(heather03nmg, darling, here it is!) Okay, it took a couple of days, but I wanted to find a way for them to celebrate even though they found out someone had to die for Dean to live. And, you know, still be obnoxious brothers about it. Oh, who was it that complained about no more snuggling? Have I got a surprise for you…
A/N: Found some mistakes. Should be corrected now. Had them in the wrong friggin' state, for one! Duh!!
Chapter 11
Dean entered the motel room faced with two somber faces. "We'll have to head out early tomorrow, try to stop the next healing." He informed them.
Sam and Mikey nodded, watching him carefully.
"What?" he demanded, tossing his jacket on a chair.
His brothers exchanged a look. "So, is he, uh…" Mikey's voice trailed off.
"What happened?" Sam asked softly.
Dean scoffed. "You two act like you think I killed him or something." He chuckled. When no one joined him, he glared at them. "You don't, do you?"
Mikey and Sam exchanged a look. "No," Sam began, the hesitation evident in his voice. "But we wondered, if, uh, you know, considering what's happened in the past, that you might have…"
"He's trying to ask if you beat the crap out of your Dad," Mikey finished.
Dean could not resist the smirk that came over his face. "Well, I would have liked to. But no, I didn't." He sat at the table and popped open the bag of peanut M&Ms. "What do you two care, anyway?"
Sam slid into the chair across from him. "Well, assuming this is a reaper, I thought we'd probably need all the help we can get. Even from Dad." The look in Sam's eyes clearly asked if Dad was going to help.
"I guess," Dean shrugged. A beer appeared in front of his face, hanging from Mikey's hand. He took it, popped the top off. He felt Mikey ease that bulk into the chair at the end of the table, between him and Sam.
Mikey slid a second beer to Sam before opening his own. A realization dawned on Dean as he took a pull on his bottle. "Mikey? You're not twenty-one. How the hell did you buy the beer?"
Mikey grinned. He dug his wallet out, handed it over to Dean. Dean took it and looked through several false ids Mikey had. "Dude, where did you get these?"
"I know how to pay attention," Mikey replied, clinking his beer against Dean's. His baby brother was obviously alluding to Dean's ability to create very realistic false identifications.
Dean stared back. Then he felt something he had not felt in a long time. It rose from the depths of his gut, wriggled through his chest, and forced its way into his throat. He chuckled, jaw clenched shut. At the amused look on Mikey's face, another chuckle followed, but he could not keep his jaw locked around that one, or the next. Then he heard laughter, his laughter.
Mikey joined in quickly, taking his wallet back. Dean was unable to contain his laughter, allowing it to consume him until his ribs ached and his lungs burned for air. When he looked through tear-filled eyes across the table, he saw Sam was in much the same condition. He gasped for breath between guffaws, tried desperately to make the laughter stop but he could not. Dean had to wait for the moment of hilarity to cease and allowed him to regain the power of speech.
"It…" he gasped, desperate for air, "It wasn't that funny."
Mikey shook his head. "Nope," he breathed out.
Sam's head was lying on the table, his body still shaking with silent laughter. "Uh-uh." He chuckled again, lifting his head. Sam pointed a finger in Mikey's face. "Bad Mikey!"
Dean slapped the table. "And you didn't catch him!" He laughed. "I did!" That set them off again. In one part of his mind, the part not currently consumed with hysterical laughter, Dean supposed this was a release of all the fear and dread they all experienced since his electrocution. Through the veil of laughter he could see relief in the faces of his brothers. He felt bad knowing someone died so he could live, but it was still an academic fact. The reality of it had not sunk in yet. Dean knew when it did, he was going to have at least one more issue, one more piece of emotional baggage to lug around. But until then, and at least for this evening, he was determined to enjoy the company of his brothers.
"Oh, shit!" Dean scrambled for his cell. The remaining laughter in the room died off as he made his call. "Hey Mom! We're in Salvation, Nebraska. Yeah, if you really want to fly out, go ahead. It'll be good to see you." Dean frowned at the reply he got. "No, I'm not on any prescription feel-good meds, Mom." He rolled his eyes. "Okay, which one do you want?" He slid his cell over to Mikey.
Mikey groaned as he lifted the phone to his ear. "What? Mom! No he's not delusional, he just wants to see you. No, that doesn't make him delusional." Mikey sighed, downing his beer. He pushed it aside before retrieving another from the little fridge. "Mom, Dean does too like you." He groaned as he sat back down. "Well, maybe if you didn't keep asking for either me or Sam every time you're on the phone with him, he'd talk to you more!" Mikey pulled the phone away and stabbed the off button. He slapped it on the table before reaching into his own pocket and pulling out his cell. As his finger moved for the power button, it went off. He scowled, turning it off. With a look, he communicated to Sam to do the same. As Sam pulled out his cell, it went off. With a grin, Sam shut it off.
"So, it's just the Peavy brothers tonight, huh?" Sam asked, holding up his brown bottle.
Dean and Mikey lifted their bottles as well, clinking brown glass. "Peavy brothers!"
In a flutter of packaging, the chips, dip and jerky were opened. Mikey grinned from ear to ear. "I love junk food night," he told them.
Dean and Sam exchanged a look before replying in unison, "We know!"
"Wanna see what's on pay per view?" Sam asked, heading for the television remote.
"No porn, Sammy," Dean warned. "I mean it."
"Come on, Dean," Sam grinned, "you might pick up a few tips."
Dean groaned, stuffing a chip into his mouth to keep from responding with something embarrassing he might not live down. Mikey slipped behind Sam as the middle child searched through the pay per view listings. Just before he could select something about naughty nurses, Mikey grabbed Sam from behind, lifting him off his feet.
"Get it, Dean!" Mikey shouted.
Dean surged forward, grabbing at the remote. He felt his fingers close around it as Mikey swung Sam further away. "Got it!" he yelled, twisting it out of Sam's clutches. Even with his extra weight, Mikey would not be able to hang on to Sam forever. Sam was one slippery s.o.b. when he wanted to be. While Mikey wrestled their lanky brother across the room, Dean rushed to look through the pay per view menu. He could not believe that one of the selections was actually there. He chose it, knowing it would be good for all of them.
"Check it!" he hollered. "Lethal Weapon Three!"
"No shit?" Mikey released Sam, who squirmed the rest of the way out of Mikey's grasp.
Sam grimaced. "Well, whatever."
Dean surveyed their beds as the intro music started up. "This won't work. Come on, Mikey, give me a hand." He pulled the dressing table between the beds out and moved it against the far wall. Dean moved around to the far side of Mikey's single bed and shoved. Mikey joined him. By the time they created one large bed out of the two, Sam stood by holding three fresh beers. Dean dove into the center of the new larger bed.
"Don't forget the food, Mikey," he said, holding out a hand for his beer. The bed sank under Sam's weight on his right. Mikey deposited the food at their feet before crawling on the single bed side and moving close to Dean. Mikey settled on his left, their shoulders lightly touching as Mel Gibson came on the screen.
Sam leaned forward, snagging the plastic bag of jerky. When he leaned back, his shoulder touched Dean on the right. Sam passed over the jerky, chuckling at a bad pun. When he settled against the headboard, their shoulders were still touching. As he watched the movie, Dean felt a silly smile come over his face. The feel of being sandwiched between his brothers like this was comforting, safe and warm.
"Hey," Sam poked him in the ribs. "What's up?"
Dean shook his head, wiping his face blank as he took a quick swig of beer. He felt himself being rocked side to side as his brothers teamed up on him.
"Watch it," he barked, "you're gonna spill my beer!" Dean braced himself with his free hand, attempting to stop the brotherly harassment. Sam and Mikey quit, laughing at him.
"Admit it, Dean," Mikey nudged him, "you're having fun."
"Never heard of it," Dean protested, grabbing another handful of M&Ms. When he settled back, he was relieved to find he had to squeeze between his brothers.
They enjoyed the rest of the movie. Afterwards, unwilling to call it a night, Sam changed the channel to one of those night time talk shows. They laughed at the monologues and made fun of the guests. A number of M&Ms found their way across the room to bounce off the screen.
An annoying noise buzzed around the edges of Dean's consciousness. Persistent buzzing echoed behind closed eyelids. There was a weight on his chest making breathing uncomfortable. For a moment he forgot and thought this might be the beginning of the end, that his heart was finally giving out. Dean pried open his eyes. Mikey's head was planted firmly in the exact center of his chest, one meaty arm wrapped around his abdomen. When he tried to move his head, he discovered Sam's arm wedged behind his neck, wrapped around his shoulders with Sam's long hand gripping his bicep.
Dean managed to wriggle one arm free. He used it to rock Mikey's head back and forth. Mikey finally lifted his boulder of a head and Dean could breathe easily. "Huh?" he blinked bleary eyes at Dean.
"Dude, move," Dean gave him a shove. Mikey pulled away. Now he could sit up, roll his head and sore neck. Yep, that was going to be a crick in his neck all day. He shoved Sam off to the side, giving him a shake.
"Sammy, turn the damn alarm off," he snapped, finally realizing what that annoying buzzing sound was.
He checked his watch. They had about an hour until the next healing. "Come on, guys. We need to get moving!"
tbc…
Next: Back to the Tent!
