Well, That's Another Mystery Solved
by FraidyCat
Chapter 3: The Reveal
Dean's Big Brother guilt was a little late, maybe, but now it was kicking in big time.
Sam had looked a wreck when he arrived back at the Motel 6 — and he had arrived almost two full hours before Dean expected him. Maybe he had laid it on a little thick the night before.
A shower had perked his brother up a little, and Sam had seemed willing enough to go back to the bar with Dean — this time for a simple burger-and-beer, though — they were back in the room before 10 o'clock. Sam had eaten heartily, his renewed appetite growing healthier every day, but he seemed quiet to Dean — ever since he got back, really. Even now, he was sitting on top of his bed, ignoring an open laptop balanced on his slightly raised knees, staring blankly at the television. Dean knew he wasn't really seeing what was on, because it was an old western they had both seen multiple times — and Sam hadn't complained, or asked him to change the channel, or anything.
"Hey," Dean started, and Sam turned his head to look at him. "Why don't you turn in early. I know you couldn't have slept very long before you headed back here. Crowley breathing too loud again?"
Sam smiled. "Nah. I never heard a sound out of him."
Dean pressed. "Just couldn't sleep?"
Sam immediately directed his gaze back to the television, then sighed a little as he closed the laptop, and rolled to the other side of the bed, so he could set the laptop on the floor. "No. I…uh…found some mold in the kitchen."
The surprise showed in Dean's voice. "Mold? We just left yesterday!"
Sam inched down into the bed, keeping his back toward his brother. "Yeah, it was under the kitchen sink — looks like there's been a leaking water line for awhile. I cleaned that up, fixed the line so it won't happen again, and then I just hit the road."
"Huh," Dean responded. "Surprised I never noticed that. I'm in the kitchen more than you are."
"Hey, Dean," Sam suddenly asked, still curled on his side, his back to his brother, "are you keeping any secrets from me?"
Dean froze, suddenly glad that Sam wasn't looking at him. "Secrets?" he ground out. "Like what? And don't you think we've gone down that road enough times already?"
Sam's shoulders shrugged. "Yeah. Sorry, it was a stupid question." He yawned. "I was just thinking about some stuff…during the drive…and I wanted to tell you that I understand some things a little better now. I mean, sometimes, secrets are necessary — right?"
Dean wanted to say, "Not between us. Not anymore. Not ever again.", but he couldn't. "Maybe," he finally grunted, and picking up the remote, he started channel surfing. "Just stop thinking so much and go to sleep. We've got suits to wear tomorrow."
Sam yawned again. "'Kay," he mumbled. "Goodnight, Dean."
Dean stared at the ceiling. "Goodnight, Sam."
End, Story
