't help but smile. He knew Sam had at least heard what happened, but he was just standing patiently, waiting for Dean to talk first. It was at that moment Dean realised that, no matter who he saw in his reflection, he'd be fine as long as Sam's was there beside his.

You've set your mind to see this love on through,
I guess that's just the cowboy in you.

Sam sat quietly and watched Dean. The older man was sitting on his bed, his head in his hands. It had taken a long time, but Dean had finally broken down. Sam had seen it coming, but he had no idea how much his brother was actually hurting. Without saying a word, Sam moved to sit next to Dean and pulled him into a hug, letting his big brother cry on his shoulder. He knew this would never get mentioned again, but just the fact that Dean hadn't tried to hide it meant the world to Sam.

The next morning, Sam woke up on the same bed as Dean. For the first time in recent memory, Dean actually looked peaceful and Sam couldn't help but smile. A car horn beeping outside the room caused Sam to get up and Dean to stir. He sat up and looked at his little brother expectantly as Sam walked over to the window.

"It's Bobby," Sam smiled. "I guess we've got work to do." Dean nodded, getting up and throwing on his coat as they both left the room and approached the man that had become like a surrogate father to them.

"Get your asses in gear, boys," Bobby called as Sam and Dean headed for the Impala. "We've got a long way to go."

We ride, never worried 'bout the fall.
I guess that's just the cowboy in us all.

THE END