Chapter Twelve: Nothing's Free
Dean was awake the instant he heard Sam cry out in his sleep. Flinging the blankets away, the eldest Winchester reached out and turned on the lamp that sat on dresser in-between the two beds. Sam was writhing in his sheets, the fabric twisted around him.
Dean moved fluidly to his brother's side and put his hands on either side of Sam's face.
"Shhh," Dean murmured, "It's okay, Sammy, shhh. It's just a dream."
Slowly Sam calmed and he opened his eyes. Dean smiled and wiped at the dampness on his brother's cheeks.
Sam's gaze flicked up to Dean quickly before lowering. Dean brushed his sibling's bangs away from his forehead.
Sam let out a shaky breath and sat up, slumping a little bit. Dean let go of Sam's face and squeezed his shoulder with one hand.
"You okay now?"
Sam nodded his head once, wrapping his arms around his middle.
Dean bit his lip, wanting to ask Sam what he'd been dreaming about but he stopped himself. Sam wasn't ready to talk. He didn't want to push his brother into doing something he was uncomfortable with.
"Do you want me to keep the light on?" Dean asked instead.
Again, Sam bobbed his head and Dean stood up, going back to his own bed and laying down.
Dean closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Sam's breathing for a while until he drifted back to sleep.
W
Dean stared at the ceiling for a long time before he sat up.
He glanced to where Sam lay curled up in the bed beside his and smiled sadly. It had been so hard to wake up in a year's worth of motel rooms alone. But Sam was alive, back with him and nothing was going to change that.
Standing, Dean stretched and padded over to his sleeping brother. He carefully pulled Sam's blanket up to his shoulders, tucking him in. Sam's brow furrowed and he drew his limbs in tighter but he did not wake.
Dressing quickly, Dean made his way downstairs, greeting Bobby as he caught sight of the older man sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper.
The eldest Winchester poured himself a cup of coffee and leaned with his back against the counter as he sipped at the steaming drink.
"Do you remember that club house you helped Sam and I make when we were kids?"
The newspaper rustled as Bobby set it down and looked at the young man as though he had just grown a second head.
"Yeah," he said, uncertainty clear in his tone, "Yer Daddy left you boys with me for damn near a month. I had to do something to keep y'all entertained."
"Do you know if its still there?"
Bobby's suspicious expression on increased, "Why the sudden interest in that old thing?"
Dean shrugged, "Just curious."
Bobby didn't look convinced, "Dean."
Bringing his coffee with him, Dean sat down at the table across from his friend.
"I want to take Sam back there."
"Why? What are you thinking?" Bobby asked, the newspaper completely forgotten.
Dean bit his lip, trying to decide if he should tell Bobby his plan or if he should lie.
"Sam's not talking-"
"He's been here two days, son!" Bobby reminded him, "That ain't gonna erase a year of whatever those demons did to him."
"I know that!" Dean almost snapped, "But… you know Sammy, he always has something to say. Can't keep his mouth shut most of the time."
"Look," he sighed, "I'm not expecting any miracles… I just want Sam to feel like he has somewhere private so that if he wants to talk he can. Whenever he wants to. I'm not going to go and interrogate him or anything, Bobby."
"This place ain't good enough?" Bobby asked, sounding hurt and Dean regretting telling him anything.
The younger man could only look at the grizzled hunter apologetically.
"No one knows about the clubhouse," Dean said after a long pause, "Just you, me and Sam. And half the time it was only the two of us out there."
Bobby grunted his acknowledgement.
"Besides," Dean continued, "Some fresh air would do Sam a world of good."
"Yer right," Bobby said, "Yeah, its still there, last I checked anyway. Might need some fixing up by now though."
Dean smiled and raised his coffee cup, saluting the other man, "Thanks Bobby."
SPN
Lilith was biding her time.
She knew it wouldn't be long until she was once again free to roam the Earth.
All she had to do was be patient.
That stupid angel should have killed her.
But he wouldn't; they still believed they could coerce her into becoming the final Seal.
Lilith laughed. That was never going to happen.
Neither Winchester was a part of the plan to end the world anymore.
And speaking of the Winchesters…
Once Lilith was Topside again she'd get Sam back.
She hadn't forgotten about the boy or their deal.
Lilith would make sure Sam never forgot, either.
Smiling to herself, the demon queen began to imagine all the things she would do to the young man once he was back under her control.
Yes, she would be patient and wait and once she was Topside again, she'd have some real fun.
SPN
Dean wondered if he had packed enough as he set the last can of soda into Bobby's battered Coors Light cooler pack
"You feeding an army there son?" Bobby asked as he peeked at the cooler's contents.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, "Sam can't live on oatmeal and soup forever. I made some sandwiches."
Bobby nodded, "Just go easy on him. He probably won't be able to eat a whole lot just yet."
"Okay," Dean said and peered into the living room where Sam was sitting on the couch, watching the television.
Grabbing the pack and sliding its single blue strap over his shoulder, Dean entered the room.
"Hey Sammy," he said, making his brother jump, "Wanna go for a walk?"
Sam tore his gaze away from the TV screen to stare at a spot on the carpet in front of his feet and didn't respond.
Dean stepped further into the room, trying not to frown.
"Sammy," he sat down on the couch beside his sibling, "You okay?"
Sam nodded once without looking up. He wrapped his hands together, wringing them nervously.
Dean sighed and reached out, gripping his brother's fingers in his own, stopping their anxious movement.
"I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, okay? That's not what I want," Dean told his brother earnestly, hoping Sam would believe him.
Sam lifted his head, his green eyes grazing Dean's face for a moment before lowering again.
"So, you wanna come with me? Just for a little bit?"
Sam stood and Dean beamed with relief. He led the way out into the front yard of Singer Salvage. The weather was perfect; sunny but not too hot.
Dean peered over his shoulder to see if Sam is following, and he was, almost scurrying, as though he was afraid of the outside world or something and Dean wanted to stop, forget about his stupid plan and take Sam back inside.
No, Dean shook his head, Sam needs this. Even if it's only to get out of the house, he needs this.
The older brother walked around the side of the house, past the garage and out into the backyard full of sparse, parched grass and a dilapidated picnic table that hasn't been used in years.
Across the yard was the wooded area that the Winchesters used to play and train in when they were younger. Even now, Dean could easily spot the glint of broken beer bottle shards peeking up through the undergrowth.
There used to be a path through the copse of trees but it is long gone; Dean held out a hand to help his brother step over a fallen trunk, Sam keeping his eyes glued to the ground.
The brothers walked for about ten minutes before the old clubhouse came into view. Dean smiled nostalgically at the sight. The small building's walls were made of treated plywood, its roof a sheet of rusted tin, the doorway covered with an old plastic tarp.
It doesn't look too bad, Dean thought as he approached it; nah, not bad at all.
He pushed the tarp aside, checking to make sure no critters had decided to call the clubhouse 'home' before motioning for Sam to join him.
The air inside the small building was stuffy and smelt of mud and decaying leaves but it wasn't wholly unpleasant. The older brother peered down at the dirt floor and momentarily regretted not brining a blanket along.
Oh well, a little dirt never hurt anyone.
Sitting down, Dean leaned against one wall of the clubhouse and sighed, his gaze going to the words and pictures that had been carved into the plywood with pocket knives.
Sam crouched down, not really sitting and stared at the floor.
"Do you remember how much you begged to have a tree-house because you'd seen it in some movie?" Dean asked, "I said no. I didn't want you climbing up that high. I was afraid you'd fall and get hurt."
Sam didn't say anything.
"Then Bobby had the idea for the club house," Dean continued, "You thought that was even cooler than a tree-house."
He smiled at the memory and looked up at his brother but Sam remained focused on the floor.
"You said that the club house was ours, only for Winchesters," Dean reminded his brother, "And Bobby, of course. You even insisted on having a ceremony to make him an honorary Winchester."
Dean clearly recalled the grizzled hunter dressed up in the ceremonial housecoat and old party had Sam had found somewhere, one hand over his heart as he repeated the pledge of loyalty the boys had thought of on the spot.
Dean closed his eyes and sighed, a part of him wondering why they were even out in the woods like this.
He looked up when he heard Sam moving and saw his brother sit down on the ground, legs crossed and eyes raised to look at the marks they had left behind during their childhood in this place just for them.
W
Dean's stomach grumbled and he eagerly unzipped the cooler pack.
Sam watched him silently from the other side of the clubhouse as he took out a couple of plates, napkins, two cans of root beer and two sandwiches.
"Come on, Sam," Dean encouraged, taking his own plate but not eating.
His brother moved forward and picked up his plate, staring intently at the sandwich sitting on it.
"Bobby didn't have any bananas but I thought peanut butter and jelly would be okay too," Dean told him amicably.
He expected Sam to nod or maybe even look up at him quickly before glancing away again but he didn't expect Sam to drop the plate as though he'd burnt his hand.
"Sam!" Dean startled and stood up quickly, concerned that his brother was injured.
Sam backed away from the plate, a look of fear on his face.
"Sammy, what is it?" Dean asked and stepped over the mess towards his sibling, "Are you hurt?"
The younger man shook his head and crouched down, his legs folding beneath him, hands held up in an unconscious defensive position.
"No," Dean murmured, "It's okay, I'm not mad. It's just a stupid plate. C'mon, stand up, man."
He held a hand out to his brother, "Sam? What's wrong?"
The younger man whispered something too quiet for Dean to hear and he leaned closer, "What?"
"I- I'm s-sorry, Muh- Dean," Sam said a little louder, flinching fearfully.
"Don't worry about it, Sammy," Dean said softly, "You wanna go back to the house?"
The younger man nodded and wiped the back of his hand across his nose, standing up unsteadily.
Dean gathered up the unbroken plate, the two soda cans and his uneaten sandwich, packing them haphazardly into the cooler. He kicked the sandwich that had landed on the ground, out the door for whatever animals wanted it; there were mostly squirrels and chipmunks here anyway.
The brothers walked back to the house slowly, Dean trying to find a way to ask Sam what had frightened him so.
Once inside again, Dean set the cooler on the counter in the kitchen once Sam was sitting in one of the old wing back chairs in the living room.
Bobby walked into the kitchen, a slightly confused expression on his face, "Yer back early, there any reason why?"
Quickly, Dean explained Sam's reaction upon being handed his lunch and Bobby's eyebrows knitted together in concern.
"He alright?" the veteran hunter asked.
Dean shrugged, "If he's not he's keeping quiet about it."
Bobby looked like he wanted to say something else but he kept his mouth shut.
"We'll go out again tomorrow, I think," Dean told him determinedly.
Bobby just gave Dean a 'whatever you think is best' look and walked from the kitchen, greeting Sam gently before returning to his desk.
Dean took apart the contents of the cooler, opening his untouched can of soda and taking a large bite of his sandwich. As he chewed he stared at the filling; it was only normal peanut butter and strawberry jelly, and wondered at his brother's strange reaction. He supposed it would be one more question to the already long list he had waiting when Sam felt like talking.
SPN
Sam curled up in Bobby's old, worn chair and closed his eyes. He could hear the veteran hunter turning the pages of the tome he was reading and that seemed to help ground him, remind him that nothing bad was going to happen to him.
Dean had just been trying to help him. Dean had just been trying to care for him, like always.
Sam swallowed, a bitter taste in his mouth.
He jumped when he felt a warm, calloused hand on his arm, "Sammy? Do you want some water?"
Sam looked up at his brother than his gaze slid automatically to the floor. He sat up and nodded his head.
Dean handed him the glass of water he had poured from the kitchen sink and sat down on the edge of the coffee table across from him.
Without raising his head- keeping his eyes cast downwards- Sam greedily drank the water, handing the empty glass back to Dean when he was finished.
His brother fiddled with the cup, turning it between his palms for a moment before setting it aside, "Sam… What… What happened back there?"
Sam didn't want to talk. He didn't want to tell Dean about the sandwich and what memories it dredged up.
"Was it something about Lilith?" Dean asked quietly and Sam flinched at the name, unable to stop himself.
Dean sighed and Sam felt tears well up in his eyes- his brother was upset with him- and he turned away from his older sibling.
"Sam," Dean began and reached out a hand but the younger man shied away, "Look, I don't expect you to tell me… Just nod for me, okay? Was it something Lilith did that freaked you out back there?"
Sam hesitated a moment before nodding. Dean sat back and wiped a hand down his face.
Sam knew his brother want to ask him more questions, ask him exactly what the demon queen had done, but thankfully Dean said nothing else about it.
"How are you feeling? Okay?"
Sam shrugged and fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.
"Are you still hungry? I can make you something else if you are."
Sam nodded just as his stomach let out a low whine. Dean smiled and stood, picking up the empty glass as he did so, "How about tomato soup?"
Sam bobbed his head once again and closed his eyes, sighing. He listened as Bobby stood up from his desk and walked into the kitchen, speaking quietly to Dean as he poured himself a cup of coffee.
Maybe I should tell him, Sam thought and bit his lip.
No, he couldn't let Dean know what had happened to him, what he'd done; his brother would be so disappointed in him if he knew.
Sam was just grateful Dean hadn't gotten mad at him for making the deal in the first place. He was sure Dean was angry with him, just as he had been when Dean had done the same thing. At least Dean hadn't shut him out or yelled at him.
Sam didn't think he'd be able to take it if Dean did that.
SPN
"How you doin' son?" Bobby asked as he emptied the coffee pot, glancing at Dean from the corner of his eye.
Dean shrugged, "I have Sam back so I shouldn't complain."
"But?" Bobby pressed.
The older brother sighed, "I don't want to know, Bobby, but something tells me I should know what Sam went through. I feel like I owe it to him to know what he suffered while I was busy drinking myself into a stupor every night in random motel rooms."
Bobby looked up at the younger man, "Don't beat yourself up over this; it was Sam's choice to do what he did. We all thought he was dead. I'm sure you wouldn't have acted like that if you'd know Sam was alive."
Dean grimaced, "Hell no, I would have been doing my damnedest to save him."
Bobby nodded and sipped at the hot beverage.
"It shouldn't have been a choice Sam had to make," Dean muttered, "I don't know how many times I told him to leave it alone."
Bobby sighed, "Dean-"
"Who would have thought this time those bastards would actually agree to deal?" Dean asked humorlessly.
Bobby didn't comment. No one had been expecting the demons to take Sam seriously.
"Promise me you won't grill the poor boy?" the grizzled hunter asked, "If Sam wants to tell ya, that's fine, if not, don't force 'im."
Dean looked insulted at the very suggestion.
He grabbed a ladle from the drawer and scooped some tomato soup into a bowl.
SPN
Sam reached out tentatively and tapped his brother's shoulder.
"Huh? Sam, you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"
Sam nodded, his cheeks burning with shame. Dean grunted and moved to the far side of the bed, "C'mon then."
Without hesitation, Sam climbed onto the bed beside his brother and laid down, his back to Dean.
In moments, Sam heard his brother begin to snore and he inched closer to his sibling, pressing his back against Dean's and sucking in a shaky breath.
Dean rolled over onto his back and reached an arm out, draping it protectively across Sam's chest.
The younger man closed his eyes and was soon fast asleep, the comforting presence of his brother driving the nightmares away.
W
Sam stared at the dirt floor of the clubhouse, recalling the happy memories he'd had here, with his brother and Bobby.
Dean had suggested they come out to the woods again and Sam didn't argue.
Sam reached down and began drawing aimlessly in the dust with his finger.
"You want some lunch?" Dean asked carefully and Sam lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal gesture.
"No peanut butter and jelly this time, I promise," Dean tried to joke but Sam cringed and closed his eyes for a moment.
Dean cleared his throat awkwardly, "Ham and cheese instead. Is that okay?"
Sam nodded without looking up; if he kept staring at the ground he'd be okay, no one would hurt him. He wasn't allowed to make eye-contact, he was a slave, he-
Sam shook his head and raised a hand to his forehead.
"Sammy? You feeling okay?" Dean asked, his tone worried.
"Y-yeah," Sam muttered quietly and closed his eyes for a moment.
When he opened his eyes again, there was a plate with a sandwich sitting in front of him.
Shakily, Sam ate his lunch, trying to ignore the fact that he knew Dean kept staring at him as though he were going to freak out again.
SPN
Dean glanced up from the television when Bobby entered the room and looked at him pointedly, arms crossed.
"What?" the younger man asked.
"I'm thinking about getting a dog," the older hunter told him, "What do you say?"
"A dog? Really? You ready for that kind of responsibility, old man?"
Bobby didn't look impressed, "I've been thinking about it for a while. I think I should get one."
"Sure," Dean answered; he wasn't a big fan of dogs but, hey, it wasn't his house so Bobby could knock himself out.
"I think it would be good for your brother too," Bobby continued.
Instinctively, Dean's eyes travelled to the ceiling- Sam was sleeping upstairs- before returning to the grizzled hunter's face.
"Sam still hasn't come out of his shell," Bobby continued, "And I read somewhere that dogs are good for that sort of thing."
Dean raised an eyebrow, "Huh, really?"
Bobby nodded. The Winchesters had been at the Salvage Yard for nearly two weeks and although Bobby knew that Sam wasn't going to one day tell them everything that had happened to him the past year, he was still very reserved, still frightened and suffered from nightmares every night. Bobby had read about all kinds of therapy dogs and decided that might be what Sam needed.
At least Sam could confide in the animal if he didn't want to talk to his brother or Bobby.
"What type are you thinking of?" Dean asked, completely forgetting about the television.
"Golden retriever or lab, something like that," Bobby said, "I was gonna head down to the shelter and see what they've got if you wanna come."
Dean shook his head, "I should stay in case Sammy wakes up."
"Okay, just, let this be a surprise, alright?" Bobby asked and Dean nodded.
Sam had always wanted a dog when they were kids. He'd always drag John over to the windows of pet stores to stare longingly at the puppies for sale. John had explained that they couldn't have a dog but that hadn't stopped Sam from wanting one. For about six years straight- before Dean had blown it for him- Sam had written to Santa Clause, asking for a dog. Sam drew dogs in the margins of his notebooks and for a while had had an imaginary dog, named Fleas, his constant companion while they were enrolled in new school after new school until John had put an end to that childishness.
It'll be a belated birthday present, Dean thought and smiled.
He couldn't wait to see the look on Sam's face when he saw the dog Bobby would bring.
SPN
Sam woke slowly, groggily and for a moment he wasn't sure where he was.
Then he heard the sounds of Dean and Bobby speaking animatedly from downstairs and he relaxed.
Sitting up on the edge of the bed, Sam brushed his bangs back from his forehead and grimaced at the feeling of the old scars tugging as he hunched forwards.
Standing, Sam yawned tiredly before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the stairs.
"Shh," Bobby chided, "Quite."
"He'll be so excited," Dean commented, clearly having difficulty holding in his own exuberance.
Sam frowned, what were they talking about? He stepped forward and the top stair creaked, as it was wont to do.
The conversation on the main floor stopped suddenly and then Dean called out, "You awake, Sammy?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, quieter but Dean seemed to hear him.
"C'mon down," his brother called, "Bobby and I have a surprise for you."
Sam backed up, his heartbeat picking up speed.
"Sammy?" Dean called again, "You alright up there?"
Sam swallowed and nodded before remembering that Dean couldn't see him.
"F-fine… I'm fine."
Taking a deep breath, Sam gripped the railing and walked down the stairs.
Bobby and Dean were in the kitchen. He saw them, both with huge grins on their faces.
Sam's brow furrowed in confusion. He stopped in the kitchen doorway and stared at the large, black Labrador Bobby was holding back.
SPN
Dean should have known it was a bad idea. He should have known it was too soon. He should have known it would somehow freak his brother out.
He had just been so excited though, to give Sam something he'd wanted since he had been a little boy.
The look on Sam's face said it all. He was terrified.
At first Dean thought it was the Lab; it was straining against Bobby's hold on its collar, mouth open wide so that its pink tongue lolled out, nails sliding across the linoleum as it tried to get lose and greet Sam. But his brother wasn't even looking at the dog, not really.
"Sam? Sam!" Dean stood up, concernedly when his brother's face paled and he looked to be holding back the urge to be sick. Sam's eyes filled with tears.
"What-" Dean began but Sam turned, stumbling in his haste and fled from the room.
"Sam!" Dean called and followed his brother.
Shit, the eldest Winchester thought, this was not how I imagined this.
"Sammy?" Dean said his sibling's name and caught sight of Sam trying to hide behind Bobby's desk.
"Sam?" he peered over the top of the desk and a lump formed in his throat at the sight of his brother.
The younger man was curled into a ball, hands covering his face while sobs wracked his frame.
"Nuh-No," Sam whimpered, "Pl-please… I c-can't…"
Dean dove around the desk when he heard Sam gag and pulled his brother's hands down, away from his face.
"Sammy, what's wrong? Is it the dog? Shit man, I didn't know."
Sam shook his head, streaming eyes focused on the floor. Dean jumped when the Labrador in question squeezed in beside the brothers and sniffed Sam's face. Dean grabbed the animal's collar and heaved it back, glaring at Bobby who grabbed the dog and yanked it out of the way.
"Sammy? C'mon, talk to me," Dean urged.
The younger man took several watery gulps of air, "It… it's not the d-dog…"
Dean reached out and rubbed his brother's back comfortingly, "What is it then?"
"D-dog f-f-food."
Dean glanced at Bobby, confused. The older hunter simply shrugged. Before Dean could ask, though, Sam continued, "M-made me… they m-made me e-eat dog f-food."
For a moment Dean didn't understand what his brother was saying and then the words sank in.
Those sons of bitches! Dean saw red. Standing, Dean stormed away from his brother; grabbed Bobby's arm- the older hunter released the dog- and dragged him into the kitchen.
"The hell-" Bobby began but Dean bent down and picked up the bowl they had filled with canned dog food for the newest addition to the family.
Bobby took a step back, the smell of the slop unpleasant.
"Those... cocksuckers forced Sam to eat this garbage!" Dean exclaimed and slammed the bowl into the sink in his rage.
Bobby's eyes widened, "Jesus Christ."
Dean's hands clenched into fists and he wanted to beat that Lilith bitch into a pulp.
Bobby's expression was one of sadness. He swiped the baseball cap off his head and ran a hand through his thinning hair.
"Calm down before you go back in the living room, son," Bobby commented and turned to go check on Sam.
Dean remained as though rooted to the spot. He raked his hands through his hair, grinding his teeth as he did so. If the demons had made Sam eat dog food, what else had they done to him?
He was a slave, Dean thought; he was a piece of property.
Dean thought about that awful brand on his brother's chest and the other scars he had seen.
That wasn't Sam anymore; he was a person, Dean's brother, and the eldest Winchester was not going to let anyone forget that.
Gathering himself together, Dean walked back into the living room. Sam was still behind Bobby's desk but he appeared much calmer. His face was pale and his eyes red-rimmed as he scratched behind the black Lab's ears.
"D-Dean, I'm-" Sam began but Dean held up a hand.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Sammy."
Sam nodded and glanced down. His hand left the dog's head and the animal laid its head on his lap, chocolate brown eyes peering into Sam's downturned face.
"S-sometimes they'd l-let me have normal food," Sam muttered quietly.
"Sam," Dean began, "If you don't want to talk about this-"
"Every morning Kincaid would come down with a paper plate of d-dog food and he'd stand there to m-make sure I ate it."
Dean felt tears well up in his eyes. He couldn't imagine how humiliating that would have been.
"I-If I didn't e-eat it," Sam continued, "He'd b-beat me."
"I'm sorry," Dean apologized, feeling like he should say something, anything to try and take away his brother's pain.
"Dog food for Lilith's dog," Sam muttered bitterly and glanced at the Labrador, its head still resting on his lap.
The young man reached out and the dog's pink tongue came lolling out, licking his hand.
Sam sighed and wrapped both arms around the dog's thick neck. The animal turned its eyes on Dean, almost seeming to smile at him.
Slowly, Dean stood and retreated from behind the desk, giving his brother some privacy. He shared a look with Bobby.
"I'll get some kibble," the grizzled hunter said quietly and Dean nodded.
W
Chester quickly decided that it was his job to follow Sam everywhere the young man went.
"Looks like you've got some competition, Dean," Bobby remarked as Dean glanced at Sam and Chester sitting side by side on the couch.
Dean shrugged; he didn't take it personally. If that big old Lab helped Sam, he couldn't knock it.
SPN
Sam shakily crossed the small space separating the bed, stepping over Chester, and tugged at Dean's shoulder.
Without saying a word, his brother slide over and Sam curled up beside him, quietly wiping at his tear-streaked face.
W
Sam lowered his hand beneath the table and a wet tongue and gentle teeth picked the morsel of food from his fingers.
"Don't feed that dog at the table," Bobby scolded without even looking up from the newspaper.
Sam almost smiled. Almost.
He stared down at the tomato sandwich Dean had made him for breakfast and his fingers unconsciously sought out Chester's soft muzzle. The dog groaned in pleasure, his tail thumping against one of the table legs.
"Dean," Sam said without taking his eyes off his plate.
"Yeah, Sammy?" Sam felt his brother's hazel eyes on his bowed head and he bit his lip.
Sam sucked in a shaky breath and told Dean why he had freaked out when his brother had offered him peanut butter and jelly.
Dean's mouth opened in shock.
"S-She knew the whole t-time," Sam said, guiltily. He wondered if Dean thought less of him now.
"I was just so hungry."
SPN
The more Sam spoke, the less Dean wanted to hear. He knew why Sam rarely raised his head and often had difficulty speaking.
No eye-contact.
No talking.
No human food.
The list went on and on.
After hearing all Sam had suffered, Dean couldn't find it in his heart to be angry with his brother for making the deal. He had already been punished enough.
Dean knew Sam wasn't telling him everything though and for that he was grateful. Dean didn't think he'd be able to stay calm if he had to hear of another indignity brought against his brother.
Dean looked up from the television screen to see Sam sitting on one of Bobby's wingback chairs with Chester sprawled out on his lap. The older brother smirked; both were sound asleep.
Carefully taking his cellphone from his pocket, Dean snapped a photo.
He jumped when Bobby walked past him on his way into the kitchen, "Yer terrible, Dean Winchester."
Dean winked and put a finger to his lips, "Don't you dare wake them, Bobby."
Chuckling, the grizzled hunter entered the kitchen and Dean turned his attention back to the TV.
Author's Note:
1. Chapter title comes from an Alice Cooper song of the same name.
2. Thanks to reannablue, BranchSuper, Jkf340, SPN Mum, SUPERNATANGEL67, SamDeanLover28, cold kagome, nupinoop296, L.A.H.H, AlxM, angeleyenc, mandancie, squidgy78, what-the-hells-going-on, and groovinontheinside for reviewing.
3. Thanks to everyone who alerted, followed and favourited.
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