By the time Sam came home from his night with Tammie, Dean was completely wasted. Sam took one look inside and sighed, he knew that vacant look on Dean's face. "You probably shouldn't come in right now. Dean's pretty drunk," he told Tammie. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Tammie assured him. She gave him a kiss before leaving, and Sam allowed himself to feel it. To feel the way her lips softened and molded under his. And then she turned and left.
Dean snorted when Sam turned towards him. "What are you gonna do when we have to move on?" he asked carelessly.
Sam shrugged. "I'll deal with that when I have to."
Dean giggled. "I'm so drunk, Sammy. I can't even see straight. I'm gonna have such a hangover tomorrow."
Sam could tell he was drunk. Dean never called him Sammy anymore, except to make fun of him and Tammie. In fact, Dean had stopped using any nicknames at all, even Sasquatch. He sighed, "Why do you do this to yourself?"
Dean just stared off into some distant corner of the universe. Sam sighed again, not expecting an answer, but then Dean said, "I don't know. I just get so scared sometimes, Sammy. I remember – things. Awful, scary things, and I can't deal. You're all I have. I can't do it without you. I can't do anything without you."
With a flash, Sam knew what Dean was talking about. He was thinking of the time when Sam had tried to kill himself. "Why are you thinking about that? It was so long ago. I was young, and stupid, and I was thinking things I shouldn't've. Besides, I've got so much more to live for now. I've got you and Bobby, and now I have Tammie too."
"Can't help it baby boy. I think about it all the time. It was my fault, 'cause I said something careless, 'cause I couldn't keep a promise for two fucking seconds. What would I do if you ever realized how much better you deserve than this shitty life of hunting, forever stuck with you older brother, and left? How would I live?"
Sam sighed and decided to spill his guts, but only because Dean was wasted. "Listen up, 'cause I'm only saying this because you're being weirdly honest and open, and because you're so wasted I doubt you'll remember this tomorrow.
"Do you remember what I told you that day?" Dean's look of concentration was almost comical, but Sam didn't wait for him to remember the words. "I told you that you were it for me. Remember? Nothing has changed for me since then. The only thing this is with me and Tammie, is a distraction. She allows me to tuck away the disgusting feeling I have for you, but they're still there. I can kiss her without being disgusted, or picturing you. But other than that, there's no passion between us, just me being curious about the normalcy of her life. But you're still it, and I would never leave you."
Dean nodded his head, but his eyes were closed and his breathing was deep and even. Sam got up to let him sleep, but Dean said something, his words slow, quiet, and slurred. "'S not disgusting."
"What?"
"Feelings. Not disgusting. I love you too."
Sam was shocked for a moment, but then he laughed quietly, "I know you do, but not like I love you." He leaned over and kissed Dean's forehead. "Night Dean."
Dean shifted and his lips brushed against Sam's own. "Night Sammy." His words ghosted across Sam's lips and Sam had to resist the urge to swallow those words like and elixir.
