A/N: okay this chapter is explicably late and short. Jk, it's short because it was going to be about something else but then I moved that to a later part but I set up for something like this so I had to and its late because I was upset that it was so short that I didn't want to publish it whatever just read shhh.

Title: Flow Sweetly, Hang Heavy

Chapter Title: Letters

Rating: T cause language

Words: we're not going to talk about it shhhh.

Letters

Dean had a lot to do today.

Last night, he got a letter from Sam. Thanks to Sam's good behavior and the graciousness of the Seattle court system, Sam and Dean had been able to exchange many letters since Sam's imprisonment, but had not done such in nearly a few months now. Their letters were fairly short, but frequent, and filled with hope for Sam's new life once he is freed. Dean wanted to write more often, he really did, but he was so frequently encumbered with his daily efforts, he hardly had time to pick up the pen. Between time with Cas, work, more work, and Crowley riding Dean's ass left and right, Dean hardly had time to breathe. Today, he figured, it was about damn time that he picked up the pen and said /something/ to his younger brother, something at least. The only problem now was that, frankly, writing is hard.

He had half of a mind to call up Cas, him being a writer and all, but he knew that he would have to do this one on his own. Sam's letter read:

"Dean,
It's been, shit, I don't even remember, since we last spoke. I hope we're not drifting. I know that if we are, it's my fault, I'm the one who got thrown in here, but you're my brother and I don't want to lose, especially when I'm back on the other side. Write soon, I hope.
-Sam
P.s- you still working for that British dude? I wish you'd stop, he's a dick and the work is bad"

The letter was short, practically just a note, but it felt heavy on Dean's shoulders. He had been taking care of Sam for as long as he could remember, and there was no way in Hell that he was losing him, even after he felt like so much shit for letting Sam get locked up in the first place. He sighed, pressed the pen to the page and paused, taking good time to think before scrawling out,

"Sammy,
Yeah, you're right, it's been awhile. Too long, if you ask me. But Sam, I'd hate to think that we're drifting. I swear I've just been busy as Hell lately, but I'll get to you more often. See you on the other side.
-Dean
P.s- yeah, and he is a dick."

He sighed and scanned the page for what felt like an hour. He was disappointed that he felt it didn't grasp everything that he wanted to say, but it wad the best he could do, so it would have to settle, at least for now. He slid the letter in his coat pocket to drop off the letter at the post office when he got a chance. He felt strangely better knowing he had written, and celebrated with a nap.