Disclaimer: Supernatural, the Winchesters, and any other characters and/or places which may appear do not belong to me.

Whumptober 2020, Day #23

Prompt(s): Exhaustion; sleep deprivation

Author's Note: Set sometime in season 11, after Cas lets Lucifer in, and after Dean has told Sam about his connection with Amara.

Today's Whumpee: Sam Winchester

"Sam?"

Sam felt like he distantly heard something but he was so deep into research that it sounded foggy. He brushed it aside

"Hey, Sammy!"

That broke through.

Sam looked up, blinking dazedly. "Y-Yeah?" he asked. His voice cracked and he tried to cover it by clearing his throat.

Dean was walking over to him. He had his dead man's robe on and a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Sammy, please tell me you came in here this morning and haven't been up all night." Dean looked worried.

"Wh-what time is it?" Sam asked. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his shoulders.

"It's like 7:30, man."

Sam didn't reply but the way he bit his lip was answer enough to Dean. He sighed and put his mug down on the table next to Sam's research.

"Oh, Sammy." Dean sat down in the chair next to Sam. "Sammy, you gotta get some sleep, okay? Look, I know I put a lot of pressure on you with the Amara thing, and I'm sorry, but I had no intention of making you go through all this research stuff during the middle of the night and —"

"That's not it," Sam interrupted softly.

"What?"

"It's not the Amara stuff," Sam replied. "I mean, yeah, I'm worried about it, but that's not the reason I'm not sleeping."

"Then what is it?" Dean asked. "Because as far as I know, Amara is the only threat we're dealing with that could demand this kind of attention right now."

"No, it's —" Sam stopped and sighed. He turned to look at Dean and then lowered his gaze again when he saw his brother's penetrating stare. "It's not that I won't sleep, Dean. I can't."

Dean's eyes widened slightly in understanding. He hesitated a moment and Sam could see the wheels turning in his brother's head, running over the monsters they'd encountered recently and which of them could cause his little brother so many sleepless nights.

Then Dean closed his eyes and pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Goddamnit, I'm such an idiot," he muttered.

"No, you're not," Sam replied instantly.

"Yeah, actually, I am," Dean said, looking back at Sam. "I should've known being near Lucifer again would mess with you, but instead of taking care of you, I've just been distracted with my own shit and whatever's going on with Cas and stuff."

"Dean, stop." Sam raised his voice a little to cut through his brother's rambling. "You've been dealing with stuff too, okay? And now you know, so can you stop beating yourself up about it?"

Dean hesitated and then smirked. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, Sammy. But you're right, I do know now, so come on."

"What, where are we going?"

Dean stood up and grabbed Sam's elbow. "Come on, Sasquatch."

"Dean, what're you doing?" Sam let Dean lead him to wherever he wanted, too tired to argue.

Eventually, they reached the garage where the Impala was parked. "Get in," Dean said.

"What?" Sam was confused.

"Oh, come on, you always sleep good in Baby, even if it is a little cramped considering your gigantic form."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's like eight a.m., Dean, I'll sleep later." He made to turn around.

"No, you won't," Dean said. He grabbed Sam's elbow again. "Look, you're exhausted, okay? And you're no good to me if you're dead on your feet. Just a few hours, okay?"

Sam sighed. God, he was tired. And Dean was right, there was something about the Impala that always helped him sleep better. He knew what that something was. The feeling of home, family. A place where Dean and Sam had always been safe.

"Hey, just try for me okay?" Dean said.

Sam looked over at his brother. Damn, Dean loved him. He was worried and feeling guilty over not realizing why Sam wasn't sleeping, and… well… Sam couldn't have that.

"Yeah, okay," he said. He let Dean lead him over to the car and open the backseat.

"Now, get in, sleep, and I'll drive us around for a bit. Pick us up some breakfast too, since we're out of pretty much everything."

Sam laughed. "You're not even dressed, Dean."

Dean looked down at himself in sweat pants and a t-shirt and his robe. "So?" he snapped back, although his voice held no real annoyance. "It's my car, I can wear whatever I want."

Sam laughed again as he got in the backseat.

Dean got in the front and grabbed the keys, started the car, and within a few minutes they were on the open road in front of the Bunker.

"Don't let me sleep for long, okay?" Sam asked from the back. "Just three or four hours."

Dean nodded. "You got it."

Dean, of course, didn't keep his promise as Sam didn't wake up until he stirred in the backseat and realized that the Impala wasn't moving anymore. They'd parked and as he looked outside, he realized it was nearly dark. He'd slept all day.

He sat up and looked over the front seat and saw Dean laying across the front seat, also asleep. Of course, sleeping in the Impala wasn't a familiar and safe feeling for only him.

It was that way for Dean as well.

Whenever they were stuck in a motel room with their dad as kids, and their dad was angry or drunk, Sam and Dean would always sneak out of the room and sleep in the car for fear of doing — well — anything that might piss their dad off. Sometimes, they'd sleep how they were doing so now: Dean in the front and Sam in the back. When they were younger, they'd both sleep in the back, but after Sam started getting taller they'd had to split up.

Sam's mind drifted back to a few years ago when him and Dean had been at odds over so many things. He'd never admitted it, barely even to himself, but he'd missed his brother then. He'd also missed the Impala, his brother's cooking, and even Dean's music.

He'd still had them. He'd still driven in the Impala from case to case, but a long time had passed before they'd slept in the car together like they were doing now. Dean had still cooked for him, but it felt less like two brothers eating together than it did two co-workers. He still hated himself for ever saying that him and Dean weren't brothers, weren't family. He'd never believed it.

And even Dean's music. It had still played in the car, but Dean wouldn't sing or hum along to it. He wouldn't tap the steering wheel or let his arm hang out the window. It had just been so stiff, cold.

Sam blinked. He sat back against the leather seat again, happy that he had his brother back again. They'd made up after curing Dean of being a demon, but the stress and constant anxiety of trying to get rid of the Mark made Dean nervous and wary, made him keep his distance from Sam in fear of hurting him.

Sam knew that Dean had done that out of love and fear for his brother, but it didn't mean he had liked it. But now… even with Amara, even knowing that they had another hell of a fight ahead of them, he was okay. He was okay knowing that him and Dean were good. Knowing that Dean would be there to take care of him and drive him around in the Impala when he needed sleep.

Knowing that they were brothers. Sam silently vowed to himself to never fight with his brother like that again. To never be angry with Dean for saving him because honestly? After everything they'd been through together and how dependent they were on one another, Sam had the feeling that if something like that happened to Dean, he'd do whatever he could to bring Dean back too. Even if it meant tricking him into being possessed.

Sam leaned forward again and glanced at Dean sleeping peacefully in the front seat, his slippered feet propped against the driver's seat door and his robe wrapped around him.

Sam smiled and shook his head as he laid back down. Such a dork, Sam thought affectionately. He closed his eyes and fell back to sleep a few minutes later.