"Who's this hippie?"
Sam's heart felt as though it had crashed to a halt within his chest. Barely even aware of it happening, his face dropped and his gaze settled on Rowena, panic beginning to surge through him. The rational part of him screamed that Dean was joking, that the fact he could speak again was enough confirmation that his memory was back. But another part of him altogether was full of alarm, already hopelessly attempting to come up with a new plan to figure this out and save Dean.
Or maybe the spell hadn't been fully reversed. Maybe Dean wasn't going to die, but wasn't going to remember who Sam was, who Mary was, who Cas was, ever again. He'd have to relearn it all, and Sam's mind was screaming, his mouth unable to form any words. He stared at his brother and the witch he'd bet on saving him, emotion coursing through him.
But Dean was wearing such a familiar expression, his eyebrows pulled together ever so slightly, face as serious as could be. It was so very Dean that Sam knew, then, that it was a joke. So subtly, his brother was telling him he was back. Sure enough, only seconds later, Dean's face broke into a grin and he let out a wheeze of laughter, bending over with his own amusement.
"Look at his face," Dean commented, and judging by the look on Rowena's face, it seemed almost as though the two had planned the little joke. "Kind of like that time I ate all your Halloween candy, huh? Classic," he said, his voice dropping on the last word and face gradually relaxing into a small smirk.
It took a lot to not let all of the emotion Sam had felt building out there and then, the tears pricking at his eyes. He wouldn't yield to them, instead morphing his face into a smile, relief flooding through his entire system. "Not funny," he managed to say, fixing Dean with the best bitch face he could muster up. A massive sigh escaped him, his shoulders dropping as if a heavy weight had been removed from them.
Dean's expression softened as he descended the rest of the stairs, a humorous glint still in his eyes. "Come on, it's a little funny," he teased lightly, nudging Sam's shoulder with a loose fist. The words only sparked a memory, an image of Dean lying in a hospital hospital flashing briefly through Sam's mind. His breath hitched and he shook his head again, his throat suddenly clogged by emotion.
The book still wrapped securely in her arms, Rowena excused herself wordlessly, giving the brothers the moment Sam so needed. Sam ran a hand down his face, swallowing hard before looking at Dean again, taking in his usual stance and all of the characteristics that made him Dean.
"It's over," Dean assured him, reaching out to grasp his brother's arm firmly. His face was set, trying to convince Sam that everything was going to be okay, the way he had since he was four. "Okay? I'm fine," he promised.
Sam nodded several times, desperately trying to contain the emotion threatening to overwhelm him, and swallowed yet again. "I know," he said, breath audible as he tried to compose himself fully. "It's just – I thought -" he started, breaking off with another shake of his head, his eyes shutting momentarily.
Nothing more needed to be said. Dean simply tugged on his arm, pulling Sam forwards so that he could wrap his arms fully around him, hugging his younger brother tightly. Without any hesitation, Sam hugged his brother back, his grip just as tight.
"I'm not going anywhere," Dean told him quietly, and Sam nodded against his shoulder.
The 'me too' was silent. Sam felt securer, more stable, with his brother's hold to reassure him. There'd be time to laugh about what had happened later.
For now, Sam only needed to know they definitely still had a 'later' to head towards.