Warnings: Mentally distressed post-hell!Sam (cause we love him that way the best) and some swearing from Dean
Disclaimer: I borrowed the boys for a little bit, but I promise I will give them back.
Side note: Thank you guys so much for the sweet reviews. Sorry I haven't had time to answer them, but Life has been kind of keeping me away from the PC. So as promised, here is Dean's POV! It's actually a bit longer than Sam's POV, but this starts off a little before that one. Hope you like it.
Music: still 'Katie Grey - Set Free' I just love that song
Summary: Sam is breaking apart. Set after season finale 6x22 The man who knew too much.
Dean's POV
They are just about to turn in for the night when it happens.
Again.
Dean can practically feel the air around them shift as he watches the familiar little twitch go through his brother's body. That's about all the forewarning he get's as from one second to the next all the muscles in his sibling's body are clamped up so tight that not for the first time Dean is afraid one of them might snap. He is already on his feet to catch Sam, but these attacks come so fast, so sudden that he hardly ever makes it in time if he isn't standing right next to his brother. It's not like the visions, a lifetime ago, when Sam's face would scrunch up in pain, when Dean would have at least some indication no matter how little that one of them was about to hit. He is halfway across the room when Sam's knees hit the grey motelroom carpet with a harsh thud that makes Dean cringe. His own landing isn't much smoother as he drops down in front of his sibling to keep him from tumbling over completely. Pain shoots up his legs, but thanks to the adrenaline pulsing through his veins he hardly even notices it.
"Sam! Hey, hey I gotcha. I gotcha." he mumbles while he tries to manhandle Sam's crushing weight into a more comfortable position. His heart is in his throat, racing in time with the words of comfort that flow from his tongue in a never ending stream. He knows his brother can't hear him right now. This part is only about keeping the younger man from injuring himself by the fall or to drag him away from curious bystanders if it happens in a public place. He keeps up his litany of reassurances nonetheless, because he simply can't stand to listen to nothing but Sam's gasping breaths as his lungs try to pull in air through his clamped up throat.
The first time this happened, just after Castiel had vanished from the old warehouse, Dean had completely lost it, pleading and screaming, thinking his brother was going to suffocate in his arms. By now he knows Sam is in no real danger, won't even remember this bit when (not if) he comes to later. So Dean just holds him in an awkward half-hug against his chest and tries to be thankful that at least the seizures stopped after the first couple of weeks. His fingers are shaking as they massages the muscles in Sam's throat in hope to loosen them up a little bit. He is high-strung in anxious anticipation for the next phase of this little dance they are dancing these days. If there is anything he hates more than this right here, it would have to be the part that is to follow. He knows to read the signs by now, knows more or less what to expect, but it still leaves him rattled and cut open like even Alistair's blade never could.
Every single time he hopes that this will be the time they get lucky and scrape by this next bit. He even sends a silent prayer on it's way to whom ever will listen. Not to god, because that guy can go choke on the very margarita he is probably sipping right now on some way-out beach or cloud and sure as hell not to his majesty's so called vacation replacement who caused this whole mess in the first place.
The famous Winchester-luck, though, seems to stay true to it's fucked up priciples, because as Sam's eyes snap open all of a sudden Dean immidiately recognizes the fearful look for what it is. In a flash he let's go of his brother and his halfway across the room, even though all of his instincts are screaming for him to get his ass back over there and do his god-damned job right the fuck now. And he would love to follow that instinct, which was ingraved into him maybe even deeper than the need to breathe. However he learned the hard way that it wouldn't do either of them much good right now. The first time this happened, Dean's desperate attempts to keep Sam calm earned him a cracked nose, scratch-marks along his forearms and Sam a broken knuckle plus a light concussion as he hit his head on the floor trying to get away from Dean. Simply because Sam has no recollection of who Dean is when he first wakes up from these attacks, sometimes he doesn't even recall who he is himself. The reason Dean knows this is the fact that Sam remembers all of this when (not if, never if) he comes to later. The fear, the confusion, the need to get away or scratch, bite and punch his way free until he can crawl into the tiniest hole he can find and seek shelter from everything and anyone around him. So all Dean can do is watch with his heart breaking all over again as Sam scrambles away from him with eyes as big as saucers until his back collides with the wall behind him. He curls up into a, considering his size, impossibly small ball of arms and legs with only his still dripping hair sticking out at weird angles. His eyes are squeezed shut as he rocks back and forth, mumbling unintelligble things that would give the best shrink a serious headache.
To Dean this is the worst part of all. He wants to run over there and comfort Sam, tell him that he is OUT. He would gladly take all the punches his brother can give, but he knows that his presence will only frighten Sam further and so he sits and waits and breaks right along with his sibling. Codependency all the way, he thinks with a cold chuckle and wraps his arms around himself while his eyes, that are glues to his suffering sibling start to burn treacherously.
He hates this. His incapability to keep it together, his selfish weakness and selfpitty while his brother is going through who-knows-what. The fact that he can't help Sam at all, just... everything.
It's also the reason why some twisted, contorted and hated part of himself rejoices when finally the third and last phase begins, because even though it leaves Sam rattled and scared it also gives Dean the chance to finally do something.
It always starts off the same. First Sam's mumblings and movements will seize and drown the room in a heavy and eerie silence that raises the hair on Dean's arms every single time in anticipation of the inevitable storm after the calm. Sam has always been a stickler for rituals and routines and just like clockwork his breath hitches about 48 seconds into the silence (not that he is counting). In a flash the older Winchester is across the room and by his brother's side as sobs start to tear through the younger man. He wants to wrap Sam up in his arms and pretend at least for a little while that he can make everything better just by being there for his sibling, that he can fix this. He holds back, though, reaches out very, very slowly with only one hand so his fingers barely graze the still wet streaks of the young man's hair. A high pitched scream tears from Sam's throat, that Dean would have teased him about till the end of days on any other occasion. Now he only flinches back and bites his lip painfully hard as he watches two large hands burry themselves deeper into his brother's hair.
"I can't..." Sam's voice is so small, Dean almost would have missed it if he wasn't sitting just inches away from the shaking man.
"Sam, can you hear me?"
"Pl'se, lemme...Jus'...I..."
"I'm here, buddy, I'm right here."
He tries to recall the conversation he and Sam had had about his attacks. He had told him about feeling like being ripped apart from the inside, as if every part in him had taken on a life of it's own and was trying to run off into different directions. Dean's mind only managed to picture it as a cruel game of tug war, his brother being the rope, stretched to the breaking point and any added pressure would rip it in two. His imagination is probably a little off from the real thing, but he doesn't need to completely understand what Sam is going through to be able to help him. If something is about to burst from the inside you have to apply pressure to the outside to support it. Easy, he can do that.
But first he has to stop his brother from tearing his hair out if he doesn't want to add premature baldness to Sam's huge pile of worries. Taking a calming breath Dean inches closer again with both of his arms this time. Carefully he settles them, finger by finger in between Sam's own hands to give him time to adjust to the touch. The helpless wail reaching his ears is expected, but nonetheless almost more than he can take.
"Please..."
Dean has to swallow to bite back the emotions inside himself as his brother's broken voice hits him like a punch to the gut, but he has to do this.
"I'm sorry Sammy."
Before he can change his mind he presses his hands underneath Sam's fingers, grabs a hold of them and pushes out to the sides in one fluid motion, like ripping off a band-aid. He doesn't need to look to know that some hair came off as well, but he is already moving again. His hands slide beneath his siblings arms and circle around his back so he can lock together tightly. With a low grunt he lifts. His arms and spine scream as he barely manages to heave Sam off the ground and he swears he can hear a couple of his intervertebral discs question his sanity with loud pops as he drops his own ass on the ground with his little brother settled on top of his legs. Not in a million years will he admit to the high pitched gasp of air that breaks forth from his throat at the impact and he can only hope that Sam is still too out of it to hear it. Damned, this was so much easier before Sam decided that looking down at your big brother should be taken literal. His back is still throbbing when he folds his arms around his sibling as far as he can reach and simply holds on. Sam is shaking like a leaf and Dean regrets not to have gotten a blanket for him, but there is no way in hell that he can repeat his little Hercules stunt without ending up in a wheelchair. So he settles for rubbing his brother's back, hoping that the friction will create at least a little bit of warmth and tugs his sibling's head beneath his chin. If Sam decides to freak out again he will probably lose a tooth, but he is willing to take the risk if there is a chance of this to work. And maybe the Winchester-luck decided to give them a break, because he can feel Sam's shoulders relax a little bit as the young man pushes his face deeper into his brother's chest and grabs two hands full of his shirt. Dean thinks he hears a few strings rip, but if it means he won't be walking around like the one guy from 'Hangover' he'll take it.
His legs are starting to tingle from the lack of blood, but then Sam's breathing evens out and the last remains of the previous tension drop from his limbs. With a helpless sigh Dean decides that he can stay like this a little longer. Okay, who is he kidding, he will stay like this as long as Sam needs him to and probably a little bit longer just to make sure his brother really is alright.
Sometimes he isn't sure if Sam's girly side is rubbing up on him or if he can blame it on getting older, but chick-flick moments are kind of alright sometimes. He could easily live without them, of course. If they help his brother to ground himself to reality though he will gladly drown him in them until his hair starts to turn pink from all the estrogen.
One of Sam's hands gives a little twitch as he unconsciously buries his head even deeper into the older Winchester's shirt. Dean cradles him a little closer and finally allows his own eyelids to drop closed. Who knows, maybe pink hair wouldn't even look all that bad against the Impala's black coating.
The End
Again, thanks so much for the review guys! They really mean a lot to me and help me to reassess my own work. So imaginary chocolate and cookies for all of you!
I am actually thinking about writing a long FF about the guys post 6x22, like...really long as in VERSE size with an actual plot and all that overrated stuff to hide the fact that we are all only fishing for the brother-angst *lol* So if you guys are interested let me know ^^
