A/N: Here's the second chapter! This is where all the emotions and comfort begins. Remember this is just pure brotherly fluff and nothing more. My content will NEVER consist of incest.

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When Dean had stormed off from the argument with his father about how he pretty much abused Sam, Dean wasn't greeted by an upset or crying Sam that he thought he'd have to awkwardly comfort.

All he saw when he entered their room was darkness. Sam was lying in his bed, snuggled up under his blankets, seemingly fast asleep.

"Sam?" Dean whispered in his naturally rapsy whisper, not getting a response.

Although Dean wasn't too convinced, he stopped himself from double checking, knowing that both he and Sam were exhausted and deciding he'd leave it be until at least tomorrow.

So Dean let himself fall asleep, waking up a few times in the middle of the night because he could have sworn he heard some sniffling. But again, Dean was Dean and decided it convince himself that he was probably just imagining things and that if it was anything, Sammy wouldn't want to be caught upset.

Of course Sammy didn't want to be caught upset. That was exactly why he was hiding completely under his blanket for the majority of the night, tears continuously having to be blinked away. Every time he remembered the things his dad had said and done, the young boy kept getting this feeling in his chest, like his heart was being stabbed multiple times. He couldn't believe this was happening, and he couldn't help but think that this was all his fault.

He really didn't realize how loud the hitches in his breath were until Dean started stirring again, yawning tiredly as he forced his eyes open, blinking to clear the grogginess of his vision before turning his head to face the bed that contained a silently crying Sam.

"Sammy?" Dean spoke, breaking the silence that the night held. Sam bit his lip, holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut tightly.

"Sam." He said more firmly this time. When he once again got no reply, he sighed in frustration and stood up, switching the lights on and lying back down on his small bed. "Sam, I know you're awake."

That finally got Sam to sigh and turn to face his older brother who held an expression of both concern and irritability at Sam's secretive and distant behavior.

"What?" He yawned, pretending to have just woken up even though fresh tears were clearly staining his puffy cheeks.

"You okay?" Dean raised an eyebrow, looking at his brother expectantly.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Sam tired his best to sound nonchalant, avoiding eye contact and lying back down on his back.

That made Dean a lot more annoyed. He rolled his eyes at his brother's almighty cover, sitting up and looking directly at Sam.

"Alright, cut the crap."

"What?"

"You know what I mean, Sam. Sit up." Dean ordered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but okay..." The younger boy did as he was told, still not giving the eye-contact Dean wanted.

"So you're telling me that what dad said— what dad did, didn't hurt you?" Dean questioned, another pang of pang if pain slamming internally into Sam's chest at the memory, but he shook his head. "At all?" Dean added.

The two brother's spent a solid minute just looking each other in the eye. The wordless communication that the two Winchester brothers were having right now was what finally got the fourteen-year-old's eyes to start glossing over with tears once again. He blinked them back, but more continued to form. His older brother just looked so disappointed in him, Sam thought. He probably blamed him for getting their dad mad.

"Sammy," Dean sighed, suddenly not knowing what to say.

"I didn't mean to." Sam whimpered, his lip quivering as he sat up straighter trying to stop himself from full out crying. "I just- I was tired a-and it fell and broke and dad got all m-mad and I should have sh-shut up and not have been so rude and s-such- such an abomination a-and-"

Dean was about to jump right into trying to calm his brother down before the waterworks could continue, but then he paused after realizing what Sam had just told him.

"An abomination? Is that what dad said to you? That you're an abomination?"

It killed him to see Sam like this. He looked so small and frail, like a simple blow of wind could knock him down. His left cheek was still red from the unnecessary slap, and his eyes were blood-shot red from all the crying he had been doing secretly.

"Dean, it's-"

"Answer me, Sam." Dean frowned, clenching his fists angrily.

Sam nodded slowly, and that's all it took for Dean to jump onto his feet, ready to storm out of the room and go give their father a piece of his mind.

"Dean, please don't." Sam pleaded, making Dean turn to look at him. Just seeing the look on his baby brother's face was enough to replace most of the anger in his expression with empathy and concern, and he sighed once again, giving into his brother's wishes.

Dean sat down beside his little brother, wrapping a strong arm around his small frame.

"You're not an abomination, kiddo." Dean whispered, squeezing Sam closer to him. "I would know, I've dealt with you my whole life." He added, hoping it would lighten the mood and at least make Sam crack a smile, but it didn't.

Sam didn't seem to believe a single word his older brother was saying.

"It's just a dumb cup, alright? No one should care about that stuff." Dean reasoned, wanting Sam to know that this wasn't his fault at all.

"Dad did." He mumbled, pulling away from Dean slowly. He fisted his eyes harshly in hopes it would stop the tears that refused to come to a halt, to no avail. The only thing that resulted in was Dean pulling away his little brother's stressfully clenched fists that were doing nothing but hurting his poor, sad eyes.

"Yeah, well dad also thinks that getting drunk will solve all his problems. He's wrong... about everything he said and did tonight." He retorted, pulling Sam close to him once again. "You understand me, Sammy? You're not an abomination or anything like that, I promise you."

Sam said nothing, and instead ran his hand down his cheek that still stung a bit.

"You didn't deserve that either, Sammy." Dean noticed Sam's actions and instantly reassured him, feeling frustrated when he was reminded of the mark that their so-called father had left on his face.

"B-but I talked back to him. I was rude."

"That's no excuse to hit your own kid." Dean hissed, the anger toward his father returning, but he dialed it down when he saw that the tears rolling down Sam's cheeks decided to continue falling shamelessly.

"C'mere." He whispered, pulling Sam even closer to him, allowing him to bury his face in his comforting chest, but not expecting Sam to suddenly break down into sobs. "Hey, hey, shhh. It's okay, Sammy, it's okay."

"'M sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for. You're okay, Sammy. Hey, c'mon now, calm down."

Dean did his best to coax his baby brother, whispering sweet-nothing's into his ears and rubbing his back gently, just like he remembered their mom used to do whenever baby Sammy started crying in the middle of the night.

"It's alright, Sammy. Dad's really sorry, he is." Dean whispered into Sam's mop of messy brown hair, kissing his head as the kid continued to cling onto his big brother. "Don't you cry no more."

They stayed that way for a while until Sam's tears came to a halt and all that could be heard were the occasional sniffles and hitches in his breath.

"Did soaking my shirt make you feel better?" Dean tried breaking the ice, smiling softly.

Sam let out a shaky, small but genuine chuckle at his brother's joke before nodding tiredly and lying down next to his big brother, his eyes slowly drooping closed.

"None of this is your fault, alright?"

Sam nodded into his brother's plaid flannel, but deep down he still couldn't help but blame himself for all the anger and hatred in their small, dysfunctional family now.