A/N : Okay, fuck me, but God, that's a long delay! I am so sorry! My fucking life has been crapping over me this past week and I had a fucking miserable few days. Yay! Go, real life, amirite?
Luckily, my muse came back TODAY! Boom! It's 3am here but here ya go!
Give me some lovely reviews, please! The end line is almost in sight, people! And thank you to all those who have continued supporting me!
The brothers were still sitting on the floor of the seedy motel room, Sam tucked into Dean's arms, when Bobby entered the room. He took in the sight and faltered, wondering if he wanted to interrupt them.
But Dean looked up at that moment, eyes hooded, but not stopping him. Bobby hesitated a moment before stepping in. He locked the door behind him, and went about drawing salt lines and protective sigils, giving the brothers a moment of privacy.
Dean sighed and looked down at his brother, wincing inwardly at the heat pouring off of him. Hopefully, he would be able to get Sam into a bath sooner rather than later.
For now, though ...
"Sammy?", he said softly, running a hand through sweaty curls and resting his palm on Sam's neck. He could feel Sam's heart beating steadily against his own chest but he was loathe to push him away.
"How about we get you back to bed, huh? Bet Bobby wants to tell us his tales of vanquishing demons", Dean asked softly, ducking down to capture Sam's gaze.
Sam shook his head, pressing his forehead back against Dean's chest. "Shower", he murmured, barely loud enough to make it into Dean's ears.
Dean looked down at his brother in surprise. "You sure? You could always -", he trailed off as Sam shook his head.
"No. Shower. Please."
Dean swallowed at the words. Sam looked to be in no shape to take a shower, but it would help with the fever and the two years worth of sweat on his brother. Besides, when had he ever been able to resist whatever Sam asked?
"Okay, Sammy. Let's get you up, then. You feeling okay?", Dean asked, as Sam slowly pushed himself away from Dean's chest and slumped back against the wall. There were tear tracks on his face and barely any colour left, except for the flush of fever on his cheeks. His hair stood up and lay in clumps alternatively. Dean would have laughed at the state of his brother's mop if he had not felt as far away from anything resembling humour right then.
Sam didn't reply but started pushing himself up, not even meeting Dean's eyes.
"Woah, okay, slowly there, wonder boy. There's no fire", he winced even as he said it and hurried to hoist Sam up before he landed back on his butt. He ducked under Sam's shoulder, one arm clutching Sam's over his shoulder and another wrapped around Sam's waist. It was a tight squeeze between the wall and a sasquatch, but he made it work somehow.
Slowly, they stumbled the few steps towards Sam's bed. Dean could feel Sam's trembles under his hands, but to his credit, he made it without faltering even once. Gently, he lowered Sam onto the bed, Sam groaning low in his throat at the stretch of fever abused muscles.
"Wait here, I'm gonna get your stuff, alright?", Dean squeezed Sam's shoulder, waiting for his nod, before intercepting the duffel Bobby lobbed his way, halfway on his route to getting it.
He nodded his thanks, smirking slightly as Bobby dismissed it with a snort and rooted through Sam's stuff, pulling a pair of sweatpants and boxers. He retrieved his own hoodie from his untouched bag and made his way back to Sam.
His little brother who was slowly tilting sideways on the mattress. Dean stopped him with a quick hand, dropping the pile of clothes beside Sam.
"Hey, you sure you up to this?", he questioned again.
"Hmm, 'm 'kay", Sam murmured, blatantly avoiding Dean's eyes and pushed himself off the bed, stumbling even with Dean's support this time. Dean picked up the clothes again, one arm wrapped around Sam's waist and gently but firmly guided Sam across the room, into the bathroom and would have followed him into the shower stall had Sam not nudged at him weakly with a small smirk.
"I'll be a'ight, Dean", he said hoarsely and pulled the shower curtains closed. Dean shook his head, biting his lip with worry. Yeah, he sounded alright indeed. And he was Kelly Freaking Clarkson.
With a sigh, he turned back to drop the clothes on the counter, and added the towel from the rack above for good measure. It wouldn't do them good if Sam slipped and broke something trying to reach up. The kid had a knack for getting into trouble over the most stupidest things.
"Five minutes, Sammy. Not too hot. You take more than that, I'm gonna ignore the trauma and drag your naked ass out, you hear?", Dean called out, as the shower turned on. Sam's answer was his boxers flying out from behind the curtain and Dean grinned even as the pathetic aim meant that they fell a few feet short of Dean.
He headed out, grin dying a quick death as he found Bobby waiting for him. If his face was anything to go by, it was not going to be good news.
Bobby started as soon as he pulled the bathroom door half closed.
"We were right. The girl was the one who helped Meg, took this off after she came at me from behind." Bobby held up his anti-demon charm and grimaced.
Dean rubbed a hand down his face, wondering why the hell people made deals with demons. Then paused, a laugh almost escaping him at the level of hypocrisy that sentence held.
"Why'd she work with Meg? Fame? Money? A mansion?"
Bobby met his eyes grimly before looking away, threading the charm back onto his neck.
"Uh, no. She had a, uh, dying brother. Little brother. Pneumonia, believe it or not. Meg, she found them together, the girl waiting for her brother's last breath. She had a gun. Planned to follow him. Meg promised to heal him if she, and I quote, "promised to pledge her allegiance for life"."
Dean was pretty sure he had stopped breathing. The similarities almost knocked him down on his ass and the wash of overwhelming pain and empathy flooded his eyes with tears.
"So- so she alright? And her brother?", he choked out, blinking back the tears that threatened to escape.
Bobby nodded and Dean released his breath in relief. He didn't quite understand why. Or maybe he did. It just struck too close to home for comfort.
"Yeah. She was planning to make a run after this gig. Thank God she didn't. God knows what Meg would've done to her. I'm surprised that the bitch even healed the brother. I let her go, after promising that she's safe for a while now. Gave her my number and a piece of my mind."
He looked pointedly at Dean, at the last bit, and Dean completely ignored him.
"And the guy who met us at the desk?"
Bobby shook his head sadly.
Dean exhaled forcefully. He was getting pretty tired of the number of deaths he was causing. Tired of fucking things up more by trying to fix them.
As if on cue, the shower shut off and the hunters turned as one towards the door.
"Get some rest, both of ya. I'm getting another room before we head out at dawn. We can't risk staying for long and the call to the cops can't wait too long either." He glanced one last time at the bathroom door that was yet to open and headed out, giving a short wave to Dean.
His greeting to Sam could wait. For now, the boys needed only each other.
Dean shut his eyes and sighed, letting his shoulders slump as the door shut behind Bobby. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing in deeply before going to lock the door, just in case.
He turned back towards the room, walking to the bathroom, hoping Sam was dressed and not blacked out in the tub or something.
"Sammy, you okay in there? Need a hand?", he asked, leaning against the door jamb of the bathroom. Inside he could hear faint sounds of shuffling and the occasional grunts. At least they were signs that Sam was alive and moving.
"I'm okay", came Sam's voice from inside, just as Dean was wondering whether he should just go in.
He paused, straining to hear more. Sam did sound a bit stronger. It seemed that the shower had helped.
Or Sam was just doing his 'I'm fine' act.
The door swung open and Sam stepped out, almost colliding with Dean who practically had been plastered to the door. Dean hurried to grab his surprised brother as he stumbled back and steered him gently towards the bed, plopping him down firmly on the mattress before he could protest.
Sam, it seemed, had forgotten how to dress or dry himself in Dean's absence. Dean rolled his eyes as he spied the wet patches on the hoodie, the sweatpants and the trails of water dripping down Sam's face and neck from his hair.
He stepped back into the bathroom for a moment to grab the towel that lay untouched, clicking the door shut on the way out.
Dean unfolded the towel, gently pulling Sam's forehead to rest on his stomach before setting about briskly towelling the dripping mop of, albeit cleaner, hair dry.
"Can do it m'self", Sam slurred, words a bit shaky under Dean's vigorous drying, but making no move to stop Dean. Dean barely paused in his ministrations even as his face split into a fond grin at Sam's words, mind travelling a mile a minute among the million memories of similar instances spent in previous motel rooms.
"I can do it, myself, Dean!", Sam made a valiant attempt at grabbing the towel that was making quick work of his wet, strawberry scented, hair. Dean shook his head, not letting the towel go, even as he grinned at the pout on Sam's face.
"Nuh-huh, Sammy. The last time I let you do it, you went to sleep with damp hair, caught a cold and coughed me to insomnia for a week and a half. I need my beauty sleep, dude."
"I was tired!"
"Sure, geek. Whatever you say."
"You go to sleep with wet hair too! I've seen you!"
"Well, I didn't catch a cold now, did I?"
"That's 'cause - 'cause you're a jerk."
"Lame, Sammy, real lame. Haven't I taught y-"
"La la la la I can't hear you. I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
"Real mature, bitch. And stop shouting."
Dean pulled off the towel and bit his lip at the sight of Sam's hair sticking up in every direction. He smoothed his hand through the slightly damp hair, nodding to himself in satisfaction. He threw the towel onto the nearby chair, not bothering to spread it to dry. They'd be leaving tomorrow evening anyways.
Sam yawned. And blinked in surprise.
Dean watched him for a moment, not really surprised. God knew how this put the kid to sleep, but it always had.
Sam yawned again, eyes drooping. Dean hid a smile and pushed his brother back onto the mattress.
"Sleepy time, little man. It's school day tomorrow and man, am I gonna spend our last school day here wisely. I've got to tell you, Annalise, the girl I was talking 'bout earlier, is gotta be the luckiest girl in the whole world. There's this totally awesome -"
Dean was pretty sure that Sam was barely hearing any of this, too far into beddy-bye land, but it had become a ritual of theirs. Dean speakin about everything and anything until Sam fell asleep.
So, he was taken aback at Sam's sleep ridden murmur.
"No' lucky, she don' have big bro'er like -"
Sam drifted off, breath deepening.
Dean swallowed, the rest of Annalise's story forgotten as he stared at his little brother's sleeping face. Unexpectedly, he felt tears sting his face and he blinked them away, pulling the blanket over Sam and carded a hand through Sam's freshly toweled, almost fully dry hair.
"Nah. Ain't nobody luckier than me, little brother."
Dean pulled the towel off of Sam, just in time to catch a dying yawn that Sam quickly tried to hide. He smirked, pretending not to notice. He flicked the towel onto the table after he deemed Sam's hair dry enough.
Sam scowled at Dean's smirk.
"'m not sleepy", he muttered. "Doesn't work anymore."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Sammy."
Sam yawned. Dean turned away with a cough, trying to hide the laugh that threatened to break out.
Instead, he palmed Sam's forehead, satisfied at the lessened heat he found there. He rooted through their first aid kit, popping out two more Tylenols and handed them to Sam with a glass of water.
Dean frowned a bit as Sam took them without argument. Then again, he hadn't questioned Dean about what had happened after the whole debacle with Meg and Bobby and Dean and himself. And Sam was usually bursting with the 'how's and the 'when's and the 'why's.
Oh well, he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
He took back the glass from Sam, pleased to see that Sam had drained it. He plopped it onto the bedside table, making a note to refill it later. Turning back, he was hard pressed not to shake his head at the still stubbornly seated little brother who was glaring mulishly at him, even as his blinks grew longer.
"Sam, go to sleep, man. I'll wake you up if you have a nightmare. You gotta recover and we gotta get outta here by dawn."
Sam started to shake his head but Dean stopped him.
"Hey, I'll be right here, okay? I'm real, you know that, right?", at Sam's slightly hesitant nod, he continued. "I'm not going anywhere, Sammy."
Sam looked at him, eyes heavy with more than just sleep, but he leant back, slumping onto the mattress with a sigh.
Dean threw him a smile, hesitated, then hopped onto the same bed, and relaxed against the headboard.
Sam didn't say anything and neither did Dean. They didn't have to.
Dean clicked on the TV, starting to flip through the sparse amount of channels there.
"Dean?", Sam's quiet voice interrupted him and he looked down in surprise. He had thought Sam was well on his way to sleep by now.
Should've known better.
"Yeah?"
"D' you ever - uh, do you regret -", Sam stopped, throat working to swallow. He could see the emotions warring within Sam's steadily avoidant eyes and the big brother in Dean wanted all of them gone. Because none of them appeared good.
But even as he sensed Sam's wariness and hesitancy to actually voice it, he had seen this question coming a mile away.
"Making the deal?", Dean interjected softly. Now it was Sam's turn to look at him in surprise, before his eyes skittered off to avoid Dean's eyes.
And Dean knew he had hit the nail bang on the head.
"I've made some decisions that I regret in my life, Sam. But I've never, never, regretted making that deal to save your life. And I never will."
Sam's eyes had widened with each word, as if he had almost known what was coming and hated it. But the last few words had surprised him in a whole new way. Dean could see it in the way his eyes went from the slow crawl into fear to disbelieving hope.
And whatever it was that had prompted him to keep speaking and not stop when Sam had looked on the verge of a panic attack, Dean was grateful for it.
"Sam, I am sorry. But don't ever expect me to regret it", Dean added quietly and firmly.
A tear broke from Sam's eyes, but he nodded. He sniffed and smiled a watery smile. Dean returned it before turning back to the TV, blinking away the musty motel dust that was making his own eyes water.
"Now shut up and go to sleep. And let me watch Die Hard in peace."
He grinned as he heard the sleepy chuckle from near his elbow, then froze at the next words.
"Ain't nobody luckier than me, big brother."
The soft snores that followed were just on time to feel his heart filling up with love and warmth.
A/N : God, it's half past 3 now. It took me fucking half an hour to edit. Who the fuck is that slow? And I went to bed at like 4:30 am yesterday. So kids, learn from me lol.
Anyways, tell me what you think, please!